goblinswamphell

[goblinswamphell]

Cowards 2

[goblinswamphell]

deep sea impulsivity

[goblinswamphell]

ecstasy

[goblinswamphell]

I have finally finished season 2 of Arcane and can now enjoy your art without fear!!! They should be happy together 🥺

I take it "they" means zaundads because that is what I've been drawing the most BUT, lets be honest, applies to like 98% of the characters in the show.

They should've been a big happy familyyyy

[goblinswamphell]

What if the Mystery Shack was alive. Almost like that movie Monster House, but... Gentler.

It's made from lumber that was grown and chopped down in Gravity Falls, and the entire valley itself has a weirdness to it, which is why weird things are attracted to and tend to stay there. It's not a far stretch to assume that the valley itself, the trees and rocks, are all semi conscious, almost, in an Eldritch sense.

Put under a read more because this got rambly.

What if the Mystery Shack was built, and at first it's angry. Gravity Falls doesn't mind its trees being used for shelter, used to expand the town and protect it, but Stanford wasn't part of the town. He was a stranger.

After he moved in, the cabin itself was hostile to him. It could rearrange his furniture, hide his keys, attract monsters to his door- all of which Ford is oblivious to, for a while. For long enough that the cabin gets to know him, in a sense.

Ford isn't here to hurt the valley's weird things, it realizes in whatever consciousness it has. He's here to learn. To study. To treasure. Slowly, it warms up to him. Things stop going missing. Now monsters show up on the porch, passive and willing to be studied. Now Ford's keys always seem to be right where he thought he put them last.

When Fiddleford joins, the cabin takes a while to warm up to him, too. But it likes the banjo music, and Fiddleford even comments that the house seems calm, almost sleepy, when he plays.

Then of course, things with Bill happens. The cabin isn't strong enough to protect its caretaker, to keep Bill out, but it tries. When Ford wakes with bloody knuckles, a first aid kit is at his bedside table. When he's frantically gulping coffee, the pot always seems full and fresh. When he stumbles inside from the blistering cold, there's a fire roaring in the hearth, a blanket on the couch, to comfort him.

When Bill is possessing Ford's body, the cabin does everything it can to keep him inside, doubling down on Ford's own security to keep Bill away from the portal in its basement.

When Stan arrives, the cabin is as relieved as it can be- there's help, now, Ford will be okay-!

And then Ford is gone, and the cabin is powerless to stop it.

It grieves. It mourns. The shabby cabin sinks in on itself. Its walls peel, its floors crack, melted snow drips thought the roof like tears. It knows the new resident is mourning, too. The new resident doesn't take care of himself, and he doesn't take care of the cabin. When he cries, the groaning logs almost seem to wail with him.

But the new resident is trying. Trying to get Ford back. The portal makes it hard for the cabin to reach down into the basement, but it tries. It watches, anxious and hopeful that its old master will be saved.

As the years go by, the cabin is transformed into the Murder Hut, and later, the Mystery Shack. The night of the grand opening, Stanley pauses and puts his hand on the wall with an anxious sigh. The cabin feels it, and groans as it tries to stand up a little straighter, tries to mend the cracks in its flooring and clear the dust from its own windows. When Stan wanders into the kitchen, he finds a cigar and a drink, waiting for him. It's going to be okay.

Years go by. Stan is aware the cabin has some kind of sentience, but he never outright acknowledges it, other than in quiet moments, when he thanks it, puts a hand on the wall and stands there for a moment.

The cabin likes Soos, because he cleans it and takes care of it. It warms up to Wendy, and she always manages to find a cold can of Pitt Cola or a popsicle when she wants one. The cabin is the one to show her the hatch on the roof.

Then the twins come along, and the cabin can sense how anxious, how excited Stanley is. It cleans itself up as much as it can, proud and anticipating these esteemed guests. And oh, it loves them when they arrive.

The cabin is subtle, at first, but it wants to help. It wants the kids to enjoy staying there. It conjures snacks and sweets aplenty for Mabel, and moved the books around so Dipper always finds something new to read.

Of course Dipper catches on first, especially once he finds the journal. It's a mere footnote, really, that the author left about feeling like the house was alive, but it's enough to get Dipper thinking. He talks to the Shack, he tests things out, and in time, it reveals itself. As muggy summer showers fog the windows, Mabel doodles in the condensation, and finds that something else is drawing with her. Flowers and hearts and smiley faces, she plays tic-tac-toe with no one and is excited to show Dipper.

Of course, Stan denies all of it when they try to tell him, and if the Shack could laugh, it would.

When Gideon takes it over, the cabin has never known such fury. It slams its doors, smashes it's own windows, the floorboards wail and walls crack with rage that Gideon dare hurt its Pines family. It torments, as much as it can, but with the second journal in Gideon's possession, there's only so much it can do that he can't circumnavigate.

At the reopening, the Shack presents its best self. Its so relieved that the family is safe, it conjures boxes of cookie mix and makes their beds a little extra soft. It's never been so relieved to have thumbtacks driven into its rafters as Mabel hangs her posters back up.

And then. And then Stan has the journals again. Then he's buckled down and getting to work, and the cabin stirs, an anticipation, a hope, three decades old beginning to grow anew. It takes care of Stan as he works himself to the limit, helps distract the kids.

And finally, finally, finally- even though it nearly tears the Shack apart, its still alive enough to know when its old master returns, stepping back into its basement. Home at last. Safe.

The whole family, in their own ways, apologize to the Shack as it's repaired after that, but it just sighs. Just groans. It's alright. It's just happy to have Ford back. It tries conjuring endless coffee, first aid kits and blankets again for him, and Ford laughs, pats the wall and promises that he's okay, that he missed the Shack, too.

The unicorn spell makes the Shack stronger. It can't speak, it can't move, but it is proud to do what it does best- protect.

Weirdmageddon comes, and the shack doesn't think twice about opening its doors to the cryptids, creatures, and survivors. It's the Shack but it's made of the valley, and the valley's residents need protection. It locks itself down, keeps them all safe inside, dolling out blankets and aid kits until it has utterly exhausted itself and its magic. As anxious as a house can be, it frets for the missing Pines members, and is overjoyed when Mabel and Dipper return.

When they decide to make the Shacktron, Stanley is the only one to think to ask the house if it's okay with that. The Shack doesn't like it, but if it means saving the valley, then... It groans softly to Stan. It's going to be okay.

The Shack nearly dies in the fight. The unicorn spell is the only thing that holds it and its consciousness together. It's collapsed, ruinous, rubble, when the family returns. It's feeble, but it tries. It straightens up Stan's recliner, clears the debris off the seat. The Shack is exhausted. It's mourning. But the family is safe.

It's all but dormant as they do repairs. It can't conjure or rearrange things, and the family frets over it. The day of the kids birthday, though, the Shack rouses itself. It sits up a little straighter, holds their birthday banner aloft with pride.

It's sad, too, though. It knows the Pines are leaving. Soos and his abuelita are welcome to stay- and the Shack is relieved it won't be empty- but it misses the Pines terribly. It slams its shutters and the floorboards creak in protest as the little twins leave. It throws an even bigger tantrum when the older ones go, and only settles when they all promise to be back next summer.

(in the meantime, the Shack has a lot of work to do, helping the new Mr. Mystery manage everything. Soos never quite catches on, but Abuelita does.)

So the Shack stays. It waits. It hopes, and it protects.

And when the next summer rolls around, when its family comes back, it welcomes them in, welcomed them home, with open doors.

[goblinswamphell]

relationship goals

[goblinswamphell]

Arcane but it's on Snapchat

Took this idea from this and a friend-

[goblinswamphell]

Omg Ambessa x Silco crackship (if you can call it that) is amazing, I live for it🙏

I'm happy to hear that we all agree that this would've calmed Silco down (at least a little bit):

[goblinswamphell]

shivers

[goblinswamphell]

this is just what anxiety is like context

[goblinswamphell]

thoughts on @a-tato-box 's collapsing vectors au and stans relationship with food

[goblinswamphell]

Favorite Brotp - Cassandra and Cullen

[goblinswamphell]

inquisitor inq'isita part 7: the return of Hawke Hawke

(commission info // tip jar!)

[goblinswamphell]

Old redraw with Valo-Kas guys 😎

original picture

[goblinswamphell]

something something the inquisitor's hand becoming a holy symbol that people can't help but want to look at, to touch, to kiss like the rings of a king. nobles grasping at the inquisitor's wrist during the halamshiral ball, nails like claws. soldiers clasping hands with the inquisitor, hoping for just a glimpse of that holy protection to shine upon them before a battle. commoners dropping to their knees and pressing their faces against the inquisitor's palm for mercy, for protection, for vengeance. do you see it.

[goblinswamphell]

inquisitor... ur scaring me....

been playing inquisition again and i looove my gay qunari lady inquisitor i think ill just draw her 1 million times

[goblinswamphell]

chucks this overthought fiddlestan au at u