Side blog for posting fanarts and other illustrations | https://ko-fi.com/indigoscribbles
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
Commission! Dynasty guards are always watching
191 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Hannah Grennell in Giselle | by embracetheballet
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
putting my evil clone into the painting so she would stare at me 24/7
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let's change hairstyle a little bit:3 And something I haven't posted before
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
My designs of ethereal beings from the deep blue void
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rhysand Sovern Sekker
A stylized character portrait commission for amazing @lordofpenandpaper. A pleasure as always!
205 notes
·
View notes
Text
early stages of friendship are Soooo embarrassing like yea sorry....... it's me again............ i enjoy talking to you and spending time with you....... you can shoot me point blank if you want i dont mind
112K notes
·
View notes
Text
just saw a post about the Mari Lwyd and you know what thats exactly how i feel. I get it. It's so hard to answer point blank questions of what Rana is intended to be a reference to because answering a casual question so seriously sounds aggressive, not to mention it might look like "denying my people". Also I lichrally made her for funsies because I was homesick babes. But in the spirit of open heartedness, what Rana is a reference to is a culture that the national government has denied the existence of since the American occupation all the way to the 70s. She is a reference to a culture whose language is never taught in the local school system. What she is something that, much like other minority cultural groups, only brought out of the closet for when the national government wants to talk about how rich "national" culture is. What she is is something that will be re-demonized in the coming years as national propaganda of a mythical uncolonized past ramps up in the coming years. She is the absence of any reference to her at frickin government language research booths at big expos. So I am sorry if I can never bring myself to call Rana a reference to being Filipino.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rumble Feature pt. 2
Follow up to this, because Y'ALL ARE SO RIGHT.
Shoutout to my cat, this is just him at 4:30 am every morning.
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
I highly recommend cooking a niche AU in your mind through the process of Yes And. Conversation went from "we should give him tatts" to "technically arent all the rogue traders space sea raider war lords" to "i need to see that man in the boxer codex".
I need to go bully friend in the phone into doing Space Poland in Warhammer 40k. Im so srs.
Anyway. More from the AU under the cut.
Mwa.
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Right on time for the anniversary 😊
inspired by Chris Tester instastory
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Now we’re really starting to get into the part of the backlog that I’m less proud of x)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summery: Rushal overthinks things while wandering the Nightfall.
Pairing: Sevatar/Rushal (just a little bit)
A/N: More a character study than anything else. I have a lot of thoughts about Rushal and how he could have come to be a traitor, and just kinda wrote them out in prose instead of just headcanons. xD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dark, deserted places of the Nightfall were good for thinking. Unlike what many of the Night Lords thought, the Raven was not some broken, thoughtless pet leashed to Sevatar's side. He still had his mind, even if he'd lost any way to speak it in more than gestures and battle signs.
He haunted the depths of the Nightfall, the lightless places, where the only sound was his own breathing and the whisper of his clothes as he moved. It was nice, in a way. No reason for him to try pretending he was anything. That, itself, felt so very strange. He been pretending for a long time.
He had been Terran, once. He'd had a mother and father. He'd lived a portion of a life with them. Not long, of course. He was still young when he was chosen to be part of the Emperor's angels. He had still considered himself Terran when he joined the Legion. And yet, his skin color faded to a pallid, colorless white, his hair and his eyes darkened to the color of ink, his memories of a life before the endless war among the stars faded, and it became harder and harder to think of himself as Terran.
He was a Raven Guard, and nothing more.
And then their Primarch came, and he brought with him those who came from Deliverance, with their ways and their values. They remembered who they were, and their Primarch brought their ways into the Legion, prioritized them more and more, while it was clear he did not trust those from Terra the same as those from his own home. Slowly, the culture of the Raven Guard began to change. And Rushal found it harder to think of himself as whatever it was they had become.
He could no longer identify with his Terran past, nor with the Raven Guard around him. He was a pretender among them.
He drifted through the pitch-black halls. They were nothing to the eyes of an Astartes. He could see clearly enough. Barren walls. Pipes. Mesh decking. Things that skittered in the dark. Even he wasn't certain if they were animals from some planet or another, or something that had slipped aboard in the warp. He paid it no mind.
It hadn't been all that difficult for Sevatar to leverage the feelings of isolation and frustration. Maybe he should have been angry at the manipulation, but he wasn't. He was, in some ways, what he was used to. The Astartes were all manipulated in various ways. From the idolization of them by human populations that led young boys into dreaming of being one, to the conditioning they were put through, they had all been manipulated. Sevatar had not manipulated him since, at least, and had offered him more than a life of fighting for an Emperor who had used them all, in a Legion that did not want him, while he slowly lost anything that had made him *him*.
It baffled him now how his former brothers couldn't see that they were serving a man who was the exact opposite of what they claimed to stand for. He'd been vaguely aware of the hypocrisy of it even before Isstvan. Those from Deliverance claimed to fight for the freedom of human populations, to abhor tyrants like those that had lorded over them once. And yet, they fought for the Emperor. There wasn't a larger tyrant in the entire galaxy than the Emperor of Mankind. Anyone with eyes could see it. And yet, they chose not to acknowledge it. They refused to see it. Even he was guilty of it. He'd realized the truth long before he had joined the Night Lords, but he'd convinced himself that they were still doing the right thing. A tyrant, maybe, but the better of the evils out there in the galaxy. A tyrant was what humanity needed to defend it from the threats that lay in the stars.
Yet, that wasn't the truth, was it? The galaxy was no safer now than it had once been, especially with his sons fracturing.
Rushal paused, reaching one hand out to brush against the wall. Someone had drawn on the metal in streaks of grease and oil. A symbol that shouldn't exist, one that hurt the eyes to look at. He flattened his palm against the wall and wiped it away.
He had no love for the gods of Chaos. He had no love for the Emperor. His loyalties were his own. His goals weren't to unite or corrupt the galaxy.
"I didn't realize I'd taken on a janitor."
Rushal glanced over at the familiar, rasping voice, his eyes lingering for a moment on the form of Sevatar as the man leaned against a wall opposite and just behind him. He wondered how long the man had been following him while he'd been thinking. The smirk on Sevatar's lips told him that he likely wouldn't enjoy the answer. He turned, wiping his grease-stained palm on his pants absentmindedly.
"Come, the Kyroptera are meeting and I want you nearby," Sevatar said, beckoning him closer.
Rushal moved to his side without hesitation, and Sevatar's smile spread wider, flashing more gentle for just a moment. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Rushal's with a fierce possessiveness, teeth raking his bottom lip for just a moment before he drew back, flashed him a smirk, and moved to lead the way back out of the deepest parts of the Nightfall, and back up to where others were.
His goals were now very simple, Rushal mused as he followed the broad back of the other man: Survive, and ensure Sevatar survived.
The rest of the world could burn for all he cared.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
I went back to the gift I made for @nozhknife and added @anggrishka 's Darrius. Because you can't separate them. (I love them all)
#marazhai#rogue trader#warhammer 40k#rogue trader crpg#marazhai aezyrraesh#Roflan#Darrius#that boob window is sending me
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
If only you knew how much I love them
(The fact that there is no proper romance scene after his act IV personal quest is a total crime. There is no way in hell for Theciya to just let the topic drop after that "you are too kind" deflection. How is there no follow-up option there is beyond my understanding, are we really supposed to just go "eh, all good then, I'll just go fuck off somewhere, nothing more I need to do here"? Oh well, the game might lack a scene but no one can stop my headcanons, so here we go)
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think as a culture we have all forgotten that fandom is supposed to be fun.
It’s not that serious.
It was never supposed to be that serious.
Especially since most of the drama and hurt revolves around shipping.
All of the ships are fictional. Being canon doesn’t actually negate the fact that the ship isn’t real.
No ship, or any aspect of a fictional universe, is important enough to treat another real life human being badly.
It’s not that serious.
139K notes
·
View notes