#yes im going to bed now

[mushed-kid]

quick hunk drawing because i felt like it

idk if the colors are right but i tried

[ganondoodle]

(OC Lore and design time!)

(it got longer again ... sorry ... idk how to make things short, i just need to talk, but i guess if you can read the written stuff in the pic thats the barest bare bones of what i wrote here)

i was asked what new lore story stuff i had thought about that made me sad which i mentioned a bit ago, and while that is too hard to explain given all the missing context i thought i could at least talk about lore having to do with it :D

so, (Lord) Eadrya is one of my fav OCs (big blue lad, here a rough sketch in humanoid form) they are both one of if not THE most powerful demon alive and the most battle trained;

at the mid point of the story the demon world gets invaded by the celestials (the angel inspired things i talked about in the previous lore post with Xaror) and Shargon, as the king, should be their first and only frontline, but at this point his life is only being sustained by maschinery after being mortally wounded, he cannot fight (he realizes what is going on, rips himself off the maschinery to get at least his youngest child to safety, barely managing it before dying- the guardian, the demons god, takes over his body to attempt to fight against the celestials but cant keep itself alive long enough since its host is already dead) Eadrya takes the role of the frontline fighter (despite being very full of themselves and aggressive they care about their 'job' of protecting their own, also giving them the chance to show off just how strong they are); the fight was going well for them all things considered, but when the guardian activates it drains the power of all elemental lords (which Eadrya is one of, and since they have the most strength it also takes the most from them), so much so that they lose the fight and suffer deadly wounds (the worst being a spear through the chest made of a material that grows hard, root-like formations when in contact with demonic blood like a fungus but worse, also stopping any self healing processes) after the guardian falls apart it creates a huge shockwave of energy that stuns every living thing within a certain distance and possibly more-

Eadrya (in true demon form, so like a blue whale in size at least) was likely taken through an active gateway to the human world in a large tidal wave also created by the guardians fall; they wash up in the harbor of a small secluded village, the head of which is 'lady 13'; although never having seen a demon before and everyone being afraid (largely thinking its a strange hurt animal, only she suspected otherwise), they still gather all villagers to pull out the celestial spear, which is diffcult and brutal given that its already taken root, but the village lacked both knowledge and means to help any other way- doing so damaged their heart which is how they were able to collect samples of all three demonic blood types ('normal' -red like humans-, energy -essentially purely magic- and heartblood -highly concentrated energy only found within the heart of a demon and the only one to contain genetic material) (this is the start of Eadryas character arc, having to deal with the fact that their world is likely destroyed, them failing what they didnt think they could fail, having lost a battle so badly (even if not really their fault) for the first time and not knowing if literally anyone else has survived .. also being now stuck in the human world, which they dont like)

Lady 13 (placeholder name? stands for experiment 13) is a human that was tricked by demon hunters to enroll into a series of experiments trying to create hybrids of demons and humans, which they hoped would be powerful and easily controllable tools for their endeavours, though the two are inherently not compatible, they tried grafting body parts of demons on humans to make them compatible- all experiments failed except for her, more or less, though she never got to see the hybrid she carried and was then told it had died too, they threw her out believing she wouldnt survive much longer either and all such experiments were cancelled due to the high cost of human life, research material (demons are still rare) and upkeep with no successful results Lady 13 survived though (perhaps even via the pirates picking her up?) and she ended up living in said small village far away, hiding her half demonic body, though most know there soemthing 'wrong' with her (her being this tall when it doesnt fit the rest for one), only few know the full extent; she enjoys the life she has now, perhaps on the more poor side but safer and more loved than ever before; she largely lead the efforts to try and help Eadrya when they ended up in the harbor, though there wasnt that much anyone could do it was still enough- they leave immediately after waking up, but return after really having nowhere to go and struggling to deal with everything that has happened; over time (probably years) they start to open up towards the people there (though not .. very much) enough to get rather close with Lady 13 too- she actually falls madly in love but after Eadrya (extremely aro/ace) rejects all her attempts quite clearly she respects their boundaries

However, after hearing news of potential demon sightings Eadrya decides to leave in hopes of not being the last demon left after all; Lady 13 then decides to reveal her secret to them (though hearing and seeing what lengths hunters would go to for their experiments makes them absolutely seething with rage- she insists on not being out for revenge) and asks if they would be willing to donate a small amount of heartblood; shes always wanted to be a mother but is now incompatible with humans too- through things she picked up back at the experiments facillity, hers and her doctors research she is sure that is all that is needed, she dares to ask since she does not know when, if ever, she will meet another demon, much less one she could actually trust enough for this though Eadrya hesitates (why would she want to go through the same thing again that didnt work and threatened her life, if it does work, do they want to be involved with any of this? what if hunters find out it worked after all?) but after her ensuring that they would have no part in it other than giving up a little blood and would not be considered a parent in any way, nor made responsible for anything that might happen to her, but considering it all in the end they agree to it

only for her to reveal shes had a small bottle of it already, along with multiple samples of the other types, which she collected when Eadrya was bleeding out into the harbor not knowing if they will survive, though not wanting to make use of it without their consent either way (they are actuallly rather touched by this)

alot later the main group returns here and it turns out to have worked (though she is unable to walk/bedridden for a long while bc it did alot of damage to her body, which can heal since its demons parts, but only really slowly bc she does not have a full functioning system and no demonic blood of her own -she uses the other samples for the healing process-) though its a little awkward to explain, especially considering that 13.1 took alot after Eadrya xD (their theory as to why it worked so "well" that time is that even though the sample was already taken, them giving their consent for it still made it less likely to be rejected; demons dont need partners to have offspring, and all can do it, they just have to decide to- so them agreeing to it, even though its long been outside their body, still had an effect on the blood sample)

[kr-210-r2700-prime]

despite minor setbacks (being out for 10 or so hours) we are back to your regularly scheduled programming

[baconcolacan]

Some future Toms I drew for my own sanity cause, you know, still mad at Tord. HES FUN AND SILLY AND I LIKE HIM THAT WAY

[thatonechocogirl]

woe

ber bro art be upon ye

[obliviouskara]

there should really be more fics about lena and kara fighting specifically lena losing her shit with how mad she is with everything kara has done she's usually more calm & collected but somehow being in love with an indestructible alien makes her want to throw a fit. i've always love it when lena's so mad she starts throwing things at kara and i know its bad but i mean she throws things at her with full force and they just like bounce off of her like its nothing which it probably is and it infuriates lena even more like we know lena doesn't really want to hurt kara but sometimes it must be nice knowing your bestfriend (who you're not so secretly madly in love with however has kept a huge secret from you that has caused you tremendous pain, is made out of steel) like cmon! dont you think its a little funny? especially since kara is probably scared, not of the possibility that lena might hurt her but is scared for two reasons. one: lena might end up hurting herself and two, of how terrifying a lena luthor is when she's mad

[catilinas]

im gonna eat this guy's phd thesis ouhgufdhg

[boinky-spoinky]

I can’t take anything serious with this show

[sluckythewizard]

these are A BIT OLD but uhhh here check out these aggio doodles i did forever ago. still VERY happy w my colors :3

[the-kipsabian]

[dipplinduo]

Fun fact about me: April 18th is my birthday! :)

And part of what I wanted to do to celebrate this year was to give back. Introducing * ~ a dipplinshipping birthday oneshot ~ * :

Rating: T

Summary:

Today was Kieran's birthday, but it was the last thing that mattered to him. In fact, he vowed it would never matter to him again. Instead, he would focus on things that would keep him strong: his battling, his strategizing, and his crown as the Blueberry Champion. His sister and the Elite Four won't stop asking him random questions, though, and if anyone brings up Juliana any more than they already have since she arrived as an exchange student, he's seriously going to lose it. But...why can't he stop thinking about her? And why is everyone acting so suspicious?!

A bittersweet birthday celebration fic for anyone who's had complicated feelings about their birthday. <3

Take this as a thank you to all of those who have followed my work and/or my Tumblr blog. I wouldn't have imagined having the support of this wonderful community on my last birthday, and I can't even begin to describe how encouraged and inspired I have felt to write since finding you guys. I have never written this much for this long, consistently, and your constant feedback and comments seriously brighten my day more than Juliana brightens up Kieran, LOL. Hope you enjoy this! <333

(And yeah, this fic is the "event based idea" that this poll was about. I thought it was so funny that some of you thought it was gonna be some devastating angst LMAOOOO. That's for after TTPD releases, tysm for the bday gift Taylor.)

[snarky-wallflower]

okay. i'm finally gonna try my hand at this analysis thing. @kmesons, i hope you don't mind that i've been spinning this in my head since yesterday.

for a bit of context, it's a bit of a running joke that i'm in my "curtwen arc" with a bunch of people - just a silly joke, right? and i always, always play curt.

oh boy, i don't think anything stays a joke in the spies fandom for long.

so. let's talk about how curt has been mourning a ghost for four years. let's talk about how he replayed the memories of their time together over and over again in his mind, of laughter and quick shots and the love there. let's talk about how curt has tried to commit every part of the owen he knew to memory - after all, "owen would want me to do this, so i know that i'll get through this". let's talk about how curt has spent four years lost in drink and regret and the memories of the man he thinks he killed. those memories are all he has left of owen - what else can he cling to?

let's talk about how curt saw owen for the first time, alive, and was taken aback by the sheer hate in owen's voice as he made reference after reference to the fall, casually insulting curt, calling him a fool and a coward. about how owen had given up on the beliefs that had first brought them together.

(the owen he knew never would have done that. the owen he knew was one of the few people he knew that treated him as an adult, as someone who was more than just a cocky spy. )

let's talk about curt chasing after owen, chasing after a ghost - but this time, he's physical, alive and real. curt could reach out and touch him this time, if he wasn't so sure that owen would take it as a strike, a blow to hurt. curt isn't even sure if it isn't that yet. owen still won't stop taunting curt, dragging him ever-so-closer to the edge, as a spiralling pit opens up in curt's stomach. owen is so cruel, so unlike the man he lost four years ago. the memories they shared are dissolving, falling just like owen did, as every insult, every blow reopens old wounds.

old wounds that owen had once helped him stitch together.

(the owen he knew would have rolled his eyes, would have made snippy comments as they traded blows, but he had loved curt. curt knows this like he knows the back of his hand. it's been four years. has he been wrong all this time?)

(god, what does it mean if he has been?)

curt has spent so long sustaining himself on memories of the time they shared that he just can't look at owen and not see the man he used to be. curt doesn't even blame owen for hating him, really. curt hates himself most days, too. but this? what about the beliefs they shared? what about making a difference? on the staircase, he can barely look owen in the eyes anymore, so utterly terrified of seeing what the man he loved has become. a poltergeist, a revenant, something dead walking the earth with hate in his heart. how he rants and raves, trying to get curt to see, which curt utterly refuses to. curt tries so frantically to reach out, to make owen someone he can save, but owen will never, ever be that person for curt again. there are so many versions of this scene, aren't there? but in this one, in so many, in every world where curt and owen simply cannot communicate--

(the owen he knew doesn't exist anymore.)

let's talk about how curt raised his gun. at the man he loved, at the man he spent so long mourning.

let's talk about how curt stared up at owen, raising his gun to his temple, and recognized both so much and so little in those eyes, in him. let's talk about how he recognized the spark in owen's eyes, but not the sheer betrayal behind it. how he knew the exact colour of those eyes, but not the tremble in owen's voice as he demanded to know what curt was doing.

the man he loved wasn't there anymore.

let's talk about how curt pulled the trigger.

let's talk about how curt has to live with that for the rest of his life, but he still pulled the trigger. how owen carvour after the fall was someone curt couldn't save, who didn't want to be saved.

...but especially not by curt.

after mourning a ghost for four years, agent curt mega ended it for good.

agent curt mega killed a ghost. but he killed a ghost with owen's face and owen's wit, owen's anger - you can't break the will of a man, but you can do so much worse, if you try. and oh, how curt's tried to destroy himself over the years. how he's just now destroyed the shell of a man that he built his love around, and then his grief, and then both again as owen carvour falls to the floor.

it will haunt curt. for however much longer he lives.

spies aren't forever. curt knows this better than anyone.

[a-wondering-thought]

something something, i'll always be enchanted by people gathering through the blur of the crowd to watch that someone playing their music in the city as the music echos through the streets with the sound of their craft, whether its a young teen trying out on their guitar trying to share what they can do with the world, or older folk reliving the dreams of their youth through the flow of the instrument, they are under the tunnel in the dim flickering street lamps, the young creating memories of their first days as a musician playing for a crowd whose faces they cant recognise or the old coming back to the roots where they first began and made those very memories under the tunnel with the dim street lamp, it wasn't flickering back then, but the moonlight still shines down just past the entrance to the tunnel, and the older joins younger because one day the young will become the old playing the sweet tunes of their youth

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oooo it's been a while since the last snippet :]c it's another fantasy au one where I'm! Putting! Barnaby! Through It!

a minor warnings: implied/referenced major character death <3

 No one eats dinner, and Frank won’t stop tapping his spoon against his bowl. Tok tok tok it goes, over and over again.

Poppy made a simple stew from their provisions, but only Eddie and Sally make an attempt at tasting it. Their halfhearted ‘it’s good’s don’t pierce the pressure weighing down on them all. Barnaby swears he can taste it, thick and cloying. 

Already he keeps catching himself looking for Wally. Where is- he starts to think, and then he remembers the moment Wally fell with a spear piercing his chest, and the grief rises so fast it nearly drowns him in a heartbeat. Barnaby can’t bring himself to try and hide it behind anything but a stony mask. In any other situation he might try to put some levity into the group. Cheer up the sad and empty faces staring into their meals. 

He wouldn’t be able to think of a single lighthearted thing even if he wanted to. He doesn’t.

Tok tok tok-

Shuffling from Howdy’s tent has everyone glancing over at it, and Frank’s spoon stills. Howdy briefly woke up while Poppy was cooking. All he did was sit up, look at everyone, then pitch to the side and vomit. They got him into a tent before he passed out again, mumbling something about puppets. Frank made a comment about how Howdy was supposed to be a bit out of it, not at fae-drunk levels of hazy. Eddie had muttered back a dejected apology, and after that the camp was silent until Poppy’s announcement that dinner was ready. The spoon continues tapping when the shuffling stills.

Tok tok tok-

Since Eddie and Sally saying that dinner is good, there hasn’t been a noise beyond the occasional sniffle. It’s a good thing Julie isn’t trying her stew - it must be disgustingly salty from all the tears dripping into it. 

Tok tok tok-

Barnaby sighs through his nose and puts his bowl down, sick of looking at everyone’s misery. He would say that he’s going to go sleep, but he has a feeling that none of them are getting a wink tonight. 

Tok tok-

Before he can stand, Frank blurts, “We shouldn’t have attacked it. It was a mistake.”

“Please don’t,” Julie begs.

“There’s no need to rub salt in the wound,” Sally says firmly, her stew starting to sizzle from the rising heat in her hands.

“Not right now, Frank,” Eddie mutters. 

Frank visibly bristles, and he launches to his feet. “I refuse to pretend not to have seen what I did! The truth is a terrible thing, but someone needs to say it. Wally lied to us.”

“Frank…” Barnaby warns.

“We shouldn’t have attacked the demon,” Frank barrels on, ignoring him, “because there was no need to. It didn’t eat Wally until the end because the demon is his patron. Wally was never a wizard at all, he was a warlock-”

Barnaby lunges with a deep bark that echoes against the trees. The crickets symphony falls silent. Frank trips backwards over his seat, staring up with wide eyes as Barnaby stalks around the fire, growling. Eddie and Sally slowly stand, inching between him and Frank. 

Barnaby stops, snout bunched and canines bared. He jabs a claw at Frank. “Don’t you ever say that again. Ever.”

Frank’s mouth flaps uselessly for a moment. When he speaks, it comes out as a whisper, “I’m-”

“If you end that with right instead of sorry, I’ll make damn sure that you are.”

Frank wisely keeps his mouth shut. The crickets continue chirping.

Barnaby glares at him until Frank looks away. Barnaby straightens his vest with a sharp tug and strides away from the fire, towards his and- his tent. Just his, now. Murmuring breaks out at his back. He yanks the flap open, grabs his pipe and herb pouch, and heads towards the forest. He pauses only to listen by Howdy’s tent, waiting to hear proof of life before continuing on.

Once he can’t see the firelight anymore, Barnaby chooses a random tree and sits heavily in front of it. Rough bark digs into his back through his vest. A night bird hoots overhead. Crickets continue to make their music, but Barnaby wishes they would shut up for good. 

Light from the full moon pours through the branches to provide just enough light to see by. Barnaby holds up his pipe and quickly puts it to the side to take off a grimy glove. The heart-pad and blue fur underneath contrasts vibrantly with the dust-grayed rest of him. After a moment he removes the other glove, wincing as the leather drags over his injured knuckles. He turns his paw over and scowls at the dirty black edges of the red-raw scrapes. He should have punched harder. He hopes it scars, even though he knows it won’t.

The gloves themselves are scuffed up, but not beyond use. Barnaby folds them into his pocket and gets to work lighting his pipe. He packs it and instinctively opens his mouth to ask Wally to light it for him. The words die on his tongue as he turns only to see dark forest. Empty woods save for the tiny blue lights of night wisps floating on the breeze. 

Barnaby stares into the darkness with yawning dread. He keeps looking. How long will it take him to stop? How long until Wally’s face starts to smudge in his memories, until his voice is gone and Barnaby doesn’t even remember what his smile looked like? How long until Barnaby only thinks of him in passing? 

He doesn’t want to reach that point. He desperately does. 

Will it hurt more or less? Does it matter? He wants it to ache until he dies.

Barnaby frantically fishes his sparkrune out of the herb pouch - only there for emergencies, when Wally or Sally isn’t there to light it for him. It will wear down to a nub within the month. He strikes his thumb claw against it, and sparks fly expertly into the bowl of his pipe. It takes a moment to catch. Barnaby lifts the bit to his lips and takes a drag before enough smoke forms for a lungful. 

Maybe he should have grabbed the stronger stuff. If he breathes enough of it, maybe he’d be able to see Wally. 

But Barnaby doesn’t get up in the end. He sits against the base of a tree and hugs himself, the pipe’s intermittent glow betraying the shine in his eyes.

[lexosaurus]

And I'm back on my nerdiness!

This fic is a crossover between Danny Phantom x The Martian. You do not have to have read or watched The Martian to understand this fic. Although, I've convinced a double-digit number of people to read The Martian since I started this fic and I think that speak volumes to how obsessed I am about this media.

xxxx

Summary: When Astronaut Mark Watney went to Mars, he knew there was a chance he'd never come home. Now, though, he's determined to last long enough for NASA to save him because this whole dying for science thing is not as fun as it sounds.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton is just trying to keep his identity a secret amidst a potential crisis with his powers. Seriously, what's up with that weird current under his skin? Why is he having so much trouble controlling it? And why does it feel so familiar...?

In a fit of determination (and possible stupidity), Danny goes to Mars to save Watney, only to add to both their crises when he arrives and can't get home. Will NASA save them? Will Danny have a home to return to if they do?

Chapter WC: 5801

Fic Tags: Danny Fenton & Mark Watney, Canon Divergence, Ecton AU

Chapter excerpt under the cut

xxxx

“I’m the potato of—what day is it?” Mark glanced at the computer. “May seventeenth! The spooky seventeenth potato ghost!”

“You’re delusional,” was Danny’s response. “And also still not over the fact that you missed May fourth.”

Mark lowered the potato. “Well, usually, I rely on supernerd Johannsen for vital dates like that. But since she’s gone, it was your job to pick up the slack! Haven't you seen Star Wars?”

“Of course I have!” Danny exclaimed, crossing his arms. It was almost offensive that Mark would think for a second that Danny hadn’t seen Star Wars. “But you forgot about May fourth too! Don’t try to pin this on me. I’m not your personal C3P-O.”

“No, you’re more of a Chewbacca.”

Okay, now his angsty mood had entirely turned into offense. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’m Han Solo, obviously.”

“Why do you get to be Han Solo?”

It was as if Danny had just asked why rockets exist if Mark’s expression was anything to go by. His eyebrows shot to his hairline, and his mouth opened with a comical amount of confidence—or was it arrogance—as he gestured to himself and answered, “Well, duh.”

As if that were supposed to sum it up.

“That explains nothing!” Danny argued.

“It’s quite literally the only bit of explanation you need, Chewie.”

“I’m not Chewbacca.”

“And the sky isn’t orange.”

Okay, all the prying into Danny’s personal business? That was rough, Danny had to admit. But this? 

This was unforgivable.

[imgonnagetyoubacktv]

it's not sinking in that today might be the last day in my house and town for many months to come