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aueua · 2 years
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exchange
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epitheta · 2 years
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⠀ > M5 - 22 - 2022
scribble
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aphel1on · 5 months
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i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good
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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 1 year
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Congratulations on reaching 1k followers!! You deserve it
Thank you so much!
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Etho cannot deny that in some way, the ocean is messing with his friends, and that he noticed far too late.
It targets Gem first, long before it goes after anyone else, so subtly it’s almost undetectable. Here’s the way he notices: her little boat is cute, but the mangrove wood on the trim seems old and rotten in some places, murky river water staining the paint that coats the sides. The lighthouse, when built, seems washed out, as if the color has been sucked from the stone that forms it. Etho finds this strange, but refuses to jump to conclusions- Gem is still his little sibling with the same warm smile, so he lets it be for now.
It’s really when the fishing craze begins where Etho starts having doubts about the normalcy of things. Grian is in no way an average person most of the time, but this level of dedication is new and sort of suspicious. It starts with the mending book, which is fine, since he’s decided to avoid villager trading this season. Etho comes over sometimes and jokes about the luck of the sea. Here is where it gets weird, though: when he comes over to make that joke again, Grian turns his head, oh so slowly, expression serious and eyes blank as he replies.
“The ocean will provide the book. It’s the next one, I know it.”
It takes a little more effort than it should for Etho to not turn tail and run. The tambre of his friend’s voice is off-kilter and strange, almost hollow in the way it echoes. And it’s the way he doesn’t say mending, he just says the book- Etho can’t help but feel like he isn’t fishing for enchantments anymore. The air smells of rot and slime. He swallows bile, gives a little uh-huh as a reply, and leaves as soon as he can.
Then there’s Pearl and Beef, obsessed with salmon, of all things. Pearl’s thing seems like a one-off, but Doc tells him that Beef has taken the joke about “big salmon” a little too far, claiming he’s gotten emails from them that have threatened the goat directly. Etho doesn’t really know what to make of that, or Pearl’s salmon head, or the continuous slapping of fish on noteblocks that’s driving him insane.
But he knows this: he’s never really liked fishing before, not for its intended use, anyway. It’s good to have in a death game, but not once has Etho found the monotonous motions of fishing appealing. Grian said it best himself: he used to think fishing was lame. And he did. Does. He thinks it’s lame. He thinks all of this stuff about the river and the boats and the ocean and the salmon and the rot is all really weird and not at all cool. He’s only here to make sure his friends are okay. Not to fish, because he doesn’t want to, just to keep Magic Mountain in line.
But Grian says it again: Etho walked up here and was like ‘this is lame’, now look at him! Etho, in turn, looks at his hands. When did he start fishing? Was the sun always that high in the sky? Did the ocean always sing like that? Was there always a magnetic force to the waves at the shore, pulling him closer with every lap of sea foam? Was the lighthouse always this beautiful?
No, no it wasn’t. He knows this. Something is very, very wrong. There’s something in the water that’s making his friends lose it, and there’s something supernatural that’s trying to pull him in. He needs to get out of here, back to the jungle, with its nice green grass and earthy smells-
To his right, Etho hears his death call. The bell rings, the swan sings, and the water keeps lapping at his feet. It’s too late, he knows it, in the way that his hands are gripping the fishing pole with white knuckles, in the way the lilypads seem to grow under his feet to get him closer to the great deep blue. The music continues, the serenade settling into his bones, giving him an eerie sense of calm.
In the magnetic pull of the moment, he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.
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anastacialy · 1 month
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tracked down this clip just because of this post! have jokes from skizz and scar
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wildflowercryptid · 1 month
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dumping a bunch of meme edits at 4am like a well adjusted member of society. also debut of the bb!jules edit i made a while, but then never shared.
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sepiamestus · 3 months
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This fucking thing
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expelliarmus · 3 months
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sleepinglionhearts · 4 months
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New stickers! New stickers!
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aueua · 2 years
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Weren't you the one who made that AU about Tasque Manager being their band manager?
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hmm? probably! but more than just an AU, I outright made it canon to my own personal takes even if the timeline is ridiculous to think about
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epitheta · 2 years
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[1.3k], [pre-canon], 03/lesh
Revolting. That was the shortest way to describe itーthose organic imperfections that could hardly measure up to technology and the like. Writhing masses of plant matter that could topple bastions and grand structures when left unchecked. Repulsive beasts that ran on instincts and a pitiful will to survive, lacking the rationale to perform efficiently.
P03 detested the sight of it all.
Resting within a wide stretch of inky shade to avoid burning out a part, it waited beneath the arch at the entrance of the northeastern temple. Just being there was causing its mechanisms to give way to humidity; it was closer to sea level. And, truthfully? It had better things to do. It didn’t have to wait here for the opposing Scrybe to arrive. It preferred things to move like clockwork and emphasized punctuality: not a second before, not a second after.
Well. Such sentiments recently changed when it came to its fellow Scrybes. Despite its preferences, P03 was the one that had arrived early. The automaton wanted to settle some unresolved issues in its thought-circuit and scan the environment. It was easier to inspect in-person than from above, after all…
It just could use a round of cards right about now.
“I felt that you were early,” Leshy spoke up, moving silently across the grass with languid and creaking movements. “It took me some time… Please, take this as my apology for making you wait.”
Its screen flickered brighter as it stared at what was presented, optics click-readjusting. He held out in cupped hands an array of wooden flowers, its stems whittled roughly into a sanded vase. It was an impressive bouquet of three excessively detailed ones and four much simpler ones underneath, the leaves fewer in number. Something was engraved at the base of it, but his nicked and worn fingers covered it.
A low hum of distortion came from P03’s mic.
"You’re going to say something cheesy, aren’t you?
It supposed Leshy must have felt guilty and seen its discomfort last time when he had given it flowers to watch over. It would never admit to him that it was a calculated actionーkilling those plants and blaming it on its programming to believe “more” was better and drowning the roots as a result. It was perfectly capable of keeping it alive. It also knew the plants would not have flourished in its domain of technology anyways.
 Just… it wanted an excuse, perhaps, to have the druid offer it guidance on his own terms. The concept of creation in the way that those of the east understood it was not within its purview to know intimately.
"P03," Leshy’s eyes smiled into a relaxed squint. He leaned closer, outstretched it further. "This represents my loveー"
"I know so don't say it!" It shouted, waving its clamp wildly just before taking the object by the vase’s neck (slowly, carefully) and turning away with a new scowl, a spark firing throughout its systems. The machine captured every careful part of the gift affectionately. Quieting, when it read what was inscribed.
It was silly like it expected. A shtick about how his love would last as long as the flowers didーknowing full well that these would not risk rot as much as actual greenery. P03 strung out a high-pitched note and a few other blips, a grin replacing its features as it happily continued its inspection. "Ugh. You're a sap."
Melodious laughter rang then throughout the clearing, leaves accompanying a cool gust. His fingertips brushing past metal arm and curling loosely by the upper section below the bolted joint, the druid would gently pull it towards his side without feeling resistance.
The two moved to a different location that was past the bridge to the cabin.
Leshy had maintained this area himself, the fauna made absent by his word. A quaint grove speckled in wildly colorful flowers, towering old oaks shadowing the expanse in splotches. The stony lake at its center reflected a bright dusky blue sky and sparse-wispy clouds. A bench of braided and entwined branches was set a few feet away within a humble pergola, long overtaken by vinery and climbing roses.
This was not the first time he had brought someone here nor the last. All the other Scrybes had intended to visit again together at a later date.
The deity guided it to the left of the bench so that its crank could extend comfortably over the arm. P03 decided to keep hovering an inch above the seating, so as to not dirty its locomotive component. Leshy understood this and did not mind. He took his spot beside it without once having removed his hand, sitting straight and tall.
P03 recorded the surroundings quietly and could feel his patient gaze lingering on it. It was awkward. Didn’t he have other things to look at, or was it that great to look at? (Of course, it knew that he simply had seen the sight many times enough already.)
"I take it you must know, then.” He pressed his face into the corner of its head console, fingers that had been around its limb now lowering down and across so that he could rest his long arm around its frame.
A long, strained huff, heat escaping its vents. P03 took a moment before turning its head towards him, lying the wood carving on its side next to it. Thoughtful ellipsis. "Of course."
His laugh shook its chassis this time. He knew it was not fond of being embraced fully; Leshy gently knocked his head against the upper side of its own.
"I love you," so he said easily.
How simple.
"Yep…" It twitched-looked away this time, feeling foolish from the way its systems considered its embarrassment as an anomalous error. "...love you too.”
Now see that? It can say things like that too, even when the sound of its fans started to drown out the ambiance of nature with their proximity. It wouldn’t do it again, not today, but it didn’t really have to for him to know it meant it.
And P03 reached out, holding his hand first this time. Leshy squeezed slowly, warmlyーthough not as warm as its metal, which had grown hotter due to the sun and not because of something as small as exchanging words.
With a small tug and a few clicks, P03 would lag. Stall, when Leshy met its gaze curiously, giving his full attention. He did not push it. His eyes softened at its gentle hesitation.
It levitated away from the bench, his touch never leaving it. The automaton overclocked itself with purpose and leaned its monitor close to its face, discharging a small burst of static electricity that would continue to echo and tickle across his face even after it drew back afterwards. Its frown burned a stronger glow, fans much louder, and the last of its static being left in his hand.
Leshy’s eyes curved into crescents as he closed the distance himself this time. He rested covered lips on the top-rim of its tilted face, doing his best not to let any part of him scratch its screen. Stayed. Parted, to nudge that same spot with a small part of his forehead, and then leaned back to find what could be considered a lost expression. Digital blush and narrowed eyes, a smile unlike one of its smug taunts seemingly plastered onto it.
Even if it could retrieve a retort at this time, it kept it at bay.
P03 hovered back down and, instead of returning to the seat, found it comfortable to keep itself there before his chest, his arm still around it and the other hand drumming against its clamp.
They would be there for some time longer.
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skullzy20 · 9 months
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Minecraft looking ass
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inkskinned · 11 months
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so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.
i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.
i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."
i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."
i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"
he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."
i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.
"oh," he says.
"yeah, man."
"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.
"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."
"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."
the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.
"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."
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manchesterau · 5 months
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*curtsies cutely*
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lilybug-02 · 4 months
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Any more random Soul or other such Lore you’d like to share with us that you’ve come up with but can’t fit in the comic anywhere?
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GET READY TO READ. Chara Timeline Lore!!!
Also take all of this as soft cannon. Most, if not all, will not be showing up in the comic (or at least in this amount of detail). And the comic does not need this information to make sense.
These book entries are from an in-universe source.
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I hope you enjoyed the world building :> Again this is mostly all for fun!
4th Wall Break Time! - Humans are completely oblivious to the fact “soul entities” are humans themselves. Their little heads would probably pop if they truly knew. So don’t tell them! - Monsters are still made of dust in my AU, but they are more physical than their Undertale counterparts, only slightly… - Both Humans and Monsters cannot do magic freely. They would need to go through extensive training to get…a Wizard license! :O - It’s strange, but the Monsters seem more human than the actual humans in this world…huh…
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