#what shall we do now

[evagaetinosgirl]

don't let lindsey horan see this one 😱😱😱

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

I'm looking forward to Kingdom's trade fair, I hope it actually goes somewhat to plan and it's a fun break from the usual violenc-

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[mh2o29]

tfw you have to call your girlfriend's house to talk to her girlfriend (who is also your boyfriends girlfriend) so you can get your boyfriend released from jail...

(click for better quality PLEASE I beg you)

under the tab are other versions of the drawing so click if you wanna see him with no shirt on .....wait what who said that.....

yall i don't even know how to explain this one i was possessed and controlled by the urge to draw stu macher all pretty and posed like this,,,, so i like when men are pretty SUE ME

credits to @atitanbitch for the idea to include Sid and Tatum in the little bubble and @powderedbleach for reminding me about THE ROBEEEE OH and ofc @harleykeenervarient for sending me the photo reference I used in the first place yall rock <3

included below are alternate versions of this drawing that I was having some fun with mwuahaha that includes no shirt, no shirt plus some ~shweed~ and also ofc trans version bc cmon

alright thats all for now.... thats my cue to slink back into the void until I return with another art drop BYEEEEEE

[jabesa0]

In case anyone wants to know my opinion on the recent obm announcement

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[gotham-daydreams]

Alfred: *uses emotional blackmail and guilt tripping against the Batfam*

*ITS SUPER EFFECTIVE*

That's exactly it! LMAO

What can he say? Guilt, and just becoming aware of how much you've missed of someone's life — someone who lived in the same house as you for years, and is supposed to be family no less — is an incredibly good motivator.

Just a few spare tapes being played at just the right moment, and couple of flyers being handed to them — well, he hardly had to do much at all. They did the rest of the work themselves, though to say that wasn't the point all along would be a lie.

All he had to do was plant the seeds, and give them a bit of water, before just sitting back and watching them grow. :]

He's just an old man, and someone very dedicated to his job. He can't just look for the reader by himself... not as efficiently or quickly as the rest of the Batfam can, anyway. So he might as well pull a few harmless tricks to at least get them searching.

After all, it's the least they could do, no?

[chiropteracupola]

granby + iskierka + keynes

[luck-of-the-drawings]

FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.

[dollypopup]

I'm sorry, but this is THE most vanilla fandom ever. Oh my goddddd. The entire lot of us freaking out over *checks notes* Colin watching porn. like i have legit seen takes of people being like 'Penelope should know his kinks before he CORRUPTS her' and 'won't anyone think of Penelope's perspective in this!!!' and 'she needs to know and agree to his fetishes'

like I'm SO sorry peeps are pearl clutching over Colin being a kinky little freak (allegedly) but like the man BEEN had a thing for watching and a filthy mouth, sorry not sorry, but I'm kind of loving the idea that he's joining the battle against kink and debauchery on the side of kink and debauchery and frankly I think Penelope would, too

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 19 - Nostalgia

What a difference a year can make!

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #3: Levinstrike

Prompt: tempest || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: Spoilers through the beginning of zone five. Mentions of someone throwing up, but said mention is non-graphic.

*stares contemplatively at this prompt fill* ...yeah, I'm gonna run cover.

*runs for cover*

--

There were a lot of reasons for why Rereha was finding herself very much not liking Yyasulani.

First and foremost, of course, was the giant purple dome of fucking doom that had engulfed the region, spat out murderous magitek automatons led by an equally murderous patricide with a chip on his shoulder, and resulted in the heartbreak and misery of a multitude of Turali, including her darling new not-so-little sister, Lamaty’i. (Lamaty’i had dibs on Zoraal Ja’s head, but Rereha would gladly do a live retelling of how she’d killed Zenos at the edge of the universe with her bow, using that warmongering asshole as her “assistant.”)

Second was the fact that Erenville, normally a bastion of cool-headedness and acerbic wit that rode herd on them all better than even Heron, Queen of the ‘I’m Not Mad Just Disappointed’ Face, was currently a spooked, jumpy, and generally upset young man. With every step they took, Erenville grew tenser and tenser, until he was practically vibrating with it, and unable to mask just how shaken he was to see his home so strangely aged and decrepit. Rereha did not like to see her friends (even the ones who refused to acknowledge they were, actually, friends) upset. Someone needed to be made miserable for this. (Probably Zoraal Ja.)

Third was all the gods-forsaken levin within the confines of the dome. Static snapped and crackled and popped (hah, that had a nice ring to it, actually) across all of them, and across every surface, and the only reason they likely weren’t shocking themselves was the sheer amount of levin aether soaking into everything, even making it difficult to breathe. Synnove had summoned Ipomoea, and the unaspected carbuncle was carefully perched on her person’s shoulder while maintaining a light shield around their group to lessen the pressure of so much fucking levin on them.

Fourth, and newest on the list, was the fact that little Roksana—not quite so little as she had once been like a bitty squishy Heavensturn mochi, the steady infusions of aether over the years ensuring she and her sister were now two-thirds the size of Galette—had just spontaneously manifested at Synnove’s feet.

Alone.

That is, by herself.

No Amandina.

Which had never, ever happened before.

Ever.

Synnove’s face was doing the kind of journey between expressions that would likely result in a pulled muscle and would, under any other circumstance, be funny to witness, but right now just made Rereha feel ill.

Mommy, Roksana warbled, eyes huge and teary, something’s wrong with Amandina.

“Oh, fuck this place in the ear,” Rereha said under her breath as the party dissolved into chaos.

--

They had hurriedly backtracked to Yyasulani Station and holed up in one of the decaying buildings. Synnove had folded herself onto the floor cross-legged, her bracelet of carbuncle foci cupped in her hands, and had spent a full bell coaxing Amandina into manifesting.

The black pearl carbuncle looked terrible as Synnove gently cuddled her. Her ears and tails were drooping, the aetheric glow of her coat was dim and dusty with no sign of the pretty purple among the black strands of her fur, and her eyes and nose were gummy and crusty and just gross. The poor baby looked like how Rereha felt after one of those stupid parties she used to attend as a dumbass socialite fuckwit in Ul’dah, and she resisted the urge to swipe at her own nose.

Mommy, I [have a tummy ache.]

Amandina’s harmonic had warped and rippled, ringing with multiple tones of trying to translate an untranslatable concept. Now Rereha wanted to reach into her own brain and scratch frantically to relieve the itchiness hearing that had left in her grey matter.

“What,” Lamaty’i whispered, arm raised up to rub her temple across the leather embossing on her collar as her ears twitched at high speed, “the fuck.”

“Your mind essentially force-translated Amandina’s aetheric harmonic into words you can understand,” Krile said, blinking rapidly and reaching up to rub at her eyes.

“At least into the closest approximation,” G’raha said, scritching frantically at the back of his neck until Alisaie swatted his hand away.

Amadina groaned, turning in Synnove’s arms and pulling herself up so she could burrow her face into her mama’s neck. Synnove carefully adjusted her grip on the carbunclet, one hand supporting her butt and the other stroking her head and ears, while Roksana, who had been draped atop Synnove’s head like a weird hat, practically oozed down on top of her twin. Ipomoea, perched on Synnove’s knee, wore an unfocused expression that meant she was still in the middle of running a full diagnostic scan.

“It’s all this fucking levin,” Synnove growled. “Her aspect means she’s already highly sensitive to levin aether, sure, but none of the carbuncles have ever been somewhere where they’ve been exposed to such dangerous levels of their respective aspected aethers.”

“Not even in Eureka?” G’raha said, ears perking. “I would have thought Anemos and Pyros would have posed some danger to Galette and Ivar.”

Synnove shook her head.

“The density of elemental aether was unprecedented at the concentrations encountered on Val,” Krile said, “but it does not compare to what has happened to Yyasulani. Despite each region of the island being warped to reflect their elemental aspects, they were also balancing one another, which allowed such diversity in wildlife to continue thriving. The amount of levin here has essentially rendered Yyasulani…”

“…ecologically dead,” Erenville finished, voice flat and eyes shuttered, even as a shudder briefly shook his frame. Lamaty’i pulled him into a one-armed hug and for once, Erenville didn’t fight it.

(Rere wondered if Lamaty’i was adding items to her mental tally of crimes for which to hold Zoraal Ja responsible. Rere certainly was.)

[Suggestion: Mistress Synnove,] Ipomoea said, her harmonic oddly distant as she continued her scan of Amandina, [a temporary ward on Junior Construct Amandina’s aetheric input sub-array may provide relief of symptoms. Estimation: effectiveness currently calculated at fifty-three point six five seven percent.]

“We’ll get started on mapping that once you’ve finished your diagnostic,” Synnove said, continuing to stroke Amandina’s ears down along her spine. “Amandina, do you want to de-manifest?”

Noooooooo, Amandina whined. Mommy cuddles feel good.

[Observation: physical contact has decreased hazardous levels of levin in Junior Construct Amandina by three point eight percent.]

“Hmm, might be actually be siphoning it off,” Synnove muttered, then sighed. “Carrying Amandina isn’t ideal as we’re reconning, but perhaps—”

Static SNAPPED through the room, causing them all to jump. Amandina whimpered.

Mommy, I think I’m gonna throw up.

There was a flurry of movement as Roksana scrambled off her sister and jumped into Rereha’s outstretched arms, Ipomoea leaped backwards, and Synnove scrambled to her knees, pulling Amandina off her shoulder as Heron dove forward with a pot yanked off Erenville’s gleaner pack. Heron got the pot beneath Amandina’s face just in time, and the poor carbunclet made an awful HRRK noise as levin aether so concentrated it was a liquid poured from her mouth.

Synnove twitched, jerking her head up to the stare at the ceiling even as she kept petting Amandina and making soothing noises in her throat. Heron had gone grey, and Rereha distantly noted similar expressions on Alakhai, Alisaie, and G’raha.

Who was she kidding, she was wearing it, too. Good to know she wasn’t the only one fighting back a bad flashback to certain events on the First.

Seriously, fuck this place in the ear. With something hard and sandpapery.

…I kinda feel a little better. Amandina’s harmonic very softly drifted through Rere’s mind. The carbunclet’s upper body was still mostly in the pot, until Synnove carefully picked her up and set to cleaning her face.

“Mages, on me,” Synnove snapped. Krile, G’raha, and Alisaie darted into motion, with Alisaie digging into Synnove’s pack and emerging with chalk, graphite sticks, and scrap paper as Krile and G’raha began clearing a spot on the floor. Synnove walked forward on her knees, then sat again with Amandina curling into a miserable, sniffling ball in her lap at the edge of the new workspace. “We’re making that ward now, and I’ve even got an idea on how to adapt it for non-aetheric individuals like ourselves to make this shithole less awful for us. Sorry, Erenville.”

“No, you’re right,” the Shetona said, forcing himself into motion to begin setting up a temporary camp for them all. “This is a shithole now.”

“I’ll give Zoraal Ja an extra punch for you,” Lamaty’i said solemnly.

“I actually appreciate that,” Erenville said wrily. “Rereha, could you dispose of the pot? I’ve got another and I’d rather not try to salvage that one.”

“Can do,” Rere said, tucking Roksana under her arm and darting forward to grab the ruined pot by the handle. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go dig a hole.”

Oooooh, digging, yay!

Awww, the sound of Amandina’s grumbling followed them out the door. Being sick stinks.

[d8tl55c]

early in the morning after dead'nt, orange has a question.

usually he'd still be asleep long past now, but he wanted to ask about... TDL.

without the others interrupting.

so, he goes to chosen's door.

immediately this plan starts to slip off the rails.

no one knows where dark is.

...........because the others may or may not have spent the entirety of last night searching for him in every nook and cranny except there and they said they'd tell him if they found him and no one woke him up yet so

that means, the only logical conclusion is: he's in chosen's room.

so how is orange gonna ask chosen his question????

well, usually, chosen lets him just walk in.

s0!

here goes nothin

he opens the utterly silent door.

green made it special for cho, because they didn't want anyone to ever hear it being opened.

as a special bonus, yellow was able to code the door in such a way that it would never need any maintenance related to sound: its hinges and latches would stay pristinely quiet, forever.

so chosen doesn't wake up when orange sneaks inside.

they wake up when orange takes one step in, spots bright red, and fails to stifle a gasp.

"oh shit!!" orange whispers.

chosen's eyes peek over the covers.

"I'm sorry! i didn't know- uh, i would've- if um- i can come back later-"

they stare at him. "what's wrong." chosen prefers clear and concise, especially early in the morning.

"you-" orange carefully picks his next words. "and him-"

they're in the same bed.

"yep." chosen nods.

orange stands there.

then he shrugs.

"um, sorry. on our shows, this is always a big point of conflict. we don't know why. so i just didn't want to- you know. assume otherwise."

"oh. thanks...?" chosen blinks sleepily. "yeah, it's okay."

"okay!"

"you wanted something?"

"yeah, so-"

orange cuts off again midsentence.

TDL is beginning to stir.

dark emits the highest little squeak-whine that orange has ever heard (even compared to red's baby rabbits), and raises a hand to tug chosen back down to the pillow.

chosen turns their entire face to him, trilling.

they both perform a little brushy-brushy head bonk thing.

then chosen maneuvers their body (under the covers) so it, presumably, mingles more tightly with dark's.

this is satisfactory - for now. dark grumbles about it and stuffs his head under chosen's chin.

orange stands pixel-perfectly still by the door.

"you were saying?" chosen finally turns back to him.

"uh," orange stalls.

dark's eyes open.

he awakens with terrifying speed, untangling from chosen, hoisting up from the covers, and raising a warning fireball within milliseconds.

the room shifts into blazing color and stark shadows.

he shrieks,

"GET OUT!!!"

it seems dark does not, "okay" this situation.

orange drops, scrambles, and miraculously operates the door with enough precision to tumble out the other side unscathed.

silently, the door shuts itself behind him.

...

the fireball is put away.

...

"cho, why do you allow The Beast into your room?"

chosen snorts. "it was him who rebuilt you."

dark snarls. "are you SURE it wasn't some trick? you watched the whole time? i don't trust it."

"i trust him."

"why? how?? you do understand why i have reservations about it???"

"yes," chosen nods. "But I trust him."

They press their very cold head into dark's very warm head, and both of them sigh in relief.

"He brought me you."

dark huffs. "mm."

...

"and other things," chosen concedes. "you... weren't there."

"tell me."

...

outside, orange is still collapsed, upside down, against the wall, across from chosen's door, where he crashed earlier in his escape.

red has just found him while coming upstairs to check out the commotion.

"orange!? u okay?"

"yeap," orange strains. "all good."

"what happened?"

orange's hand flops on the floor towards chosen's door. "you were right. dark's in there."

red takes a second to digest this.

then his hands fly up to his mouth.

"what're they doing in there?????? did you see???"

"yes. i dunno."

"were they ? ? ?

fucking ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?"

orange squints at him.

through the door, two voices loudly interrupt,

"NO!"

the angrier voice adds,

"AND FUCK OFF!"

red squeaks and hurries back down the stairs.

orange sighs deeply.

this has been a terrible learning experience for all.

[aldercaps]

up next on illustrating my dreams: high school friend turns self into werewolf using underground fight club beserker ritual, you (werewolf by birth) come across him and are understandably horrified by this

[warper-in-training]

Some of ya'll need to start parcticing don't like, don't read the hell.

I'm sick of this fandom, ya'll harrass writers and artists away from this fandom over dark shit you can't stomach and ignore. all you did was ruining this fandom. I will publicly say that I'm anti-harrassment, and supprtive of problematic elements in fiction. the game's main story contains elements of incest, noncon, dubcon, interspecies ships, abuse, grooming, etc and some of ya'll are crying over someone HEADCANONING smth cause of their TRAUMA.

the fuck ya'll are attacking them for? they even mentioned they have trauma of what they wrote. don't like it? DON'T READ. I personaly don't like evil Michael hcs.

does that mean I get to attack the author? NO. me being uncomfortable or triggered cause of it has nothing to do with THEM. its MY problem.

writing & hcing grooming, problematic shit, etc does NOT mean someone does it irl. nor supports it. some of ya'll tend to find a small, not so well known person in the community to harrass. hell, i even I bet ya'll harrassed @/devildomwriter over their raph x belph post. ya'll made posts about @/boxbusiness on that confesson blog too so i donr except much.

I'm dissapointed at what this community has become. leave artists alone. leave people alone.