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#hunter: excuse?
panther-os · 1 year
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okay regardless of any possible relationships with the batch, phee and hondo definitely know each other carnally
probably they were young lovers and then too career-focused (piracy and treasure-hunting) for a committed relationship and too intense at each other for cohabitation but they're best fucking friends and whenever they meet they drink and hook up and gossip and it's like they've never been apart
there's been a couple times they've been after the same thing and they take turns "betraying" each other it's always a big thing and hondo's gang always has space popcorn ready. they're both theater kids at heart, but hondo's the more dramatic actor while phee's more subtle, but there's always plenty of banter and an inevitable witty one-liner as they sail away with the treasure. one time there was a duel with actual swords
and I'm not saying there's a weequay/human ohnaka/genoa kid/teen out there either adopted by some suburban family who has no idea what to do with this chaos child but fully supports them or taken under hondo's metaphorical wing as his loyal miniature second in command who is absolutely not allowed in any sort of dangerous situation until they're truly and properly an adult what does he look like a criminal? but I'm not not saying that either
kinda really want hondo to show up in tbb and kinda really want to see him interact with phee now
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solifelessblog · 6 months
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Family cringe together <3
Please reblog, don’t repost :)
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youabsolutewalnut · 1 month
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Idk how many RoosterTeeth fans are on Tumblr, but watching the final livestream rn I'm getting so emotional. This company is what got me into video games, got me interested in the entertainment business, was the catalyst for my brother and I connecting as teens, helped me make friends in college, and made me into (I would like to think) a compassionate adult. Most importantly, I can now spell achievement correctly... most of the time.
I know they've had their rough patches, but there are so many wonderful creative people at RT who I wish the best in their future projects <3
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nanodelta · 2 months
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when the hunters become the hunted
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pincushionx · 3 months
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Toh where everything is the same except Hunter is a lil British shit
Idk the idea of Belos accent passing onto Hunter is really funny to me
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b0ngwaterwizard · 1 year
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valentines 💚💛
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ranaeley · 8 months
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A fancy boyo
[Image ID: A drawing of Hunter from The Owl House. He stands, smiling, with one foot crossed behind the other, and he holds Waffles in staff form.
He wears a maroon collared shirt, with brown and gold Victorian suspenders. There is a similarly colored brown witch hat on his head, with maroon lining and a maroon ribbon wrapped around the base of the hat’s crown. Two feathers are tucked into the ribbon, one red and one blue. He has checkered brown pants and a pair of greyish-brown boots.
The background of the image is pale purple, with a few maroon feathers floating in the air around Hunter. The second two images are closeups of Hunter and Waffles. End ID]
Part 1 of my witch outfit series!
Part 2
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dindjarindiaries · 1 month
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These men??? POTENTIALLY COEXISTING?!?!?! excuse me for a moment
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starrspice · 2 months
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Some things never change
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kaiserouo · 3 months
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if timeline reflections are simulations how fast would cayde notice that
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anglerflsh · 2 years
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To season three
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snarkspawn · 1 year
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long time no swtor! hi
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nerdykorgi · 2 months
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sry it took me so long to make just these, i went on vacation lol
Im just gonna ease into it and not show all of them at once, one because it would take a while and two i want to show my favorite ones some love.
but rq! CW: BLOOD AND DEATH
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Calisto! One of my first grim ocs! He was made to be that one grim from hollow mind.
He's very artistic and creative and overall optimistic (atleast he tries to be). He loves writing and drawing, he designed the symbols for the 9 covens.
He was blinded before he was killed and unfortunatly carried that into the afterlife. He's really close to Caleb and they try to "keep the peace" if you will amoung the other grims and make sure it dosent divulge into chaos.
He wants to take care of his predeccsor/brothers and tries his best to learn how to write again so he can make a list of everyone, he wants to make sure no one is forgotten or ignored.
He's a silly guy <3
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THE BABY!!!
Hunter may have been the youngest grimwalker made a golden guard but he wasn't the youngest one ever made.
Fletcher was one of Belos's attempts to make a grimwalker that was easy to manipulate but he wasn't quite ready for the tasks of taking care of a toddler.
That and said toddler eerily reminded him of a certain red-haired witch. (or more-or-less Cal & Eve's kid, give or take)
but in death, he very much looks up to his guard brothers and wants to be as cool as them. He's a very huggable kid and makes it his personal mission to hug all of the guards who need it.
I love them, my bois
(*exaggerated sigh* sorry for slow updates, life prohibits me from drawing 24/7. I feel like I apologize alot but i genuinly feel bad for not being able to post so quickly :") )
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redwinterroses · 4 months
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There’s a cherry tree in the middle of the redwood forest.
False isn’t sure what to make of that. She shifts her grip on the staff in her hand, its pale glow reflecting faintly off the fresh snow. She’s come out here for resources—the vault altar is demanding logs, and these giant trees are an easy source—but the incongruous sight of an enormous, blossoming cherry tree sending pink petals wafting on the frozen wind…
She wonders if this is what fish feel like, when they see a lure.
“Hello?” she calls, her voice echoing off the trees. The world stands in permanent semi-twilight here, and the deeper shadows hide the mobs that will venture out come nightfall. A sneak of creepers is bedded down in a sweetberry bramble just on the other side of the clearing, and False tenses when the lead boar lifts his head, but he apparently doesn’t deem her worth stalking so early in the day. 
There is no other reaction to her call.
False is of half a mind just to head back home and farm her own dang trees. It’s not like the vaultar is picky about the kinds of logs—she could just as easily grow up a bunch of birch and throw those in there. But that will take so much longer… not to mention she’s not sure if there are even enough saplings in her storage.
She unhooks her enchantment-glittered axe from her belt and pauses to mentally poke at her mana reserves. Plenty high. Whatever’s lingering near this tree, it can hardly be worse than what she deals with on the daily in the vaults. Overworld dangers are barely a challenge anymore.
The logic of that doesn’t change the uneasy feeling that buzzes over her skin though. 
Venturing further into the clearing. False’s gaze traces up the trunk of the cherry tree, following its branches to where they terminate in lush bursts of pink and white blooms. A sweet smell drifts on the wind. She wrinkles her nose, reminded of compost piles and fermented spiders’ eyes. 
The tree’s branches stretch long and low—a canopy of their own, heavy with flowers and dark, glossy leaves. The space underneath is filled with falling flowers and a fog of pollen, the air moisture-thick like a lush cave.
Lifting one hand, False catches a falling petal on her fingertip.
It sizzles as it touches her skin, stinging and buzzing like live redstone.
She hisses through her teeth, shaking her hand and letting the petal fall to the forest floor. “What the heck?”
Another petal tumbles past her face, and she watches it with narrowed eyes—right until it fizzles out of existence a few pixels above the forest floor.
“Glitch,” she mutters. “That’s… not good.”
Iskall needs to know about this—it could be a bug from one of the new updates, or it could be something deeper in the code, but either way: this glitched tree is a problem. She’s probably lucky it just stung her.
She reaches for her communicator, raising it to take a pic of the cherry tree.
“Oh, hi there, False!”
False yelps, spinning around with her axe ready to swing.
Gem is standing behind her, a wreath of cherry blossoms tangled in her hair and antlers, leaning casually on a tall staff of blooming cherry wood. Her smile is wide, and sap flows over her fingers, pale golden, dripping down her arms to leave dark spots on the faded denim of her overalls.
“Gem!” False lowers her axe. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. I didn’t know you were doing Vault Hunters.”
“Hm?” Gem raises one eyebrow, and for a moment her eyes flicker to red and then purple before settling back on green. “Oh—I’m not doing Vault Hunters, False.” Her voice is amused, almost chiding.
“Oh.” False feels unexpectedly small—which is impressive, considering she’s nearly half a block taller than Gem. 
More of the glitched petals fall, resting on Gem’s hair and slowly melting into it like snowflakes. The brief moment of relief when False had seen Gem’s familiar grin is fading into something like the sensation of freefall. 
“What’cha up to?” Gem asks, and her face blinks from one expression to the next like a bad video message. Her clothes are blue—no, green—no, bloodstained and grey—no, blue. They’ve always been blue.
False takes a step back.
“Uh, not much…” she glances up at the redwoods. “Just doing some… resource gathering. You know.”
“Cool!” Gem giggles, and stands up straight. False tenses, but Gem only spins around her staff and waves a hand at the glitched tree. “I didn’t realize this was an occupied server—are there many people here?”
There’s a buzzing in False’s skull, and she blinks rapidly. A muscle twitches under her eye. 
“Um…”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Gem lifts one hand and grabs one of the lowest branches of the cherry tree. She really should not have been able to reach that.
Swinging herself up with the lithe, effortless strength of a cat, she perches on the limb and stares down at False. The grin is gone from her face now, and she looks down at False with bright eyes.
“Etho’s not here, is he?”
False opens her mouth to answer, the words yes, of course he is, I can take you to him heavy on her lips… And with effort, she swallows them back. 
They taste of sweet rot.
“Why... why doesn’t what matter?” she asks instead.
Gem stares at her for a long moment, expressionless. The flowers woven through her antlers are growing of their own accord, twining up to caress their brethren in the branches overhead. 
Then she smiles broadly, flashing teeth that nearly glow white in the dappled shadows. “Oh!” she exclaims. “No reason! I’m only passing through, is all.”
“You’re not… you’re not sticking around?” False tries—and mostly fails—to sound disappointed.
“Naaaaah…” Gem stands and walks along the branch, as secure and balanced as if it were a stone floor. The flowers in her hair flow along behind her, sliding from the branches and falling like a cape down her back. “Worldhopping is easy. Staying in one spot is way harder.” 
False watches the flowers move and swirl, their smooth, strange motion ensnaring her attention. The buzzing is back, too. Like bees, drunk on honey and sleepy in their hive.
“World hopping…?” she manages. “With admin commands?”
Gem’s laugh is as brilliant as a knife and as sharp as a spark. “False!” she crows. “You say the funniest things.”
False laughs. It seems appropriate. She isn’t sure why.
“Anyway,” Gem continues, fading into one patch of blossoms and reappearing on the other side of it. Her eyes are sprays of cherry flowers now. Her antlers are branches. “Anyway, cherry trees are all the same. They make it easy to get around.”
“That…” doesn’t make sense, False wants to say. But her lips are heavy, and coated in sticky sap. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.
“Oops! Behind you, False!” 
Gem’s chirped warning is flaked in glee, and False turns around, as slow as if her feet are buried in soul sand.
The creepers she had seen—the entire sneak—are standing behind her, pink flowers blooming from their eyes. 
“Oh no.”
The boar’s blinded head snaps toward her voice, hissing. He starts to aggro, bioluminescent streaks flashing from his snout to flanks in increasingly-swift pulses of light.
“See ya in season ten, False!” Gem cries out cheerfully.
The axe drops from False’s nerveless fingers, trailing strings of sap. She smells the inescapable stench of burning gunpowder, overlaid with rot.
“...Dangit.”
[FalseSymmetry was blown up by a creeper]
~*~
Jerking upright in her own bed, False swipes wildly at her face, trying to smear away tree sap that isn’t there. 
“What the heck, Gem?” she exclaims at her empty base. Her voice falls flat, swallowed up by the sky that surrounds her builds. The clock above her head ticks impatiently, and she huffs in frustration, pushing up out of her bed. All her tools, gone—her levels, gone... and after all that she still needs those logs for the vault. 
Grumbling, she starts pulling backup gear from various chests, trying to cobble together something that can get her back to the redwood grove before her items despawn—assuming they hadn’t all been obliterated by a second or third creeper explosion. She glances at the vaulter, and freezes.
It’s been completed. The crystal floats gently atop the stone pedestal, gleaming with an inner light. 
And, tumbled at the base of the vaulter—abandoned, more than was needed to fill the crystal’s requirements:
Half a stack of cherry logs.
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littlegeecko · 3 months
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a very spotty little otter. . .
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