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kabr0ztrousers · 3 months ago

Note

ngl kinda just need oviposition with ftm reader. thats all LMAO

An FtM reader? A little tricky seeing I don't have any lived experience in that field, but this series was about pushing myself in new creative directions, so let's see what happens!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 35: Interdiction

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: oviposition; noncon; brainwashing; weird science; loss of property; alien abduction; kidnap; forced impregnation; inflation; egg inflation

A/N: Another sci-fi story because I did a feral egging scene recently, and while that's pretty hot variety really is the spice of life. I'm also couching this one in the world of Elite, so that's fun.

Still taking the time to remind you all that requests are free and open, I have a bit of a backlog after yesterday to work through but if you ask for something, it'll probably happen!

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Exit Frameshift in three, two, one...

Bang. You pulled hard on the stick, steering away from the star and zeroing the throttle. The reality of supercruise means you're still moving at about 30 klicks a second, but that's as close to stationary when considering distances measured in light-seconds. You steered to your next jump vector and rose from your flight seat. Not best practice, your engine emissions a beacon across the whole system, but you're well past the pirate belt in uncharted space. The only contacts you'll see out here are either enterprising extreme-range miners or the desperate pirates preying on them, even they're vanishingly rare.

Space is big. Really big. Even a star system is small in comparison. There's a good chance nobody's ever been here before.

The thought comforted you as you rehydrated some food and applied your hormones. You thought back to home: a dump of a refinery station in the middle of Alliance space. You'd watch the spacers in the huge type-9 haulers bring in kilotons of ore at a time. You'd tried flying freight. The money's good, and there's no passengers to annoy you, but the trade routes were samey and the pirates were always hungry for a mark. You did exactly as much as you needed to kit out your Diamondback and set off for Beagle Point. They say reaching the end of everything changes you. You needed to see for yourself.

You never made it there.

Halfway through your tray of food-flavoured protein paste your instrument panel lit up. Something was flying hard up your tailpipe, probably not friendly.

You hit the leather of the flight chair and gunned the throttle, wrestling the interdiction beam threatening to pull you out of supercruise. You were moving too slow, and the other ship had the headstart on you. Lights dimmed and smoke rose from your console as your FSD struggled to dump heat into the rest of the ship. You'd lost main power, battery backups kicked in to maintain air as you craned to see what had caught you.

You couldn't see the ship so much as see where it blotted out stars. A great dark silhouette threatening to crush you in its absence of form.

A great maw opened on the surface of the object, drawing nearer to you. Your docking computer flared to life and started calculating vectors, bringing you in to land even as you struggled to disengage it. The whole ship jolted as you touched down, almost throwing you from your seat.

You grabbed a pulse rifle and flipped your table, it wasn't much cover, but it'd have to do.

Splintering glass. You flew backwards in a rush of wind as the cockpit depressurised, the emergency helmet in your flight suit deploying around your head, just before something hit you, and you lost consciousness.

You awoke connected to monitors, a tube sticking down your throat. Two large reptilian... men? were talking. You assume they were talking, and assume they were men. They were heavily built, upright, bipedal, and wore long white gowns, the purplish light in the room casting them in faint lavender.

They looked at you. One clipped a smooth piece of metal to the side of its face

"Greetings, you have been captured" The alien's voice was strangely familiar.

It was the voice from the Galnet broadcasts

"Where am I? What have you done with my ship? You tried to pull the tube from your mouth, but your hands were restrained to the slab you were lay on.

"Your vessel has been disassembled for study. Your technology and biology has been categorised."

Your heart broke. That ship was your pride and joy, you knew every inch of it, and now it's gone. You slumped back, staring up at the ceiling as the newsreader voice continued.

"We have identified that your biology is acceptable to host our eggs. This is the reason you have been revived. Implantation has a greater success rate when the subject is not anaesthetised"

You jolted up. Eggs? The fuck?

The lizards approached you. You could see now their robes were open at the front revealing their bodies. They were each holding scissors.

They cut you out of your clothes. First opening the reinforced kevlar of your flight suit as though it was tissue paper, then snipping through your binder and boxers revealing your naked, hairy body.

One placed a metal disk on your midriff, where you felt it stick. They pressed a button on a control pad and electricity started pulsing through you. Your hair stood on end as your nipples hardened and your cunt moistened, your bulbous clit standing erect. The lizards looked at one another, and their hands fell upon you. Two fingers were shoved down your throat, making you gag as the other set to work on your pussy. Both ends of you were being worked, forced to produce fluids and lubricate you for what was to come. The throat slime rising in your mouth and the insistent fingertips on your slit. The one at your pussy grabbed your clit between two fingers and started jerking it, rubbing the hood over your tdick.

Your struggling against your bonds turned to writhing in pleasure, bucking your hips against the lizard's hand. Its fingers pushed inside you and started pumping, his other hand still jacking you off. You couldn't resist sucking on the fingers in your mouth as your orgasm washed over you, moaning around the hand in your mouth and squirting thin fluid from your cunt at the alien servicing you. The hands released you. You held your mouth open and presented your cunt to them, eager for more.

You could see cocks emerging from the slots on their crotches, dripping fluid and pulsing.

They fell upon you. In a flash your cunt was filled, your clit grinding against the rough scales on the lizard's belly. The other lizard followed suit, burying himself in your throat. His precum was sour and slimy, easily lubricating him as he pounded into your mouth and throat. The tube seemed to be to breathe through, otherwise you'd definitely pass out on the rod forcing its way down.

You could feel another orgasm pressing against you, making your cunt clench against the cock inside you as the lizard's thrusting rubbed your clit. The device on your belly pulsed harder and you heard both of the reptiles grunt in anticipation. They could clearly feel it too, fucking your holes even harder and filling you with that slimy pre. The pulses made you ache. You kept humping against the cock in your cunt, tongue sticking out to lick at the one in your throat even as it ravaged you. One of them grabbed your tits, rubbing your erect nipples and pushing you over the edge.

Your body twisted as you clenched and squirted all over the one in your pussy. Your eyes defocused and crossed. Both lizards hilted in you at once, the lewd sounds you kept making clearly pushing them over the edge.

The bases of their cocks expanded, locking them in. One pushed against the entrance of your womb, the other halfway down your throat. They started to throb and pulse, twitching as the lizards groaned. You felt thick cum flood you before solid objects started moving down them. One after another, eggs pushed into you, bulging your belly and pressing up against one another.

Your skin stretched until the metal device popped off you. The cloud of desire lifted from you and you tried to scream, wheezing down the tube leading into your airway until one of the aliens grabbed it and pressed it against your ass.

You almost orgasmed again when it started back up, each egg driving a wave of excitement and arousal through your body as they flowed into your womb and your stomach.

You were bulging and round when they pulled out, gravid and pregnant with dozens and dozens of eggs. The one at your pussy slapped your ass when he pulled out, the sudden shock sending another firecracker-orgasm through you, making you whimper and twitch, unable to move for the volume of eggs in you

The lizards left the room, and you felt numbness flow through you again, surrendering yourself to drugged sleep

You never did reach Beagle Point

#################################

I feel like I was able to keep the Elite technobabble to a minimum here, most of the terms are pretty self-explanatory and no worse than Trek can be

Either way, my research has shown that if I remind you at the top and bottom of an episode to send an ask if you have a request, I get traction. So please, if there's something you want me to try out, revisit, reimagine, or you just want to send a dirty picture, my asks and DMs are open and I'm always hungry for ideas!

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marlynnofmany · 3 months ago

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At Home in the Mud

“Hey Wio, does your hover stool work over mud?” I asked from the door to the cockpit.

“Not deep mud,” Wio said, glancing at me with her tentacles at work on the controls. “The sensors feel for solid ground.”

“Dang.” I sighed. “Guess I’m stuck with cleaning the exo suit after this delivery.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “There are fresh batteries for the gravity wands, at least. Shouldn’t take you too long.”

Zhee stalked past me, his many bug feet clicking in what was probably irritation. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I, at least until he was out of earshot in the direction of the cargo bay.

I whispered to Wio, “And at least I only have two legs to clean.”

“Good point,” she agreed. “Best of luck!”

I thanked her and headed off after Zhee to where the exo suits waited. He had a head start in getting his on, which he needed. I tried not to draw attention to how easily I tugged mine on over my regular clothes (minus the shoes). Zhee didn’t even take the opportunity to make fun of my need for footwear; he seemed determined to get this delivery over with as quickly as possible.

He said, “Be sure to hold on to the hoversled so you don’t fall and slow us down.”

“Sure thing,” I agreed. I’d planned to keep a solid grip anyway. Hopefully this mud wasn’t the foot-sucking kind.

The ship landed gently — or rather, arrived. There was no landing pad close enough to our client’s location, at least none above the mud at this time of year, so Wio held the ship just above the surface on stable thrusters. The ramp nearly touched the mud.

Captain Sunlight had come in to see us off, and she stood to the side as we hustled down the ramp. “Be quick but careful!” she told us.

Zhee replied, “That’s the plan.”

I freed a hand to wave, then grabbed the edge of our most reliable hoversled. I would have liked to ride on it next to the cases of medical supplies (low priority, not urgent, thankfully), but that wouldn’t have been fair to Zhee. So I did my share of pushing and stepped cautiously into the mud.

Whew, I thought. More watery than thick. I can walk in this. And it was cold, but the exo suit did a decent job of insulating for temperature. I took in the sights more confidently, appreciating the fuzzy moss on all the trees, and the intricate shapes that the bushes grew in. It didn’t quite look like an Earth swamp, but it didn’t look hostile, and that was all I could ask for, really.

Behind us, the ship closed the bay door and lifted up to a more comfortable height to wait. Zhee, with a better view of the screen on the front of the sled, pointed with a pincher arm. We changed direction slightly and trudged through the mud.

The depth changed a few times in quick succession, going from ankle deep to above the knee and back. I did my best to maintain a careful speed, though it was tricky since I couldn’t see the bottom. Zhee seemed to be doing fine. I held onto the sled and took long strides, feeling the way with one foot before trusting my weight to it. Thicker lumps and rocks lurked along the uneven ground. I focused on stepping between them without losing my balance, trusting Zhee to keep us on track.

“Scenic,” I commented to break the monotony of silence and my own breathing inside the helmet.

“Wet,” Zhee replied.

“Scenic and wet.” I glanced up at the mossy trees, then back down at the watery mud. Muddy water? Somewhere in between. “Not the easiest place to walk, though.”

“The captain could have chosen Blip and Blop for this delivery,” Zhee griped. “But no, they’re busy helping Eggskin prepare some complicated food.”

“And Paint wouldn’t be up for this temperature,” I said as I stepped into deeper water that chilled me to my thighs. “Or this depth, really.”

“Paint misses out on a lot of unpleasant environments. Lucky.”

I looked over at him across the pile of strapped-down cases. “Only because she’d pass out and die if she got too cold. I don’t know if I’d call that lucky.”

Zhee tapped an antenna against the inside of his helmet. “Bah. Today, she’s lucky to be coldblooded. We’re stuck with this instead.”

I mentally ran down the roster of our other crewmates. Some of them, like Wio, had other jobs to be doing. “I suppose Mur wouldn’t have an easy time in something this deep either.” I didn’t even know if he could swim. Looking like a squid didn’t necessarily translate.

“No one is likely to have an easy time in this,” Zhee said, shaking a foreleg and splattering watery mud across a tree trunk. “I can’t imagine why the client chose to live here.”

“Maybe they like mud,” I said, trying to watch my feet even though I couldn’t see them.

“They are welcome to it. I look forward to getting back to the ship.”

I was in agreement about that. The info summary about this location had said it was the wet season (Really? Shocking) and that the regular roadways were unavailable. I was under the impression that there was a town somewhere nearby, or at least other people than just the one, but all I could see was endless swamp.

With rocks and the occasional tree root just waiting to trip me. I focused on stepping carefully and trying not to slow our progress.

Concentrating as I was, I didn’t realize we’d arrived until Zhee tugged the sled to the side. I looked up to find the first dry ground I’d seen rising out of the mud into a walkway of flat paving stones. A round stone house perched at the top of the rise.

We slogged up to leave an interesting set of footprints along the walkway: my left/right muddy bootprints and Zhee’s collection of much smaller splats. With the hoversled between us, it looked like this house was getting two visitors interested in staying as far away from each other as possible, instead of a single delivery.

When we got close, a chorus of tiny squeaks started up. I located the source: a small cage hanging beside the door, which held a handful of cricket-sized whatevers. While Zhee found what passed for a doorbell, I took a surreptitious look. They were small and blobby, not mini near-cousins of his, which was definitely for the best.

“Delivery!” Zhee announced while a chime jangled.

Various bumps and a muffled voice sounded from inside, then our avian client opened the door eagerly. “Thank you for coming!” he said in the same trade language we were using, just with the distinct quackity overtones of his particular species. His dark feathers were flecked with white and he kept his arms folded as if they were wings. He said earnestly, “I hope it wasn’t too long of a walk.”

“It was fine,” Zhee said. “Would you like your packages unloaded right here?”

“Oh! Ahmm…” the ducky fellow looked indecisively between the stack of boxes, the paving stones, and the indoors.

I said, “We could carry them in for you, but we’d track in a bit of mud.” The sled was much too wide to fit through the door.

“That’s all right; I’ll move them,” he decided. “Out here is fine. Now where should I—? Yes, thank you.” He took the payment screen from Zhee and signed for the delivery while I undid the straps holding everything down. We didn’t always bother with those, but I was starting to think we should. If I’d managed to trip and knock a box into the mud, that would have been an embarrassing bad mark on our record.

While we unloaded the boxes, those little whatsits serenaded us with a fresh chorus of squeaky chirps. It reminded me of tame finches with just a touch of guinea pig. I wondered if this was the local version of a windchime or something else.

The client saw me staring and said, “My dear little Cozy went missing, and these are his favorite food. I’m hoping to lure him back. You haven’t seen him, have you? A young cuddlebeast about this big, with a white stripe on his head?” He held clawed hands a few inches apart.

“Sorry, no,” I said with a look at Zhee. “I didn’t see any beasts at all. Did you?”

“No,” Zhee agreed. “Just mud.”

The client ruffled his feathers in a way I didn’t know how to read; maybe he was embarrassed. “They did tell me he’s suited to living in this environment, and he might not return if I let him out, but I haven’t given up hope. My home is nice and warm, after all.”

“We’ll keep an eye out on the walk back,” I told him. “Does he come when he’s called?”

“He always did when he was inside the house,” the guy said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” He waited for a moment, then looked down. “He loves his cuddles. I hope nothing bad has happened to him.”

Zhee set down the last box. “You’ve done what you can,” he assured the client, sounding like he might have even meant it.

“I suppose so.” The ducky guy looked sad for a moment, then rallied. “Well, thank you again! I don’t want to keep you. Safe travels!”

We bid him goodbye and headed back down into the mud, with me waving goodbye and Zhee trying to make good time. The client went back into his house and I focused on taking long strides again.

We went slightly to the side of the route we’d taken before. The mud was much lumpier here, with herds of round rocks that rolled around and made the footing treacherous. Despite my death grip on the sled, I was nearly swimming at a couple points in an effort to keep up. The muddy water was deep enough to swim in, but not consistently so, otherwise I might have given up and started paddling.

I had just decided to ask Zhee to slow down when I lost my footing completely and went under, holding my breath in panic before I remembered the exo suit covered my head. I got my feet under me by kicking lumps out of the way and I stood in the waist-high mud, wiping futilely at the dirty face mask.

Zhee sighed audibly and stopped walking. “Really?”

“It’s hard to find somewhere solid to step!” I exclaimed. “There are rocks and lumps of mud everywhere!” I scooped one up to prove my point, ending up with what looked like a potato. “Huh. That’s too light to be a rock. Tuber?”

“Fascinating,” Zhee said drily.

“It reminds me of an Earth food, but those don’t grow in swamps,” I said, giving it a closer look.

“Do not bring it back to the ship for eating,” Zhee said sternly.

“I wasn’t going to!” I protested.

“Good. It’s probably horribly smelly and liable to poison half the crew.”

I started to protest more, just on principle, then the potato opened an eye and I dropped it. “Ah!”

“What?”

“It’s a creature!” I shuffled in place, feeling more potato-like shapes bump against my ankles in the cold watery mud. “Are these all animals??”

“Ugh,” Zhee declared, lifting a couple exo suited legs out of the murk on his side of the hoversled. “What an unpleasant choice of environmental niches.”

I was thinking fast. “Wait, these could be like toads. It’s cold right now; maybe they’re hibernating. Hey, do you know what a ‘cuddlebeast’ actually looks like?”

“Not a clue. That’s your area of expertise.” Zhee gave me a look through the domes over his faceted eyes. “Do these things look especially cuddleable to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” I felt around gingerly for another one, hoping they didn’t have sharp teeth to use on people who interrupted their hibernation. “But that would explain why Cozy never came back, if he’s out here dozing with his distant family.”

“Well I’m sure he’s very happy if so,” Zhee said, stepping forward. “Let’s be off.”

“Wait, lemme try something first.” I put a hand on the sled as it eased past, but did my best impression of the squeaks that the food animals had made earlier. Cute little questioning sounds, like they were curious.

“If that didn’t work close to the house, it’s unlikely to work out here,” Zhee said. But he stopped again.

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” Then I squeaked some more.

“What a surprise; nothing. Now let’s—” Zhee flinched when something by his hind leg croaked.

“Cozy!” I said with a grin, ducking to look under the hoversled. “Here, boy!” Something potato-like with big eyes and a distinct pale swatch on the top was treading water in the murk.

Zhee stepped fastidiously to higher ground. “I can’t believe you found it.”

“Yup,” I said, testing my footing. “Now I just have to catch it.”

“As long as you keep your mud to yourself.”

“No promises,” I said, making the first lunge of many and only splashing a little.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #writeblr #writblr #writing community #science fiction

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dead-end-draws · 1 year ago

Text

Skywing Gladiator Helmets Part 2:

Part 1 + Lore behind these helmets, and why Skywings incorporated them in the arena!

Had way too much fun with the first batch of Skywing helmets, so now we have a baker’s dozen of them! Love drawing armor, even tricky ones like these guys are.

Average Skywing head base/measurement for Helmets:

#art #illustration #bookart #wings of fire #wof #dragon #dragon art #wof art #skywing wof #skywing #skywings #wof fanart #wings of fire fanart #wof fandom

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possibilistfanfiction · 4 months ago

Note

CaitVi prompt: hugs

[ok s/o the one person who wanted a climbing au lmao. this rly isn't abt climbing, it's just a silly meet cute thru jinx's pov. i love sisters ur honor! also idk jinx is a cooler name than powder so that's what we're going with lol. incredibly minimal angst :)]

keep your helmet on this; finish dressing your knot that; vi triple checks the number of quick draws you have on your harness — ‘i have twelve, and there’s only nine bolts, vi,’ you say again— while you roll your eyes so hard your whole head moves. she sighs, as marginally satisfied as she ever manages to be when you’re leading anything.

‘okay,’ she says, checking her grigri carabiner for, like, the fifth time.

‘okay.’ you roll your eyes once more for good measure before you establish on a truly disgusting set of crimps. ‘climbing.’

vi gives a very serious, ‘climb on,’ and since she can’t see you anymore, you let yourself smile. even though she’s annoying and hates when you take victory whips — your favorite — you do love her: she takes your life seriously.

the route is gross, overhung with tricky feet and big moves, but vi had lead it just before you and made it look pretty easy, even though it’s her style and definitely not yours. still, you’re not going to back down from a challenge, even though admittedly she’s way stronger than you: you’re light and unafraid of falling, which sometimes evens the playing field.

you yell out anchor and then take just like you’re supposed to once you finish the route, refusing to shake out your arms even though you’re pumped as hell, and vi lowers you smoothly. you expect her to have her utmost, full attention on you, but when you turn to talk about your beta as you undo your knot, you see vi very quickly get off belay and then take her fleece quarterzip — a black patagonia which had been your best thrift find of the past year, in your opinion — off in an almost frantic, decidedly uncool way. it’s even more ridiculous because it’s freezing and all vi has on under her jacket is her favorite ‘queer crush’ tank from your gym. she smiles in your direction — a small, proud one — but then her grin turns shy and she looks at someone else.

the someone else in question, a few feet away, gearing up, is, admittedly, hot — you gotta give vi that.

she has dark hair that manages to look chic even under her helmet, pants actually designed for climbing, and an arcteryx down jacket — the right weight for the fucking weather, at least — and even her chalk bag and shoes look kind fancy; you notice a pair of very neat camp slippers sitting next to approach shoes you could only dream of, the socks in them in a neat little ball.

‘caitlyn,’ she says to you, offers her hand in a firm shake — not a customary fist bump — before she ties in anywhere or chalks up. you’re kind of confused why she’s walking toward the start, but you introduce yourself anyway as you pull the rope.

‘cait is going to clean the route,’ vi explains as caitlyn ties in, another smile exchanged. ‘her climbing partner is peeing, so i offered to belay if she wanted to lead it.’

it’s a pretty gnarly 12a, and also vi never lets you clean anchors, mostly because you don’t think all the steps with a PAS are necessary and you take victory whips without announcing them first, but whatever. it’s boring anyway.

caitlyn and vi go through the most intense safety check, joyously, almost, vi practically giggling when she looks at caitlyn’s figure 8, her hand hovering over caitlyn’s waist when she checks the loops on her harness, and you sit with a huff on a small rock near enough the route you can watch.

you do everyone the profound kindness of staying quiet until caitlyn clips into the first quickdraw and vi very officially says, ‘you are on belay, cupcake,’ but then you’ve had enough.

‘cupcake?’

‘she’s sweet,’ vi says, concentrating more on belaying than she ever has in her life with you. you’re not stupid, so you can tell she’s really just trying to avoid you seeing her blush.

‘sure, sis.’ you watch as caitlyn does a pretty sick high foot to hand match and mantles calmly; vi shouts some encouragement. ‘did you get hot belaying me?’

‘what?’

‘very smooth, showing cait your best asset right away. thanks for waiting until i was done, at least.’

vi scoffs. not convincing at all. ‘the wind has gone down.’

‘we’re in a slot canyon.’

caitlyn sails past the crux, incredibly technical and very calm. it’s unfortunately impressive.

‘nice, cait!’ vi shouts. ‘that was sick!’

caitlyn, to your dismay, pauses after she clips into the next quickdraw — your least favorite hold on the whole route, a terribly chalked up sloper — and turns to give vi a thumbs up.

you groan, long and drawn out, and flop onto your back while vi laughs. you’re no stranger to girls falling all over themselves to impress your sister, but this is one of the few times where one of them has actually been impressive.

when you sit up, a guy who was watching caitlyn climb looks at you and laughs, immediately somehow in on it all, you can tell.

‘i was gone for, like, ten minutes,’ he says. ‘cait already found a new partner?’

‘in more ways than one,’ you bemoan. you offer a fist bump, correct and cool climbing etiquette, not some stupid handshake. ‘that’s vi, my sister. and i’m jinx.’

‘jayce,’ he says, then looks up. ‘is cait cleaning the anchor?’

‘guess so.’

‘i wanted to climb that route.’ he’s definitely pouting, which you never do because it’s extremely undignified, obviously.

‘you snooze, you lose, i guess.’ you shrug. ‘plus, i think they’re both just trying to impress each other. horrible. worst thing to happen today.’

‘i took a whip on slab,’ he says, shows you a scrape on his palm. ‘so maybe second worse.’

‘nah,’ you wave him off. ‘big whips are the best, most fun part of climbing.’

he looks at you like you’re crazy, which, like, you certifiably are, but even your therapist thinks that climbing with vi — and therefore with a lot of gear and safety checks — is good for getting your “intrusive impulses” out without too much danger. could be worse, you always tell her, because it has been.

you don’t let yourself dwell on that, though, not out here on a cold, beautiful day, your hands stinging a little in the best way, the sun sinking just slightly. vi might be annoying and so, so gay, but she’s your favorite person in the world, hands down. for now, it’s okay.

caitlyn calls for slack and then quickly and neatly cleans the anchor, and vi lowers her carefully while she takes the quickdraws out. they’re, like, basically about to kiss, you’re pretty sure, when caitlyn gets to the bottom, before she even unties her knot.

‘that was amazing,’ vi says, full of genuine awe, as if the both of you didn’t also just lead that route. when caitlyn brushes her hand against vi’s — in thanks, you guess — vi blushes hard enough even you can see it. you’re relieved for her, honestly, when caitlyn’s cheeks are the same shade of pink.

and so the day goes like this: caitlyn sails up a run-out slab route vi had sworn off every other time you’d come to the crag, mostly because she’s so strong she hates slab and it’s truly heinous — the best route here, in your opinion — full of mono pockets and the tiniest foot jibs. it’s kind of embarrassing to watch vi tremble her way up, especially after she lets you lead it after caitlyn, but you actually do belay her carefully and caitlyn and jayce both shout encouragement. vi sends it, even though she’s a total baby and asks you to take twice. jayce — also really strong; also terrified of slab, which makes you laugh — and vi convince caitlyn to end on another overhang, exhausting and pumpy, and you only agree to do it too because you know vi won’t care as much if you fall on it. you send it first, take a giant whip off the top that you know vi will be annoyed at you for, but when she lowers you the rest of the way, she just smiles and taps the top of your helmet.

‘you’re getting so strong, jinx,’ she says, the easy, heartfelt compliment making you feel all warm inside. vander and ekko insist that you’re kind like vi, that you share the same big heart, and sometimes you think they might be right.

‘great job,’ caitlyn agrees, happily and without anything underlying, and jayce echoes the sentiment too. all day they’d both asked you thoughtful and caring questions about your studies, jayce especially excited when you told him you were going to school for mechanical engineering, and about your friends, your hobbies, books and music you’ve enjoyed lately.

kindness is too much for you, sometimes, especially when it’s easily given and true, so you duck off and set about pulling and coiling the rope; gathering the rest of the gear split into your packs — vi’s, of course, much heavier whenever you’re in charge.

still, she stops her flirting — caitlyn is talking about how she’s a doctor, or something, and vi wipes her sweaty face with the bottom of her tank before finally putting her jacket back on, then telling one of her bravest firefighter stories — to say, ‘thanks for doing all of this, sis,’ sincerely before shouldering her pack.

‘don’t mention it,’ you grumble, trudging out of the canyon back up toward your cars. the approach is short but steep, so thankfully they’re mostly quiet. but as you load everything up — yours into vi’s old bronco that you’d both fixed up with vander; caitlyn’s into a brand new forester with every “wilderness” add-on you could possibly think of — they exchange numbers with the promise to climb again soon, both indoors and at another of your favorite crags too. you’re sure caitlyn climbs at one of the fancy gyms in town, one that you can only afford a membership to because vi is a first responder and you’re a student, and even then just barely.

horrifically, maybe the worst part of the day, is that caitlyn looks unsure for a moment but then opens her arms, and vi enthusiastically, and softly, hugs her for an amount of time that's way too intimate for having just met a friend at the crag. you’re a nice person after all, it turns out, because you don’t make a single gagging noise. you do catch jayce’s eye, though, and he lifts a brow, fighting a laugh. you duck your head, but it makes you smile too.

they longingly wave goodbye one last time, and then vi glares at you when you start to laugh as she pulls out of the spot and onto the dirt road out of the canyon, flooring it a little more than necessary.

‘hey,’ you say, ‘why are you all —' you motion to her, the furrow in her brow and the downturned corners of your mouth.

she slows down, taking the next turn and rut in the road carefully, like usual. ‘i just — i don’t even know if she’s queer, first of all.’

‘other than, like, her expertise at pockets —‘

‘— jinx—‘

‘— and the fact that she was all over you for, like, three hours, she had a trans flag on her helmet,’ you offer, taking a little pity on vi. ‘and she drives a subaru.’

vi sighs. ‘she’s — i mean, you can tell. wealthy and smart and gorgeous. i’m, well —‘

‘hot and kind and also smart?’

for someone who’s always bugging you about accepting compliments, she’s terrible at it. you know she holds a lot, feels inadequate in so many ways, because she couldn't save your parents, and because she was incarcerated, and because you grew up poor, and because she can't fix everything for you all the time.

‘look, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for you,' you tell her honestly; it's important. 'especially some idiot who wears arcteryx.’

vi laughs; you don’t mention that it’s a little watery with tears.

‘you save people for a living. your muscles are insane. you help me with school, and refilling my meds, and you always pay rent on time, and we can even eat out now, whenever we want. you’ve read, like, seventy books this year. you like podcasts about nature, which i only know because you make me listen to them with you while we drive anywhere.’

it’s quiet — no podcast, not just now — for a minute or two, but then vi nods.

‘i guess you’re right.’

‘i’m always right. i’ve literally never been wrong.’

‘shut the fuck up.’

you laugh, delighted, and put your socked feet on the dash just so vi can swat them off.

‘so, anyway, do you wanna tell me more about how caitlyn being perfect at pockets made you feel, or…’

‘i will throw you out of this car.’

‘you’d never.’

‘i might.’

you laugh; when she pulls onto the paved road you take her hand in yours, lace your fingers together, put on a song you love that she hates. she rolls her eyes but sings along anyway.

#arcane #arcane fic #caitvi #also JINX my baby jinx pov forever lol #idk. they'd just be hot at climbing. jinx would be insane (fond. scary if u were to belay her)#can't explain fully but falling on a run out slab route outside while youre leading is the scariest thing ive ever voluntarily done #so idk its nice to have them do smth kind of kooky & be excellent at it but w no consequence lol. jinx would be nuts tho #cait being trans? a thought also. not fleshed out but make of that trans flag what u will!!

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1000dactyls · 4 months ago

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happy last art post of 2024 i spent it drawing the epic cycle…. Like are you kidding me Who do you think i am (individuals and design thoughts below)

Athena’s curly hair is meant to resemble an owl. In the future I want to incorporate how high and back her helmet sits in ancient art of her. Yes, those are owl feathers! I wanted to lean into her Goddess of War steely (eyed) figure, so focused heavy on large and exaggerated armor with lots of grays. But she’s also the goddess of crafts, so i also added more delicate detailing to her armor and the loops of fabric. Her blue draws on Athenian iconography and also Athens’ naval superiority in Ancient/Classical/Hellenistic Greece. And since the myth of Perseus occurs before the Epic cycle, I thought it was appropriate to give Athena her aegis.

I focused on giving Telemachus a very boyish look since his arc is really about growing into his own, a coming of age. So he has more delicate and refined features than what I imagine “rugged” Odysseus would have. Telemachus wears a signet ring as a symbol of his royal authority. I did debate on if i should make him similarly left handed like his mentor (as well as how i envision Odysseus, given how tricky and slippery he is), but I understand that the ancient Greeks viewed displaying your left shoulder as “barbaric,” which i didn’t think fit Telemachus’s “princely”-ish vibe. I was influenced by most EPIC!Telemachus designs that put him in blue, but i really like putting an edge of red in there as well, both for how striking the blue and red fit against each other and because i think it lends him a more ruly edge that appears in the Odyssey (Telemachus “I’ve never held a conversation in my life, Athena” prince of Ithaca). The blue is supposed to be like the sea surrounding Ithaca, and to make that a bit more clear, i added wave detailing around the top edge of the chlamays. I consulted statues of Telemachus to see what kind of tunic to put him in.

Both of them wear archer gloves (athena on her left hand because i think it would be fun if it she was a leftie but anyway) bc athena is the goddess of war and also odysseus’ patron and telemachus because he’s his father’s son and also bc his name means “far from battle” but can also be read as “fighting from afar” understanding his role in the Odyssey and also how he grew up as consistently unsafe in his own house.

I really like these designs and im excited to draw them more :D

#em.txt #the odyssey #athena #telemachus #epic the musical #epic athena #epic telemachus #my art #pleaseeeee talk to me abt the odyssey or abt epic #this poem (alongside Euripides’ Medea) is why i decided to study the classics after all!!!!!!!#well. that and the fact that im a language nerd. ugh

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dykeyaoi · 2 years ago

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I feel like a lot of fanon tends to miss what seem to be three pretty crucial things about Teru, and it's weird because they are easy to miss, but they're also so important that without them he's very superficial. it's part of why he gets so yassified almost every time he's adapted (see: manga into anime into fancontent)

one is that this kid is smart. on my first watch of his debut arc I assumed he was psychically cheating to be one of Black Vinegar's top students. now though I don't think so: firstly, I'll admit, because he doesn't actually seem to have a way to do that except blackmailing other kids for answers or something; but secondly because throughout the series he's just good at figuring stuff out. he picks up complicated psychic techniques more quickly and frequently than anyone else, including Mob. he was the one who almost beat Shimazaki. he figured out that Psycho Helmet was Dimple from the fact that he was a spirit who knew Teru's name, not a lot of info to go on. he draws conclusions in the somewhat haphazard but very clever way a detective does.

two, he's motivated so much by anger. this one's something of a hot take but it's so there to me that I can't leave it out if I'm Teruposting. before meeting Mob yeah he thought he was special and important for having powers but he was also extremely lonely and subconsciously mad at everyone else for not having them. he's the only one who has to deal with Claw he's the only one who has to live alone because his powers make it dangerous for his parents, he's the only one strong enough to be the shadow leader. he'll do it because he's the Protagonist but god he's gonna be pissed the whole time. it's not what he wants (we only get to see what he wants later with Mob and Reigen and everyone else) but it's all he has for a long time. seventh division shows the intersection between I Should Be Satisfied Now Teru and I'm Better Than These Guys Teru very nicely

last and kind of most important is his thing for Mob. I absolutely believe ONE wrote Teru to be queer and he definitely had or has a crush on Shigeo, but I also think that at least part of said crush is him misconstruing his adoration and the pedestal he's put his friend on. until after the Confession Arc, the two of them getting together would be really tricky and probably not good. Mob still feels bad about what he did at Black Vinegar for most of the rest of season one, and the only reason Teru changed in the first place was because of the cavernous gap in power between the two of them. until he declares Shigeo his rival and realizes that he has faults and any destruction he causes isn't perfectly righteous, Teru can't love him.

there's as much to his character as there is to the other main characters, and I get the easy appeal of the flattened version of him but when he's flanderized into this sparkly gayboy who's also sad sometimes, it makes me sad.

#this has been in my drafts for months it needed to be finished #teruki hanazawa #hanazawa teruki #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #yaoi hivemind #<- they're the reason I added the last point instead of just writing the first two #not to add another character to this post but ummm Shou is also smart #Shou is the pre-planner he's a really good strategist #Teru puts pieces together as he goes & solves problems once they appear #Ritsu's weirdly psychological in his analysis of opponents but it works #and Mob fixes the unfixable #mob posting 100

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rubykgrant · 2 months ago

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Red Team! Plus Doc, Locus and my OC, Poppy!

This started with me wanting to draw a really nice Sarge face... which turned out better than I thought it would (all the shapes in the features look really solid). So I kept going, and because I'm a glutton for punishment, I had to pick tricky face-angles for some of them. Oh, and because I drew these on paper, I used a combination of colored pens/pencils blended, then added a little more high-lights in MS 3D Paint. I used mostly blues and greens (sorry, Sarge), then de-saturated it, before tinting it a warmer tone. Acceptably light-ish red now. Also, I love you Lopez, but I'm not good at drawing armor/helmets...

Sarge is looking forward, with a relaxed expression, and his head tilted slightly (I imagine him being very boxy, with a nose that's been broken a couple of times, a scar above his eyebrow from getting shot, and he still keeps the buzz-cut). Grif is leaning back against Simmons, his eyes closed and smiling contentedly (he's chubby, his double-chin visible, stubble around his jaw and chin, with long hair that is thick/curly and parted in the middle, the area around one eye a shade lighter than the rest of his skin). Simmons is cozy and close to Grif, looking down at him and smiling with affection (he has a defined curve to his nose, hair parted off-center and pulled back into a low ponytail. the left side of his face has cybernetics around his eye/jaw/chin). Donut and Doc are together. Donut is smiling big and bright, mid hair-flip like he's in a shampoo commercial (he has a scar around his right eye/ear from the grenade, and he keeps that side of his hair clipped short in an undercut, the other side flowing longer). Doc is tilting his head back on Donut's shoulder, smiling and giving a wink... which may be from O'Malley (he has a nose with a narrow bridge that is broader at the bottom, and short hair that is very curly). Locus has his head turned, with his eyes closed, with a peaceful and thoughtful expression (his hair has recovered it's more curly texture, a few strands loose at the top, the rest pulled back in a pony tail. the rest of his features are similar to his face reveal from the animated mini-series, but showing that some time has passed). Poppy, my OC, is posed as if she's turning around and glancing over her shoulder, smiling (she has long hair that is swept up across her shoulders, with bangs that frame her face. her features are round and solid)

#red vs blue #rvb

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dahlilalilalia · 7 months ago

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Last Novi Star! Ari Roma! I’ve never finished a drawing of her before because her color palette was kind of tricky. I almost gave up on this drawing, but after a lot of tweaking, I think I managed to make her cohesive. She wears a helmet because she can’t breathe earth air. I imagine she might get sick more than the others, so she covers up more so she won’t be as exposed. Her pose is meant to be a “please don’t touch me!” pose. That’s just my own personal interpretation of her character though.

#novi stars #novi stars fanart #ari roma #digital art #artists on tumblr #lineless art #alien girl

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msfcatlover · 1 year ago

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Death Mask Steph

Oh boy. This is the big one. I've agonized over this, and getting the design right has been... ugh. Nevermind. Here we go.

Death Mask needs to draw on Red Hood and Steph designs. (I would draw from Black Mask designs, but frankly Roman's designs are all kinda boring? He's a skull-head in a suit, and basically always has been; it's simple & effective, but there's not a lot to iterate on there.) Steph's suits tend to be armored one-pieces, but layering is so crucial to most Red Hood designs, that balancing the two has been... tricky.

(I've already shared the Stephanie Brown Costume History page. Unfortunately, the n52 designs page seems to be just descriptions with no pictures, and the page for her n52 appearances doesn't give you many good angles. So here's Steph's "Future's End" & "Future State" designs, as the stand-out missing designs, in my opinion.)

The absolute vital part of any Red Hood inspired design is, of course, the helmet. It's also been the biggest pain. Jason's had some good helmet designs and a lot of bad ones over the years, and (as I've previously stated) finding a full reference page for them is basically impossible. So here's what I'm going with.

Steph starts with a sleek, sculpted black metal base. Say something like this model of Jason's Injustice helmet. The primary difference would be that Steph's helmet opens up at the front rather than the back; the faceplate would be hinged at the top of the head, and it would swing up & forwards to reveal her face.

(Using the Injustice helmet as a base because it more than most looks like it really should open from the front. I'd also say the sides would also be able to open wider, so that it can still fit snug without being a pain to get in & out of. Not that anyone would ever bother to draw that detail, but I think it would look neat opening up in 3 directions all at once.)

Next, most of the face plate is covered by a sculpted skull. This is how she invokes the whole "Death Mask" idea, as well as purposefully stealing Roman's gimmick. Below the teeth are a couple understated tubs & valves, evoking a gasmask---something like this.

(Kinda a Red X look, I'm realizing now that I'm digging through my reference folders all at once... Anyway, this piece seems to be by Laura Sheridan, but her website seems to be down, you can only buy her art seemingly 2nd hand, and I can't find this picture listed anywhere but pinterest.)

The edges, mechanical bits, and any detail work added should be done in copper.

Within the eye sockets are two recessed glowing lenses, like Jason often has, though Steph's glow a dark magenta, casting light that borders on red.

(Obviously, these lenses change size & shape to show emotion through the mask, like you do. They're not designed to---in fact, logically all the bat-masks are designed like this in order to help hide the wearer's emotions---but that's comic logic for you.)

Below the helmet, Steph's suit is mainly made up of reinforced black leather motorcycle pants, a black undersuit, and an armored vest like this.

(But black. Obviously.)

However, she accessorizes. Steph has added a decorative metal ribcage to her armor, as well was plates mimicking a spine. The ribs should be copper-colored, while the spine can be either metallic or black.

(Depending on who's drawing them, the ribs could range from purely decorative to practically another layer of armor. And following the links from pinterest, both of those artists have apparently taken their rib-art down, which is once again very disappointing.)

Steph wears a chunky utility belt which sits crooked on her hips. I personally think it should be black (maybe brown?) with either copper, ivory, or dark magenta snaps/clasps holding the pouches shut (pick one for all pouches, not a mixture). She has a gun holstered on each hip, one on each thigh, a set of throwing knives (3-5) on the front of the belt, and wears her sickle-swords strapped criss-cross on her back.

The swords themselves are made from a copper-alloy, retaining their coppery color, and easily double her reach (are about as long as one arm.) They have a hilt not dissimilar to an Egyptian khopesh, but a completely different blade; Steph's swords have a much more exaggerated curve, and crucially, they're sharpened on the inside of the crescent, where a khopesh is sharpened on the outside. They legitimately look like a crescent moon sickle, stretched out to sword size.

(Khopesh hilt, and genuinely the best crescent sickle sword I can find for what I'm picturing. Steph's would be in much better shape, obviously.)

Steph keeps it understated-but-still-stated with knee-high, buckle-up, black leather motorcycle boots.

(These are mid-calf, but it's the closest I can find that aren't completely over the top. Also, any artist who figured out how to make the laces work without losing the straps would win my unending love for the symbolism of Steph clearly still mimicking her big brother but trying so hard to hide it.)

Steph’s sleeves are armored in black metal plates, ending in sharpened black gauntlets. I don't care much about the specific structure, I just really want that clawed look.

(Shorter would be more practical for finesse work, while longer claws could be worked into her fighting style. I am going back & forth on whether this should be both arms or just one of them, because I’m a sucker for asymmetric designs, but I think it might be a bit too much with all the other details.)

Finally, over top of it all, Steph wears an uneven ivory-colored hooded shawl made of layers of thin, wispy fabric. It hangs down her back to her waist, but bunches up in the front over her collarbones. It's purposefully designed to look tangled & messy, hiding her body shape with all its bulk & fly-aways, and is flimsy enough that grabbing hold of basically any part of it will just leave you with a fist full of torn fabric.

This is the hardest to find examples for, but... okay, so it's shaped roughly like this:

(If anyone can find the non-pinterest source for this one, I'd hugely appreciate it; all I'm getting is a dead twitter link.)

It's layered like these:

And it's made from material like this:

(This definitely gets swapped out for either a white scarf or a brown trench coat pretty regularly, just because those are easier to wrap your head around/draw. I think both could work & be cool, but Steph is trying to give off “undead vibes” with this original costume, and this gives her a more ghostly look which… okay, is heavily inspired by this Jason design.)

Also, Steph's hair is still long, but she ties it up in either a french or dutch braid before going out most of the time. Dutch is for going out in public or to the gym, where she'll lift it off her neck in a ponytail, french then gets coiled into a bun inside of her helmet.

(I am undecided on whether or not she also has an undercut.)

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