#just ftr

[thatswhatsushesaid]

not to be a cunt on main (again) about a jokey post in the character tags but I'm 99.9% certain that jgy is not actually responsible for thousands (!!!!) of deaths in any iteration of the mdzs canon.

there is someone who is tho, I'm just blanking on the name

whew glad @poorlittleyaoyao helped me solve that mystery

[bendwill]

Flicks blood on him with his tail.

THE BLOOD SPLATTERS ON A WARD, lazily held up by three fingers. It vaporized on contact. With that, Miraak flicked those fingers towards the other, the radiant energy expanding then outwards in a jolt of something like electricity. “Go sit in your own filth elsewhere, gaas boz.”

[cheddarchaser]

if you think identifying with the q slur makes you more radical than people who don’t for whatever reason. your brain is fucking smooth as a river stone and you deserve to have some sense physically knocked into you

[miss617]

Terminator 2 but the Connors just shove a giant ball of yarn at the T-1000

[spectralsleuth]

Reblog and put your rare pair in the tags/comments! I want to see the depths people will go to create, for the most random two characters in the most obscure media.

[cescalr]

please pretend i finished this yesterday <3 i was up until 4:30am.

to see what he looks like (whole point of this exercise), first etho from start of s9.

raise up that mask for his modesty <3 ooh mysterious wonder what's under there (normal guy)

gas mask. he does live in an alien landscape by this point. a post limited life etho. he stole those earrings (guess who) (easy answer) (why his hair is brownish now) (don't randomly soulbond to people fellas [gn]. leaves lasting impacts on your physiology.)

a post double life etho <3 he was freely given those earrings. Retroactively they will become stolen. Time is relative <3.

maskless post secret-life Etho. <3 <3 For your full understanding of his design. (The sims are basically how I would draw the characters, for the most part. Er. Jevin is... not simmable. Nor is muppet Joe... Im working on it!!! I'm working on it. Joe was meant to be made today but I really need to finish my dissertation. This was me procrastinating. Do not follow my example.)

Anyways! Hermitaday 17 - Ethoslab!! As i am currently unable to draw for a number of reasons, I thought showing my sims of the hermits would be a cool idea. (And since i haven't done any previous days because of my university degree dissertation, have a bunch of random hermits under the readmore; s9 editions)

in order;

general application bdubs <3

king cleo, human hair (wearing a sleevless dress. just. syk.)

king cleo, gorgon hair <3

elven warrior princess gem, outfit 1* <3

general application pearl <3

dwarven imp Impulse <3

elven warrior princess gem, outfit 2* [*I had full body pics of everyone, but I lost them >-< oh well. you get to see doc at least?] <3

general application grian [he's. a bit weird looking. sorry. i try really hard but i am blind. You... don't want to see my first etho attempt

general application false <3

SCARS SO MANY SCARS. first; buttercup <3

second; shirtless. he does that a lot.

cool shirt you can't see because i lost the picture :(

park architect scar <3

elf scar <3

hotguy!!!

doc! m! 77!!

full fit of doc! m! 77!!

mr Ren Dog <3 not finial version. might change the ears?

(The gradients were randomly chosen from my pre-existing gradient collection <3 do not read into them. Except the impulse one because. easy guy to make gradient for. easy. Also you do not see colour banding. it does not exist! sRGB sucks.)

Sm bonus pics (bc i found the fullbodies!!! they're just not edited. no fun gradients. pure blue chroma

(sorry. cw eyestrain:)

fun shirt!!!!!!!!!!!!!

iconic

the guy in question. very tiny <3 because of how photosets work. clicketh the images for better visability.

gems!!!!!!!!!!!

and that's all tumblr will let me fit </3 have a good day everyone who clicked thru to this part!!! <3

[iamanartichoke]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

[gayofthefae]

Mike was going to tell El how he felt and there was no payoff.

The painting was the final push for Mike to tell El the truth before he lied.

Mike has been avoiding all topics on the nature of their relationship or Will vs El to avoid the realization he knows is there.

Mike is going to find out about the painting, be forced to realize his feelings for Will but simultaneously have the emotional security he was given with El to tell her something like that ripped out from under him. Oh, lord. Oh, dear fucking Jesus Christ.

For a moment, I was contemplating "hmm, what if the plots remained more separated out? Like he tells El how he really feels then the Will stuff happens" but the painting. It always comes back to the painting. The painting is about Will AND El. Will you did your best, but you motherfucker. Oh, this is going to be messy.

different tone side note: Can you imagine if Will just...didn't do that? You really fucked this whole thing up, you know that? Like Mike could have told El how he felt and then he'd be single and could separately come to terms with his feelings for Will and they could get together? Like imagine that. But no. I know, I know, I said it myself in many a long, pinned post: the tragedy is what could have been. But it isn't just what it could have been in the end, because that still will be. IT COULD HAVE BEEN SIMPLER YOU @*&^%#!

[girlrichie]

Overwatch devs truly smoking dick and msybe some balls too if they think the winter fair nonsense is “in the spirit of the holidays 😀”

[catball]

[eachuisge-cc]

finally, tumblr-lore-compliant lil wayne

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[definitionofacritter]

The way that Dariax is the only one to end up alone at the end of this.

Opal has Fy'ra; they have their deities. Morrighan has Cyrus's soul for a moment and a Matron for a lifetime. Dorian has the Bells Hells once more. But Dariax... for a while, at least, Dariax will have no one.

And it's in the way that Dariax won't realize at first that he's been abandoned.

Maybe he'll think he lost track of time. He'll go traipsing through town, asking about a handsome blue bard, trying to figure out what inn they must've agreed to meet back at for the night. Because they must have, right?

The night grows dark, and still no sign. He'll get sick with worry. He knows he's thick, but surely he would've noticed if something happened, right? He would've known if Dorian was in danger?

And then... I don't know what's worse from there.

What story does he tell himself, in the end?

That Dorian blames him for not being able to save his brother? No, no, Dorian was taken—because he would never have abandoned him, not when they were all the two of them had left?

Dariax has always known he was a lot to handle. He's been told how exhausting he can be. He knows he has never been worth sticking around for.

But he thought—

—he thought that maybe he'd done it right this time. That maybe someone would stay.

Eventually, Dariax stops looking. He greets isolation like an old friend.

He plays his new lute to fill the lonely silence, and it does not help.

[syn0vial]

my gun-loving, car guy, "i'm the straightest man i know" brother who just finished baldur's gate 3 talking about astarion:

[thatswhatsushesaid]

content warning: canon-typical 3zun 🫠

bonus huaisang, as a treat: