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More from GoldeneyeGryphonSadist
My hands are dancing.
How can it be possible? How can this effortless control and dexterity happen here? I should be trembling, shaking, shuddering head to toe with all the terrible maelstrom of emotions roiling inside. I should be screaming, but my lips are content to be tight and still. I should be weeping, but...
Well, the tears still come. He wouldn’t let those stop, would he.
A eyebrow raises at that thought, seen as if veiled with naught but glass, but other than that my subject is as perfectly, statuesquely still as he has been this past hour. Massive avian skull inclined in profile, dark wings folded, impossible body lean and sleek and poised. Even his tail, fully three times my height in length alone, is still. He doesn’t feel discomfort, or if he does, he has more pressing sensations to savour.
Don’t think about that. Please. Drawing a feeble breath, I look up again and start to add the final highlights. The play of light and dark on that soft plumage (believe me, it’s soft. How long have I spent curled against it since he appeared, since my nightmare began? How long has the pain lasted?) is beautiful, and now it seems I can capture it perfectly, in a way I have always longed for in my works.
My works. Oh Lord, don’t think that. This is your last, your final, your suicide note. No more pictures, in God’s grace or otherwise. All those ideas, those concepts, those beauties in pencil and paintbrush which could have been... they’re his now. Just as I am.
I move onto the beak, and realise I have left it until last. Of all his demonic form, the only thing which terrifies me more than that instrument of desire is the eyes. Sleek, hooked, deadly. Such a thing is fine in miniature, in the avian faces of the friends I’ll never see again, but, here and now, with it large enough to wrap its dripping embrace around every single inch of my body... oh, Lord Theo alive, someone help me!
No. No-one will. I know that because I’ve learnt it through the hours we’ve been together, a life of pain in less than a day. I’ve learned that my pleas are worth nothing to anyone except him, where they are the sweetest of honeys. I’ve learned so much about my life, and how it ended when he picked me out before I even began my drawings. And I’ve learnt about death as well. I know it well now. I know him.
The pencil caresses that curve, easily the best work I’ve done, and at last it is finished. For a desperate moment, I flick around, trying to touch up shadows and edge outlines one last time to gain any extra second. He knows, of course. This will be no tale of the wife of Ulysses, who unpicked the tapestry each night to save her from marriage. The creature knows everything, and will take me just the same, but... is it despicable kindness or ancient cruelty that he lets me have my pathetic last moment without comment?
Slowly, with shaking paws, I trace my name in a corner. A white pencil, tiny next to his dark majesty. A little morsel of purity beneath the talons of a monster ancient beyond time. It is done. Not my most extravagant work, but perhaps among my most captivating. But I have to thank my model for that.
The paper falls from my fingers, and I look up with a moan of despair. He watches me silently, waiting. Just to make me say it.
“I... I’m f-finished.”
The ears flick again, and instantly his mental grip on my motions is released, letting loose all the trembling he’s bound away for this sketch. I slump to the floor in a choked, sobbing heap, unable to articulate even the lowliest of pleas. The world seems dark now, my surroundings overwhelmed by night... and yet the dark will get closer, oh yes. Closer and hotter and wetter and deadlier beyond my imaging.
I can still feel the shake, as a few steps covers the distance between us, but cannot raise my head. Hot muskiness washes over, the exotic scent unlike anything I can imagine; claiming the very air in my lungs. Delicious poison of the mind.
My murderer caresses my shaking fingers – spent now, their last task encapsulated in that little scrap of paper and terror - and with a low, gentle purr of satisfaction, the night closes in forever.
[i]This being a drawing of Damian which he’s very fond of, having kept it for the two centuries since it was drawn. Although Alex is the only creature Damian cares for now, he has had many little ones in his time, one of whom he deigned to allow to draw this picture. The artist, in a parallel universe at least where they did not meet evil in avian form, is the very wonderful
jagal . Damian himself belongs to me, or at least that’s what he fools me into believing.
And a quick few notes while we’re at it for anyone who’s stumbled across this... meet Damian, a Mathraxian gryphon. He stands a total of 13’1” tall and weighs nearly seven and a quarter thousand pounds, making him the largest of my gryphons by quite an amount. As if this wasn’t enough, Damian also happens to have more than seven centuries of anti-life as a murderously gifted Voidtouched, after a dark incident long ago in his past. He’s functionally immortal, incredibly fast, and strong enough to crush solid stone. And that’s nothing. Damian is perhaps the most gifted telepath in the world, able to manipulate emotion and thought – the realm of the Void – with precision and power like nothing ever recorded before. An amoral genius with an utterly insatiable lust for cruelty, the gryphon’s one desire in life is the torture and repeated murder of innocent young arctic fox Alexander Williams – something he devotes every part of his near god-like power to.
Contains: gryphon griffon griffin black male predator sadist psychopath evil feral Damian avian bird
How can it be possible? How can this effortless control and dexterity happen here? I should be trembling, shaking, shuddering head to toe with all the terrible maelstrom of emotions roiling inside. I should be screaming, but my lips are content to be tight and still. I should be weeping, but...
Well, the tears still come. He wouldn’t let those stop, would he.
A eyebrow raises at that thought, seen as if veiled with naught but glass, but other than that my subject is as perfectly, statuesquely still as he has been this past hour. Massive avian skull inclined in profile, dark wings folded, impossible body lean and sleek and poised. Even his tail, fully three times my height in length alone, is still. He doesn’t feel discomfort, or if he does, he has more pressing sensations to savour.
Don’t think about that. Please. Drawing a feeble breath, I look up again and start to add the final highlights. The play of light and dark on that soft plumage (believe me, it’s soft. How long have I spent curled against it since he appeared, since my nightmare began? How long has the pain lasted?) is beautiful, and now it seems I can capture it perfectly, in a way I have always longed for in my works.
My works. Oh Lord, don’t think that. This is your last, your final, your suicide note. No more pictures, in God’s grace or otherwise. All those ideas, those concepts, those beauties in pencil and paintbrush which could have been... they’re his now. Just as I am.
I move onto the beak, and realise I have left it until last. Of all his demonic form, the only thing which terrifies me more than that instrument of desire is the eyes. Sleek, hooked, deadly. Such a thing is fine in miniature, in the avian faces of the friends I’ll never see again, but, here and now, with it large enough to wrap its dripping embrace around every single inch of my body... oh, Lord Theo alive, someone help me!
No. No-one will. I know that because I’ve learnt it through the hours we’ve been together, a life of pain in less than a day. I’ve learned that my pleas are worth nothing to anyone except him, where they are the sweetest of honeys. I’ve learned so much about my life, and how it ended when he picked me out before I even began my drawings. And I’ve learnt about death as well. I know it well now. I know him.
The pencil caresses that curve, easily the best work I’ve done, and at last it is finished. For a desperate moment, I flick around, trying to touch up shadows and edge outlines one last time to gain any extra second. He knows, of course. This will be no tale of the wife of Ulysses, who unpicked the tapestry each night to save her from marriage. The creature knows everything, and will take me just the same, but... is it despicable kindness or ancient cruelty that he lets me have my pathetic last moment without comment?
Slowly, with shaking paws, I trace my name in a corner. A white pencil, tiny next to his dark majesty. A little morsel of purity beneath the talons of a monster ancient beyond time. It is done. Not my most extravagant work, but perhaps among my most captivating. But I have to thank my model for that.
The paper falls from my fingers, and I look up with a moan of despair. He watches me silently, waiting. Just to make me say it.
“I... I’m f-finished.”
The ears flick again, and instantly his mental grip on my motions is released, letting loose all the trembling he’s bound away for this sketch. I slump to the floor in a choked, sobbing heap, unable to articulate even the lowliest of pleas. The world seems dark now, my surroundings overwhelmed by night... and yet the dark will get closer, oh yes. Closer and hotter and wetter and deadlier beyond my imaging.
I can still feel the shake, as a few steps covers the distance between us, but cannot raise my head. Hot muskiness washes over, the exotic scent unlike anything I can imagine; claiming the very air in my lungs. Delicious poison of the mind.
My murderer caresses my shaking fingers – spent now, their last task encapsulated in that little scrap of paper and terror - and with a low, gentle purr of satisfaction, the night closes in forever.
[i]This being a drawing of Damian which he’s very fond of, having kept it for the two centuries since it was drawn. Although Alex is the only creature Damian cares for now, he has had many little ones in his time, one of whom he deigned to allow to draw this picture. The artist, in a parallel universe at least where they did not meet evil in avian form, is the very wonderful
jagal . Damian himself belongs to me, or at least that’s what he fools me into believing.And a quick few notes while we’re at it for anyone who’s stumbled across this... meet Damian, a Mathraxian gryphon. He stands a total of 13’1” tall and weighs nearly seven and a quarter thousand pounds, making him the largest of my gryphons by quite an amount. As if this wasn’t enough, Damian also happens to have more than seven centuries of anti-life as a murderously gifted Voidtouched, after a dark incident long ago in his past. He’s functionally immortal, incredibly fast, and strong enough to crush solid stone. And that’s nothing. Damian is perhaps the most gifted telepath in the world, able to manipulate emotion and thought – the realm of the Void – with precision and power like nothing ever recorded before. An amoral genius with an utterly insatiable lust for cruelty, the gryphon’s one desire in life is the torture and repeated murder of innocent young arctic fox Alexander Williams – something he devotes every part of his near god-like power to.
Contains: gryphon griffon griffin black male predator sadist psychopath evil feral Damian avian bird
Category Artwork (Traditional) / All
Species Gryphon
Size 1000 x 830px
File Size 680.9 kB
Not like THAT. I mean he's overpowered, has no rivals that match him in strength or skills, is unbelievably smart and he's immortal. AND he's psychic. AND he is a sexy bitch.
He's a male Mary Sue but villainous. Nothing ever doesn't go his way, everything works out perfectly for him and he's never held accountable for anything he does. And he problem is you don't treat his sadism or cruelty as actual flaws which hurt his character, they just make him more exotic and Erotic. He's basically perfect. Which means he's a flat character, he has ONE note and its "mwa ha ha, I shall molest and digest you" and he hits that note every time with nothing and nobody able to match him or make him stop.
He's a male Mary Sue but villainous. Nothing ever doesn't go his way, everything works out perfectly for him and he's never held accountable for anything he does. And he problem is you don't treat his sadism or cruelty as actual flaws which hurt his character, they just make him more exotic and Erotic. He's basically perfect. Which means he's a flat character, he has ONE note and its "mwa ha ha, I shall molest and digest you" and he hits that note every time with nothing and nobody able to match him or make him stop.
He's actually more like Superman without a conscience. You could easily draw a parallel between the Kryptonian and the gryphon, but when you factor in their differing personalities, you can easily see how one vastly superior being would view himself as a protector to the masses who took him in, while another vastly superior being's ego and lust would drive him to use his abilities to fulfill his own selfish desires.
Damian is strong. Damian is fast. Damian is intelligent. Damian is overpowered, and so damn perfect that it becomes a character flaw in itself. He knows that there's no equal to him, so he simply finds enjoyment in whatever he pleases. He has no responsibilities, no superiors or equals to answer to, no reason to exist in this world other than to be at the very peak of the food chain -- and he enjoys it. As a result he has an inflated ego, an incredible superiority complex, and his own sick, twisted moral code. He's overconfident in his perfection.
And that's what makes him fascinating.
Sometimes the characters with the biggest flaws are the ones who, upon first glance, don't appear to have any at all -- but then you look past the surface, past the polish, and see what's really at the core of their character. You see what's driving their personality and what's motivating them, and you can put together quite the profile.
Is Damian a Mary Sue? Not quite. He definitely has Mary Sue-ish qualities, but he has something that no Mary Sue can ever claim; a character all his own.
Damian is strong. Damian is fast. Damian is intelligent. Damian is overpowered, and so damn perfect that it becomes a character flaw in itself. He knows that there's no equal to him, so he simply finds enjoyment in whatever he pleases. He has no responsibilities, no superiors or equals to answer to, no reason to exist in this world other than to be at the very peak of the food chain -- and he enjoys it. As a result he has an inflated ego, an incredible superiority complex, and his own sick, twisted moral code. He's overconfident in his perfection.
And that's what makes him fascinating.
Sometimes the characters with the biggest flaws are the ones who, upon first glance, don't appear to have any at all -- but then you look past the surface, past the polish, and see what's really at the core of their character. You see what's driving their personality and what's motivating them, and you can put together quite the profile.
Is Damian a Mary Sue? Not quite. He definitely has Mary Sue-ish qualities, but he has something that no Mary Sue can ever claim; a character all his own.
Yeah, but that's the problem. Superman will actually grapple with the idea of "Am I actually doing what's right" or "Am I doing enough" and sometimes even "Maybe I SHOULD be killing my opponents". He has moral dilemmas, he has supporting characters AND he has weaknesses, not merely physical, but psychological because he's Clark Kent first before he's Superman and has an unbelivably strong moral code. Damien has one supporting character who has no real sway on him, no moral dilemmas he goes through, he doesn't even have an arch-rival or an arch-nemesis, and, as I said, his weaknesses aren't PORTRAYED as weaknesses in the stories. If what he did actually made things difficult or problematic FOR him, then they WOULD be real weaknesses. But considering that never happens, considering he is never outright challenged or questioned about what he does, considering he has nobody who even comes close to his level of power or skills, considering he has no moral dilemmas he ever finds himself in and everything always goes his way AND the fact that he's, as I said, a sexy beast who can pretty much get anybody to do anything he wants for him...he's a Mary Sue. Or rather a "Gary Stu".
And you say to look past and see what drives him. But the more you peel away, the less you find. He's really just a sexual predator who does what he does because he's a sadistic monster. He's a sadist on the outside AND inside with absolutely no real depth to him. There's nothing TO him. A character that can't be challenged or hurt or rivaled in any way isn't a good character. And it would be one thing if he was this character that was a more in-the-background force, or some kind of all-powerful guide to a character with more...well, CHARACTER to him, kind of like a reverse Mister Miyagi taking somebody under his wing (heh, wing joke). Then we might be able to see possibly different sides to him.
Since we don't...he's really, as I said, quite a one-note character. A hedonistic sadist doesn't make for a dynamic character. It's really his VICTIMS who are far more interesting, and they get treated like shit, to put it bluntly. And we barely KNOW anything about them. But compared to Damien, their personalities and motivations are often far more interesting. Take Alex. He's just trying to live his own life, which continues to be ruined by a psychopathic griffin. His desperate struggle to just not get EATEN makes him far more compelling and sympathetic and empathetic than Damien.
And you say to look past and see what drives him. But the more you peel away, the less you find. He's really just a sexual predator who does what he does because he's a sadistic monster. He's a sadist on the outside AND inside with absolutely no real depth to him. There's nothing TO him. A character that can't be challenged or hurt or rivaled in any way isn't a good character. And it would be one thing if he was this character that was a more in-the-background force, or some kind of all-powerful guide to a character with more...well, CHARACTER to him, kind of like a reverse Mister Miyagi taking somebody under his wing (heh, wing joke). Then we might be able to see possibly different sides to him.
Since we don't...he's really, as I said, quite a one-note character. A hedonistic sadist doesn't make for a dynamic character. It's really his VICTIMS who are far more interesting, and they get treated like shit, to put it bluntly. And we barely KNOW anything about them. But compared to Damien, their personalities and motivations are often far more interesting. Take Alex. He's just trying to live his own life, which continues to be ruined by a psychopathic griffin. His desperate struggle to just not get EATEN makes him far more compelling and sympathetic and empathetic than Damien.
Apologies for taking so long. I admit, my first thoughts upon seeing this were "Oh, so it is criticism after all," but you make a valid point.
The heart of the problem is simply that this is a vore story. And hence I'm attempting to balance my liking for putting effort into my writing with my vorish preferences, which do not care about writing conventions or the laws of physics. Simply put, Damian is perfect in just about every way because I have a thing for predators who are perfect in just about every way. That's why, from a writer's point of view, he's had little in the way of flaws so far.
However, I would ask you to bear in mind an important detail: so far, Damian has appeared godlike, perfect, brilliant, invulnerable etc - while he's interacting with Alex. Aside from the fact that the focus of the story is his complete dominance of his fox, it's not very surprising that Damian has displayed few flaws. He outclasses Alex in just about every sense, outweighs him about fifty times over, and knows him perfectly. Alex was not intended as an opponent for Damian, he was intended to be prey for Damian. His power level is utterly outclassed. To use the Superman analogy, Alex is akin to one of the "normal" humans of Superman's life: he's not supposed to rival him at all, it's not what he's for.
I like to imagine, myself, that there has been some character development for Damian as the series progresses. Not a huge amount, and this is deliberate: Damian has lived a life of irresistible lust for destruction for almost eight centuries, and he has become quite set in his ways. But compare some of their dialogue in the first few chapters to what we've had more recently, and I hope you'll agree that Damian is becoming more respectful of his little one. he's starting to see him as less of a plaything and more of... well, a loved one, even if his own desires lead him to murder him.
Also, in my own defence I'd like to point out that Damian has shown chinks in his armour. In Chapter 4, through his own narrative, we see hints that he has memories he does not want to dwell on. Chapter 5, we learned that he can be hurt, and that he has not had a perfect life himself - indeed, that he once shared Alex's position - and more importantly, Alex found this out as well. In what we have so far of Chapter 6, we realise that he was one enormous weakness, that which ironically rendered him so invulnerable before: his love for Alex. And when the rest of it comes out, I can promise you we will learn that this weakness is very exploitable indeed, and that Damian is not necessarily so infallible.
I do think you're judging a little too early here, though. Damian and Alex's story has barely begun. It's similar to many incredibly powerful villains: when they first appear, they seem utterly unbeatable. But as the story progresses, the protagonists learn more about them, find ways to overcome their powers, weak points, ways to bring them down. And then, often thanks to a last minute gamble or sudden eleventh hour superpower, the heroes triumph over their foe!
That's not what will happen in here. But the point is that Damian is not completely perfect. He's so close to it that Alex percieves him as such - a natural reaction to a titanic mythical beast who reads your soul and can overpower you in every way possible - but Alex is learning more about him. And there are others out there.
Speaking of Alex, I am pleased you like him, though. Again, he's been someone who I've found it difficult to meld my ideals of prey (cute, easily scared, weak, cries easy - what can I say, I just like absolute submission.) and the fact that I want him to be a character in his own right.
The heart of the problem is simply that this is a vore story. And hence I'm attempting to balance my liking for putting effort into my writing with my vorish preferences, which do not care about writing conventions or the laws of physics. Simply put, Damian is perfect in just about every way because I have a thing for predators who are perfect in just about every way. That's why, from a writer's point of view, he's had little in the way of flaws so far.
However, I would ask you to bear in mind an important detail: so far, Damian has appeared godlike, perfect, brilliant, invulnerable etc - while he's interacting with Alex. Aside from the fact that the focus of the story is his complete dominance of his fox, it's not very surprising that Damian has displayed few flaws. He outclasses Alex in just about every sense, outweighs him about fifty times over, and knows him perfectly. Alex was not intended as an opponent for Damian, he was intended to be prey for Damian. His power level is utterly outclassed. To use the Superman analogy, Alex is akin to one of the "normal" humans of Superman's life: he's not supposed to rival him at all, it's not what he's for.
I like to imagine, myself, that there has been some character development for Damian as the series progresses. Not a huge amount, and this is deliberate: Damian has lived a life of irresistible lust for destruction for almost eight centuries, and he has become quite set in his ways. But compare some of their dialogue in the first few chapters to what we've had more recently, and I hope you'll agree that Damian is becoming more respectful of his little one. he's starting to see him as less of a plaything and more of... well, a loved one, even if his own desires lead him to murder him.
Also, in my own defence I'd like to point out that Damian has shown chinks in his armour. In Chapter 4, through his own narrative, we see hints that he has memories he does not want to dwell on. Chapter 5, we learned that he can be hurt, and that he has not had a perfect life himself - indeed, that he once shared Alex's position - and more importantly, Alex found this out as well. In what we have so far of Chapter 6, we realise that he was one enormous weakness, that which ironically rendered him so invulnerable before: his love for Alex. And when the rest of it comes out, I can promise you we will learn that this weakness is very exploitable indeed, and that Damian is not necessarily so infallible.
I do think you're judging a little too early here, though. Damian and Alex's story has barely begun. It's similar to many incredibly powerful villains: when they first appear, they seem utterly unbeatable. But as the story progresses, the protagonists learn more about them, find ways to overcome their powers, weak points, ways to bring them down. And then, often thanks to a last minute gamble or sudden eleventh hour superpower, the heroes triumph over their foe!
That's not what will happen in here. But the point is that Damian is not completely perfect. He's so close to it that Alex percieves him as such - a natural reaction to a titanic mythical beast who reads your soul and can overpower you in every way possible - but Alex is learning more about him. And there are others out there.
Speaking of Alex, I am pleased you like him, though. Again, he's been someone who I've found it difficult to meld my ideals of prey (cute, easily scared, weak, cries easy - what can I say, I just like absolute submission.) and the fact that I want him to be a character in his own right.
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