#dwarf art exchange

[sboochi]

Little Mermaid inspired AU!

Drawing fish people is fun :)

#it contradicts what I drew but I was thinking snow would make a deal with the sea witch (regina) #and she gets a pair of legs to search for her father on the surface #but in exchange she must make someone genuinely fall in love with her #regina curses her to also become skinnier so that's a bit of a problem when everybody is so fixated on her body and not her personality #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #my art

[imarvelatthestars]

Built to Fall

a submission for the 2024 clone bingo event hosted by @karttaylir-darasuum , as well as the bad batch @cloneficgiftexchange - my gift to @221bshrlocked !!!

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Content: tbb s3 happy-ish ending AU (our s2 survivors + Crosshair live happily ever after on Pabu), mutual pining, some angst; title inspired by "Mind Over Matter" by Young the Giant

“You’re getting better. You might end up better than me one day.”

Omega’s nose crinkles playfully. “I’m not sure Tech would call that a good use of my skillset.”

“Well, Tech’s not here. Arts and crafts are way more fun than ship schematics anyway.”

“You’ve got that right,” she says, and you think she sounds just like her brothers.

She’s a smart kid, probably the smartest kid you’ve ever met, so she catches on to new things fast. Her fingers are agile and quick, and her mind is always running. How she hasn’t outsmarted the entire island by now is a mystery to you.

Today’s lesson, if you can call spending time with the sweetest and funniest soul in the galaxy a lesson, is learning how to string kukui nuts and shells into a necklace. There are plenty others who have mastered this art, who craft elegant strands of nuts and shells that look more like art than mere jewelry, and Omega is definitely better at it than you are, but it makes you smile, gives you something to do when your hands are restless and your mind is prone to wonder. And it helps that you can barter with your nicer pieces.

The waves roll gently up and down the shore, bubbling over the rocks and soaking the sand that’s crumpled up by your feet. There aren’t many seashells left, which means you’ll have to go hunting for more soon. You’re just about to suggest it when an embarrassingly loud grumble comes from deep in your belly. You freeze; Omega’s bright, attentive eyes flicker to you, and you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

That’s how he finds you – lounging in the sand, your leggings rolled up to your knees, and cackling like a goblin.

“Having fun?”

Hunter’s shadow falls lengthwise over you. He’s placed his hands on his hips in a poor imitation of a scolding father, but his faux seriousness is entirely marred by the smile he doesn’t bother to hide.

Omega grins. “More fun than you are!”

“Now that I believe.” He steps around you so he can crouch in the space between you both and your heart very much doesn’t jump at the new proximity. Definitely not. “What’s all this?”

“We’re making necklaces. See?” Her latest creation is promptly displayed on her splayed fingers.

He takes a moment to study it. The shells are tiny already, but they’re even smaller in his hand, dwarfed by the length and breadth of his thumb and forefinger. You’re not sure why you notice that out of everything. It’s a silly thing to notice.

“You did this all on your own?” he marvels.

“Well...” Omega looks to you with a hint of shyness. “I had a little help.”

She's far too modest. “Very little,” you correct. “I just showed her how.” One of your baskets is quickly exchanged for Omega’s necklace, much to Hunter’s surprise. It is, after all, half full of stranded shells and nuts. “She’s a natural.”

Hunter’s brows shoot so high up his face until you’re half afraid they’ll jump right off. He looks to Omega, then you, then back to her. “You made all of these?”

For a moment it seems she’s not sure how to respond. She scratches awkwardly at the back of her neck for a bit, hesitant, even flustered, before finally nodding. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

“Omega,” her brother sighs, and it’s all tender and proud, the way a father should be. Something warm alights in your heart at the sight. “These are wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiles, and so does she, and that secret desire you pretend not to have, the one that delights at his nearness and the gentle affection he bestows so generously to his siblings, the softness hiding beneath his battle-hardened exterior, explodes inside your chest like a blossom finally unfurling.

“I hate to pull you away,” he continues after a moment, “but it’s time to eat.”

Omega groans but doesn’t protest beyond that. She’s quick on her feet, gathering up her things and haphazardly dropping them into the basket she then perches on her hip. You, on the other hand, are a bit slower than that. Pabu works many miracles, but it doesn’t make you any younger or faster, no matter how refreshing the sea air may be. Your own basket of seashells and kukui is organized and fastened shut, then your shoes gathered in your hand, and then – and then you find Hunter’s hand extended to you.

You brush off your shock as quickly as you can, hoping it doesn’t linger, that it isn’t noticeable, and take the offer with a smile that matches his own. The contact is brief, far too short for your liking, but it quickens your pulse enough that you fear your heart will catapult from the cavity of your chest all because he looked at you, touched you, and it’s all you ever dream of.

His fingerprints still burn into your skin long after his hands have withdrawn. You almost wish they would scar if only to have a physical reminder of him when he’s gone.

“Thanks.”

He nods, and the sun shines golden on his face. There’s a wordless moment where he extends his hand to you again and you think he’ll take hold of you a second time, guide you off the beach like that, and you’re not even sure you’ll survive such a thing, but then you realize he’s asking for your basket. And you’re disappointed, but so, so relieved.

“That’s okay, I got i-”

His fingers curl around the basket handle, gentle but firm. There’s no room for discussion, not as he tugs it free and settles it under his own arm, not as he tells you in everything but words that he will carry this thing for you, he will carry anything you need, anything you want, and you never need to ask. You only wish that he would do it because he cares.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know.”

Hunter’s brow furrows, but you blink and it’s gone. “I know,” he says.

The walk from the beach to Shep’s house is relatively short, but it always flies by when you walk it with him. Perhaps because he makes you feel safe, secure, because he makes you smile when no one else can. Perhaps because you never want these moments to end. Perhaps because, if you’re really honest with yourself, you know that he fills the part of your heart that longs for more, no matter how uncertain you are if he would ever allow himself such a thing.

Dinner at Shep’s is never a simple affair, but it’s always happy. Good food, pleasant chatter, the sound of Omega, Wrecker, and Lyana’s laughter, Phee’s gently barbed remarks and Crosshair’s witty retorts, Batcher barking and huffing between gulps of food, and even the more serious conversations shared between Hunter and Shep tend to be more comforting than not. It’s home, plain and simple. It was never meant to be, not for you, but somehow… somehow that’s exactly what it’s become. He doesn’t know, at least you don’t think he does, but none of it would’ve happened without him, without that too-good heart of his beating fast and strong below his bones, that heart you wish you could call your own one day.

Funny how easy it is to be foolish, isn’t it?

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Shep’s followed you to the balcony where you’ve chosen to watch the last remnants of the sunset as the colors bleed into the clouds and the dark, stormy shroud of night begins to fall.

You tilt your head back, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of the starts through the clouds. “Sorry. Just had something on my mind, I guess.”

He nods, as if he understands, and you truly think he does. He’s a wise sort of man, kind and smart in a way that only experience can provide. “You know you can always speak your mind.” His forearms find the lip of the balcony the same way yours have. “If something’s bothering you-”

“It’s not you, Shep.” You don’t dare say what it is, but you almost wonder if he knows. “I have a little too much to think about sometimes, y’know?”

“I do,” he says, and he nods again. You think he’s about to say something else, but he’s stopped by the weight of a hand upon his elbow, the gentle intrusion of Hunter’s presence as he steps into the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He gestures to the expanse of clouds as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. Though for him, you suppose it is. “We’ve got bad weather incoming. Probably best for everyone to head home now.”

Shep agrees, and the others are quick to hurry back to their own hovels or to the Marauder, but Hunter walks you home. You both know he doesn’t need to. And, you think, you both know he’s only doing this because he feels duty-bound. It hurts, but you revel in his company all the same, just for these few moments.

“I should go,” he says once you’re both inside, dripping the beginnings of the storm onto the stone floor, but he seems loathe to admit it.

You both spare a glance out the window. The rain’s already coming down harder than it was just a minute ago. It’s pattering hard atop the roof and there’s enough force behind it that you’re almost afraid it’ll blow your windchimes clean off.

“Hunter, you’ll get soaked. At least stay until it’s eased up a bit.”

That’s the least you can do, isn’t it? After everything?

But rather than immediately accept the offer, Hunter grimaces. His entire body stills and starts to shift away from you, not a lot, not even in a way that might be noticeable to anyone else, but you know him, his tells, all the subtle ways his body responds to the world around him. You recognize immediately that he’s uncomfortable and that knowledge hits you right in the gut, sharper than a vibroblade.

He shakes his head, politely. “No, I, I should go. I’ll be fine.”

It’s the fact that he refuses to even look at you that does you in.

And you know you should let it pass. Really, you do. Take the blow and roll with the remaining punches the way he and his brothers do, but you’re not strong like they are, and your heart is so much more fragile than theirs.

You sigh. “Why d’you have to be like this?”

Impossibly dark eyes flicker in the muted lighting, landing somewhere near yours. “What?”

“If you don’t like me, Hunter, just say it. You don’t have to pretend, okay? That just makes it worse.”

His tattoo crinkles as his face shifts, each line of inkwork rippling until he’s frowning at you so intently that the weight of it feels enough to crush you. Then his head tilts and the coils of his hair fall over his eyes, and he’s so beautiful that you think you might cry.

“What are you talking about?”

Maker, is he really gonna make you say it?

A brief turn of your shoulder gives you the spare moments you need to compose yourself, and as you survey the tiny hovel you’ve turned into a home, you find yourself thinking again of that last night on Ord Mantell. The night you realized Tech was dead and Omega was gone, and you knew your life would never be the same again…

It’s a goddamn Imperial fleet. You’ve never seen so many ships at once before. They crowd the sky, faintly and briefly illuminated by streaks of lightning and the few pricks of light coming from the city as they descend. You don’t know why they’re here, but you don’t really need to. You know there’s only one thing on Ord Mantell precious enough to draw the Empire out here and it’s not any one of the petty criminals or their shady deals passed under the table and off the books.

If you had any of their comm channels, you’d be satisfied with asking if everything’s alright, if they need a place to stay. But you don’t. Instead, you run. It was a boring night off anyway.

The bar is trashed when you get there. Tables overturned, blaster marks scorched into the walls. Cid’s nowhere to be found and neither are the clones, and it leaves a terrible, sinking feeling in your gut. None of this is right.

Stumbling back outside, you see a handful of Imperial ships lifting off, one already shooting for the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Whatever they’d come for, they’d clearly found it, and Maker, you prayed it wasn’t any of them. Anyone, anything but them.

You come stumbling into the landing zone just as the boys come through the far end, already approaching their ship. Your throat is raw and your entire body hurts from being pushed far beyond its usual limit.

“What, what happened?” you gasp between desperate mouthfuls of air, hands clutching your knees as you double over. “The Empire-”

It’s then that Hunter comes swooping into your personal space, so close that he takes up every inch of it, totally filling your vision until the shadow of his tattoo and the dark glinting of his eyes is all you can see. There’s no time for your stomach to flip or your face to flush hot. There’s only time enough for him to grab you and push until your back hits solid durasteel. It’s cold, sharp, violent where it digs into your back, but no colder than the quiet rage you see carved into Hunter’s face now.

“You sold us out.”

You’re too confused to be offended. “What?”

His forearm finds your throat and presses until you’re properly pinned between him and whatever unyielding thing he’s backed you into, and when you look up at him, you find that you’re afraid of him for the first time in your life. He looks murderous.

“Hunt- Hunter! What are you talking abo-?”

“They took her.” He's clearly furious, but there’s a deceptive calm about him that rattles you to your bones. It’s not the calm and quiet demeanor of a battle-hardened soldier, but the cool and distant resolve of a man on the edge of desperation. “Because of your boss. Care t’ tell me why?”

You struggle to look over his shoulder to the others behind him. None of them have come to your aid, though Echo looks like he’s about to. And Wrecker... What the hell happened to put him in a neck brace? You look back to Hunter, seeking his face for something you’re not even sure you know how to name, only to find his body wrapped in bandages and his face bruised. Something’s not right, something more than just the Empire.

They took her. Took… who?

You glance at the others again. Wait. Where’s Tech? Where’s Omega?

His words pierce through your heart when they cycle round your head again.

They took her.

No.

Your boss.

She wouldn’t. She... she couldn’t. To them, maybe, but to Omega?

“Hunter,” you croak with a voice that cracks under the weight of your horror, “where’s Omega?”

Nostrils flaring, he presses harder into you until you actually choke, his teeth bared and gritted, flashing white against his skin. It’s the most monstrous you’ve ever seen him. “You tell me.”

You’ll kill her. If he lets you live, you’ll march yourself down to the parlor and kill Cid yourself. Doesn’t matter that you’ve never flared beyond the supernova of a rookie punch, you’ll level a blaster at her head. That is, if Hunter permits you to live past the next few minutes. You’re honestly not sure if he will. But then, if you’d kill for Omega, you don’t think you want to know what kinds of atrocities her brother would commit. Perhaps you’ll learn firsthand.

Echo stops him, but he cuts it concerningly close. Air rushes through your lungs so quickly that it hurts, and you find yourself wilting until your legs give out.

His voice wrapping around the syllables of your name is enough to bring you back to the present, to the cold, dismal reality of the disaster of a relationship your friendship has become. You look to the hand at your wrist, the long, calloused fingers and the scars that crisscross his knuckles, the swirling tattoos atop his bones that disappear beneath the cuff of his sleeve, then up to his shoulder, his chin, the flared base of his nose, and then to his eyes. You swear you dream of them every night.

“What is it?” he asks in that deep, rumbling timbre of his.

You’re so heartbroken that all you can do is smile. “What do you think?” Flashes of an offered hand, the lifting of a basket, the quirk of a smile when you crack a joke or the lifting of a brow when you manage to surprise him, the lingering of his gaze when the nights draw dark and your mind is dulled with sleep – they all filter through your thoughts in a single instant. “You don’t have to keep making it up to me. What happened on Ord Mantell is done, Hunter. I just…” You shouldn’t say it, you should keep it buried deep inside your heart and let the wound fester until you burst, but now that you’ve started you find you can’t stop. “I just wish you’d stop killing yourself trying to earn my forgiveness when I gave it to you a long time ago. Especially when I know you hate me.”

The storm rages on while you fall into silence. The wind whips and whistles against the windows, the rain pummels the ground, and all the while you wait for Hunter to finally admit what you’ve known to be true for the past year.

Instead, he loosens his grip until his hand falls away and you hear, rather than see, the dropping of his shoulders in the way he sounds utterly wrecked when he mutters, “Is that what you think?”

Your breath stalls in your chest. “Isn’t it true?”

“No,” he says too quickly. Like he’s lying, like he’s trying to cover his tracks.

“Hunter-”

“You really think that?”

“Fuck, of course I do!” You turn on him and gesture to the awkward, uncertain tilt of his body as if it were the most offensive sight you’d ever seen. “Look at you, you don’t even want to be near me! You act like I burn you half the time we touch. What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

If ever you’ve seen Hunter wish he could crawl into his skin and die, now would be it. All it does is further affirm what you’ve long suspected, and it kills you, the same way it’s been killing him to re-earn your favor. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like you’re not head over heels in love with him, despite how much he hates you, despite knowing he might have killed you once not so long ago. Despite everything, you love him. And he will never love you back.

You storm to the door and slap your hand against the controls. It hisses open as the sharp winds of the storm come bursting in. Half the house seems ready to blow away, but you don’t care.

“Get out.” Even though it’s the exact opposite of what you want. “Now.”

And because he hates you, he acquiesces. Head bowed low and his eyes cast to the floor, Hunter steps outside without so much as a farewell, and he takes your heart with him.

You’re not sure how much time passes between then and now. It could be a whole hour, or a few seconds of your heartbeat thundering inside your ears. Does it matter?

“I wish I’d never met you.” He’s almost certainly gone by now, but you find yourself wishing that he could hear you. You want him to hurt as much as you do now. “I wish I’d never fallen for your stupid face.” You rub the back of your hand over your eyes and nose, and it comes back wet with your grief. “Wish I’d never gone to Ord Mantell, and I wish I’d never fucking met you, and I wish, I wish…”

Say it, says the little voice in the back of your head. You’re too tired now to fight it.

“I wish I could’ve loved anyone but you.”

No one responds. There are no frantic confessions of mutual feelings, no gentle knocking at your door. Not that you’d expected there to be, but a part of you had hoped. No, Hunter’s gone and you’ve made a fool of yourself for no reason at all. You dread to think what tomorrow will bring in this storm’s wake, how the chaos will have torn your new home into tatters, how Hunter will watch you with the same distant, burning eyes that break your heart and stitch it back together all at once, how the island will feel as foreign as it did the night you first arrived. You’ve already started mourning the daily gathering’s at Shep’s, the way Wrecker makes you laugh and Phee tells her stories, and Hunter loves Omega like the daughter she almost is, and now it’s all gone, forever, and maybe, just maybe, you were lost to the depths of your heart that very first day that the Marauder touched down on Ord Mantell and the squad came into Cid’s. Maybe you were never meant for finer things like requited love and a place to belong to.

It’s this endless spiral of illogical conclusions and shattered dreams that Hunter returns to. You never hear the door open, nor the worsening of the storm, but you do hear the soft squeak of his boots on stone, the gently trembling exhale of his breath as he squats beside you. You turn as he comes to you, your face damp and snotty, and it’s embarrassing, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he takes your face in his hand like he was made to do it? His headband is soaked and his hair is dripping wet, the tight coils of his bangs now plastered to his skin.

“Don’t cry.”

You only cry harder, but this time Hunter pulls you to him. You let him. He’s soaked, just like you said he would be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with your head tucked beneath his chin and your shoulders shaking under his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

 “You left,” you sniffle.

One of his hands finds your neck. It’s cold, but the touch sparks tendrils of warmth down to your toes. This way, your head is tilted back and his is inclined toward you, almost as if…

“You asked me to.” His breath fans across your face, down your throat, dipping low like the path his eyes take as he assesses you. “I don’t hate you. I never have.”

You could fight him on it. You could, but you can’t find the words. You can’t find any words. You don’t know what to say. Kriff, you can barely think right now with the way he’s holding you, watching you, how completely he fills every one of your senses.

“I don’t… know how to do this. I’ve already hurt you before, I don’t- I can’t do that again.”

There’s a hesitancy there, though. You see it in his eyes, in the set of his bones, somehow managing to pull away from you while still staying so deeply entwined with you. He’s unsure all over again, perhaps even as unsure as you are.

“Hunter…” Your hand finds his face, unbidden but perfect all the same, and he leans into you. “I already forgave you. You don’t have to-”

“I heard you.”

He… Huh?

Frowning, you start to pull away as you blink through the confusion and the watery film along the bottom of your eyes. “What?”

He tightens his arms about you to draw you closer and while your pulse skyrockets, you’re not sure if it’s because you’re terrified that he’s so close or panicking because he’s just close enough. You can smell him, now – the faint tones of sweat and sea salt and the wine from dinner – and you swear it’s enough to capsize you. Hunter lowers his gaze, then his face, so, so close to yours that he’s the only thing you see. And you think, you hope, he’ll kiss you, but you’re afraid of what might happen if he does.

“I heard you,” he says again, softer this time. His brows have pressed together above his nose as he focuses upon the spot just below your own. “Cyare… All this time, I thought I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t know.” His nose bumps yours. “Cyare,” and you hope one day he tells you what it means, “can I?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. You only have to nod. “Yes,” you murmur, and that’s when he kisses you.

It’s a cautious thing, so hesitant and timid, but Maker it’s beautiful. Even if this is all he ever gives you, it would be enough to know that he tried, that you learned his taste and his touch when it felt like the world was crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” he says before trying again, more frantic, more eager as his mouth presses into yours.

“I forgive you,” you promise before burying your hands in his hair.

The next few moments are a flurry of adrenaline and kisses peppered on skin, the rustling of fabric and the creaking of the sofa when it takes your combined weight. Hunter seems to have found his confidence along the way, and you’ve found your courage, and it ends with his teeth at your lips, and your tongue at his throat, and confessions pouring from you the more he gives and the longer he takes.

“I couldn’t, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He nips at your jaw. “It’s always been you, Hunter. Always.” He kisses your cheek, then your brow, then the corner of your mouth, hands trailing across your hips and arms as he goes. “I love you. I’m sorry for everything, I just love you so mu-”

His kisses steal the tail end of your confession, drawing into his mouth to mingle with his own until you swear the two of you become one.

“’s alright, mesh’la, ‘s alright. I know.” The bump in his nose is a caress against your cheek as he nuzzles into you. “I feel the same.”

It’s not perfect, this thing between you, and it isn’t easy, but it was always worth fighting for. You were always meant to fall for Hunter, and he was always meant to fall for you. You hope you never stop falling. And he swears never to stop catching you.

prompt(s)/inspiration: “You’re always on my mind.” | “Why can’t you see that it’ll always be you?” + jewelry

taglist: @moodymisty @the-rain-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @kaminocasey @arandomnerdsblog578

#hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb x you #hunter #the bad batch #2024cbe #TBBE24

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a wattpad user solely because I write original stories and I was always too nervous to post on the ao3 site since I know it's more fanfic based. With the news of the whole wattpad purge I do not want to touch the app anymore and I've been slowly abandoning the place anyways so I was curious if ao3 even is an option for me to post my stories on the site or any other options?

I know there's an original work tag on ao3 but it just feels very daunting and almost 'wrong' since its fandom oriented

--

AO3 includes original work so it can host fandom-adjacent stuff. If you think your work counts, that's good enough.

So, for example, if it uses fanficcy tropes, it's intended for the same audience, it's not intended to be monetized, etc. People often use AO3 for weird porn that would get deleted elsewhere, original BL type content, original works that were part of a fandom gift exchange or zine or old archive, and that kind of thing.

In the past, queer stuff that wasn't specifically in a fandom was particularly likely to share hosting with fandom stuff just because it was hard to find places to host that kind of thing. And the audience for queer fanfic and queer original art had heavy overlap. But lots of kinds of content are on AO3 today.

AO3 isn't going to delete your work for not being fandomy enough if you claim it is. It's just a question of whether you think it belongs there.

--

If you'd prefer to keep the option to monetize open, the next question would be what kind of work you write. Different content does better different places. It's totally possible to just self publish on Amazon. There are many webnovel sites (though I hear most suck for authors).

If you write stereotypical Wattpad stuff that reads like standard het romance with a YA flair, that may be less popular on AO3 than some places. On the other hand, if you run afoul of any of Wattpad's content guidelines, that may be an issue on many sites, and AO3 may be just right.

I'd say, generally, if you want to sell your art for money, if you're good at beating the Wattpad algorithm and like the big audience that garners, or if your audience has limited overlap with fanfic types, I'd seek non-AO3 hosting.

If you want to quietly post not-for-profit art that might get read by people who also like fanfic, AO3 is probably the best option.

--

I mean, would you like to just use AO3? No one's going to stop you. If it's just diffidence that's the problem, you might as well do it.

A number of years ago, people had stronger feelings about allowing original work on AO3 because they were afraid it would swamp the archive. But by now, the site is so heavily used and big that this just doesn't seem like a serious concern. Original Work is one of the larger individual "fandom" tags, but it is dwarfed by the archive at large.

[scribbledghost]

reader introduces their yautja friend (they’re like an exchange student at least in mindset) to pole fishing (unlike the spear and net fishing they’re more accustomed to).

He's very committed to the whole thing once you try and frame it like a hunt to him.

Quiet, waiting for the prey to take your bait? Ultimate test of patience? He's got this.

And he wants to impress you.

(Also imagine with me if you will because it makes me giggle: big Yautja, crouched in a tiny boat with a fishing rod that his hands completely dwarf, with one of those wide-brimmed fishing hats on. Expression like >:( because he's concentrating hard.)

Listen, if you're the type to do catch-and-release fishing, I hate to break it to you. But he's eating that fish as soon as it comes out of the water.

After he shows it to you, anyway.

Truthfully, he catches on quick, and finds out that he rather enjoys it.

There's a certain art to it, like the art to any hunt. Patience is crucial, and there are certain skills to be learned associated with it.

May or may not make an attempt to get other yautja to take up the skill too. How well it goes over... varies greatly from yautja to yautja.

Probably ends up being a nice "no killing humans" compromise while the two of you are on Earth together.

He gets to have some semblance of a hunt, while you get to rest assured that he's not off committing Mass Human Murder somewhere.

Plus he comes back with a full belly, so even better.

#pls send more these are very fun!! #yautja x reader #predator #predator x reader #yautja #ghost scribbles

[alliebirb]

your revolutionshipping art my beloved <3

RAGGGGGGGGHH THIS WAS LOST IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG, THANK YOU SM!!!! DRAWING THEM IS MY FAVORITEE 💗💗💕💕💕💗🫂🫂

i offer you a new revo art in exchange: courtship gift

and bonus “my years of moving past an old crush to value having him as a close friend just combusted like a dwarf star”

#SAY IT WITH ME ​SHE FELL FIRST HE FELL HARDERRRRDR #anzu starts both crying and laughing at the same time and atem considers jumping out the nearest window #she ofc takes the flowers and gives him first smooch on the cheek #MISSION SUCCESS!!!!!!!! !!! THOUGH I THINK ATEM PASSED OUT #alliebirb art #anzu mazaki #atem #revolutionshipping #asks

[tbgblr2]

Vega and Altair's twins

This is a story I've written for a follower on here who is doing an art for story exchange, and wanted to remain anonymous. It's a story of the birth of the twins from their own characters, Vega (female) and Altair (male) - bit of a heads up, they had a previous miscarriage earlier before they successfully managed to bring this pregnancy to term, so it is mentioned in the story. Timezone is set before any modern conveniences. Hope you enjoy...

Vega groaned, a deep, sorrowful keening sound coming from her mouth as she felt the latest in a long series of contractions finally release her from it’s grip. She had been feeling them since this morning, and all through the day until finally at the arrival of dusk, she sent Altair out to do something useful rather than fussing over her.

Both of them knew that the process of getting the babies out of her will take a long time, especially with her first. Both of them had seen enough babies born between them to know it was quite often never a quick process. Both of them knew how everything was meant to happen – but when it was happening to you or your loved ones, that threw everything out of context.

As dusk settled in, and the day started to become cold, she sent out her husband to gather firewood to both heat the house, and boil water to sterilise their tools. Altair grumbled and protested, but of course, he knew that Vega had made the logical choice, and whilst he didn’t want to leave her side in this, her greatest time of need, he knew fine well that she was in the best place she could be right now, and – he admitted – the firewood stocks were getting very thin on the ground.

Vega wrapped a shawl around her as she hefted herself up off the rocking chair she had been seated in. Still very wary about removing her clothes, she had used the excuse that she would need to keep warm until the very end of her labour to conserve her energy and not waste it shivering needlessly. Her bump was massive, protruding several inches in front of her frame – along with her breasts which had grown beyond their already substantial size during the pregnancy, both ripe and ready to feed the children she currently carried.

“Two babies…” she muttered. She had seen it happen only once, and she remembered the horrible, wailing sounds the mother made as she had to go through the ordeal twice in quick succession. What she remembered well though was the pure elation that the mother had felt after all was done, and both babies were in her arms.

She padded over to the door stepped through, then stood, resting her weight against the railing outside watching Altair put logs out onto the cutting area, swing down with his axe and split the logs into shards ready for putting onto the fire. She kept silent, observing her husband as his muscles rippled as they heaved back and forth splintering logs one after another. It was only the onset of the next contraction that broke her reverie as she gripped the railing hard and let out a loud gasp.

Altair immediately dropped what he was doing and dashed over to his wife. His hands wrapped around her from behind – quite the task considering the girth of her midsection – but he had practiced a grab which gathered under her belly and in turn, gave a small lift, relieving the pressure on her abdomen.

“You should be inside, you were complaining about lack of heat earlier.” Altair scolded.

“I couldn’t just sit there and let these happen, I need to move. And I was curious how you were getting on.” Vega retorted, a smirk on her lips, lost to Altair who was behind her. “Seems that the babies wanted to say hello as well.”

Altair let go with one hand and pushed aside Vega’s long, white hair and pressed his lips against the back of her neck – an act which sent shivers down her spine, something not lost on the large man who in this setting all but dwarfed his wife.

“How are you doing my love?” whispered Altair, his breath warm against the prickling back of Vegas neck.

“You know… feeling like I’m being pushed inside out… and right now my legs want to buckle… but that’s nothing to do with our little bundles of joy.” Altair repeated his kiss, an errant breathy groan escaping Vegas lips.

“I want to rest in water. I’ve seen how good it helps with aches and pains.” Vega announced matter of factly. “And I want it warm… so that means more wood.”

“Your wish is my command my dear. Let me bring this load in and we can set the pot to boil to warm the first bath load, by the time I’ve chopped the next we should be able to get a good cycle for as long as this ordeal takes.”

“My hero…” Vega muttered as she was cut short by the cramping sensation taking her breath away, all she could do was moan through the pain until it passed. Altair stayed glued to her until she eventually regained her composure and shooed him away, complaining that if he kept on waiting every time she had a cramp, the babies would be here before the water was even warm.

Altair was reluctant to leave, but knew he must. He walked out and grabbed the first handful of wood to take it to the hearth and set it on fire, whilst he filled the large cooking pot with water and set it away. He made 3 more trips back and forth to gather the rest of the logs that were split and put them into storage for later, whilst finally making another trip to carry the bath into the main room of the house and fill it half way with cold water to be heated by the boiling water later.

During this time, Vega made a conscious effort to not make any noise, though her contractions were unrelenting. She had almost succeeded by doing her breathing exercises (in through her nose nice and deep, slowly blow out of her mouth) and keeping her eyes scrunched tight closed, but she couldn’t help but moan through the peak of the pain. Altair kept on giving worried glances over at her as he passed her on his way back and forwards in and out of the house – she never moved from her position, just swayed her hips back and forward, rocking side to side, taking small steps raising and lowering one foot then the other in some sort of meditative mantra.

Finally, Altair said the water was boiled and started to fill the tub with the remaining scalding hot liquid. He tested it time and time again, adding a little more each time until he decided the water was finally warm enough – he knew that hot water would make Vega sleepy and may hinder the progress of the labour, but water too cool would not provide the relief she desperately wanted.

He walked out and took her by the hand, leading her to the tub. As she was about to step in, he pulled her back.

“Its traditional to be naked during a bath…”

“But I do not like my body. My stomach is all red and scoured by stretchmarks, and my breasts are veiny. I can labour in the clothing I have on and pull off my underwear when it is time.”

“Nonsense… you are beautiful. Your stretchmarks are testament to the work your body has done to grow our 2 babies, and your breasts – as magnificent as they are – are like that to do what nature intended them to do and feed our children. You are beautiful, and I want you to be comfortable. All you will do if you get into that tub whilst wearing clothes would be to end up having them stick to you and be uncomfortable… and you need to have comfort, now of all times… we both know there will be scant time for comfort when the time comes to push.”

Vega smiled, her heart warmed by the words of her partner. She knew he was right of course, but it went against all her inner thoughts to do so. She stepped back away from the tub and started slowly, removing her shawl, to the encouragement of Altair. Next was the dress, and then finally her underwear wrappings across her breasts and her crotch. Finally she was stood in the middle of the room naked, and on full display to Altair.

“Good girl, you know this is for the best.” He added encouragingly.

“I know, I know… but this…” she rubbed across the expanse of her belly “is both beautiful and grotesque. You shouldn’t need to stare at it.”

“Nonsense you silly moo!” he bellowed, somewhat louder than he intended, nerves for the upcoming labour overriding his own sense of decorum – he wanted his wife to be as comfortable as possible, and her old hangups about her body were not something that would help this situation. “You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen.”

“You’re right of course… it still doesn’t feel right…. But I yield to your superior knowledge. Now help me into this tub, I don’t think I can balance with this load in front of me!”

That brought a chuckle to Altair’s lips, lightening the mood as he held Vega as she stepped one leg then the other into the warm water. She got down onto her knees, then finally sat down and swung her legs out from underneath her until she was submerged in the large tub up to her breasts, her belly under the water.

Having such a large tub was a pain to move around the home when they needed it for routine wash nights, but it was always made to double up as a birthing tub, and it being large enough to move around in without being restrictive – and for Vega to open her legs wide in – was part of the intended design.

The sigh as she sank into the water, the warmth soothing the aches and pains in her back was almost musical to Altair. He stared at her as she sat there.

“What?” Vega asked.

“Nothing, I’m just amazed by you. Let me get the next load of water on to heat in case we need it.”

Over the course of the next 20 minutes or so, Altair fussed around the room fetching buckets of water and stacking them up 5 deep in case they needed them and he couldn’t get away, cycling them over the fire so no specific one got too hot or cold. Vega allowed herself to relax, breathing deeply and groaning through the contractions as they happened, focusing inward to try and combat the pain she felt radiating through her time after time.

Suddenly there was a sigh from Altair as she sat and stared into the simmering water in the cooking pot.

Vega opened her eyes and looked over to him. “What is wrong, love?” though she had her own ordeal to undertake, the sigh caught her off guard enough to want to see what was up.

“I just keep on thinking about our previous baby…” referencing an earlier miscarriage the couple had suffered in Vega’s early pregnancy. He was cut off as Vega groaned, the next contraction catching her off guard herself as she was too focused on Altair to prepare herself. He jumped into action and grabbed her hands over the edge of the tub and gave her somewhere to grab. She sequeezed as hard as she could, yelling out as it hit it’s peak, the pain leaving her gasping for breath as she panted through it.

“That was tough…” she whined as she recovered from the worst of the contraction.

“Sorry my darling, I made you lose concentration.”

“No… you had a legitimate worry. I think about the earlier baby too. At first I liked to think he or she was looking over us, a guardian angel of sorts. But now, as I feel these babies move around inside of me, I like to think he or she has been reborn with their brother or sister, and we still get to meet that elusive child… though I may have to have words with it very soon after it pops out, as it has been giving me some serious heartburn and kicking me in some very inopportune times.”

The light hearted comment helped soothe Altair’s worries, and he was left smiling. He stood up and kissed Vega as she leaned her head back against the side of the tub for support, allowing Altair’s kiss to press deep into her, their tongues intertwining, the passion for each other not lost over the years.

Suddenly Vega’s hand grabbed the back of Altair’s head and pulled at his ponytail. She yelled out as a new sensation hit her. “Baby… my body, it needs to push! The first babe, it’s coming!”

“Go with it!” Altair commanded. “You have seen this happen before, know what must be done. I love you, lets bring forth our babies!”

Vega grabbed the underside of her knees and pulled them back as she roared, eyes clamped tight shut as she put effort into the push. It released and she went again, strain showing on her face as she put in the effort. Altair moved into position behind her in the tub as he pulled out a washcloth and dunked it into the tub next to his wife and rung it out, dabbing it over her forehead as she strained.

The contraction let up enough to allow Vega to regain her focus. “This is both so much different to how I imagined it, and at the same time, exactly how I expected it to feel…” she panted with effort before the next contraction begun. Altair shrugged, not fully understanding what Vega was saying, but he knew his job was to just offer encouragement no matter what Vega was feeling right now.

“You can do it my darling. That was such a good effort.”

“Pfft…” Vega made a derogatory noise. “The effort hasn't even started yet… save that for later, when the babe crowns. But here we go….” She once again pulled her legs back and pushed. A good 30 seconds passed, with 3 good pushes involved, gasping breaths between.

Altair gave what little platitude he could to the proceedings with calls out of “good, go again, baby” and “that's it keep it up” at opportune times. He placed his hands into the water and found the tub to be getting cold – noticing Vega shivering a little between contractions.

“I will be back in a second baby” as he stepped to grab an empty bucket and pull out a load of chilled water from the tub. Vega’s eyes followed him around the room as he walked forward, grabbed the bucket, sunk it into the tub and threw its contents unceremoniously out of the door into the world outside. He grabbed a full bucket and slowly emptied it into an area where the hot water wouldn't scold his wife, who yelped and let out a “quick, quick!” command as she once more pulled back her legs and got back to pushing.

Vega felt a little out of sorts without her Altair close to her as she continued to push, but there was no other option as far as her body was concerned – her ability to stop pushing was as unlikely as trying to hold back the waves at the ocean. Her movements caused the newly added hot water to swirl around the tub though and that helped give her something else to focus on other than the gripping pain around her midsection and the feeling of unrelenting fullness between her legs.

Altair looked up from his task of dropping the water into the tub and noticed something between Vega’s legs as she pulled them back.

“I see something!” he sounded excited. The commotion caused Vega to gasp and release her legs as she kept her eyes closed still pushing, one of her hands probing to the folds between her legs. There… probing at it with her fingers, was her bag of waters starting to poke out.

Vega was gasping as she managed a few words between contractions. “The waters… they haven’t broken yet. It’s bulging out of me.”

“Do I break it?” Altair enquired.

“No!” Vega was quick to admonish him. “Let it happen naturally.”

As she let off the pressure of the push as the contraction force ebbed away, the bag slipped back inside, and once more all she could feel was her skin to her fingers, the sensitive lips and nub between her legs which Altair had, on so many occasions, played with and sent sensations through her spine right to her brain. She wondered…

As the next contraction started, she only pulled back a single leg. The second hand rested on her clit and she rubbed slowly. Altair’s eyes opened wide at the view in front of him.

“You… you’re?” he was flabbergasted. “You’re playing?”

“Shhhh…” came Vega’s response. “I want to try this, see if it takes the edge off.”

Vega didn’t speak further, two of her fingers rubbed back and forth as her face scrunched up and she pushed. The effort was there, the bulge appeared back between her lips, the bag bulging out until finally she yelled. Simultaneously, the bag popped underwater, the thin membrane floating away into the body of the tub. Vega flinched as it happened, but she had no time to rest, the contraction was still upon her. She rubbed and rubbed at the sensitive area between her legs, her head lolling back as she groaned mid-contraction. She gasped “It’s working” as she finally felt the contraction release, a gasp escaping her lips.

Altair was transfixed at the display in front of him. Eyes hyper focused on the fingers doing the work. “Your… erm… your bag broke” he managed.

“I felt it… it brushed against my hand as it floated away” Vega managed, still panting with her exertion. She stopped her rubbing activities as the contraction ebbed away. “Surely the head must be close… let me see if I can feel it.”

She inserted her finger within her folds and smiled. “It’s there I can feel the head of our first baby. I can feel the progress my body is making!” she sounded elated, but it was short lived. The next contraction ramped up quickly, and she resumed her rubbing activity. Her moan started almost instantaneously this time though, and soon escalated to a yelling shout. She couldn't enunciate her words given the situation, but as the contraction started to fade she managed a weak “no bag of waters… it hurts so much more… direct skin on skin contact, rubbing… stretch…”

Altair saw the frustration in her face and scrambled around to be beside her where he laid his hands on her arm. “What can I do…” he was frustrated himself, he was so used to being actively involved, and felt useless at this point.

“Get me a drink love, my throat is dry…” groaned Vega, her voice suddenly sounding very horse and scratchy. Altair pushed himself up off the ground and headed off to get a cool skin of water. As he was away in the kitchen he heard Vega’s yowling pain echo through the family home.

He rushed back in to a scene of Vega having let the second leg go, so they were both thrashing in the water, her fingers rubbing against her clit as much as possible, her second hand thumping on the side of the bath in whatever effort she can do to stave off the pain she was feeling. Altair grabbed the hand and held it tight, feeling Vega respond, squeezing as tightly as she possibly could. He looked down between her legs and his face lit up – he could see something emerging from between them.

He leaned over and took his second hand, grabbing the one that was rubbing her clit, and moved the fingers a few inches south, to feel the skin between her lips. Vega’s eyes shot open, and Altair nodded. “It’s working!” he bellowed. The break in concentration caused Vega to stop pushing and the head shrunk back behind the lips once again, causing Vega to wail “No… Don’t go!”

Releasing the hands he held, Altair instead placed his hands on her face, and kissed her. “You, my darling, are pushing out a baby. You know it will slip, and come, and slip again. You know this in your heart. Don’t get discouraged and work with your body. You know what to do.”

Vega nodded and asked for a drink, which Altair offered her, slowly lifting the skin to her lips as she drank deeply. It was soon time to push again though, so she pulled up her legs with both hands and went back to it. Altair stashed away the skin for future access and situated himself behind Vega, his hands rubbing her shoulders as she tensed up with the push. He lifted himself up on his haunches to see if he could see anything between Vega’s legs as she pushed, but her belly was in the way, and Altair couldn’t get a good enough angle to see anything. He cursed under his breath that he didn't think to have a mirror or something set up in the bath – something he would look to bring a metalworker into the home in time once the babies were born for the next time.

Over the course of the next 15 to 20 minutes, the couple didn't move from their location. Time after time Vega went from wailing in pain, to gasping for breath, back to wailing in pain and so on as she worked seemingly without end to push the head of her first babe out from within her. Altair was frustrated not being able to do anything, just hold onto her and give her platitudes as between pushes, Vega reached down between her legs and felt the progress of her work, at first the head disappeared each time as she let off the push, but slowly and surely the head remained peeking out at the end of each push, each time the stretch feeling greater and greater for her until finally she yelled out a shrieking, horrible scream.

“It burns, it burns, crowning baby, crowning… ooooh” Her wail didn’t end until finally about 30 seconds later she grabbed the sides of the tub, releasing her legs, and almost lifted herself up out of the water, her legs scrabbling backwards trying to find purchase on the slippery base. She jumped and yowled as she finally managed a weak “the head is out… get around and check for a cord.”

Altair didn’t wait, jumping up and dashing around the edge of the tub to see the head of his child poking out between his wife’s legs. The water was tinged with blood, he couldn't tell at this point if it was just coming from within Vega’s womb or if she had torn in the process, but he put that to the back of his mind as he reached in and felt around the neck for a cord. He was happy that there was no risk to the baby, so breathed a sigh to refocus his thoughts and took in the scene.

“How is it…” Vega sounded weak and exhausted.

“It’s beautiful… our baby.” Altair managed. He then realised the thing that was playing on his mind. The head was face up. Normally babies were born face down so their spines could bend with the movements through the birth canal, but if they were in posterior position, or back to the mothers back so they came out face up, that meant it was a much tougher process. Now Vega’s wails were explained.

Suddenly Vega gasped “Hold the head” as she pulled back her legs again and pushed hard, the contraction forcing her to comply, accompanied by a howling yell all through the push. Altair held the head as he first saw the first shoulder, then the second slip out from between Vegas legs, he gently pulled as the torso followed, and the legs. Vega gasped as she felt the weight pass through and out from her, finally releasing a triumphant yell of success as Altair fished the first child out of the bath water, holding it up as high as he could, still attached by the umbilical cord.

“We have a baby girl my love… our daughter. You did it. I’m so proud.” Altair was babbling with joy as he handed the baby over to Vega to hold against her chest, who in turn was crying tears of joy at the completion of the first of her two labours. The babe was making loud and screeching yells until she finally found Vega’s breast and almost without hesitation, latched on for her first feed.

Life was calm and quiet, at least for a few minutes. Altair didn’t make much noise, just simply stand and observe the currently 2 most important people in his life. Vega made cooing noises at the baby, who was more than content to suckle, having undergone her own tortorous journey a short while earlier.

Vega’s wincing face signified the calm had passed and the contractions starting up once more. “Is there anything you need my love?” Altair enquired, very conscious that the baby added an extra dynamic to how she had pushed before.

“No… I don’t feel the need to push with this… let me just…” she groaned, unable to finish her sentence. Altair knelt next to her in the tub, one hand stroking the head of his daughter as the other hand rested atop Vegas on the side of the tub. He looked over to her and noticed the water with its pinkish hue, and the vibrations of Vega’s body signifying her shivering. He dipped his hand into the tub and realised that over the time the water had become chilled.

“I can’t keep you in here, the water is filthy, there’s blood and viscera in here, as well as other waste… I think you should get out.”

Vega nodded. “I think I'll need a hand… my legs are a bit wobbly no doubt.”

Altair knelt to the side of the tub as Vega wrapped her free arm that wasn’t holding the baby around his shoulders. Altair supported Vegas weight under her arms as they stood up together, the blood pink water running down her body as she stood. She took a tentative step out of the tub, and with Altair’s help, finally managed to get both feet onto the ground and stand in front of the fire, using the heat to dry herself off.

The baby didn’t let this movement and jostling distract her, as she continued to feed. The sensation of feeding causing Vega’s contractions to ramp up, and her second breast to leak, something which went unnoticed as the water sloshed up and down over her belly when she was in the tub, but the milky white droplets dripping onto her belly and rolling down the rounded surface was mesmerising to both Vega and Altair now she was out of the water. The grunt of a contraction pulled them both into the moment though as Vega managed to say “I’m pushing…” as she stood bow legged in front of the fire, one hand gipping tight to her newborn and the other reaching out for Altair to grab.

Vega focused on a long, hard push, gravity aiding her in her standing position. Grunting through the length of the contraction she suddenly gasped. “What was that?”

Altair looked down and realised the baby was breech. “That… that was a leg.”

Vega gasped, a look of panic on her face. She had of course seen this before, and she knew that giving birth to twins most likely meant one was upright and one was upside down in the womb, just for the babies to take up the optimal space… but when faced with it happening to you, when you’re already overwrought from the earlier parts of the day… she wasn’t fully aware of it all.

Altair jumped in. “Focus, baby… focus. Nothing new. Just need to push out the body then the head rather than the other way around. Nothing you haven’t done before.” Vega could only nod, the next contraction upon her, her thighs dipping to open up into a squat, her groaning push resulting in the flop of the second leg out from between her own.

Altair realised that Vega was shivering, either a side effect of adrenaline, or simply just because she was cold from the water not having fully dried off her body, so he took the opportunity in between contractions to have her rest against a chair as he dashed to grab something from the bedroom.

Vega watched wide eyed as Altair left, the contraction forcing her to keep on pushing, the next baby’s hips now dangling between her legs. It was moving, slowly but surely, her already raw lips spread around the girth of the body. She whimpered as she pushed, not feeling the need to yell or tire her throat just yet, but very wary of the pain building as she pushed more and more towards the width of the head.

Altair dashed back into the room at full sprint, carrying a fur with him to drape over Vega’s shoulders. She kissed and thanked him as he took back over holding her weight, Altair’s arms wrapping around her torso, in the space between her breasts and her belly. She rested the baby on her thigh as she lowered down into a deep squat, her weight supported by Altair, the widening of her pelvis as she lowered down almost heavenly compared to the tight space she could manage by keeping her balance by herself. With an almighty push, the body was born to the shoulders, the deep squat meaning the legs and body rested against the floor.

“Stay low my baby, push hard… keep that deep squat so our child doesn’t have far to fall when it’s born.” Altair instructed. Vega couldn’t respond verbally, but nodded, her focus remaining entirely on pushing, now the contractions were on top of each other.

Altair started to fret, this breech baby enough of a concern to set his nerves alight and as he held his wife closely whilst she struggled through her ordeal, his eyes darted around the room to see if there was something, anything, he could use to aid in this situation. He suddenly saw the large dressing mirror over the far side of the room. Gently rotating Vega’s body so her legs would follow suit, he moved her the quarter circle he would need to get a view over her shoulder of the reflection in the mirror. At this point Vega had not opened her eyes for over a minute and was pushing with all her might.

Altair saw the red, stretched lips of her vagina stretching out over the slowly emerging head, the baby dangling between her own legs like some sort of parody of a puppet that had it strings cut – just hanging there completely unable to move. But then he realised that it was moving. The legs kicked and the arms wiggled left to right. The baby was fighting to get out as much as it’s mother was forcing it out… but the lack of any where for it to get its limbs to touch were entirely to its detriment.

“Vega, darling, look forward.” Altair said. The calmness of his words cut through Vega’s concentration and she looked forward. That’s when she saw it too. Her second baby. The first still on her thigh, the second dangling there. The head reaching a wide point, and whilst she could only see the back of it, she felt the nose right there tugging against her inner walls. She knew she could do it, she could see the head coming out, and she pushed.

She yelled out, eyes no longer closed watching the show in the mirror. Her squat deepened, her hips widened, and as her voice cracked, her battle-worn throat no longer able to make any more noise the head slipped out.

The noise could be described as a splat. The baby slipping out from between her legs, a splash of amniotic fluid following it down and puddling around the shape on the floor. The room was eerily silent after all the commotion in the moments preceding it. Not the first baby or the second made a noise. Altair gently lowered Vega down to sit as he dashed around in front of her to see to the second baby.

Gathering towels he rubbed the baby vigorously, trying to stimulate it. “Breathe, breathe!” he gasped, panic now starting to set in at the baby’s silence. As if the two children were intrinsically linked the little girl’s eyes stared wide at her sibling, no noise came from her. Then suddenly it came. A watery weak cough, then a second go, much stronger than the first, and the second baby’s wails echoed around the house.

The first baby joined the chorus, and along with Altair’s and Vega’s tear-streaked faces, relief swept over the room. Altair looked down at the bundle held in his arms, still connected to it’s mother by the umbilical cord, and saw between its legs.

“We have a son!” he exclaimed. Bringing him close to Vega, handing him over and then finding something to tie and cut the cord. Finally, the baby was released from it’s connection in the womb, and the four sat in a huddle in the room, simply existing in the moment and not considering anything else.

Finally it was time for Vega to bring forth the placenta, and after a short while, Altair rubbing Vega’s deflated belly as she pushed with the contractions, two separate meaty lumps were caught in a bowl for examination. She laid the babies down and along with Altair, they checked both over and were happy everything suggested everything had happened exactly as it should.

“The two placentas would suggest that they are not identical.” Altair commented.

“I can see that dear… one has a penis, another has a vagina.” Vega chuckled at the obviousness of the situation that Altair had not realised as she kissed and hugged her husband. She certainly needed sleep, and she just hoped her two new additions would give her that small mercy after the night she had bringing them forth to the world.

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #labor kink #pregnancy

[kookiyu]

I've been rereading from the start for the 28th time and was thinking about the first chapter Namari appears and how strong it is...

We don't know anything about her before now but this exchange she has with Laios is really engaging and tells us a lot about her place in the party and her personality. She and Laios have a shared obsessive fussiness about their particular passions that comes across as really overbearing and offputting to other people... We see throughout the series and in the daydream hour omake chapters that prior to chapter 1 Laios had been hiding his interest in monsters from everyone for a Long Time. He sits on his feelings about things and is a terrible communicator because he's afraid to open his mouth and be completely ostracized by everyone around him, based on his experiences growing up. His silence and passivity usually turns into him being exploited by others (we never learn the exact reason for his desertion but we do know that the caravan he used to work for seemed to treat him especially poorly before Falin showed up.)

Namari, on the other hand, is a huge bitch. She's extremely vocal and opinionated about things and is fearlessly insistent and unashamed of it... Laios sees this part of her and where it comes from and he respects her for it, probably because he looks up to her lack of a filter. The 'undiagnosed autistic person being ruled by shame and self-censoring by just never raising their voice' is a real and common phenomenon and we see it a lot in Laios. His line at the end of the page here and his willingness to face the brunt of her criticism shows how much he appreciates her.

Meanwhile when she listens to Laios and Senshi talk about how to prepare tentacles and sees him expressing himself unfiltered her expression is just raw shame and dread... In the context of the chapter there's definitely the practical element of "oh my god, he's eating the monster that killed Kiki" but the expressiveness in Kui's art conveys a really particular mix of emotions to me and I can only see it as a kind of projected anxiety towards Laios. It's compromising for her; She cares a lot more than she lets on about the Touden party and Laios himself. There's a sense of responsibility for enabling him and a sense of protectiveness, like 'if anyone else finds out what you're doing they're going to treat you worse than you can imagine!' But I think more than anything she's afraid for herself. Namari is a Dwarf's Dwarf. She was exiled because of something her father did and it's haunted her her entire life... Being closely associated with Laios and the rest of the party would mean not only is she associated with a criminal, she's also involved with the psychos who've been eating monsters. That's on top of the fact that seeing someone she cares about behave the same way that she does without any of the defensive reflexes she falls back on to shield herself makes her scared! You can't just be yourself in front of others like that, because they'll always see the worst in you and run with it. She also seems to struggle with her own feelings towards the party, considering how she's not shy about letting other people know she thinks Laios is weird in contrast to how she can't abandon him or the others when they need her... It's great character writing.

There's a brief exchange near the end of the chapter/beginning of the next where she talks about the importance of an adventurer's reputation... Other peoples opinions of her matter a Lot, and reasonably so! She's had an unbelievably hard time of it, being exiled from a culture built around extremely close-knit communities and networks of support for something she didn't do... I think it makes complete sense why her motivations seem completely self-interested on the surface, and it's because she needs to find her people. For as shitty as Mr. Tansu can treat her (the human shield thing is bananas; you get the sense that he wouldn't be doing it if he didn't know he could just revive her after), they're also a really close adoptive family, and they all seem to love her a lot (the twins in particular, for obvious reasons). Wanting to be a part of that makes so much sense for her. I love how dense this chapter is looking back with the full context of the series as a whole... As much as I wish she'd had more scenes with everyone, I'm really happy with what we got anyway. Namari leaves such a strong impression in spite how infrequently she shows up... One of my favs for sure

#dungeon meshi #long ass post #i just love namari a lot im always thinkin about her at least a lil bit

[filmofhybe]

PROFILE - Swimming Sperms

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> synopsis : Excited to become the new lifeguard in the campus as your part time job to pay off your rent. Until you noticed one particular person who keeps coming during your shifts and stay until it ends - Nishimura Riki. Non of you exchanged words but it all starts with mini smiles and eye contacts. Will both of you remain trapped in your silent world? Or to find the courage to talk to each other, that would lead to more than just unspoken interactions.

• masterlist | next

comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

Y/N Y/L/N - the pretty campus lifeguard. Lived a decent life but a missing father figure. Loved swimming since she was young. Know half of the tall 7 dwarfs besides jay sunghoon & niki. She’s studying biology and psychology. The chaotic and 2nd youngest one in the swimming sperms. But she’s the mother of the group. First year at college.

Hanni & Lee Isa - the only lasting trio (ft y/n). Known y/n since primary. The only trio that lasted icl. I mean they all have the same interests and they don’t get jealous when the other two hangs out together. Hanni is studying media and performing arts while Isa is studying Biology and Chemistry. Tries their best to control y/n but can’t cuz she’s too chaotic. The ACTUAL mothers of The swimming sperms. Both in third year at college.

Sunwoo , Ricky & Intak - another only lasting trio. Got to know the girls during high school. They all though taking engineering and marketing together would be fun💀 now they are stuck with studying it. Bullies the living shit out of y/n all because if she was born s few months earlier, all 4 of them would be in the same year. Ricky has known Niki since middle school but separated after graduation. Whilst sunwoo and Intak met through Ricky during the first day of High school and has been inseparable since.

a/n: will be tagging everyone when the first chapter is out :) so please be patient with me!! If you also want to be tagged on my other works you can submit the taglist application form in my navigation post :)

#k lables #k films #k neighborhood #🐰 filmofhybe #🛟 niki lifeguard series #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen x oc #enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #kpop #niki imagines #niki smau #enhypen niki #niki x reader #niki nishimura #nishimura riki x reader #niki fluff #enha niki #nishimura riki smau #enhypen fluff #niki enhypen #niki fake texts #niki fanfic

[cornerful]

'Dwarf-coat, elf-cloak, blade of the downfallen West, and spy from the little rat-land of the Shire'

Yes thank you Mouth of Sauron for outlining the fact that Frodo physically represents the hope of all who oppose you >:,(

'These are his terms. Take them or leave them!'

'These we will take!' said Gandalf suddenly. (...) and Gandalf coming seized and took from him the tokens: coat, cloak, and sword. 'These we will take in memory of our friend,' he cried. 'But as for your terms, we reject them utterly.'

Gandalf suddenly walking up and snatching the things back in such an informal way is gut-wrenching to me. It doesn't matter now if it shows how much he cares for Frodo. And he can't accept the terms.

Reading chronologically this is one of the occasions where narrative tension is actually lost (not that it doesn't still hurt.) In book order, we left Sam reeling outside the doors of the tower of Cirith Ungol and still don't know what's happened to him or Frodo all this time and finally we are presented with this.

The exchange between Gandalf and the Mouth of Sauron is so tense too because what of the ring? Frodo himself has been taken captive but the enemy speaks of spies and conspiracy, fishing for information, and seems to know nothing of Sam...but he could be holding back, yet why would he? And surely Sauron has not found the ring. Does Sam have it? Where is he? Is he lying dead somewhere? What of Gollum?

Gandalf, Pippin, and all the rest have to just sit and take the uncertainty, sit on blind faith and do their job as a distraction, death looking them in the face and this promise echoing in their ears:

he shall endure the slow torment of years, as long and slow as our arts in the Great Tower can contrive, and never be released, unless maybe when he is changed and broken, so that he may come to you, and you shall see what you have done.

#thanks i hate it #and now im wondering. surely the orcs got Frodo's name out of him 😥 #i guess that info got lost in all the killing and maiming bc surely... #food for thought #lotr newsletter #lotrn325

[endless-bunny]

Pathfinder Iconics Comparison Part 1: Classes with Different Iconics

[Part 2: Core Classes] [Part 3: The Remaining PF2 Classes] [Part 4: Classes Who Got Demoted] [Part 5: Prestige Classes] [Part 6: Who's left?]

Paizo hit upon a really clever bit of design when they came up with the idea of "Iconic" characters.* Unlike some other role-playing games, which have illustrations full of generic characters and scenarios, each character class in the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game is illustrated with an Iconic character. These are fleshed-out characters in their own right, and in addition to appearing in illustrations throughout the books, they're used for novels and comics and fiction of all sorts. Some of them appear as party members in Kingmaker and Wrath of the Righteous. *Note: I have since come to learn that the character illustrations in the Player's Handbook for the third edition of Dungeons & Dragons were considered Iconic. The characters for the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game therefore represent a continuity of that concept rather than something Paizo came up with. However, I think Pathfinder does it really well, and it's something that is sorely lacking from the fifth edition of Dungeons & Dragons.

Between the first and second editions of Pathfinder, some of the Iconics got swapped out, while others stayed the same but got updated outfits. See below the cut for comparisons between the classes that got swapped, and I'll make separate post for classes which stayed the same.

Note about the artwork: We have the absolute shining star Wayne Reynolds to thank for most of these. He's genuinely my favourite fantasy illustrator. Unless noted otherwise, all illustrations in this post are by him (and all are © Paizo). Paizo credits all the interior artists at the front of each book but finding out which specific artist did each specific piece is a bit tricky. Thankfully, not only does Wayne sign is artwork, he has such a distinctive style, so he's easy to recognise.

We'll start off with the characters who are completely different.

Alchemist

Damiel (PF1, he/him, Elf) and Fumbus (PF2, he/him, Goblin)

Pathfinder 2e has promoted Goblins to a core ancestry, so they wanted one of the new iconics to show it off. Goblins often have a fondness for things blowing up, so alchemist seemed like a perfect choice. Fumbus has already had his own solo adventure in a comic book, while Damiel was featured in Hollow Mountain.

The Alchemist appears in Advanced Players Guide for PF1 and Core Rulebook for PF2.

Gunslinger

Lirianne (PF1, she/her, Half-Elf) and Nhalmika (PF2, she/her, Dwarf)

These ladies are both very cool in their own ways. Lirianne has that sort of Clint Eastwood vibe, peeking out from under her hat. Nhalmika is a real Mama Bear, and it's quite rare to see a mother going adventuring.

The Gunslinger appears in Ultimate Combat for PF1 and Guns & Gears for PF2.

Oracle

Alahazra (PF1, she/her, Human [Garundi]) and Korakai (PF2, he/him, Tengu)

Like goblins, tengu are now more available to player characters in PF2, and Korakai was brought in to demonstrate that.

Lest you worry that Alahazra might have been forgotten, she does appear in the PF2 Advanced Player's Guide as one of the Oracle "quick builds", the Flame Augur. She also continues to appear in scene artwork in the books.

Illus. TBD, it's not Wayne.

The Oracle appears in Advanced Player's Guide for PF1 and Advanced Player's Guide for PF2.

Psychic

Rivani (PF1, she/her, Human [Vudrani]) and Thaleon (PF2, he/him, Elf [Vourinoi])

I love Rivani's outfit, and there is something to be said for completely invisible magic, but the splashes of colour in Thaleon's key art just make it so dynamic I can't help but love it.

The Psychic appears in Occult Adventures for PF1 and in Dark Archive for PF2.

Summoner

Balazar & Padrig (PF1, he/him, Gnome) and Ija & Tuku (PF2, she/her, Human [Bonuwat])

The Summoner is the Pet Class in PF2. It lacks a lot of the granular customisation of the class in PF1, but in exchange the class works in sync with its pet in a way that the Ranger and Druid can only envy.

On a side note, it seems unlikely we'll get the Spiritualist in PF2 given that the Summoner can take an Undead Eidolon and cast Divine spells if she so chooses, so as a bonus, here's Estra (she/her, Human).

The Summoner is found in Advanced Player's Guide in PF1 (with a revised version appearing in Pathfinder Unchained) and in Secrets of Magic in PF2. The Spiritualist is found in Occult Adventures in PF1.

So that's your lot. All five of the classes that got a new Iconic between editions. If I remember, I'll update this post with links to the others once I make them.

#pathfinder 2e #pathfinder #pf2e #tabletop #ttrpg

[lgctaeha]

╭  ✿ STUDENT PROFILE !

NAME: PARK TAEHA / 박태하 ( Also goes by Esther Park )

YEAR: SECOND

MAJOR: DANCE

SUBJECTS RANKING

✿ DANCE HISTORY ✿ PERFORMING ARTS ✿ JAPANESE CONVERSATION THROUGH MOVIES ✿ BEGINNER YOGA ✿ ASTRONOMY

3 RANDOM FACTS:

✿ Much like in lgc!verse, Taeha followed after her older brother, Taekyung ( npc ), who is a current fourth year music theory major at LGCU. Although she auditioned for the Dance program on a bit of a whim, she's happy to have found her home at LGCU ( and to be able to bother her bro on the regular basis òuó ). ✿ She absolutely love, love, LOVES ( !!! ) being in the dance major and spends most of her time in one of the campus studios rehearsing. She's even begun to choreograph her own contemporary pieces and is looking forward to taking a leadership role in this year's showcase if her dance professor will allow it ( ...or until they give in because Taeha just won't stop asking and sneaking baked goods into their office until they do - ) ✿ Taeha is co-founder and co-captain of LGCU's unofficial Spirit Squad, alongside @lgcxminji. You can find the two skipping around campus in their .✰*DIY spirit squad shirts and handing out mini promposal macarons to every student they meet, inviting them to a big group photo at the end of the night.

✿ Has atrocious handwriting, but that doesn't stop her from leaving notes of encouragement in various locations around campus. Don't be surprised if you find a 'you can do it!' note at your lunch table or a 'don't give up!' in a random book you pick up at the library.

✿ Speaking of library, when not hanging out in @lgcminseo's dorm room or pestering @hyunsoolgc to add a ~ love column ~ to the school newspaper, she can be found in there 'studying' ( translation: catching up on the latest Attack on Titan manga with @lgcjino ).

✿ She also really hopes that he knows what's going on in their Astronomy class, because she dragged @yoonalgc into it thinking they were going to be reading each other's birthcharts and finding soulmates and now Professor Nahee is asking about Dwarf Galaxies and apparently there aren't seven of them and they have nothing to do with Snow White -

✿ But the library is not always for procrastination and shenanigans! Being a native English speaker, she spends most Saturdays volunteering for language exchanges with other international students, and even started to participate as a learner herself. So far, she's picked up quite a bit of Japanese, so she's certain she'll get at least a B in her 'Japanese Conversation Through Movies' course ( and worst case scenario she'll just blink some morse code to @lgcxsofi for presentation answers ).

✿ In the spring, she's known for fluttering around campus in a pair of cheap fairy wings claiming to be 'Campus Cupid' and delivering confession notes ( real or staged ) and playing matchmaker for both students and faculty alike ( looking at you Professor Eunsook ).

✿ When it came to her own confession during last year's 'Campus Cupid' run, she accidentally shot a suction cup arrow directly at @seyoonlgc's face and hasn't been able to show her face in front of him since.

✿ ...Or at least she tried not to until she realized they were both in the same beginner yoga class. At least she can hide out in the corner giggling with @yujinlgc and taking naps - I mean, practicing her shavasana.

✿ And last but not least, Taeha has been so ridiculously excited for prom she can barely stand it! She's got THE dress, the shoes, and the best friends in the whole world ( even in all the Dwarf galaxies!!! ) and she can't wait to dance the night away with all of them ( and annoy them to no end by taking polaroids every five minutes ).

#╰ ❮ ❀ development ⁄ canons ; ❯ #lgc:universityprofiles #tagged because mentioned!: #lgcxminji #lgcminseo #hyunsoolgc #lgcjino #yoonalgc #lgcxsofi #seyoonlgc #yujinlgc #( i had so much fun with this you don't even understand ) #( also knowing taeha there's probably another 249583298 that needed to be mentioned - ) #( so just know the last bullet point is for everyone ♡ ) #( ...and first person to tell me how to make the small text work right gets a macaron oksjdagldgj )

[felassan]

Thoughts/wonderings on the Dragon Age: The Missing issue 1 preview pages (Dragon Age: The Missing #1 spoilers at link), under a cut due to spoilers (please note post contains spoilers for front pages and synopses of subsequent issues beyond #1 as well):

I know it isn't new, as we saw her before in this piece of art, but I love Evka's design, like her hairstyle, her facial markings, etc.

Evka and Antoine is a pleasant surprise, I'm looking forwards to spending time with them and learning more about them, and I hope they both make it out of the issue alive.

going by the presence of two other characters (that resemble Teia and Viago) on the cover of #2, it seems Evka and Antoine are the companions for issue 1 only, but still, the composition for the adventuring party of issue 1 is such a treat. No humans, and dwarf-heavy!! I'd like to see more of that sort of thing in DA going forwards

about that. Evka and Antoine in #1. #2 has what looks like Teia and Viago on the front. #3's synopsis says Varric and Harding run into a pair of Veil Jumpers, and I wondered here if they could be Strife and Irelin. based on this I have wondered if each issue of Dragon Age: The Missing features a different cameo of 2 of the 'newer era', 'Tevinter Nights & similar' characters, perhaps even representing different factions? [Wardens, Crows, Veil Jumpers/The Triangle Guys, ?]. a) how fun, and a neat way to re-feature and expand on these characters before DA:D b) could we be seeing these folks in DA:D? c) who could it be in The Missing #4?

I like Varric's dialogue, I can hear 'his voice', u know? he seems so tired and on-edge in this. :[

So, if something has been dragging the people of Marnas Pell away / abducting them, the title could have a double meaning. It's not just Solas who is kinda 'missing', that Varric, Harding and the Inquisition remnants are looking for. these poor people are missing as well. if so and since that's the title of the whole series, not just one issue, that could be a plot thread that runs through all 4 issues

Varric and Harding's dialogue "Stop him, what else" / "But you were his friend, right? Maybe you could, you know, talk to him?" exchange nicely reflects the Solas choice Stop/Redeem at the end of Trespasser

"It fits, though. A refuge in the ass end of nowhere. He's really gone down in the world", Varric pls, the shade

"You were his friend, right?" reminded me of when the Inquisitor can ask Varric in Haven 'tell me about your friend Anders, the mage who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry'. poor varric, he must be so tired and feel so guilty feeling like his friends keep ending up doing stuff that isn't good for the world either with his involvement or under his nose without him knowing.

the light/dark shading on Varric's face feels quite intense compared to the others. it emphasizes for me how on-edge and stuff he's feeling/acting

Has Harding's hairstyle changed since DA:I? ^^ she wears it in a long braided ponytail now? reminds me of the Harding-esque dwarf in this DA:D concept art

interesting, they're in the Deep Roads with those familiar dwarven statues, but when Antoine is looking at the wall, that looks like a carving of a human-sized figure on a horse

"A tall, dark figure, emerging from the Deep Roads to drag the unwary to their doom" 👁️

"There could be a human or an elf down here, using the place as a base for whatever terrible scheme they've concocted" 👁️

the shadowy figure at the end 👁️

I guess if they told Evka and Antoine, they would probably become people Solas does know, not 'people he doesn't know', and the Inquisition remnants are trying to keep their operations secret and uninvolved people out of harm's way. I also wonder specifically what lead it is that the Inquisition remnants had that sent Varric and Harding down here after Solas in the first place. is it just Varric & Harding looking into these, or are there other groups of known faces investigating others?

about the kidnappings, and the possible it's darkspawn/maybe it's not darkspawn stuff. we know that darkspawn take female captives during raids and take them into the Deep Roads (the origin of Broodmothers). in the novel The Calling, the Architect's darkspawn captured and took captive Warden Bregan. ofc that doesn't mean it's darkspawn, especially since Evka and Antoine hadn't sensed any yet, just that it's not unknown that darkspawn kidnap people. is whatever/whoever's taken the people doing effed up experiments on them? is there any connection to the underground monsterpools from Horror of Hormak? how does it link into the plots of subsequent issues e.g. going by the Venatori presence in the synopsis for #2, maybe it is them who are the culprits?

could investigating the kidnappings be why Evka and Antoine had been recalled to Weisshaupt in TN?

also I'm just so excited! Obviously we knew that this comic was coming, and that it's stated to be a DA:D lead-in. but it's still just so exciting to finally see the DA:D storyline, or the prologue thereof, finally kicking off (things like TN & the short stories were great but more in the vein of bridging content between things, this feels more like 'Chapter One').

#dragon age: the missing #dragon age: the missing spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games

[omgkalyppso]

from This Template art by @crxwes

Even's another character whose only been in dnd campaigns that lasted 3-4 sessions Tops. In her original iteration, her family was responsible for watching the tomb of a prophet to a homebrew god, and once when adventurers tried to break in for gold, she peeked inside and her eye that saw the contents turned red. The events also led to her closest sister being turned to stone, and she was adventuring to collect illicit materials for a mage who promised he would restore her sister in exchange. Meanwhile there was a prophecy of a coming plague to worry about. She had a pi/ntrest board and a playlist.

Content ID: On the left there is art of a hill dwarf. She has brown skin, brown hair that is lighter at the base as if it was dyed which is tied in at least three non-exhaustive braids, and one blue and one red eye. She has a neutral expression. She is wearing white, beige and brown clothing.

On the right there is a character profile which reads:

PROFILE

full name  —  Aoibhinn Deepholme social name  —  Even age  —  79, born 1413 DR gender/pronouns  —  nonbinary, she/they orientation  —  bisexual

birthplace  —  Eartheart residence  —  Eartheart languages spoken  —  Common, Dwarvish, Celestial, Undercommon

height  —  122 cm / 4’00” weight  —  63 kg  /  139 lbs hair color  —  brown eye color  —  blue and red

subrace, race  —  Hill Dwarf subclass, class  —  Assassin Rogue background  —  Acolyte alignment  —  Chaotic Neutral deity  —  Moradin

party  —  Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale (?), Lae’zel (?) romance(s)  —  Karlach pet/summon —  N/A

At the base of the image there is a final line which reads:

NOTHING COMES FROM VIOLENCE, AND NOTHING EVER COULD

Which is part of a lyric from Fragile by Sting. /End ID

#oc tag: aoibhinn #baldur's gate 3

[xxmisty]

First intro post for a verrrry long time!

Hello! 🌈

Bit out of practice for this but since I’ve started to get a few new followers again I thought I should make a quick post to say thanks for following and to kind of re-introduce myself since I’ve been away a little while. Tumblr’s been my online home since 2011 though so even when I’ve been away a while I’ll always come back sooner or later - I met my lovely partner here and this hellsite saved my life in a very literal way back in the day so it means the world to me 💙

I can’t help worrying that if you’ve just followed for the art you’ll get fed up with the absolute yard-sard of fandoms, nonsense and tumblr nostalgia I’ve been reblogging lately and I don’t want to put unwanted nonsense on your dash so I’ve set up a side blog which I’ll reblog just my art to. Feel free to follow that one instead! 💜 Art side blog: @johnmist 💜

But if we share fandoms (especially Torchwood - oh my god I am over three years into the biggest hyperfixation of my life and it’s showing no signs of fading!) or other interests it’d be nice to meet you - feel free to say hi!

My name’s John, some people might still know me as Mist, but all the best people call me Stringer (= my wife 🥰) I’m a 40-something trans, bi, disabled artist who’s tired of all the hate, horror and misery out there. I can’t change the world but I can try to brighten it just a tiny bit with some fan art of characters and fandoms that I love.

At the moment I’m struggling big-time with my health. I live with fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, severe crohn’s and UC, endometriosis, narcolepsy, migraines and recurrent meningitis so honestly, sometimes I have to disappear without warning. From one day to the next I never know what I can manage so I try to make the most of every good day, every good hour, every good minute and draw as much as I can when I’m able. Art is one of the things that keeps me going, makes life worthwhile.

Full disclosure, I’m currently going through the worst health of my life and finding it hard to cope this time. Somehow this is the one place I don’t actually feel guilty sharing so I may talk about it sometimes. I’m also autistic and like just about everyone on this site I also suffer from anxiety. I also am very much an adult and may post/reblog adult subjects so please don’t follow if you are a minor or know you’ll find topics such as sex, sexuality, my fetish and other mature content upsetting - be safe in your own space, and feel free to follow my art blog instead 💙

💜 Again.... Art side blog: @johnmist 😁 💜

A non-complete list of my other fandoms:

Doctor Who (classic and new), What We Do In The Shadows, Marvel (mostly MCU, particularly Runaways, Jessica Jones, Wandavision, Doctor Strange, Guardians of the Galaxy, She-Hulk and Cloak & Dagger), Red Dwarf, Homestuck, Ashes to Ashes/Life on Mars, YuGiOh, Splatoon, Animal Crossing, Xenoblade, My Hero Academia, Yakuza, 80s and 90s nostalgia and various other franchises that we dip in and out of from time to time 💙

My icon is my favourite OC, Kim, and I may post about my OCs now and again.

I’m horrible at self-promotion but I do have a Patreon and a ko-fi and am very grateful for any support; money is a constant struggle and every little helps 💙 If you’d like a hi-res version of any of my sketches in exchange for a ko-fi donation please drop me a message 🥰

patreon: https://www.patreon.com/xxmisty

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/xxmisty

Thank you for following - I hope you enjoy my art!

#Personal #my art #about me #It’s always so nice to come home 💙

[menzoberranzans-historian]

History in Menzoberranzan

3917 DR

Menzoberranzan was founded by a priestess of Lolth named Menzoberra the Kinless 

1305 DR in politics

The drow wizards of House Mylyl, having been experimenting with creating chitines since 1233 DR,[3] finally abandon their efforts. The chitines, now free, form the realm of Yathchol beneath the Far Forest.

1313 DR

After proving his above-average agility and hand–eye coordination to Matron Malice, Drizzt Do'Urden begins training his martial skills with Zaknafein.

1318 DR

Having learned much from Zaknafein of the martial arts, Drizzt Do'Urden enters Melee-Magthere, the warrior school in Menzoberranzan.

1320 DR

Following the Thunder Blessing, the growing gold dwarf population is forced to spread out across the southern Underdark, seeking new caverns to settle and disturbing the long-held status quo of the subterranean races.

1322 DR

• Liriel Baenre is born to Sosdrielle Vandree in Menzoberranzan.

1325 DR

• Beers and wines made in this year become famous.

1327 DR

• Having trained for ten years at Menzoberranzan's Melee-Magthere, Drizzt Do'Urden becomes first graduate of his class.

1328 DR

After a raid on Menzoberranzan from the Illithid of Phanlinksal, House Baenre retaliates. In exchange for not destroying the settlement, El-Viddenvelp agrees to serve Yvonnel Baenre as an advisor.

1328 DR in people

• Drizzt Do'Urden flees Menzoberranzan and goes to live in the wilds of Nasadra. House Hrost Ulu'ar destroyed by House Xorlarrin

self-imposed exile

1339 DR

House Baenre destroys House Do'Urden of Menzoberranzan by the mandate of Lolth.

1358 DR

• House Oblodra (with its psionic powers unaffected by the Time of Troubles) plots to seize power over the drow city of Menzoberranzan. However, as the Troubles end, they are defeated and destroyed by House Baenre.

Led by House Baenre, an army of drow, goblins, and kobolds of Menzoberranzan attack Mithril Hall. The dwarves are joined by local barbarian tribes, svirfneblin, the forces of Nesmé and Silverymoon, as well as Lady Alustriel Silverhand and the Harpells of Longsaddle. Together, they defeat the drow and force them back underground.

in Menzoberranzan, where Matron Malice and the rest of the Do'Urden family are still waging war with House Hun'ett. With the help of renegade Jarlaxle and his group Bregan D'aerthe, the Do'Urden family win the fight moving them to Eighth position in the Menzo hierarchy.

Matron Malice goes to council with Matron Baenre, where it is revealed to her that Matron SiNafay Hun'ett is to join the Do'Urden family under the alias of Shi'nayne - the eldest daughter who has returned from her travels of distant drow city Ched Nasad. After several ten-days pass, Dinin and Briza with a small group of soldiers are searching for Drizzt in the tunnels of the Underdark, so that they can capture and kill him, and regain the favour of the Spider Queen, Lolth. 

The family of House Do'Urden gather in the anteroom, where Rizzen is being abused by Matron Malice. They discuss whether or not any of them should go after Drizzt again, Briza and Dinin not being keen at all since their last encounter. Malice hatches an idea, and so a ceremony takes place to bring forth a yochlol (maiden) of Lolth. To please Lolth, Malice has decided to sacrifice Rizzen so that they may regain enough favour to carry out her plans. As the yochlol is called, Malice goes to strike Rizzen but instead murders SiNafay, which gives her enough respect from Lolth to perform Zin-carla, a spell with re-animates the corpse of a single dead person but their mind is controlled mentally through the Matron of the House, a gift only given to complete a specific task. And so to hunt Drizzt, Malice re-animates Zaknafein knowing that he alone can destroy Drizzt.

Source

#history #menzoberranzan

[lenora-reyes]

Lenora Reyes's Not-So-Secret Diary

March 13, 632 K.C.

Dear Diary,

There is a great deal I'd like to share with you since my visit to Darkshire. First and foremost, the rumors surrounding the reappearance of House Sunshield was true. My venture to the darkened wood was not in vain, and in this darkness - I found light once again. It started in the form of Sir Adamar Meadowcroft as he caught sight of me by the fountain. Of all the people that would bump into me first, I might have secretly hoped he was last. And not because I do not respect him or hold utmost admiration to his stature as a Knight, but more so due to my disappointment in myself for abandoning him when he might have needed me most.

Regardless, I have found peace with myself since then in the short time among Lady Sunshield and the other Knights. It was a testament to my character and my inner strength to find courage in life that had fallen to my own self-doubt and darkness. The opportunity to reinvent and bring honor back to my life has been something of a blessing granted by Lady Sunshield. She has ensured me that my return was one that was forgiven and welcomed yet again.

So... Let me introduce you to, Sir Jonathan Folcard - he is the most collected of the knights and caters the embodiment of knighthood in word, deed, and through example. It is evident that he is the heart of the knights, if not the face. There is no doubt in my mind that Father would have spared no hesitancy in offering accolades of praise to Sir Folcard and saying something along the lines of... 'we need more men like you.'

Then there is Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, a Kal'dorei knight with ageless wisdom, ingenuity, and experience in the cursed land of Duskwood. My interactions with her have been brief, but she is an educator by the sounds of it. Perhaps that comes with being a guardian to a child, but... it's hard to say. My Mother would have certainly exchanged words with her about faith and the like. A conversation that I would likely lack the cadence of enjoyment for.

Sir Melek Dy'neer is another knight whose art comes in the way of secrecy, observation, and adaptation. While conversations with him were often unexpected and not arranged, his involvement in my own endeavors are most welcomed. Especially prior to my spar with Sir Adamar Meadowcroft. I would worry for anyone that should cross him or betray his trust, as his tactics are designed for accuracy and efficiency with lethal outcomes.

And of course, here I am returning back to my former Mentor. According to Adamar, my punishment for my breaking of oath was to tend to his son of 3 years. I have yet to meet this child of his, but it saddens me to know he is without his spouse. I don't imagine I will make his child any happier without his true mother present. But for both of their sake's, I'll see what it is I can actually do. And that spar I was mentioning earlier? Well... Adamar is quite formidable in the way of the shield and defense. Not to say his offensive abilities are anything to write off either... Especially given his connection with the light, I wonder how it came to be. He seemed especially taken aback that I kept good care of his former armor, which felt like the only thing I was capable of when I retreated from my duty. Oh, right... I'm deviating from the point... now back to the spar.

Let me just state the obvious. I am RUSTY. Despite my efforts to keep training by my sword. Considerable preparation was necessary after Branson provided me with new armor. Diary, make note, Branson is an eccentric dwarf with a penchant for bloodshed. I think he would sooner goad someone into a fight than service armor if he could choose to.

The chainmail is lighter than my former protection and it compromised my ability to adapt to footwork and apply strength aptly. Yet, Foe Reaper's in Westfall make for great adversaries on short notice. Nor do the farmers mind when it's one of their devices that are haywire that need cut down for service and re-acquisition.

Having had that experience before I engaged in combat with Adamar on a sleepless night was... exhausting. And there is more I must do to earn my honor and hold true to my oath. But no preparation at all would have likely told volumes in that spar. And instead, I found myself doing a fine dance with Adamar. Ugh... that's right... I will have to talk about dances later.

The exchange of our mock blades were not often, but they happened more than I fell prey to them. Needless to say however, when it comes to shields, I am sorely lacking in strategy and will need to invest further on penetrating such defenses when the need arises. Had it not been for my Lady's intervention to encourage me to carry her will, I might have seen myself out of the spar sooner. Yet, I can't help but wonder if there is still some anger harbored deep in Adamar after that use of spit. Or perhaps his effort to make it even was enough to satiate his former dismay in the way of a 'Wet Willy'. I shudder to know what prompted such a retaliation... Perhaps the evil in the world is not limited to demonstrations of crime, but harmless pranks as well.

But it would seem that I must return the favor of sorts to Adamar upon making my way to Southwatch. According to Lady Sunshield, I am within my right to act with retribution and sour the greaves he treads with. So, I am to make use of mud and... soil that which is a knight's responsibility to keep polished and presentable when representing the House they serve. There is no missing the image of my father rolling in his grave that I am going to enact this sin. But at the very least, it shall be all done afterwards. Or I should hope...

The arrival to the Keep will not be long now in Southwatch. Days have been spent attributing to my belongings and arrangements. Sheryl Fahnestock, a local farmer of Westfall has lent me Dopey, her trusted donkey for several days given that my horse was not available. I have been informed that my horse was borrowed when I was in town and I've yet to see it now.

And did I mention the fellow by the name of Finn Skylark? I'm not going to lie, my initial impression of him was... jaded. Perhaps it was due to the locals of Darkshire or my lack of interactions with him. He always seemed... unamused, disappointed, or... bothered by certain actions. When I gave my knee to Lady Sunshield, I think he questioned why I was so formal. Yet, after several conversations now - I think he is just a bit rough around the edges at first. It takes some continued conversation to get him to acknowledge you have a brain in your skull. I may not be the most gifted magic bearer or scholar, but I can tell when I'm feeling judged. And... recently we have come to a common ground for discussion regarding books and improving one's self. I'm looking forward to reading the books he lent me. In fact... Diary, he wrote one of the books! So this will make for passing the time before bed more enjoyable.

Diary, I know that this is a big passage this time around, and there is so much more I wish to discuss. Yet my hand aches from the handling of my belongings prior to this move. To sum up my next thoughts, there are the Necrolords in Duskwood, the emergence of Nyrsylth and Freya, Grandma Mabel, the Kirin'tor Investigator, Mr. Greer, Ichibod, and more! OH AND THE DANCE! I fret greatly on this dance as such a talent was more of my mother's thing than my own. Father told me I was better off fighting than dancing. Now that I have to do both, I wonder what will come from it.

Soon I will have my own room in Southwatch and the deed with Adamar's boots will commence. Light, if I could commune with you, I would ask that if Adamar gets angry again to please guide him away from exposing the truth of my actions. Until next time, Diary.

@theborderlandcoalition @agilneanrose @valorandvictory @adamarmeadowcroft

#Moonguard #World of Warcraft #MG RP #Darkshire #Duskwood #The Borderland Coalition #Lady Rosemarri Sunshield #Sir Adamar Meadowcroft #Sir Jonathan Folcard #Dame Eleysia Stormcrow #Finnegan Skylark #Sir Melek Dy'neer #Others in MG RP! #AHH #PRANKS #Knights #Sparring #Cheeky Moves #Necrolords Wut? #DANCING NO #DIARY PLS #MUD BOOTS #Southwatch