#i'm the highwayman!

[sugared-violets]

in honor of my yearly rewatch:

[asterdeer]

i know the original poem is over 100 years old and loreena mckennitt's rendition is nearly 30 but i don't think i'll ever get over "the highwayman", it gets better every time i listen to it. just the parallelism of the way he and she strain to reach for each other -- he for her hand, she for the trigger -- and the descriptions of their faces -- "his face burned like a brand" when she lets down her hair, "her face was like a light" when she hears him on the highway (and then, rule of three, "his face grew grey to hear" when he finds out that she's dead). it's unbeatable romance for me, this is my "the gift of the magi," this is my orpheus and eurydice

and the way both characters are framed...........it's named for him but she's the closest we get to a hero. we see and feel from her perspective, she's attacked and abused and she keeps her composure, she bloodies her hands to either free herself or free him, she wields the weapon, she is the one who gets a win over the redcoats. she's noble, she's strong, she's faithful, and, you know, she's in love with a highwayman. meanwhile, he does not keep his composure, he goes wild with grief and rage, his emotions overpower him -- and when he dies, it's not heroic, it's an anticlimax, it's undignified and abrupt and almost shameful. but they're both so HUMAN, it's not a lovely innocent woman wearing white waiting, faintingly, for him by the window, and he's not a strong brave hero who sweeps her away to safety. the romance is in the fact that they are not Romantic. the romance IS her bloody hands and her undone hair and his shriek of grief and his death like a dog in the highway. does any of this make sense, am i coming thru. orpheus and eurydice want what they have

[roach45]

dismas….!!!! no!!!!!!!

[mnyehlike]

would it be cheesy of me to say that a tear genuinely came to my eye

[mumbledpie]

How I feel about reymas. 

[esteemed-excellency]

this was one of the best side stories I've ever played I'm devastated now

[jellicle-chants]

Not sure if anyone has ever thought up an Old West/late 19th century Cats non-rep, but boy, do I have a regional production for you:

There's a few other videos from the show on the channel, but otherwise I have no info about who staged this or when. I am incredibly charmed by the costumes, though.

[angrybatart]

Saw the prompt list for "Repostober", but I don't have old stuff saved to my phone. So I'm just redrawing old stuff like I had been planning to for a while.

So here's a redraw of a panel from one of my oldest Darkest Dungeon comics.

The original panel! You'd have to scroll for QUITE A BIT (unless there are shortcuts on pc that mobile doesn't have) to find the full original comic.

[angrybatgaming]

Here you go! The Darkest Dungeon pics I promised!

(It's all on my PS4, so...again...I apologize for the quality...)

Took me 251 weeks to get to where I was in this old file...

And...EVERYBODY has the Crimson Curse! Except this poor Crusader and...like, two or three other heroes.

My last remaining Leper because the others suddenly kept dying. Also this MAY or may NOT be the Leper I based that one comic on. (The one about the Leper confessing to cheating at cards.)

Kept these two alive so far! And Reynauld apparently cured himself of his kleptomania! :D Dismas, however, is still not allowed in the gambling parlor. (Which is fine, as there are plenty of other places I send him for stress relief, and it doesn't affect him negatively.)

Asshole Jester. Makes everyone cry. For no reason.

And here he is! The man! The myth! THE LEGEND! MY BOI!!!!!!!

And now onto why I'm having issues with money...

I'M FILTHY STINKING RICH, AND IT SUCKS. BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING TO SPEND IT ON OUTSIDE OF TREATMENTS, ACTIVITIES, SUPPLIES, AND TRINKETS I ALREADY HAVE.

All because of THIS. I would have made just as much with just a single Antiquarian!

Who is unfortunately sitting in the unemployment office due to the bank. Used to have two, but one of them died of stress. (I swear, I take good care of my heroes. Stupid just likes to happen out of the blue when you least expect it.)

Annnnd that's it. For now. Deciding whether I should continue and finish this campaign, or if I should just start a whole new file. If I continue, I wouldn't mind any advice on what equipment and skills the heroes should have. Or if I should lock or remove certain perks/quirks.

I have at least one (if not multiples) of each hero. The image limit on here won't let me put up screenshots of each and every single one. I'd have to reblog this one to post them all.

[chiropteracupola]

but still I keep your hand, as a precious souvenir...

[coffee-in-veins]

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon), Original Characters, Firemouth Hildegard, Adventurer Zennfir, Crusader (Darkest Dungeon), Highwayman Lucy, Leper (Darkest Dungeon), Jester (Darkest Dungeon), Heir (Darkest Dungeon) Additional Tags: OCxCanon week 2024, Original Character(s), Platonic Relationships, mention of background character deaths, Dismas is a swearjar, Firemouth OC, DD adventurer OC, Reynauld is a crusader - for better and for worse, Highwayman OC, Baldwin is a king Hamlet wishes it had, i love my Heiress being terrifying and can't help myself Summary:

or Eha tries to keep up with prompts for a week, let's see how well will that go. each chapter is a self-containing oneshot and can be read separately, however, they are set in the same world/timeline and estate be warned for a lot of headcanons; platonic (so far); each chapter will have warnings if applicable prompts by theocxcanonweek on tumblr

[wahoo-fish]

Someone in a beloved shared server on discord had a v good idea/kindly allowed me to attempt it as well (*´罒`*)

[kestrelscribe]

Wyvern chasing a griffin chasing an archdemon

Fossils from my years-long Dragon Age hyperfixation.

[bi-naesala]

Dismas and lovers

1. Abomination

There have been rumors about hidden rooms full of treasure in the ruins, and of course the heir can’t pass up on such an opportunity, not when the town renovations are depleting all their money, which means that they’ll send a group to search for it.

Said party will be made of Dismas and Aubrey, the obvious choices, then Paracelsus and Bigby, in case they might end up battling.

At least, Bigby can’t help but to think, he’s lucky to be in a party that doesn’t outright hate his guts, which isn’t always the case – though maybe he’s being unfair to the others, as the relationship between them has been improving.

 As the ragtag group sets out for the ruins, he hopes that everything goes smoothly – he’s been feeling quite weird lately, and he fears that having to turn into the thing will only worsen it.

 What a fool he is.

He should’ve known hoping is useless.

  Everything was going quite well – they’ve found gems and enough supplies to last at least for a couple of weeks – when they get ambushed by some cultists as they’re making their way out of the ruins.

At first, Bigby’s tried his help to help without transforming, which is something he’s gotten pretty good at; the less he transforms, he’s found out, the friendlier the others are to him, and the better their expedition goes.

He swings his chains at the cultists, trying to give Dismas and Aubrey a chance to finish them off by stunning them; it’s a tactic that they’ve used already, but that day something’s off… something…

 It’s the madman.

It’s his words.

He… knows them.

 It’s… It’s what he’s been hearing these past few days!

 It’s what has kept him up at night!

 He can’t--! He won’t--!

 A howl erupts from his mouth, uncontrolled, shaking him – and the others – to his very core.

Despite his willpower, he can’t hold back the beast within.

 As rage takes over his entire being, everything becomes black.

  Until…

 In the midst of all the darkness and fury, he feels something.

Two hands, cupping his snout.

A voice, calling his name…

 “Bigby…”

 He recognizes him.

  By the time he arrived to the Hamlet, Bigby had gotten used to isolation, whether it was self-imposed or not. He expected things to remain pretty much the same, but no, he was surprised: by sheer luck – because that’s the only explanation he can give, still now – he’s found companions willing to be in his presence, and even… friends. Yes, the notion seems absurd, but it’s true: the people here accept him for what he is – more or less, but it’s still more than he could’ve imagined.

 That’s not all, however, because in the Hamlet, Bigby has also found… well, it’s hard to describe.

He’s not really sure what to make of his and Dismas’ relationship: sure, they know each other pretty well by now – intimately, one would say – but they haven’t really talked about it.

Maybe it’s because they don’t want to add something else to the pile of all the things they already have to deal with, maybe it’s because… if they give a name to it, it’ll only hurt more when they lose it.

Being this pessimist isn’t a great idea in the Hamlet: without at least a bit of hope, you don’t get far. Unfortunately, both Bigby and Dismas are quite the pragmatists, who don’t like to lose themselves to useless idealism, so cross that idea.

 They keep each other company at night, they help each other stay sane, they warm each other’s bed.

It’s a good arrangement, something that neither of them ever thought they were going to experience, not with the turn their lives have taken.

It’s unexpected, but also nice, maybe nicer than both of them deserve, but who are they to complain?

   Dismas

 He can hear Dismas speaking to him.

His voice sounds so soft, so sweet.

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard him like this.

 “That’s it… That’s a good boy,” his voice echoes in Bigby’s mind, and finally, he can see him. They’re so close, with Bigby hunched over the thief, towering over him in what must be a frightening spectacle, but Dismas doesn’t look afraid.

He’s holding his snarling snout between his hands, touch softer than it should be, just like his gaze.

 With such a sight in front of him, Bigby’s rage begins to melt, and he manages to gain more and more control over himself, as demonstrated by the way his body gradually changes shape, until he looks more like a man again, than the beast.

 The first thing he does, after coming to his senses, is to anxiously look around, taking in the damage he must’ve caused… except everyone seems more or less fine, definitely shaken, but unharmed.

Well, Dismas sports a cut on his arm that he likely got while approaching him, which makes Bigby feel incredible guilty; hurting his companions is the last thing he wants to do, Dismas least of them all: after all the love he’s given him, this is how he repays him? By hurting him?

He truly is a monster…

 “Dismas,” he starts, then, voice rough and broken, “I’m so…”

Dismas must’ve noticed his distress, because he quickly – but also gently – shushes him.

“Ssssh, relax, Bigby. If you hadn’t transformed, we would all be dead.”

“R-Really?”

Dismas nods, smiling with a warmth that Bigby feels he doesn’t deserve. He knows he’s trying to reassure him, but all he can think about is that he’s lost control once again.

 … Though he’s also so relieved that everybody’s fine, he can’t deny that.

 “You arm…” he mutters, then, a trembling hand slowly creeping to Dismas’ shoulder. “… Did I do that?”

The coat’s sleeve is ripped, and blood has flown plenty from the wound. Even just looking at it makes Bigby sick to his stomach.

“It’s worse than it looks. Nothing the good doctor can’t fix, right?” Dismas reassures him, turning then to Paracelsus, who simply nods, motioning for him to come closer so she can dress the wound with some bandages.

It isn’t much, but it’s the best they can afford in these circumstances. Once they get back to the Hamlet, he’ll get some proper care.

Speaking of which…

Dismas signals for them to move on.

“C’mon, the faster we leave this place, the better.”

  They fall in sequence, making their way out of the ruins in complete silence, not wanting to get caught in an ambush again.

Bigby wants to speak to Dismas so bad, but he knows that now it’s not the right time to do so. He’ll have to wait until they’re safe.

In the meantime, he keeps telling himself that what matters is that they’re all safe, and that he didn’t gravely injure anybody that wasn’t their enemy, but that doesn’t make him feel less guilty.

 At least they’re almost at the Hamlet… Huh?

 He almost screams – he’s way too tense now – when somebody grabs his hand, relaxing only when he notices that it’s Dismas.

“You scared me…” Bigby mutters, averting his gaze, though he can’t stop a small smile from creeping up on his face.

Dismas chuckles, gently squeezing Bigby’s hand. “Sorry, sorry…”

If he was in pain, he would be showing it, but with the way he acts, he seems fine, so maybe when he said that it wasn’t that bad, he wasn’t lying. Even with all the guilt he carries, he can’t argue with this logic.

Bigby gives him a squeeze back, finally able to glance at him again.

 There’s a lot he wants to say, but what he settles on is:

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I have you to thank for that, you know that, right?” Dismas replies. “You did well.”

Bigby sighs. It’s a hard reality to accept, both of them know it: you don’t arrive to the Hamlet if you’re not familiar with failure, vice, guilty, or all three of them. This is not to say that things aren’t slowly getting better, and although Bigby still hasn’t recovered entirely from this episode – both physically and mentally – he still smirks.

“Buy me something at the tavern and we’ll be square,” he says. Usually, that’s Dismas’ line, but today he felt like stealing it, which comes as a surprise, but Dismas laughs nonetheless.

“You’re learning!” he exclaims. “Alright, I’ll get you something nice as thanks.”

  They will mess up again, Bigby will mess up again. It’s part of humans’ nature, after all, something they can’t run from, something they can’t change.

In that moment, however, he realizes something: as banal as it may sound, it’s not so bad, making mistakes, not when there’s somebody that will catch him if he falls – and don’t think not even for a moment that he wouldn’t do the same if their positions were switched.

 Dismas’ gaze is set to the road in front of them, but Bigby can still feel the warmth he radiates towards him.

During moments like this, he can’t help but to feel extremely lucky.

[elizabethrobertajones]

okay I can't resist posting the 3 aiming glams I spent time fine tuning all afternoon :')

I really like how after a point you can make glams which you really like because you just Have stuff. Like, choice of all the job gear from every level - and dyable, rare dyes, the better sense of how to play dress up with your dress up doll just from experience of playing so many glams you've liked or discarded over time...

It was fun putting ARR bits with late game or raid gear and it all now sort of works in a way that pulls it out of its old context and makes it fresh again; all 3 of these glams contain bits of ARR and Heavensward gear which were core parts of original Frog Looks from back when I first started and they were the best and only interesting things I could get my grubby little hands on :D

[made-nondescript]

sometimes i go a little bit insane thinking about the towns of early western america and how many just aren’t there anymore people’s whole lives washed away by sand and sun with nothing but dry, old wood and stone foundations and mines, now empty, to prove they’d ever been there.

sometimes i go a bit nuts thinking about all the cemeteries no one has visited in decades because they are miles from any development, now. wooden headstones reduced to kindling and the stone ones worn down so far that you’re lucky to make out a single letter. fences that have long since stopped serving their purpose.

places built to be temporary but even still were at one point were full of people’s friends and family and hope. i don’t know. a little crazy about it rn