#bear makes shit up

[bearlytolerant]

Evil God Theory part 1

Hello! I have seen theories going around about who the two baddies in the gameplay video at the end are and I just wanted to take some time and share my thoughts.

I believe our lovely little tentacle armed baddie is the goddess Andruil! Below I’ll lay out some entries and photos as to why I believe it is her.

Under cut because this is a long post!

From the wiki:

Andruil was indeed the hunter. She made great and terrible weapons: a golden bow crafted from the gathering storm and the screams of the south wind and a golden spear of unbearable heat crafted from the radiance of stars.

Have a look at this spear from the concept art. I circled it in red:

From Unreadable Elven Writing codex entry:

She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice.

And from the description of the bow Andruil’s Gift:

She took the gathering storm, trapped its fury in golden limbs, and strung it with the screams of the south wind. Andruil, blood and force, your people pray to you. Grant that your eye may not fall upon us. Spare us the moment we become Your prey.

A picture of said bow but I flipped for the point of this post’s sake:

Excerpt from Elven God Andruil codex entry:

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking the Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss. Yet even a god should not linger there, and each time she entered the void, Andruil suffered longer and longer of periods of madness after returning.

Andruil put on armor made of the void, and all forgot her true face.

This character in the photo definitely seems to be masked and would be a good reason for many to forget her face if it became a permanent fixture.

More from the same codex entry:

She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands.

If that’s Andruil’s dragon/dragon form those lands certainly look plagued and blighted. At first I thought this might be the same ritual spot as the one in gameplay because the tall statues match up but this area seems different with what surrounds it (more buildings here and the ritual area itself seems flatter). Make what you will of that.

Anyway, back to Andruil being our baddie on the left. I think the headpiece resembles a bow, especially the Andruil’s gift bow. But also with her having gone to the void and if we associate void with blight, her being tentacle-like/more skeleton, is very reminiscent of these characters too:

Here’s some poor quality pictures I attempted to grab of other parts of her other than her face to showcase similar features:

But yeah, she looks kinda like a blighted mage/god thing so if it is Andruil, it would explain why she looks like some of our other chatty friends from the deep roads.

One last photo is her mosaic pulled from the Andruil Goddess of the Hunt codex entry on the wiki:

While her bow in this pic matches up better with a different statue, the lines behind her could represent her void-like tentacle appearance. This is my weakest piece of evidence for Andruil but I still think it should be here.

Anyway, this is all I have for now! I’ll be making a post on the other figure too, but separately because I maxed my limit on photos with Andruil. If you made it this far, thank you!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Not beating the allegations.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[shorthaltsjester]

the mighty nein - critical role

this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.

[milamilamilax]

i just know that if any of my colleagues looked at each other at work the way sydney and carmy look at each other, they would be the water cooler gossip and victims of all workplace banter for MONTHS i mean -

are you for real??

at WORK???

HR VIOLATION.

[ruporas]

special operatives (silly interaction beneath read more)

[ID: Digital Art in color of Trigun Maximum, characters included are Wolfwood, Elendira, and Legato in a casual meeting situation. The piece consists of orangey yellow lighting and purple shadows. Wolfwood sits on the left side, facing Elendira who’s on the right. He’s seated on a plain wooden chair with one knee up and he’s holding the strap to his Punisher in his left hand while his right sits against his thigh, He has an irritated expression as he speaks to Elendira. Elendira is sitting in a fancier seat, her right arm rests against Wolfwood’s propped up knee, her left hand holds her suitcase. She’s sitting cross legged with an amused expression. Legato can be seen in the back at the center of the image in his mobile body case, one of his eyes shown to be glaring at Wolfwood. End ID]

[ID: Sketch, uncolored comic. Elendira says to Wolfwood, “I’m not telling you to dedicate yourself to him, but just accept the situation at hand. We could get along better if we were on the same page.” Wolfwood responds, “Don’t peg me me for an optimist. I’m not dumb. But, I’m also not going to just live in resignation. Plus, I don’t have any interest in getting along with ya.” Elendira coos, “Aw, you sure? I have a wonderful shoulder to cry on when the weak people you’re trying to protect eventually dies in the coming months. Though, I guess it’s fine. Someone like you might just die before then anyway...” She snickers in her hand while Wolfwood is speechless and just glares. Legato is faintly drawn in the back, glaring at Wolfwood, muttering “worthless” repetitively. End ID]

[kingzombear]

zombear can we have more infected (or non) ponies from you

Embarrassed to say even tho I promised I'd do a follow-up to my og MLP Infection AU I was like

"What If My Old Cringe Pony Ocs Were A Zombie Survival Team"

Sooo oops this is all I've got rn lol

Prism Leech is an escaped doctor from the Rainbow Factory - the origin point of the outbreak in this AU. (Rainbow Dash isn't affiliated with the Factory in this one, don't worry)

The Spectra Mutagen was originally synthesized in an attempt by the Factory's medical team to maximize harvested Spectra (the raw pigment in ponies) due to a steady decline in Flight School failures over the years.

This mutagen instead, upon infection, overloads the body with Spectra. This induces fever, hallucinations, madness, then finally death and reanimation.

Infected of most stages are easily spotted by the bright over-saturation of their coats, manes, and eyes; along with rainbow blood and bile.

Prism's the team leader and healer, although her bedside manner sucks, as she's thoroughly desensitized to tragedy and gore - a result of her Factory upbringing.

She escaped during a riot by infected prisoner test subjects and plucked her own feathers to ensure she could never return to the sky.

[g3othermal3scapism]

sometimes autism got me lying cus im so desperate to connect my hyper fixations somehow. “sydcarmy is kinda poolverine coded" no its not. u just made that up.

[slime-based]

murder wives

[buzzcutlip]

What You Can't Bury Give Away - NY!Carmen Carmen x Fem!Reader Explicit! 2257 words

A/N This was supposed to be a drabble - haha! I don't know what is it now. Have some sad NY!Carmy after he finds out Michael's died and how he deals with leaving NY (not in a great way but excuse his broken little soul). I know I said I wanted to write Copenhagen!Carmy, so that one's coming too eventually.

When you open the door for Carmen and see him after, like, three weeks, you almost flinch. He’s always looked tired and worn out—while also attractive and weirdly hot—but today he looks particularly bad. Dreadful. His eyes are red, the bags underneath them grayish. It’s obvious that he hasn’t washed his hair in days. He looks as tragic as you feel.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, unsure if he wants to address the reason why he’s here.

Carmy only nods, eyes trained on you, even as he takes his denim trucker jacket off. You hang it on the only free, wonky peg on the wall, feeling him follow your movements all the while. Undoubtedly, it makes you antsy and uncomfortable. You’re not used to guys’ attention. You’re not used to attention from guys you like at all.

When you turn around and find him staring, you sigh. The jumper he’s wearing hangs loosely on his body, the sleeves too long. The navy blue color highlights the paleness of his face, the hollow cheeks.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Carmy opens his mouth to say something smart, probably, but you’re faster: “Ate a proper meal,” you clarify, propping your hands on your hips. You’re trying to act stern, babying him a little without making him seem like a baby. It’s the last time you’re seeing him, probably.

“I dunno,” he admits quietly, impatiently. He thumbs his bottom lip, scratches his head. He’s all sorts of jittery energy turned into a human being. You don’t know him like this.

“I can cook some pasta,” you offer. The idea is absolutely disproportionate to the situation, you think hysterically, as you turn to walk to the kitchen cabinets. “I’m actually a pretty good cook, you know,” you say just to fill in the space, afraid of the silence that might provoke unwise happenings.

As you reach the pack of fusilli, you feel him stand directly behind you. You exhale sharply. Something unwise is already happening. Settling the pasta on the counter, you turn around.

“I—” but before you manage to get out a single word, Carmy’s mouth is on yours, and he’s kissing you. Of course, it doesn’t take much for you to reciprocate. You kiss him back, hands squeezing his biceps, enjoying the thickness and how strong his arms feel.

“Don’t you think this is a bad idea?” you say as Carmen crowds you against the kitchen counter.

“I don’t—think. I don’t want to think,” he stutters out, grabbing at your waist and squeezing.

“But we’re adults, Berzatto,” you stand your ground even though your hands find their way into Carmy’s hair without much thought, “and thinking about our actions is the annoying part of adulthood,” you explain, and when Carmen kisses your jaw, you feel your determination slipping.

You met Carmen a couple of months ago and saw each other like four times. Apparently, he works in a restaurant, and you know that people in hospitality have crazy work schedules and practically no free time. Or social life. Carmen is proof of all that—he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t ask many questions. There are silly tattoos on his hands and scars—some looking fresh and painful. You never confront him about them, never look too long.

He didn’t have to tell you that he’s leaving, you know. If he didn’t, he would just be another boy who disappeared from your life quietly. And you wouldn’t blame him. You’re not a particularly interesting person. Rather dull, some member of your immediate family would say.

“Have you been drinking?” you check as you dodge another kiss. Carmen doesn’t ask questions, but suddenly you do—way too many, you can see the annoyance on his face, as you shrug him off of you, reluctant.

Carmen looks at you, all serious. “I don’t drink.”

“I know. I’m just asking,” you shrug. “Trying to find out what’s gotten into you.”

Because the second time you were with him, on some well-hidden, tourist-less rooftop bar, you drinking bottled beer and him Coke, laying next to each other on loungers—you touched him casually a couple of times while talking shit about your office work and annoying colleagues and canteen coffee that tastes like burnt water. Those fleeting touches that can be easily excused. You were testing the waters. And Carmy didn’t budge. He even laughed when you told him “your hands are pretty large,” let you press your palms together to see the size difference that lit up a flame in your lower belly. Fuck, the lamest trick, and he ate it all up, clueless. He even walked you home after that. For twenty minutes, your stomach was in twists with anticipation. You even considered fucking without a condom because you knew you had none at home, and Carmy didn’t look like the type who would carry one in his wallet. However, when you arrived at your apartment building, Carmen said “goodnight,” waved at you awkwardly, and left, cigarette in hand. That’s how you know the attraction was one-sided.

It makes the current event even more weird.

“You know, I was trying to let you know I liked you,” you say nonchalantly, biting your lip. “I even did that thing with hands.”

“What thing with hands?”

“Where we measure our hands,” duh.

“Oh. I didn’t know it was a thing.”

You stare at him for a moment.

“It was basically an invitation to fuck me, Carmen.”

He stares, then squeezes your waist. “Oh yeah?”

‘Oh,’ you think. This sounds very much like another invitation, doesn’t it? And Carmy takes it, and this time, you let him.

“Oh my god, Carmy,” you gasp when he gets down on his knees for you, and you don’t have any idea that they only call him Carmy at home, that no one in New York ever calls him that. He freezes for a moment, but you don’t catch that, too lost in the idea of having him for yourself, finally.

He pulls down your baby blue sleeping shorts along with your panties, revealing tan lines—the stark contrast of the untouched, milky skin of your crotch and the darker shade of your legs. You worked hard for that stupid tan, taking a week off in March to go to Hawaii, splashing a disgusting amount of money on the vacation, desperate to get away from New York, from your office, to get some warmth. He should congratulate you on your efforts, really, being the first man to see you like this. You hate baking in the direct sun.

But Carm doesn’t say anything, just lowers down, getting hold of your hips, licking along the crease between your thigh and crotch. You’re not smooth down there. You haven’t shaved in a while, and the growing hairs must prickle his tongue. He doesn’t protest though, only grunts and licks more, then kisses your pussy, sucking the lips into his mouth, making loud, obscene noises. He’s desperate but very strategic.

His hands feel huge, cupping your pelvis, fingers digging into the flesh. You grip the countertop behind you to keep your balance as Carmen sticks two fingers into you unceremoniously. You yelp, shucking off your shorts and underwear jerkily all the way down. He helps you one-handed, looks up to check on you. You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from making more embarrassing noises, while Carmen throws the clothes somewhere behind himself and goes back to eating you out while fingerfucking you.

He is frantic but good, concentrating only on you. He stares up right into your eyes, not even blinking, as he sucks your clit. It should not be allowed, you think briefly, for sad, strange boys to make you feel this good, practically against your own volition. It’s always cold in your apartment, more so in the winter, but you’re on fire now.

Carmen’s still dressed in his clothes, and you’re wearing your t-shirt and an old, faded hoodie, white thick socks on your feet. Neither of you cares too much about it as you focus on each other. You dare to touch one of your hands to Carm’s wild curls, and he hums against you, getting ahold of your ankle without stopping what he’s doing with his clever mouth, propping it against his shoulder. He helps you adjust your stance, and you moan loudly as he reaches deeper into you with the changed position.

“Please,” you whisper, head tipped back in pleasure, holding onto the counter one-handed for dear life.

That’s when Carmen chooses to stop, and you look down at him sharply, half-mad with want, watching his wet mouth kiss your ankle just above where your sock ends, then higher up along the inside of your leg, the side of your knee. His eyes are closed and he seems lost in his head, holding your ankle steady on his shoulder and continuing up, up, up. It makes your chest ache for a fleeting moment. Then, out of nowhere, Carmen bares his teeth and sets them into the meat of your inner thigh. You yelp at the sharp pain, jumping up so your head connects with the cabinet behind you with a loud noise.

“Fuck!” you swear, thinking of literally kicking Carmen as your leg is conveniently positioned near his head.

“Careful,” he says instead of ‘sorry’, and bites you again. You inhale to shout something nastier, but then he presses his thumb to your clit and the pain, added to the pleasure, creates a mixture so delicious that your vision blacks out for a moment. Once it clears, you spot Carmy between your legs, his eyes glazed and fixed on what his thumb is doing to you, all frowny in concentration.

“You alright?” he asks as he feels your gaze on him. As you nod and add a breathless ‘yeah’, he bites you again, this time on your other thigh. You jerk every single time he does that, but not from the pain. No, you seek more friction with your pelvis, hoping to make him press his thumb down harder against you. Of course, Carmen, as smart as he is, catches on soon. The next time you lift your hips up, he simply pushes his fingers back into your dripping cunt again, and from then it’s a quick undoing for you. 

You ride Carmy’s fingers, chasing the pressure both inside and on your clit, enjoying the pleasure-pain his mouth is eliciting. Just before you come, you dare to look down, and the sight of bright bruises blooming red like peonies on your skin is what tips you over the edge.  

You barely manage to kiss him back as he stands up between your legs, disoriented and shaky from just orgasming. You’re clumsy with it—teeth clicking and lips landing off-center. Before you can properly catch your breath, Carmen’s turning you around so you face the tiled wall, pushing you against the counter, and this time you mind the cabinets above your head.  

“You did so good f’me,” Carmy says against your ear, sending violent shivers down your spine. His large hand cradles your jaw, and Carmy kisses behind your ear and down the side of your neck, holding your head tilted to have better access to your burning skin. He’s frantic, breathing raggedly, pulling the neck of your jumper to lick at the vertebrae protruding at your sensitive nape. 

Trying to take your arms out of the sleeves to get rid of the jumper is harder than you thought as you get distracted by Carm absolutely ignoring your efforts when he slips one of his rough palms under the clothes, up your tummy to your chest. 

“Can I—can I touch your tits?” he asks hoarsely while still holding your head in position. You consent and stop trying to help him out, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder. 

Carmen fucks you like that, from behind, all desperate and urgent. The noises he makes are almost like quiet sobs, which alarm you slightly, but then you forget everything when you start feeling you might come again. You don’t, but as soon as Carmen feels he might, he slips out and you spin around to face him. 

Without any room for making this cute, you spit in your palm and grip his cock, all dark red and throbbing, while Carmen fists your jumper, holding you close and watching open-mouthed as you jerk him off. When he comes you’re almost sure he’s gonna bite through his bottom lip from how hard he’s biting on it. He lets you stroke him for long moments after that, even though he’s shaking all over, overstimulated. You love watching his tummy muscles jump every time you squeeze at the head, dragging more delicious, wrecked sounds out of him. 

Afterward, Carmen’s awfully flushed in the face, eyes glistening. He asks where the bathroom is and stays there for ten long minutes. Or so. You’re not timing it. You cook the stupid pasta, even though you’re lazy, and feed him. The atmosphere’s charged with something unspoken, and as much as you want to ask what his plans are after he leaves New York, you don’t. 

After the meal, Carm doesn’t linger. He puts his jacket on, pecks your cheek, and leaves without looking back.

Oh, so that was a pity fuck, you realize with much disdain when you’re lying in your bed. Only—you’re not sure who pitied whom there.

He will never know how much you cried that night.

[bearlytolerant]

Evil God Theory part 2

Hello again. I posted about my theory on the tentacled character coming out of the veil in the gameplay trailer in a part one post. Now I’m going to talk about the second figure with the elf ears.

I think our other friend could be Falon’Din. I will be honest, my confidence in the evil god on the right being Falon’Din isn’t as great as my first post but he’s still my first pick and here’s why:

This was a phrase said by an unfamiliar voice in the very short trailer (:33) we got on Dragon Age Day:

“All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign.”

Falon’Din was the god who guided people into Uthenera (a peaceful sleep) but solas says this about him:

I do not believe they sing songs about Falon’Din’s vanity. It is said Falon’Din’s appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn’t bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans. Mythal rallied the gods, once the shadow of Falon’Din’s hunger stretched across her own people. It was almost too late.

Imagine a god who ushers people into eternal sleep being a bloodthirsty conquerer. He would probably think his reign was comforting and peaceful if everyone is dead.

Also it’s understandable if you don’t necessarily believe Solas. This codex is pretty interesting too though:

The People swore their lives to Falon'Din
Who mastered the dark that lies.
Whose shadows hunger
Whose faithful sing
Whose wings of death surround him
Thick as night.

Lethanavir, master-scryer, be our guide, 
Through shapeless worlds and airless skies.

—Song to Falon'Din, found in the Temple of Mythal, author unknown

Reusing this lovely picture from before but highlighting the background in red because it looks like the world could be experiencing an eclipse. A very nice and literal representation of someone associated with darkness and shadows and night being able to cloak the whole world in darkness.

Now onto some other Falon’Din things. The shape on this figure’s head most closely resembles shapes associated with Falon’Din as pictured with the owl constellation Tenebrium. I’ll just put what the wiki says here:

Falon’Din’s sacred animal is an owl. It is either his companion or his manifestation and simultaneously a messenger of Andruil. The constellation Tenebrium, called “shadow” in the common parlance and depicting an owl, may have been associated with him before it became associated with the old god of night, Lusacan. Falon’Din himself is sometimes depicted as a cloaked and hooded pointing figure.

A comparison of the figures headpiece and horn-like appendages(?) behind the shoulders and the constellation association:

Now onto some outfit comparisons.

From Vir Dirthara: Duel of a Hundred Years

The pages of this book—memory?—show a narrow plateau on top of a mountain, Two armored figures—one in gold, one in black—are fighting in the snow. Steel flickers so fast the air hums. Blood dots the ground. They do not stop for breath. The one in black makes no sound as a blade parts his throat.

"Mythal, in her wisdom, interceded in an argument between Elgar'nan and Falon'Din. With clever words, she convinced them to settle their grievance through a battle of their champions. Elgar'nan and Falon'Din agreed, and set their champions against each other rather than declare war among the gods. May those knights long be remembered, and Mythal's wisdom be praised."

The codex does not say which champion was which when fighting but we could assume Elgar’nan’s was dressed in gold (big E and all his sun/light symbolism), while FD’s champion is probably the one dressed in black. While the main cloak/robe seems to be black (refer to the pic after the statue), there’s also a lot of gold so again, not real strong evidence but it could be something. Also the sleeves match up decently with the Falon’Din statue sleeves.

I did notice too that this outfit seems to match up in some ways with Falon’Din’s outfit in the mosaic. Where the clothes in the mosaic are belted together, it seems this character has the same style but I can’t be certain because the lighting doesn’t help.

I also included an old dao picture of a statue because the shoulder piece in that statue plus the way the figure stands near the end of the gameplay trailer reminded me a lot of that particular statue. So I put them side by side so you can have a look for yourself.

All that to say, my theory on the second one isn’t as strong and I don’t feel like I have enough evidence yet to be super confident but this is my best guess.

Also if we think about the two that Mythal has had to humble it was Andruil and Falon’Din. Mythal had to take Andruil’s voidy toys away. Falon’Din got too blood thirsty and was forced to go into timeout when Mythal went to Dad Elgar’nan about him and he lost the duel. Plus there’s some connection with his symbol being an owl and the owl being a messenger for Andruil. So it would be fun to see this little duo be our boss fight baddies.

Again, if you read this far, thank you!

[candycryptids]

Aether, Siren, Empyreum, Ward 4, plot 26 (in Tangy Tangeroo's FC room)

Tangy finally has an FC Room ! It's meant to look like a room in the Rising Stones, converted from Storage to full living space... with some storage still cluttering a corner or two, haha. There's plenty of things to eat and a drizzly view of the Crystal Tower outside! Feel free to stop by and take a look around :> (and at the other FC rooms too! Me and @dustedbooksandreadingnooks have done 6-11 personally ;3)

[antigoneikk]

new rare pair theon x aegon just dropped. no they would not make each other better they would make each other actively worse but i stand firm in my belief that theon should be included in every single piece of asoiaf media until the day i die and that he should be allowed to ride a dragon just once

[spywhitney]

How I sleep knowing I'll never trust anyone that hates Sydney but worships Richie:

[specialagentartemis]

“This Planet Needs a Name” is another fun one where the premise is fantastic and then the execution completely falls on its face.

TPNaN is the story of a cryo-ship launched from a dying Earth to try to re-populate humanity on another planet, out of the fear that Earth is not going to be habitable for much longer. It’s a one-way trip. The people who volunteered for this mission can never go back. It’s unclear if, when they wake up, there even will even be an Earth in any meaningful manner anymore. They’re going out of any reasonable communication range; they’ll never know.

This ship is flying to a distant, selected planet with a compatible atmosphere for humans. Aside from the atmosphere, though, it’s expected to be a bare lifeless rock. The core crew of seven are awoken from cryo-sleep once they arrive, preparing to spend the next decades terraforming the planet to meet human needs, and only then wake up the ten thousand humans in cold sleep below to have a new planet to live on.

But when they arrive at the planet, when the crew wake up… it’s not a lifeless rock at all. It’s a planet with a complex, vibrant, living ecosystem, full of complex, vibrant, living beings.

This is a GREAT setup. What a difficult story there is here about hope and horror, wonder and fear, trauma and duty, the realization that you’ve committed the rest of your life to a plan that’s been blown out of the water, that your responsibility to the people in your hold cannot be your only responsibility anymore, that you have so much to learn about this place and you can’t just change it to your will, it already exists. What is your duty to the people you brought with you for a promise of a new, better life, vs. your responsibility to the forests, the oceans, the animals, the whales and the dragons, that already live here? What do you do now when this is not what you planned for at all?

And TPNaN answers these questions by going :) it’s fine :) the fact that it’s already ready for them is awesome and great :) they’ll just terraform a LITTLE bit of the planet :) just enough for a human city :) they all compromise very quickly on this plan :) every conflict is resolved quickly and easily by being nice to each other :) these people do not owe jack squat to anything that already lives here and they are perfectly in their right to treat them like wild animals, curiosities at best and threats that need to be fought off at worst :) they never ever once wonder about their responsibility to learn about this place before they plop down and start terraforming it :) this is a wonderful gift just for them :) this planet needs a name. nobody ever once even slightly wonders if the inhabitants of this planet have a name for it. They’re not people after all

(when they learn that oops these native inhabitants are conscious, thinking people, this prompts a reckoning from nobody because hey look they’re friendly and happy to help)

[spookythesillyfella]

UUGHH I JUST HAD THE WORST DAY IM SO ANGRY AND FRUSTRATED GRRRR !!!!! goes to draw my best friend @jumjum-crafts 's guy to blow off steam

★ version without text + reference image under cut :

★ song : "STATIC ELECTRICITY HUMAN – Computer Flavor" – kairikibear

[melfinawins]

Look. Uh? Well--

Let's just say SydCarmy may be up by 1000.

In the game of life, you know?

What's that saying?

Let's play ball!