#just a quick lil thing

[barblaz-arts]

look me in the eye and tell me Charlie wouldn't do this

[dustybones]

Devora playing bg3 is everything

i'm gonna make a whole mini series about dev'zel fr

[its-coda]

The silly <3

[occultopossum]

Wakes up like a beautiful dead wife in a flash back Wanted to draw some past jae from when he had a few happy moments

[accidentarisen]

Drew my boy Leevi <3

[ittybittybumblebee]

Bnuny

[raitrolling]

The dragon flew across the skies, focused on the goals he had decided upon since leaving the mage’s traveling store. 

He needed food, and he needed answers. 

The present state of the world was too unfamiliar to him: Trolls have built cities much larger than the ones from his time, strange technology, strange customs, he avoided all of them in favour of exploring the countryside and forests. He felt more comfortable here, the rolling fields contained ample livestock for him to devour, and the more isolated the location, the more likely he would find what he’s looking for.

The presence of other mages.

Magic was scarce around these parts, and following the traces of magical energy he could sense only lead him to stray undead shambling about in the sun. They did not provide the dragon enough sustenance to restore his own magical energy, but it was enough to help sustain this form. That became more important to him, although the moments of clarity he felt while in troll form were a return to the life he once knew, as a dragon he was free. There was nothing weighing him down, only his base instincts to hunt and survive. This form was powerful, the reanimated corpses could not compare to the sheer force of his bite and his claws, and his senses were sharper than ever. 

And when he had encountered another lone mage, their abilities no better than a mere apprentice, they too fell to a simple spell simulating the feeling of drowning - followed by a quick snap of his jaws around their body. So feeble and weak, nothing like those who caused his downfall.

As the dragon licked the teal blood from the mage off his lips, all he could feel was more frustration. The presence of the magic he once knew is nowhere to be found, and the slaughter of these unrelated mages brings him no satisfaction. But he feels as if he has to do it, he has no reason to stop just as he has no reason to continue moving. 

Nights pass, more mages are devoured, and yet the dragon makes no progress in his search. Perhaps the old world and the bloodlines who sealed him away have truly been left in the past. Then what must he do with all this anger? All this hurt? The hunt is meaningless, but it’s the only thing he knows how to do now. 

The rage cannot be quelled, the hunger cannot be satiated, and the beast continues to rampage.

[omnicactus]

hey just a quick note to everyone who follows me bc it’s been a while and ive had a good amount of new followers lately

what stood before still stands: if you are a terf unfollow me, block me, whatever. stay off of and do not interact with my blog and also go fuck yourself while you’re at it

[passionateclown]

ok so i made a

funky lil bomb

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words

“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.

“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 

“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”

“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.

“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”

“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.

A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.

Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”

“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.

He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 

But it’s not like that. Not for you two.

Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —

“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”

Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”

You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”

Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.

You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.

“My thing?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”

“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.

“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”

Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”

You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”

Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 

“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”

You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”

Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.

But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…

“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”

Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”

“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”

You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”

“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.

He’s got nothing but time.

[haunted-xander]

Literally paused what I was working on to make this

[acetier]

Afterwards, relief.

[gallusgalluss]

evil art style challenge >:]

[cd-spoida]

Welp they're demons now

I turned them into demons and I dont regret it

Enjoy and Happy Halloween folks!

Below is just random notes and doodles I did after making this and starring at it a little too long

[ohceeli]

Happy Heathmas Eve...Canto VI soooooon