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#this is terrible XD
tiramegtoons · 2 years
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letsmcfreackingloseit · 5 months
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So yes I have OF COURSE read @naffeclipse new fic Apex Polarity and yes, I AM OBSESSED!
So I decided to make a little comic of how I think their "first encounter" might have looked like from Eclipse's perspective.
I can't help but think about how alien and scary we most look to him (especially if there is a history of fasco hunting polar sirens in the past). With all that gear we look like emotionless beings, just observing and uncaring of this ice world. But then when y/n shows up and probably exudes this joy and wonder for his world + shows respect for the creatures and the environment??? Mmh yeah, I can see Eclipse falling for y/n, especially considering how alone he might be...
So yes, that's what I have for today! If you want to read the fic I'll link it right here. I can't recommend it enough, but as always, read the tags so you know what you're getting into! And lastly I also want to @themeeplord beacuse Eclipse's design is basically their design in my style (god I love their design so much, their character/creature designs are the BEST) so all the credit goes to them! Polar!Y/N is my design thou! ;P
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go read the two latest chapters-
YIPPEE!!!
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triaelf9 · 6 months
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My humble contribution to the Locked Tomb fandom: 0% yoplait and beefalo for your consideration XD
Just a small version of the twins from my supporter wallpaper this month, so if you want the whole thing in larger versions, you know where to go! ^_^
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factual-fantasy · 2 months
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I GOT THE SWORDDD!!!!!
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Also christ its taller than ME!
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omaano · 7 months
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I've learned how to do lineart, and the colour green no longer terrifies me so I'll only take another half a year to figure out how to shade this drawing for Mereel & Family Booksellers chapter 2 by @sidhebeingbrand and @toughbreaks :D
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finniigan-fr · 3 months
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Modelled a little forge for my blacksmith Pearlcatcher, Ember :3
Yes, he has a wooden workbench and a barrel full of coal next to an open flame,, his ass is NOT sornieth osha compliant!
also i may have forgot his pearl and whiskers uhhh just pretend he left the pearl inside and he burnt his whiskers off when he leaned over the fire one time (again... he is not operating a safe business by any means)
plus some wip pics if youre into that sort of thing
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and heres what hes gonna look like once i gene him up! still need to save up for a trans scroll and all the genes lol
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alexis-royce · 5 months
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Testing out Hippo Noto x Kiwi Midnight Anemone ink in a Sailor Fude pen on Tomoe River paper. There are a lot of blue-red sheening inks that would make for a solid violant, but this is my favorite combo so far. In person, you really can’t tell what color it is, and the contrast slaps you in the face! The drying time is an eternity, though.
Anyway, I was paying close attention to the responses to last night’s post. Time to forge handwriting correspond with the colleagues!
@the-dye-stained-socialite :
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@thedeafprophet :
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@writ-in-violant
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@the-ashenstreaked-doctor :
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@arieacrowflondon :
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@peligin-eyed :
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@violant-apologia :
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@esteemed-excellency :
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breadmecoshy · 4 months
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Evil art style challenge!!!!
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I started playing Hades the other day, so I experimented on Zagreus, I love this boy more than life
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I tried to take into account all your words! Thank you very much for the response, I was afraid that no one would write anything at all XD
In fact, it was terribly long to draw it, terribly boring, and the result is too bland
The funny thing is that I've been painting in an evil style for a while in the past.... In general, I stopped drawing in this style, because the drawings eventually seemed dead to me XD. And the line kills all the vividness of the sketch and the rush of inspiration while you're messing with it for a few hours uffffffff
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owlyflufff · 3 months
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haikyu's dumpster batte is only going to be around 1 hour and 24 minutes, oh it's genuinely bokuakaover
#knowing that we're likely not going to get an ova too is painful <//3#m sorry to go off on a bit of a tangent#but I can't help but feel bitter that an actually good series with coherence and amazing characters just gets treated like this#and series like jjk and demon slayer get to have such good adaptations?#I don't hate both series btw as I watch them myself but even I have more criticisms in their story and charas compared to hq#jjk at this rate is being carried by satosugu shippers and popularity the story honestly is slowly losing substance :'DD#and it's disappointing such a series manages to get to have a consistent adaptation vs a good and inspiring story#which is why I can't help but feel <//3 whenever ppl rant about the jjk animation cause it's better than the hq treatment TvT#don't get me started on demon slayer I have mixed feelings about that series as well but I love it for what it's worth xD#and if people say the hq fandom is being bitter or biased isn't it justifiable?#a consistent and amazing narrative gets butchered me thinks people have a right to feel the way they do#naturally the fandom is not downplaying the efforts of the animators and voice actors but we also have a right to feel the way we do#we feel the way we do out of genuine love for a series that inspired and helped us so much#it's just so unfair TvT#m terribly sorry again for ranting and dropping negativity but I feel really disheartened about this news#and not simply cause ofc we won't get the bokuaka match#but also because my favorite series doesn't deserve this#eli rambles#bokuaka#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu!!#hq
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drama-glob · 13 days
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This is probably one of, if not my favorite, "Darn it" from Globby. He just couldn't catch a break that day. ;) XD
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cuubism · 1 year
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No questions. I'm just attempting to kill a man or two by pulling this out of my sleeve >:)
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hoooooolllly fucking shit, mayhem you absolute madlad
i don't even know what to say about this. i'm stunned into silence. i'm shook. i'm just staring at it. this is so much to cope with on a tuesday afternoon
@magnusbae come get yeeted off a cliff
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triaelf9 · 4 days
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Look, some ppl read The Magician's Nephew and saw a battle between good and evil. Some of us read it and saw what the author was saying, but also saw very tall evil lady commanding the people around her and it awakened something in them XD
And then rediscovered whatever that was when Lady Dimitrescu stepped on to screen some 25 years later
tldr oh nooo tall evil fictional lady step on me oops uh oh XD
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 6 months
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annoyed
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asherdian-zhane · 6 months
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idol! Dust sans
Cz yes....
•Design by safwunz
•Idol au by zucchiyeni
Fan art
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secretmellowblog · 8 months
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I’ve read Les Mis a couple times now and I’m always blown away by just how kind Valjean is. Like every time I reread it I’m a little more impressed by the fact that he manages to be a good caring dude even while carrying around his metric ass-ton of troubles.
Yeah, it’s so good! And so complicated too? Idk the more I reread Les Mis, the more I enjoy the way it dives into “the politics of politeness,” the difference between being kind and being polite…and the way people like Jean Valjean are violently forced to behave in excessively ‘polite’ meek conciliatory ways in order to escape abuse.
And again, that’s something that really strikes me about Valjean’s story, and his complicated brand of kindness, in particular?
He’s genuinely a kind compassionate person; but, because of his status as a convict, he’s also forced to be excessively conciliatory to people like police officers who have authority over him, out of fear of punishment and torture. Especially before he earned his money, he had a social obligation to cringe and fawn before authority figures, to prevent them from hurting him. He’s gentle to people out of genuine love and sympathy, but he’s also often forced to be polite out of fear. And while he is a genuinely a sweet gentle compassionate person, you’re often forced to wonder: would Valjean behave with such excessive meekness if he wasn’t living in a state of paranoia and terror where a single ‘wrong move’ could make him suspicious, and lead to his imprisonment, torture, and death?
The lines between Valjean’s genuine kindness and the forced mask of politeness that’s been violently imposed on him can get really blurred.
And it’s telling that some of Valjean’s actually kindest moments are the times when he risks arrest and has himself branded a criminal, in order to save people- the moments where he sacrifices the approval of ‘polite society’ to do something genuinely compassionate.
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ghostinthegallery · 3 months
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“This isn’t the end” for Tarzyn/Orikan (bonus points for necrontyr era)
Next prompt request! CW for discussion of cancer/oncological stuff.
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The ink pot shattered when it hit the floor, spilling a pool of black across the stone tiles. Trazyn cursed, began reaching down to pick up the ceramic remains, but his long sleeve caught the edge of the paper on which he had been writing. That fell too, landing in the dark puddle. Ink saturated the page, erasing hours of calligraphic work.
”Damn it,” Trazyn swore. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
Most of his blasphemy was not towards the ruined page, although that was frustrating. No, primarily he cursed at his hand which refused to stop shaking. 
“It will only get worse, I am afraid,” the oncomancer had said. “Motor function will fail first.”
First, which implied something else had to fail second. Trazyn tried to forget the whole conversation as he grabbed a rag to clean his mess. It was well past midnight, so he could not summon a servant to deal with this. He had come to the palace’s library this late specifically for privacy. So that no one would see the difficulty he had holding a pen or a brush. He wanted to be able to take his time, wait out the tremors and maybe finish some of his work before he—
“Having some difficulty, old man?”
Trazyn’s heart sank. Of course if anyone had to see him like this, hunched on his knees, turquoise robes stained with black splotches it would be him.
”Orikan.” Trazyn sat up, tucked his hand into his sleeve to hide its quivering. “You’re up awfully late. Are the stars going to tell you about the weather next decan? Or perhaps some scion has asked to pick out their most auspicious marriage prospect? I hear you’ve become quite an adept matchmaker lately.”
Orikan’s brow wrinkled in annoyance, disturbing the single eye tattooed across his forehead. There were other such marks, cryptek nonsense, scrawled like tears down his cheeks, around his neck, and along his arms. Those were the only ones Trazyn had seen, though he imagined there were more, hidden under the white and blue robes draped loosely over Orikan’s frame.
”You lords are a petty sort,” Orikan said. “That I am forced to indulge you is a trial, but one well worth it given the benefits to my actual work. And at least I am not stuck copying old poetry like some temple scribe.”
Normally, Trazyn would have come up with some retort. Pointed out that he was in fact reproducing the last illustrated copy of the The Book of Sixes, the earliest recorded example of necrontyr poetry written in hexameter. And Orikan would have rolled his eyes and they would have argued until some other scholar came and shushed them, but tonight Trazyn could hardly summon the will to speak at all. 
“Perhaps it is a waste of time,” he said, looking at the ink-soaked page. “When one doesn’t even know how much time is left.”
“I see old age has made you melancholy,” Orikan scoffed.
Trazyn did not feel as if he had been alive enough to be called old. Just a handful of decades. How could that be considered old? The Old Ones, damn them, had lived millennia and more. They were old. Not him. 
He had outlived so many of his contemporaries and still it was not enough. 
“You will no doubt be thrilled to hear that barring unexpected circumstances you will be the victor in our rivalry,” Trazyn said. “I will not be able to defend myself from the tomb.”
“Stop raving.” Orikan walked past the shelves of datascrolls and paper manuscripts to stand over him. “I always did suspect the sun was taking your wits.”
”Not my wits just yet.” Trazyn lifted his hand and let the silk fall away to reveal his trembling fingers. 
Orikan’s eyes went wide. “What is this?”
“They say the sun attacks the limbs of the worker, the heart of the warrior, and the brain of a scholar..” Trazyn let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “The oncomancers say the larger turmor is growing against the nerve center governing voluntary muscle function. That will go first. Once I can barely move, my memory will likely desert me next, then speech, and then—”
“Stop.”
To Trazyn’s shock, Orikan dropped to his knees. He seized Trazyn’s quivering hand, tightening his grip until it was almost painful. Dark ink soaked the diviner’s white robe.
“Coward,” Orikan hissed. “You think you can escape our conflict so easily? A martyr, taken in his prime by sunsickness. How convenient for you.”
Despair shifted into anger. “I did not develop a brain tumor to spite you, astromancer,” Trazyn snapped. “Nor can I will it away.” His breath hitched. “I am going to die. I am going to die soon, with so much left unfinished.”
“You are not going to die.” Orikan leaned forward, dropped his voice so low Trazyn struggled to hear him. 
“Is that what the stars tell you?” Trazyn said. “I fear they’ve deceived you.”
“You are not going to die,” Orikan repeated. “None of us are.”
The scent of perfumed incense filled Trazyn’s nose. Orikan always smelled of incense and clean night air. It was one of the most irritating things about him. He was uncouth, uncultured, abrasive, spiteful. And brilliant. Tenacious. Beautiful. Half of the time Trazyn wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle him or—
“Orikan—” Trazyn began.
Orikan grabbed the beaded front of Trazyn’s robe and yanked him forward. Their lips crashed together. The kiss took him off guard, but he did not pull away, even as the force of it pressed painfully against his teeth. The warmth of Orikan’s mouth, the taste of him, drove out all other thoughts. For a brief second he forgot anger and despair and death.
”What do you mean,” he muttered against Orikan’s lips. “None of us will die?”
”The Silent King has a plan,” Orikan replied, wrapping his hand around Trazyn’s neck, deepening the next kiss. “He has found the power to take the secrets of immortality denied to us. He has asked me to read the plan’s future, but he is sure it will work. And when it does…” Orikan looked into Trazyn’s eyes, his gaze piercing and green. “This isn’t the end. Don’t you dare leave me or let that damned tumor take you because this is not the end.”
“Why Orikan,” Trazyn said. “I didn’t realize you cared.”
“I care about proving once and for all that you are a vainglorious fool.” Orikan huffed. “I cannot do that if you retreat into death.”
Trazyn pressed his hand against Orikan’s cheek, drew him back into another kiss. More gentle this time. 
“I’d best survive until then,” Trazyn said.
His knees hurt from being forced against the stone floor, but Trazyn did not care. There was always a little pain when it came to Orikan. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself without it.
It seemed too good to be true. An end to death, to suffering, all the time Trazyn could ever want. Alongside a rival who would ensure not a single moment of immortality was dull. He was not sure he believed it. Coming from anyone else he would have considered it madness. But this was Orikan. The stargazer was a fool in many ways, but in this moment, Trazyn believed him.
For the first time in years, Trazyn felt true hope. This would not be the end. Not of him. Not of his work. Not of the necrontyr. 
And, as Orikan dragged him up from the floor with a strength that belied his slender frame, Trazyn realized this was not the end of their night together either.
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