#i have so little free time for personal art but. for them. i drew so much today.

[issybee06]

Baby of mine- trust the process final part

Ugh! This terrible terrible man that I love and hate.

Why couldn't you become a cool Dilf like Nolan😔

Soooo I present you with Dilf Thragg the hottest

I saw a post where the artist(I cant remember who but I absolutely loved their art) drew Thragg with Ursaal and Onaan as babies and he had his bigggg hands holding the tiny purple babies AGAHAGSSH AT HS

I think he's hot okay?

Can be read as a Part 3 to trust the process or be read on its own! This is longggggggg, like you might hate me because of his long it is, cause mama is not doing a part 4 sorry kids

Veryyyyyyyy ooc, like I might have created a completely different person.

I give you regretful breeding kink himbo, wife you wants to jump his bones now that she actually likes him, and three pet sperms

🔞

……………….……………….……………….……………….…………

“AH-AH-AH!~”

It was the first weekend without your kids in MONTHS and the second your parents took them off your hands the two of you hadn't left the bedroom.

He had you ass up face down now, moaning and crying into the torn pillows as feathers knit into your tangled hair. He's got one large hand on your hip, the other splintering your headboard, fucking you from behind so well you might pass out from pleasure.

“Oh-fuck-Thragg! Baby pleaseeeee!”

He groans above you, hiking you hips up higher to split you open. The new angle sent you spiraling, eyes rolled back as he leans down to press his sweaty body onto your bite-marked and hickey-painted back. He kisses your shoulder, “come on…you got one more in you, yeah? One more for your Regent?”

He didn't mean orgasms, he pulled 6 from you already from the multiple positions he had put you in. He wanted another baby, you knew that, he has been asking for a while.

With two boys Thragg was very pleased, but one look at Kregg and his newest daughter sent your husband into a girl-dad frenzy.

“Please my life…? Would you give me what I desire-ah…can you do this for me one last time?”

Oh fuck when he called you that? His life? His reason for existing?

You moan, clenching around him as you cum again, nodding and crying, “YES! FUCK THRAGG PLEASE!”

The screaming of an infant awoke the great and powerful Grand Regent, and he groaned into the pillows. He looks over at your sleeping face, a new head wound from you last battle wrapped tightly by him. He was going to let you sleep, you earned it.

He sat up with a sigh, reaching on the floor to pull his boxers on and up before moving to the crib. Big tearfilled eyes looked up at him, and his crankiness vanished.

“Hello starlight…” he whispered, picking the infant up and holding her closely to his chest. She was so little, fitting into the palm of his hand easily as he hushed her softly. He moves back to the bed, mindful of you and the baby girl on his chest.

“Mmm, hey.” you mumbled, and he looks over at you.

“You should be resting, my life,” he whispers softly, pointer finger stroking the babes back as she hiccups and snores softly.

“Can't leave you up alone…” he smiles at you, his free hand brushing a stand of your mused hair from your face. You're beautiful to him, absolutely gorgeous and You had give him everything he could have ever asked for. A beautiful wife, wonderful boys and a sweet little daughter, a new chance at life. He owed you his existence for that.

“You should sleep, I've got her…”

You huffed, cuddling into his side as you pass out, his two favorite girls with him.

“Why doesn't she have hair?” your youngest boy asked, eyes narrowed at the baby in the carrier. Lips pursed, brows furrowed, he looked like his father.

All your children did.

It wasn't fair, his stupid Viltrumite genes trumped yours. When your first boy was born, you were actually mad at Thragg because the baby you carried for 9 months and labored for 5 hours for looked like the guy who knocked you up.

“I hate you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, my life.”

Now, with the third and hopefully last child looking like him too, you lost hope for a “mini me”.

“She has hair, its just wispy.” Thragg spoke, looking way too good in a apron as he packed two lunches for school.

“I had more hair.”

You pinch his ear, “be nice.”

He whines, swatting you away, “I'm just asking a question!”

“Mom, do you know where my homework is?! I left it on the kitchen table and now its gone!” your oldest cried, frantically looking around the house for his notebook.

Thragg sighs, when he first pursued you and constantly asked for kids, he didn't expect the work he'd have to do. He thought you'd take care of it, stupid right? But he literally had no record and couldn't work Inna human setting so he became your reallllll sexy trophy husband.

You work, he keeps house.

Speaking of work…

“Oh shittttt-su. Shih tzu. Like the dog.” Thragg glared at you, and your two boys looked bored. You winced, answering Cecils call.

“Quick, whats the thing that goes around an angels head?”

“Uhhh…”

“Halo! Hey Cecil whats up?…uhuh…right now?”

You sigh, “duty calls…”

That's how Thragg ended up in the tiny car(tiny for him) with his three pet sperms he begged for. The boys were fighting, pushing and shoving and giving Thragg a headache. He loved his kids, yes, but he'd also love for them to be quiet.

“Dad?! When are we allowed to train?”

Thraggs eyebrows raised in slight surprise at the kids question, he knew it would come up sooner or later, but he didn't expect it so soon. He took a moment to consider how to answer the boys.

"Because times are different now then when I was born... your mother and I... we didn't think it was necessary to train you two from birth. You two don't have to be soldier…" He said in a cautious tone, the true reason he didn't want his kids trained is because he didn't want them to have to face the same childhood he did. Bred to be a weapon, he never expected love to ever be in his cards.

Not until he found you.

“Mom told you no…didn’t she?” your oldest spoke with a bored tone.

Thragg's gaze averted a bit as he heard what the kid said, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, he let out a small sigh.

"She did." He said in a slightly low tone, confirming what the kid said. It was true, you had strongly opposed the idea of the kid being trained from birth to be a warrior. At the time, Thragg was angry, but now he couldn't agree more.

“Moms the worse…I could have been cool.”

“Me too!”

Thraggs eye twitched slightly at hearing the kids say that, he let out a small but gruff huff

"You are cool kids, you got my genes in you after all."

He said in a bit of a gruff tone, he knew the boys didn't mean it as an insult, but he still didn't like it when his children spoke ill of their mother. He loved his fiery human wife.

The car stopped in front of the elementary school, and oldest boy scoffed, getting out of the car and slamming the door.

The youngest shrugged and waved with a smile, running off to his friends.

Thragg watched the boys get out of the car, he let out a small sigh as he saw the kids expressions.

"Have a... good day at school boys."

He sighed, looking in the back seat at his little princess and smiled sadly, “ hey baby girl…”

She blows raspberries, looking out the window. A small smile forms on Thraggs face as he looks down at the baby girl, watching as she blows raspberries out the window.

"At least you are pleasant..."

He leaned his chin on his hand, lost in thought for a moment, still thinking about his sons complaints and attitude. The kids attitude was starting to wear on him.

Suddenly, his phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked down at it, seeing it was a call from you.

“Hey baby.”

Thragg can't help but have a small smile form on his face, hearing your voice.

"Hey." He says in a slightly gruff tone of voice, he doesn't want to admit to himself how much he missed your voice already.

“You miss me?” you giggled through the phone.

A small gruff scoff leaves his lips, as he hears you ask that question.

"You've only been gone for a few hours, love."

He says in a flat, yet slightly amused tone. He doesn't want to admit how much he missed you, even though it had barely been any time at all.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He can't help but roll his eyes, knowing damn well that he missed you.

"...maybe a little"

He said with a grumble, he knew you were grinning from hearing his reluctant admittance to missing you already. He played with the baby, large finger waving and entertaining her as she tried to gum on it.

“How were my little crotch goblins?” you snickered and he rolls his eyes again as he hears your giggling, he can't help but let out a small huff of amusement.

"They're fine. The boys are currently giving me a headache with their complaining and whining about school. And the girl is blowing raspberries at me."

“They have names Thragg.” you giggled. He lets out another small huff as he hears you say that, he can practically hear the smirk in your voice.

"Yes, I know they have names. I just find it more entertaining to refer to them as 'boy' and 'girl'."

He said with a smirk, leaning back in the drivers seat, he couldn't help but have a small amused look on his face as he talked to you like this. He enjoyed the way you two would bounce off each other, it made things entertaining.

“Oh how lovely…some children get “baby” or “cupcake” or “champ” but my children get called their genders.”

He lets out a small chuckle, enjoying this little banter he's having with you on the phone.

"Hey, I'm not good at cutesy names, you know that. Boy and girl are good enough for me."He says with a smirk, unable to keep the small amused look off his face as he spoke you on the phone. 

“Okay so ill call you alien.”

He barks a laugh, "Fine. Then I shall continue calling you human."

He said with a smirk, the word "human" left a bitter taste in his mouth, not having used that word to call you since day 1, but at the moment he is finding teasing you too much fun to care.

You burst into giggles, sighing, “okay...hey, I'm gonna meet you and the baby girl at our favorite coffee shop, kay alien?”

"Alright, human. I'll meet you there.” He says with a smirk, the thought of seeing you again makes him feel a mix of excitement and anticipation, he couldn't wait to see you.

You were waiting for them when Thragg walked in, his 6’10 ass having to duck under the door frame. You grin, taking the baby from his arms, holding her and smiling, “ohhh my baby.”

He huffed, slightly ticked off and in a brand new shirt. Tag still on it.

You raised a brow.

"Yes. Your baby. Not mine. Don't forget that." He said with a slight hint of frustration in his voice. He leaned against the wall, watching you coo over the baby.

“She spit up on you didn't she?”

"Yes, she did. All over my shirt."

A small look of displeasure briefly flashing across his face as he remembered the incident, but quickly replaced by an expression of amusement as he looked at you, holding the baby girl.

“Awww, did you spit up on daddys shirt? Did your little tum tum hurt?” you coo, sitting in the booth. Thraggs eyebrow twitched at hearing you say that, he can't help but feel a mix of annoyance and amusement at the way you were cooing at the baby. He sat down across from you in the booth, and let out a small sigh.

"Yes, she did spit up on my shirt. But her little 'tummy' didn't hurt. She's fine."

He said, a hint of irritation in his voice, he was tired from dealing with the kids all morning.

You smirk, “Hey, if I remember correctly someone told me the first time we ever spoke that he wanted an ARMY of babies.”

Thragg's eyes widened slightly as he heard you bring up that memory he had almost forgotten about. He leaned back in the booth, a look of mild irritation, as he remember what he had said so long ago.

"I... I was being facetious. I didn't mean an actual army."

He said with a small huff, his irritation replaced with slight embarrassment.

“You were actually very persistent.”

He glared at you, and you grinned at him. Still a black cat…

“I thought it was cute, In a weird breeding kink gone extreme kinda way.”

Thragg's expression shifted to one of flustered annoyance as he heard that. He let out another small sigh and rubbed his face with his hand, slightly embarrassed by your comment.

"It... It wasn't a 'breeding kink'."

“…you knocked me up first try.” not the first time you two had sex, first time going raw.

Thragg's expression went completely stoic, as he realized you were right.

He averted his gaze for a moment, his embarrassment growing as he was forced to realize that he had, in a way, fulfilled his request for an "army of babies", by getting you pregnant so quickly.

You giggled, taking a sip of tea.

He lets out a small huff, as he sees you start to snicker and take a sip of tea. His expression remains stoic, as he tries to think of a retort to your amusement. But he can't help but feel a bit embarrassed at the situation.

He can't find any words to say, and the only sound he makes is a small grumble under his breath. He can't help but grimace a bit as he sees his daughter gum on the muffin and drool all over it.

He was never one for messes or anything wet and sticky unless it was your puss-

“You like them.”

You say, not looking up from the menu.

He gives another small sigh as he listens to you. He knew you were right. Despite his best efforts to ignore the messy little baby, he couldn't deny that he did have a soft spot for her. He let out a small huff and said, in a gruff tone.

"I suppose I do.." He said, reluctantly admitting that he had grown fond of all his babies, despite how annoying they might be sometimes.

“No matter how gross or annoying they are, remember, they are more you then me.” you smirk.

He can't help but chuckle a bit at your observation. "Yes, they are more me than you. And I suppose that means they're stuck with my annoying and gross habits as well."

“You always were…messy.” you flirt, smirking.

His eyes narrow a bit as he hears you flirt with him. He can feel a slight smirk forming on his face, despite himself

"I am not messy."

“When you eat me ou-”

"Don't. Finish that sentence." He says, his voice taking on a warning tone. He knew where you were going with your sentence, and he couldn't let you finish it in public.

You giggle, “What? We literally have a baby with us, that's like a big banner saying “we fuck!””

He let out a small groan as he heard you say that, knowing it was true.

"Yes. We have a baby. And yes, that does imply certain... activities." He said, his voice growing a little huskier as he looked at you, the reminder of your very passionate physical relationship making him want you even more.

“I can drop her off at my moms…”

“Yes…do that. Check please!”

You two weren't even out of the hallway of your apartment building, lips locked together like horny teens as you both stumbled to the door of your home. his point finger in your pants, rubbing experienced small and tight circles into your clit and he keeps his front to your back.

You moan, fumbling with your keys.

“My life…i will rip the door off its hinges-” “got it!”

You both stumbled in, your back hitting the counter before he picks you up with little effort and places you on it. His hands are under your shirt, palming your breast as you mewl. You were still so sensitive sense the birth of your daughter, so needy for your husband.

“Thragg, get this offensive shit off me!”

“You mean your clothes?-”

“Yes!”

He chuckled, pulling your shirt off, bra, and then your pants. He grinned at you, admiring ever scar, mole, and stretch Mark.

“Do you understand how much you've ruined me?”

You giggle, biting your lip as you watch him strip. He was soooooo delish, so hot and sexy and everyone was always so envious because you bagged this hot ass man. Granted, you hated him at first, but now you don't so who cares? Not you, not when he's stripped down to his boxers and kneeling before you and licking and kissing your thighs…

Yeah, you might love him.

@razoredteeth @thel0v3hashira143 @qxuanii

[whatlurksbean]

Hello! I’ve been reading WLB from some time now, and I am still absolutely loving this comic every time.(on my 4th reread lol) WLB has inspired me greatly along with WC content and (also great!)creations by other creators to the point that I am almost about to script my own comic, with a few scenes that WLB had a huge influence on. Though, I can’t help but be a little overwhelmed when I actually think of creating one, mostly because of the fact I lack the skills to draw comics. Believe me, I am shit at panelling lol. But also l‘m a bit scared because even if I actually end up making my own series it absolutely could end up flopping and that would probably make me lose enthusiasm. I don’t necessarily want to make money out of my comics but rather show others my stories and characters that I love, but I have a history of making and posting oc art just for nobody to watch and kinda giving up.(even though I’m aware of the fact that this happens to practically everyone all the time, it still hurts) The (real)question is if there is some advice you can give to beginner/wanna-be comic artists, and how did you feel when you first posted The Recruit if that’s your first comic. I’m sorry if this sounds like a vent, and feel free to pass this if you want-just know you’re a great inspiration for many people. Stay safe, remember that YOUR well being is number one, and Love from Korea♥♥

Hello! I'm very glad you've enjoyed WLB!

A webcomic can for sure be a daunting and overwhelming thing. Most artists are a one man show, and knowing how to do Every Aspect Perfectly is an impossible task. I think it's important to remember everyone starts somewhere, and it is hard to get better unless you Start.

I mean, the first comic pages I drew digitally looked like this.

The comic lasted 6 pages before I got tired of it, and then I started The Recruit.

(which was over 430 pages long and started and had quite a style/writing change throughout the 7 years I worked on it)

You learn so much by just doing. There are a lot of helpful free resources online now a days to make the learning faster! There are tutorials on how to panel! And I think just reading comics in general is a great source of learning. Pay attention to the things you like (paneling, simplification process, color palettes ) and implement them in your work!

I think it's really important to figure out the level of detail you want the comic to be. I don't think it's wise or sustainable to put 100% effort into every aspect of it. It will burn you out. It's good to consider what level of shading (if any) you'll be willing to do for hundreds of panels, what level of background detail, how many colors the characters should have, and figure out what your focus is.

I've met a lot of comic artists over the years, EVERYONE has a different method or different focus. Creating is not a universal experience!

As for having your work be seen, it is honestly a lot of luck. Back in the day for TR I would just submit to all of the deviantart warrior cat groups and people would find it that way. deviantart groups are pretty dead now so I am unsure if that is any good now.

I personally really think ComicFury is a wonderful place for new artists. It's default page always shows the latest comic, so everyone always has an equal chance to be seen. You can be on the front page every 12 hours (i think, it might be 24..) and with a striking icon and consistent posting, you WILL find people.

It's not the largest site, but it is my favorite for comics.

I do not like the mindset of a comic "flopping." I think it takes time to build an audience. It is very unlikely for people to find your comic overnight, it will very likely take at least a few months of consistent posting to find a few engaged readers. I know it sucks to feel like no one is seeing your work, but it's just something that takes time.

Cat comics do tend to find readers faster though, so if that is your goal, I do hope you find success!

You could also post your updates in comic/art related places, like discords or post panels on bluesky or instagram. really any site or app that posts an image.

I also think consistent uploading is a strong key to building an audience. And to do this, it really helps to have a backlog. Meaning you draw like the first 10-20 pages of you comic (or however many) and upload one or two pages a week. The more your comic is seen popping up on their feed, the more likely people will be to finally click it. I usually do not click on comics I see once or twice, it usually takes a few weeks of me seeing it pop up before i decide to check it out. (talking about on Comicfury to be clear)

Once you've established you are dedicated to your comic, people do not mind if you take breaks. (and if they do, fuck em)

Also, having a community of friends or creators is a huge motivator. Show your work to friends! Share in a community of comic creators! Some things my friends have said to me about my comics has lifted my creative spirit more than anything.

This is turning into some 3am ramblings but to summarize my points:

•Find a style that will work for you to sustain a comic. (do not make 100% effort art pieces)

•Upload on comicfury (great comic site, equal opportunity for new comics) (I would also cross post to other platforms and link back to CF as a primary comic site)

•Work on some pages in private, so you can upload consistently once you begin your comic! (I would update daily for maybe a week and then switch to weekly pages, just to get the best chance of being seen + consistent posting. so that would be good to have at least 10 pages of backlogs. 7 for the first week, plus 3 weeks of backlog at that rate)

and the point most dear to my heart;

•Don't be scared of change.

I know a lot of folk wait and wait to make their comic until they are perfect artists or writers, but like, you'll never make anything if you wait for that. Change is so natural and normal in webcomics, in all art really. I think if you shade for 10 pages and decide you hate it, it's okay to change how you shade or drop it entirely. Change your art style. Change how you panel pages. Change how you do backgrounds. Change anything and everything you want. Enjoy the process and tell the story you want to tell.

Best of luck on your comicing journey, I hope you really enjoy it.

[bjarkanart]

So... I did a thing because, man, y'all are wild! The response I keep getting for my silly take on a meme is insane and I appreciate every single like and reblog, you have no idea. So I made it into a wallpaper for my phone and thought "hey, maybe I should share it with my fellow critters?" So here it is!

Also, I don't know if it's weird to use your own art as background on your phone or whatever but I personally do when I'm actually happy with something I drew so, I edited it a little bit to make the picture extra warm and soft and comforting to look at... but it's only for smartphones at the moment. It's not exactly high quality either since it was edited on my phone using Snapseed but it gets the job done, y'know.

I'll probably try to make it a proper illustration at some point without the funny little texts here and there cause I kinda feel bad for keeping Pâté out of the picture but hey, I need my daily dose of Imodna and I got the little guy tattooed on the side of my calf so I'm good but y'all might wanna see him still, right? 😂

Anyway, let me know if you'd like to see a text-free version of the whole thing? Oh and maybe I'll add Imogen's scars this time around, I had a few fics in mind where Imogen probably doesn't have the purple scars and left them out for this so, just a thought.

I'm gonna stop rambling now, don't mind me, and thanks again for the crazy feedback, it means a lot!

[nyuufruit]

and we're up to date! no more old art today I drew a new OC. here's a little backstory for them too:

A unique creature concocted by a distant iterator, a mixture with a slugcat in an attempt to have an overseer that was more intelligent and capable of understanding complex things. Imbued with the curiosity and investigative documenting impulses of any other overseer, but the independent mind of a slugcat, the experiment after long enough found themself wandering outside communications range of the iterator not to be seen again by their maker.

Their body composition made of a lightweight and uniquely translucent material, eyes and whiskers identical to that of a typical overseer. They quietly but swiftly follow their own little mission through the world, making use of projected holograms and images to sometimes distract and guide other creatures as they avoid physical confrontation. It's been a long time since their last routine maintenance, so their neural networks have been free to drift and adapt independently. They might act a bit strange, with a personality of abnormal quirks, yet their memory retains full integrity. Still recalling every moment they had spent with their iterator, holding onto their given name, "the Nonpareil"

[darkmagenugget]

Hiya! I'm Ashe! One of the main fronters of the DarkMage Nugget System, runner of of this account, and main artist! Fennec kitsune/shapeshifter as well. (She/They) Welcome to the DarkMage Nugget Tumblr!

Creator of Hyper City (With extra lore from friends and Aqua) where a lot of my friends stories are taking place. You can find my commission info here and are open! I do character art, emotes, and more!

System Intros after the break!

Allow me to introduce the rest of the system.

Iris- (She/Her)

Iris is the host of the system. She has her own blog here ( @iristhedarkwitch - 18+ only). She is the witch of our system, and also the current host. Specializing in transformation spells fictionally, and energy manipulation in practice. One of my girlfriends as well. And Aqua's girlfriend too.

Aqua - (She/They)

Aqua is the writer of our system. Also has a blog of their own over here ( @nuggetofthesea ). She is an elf with (currently) 3 forms. A base, a sea, and a shadow form. She is the one responsible for most of the lore in Hyper City, and is usually the calmest of us and just loves hanging out by vibing in the room. Also girlfriend. Also dating Iris.

Chaos- (She/Her)

Chaos is a gremlin. Is always interested in things that are high-energy and fast paced. She plays games on stream on fridays at 4:00 PM Pacific. She is also the most direct of us (Though speaks a little rough) and able to put things bluntly and deal with scenarios we wouldn't be able to otherwise. She can by hyper, but cares greatly for everyone in the system. Usually spending time with Aria.

Mira - (She/They)

Mira is the organizer of the headspace. A crystal fairy who is able to duplicate herself up to up to 30 of her at once, she manages the entire headspace and the thoughts and memories of system members. Keeping the memory archive as a collective reference for us to go back to. They do tend to be able to handle multitasking better than the rest of us, but tends to stay out of the front unless she is needed (or wants to troll us, because when she enters the front we all see what she sees. All 30 of what she sees at once). She keeps everything organized.

Aria - (She/Her)

Aria is a puppy. She's just a big strong puppy. She is the sweetest person in existence. She can't really communicate well verbally or over text. But can communicate through images, emotes, barking, and through me or Chaos. Would protect anyone physically if needed, but we try to not have that be needed. She is too sweet! If she shows up, give her headpats. She absolutely loves them. ^-^

Nova - (They/It/Fae)

A trickster fae that has found its way into our system. Rarely calls anyone by name, and speaking with a scottish Accent, they are playful and tricky. But likes to fly free. Bound to it's "Little Fox" (me) in terms of willing to listen her, but will chime in at any time it wants. So if I ever speak with a scottish accent, that's Nova.

Nero - (Any Pronouns)

Nero is a chao. He is basically a Construct made by Nova in our headspace, and exists in here basically as an emotional support pet. But he is here. Initially a chao I just kept drawing with me in drawings for years, when I drew Nova with them it liked her so much that it decided it wanted him in the headspace. They like desserts and are often seen with different animal parts.

Star - (She/They)

Star kind of just showed up in our headspace randomly one day. She is a very sweet and polite bunny cat, and new to existing. Not quite sure what she likes or doesn't yet, but is always willing to try things to figure it out. They are going to be frequently in front with Ashe, Iris, Aqua, and Chaos.

And just some more examples of my character design work. These aren't part of the system (As far as I know) but are still characters I use often.

[shivunin]

A Caged Rook

For day 4 of @veilguard-appreciation-week, Determination, here is a piece about Rook and Spite (before he was Spite):

(Rook Ingellvar/Spite | 2,605 Words | CW: Confinement, references to end-of-game spoilers in the last section)

“Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—” —Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven”

Not all the spirits in the Necropolis stayed there. 

Some were permanent residents; some had been there for time immemorial. Some, like Determination, were only passing through. It had borrowed this shape to see the place as quickly as possible; it was determined to feel this place for itself, to understand why so many flocked here.. 

It had not accounted for Mischief. 

No amount of struggling had freed it, and it thought that something in the body might be damaged. Its wings ached from beating them against the cage (pain—that was an odd thing. Determination had not felt it before and it did not like it now) and one of the joints seared him with a sharp pain whenever he tried to move it again. 

Mischief chittered at him, bobbing before the cage, and shrieked off into the spirit-rich shadows. Determination screeched after it, for the vocal cords of this body seemed to work just fine. It would peck and claw and get itself out. It would shriek and call until someone came to help. It would—

“Poor thing,” Grief said, hovering before it. She wore a body, too, though hers was bony and dripping with cloth. 

Determination cawed at her and pecked at the nearest of the fine bars, doing little to free itself. It had wanted a break from the restless currents of the world. It had not wanted a cage. 

“To seek such freedom and find oneself penned up instead—to beat your wings against constraint and find no relief,” she sighed, the sound whistling through her ribcage. “You are a tragedy, my friend.”

Not Tragedy, Determination, it told her. Grief tilted her head. 

“I understand the distinction,” she said. Without another word, she rose and swept away. A dim fog swept after her, swirling in her wake. 

Come back, Determination called, but the spirit was already gone. 

A flicker of something brushed through it, an impulse that both was and was not itself. That spark of feeling wanted to say, you are never good for anything, Grief, and you never have been. 

But the spirit had no time for that sort of sentiment, so he pushed the thought away. 

Determination curled its claws around the bars and tilted its borrowed head back, pecking higher along the tarnished copper. This place felt very old, and sometimes old things had weaknesses it could exploit. There was always a way through. Its very existence was predicated on this knowledge: there was always a way through. 

“Oh no, look at you,” a living voice, filtering through the hum of the spirits who passed. “Mischief again, I suppose? Give me just a moment there, I’ll have you free in no time.”

She crouched before the cage, pushing long hair away from her face. Determination let go of the bars and peered at her, tilting its head this way and that. There was something in her—if it had been in the Fade still, it might have seen it a little better. It could not think of that while it remained trapped here. It cawed at her instead, flaring its wings until they ached again. 

“You see?” Grief said, drifting back into view. “I knew you would be able to do something.”

“Sure enough,” the elf said lightly, and lifted something that hummed with the Fade. “It’s simply done. Do step back, please. I don’t want it to hurt you.” 

Determination huddled away from her on the opposite side of the cage, feeling the burst of fire-fire-fire-cold that erupted from her tool. A strange thing, to feel it here; it had never been beside a person while they drew from the home of spirits. It was like looking at something once familiar, now made strange. A warped version of something it thought it’d understood well.

It might have considered the thought further, but the cage opened with a screech of metal and it was freed at last. 

“All right, then?” the elf asked. “Can you take off on your own?”

These wings do not work, it told her, balanced on the edge of the open door. It tried again to open them, but they would not unfold properly as they had when they’d carried it here. 

“It says the wings are broken,” Grief told the elf. 

Not broken, Determination corrected, strained only, and stepped onto the elf’s finger when she offered it. Some instincts came with the body; it fluffed its feathers out and shook them back into place again, creeping along until it had perched along the edge of her wrist. Her bones shifted under its feet as she stood and turned toward Grief. 

“Not broken, it says,” Grief related. “Perhaps it is strained.”

“I can take you to the aviary,” the elf offered. “They will be best able to take care of you there. Give you some rest so you can go on wherever you were headed. What did you say it was called?”

Determination, it said, as Grief echoed the same aloud. 

“Well then,” her cheeks widened, teeth glistening between slightly parted lips. A smile; it had seen them from a distance before. A strange thing. It wondered how it would feel to make one. It had never had a face of that sort before. 

“You’ll come out alright in the end, won’t you? I can tell.”

Determination recognized then what it’d sensed from inside the cage. Like called to like after all; if it had been on the other side of the Fade still, it might have imitated her or taken a semblance of her shape. Here, it gauged the distance between her hand and her shoulder. If it spread its wings slightly, if it glided just so, it would land—

“Oh!” she said, holding very still. “Sorrow?”

“I believe it wants to stay with you,” Grief said. 

“Ah,” the elf said in response. “Well. I don’t really know what a bird eats. Will it still need to eat?” 

“You know how to find the answer,” Grief said. It turned away as if to leave, then paused. 

Grief reaches forward and backward, she told Determination, speaking as only spirits could. You are a tragedy. I am sorry for what will happen to you and all the pain it will cause. 

You don’t know anything, Determination told her, touched again by that distaste which was at once itself and not itself, Don’t you ever get tired of weeping over headstones?

With no further ado, Grief turned and slipped away into the mist again.

“Well then,” the elf said, angling her head as best she could to look down at it. “Nice to meet you, Determination. I’m called Lenore. Not the most descriptive name from a spirit’s perspective, I suppose, but it’ll have to do. Let’s get you to the aviary. Maybe someone will have answers there. You’re welcome to stay with me until that wing’s healed, or to do whatever you please if you’d like to go. I think some of the more experienced Watchers can speak to spirits directly if you ever need.”

Lenore. She was right; it wasn’t a name that meant anything. Still, Determination tucked itself against her neck, felt the warmth of her beating heart, and thought itself very fortunate to have been found by her, of all people. 

|

The other mortalitasi candidates for the Watch started calling her Rook sometime in the second week of caring for her new charge. 

Lenore couldn’t say it was the worst nickname she could’ve been given, but she didn’t know what to think of it otherwise. She’d promised the spirit she would care for it as long as its wings healed, which meant carrying it on her shoulder from seminar to seminar. It also meant long nights sleeping on a couch in the library instead of going back to her flat, but the discomfort hardly mattered. She spent most of her time in the Necropolis library anyway, and the roommate she’d been assigned by whoever made housing assignments had shown no signs of wanting to be friendly so far. 

“I did think you were a crow,” she confessed to Determination one night in the second week. She poured a handful of seeds onto the desk before her and watched it peck at the pile. 

“I read a book about it later. Not that you’re really a rook, of course. I wonder why you picked a bird. Is it the moving faster? Some other quality you like?”

Determination fixed one dark eye on her, cocking its head slightly. 

“Both?” she asked, and it made a soft noise before going back to the seeds. 

Determination was a good companion, she’d found. It didn’t bring with it the cloud of sadness that Sorrow did, didn’t make her feel as distractedly excited  as Curiosity. She would miss it when it went back to whatever it’d been doing before, she thought, and shook herself from her thoughts to return to the paper she’d been drafting. 

A week later, it woke her from the nightmare of the closet, the crack of the door against her nose. It’d pecked at her until she woke, throat raw with the scream she’d held back. Once she’d stopped shivering, it’d combed its beak through her hair until she dozed off on the library couch again. In thanks, she’d taught it how to play a solitary card game. She thought achievable goals might be good enrichment for it in the way that new and odd things were enrichment for Curiosity. Hours of watching it peck at the cards with increasing focus had her laughing so hard it gave her a headache. 

Happiness was an odd thing; she hadn’t realized until then how foreign it still felt to her.

One morning, near the end of the third week, Determination spread its wings and flew away to a nearby shelf. The two of them froze, looking at each other, and she’d known immediately that their time together was coming to an end. 

“It’s not that I’m surprised,” she told it gently. It had landed on her hand again, as it had when she’d first freed it from the cage. “I knew it wouldn’t be forever. Perhaps I’ve just grown fond of you. You are very good company, you know.”

Determination peered up at her. She wished, as she had a thousand times, that she could speak to the spirits. She wished she could know what it was thinking. 

“Do you want me to take you back where I found you?” she asked at last. 

The spirit settled itself on her shoulder, which was answer enough. She’d taken to tying her hair in a loose tail so it could do just that. She supposed, somewhat miserably, that she could go back to leaving it down again after today. 

She remembered precisely where she’d first seen the poor creature in a cage, but the Necropolis seemed reluctant to let her go back. She rounded the same section of the Memorial Gardens three times before she finally crossed her arms and peered up into the gloom. 

“I’m dreadfully sorry to ask, but can you please let us go where we’re trying to go? This spirit is not amongst our dead, but I would like to assist its passage nonetheless. Please allow me to help it in this way.”

Reluctantly, a nearby hedge peeled back, revealing the walkway she’d known was there.

“Thank you very much,” she said, and patted the nearest headstone soothingly. 

Nobody was entirely sure why the Necropolis did what it did; some theorized that it was like some giant, slumbering thing and the rearrangement of its halls were merely the stirrings it made in its sleep. Lenore had always rather felt it was more like a beleaguered parent, trying to steer all of its quick-lived residents away from their certain doom so they could go on doing what they were supposed to be doing. She had little evidence to back up this theory, unfortunately, though not for lack of trying. 

“I do prefer it here,” she told the rook, slipping away down the narrower path. “You picked a good spot to stop. I don’t know how much you can smell, but the scent of the flowers is soothing, and it’s a bit quieter than the higher halls.” 

She paused before a familiar tomb, tracing the markings in the cool marble. Ingellvar, the engraving above the gate said. She smiled up at it and turned away again, only a handful of steps closer to the drop-off into the deeper Necropolis. 

“I do hope we see each other again someday,” Lenore told the spirit. 

It turned its head and took a lock of her hair in its beak again, tugging lightly at the strands. Preening, the book she’d read had called it. She’d wondered how much of the behavior belonged to Determination and how much was instinct borrowed from its body. She’d had no way to ask, but she wished now that she’d looked for the answer a little harder. It seemed important to know, somehow.

Before she could think of anything better to say, it leapt from her shoulder and vanished into the deeper shadows of the Necropolis. 

Lenore rested before the precipice for a long time, but she did not hear the sound of approaching wings. At long last, she had no choice but to turn away and go back to the routine she’d had before she’d fetched it from the cage. 

In time, the memory faded against the sharpness of newer, more vital things, but Rook never forgot the spirit entirely.

|

Many years later, Spite opened his borrowed eyes as Lucanis’s consciousness faded into sleep. 

Rook slept pressed against them, bare skin to bare skin. He could feel her heartbeat where they touched, could hear the soft whistle when she breathed in and out. Blue light danced against her skin, a refraction of the water in the tank behind them. A very old memory stirred, dim and belonging to something that was both him and not-him at the same time. 

Slowly, he lifted a scarred hand and took a lock of her hair between forefinger and thumb. The hair was silken and smooth. Rook had washed it as soon as she’d come back to the Lighthouse, but she smelled of Lucanis now. Well—Lucanis and himself, ozone and coffee overlaying the sweet rotting-leaves scent that clung to her skin no matter what she’d been doing. He breathed her in and let the hair slide from between his fingers, soft and slow. 

Today, he and Lucanis had reached out and drawn her from her confinement. 

He did not know precisely why—the memories did not belong to him, had been stuffed away somewhere he could not touch them anymore—but pulling her from a cage had settled something deep, deep inside of him. Spite could still feel the hum of that satisfaction, that rightness now, as she slept in their arms. 

He almost remembered a wish that they would see each other again, the swish of wings spreading wide over a vast abyss. He almost remembered, but then what did memory matter? 

Spite tucked his face into the crook of Lenore’s neck, tasted the salt clinging to her skin, and breathed the scent of her in with all the force of his borrowed lungs. 

They had found her, and he held her now. What else could possibly matter?

[underdark-dreams]

Hi! I love your Rolan fics so much!! If you’re still accepting ideas, may I request one where Rolan & Tav slow dance together? The two of them just finding their own little corner away from everyone and enjoying a close moment together. Thank you! 😊

Rolan x fem!Tav

Starlight

"Happiness suits you." Sometimes a moment alone is all you need. After the Battle of Baldur's Gate is past and the dust has settled, Rolan and Tav find the steps forward.

Tags: Slow Dance, Fluff, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.5k [Read on AO3]

The high society of Baldur's Gate had its own kind of dance, and Rolan found that the steps came quite naturally to him.

He had always been made for nights like these: the main floor of Ramazith’s Tower filled with lords and ladies of the partriar families, a sea of color and chatter and pure power in one room. All of them here at his invitation.

Rolan had scarcely gotten a moment alone the entire evening. He’d expected curiosity about the new Master of the Tower, but the sheer quantity of it took him aback.

For all their influence across Baldur’s Gate and beyond, it had come as a surprise just how little these people knew about Ramazith’s Tower and its various inhabitants. Evidently many wizards were territorial creatures who hoarded their lives and their knowledge far away from prying eyes. His previous master certainly had been—even with his own student. Ramazith’s reputation was even worse somehow.

It was a legacy Rolan had no interest in continuing. Knowledge had its own kind of magic; when shared, it only multiplied. To his mind, it was also a misstep to ignore the influence that came along with the role of archwizard. He had just as much of a role in Baldurian politics as he would have to research and educate in the arcane.

Once the dust settled after the great battle for Baldur’s Gate, Rolan put his plans into action. Tonight was the first step toward change. Gathering the high families, opening up the Tower to those outside the magical arts—it was at least a start.

Yet even Rolan found himself tiring of it all after several hours of introductions and political discussions. He had retreated with wine in hand to watch the fete continue from the upper mezzanine. There was only one person left in the room who he really wished to speak with, and he found it challenging to get the timing right. 

For the umpteenth time this evening, Rolan found himself searching the floor for Tav. Even in this sea of people her figure drew his eyes as if she had him enchanted.

After months of only knowing her dressed for combat, it was unexpectedly charming to see her dressed in finery. It suited her. Her dress was cut in a simple but elegant shape, with a high neckline that flowed all the way down to the hem brushing the tops of her feet. 

The dramatic detail was in the back: a large keyhole opening which displayed a very generous glimpse of skin from her shoulder blades down to the curve of her lower back.

Rolan found himself continuously distracted by that patch of bare flesh. Throughout the evening, occasionally in the middle of conversation with a council member, his eyes had been drawn to Tav from across the room. He felt it every time she turned her back to him, and he wondered whether she had any idea what she was doing.

But she was in even higher demand than himself this evening. Unsurprising to anyone who knew her role in saving their city from the precipice of disaster. So far he’d only managed to exchange a few glances with her from across the room, though each time she had offered him a warm smile.

Rolan’s fingers nervously adjusted his own lapel. He’d changed his dress for the evening as well; his new robes were light, fine silk stitched with gold trim. Fitting attire for his new station in life.

It was an odd sensation to finally be free of the metal apprentice’s mantel that used to rest over his shoulders. He felt lighter, less encumbered—and strangely exposed because of it.

“Itchy, right?” 

Cal appeared at his shoulder, tugging on the collar of his own dress tunic. He must have interpreted Rolan’s fussing as discomfort rather than nerves. A misunderstanding Rolan was content to let him continue in.

“Enjoying yourself?” Rolan asked dryly. From Cal’s squirming, he’d already guessed the answer.

“Hardly,” Cal muttered. He gave up with his shirt and took a long drink from his goblet instead. “I barely know any of these people. Well, there’s Alfie, but she told me off for trying to talk to her.”

Rolan glanced to the small platform along the far wall below. Alfira had been almost unbearably gleeful when he’d asked to hire her musical talents for this evening. But to her credit, Rolan had to admit that she was the picture of professionalism where she stood. The gentle stylings of her lute floated to fill the spacious room around them.

“Of course she did,” Rolan told his brother. “Tonight’s important for her too, you know. Rich people always have children who need music lessons.”

Cal let out a sigh. “I guess. It’s just weird having things change so much. Tav’s still okay, though,” he added.

To Rolan’s annoyance, his brother prodded an elbow into his side. “She looks nice, right?”

“Fine. Quit it—” Rolan shooed the arm away with an irritable hand.

“Have you talked to her yet?”

“Too busy,” Rolan replied. It wasn’t quite a lie. Despite himself, he cast another glance around the faces below. Tav’s was currently absent from the crowd—he hoped she hadn’t left for the night.

“Sure,” Cal replied knowingly from beside him. But he only drained the last of his wine and turned to leave. “Just don’t wait too long, yeah? You might be busy forever.”

Rolan didn’t deign that with a response as the younger man made his way back down to the party. Cal was right, and he found there was an anxious buzzing between his ears because of it. With Tav currently nowhere to be found, Rolan decided it may be best to gather his head while he could. 

Quietly enough to not attract attention, he slipped up the stairs and out onto the wide circular balcony. A welcome breeze ruffled through his clothing as he stepped out into the starry evening. Passing through the vaulted doorway was like entering a connected but distinct new realm; the sea of voices behind him faded to a soft hum. Only Alfira’s music carried clearly outdoors and into the night. 

Rolan leaned his free hand on the cool stone railing. The peaceful air soothed his mind—he hadn’t realized that a headache had been steadily building behind his skull from hours in a room full of echoing voices. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for the invite tonight.”

Just as he’d relaxed, Tav’s voice made Rolan start. He finally caught sight of her leaning against a stone pillar to his right—her dark gown must have camouflaged her. Rolan hoped the low light had made his fluster just as unnoticeable. 

Gathering himself, he lifted his wine in her direction. “I’d be remiss to leave out the hero of Baldur’s Gate from such an event.”

Tav pulled a face at the name, but she approached with her own goblet in hand to join him at the railing. “Don’t you start,” she warned playfully. “I got enough of that inside. Had to come out here for a rest from it.”

“Not much I can do to help on that score, I’m afraid. A lot of people will be grateful to you for a long time.” Rolan watched as she settled beside him, then turned with her to look down at the cityscape below. 

From this height, the lamp flames formed strings of luminous pearls through the streets and alleys of the city. A flock of distant white sails waved in the harbor; trade ships waiting like slumbering giants for the return of first light.

“Nice view,” Tav remarked in approval.

Rolan glanced sideways at her face. For one insane moment, he considered parrying that into a compliment on her appearance. She certainly deserved one tonight. But he maintained his grip on sanity, and resisted.

“So—” Tav tilted her head to meet his eye. “How’s life in the Upper City?”

Rolan knew Tav’s expressions well enough by now to suspect she was teasing a bit. “Busy,” he answered truthfully. “So much more than I expected.”

“Everyone’s certainly curious about you,” she agreed. “If there’s one thing lords and ladies can’t resist, it’s a new face in society. This was genius, by the way—” Tav gestured her wine glass back at the gathering inside.

“Is it?” Rolan was skeptical. “It seems like the obvious move to me.” 

Tav grinned at him. “That’s what makes it so genius.”

The conversation lulled for a moment as they stood looking out over the quiet city. Rolan found that his initial nerves at being alone with her like this were melting away. Speaking with Tav was comfortable; even silence with her was comfortable somehow. Rolan was the first to break it.

“What about you? What will you do now?”

She sighed down at the view below. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’d like to stay in Baldur’s Gate if I can. Too many friends here to think about leaving.”

During the pause that followed, Rolan wondered if she counted him among them. He found it was very important to him that she did. Before he could decide whether to ask, Tav continued.

“I did get a few promising job offers tonight, if you can believe it. Including one from Lord Jannath to join his private council. Or maybe that was a euphemism,” she added.

“He’s a cad,” Rolan said immediately.

“Oh, I’m well aware of Raylen Jannath’s reputation. And I’m sure it’s entirely deserved.” Tav looked over at him with a glint in her eye. “Don’t worry. I’m no wide-eyed babe.”

“No, you’re not,” Rolan agreed. His jaw clenched with annoyance nevertheless. “But you care about doing good. Some people will always try to take advantage of that.”

“I’ll just refer them to my friend the powerful archwizard, shall I?”

Rolan exhaled a sharp breath of laughter and tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped at her choice of words.

“You’re always welcome in this tower,” he told her. “If nothing else, I hope you know that.”

Tav regarded him for a moment. The hand holding her goblet swirled the liquid inside in a thoughtful motion. “You’ve changed a lot, you know.”

He was curious what made her say such a thing. “Have I?”

“Sure you have.” Tav’s eyes still moved pensively over his face. “Back when we first met, you didn’t seem…” She searched for the word. “Well. Interested in most of the others from Elturel. And now look at the community you’ve built. Alfira tonight, helping Dannis and Bex get their teashop funded. Even Dammon says you gave him an open contract for any metalwork anywhere in the whole Tower.” 

“You’ve been talking with Lia too much.” Rolan heard the defensiveness in his own voice, but he couldn’t help it. Something about the way Tav was looking at him made his face warm.

“I’m just saying it’s nice,” she finished with a gentle smile. “I always thought you had a bigger heart than you let on.”

“Yes, yes,” Rolan drawled as he raised his goblet. Tav gave thought to his heart—that revelation required wine.

“Remember that night at the Grove?”

Rolan looked at her over the edge of his cup. “That party at your camp, you mean?”

So casual, so unpracticed—as if he didn’t think of that night often.

“Alfira played this song,” she continued.

Rolan had to pause for a moment to focus on the melody floating out to where they stood. When his ear caught the tune, he shifted on his feet. “Ah.”

He knew where she was going with this, but Tav still went on. “Danis and Bex started pairing people up, and I’d already had far too much wine…so I went on and asked you for a dance. Remember?”

“Yes.” Rolan felt a sudden urge to hang his head. 

Tav’s eyes were shining with amusement. She gestured her glass toward him in an expectant motion, as if giving him his cue. Rolan let out a very reluctant sigh.

“And I told you I wouldn’t be caught dead dancing in such an uncivilized place,” he finished.

“I believe the term you used was ‘common,’” she chuckled. “You always did have a way with words.” But then she glanced down to the drink between her hands. “Actually…it was a bit disappointing at the time.”

Rolan’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Tav looked back up at him as though he’d grown another pair of horns. “Because I wanted to dance with you, Rolan. Why else?” She shook her head as she turned back to the view. “Wizards, I swear…not everything is a riddle.”

Rolan considered her words, considered Tav where she stood beside him. Before he knew what he was doing, his fingers were reaching for the wine glass in her near hand. She allowed him to pluck it carefully from her grip; her face was a mask of puzzlement as she watched him set their drinks aside on the flat of the stone railing.

Rolan turned back to her. “Let me make it up to you, then.” He extended a hand toward her palm-up.

Tav cocked her head at him. The corners of her mouth twitched as if she thought this might be some kind of joke. For a moment Rolan felt every bit the fool, standing here with his empty hand outstretched. 

Then her fingers raised to brush across his. “Deal.”

He almost certainly had this backwards—weren’t the hands supposed to be the other way around? But there was no time to think about that now. 

Tav took a step closer, her long skirt swinging against his legs. She clasped Rolan’s forearm where it hung at his side, guided it around behind her waist, and then laid her other hand against his shoulder.

The cutout in the back of her dress resulted in Rolan’s skin meeting hers a second time. His mind had somehow neglected to prepare for that; for a few seconds it took all of his concentration to keep his movements smooth and controlled.

Tav began swaying in time with the distant music, just a gentle step side to side and back again. Rolan followed her lead. 

“Is this right?” Tav asked. With her face upturned to him under starlight, she looked somehow younger than her years and experience.

“I don’t know,” Rolan admitted. His head was too full of other things—the softness of Tav’s hand in his, the disorienting curve of her back under his palm, not to mention trying like hells not to step on her. “I’ve honestly never done this before.” 

“Oh, come on.” Tav’s expression relaxed again as they swayed back and forth together. “No sweethearts back in Elturel? I find that hard to believe.”

When was the last time you touched someone like this? Unwelcome, embarrassing, the thought nevertheless sprang to Rolan’s mind. It was certainly longer ago than he cared to admit. Then again, maybe he’d never touched someone quite like this.

“No one like you,” he decided.

At that Tav only chewed the inside of her lip and gave a thoughtful hum. Whether she sensed his discomfort or whether he’d embarrassed her himself, she didn’t ask for details. He was relieved as the subject drifted away, replaced by the distant lute song and the soft rustle of her skirt as they moved. 

After another quiet moment, he felt compelled to speak up again. “You were right before, you know. I have changed.”

“Oh?” Tav looked up at him with curiosity. But she waited patiently for him to continue. Rolan was grateful for it; finding the right words took some thought.

“I suppose I've learned that pride and arrogance aren’t the same thing. Lorroakan taught me to see the difference. As did you,” he added. He swallowed against the discomfort of vulnerability. “I was so damn arrogant then…but I wasn't proud of myself. Not really. You helped me find how to be.”

Tav’s eyes moved back and forth between his as she listened. “Then I’m glad for it. You have a lot to be proud of, Rolan.” 

An odd mixture of feelings rose in his throat; he felt humbled and pleased with himself all at once. It was impossible to put into words. Rolan only bowed his head slightly to her, and the space between them lapsed into a comfortable silence once more.

After a while, the dance relaxed into something more casual. Alfira’s lute had taken up a different tune back in the main hall. Their steps no longer kept time with the music now, drifting along with each other in a new rhythm instead. Her hand had migrated from the side of his shoulder to let her wrist hang limp by his collar. 

As they swayed together in silence, Rolan felt her fingers carding absently through the ends of his hair.

When he caught her eye, Tav’s hand stilled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he told her. “It’s not unpleasant.”

For some reason that made Tav laugh. “There you go again. ‘Not unpleasant.’ Can’t you just say something’s pleasant and have done with it?”

Though their stance was still a bit awkward, something about having her in his arms made Rolan bold. He looked straight into her face. “Then allow me to try again. You look very beautiful tonight.”

Tav’s lips parted in surprise for a moment. Then she glanced away to the side, and Rolan saw a flush of color rise to her cheek.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “So do you. Handsome, that is,” she added in a rush. “Happiness suits you.”

She had a knack for saying the most perceptive things. Right now, finding himself abruptly launched to the peak of his life’s dream, with the people he cared for safe and provided for, Rolan supposed that he was happy. All the more for the person holding his hand.

“Are you happy, Tav?”

She turned back to him slowly. As she did, her fingers happened to brush against his neck again, sending a shiver up Rolan’s spine that had nothing to do with the evening breeze around them. 

“I am,” she murmured. “Right now…very.”

For the first time tonight, Rolan became aware of just how near her face was. It was tilted slightly up to meet his, and the angle happened to leave a clear path to her mouth. It would take only the smallest movement to close the distance.

And without thinking—just for once in his life—he did. 

As he tilted his head toward her, Rolan felt Tav’s hand curl behind his neck to pull him gently forward. Their lips brushed together soft as a whisper, but the sensation ran through him clear as the ring of a bell. His fingers splayed against the warmth of her lower back, pressing her figure in closer against his own— 

“Rolan, we’ve been looking ev—”

The two of them broke apart as if jolted by electricity. Tav wheeled away, face entirely hidden and one hand clasped up to her mouth. Rolan rounded on the doorway.

“What?” He blurted out.

Cal stood there frozen in place, mouth agape, his eyes flicking back and forth between Rolan and Tav. The air between the three of them was filled with enough raw awkwardness as to make Rolan’s skin crawl.

“Nevermind,” Cal said hoarsely. “It’s—they—nevermind.”

He swiftly turned on his heel and retreated without another word, leaving the two of them standing alone again on their balcony.

But the comfortable atmosphere was gone. Rolan had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He squeezed eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing a guttural sound to rise straight from the depths of his chest.

“We’ve been alone out here for half an hour—” A few steps away, Tav’s voice was choked with laughter behind her hand. “And the second we even try to—”

Rolan worked his eyes open to glance at her. Her shoulders were shaking with amusement, causing the end of her statement to dissolve helplessly.

“This isn’t funny,” he told her weakly, even as she turned back to him and wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes.

“No,” she said, biting her lip against a fresh burst of laughter. “It’s absolutely hilarious.”

Rolan passed a hand over his face with a groan. “Once, just once, I wanted things to go right with us.”

Something in the phrase quieted Tav’s laughter. Rolan met her eye then, sure she must see how mortified he was—but found a look of delight spreading across her features.

“Us?” She raised her eyebrows at him with a smile.

Rolan could only let out a defeated sigh. “Do I have to say it?”

Tav tried to look like she was seriously considering things, but she couldn’t quite fight back her smile all the way. “Not tonight,” she allowed. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”

“Thank you,” was all Rolan could say. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs from the most confusing swirl of feelings.

They looked at each other for another long moment, communicating a dozen different things without a word.

“Well…” Tav moved forward once more to loop her arm through his. Close beside him, the starlight shone in her eyes. “Shall we go in then, Rolan?”

[hero-of-the-wolf]

This is for the lovely @la-sera , based on this comic here. I really admire your art, and you're such a kind person, so I wanted to write a little something for you :) I hope you like it!!!

Hyrule wasn’t a squeamish person. He couldn’t afford to be with his line of work, but even before he’d taken up sword and shield to fight for his beloved land he’d never been one to shy away from the reality of death. He’d do all in his power to spare the people of Hyrule from it, whether they appreciated it or not, and in turn administered it to every fell beast and monster that plagued his home. That was simply what heroes did.

And so battle after battle, with his eight new brothers in arms, he strove to help in every way he could. He knew that he wasn’t the strongest fighter, but he could hold his own in a fight well enough, and he had spells that the others didn’t know. Hyrule pulled on his magic now, jumping up over a moblin to slash at its head. It roared in outrage, clumsily swiping at him, trying to snatch him out of the air. But Hyrule was faster. He landed and, using his momentum, spun around to thrust his sword through the monster’s back. With a dying gurgle it collapsed at his feet and exploded into black smoke.

This particular battle had been especially brutal. They’d already been low on healing supplies when they’d gotten ambushed, and it’d only gotten worse from there. With no more red potions or fairies, it was all down to Hyrule and his magic.

He rushed to Wind and Four’s sides next. He couldn’t linger for too long trying to catch his breath; the others needed his help. The little pirate had been shot, felled by an archer’s arrow. Already Wind had tears shining in his eyes but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

“I can’t move my left leg,” he rasped, his voice shaking from the force of the surpressed emotion. “Does my leg have to be amputated? Like a pirate—”

“You’re already a pirate, Wind,” Four chastised gently.

Hyrule looked over the wound. The arrow was still firmly embedded into the sailor’s calf, blood slowly oozing out and dripping down his leg.

It could have been much worse.

“No, your leg doesn’t need to be amputated.” Hyrule held out a spare rag. “Here, bite this.”

“I’ll draw this arrow on the count of three,” Four added. “Ready?”

Wind nodded, a traitorous tear finally leaking free.

“One.”

Hyrule leaned forwards, waiting for his cue.

“Two!”

Four swifty pulled the arrow free. Wind flinched back, a startled cry tearing from his lips. Hyrule wasted no time, placing his hands against the puncture wound and summoning his life spell.

It didn’t take much magic to heal. When he was done Wind smiled at him gratefully, the color already returning to his face. Then he shot a glare at Four. “You could have waited till three.”

Certain that Wind was okay, Hyrule tuned out their conversation and turned his attention back to the battle around them. Four could handle it from here, the traveler’s help was needed elsewhere. The others weren’t faring much better, either.

He caught sight of Warriors next, sitting on the ground and clutching at his shoulder. As he drew closer he realized that the captain was bleeding heavily. He had his scarf pressed tightly against the wound, trying to stem the blood all by himself.

He looked up as Hyrule knelt at his side, his gaze glassy and unfocused. “You don’t… need to heal me, Rule.”

“I want to help you,” Hyrule insisted, reaching out to gently pull the sullied blue cloth away. That would be a hard stain to get out, he knew from experience.

“ ‘s too much… blood….”

Hyrule gently shooed away the captain’s resisting hands. “I don’t mind. Now let me see and heal your shoulder, before you lose more blood!”

Warriors finally relented, letting his hands fall limply into his lap and closing his eyes. Hyrule placed his own hands against the wound as gently as he could, closing his eyes as well and summoning his magic again.

There was so much blood. Hyrule wondered how long the captain had been bleeding, unwilling to call out for help. He resolved to be more observant in the future. None of his brothers would suffer needlessly, not if he could help it.

He’d barely even mended the wound back together when he heard a pained cry ring out across the field. His head snapped up, searching the chaos until he found the source of the noise. The champion had fallen, his body a reddish heap on the ground. Legend stood over him, not letting any monster get too close.

Warriors saw it, too. He squeezed the traveler’s arm in thanks. “Thank you. You’ve done enough.”

Hyrule nodded, squeezing his arm in return, before rushing over. Legend turned at his approach, relief washing over his face. He kneeled down with Hyrule, pulling Wild up into his arms.

“What happened?” Hyrule asked, assessing the damage. He could feel that familiar exhaustion already pulling at him, a clear indication that he was quickly running out of magic. He ignored it.

“Wolfos,” Legend panted. “Can you heal him?”

“Of course.”

Hyrule reached for the wound, summoning his magic yet again. Slowly, the flesh knit back together. Hyrule poured in every last drop. The wounds were deep, but he had enough to do the job. He had to.

Once he was satisfied that it was fully healed the traveler leaned back, his head swimming.

Legend noticed immediately. He reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle. “I have a green potion for your magic.”

Another scream. The sound of it sent Hyrule’s heart racing, every hair standing on end, before it abruptly cut off. Then there was the muffled thud of a body hitting the ground.

This battle wasn’t going well for them at all.

Hyrule accepted the potion gratefully, tipping it back and drinking the whole thing in one go. Then he rushed over to where the sound had come from to find Twilight cradling Time’s body. Hyrule’s breath caught at the sight.

“Time, why did you protect me?” Twilight was crying. He placed his hand at the back of Time’s head, pulling him closer. Blood ran down the side of the old man’s face, nearly obscuring it with crimson red. “No, Time! Open your eyes! Please, do-don’t leave me….”

It was hard to tell from a distance whether he was even still alive or not. That wasn’t going to stop Hyrule from doing what he could.

“I’m ready,” Hyrule panted, sliding to their sides. Twilight’s head snapped up at his sudden appearance, looking almost comically surprised. He reluctantly pulled back, letting Hyrule lean in to assess the damage.

Hyrule pressed his fingers against Time’s neck, ignoring a nearby clash of steel against steel that was far too close for comfort. The old man’s pulse was sluggish, but still strong. He turned his attention to the wound next. Head wounds were always tricky, but he knew that he could help.

He could feel Twilight’s eyes on him as he worked, watching with bated breath. The rancher always worried so much, but he seemed to especially lose his composure whenever Time was the one that was injured. It was hard not to wonder why.

By the time he’d finished healing their appointed leader and finally pulled back the battle around them had fallen silent. Hyrule got up, looking around once again. He spotted the chosen hero standing a ways away from the group, still heaving for breath. His tunic was steadily growing red, but either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care.

Hyrule marched over to the knight. “Sky! Let me heal your wound!”

Sky held his hands up placatingly, giving Hyrule a reassuring smile. “Oh, no need, Hyrule. I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

Ignoring his words, Hyrule reached out to poke around the wound, trying to gauge how bad it was. Sky immediately collapsed into a heap on the ground, gasping in pain.

Hyrule went down with him, placing a steadying hand on his back and frowning in concern. “Your wounds are deep. This can be dangerous if not treated immediately.”

Resigned to his fate, Sky didn’t resist as Hyrule finished off his magic, mending the wound back together. He gave him a grateful smile when he was done, one that the traveler gladly returned.

The battle over and everyone taken care of, Hyrule stepped away and let himself sit down roughly on the ground. His brothers were all okay.

He needed a nap.

The others set up camp around him, chatting quietly, the sound a pleasant hum washing over him. One by one each of the others came over, leaving gifts. Twilight’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth, potions and milk and even an entire apple.

Hyrule got to work cutting the apple up into smaller pieces, struggling to stay awake, his eyes nearly crossing from the effort of keeping them open. He lifted his head from where it'd started to droop and resolved to himself to go to sleep after he finished eating the gifted fruit.

“Ouch!”

A sharp prick immediately brought him back to his senses. He stared down at his finger uncomprehendingly, nicked by his own knife.

Bleeding.

He was bleeding.

He yelled, drawing on the very last of his magic to heal the meager cut. Too close. That was far too close.

He felt eyes staring at him. Hyrule flushed, turning around to see the rest of the chain’s attention fully on him.

“You… okay, Rule?”

“Yeah. Yep.” He pulled the cloaks hanging off his shoulders tighter around him. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Legend waved him off.

One by one, they went back to their conversation. The traveler looked back down at his apple, his ears bright red.

Hyrule wasn't a squeamish person. With his line of work he couldn't afford to be. But the sight of his own blood… the sight of his own blood had always made him feel sick. And knowing now that it was cursed too….

It was best not to leave his cuts unhealed, no matter how small they were.

[orsis-academy]

Hello! i really love your baby Maul, i have seen your art before, but your recent updates are really gorgeous!!! I was wondering...would you like to draw 14-16 year old Maul? I barely see fan arts of him as a teenager and i would really appreciate it! I have this hc that around his "high school" (late teenager years) Maul is already consumed by the dark side, but at the same time, he's going thorugh his rebel teenage phase where he can't do much, but he tries to make himself independent from Sidious by making his own decisions. The only way he can express that freedom is through his style, and Maul begins to adapt a style of clothing a little more inspired by Dathomir and the nightbrothers/nightsisters clothes. For example, his exercise uniform combined with a necklace (similar to Savage's made by Talzin, or Merrin's but more masculine) or a totem with an engraving similar to the relics of the nightsister's. Black arm sleeves, or a single arm sleeve accompanied with a bandage of red cloth with embroidery similar to the ones the nightsisters had in CW. Tunics, side tunics like Viscus used. He's just trying to find a look that makes him look different and edgy. Later on, Palpatine He scolds him for that, demands that he forget his culture because he is now a Sith, and Maul switches to his long robes (we see on TPM). Something like when they adopt children from other cultures, and white families force them to forget their roots instead of letting them explore their home culture and personality.

I was so nervous to do a request that I put this in drafts and forgot about it. My bad bestie! Since it's a bit old now, I updated it. The first one is the latest drawing, the other is from 2022 (aaaaahhh so long ago XP).

I drew inspiration from Savage's village outfit. I free-handed a protective talisman. I like to think that Talzin gave it to him as a gift before they went their separate ways on the space station. He isn't sure if he really believes in all of the Nightsister magic stuff just yet, but he kept the talisman, as it's the only thing he has that connects him to his heritage.

Thanks for the suggestion! I enjoyed drawing this, especially the second time around lol. I hope it was worth the wait.(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧💖

Side note: he looks kinda goofy on the bottom of the new pic lol

[24hrsoda]

BAT AU FAQ (?)

i get a bit of the same questions so i’m gonna try to post some kind of list of answers and hopefully this clears stuff up

is jason a vulture or a turkey?

jason is a vulture. often times in media vultures are depicted as grumpy guys with bright red heads and it reminded me of red hood.

what kind of bird is Dick?

dick is a raven! most people seemed to guess correctly which is nice

what kind of bats are bruce, cass, and damian?

i actually don’t know lol. i just drew a few cute shapes and stuck some ears on them! if you know more about bats than i do (i know next to nothing) feel free to imagine whatever you’d like! there’s no right or wrong answer :)

what is alfred?

alfred is a human! i see him as some kind of caretaker to bruce and his babies! like the old lady from the aristocats

where is duke/steph/babs/other character?

i’m not sure if i should include everyone or what they’d be…

i’d still say i’m fairly new to comics (longer under the cut)

i’ve only been in to dc for about 2 years and have only read the current batman run as far back as the joker war! most of my reading is from anecdotal mini runs, or just seeking out my favorite characters and hopping around from different runs to skim a book or two, and reading what i can find in spanish in physical form.

my knowledge of some of these characters and their personality is limited to none (still learning.) they may not be included in some aus art or writings i make because i don’t know enough about them to know their personalities or what i think “fits” yet

mostly because DC fans have been pretty unforgiving when it comes to batman’s extended universe 😅 asking about their relations to bruce have given answers like “go read a comic” (which is fair) to more harsher things, being called stupid, racist, misogynistic, the r-slur, etc and accused “erasing” character history/family by asking if they are bruce’s family or kids . if i explain i don’t have that knowledge, i’ve even been told i just shouldn’t talk about them if i don’t know anything about them.

i’m sorry if your favorite character doenst get drawn, or is drawn as an animal you don’t like. you are welcome to say what you think they’d be or make your own drawings, i’d be happy to see it! i just don’t have the energy for people to fight with me or each other about what they think is right or wrong. i do this all for fun in what little free time i have 😭

[fanganfessions]

This is a personal thing but I have to get it off my chest. Most fangans have bad character design that prioritizes emulating Komatsuzaki Ruis style over anything else.

Often times fangan designs look worse because the lighting for them is flat, there's no unified color palettes between characters. The cast often looks like they were designed separately from each other and lack cohesion. I think a lot of the designs would look better if the artist drew them in their own art style.

remind me of v-tubers in that they're overdesigned, it feels like every character wants to be the main character. (Funny because most of Drs main characters are pretty basic) A lot of Drs designs can actually pretty basic when you break them down, even if a character is overdesigned there's still often a silhouette or shape to latch onto, look at how many people simplify Junkos design.

As for fangan character designs I personally like:

Super Danganronpa another 2, Danganronpa 4k, Edens Garden, Konran:Zanki, Kill cure, danganronpa rebirth, I've seen very little from danganronpa "rest in peace" but everything I have seen is amazing.

Again this is just a personal ick not an objective judgement of character design/appeal. I also understand that these projects are free so I don't expect professional level quality, and if the product is free then the artist should be able to add as many bells and whistles as they want! They have a right to make their sparkle dogs and I genuinely don't want to shame anyone for enjoying these designs. However this has been eating away at me and I needed to get this off my chest.

⠀

[ohcorny]

Wooooo okay! I put together a LONG list of alt text requests. I tried to narrow it down a bit, but it still ended up being a lot.. so feel free to pick and choose from these if you don't wanna do em all!

56, 59, 121(emery's expression in the fifth panel had me like O_O), 125(i call this one the umbrella parry), 148, 159-163, 175, 178, 212-215, 229(reminds me of that one gif from cinderella 3), 248

oh boy. cracks my freakin knuckles. i did them all because i'm a crazy person. also there's a bit of concept art in here too. have fun reading along.

56: i genuinely don't know what emery thought wick was doing to aamir. i think he just wanted an excuse to yell at him.

59: demonstrating wick's Special Vampire Technique of turning into a bat and a mist at the same time to pass through cracks. people do not use 'vampire can turn into mist' enough. i use it as much as possible.

121: emery would have been fucking Doomed as a modern teen with access to youtube. we have to accept this about him.

125: i picked up "sling your hook" from peaky blinders, which is set in birmingham. i'm not sure if it's something they also say in the black country and it would be really funny if i got that wrong on This page.

148: it's a sign of how good i am at keeping the reader going along that the book has been out for a month and nobody has asked 'did she just not check in the first class dining area for the guy who works in the first class dining areas'

159: i really enjoyed working with the When Things Are Fucked Up brush in this scene because it's so loose and rough and gestural.

160: love my paneling on this page. i'm the best to ever do it

161: THAT TWINK STINK

162: finally. wick's hair is down. cute wick is here.

163: there's nothing actually wrong with pleasance she just refuses to engage with the story any longer

175: wtf how did nobody ask for this yet. anyway. you would not believe how many times i had to insist the carmilla joke would work. my editor was Convinced nobody would understand what wick was saying. buddy that she's a gay icon is the only thing ANYBODY knows about carmilla.

178: "nobody can get in without waking me" wick lied, lyingly.

212: in my original thumbnails honeycutt wasn't going to be saying anything in the panel with him just smiling. it was going to be a beat, and then "but i'm a forgiving man" and i kind of wish i'd kept it like that.

oh but also this was one of the first and very few moments that i actually drew before starting the comic.

hadn't quite landed on how the end of the book looked yet

213: "lovesick little botfly" is, i think, 70% of the reason i gave emery the last name botwright. the other 30% is that it means boat maker.

214: weirdly salient to wick's arc, honeycutt, despite this being the first time you've ever interacted with him directly

215: AND IT'S NEETA WITH THE STEEL PIPE

already did 229 here

248: narrator voice: he would live to regret that

[theyapper0]

Litte details abt my Hazbin rewrite that i wanna share :)

OK SO!!! IT'S DOOOOOONEEEE!!!!!!

So I FINALLY finished drawing out everything I wrote out for some major plot point in my hazbin rewrite 😋 BUT!!!

There's some things that I have made art of or talked about that are sorta important (but they're really not, just some silly things that I pictured in this that I never got the chance to talk about yet LOL!!!)

If you don't really care, feel free to skip this but there are some little doodles here too that will basically get all my points across just as well!

-So first point, I've touched on this a little bit here but Niffty and Husk are BROS. Like fr ride or die with each other.

In this rewrite, I want Niffty to have been an overlord like Husk (or at least just as powerful as he is because I feel like Alastor is EXTREMELY attracted to power and he wouldn't just make deals with weak as shit people unless he was gaining something GRAND).

But Husk and Niffty, they both.... really hate Alastor. I think Husk is much more vocal with his hatred towards Alastor but do NOT be fooled, NIFFTY WANTS HIS ASS IN THE GROUND TOO!!!!!!

And I think it's because of this hatred, because of this shared, unfortunate situation that they've both found themselves in in regards to being contracted to the Radio Demon, I think they are really close. Like, they look out for each other and watch each others backs because who else is gonna do it? ALASTOR? LOL!!!!

-Here's my Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb designs!! I realized when I was making all those drawings for the rewrite that I never drew them! So here they are! 😋

Pentious has prosthetic arms that he made himself not too long after he arrived in Hell YEARS AGO bc I wanted to REAAALLY lean into the whole snake thing. And I also made him more steampunk-y because I think it's cool and that he'd look super adorable with little gear markings on his scales

And I read that Cherri died in around the 80's so I wanted to give her an aussie rocker look LMAOO Wild hair, big ol' hoop earrings and tattered clothes because she's COOL!!

-Niffty is the (m)hotel's maid/rooms keeper still (and it was only SLIGHTLY degrading in the beginning). The biggest reasons Alastor made her the maid is because of her OCD (he's an old man from the 1930's, he thinks OCD means being a neat freak) and because she is able to control all kinds of insects and vermin- which the hotel is INFESTED with

Niffty is also the only one with a spare key to Charlie and Vaggie's house, she's honestly the one they trust the MOST out of everyone at the hotel to have a key to their place in case of an emergency (and she only abuses it SOMETIMES)

-HUSK IS NOT THE HOTEL BARTENDER IN THIS!!!!!!

When I designed the hotel to look more like a motel, obviously there was no place to put a bar and I WANTED THAT! Like, I understand the humor in having a bar in a rehabilitation facility (it IS REALLY FUNNY I KNOW) but I really don't think that, even in this, neither Charlie or Vaggie would allow Alastor or Angel or anyone else to tell THEM what the hotel needs.

Like, they LITERALLY built this place with their BARE HANDS, I think they're both verrrry resistant to any changes and such that others may want to implement (for both the good and bad), even if that person was THE Radio Demon

So instead, Alastor had brought him in as a sorta bodyguard for the hotel (as a huge middle finger to Vaggie, who is not only the hotel manager but also is a very ready protector of this place)

(Husk DOES still sell liquor though, like that is something that is totally happening, it's just very hush-hush. He keeps it in his room and sells it to the patrons of the hotel (sometimes Pretentious and most of the time it's just Angel. Charlie and Vaggie have no idea this is happening))

(Niffty 100% knows since she's the one who cleans the rooms but she wouldn't sell out Husk because that's her bro)

-And speaking of the Radio Demon!!! Neither Charlie or Vaggie are scared of him. I mean, they're not really scared of him in canon (they could be sometimes tho ig)

Charlie is one of the strongest beings in Hell and Vaggie is (secretly) an angel who, as far as they all know, can't be killed by a Sinner. So neither of them are really threatened by him. Vaggie definitely voices this more than Charlie does, in fact, Charlie is almost always more than happy to just let Alastor talk and threaten as much as he wants because she's not violent and is very humble (that's what good people do, right?)

Alastor is also just as good of a Facility Manager of the Hazbin Hotel as he is in canon, and by that I mean he does not do his job and when he does, he sucks at it LOLLLL. He is very unhelpful.

-Sundays are the only day where the hotel isn't doing any reformative work/lessons so it's everyones' day off (it's holy day AMEN!) 

(Charlie WOULD make them pray on Sundays if it wasn't for the fact that every time she would try to guide a prayer, she would bleed from every hole in her body) 

-AND THE LAST POINT IS....

The Hazbin Hotel doesn't JUST do lessons in goodness, they also teach about the 10 Commandments and go on “field trips” to do volunteer work (soup kitchens, cleaning parks, helping Hell with one smile at a time :)

Thanks for reading and be sure to check in tomorrow for the first page of a comic retelling Charlie's meeting with Adam in episode one!!!

[italian-pastry]

More smiling critter traditional doodles! Yahoo!

This is the post that includes content abt some Smiling Critter OCs of mine (and a pinch of DayNap if you're willing to work for it), so if you only want Canon Characters (and me) and AUs, you can check out this post for more!

Anyways I could not be more excited to introduce the world to CatNap's mom and DogDay's dad, Molly Mouser and Salty SeaDog!!!! There is so much of them and references to them under this cut PLEASE admire them

Oh my goodness the lore that lives in my brain of these two. Fun fact they were originally conceived of specifically for a Pirate Au hence Salty being. in a Pirate outfit. but I loved them so much they broke containment and joined my personal Canon. Salty stayed a Pirate tho. bc I love him <3

Both of them are supportive of their sons being gay, but did they have to be gay specifically for the child of their ex-best-friend-now-really-weird-grudge-thing???? Now that's crossing a line Molly: And what if they get Married, huh? I can't be your in-law! Salty: They're kids, Moll. Aren't they too young for all that? DogDay: Dad, we're in our 20's. You already had ME by the time you were my age. Salty: ... Salty: MOLL WHAT IF THEY GET MARRIED??

YAAAAYYYY the first solid designs of my babies and also the first drawing of DogDay's MOM Miss SunnyDay Spaniel!!!!! My gorgeous wife whom I love. Everyday I fight like hell to make Salty and DogDay more and more identical, like those lazy Disney kids where they're just a copy of their parent. The SeaDog-Spaniel family is literally just the "AND HE LOOKS LIKE HIS STUPID DAD" meme. Also Miss Molly, she's supposed to be pure black, a proper Void Kitty but I thought that'd be boring to color so she gets to be disproportionately over-rendered compared to everyone else here (Above Salty's head): He needs to touch the SEA!! (Above Sunny's head): Literally Mother (Above DogDay's head): Yippee! Short comic above Molly's head: Catnap, signing: Mom, meet my new friend :] Molly: *Immediately knows whose fuckass kid that is*

Quick rule of thumb! If Salty has piercings in his left ear, he's being portrayed Pre-Bestie-Break-Up with Molly (and likely pre-Dogday too lol). He and Molly had that "Not romantic, not platonic, but some secret, more sinister third option" thing going on and Sunny was along for the ride. In present day, he has a bite taken out of his ear where the earrings used to be Left side (Salty, Molly and Sunny in the 'Our third ->' 'Not with them' '<- Our third' meme) Right side CatNap, signing: Did you fuck my mother, Captain SeaDog? :))

Oh boy I've gotta break this down into sections. Can y'all tell I REALLY LIKE Salty yet..... Across the top Since I very purposefully designed Salty to be very visually similar to DogDay, sometimes I'd get jumpscared by DogDay fanart that drew him just a little scruffy and I'd think "OMG SALTY????" but no. Just Scruffy DogDay. I broke it down the difference best in the Top Right, DogDay = Round, Salty = Pointy! This does mean I have a lil collection of DogDay fanart that makes me think of Salty. Free OC art 🥰🥰🥰🥰 Those two squares in the middle Just me playing around with some "storyboards" for a hypothetical episode of the hypothetical Smiling Critters cartoon that lives in my brain that Salty appears in! As you can probably tell (tucking hair behind ear) he is not cast in the best light 😌😌😌😌 M. Middle bottom? The pencil drawing with Salty Another running gag from the aforementioned hypothetical Salty Episodes. Just needed some random member of his crew to yell at so uh, hello Basic Racoon character named Rocky :/ Along the bottom Smiling Critter relative height chart! The fact they ended up boy-girl-boy-girl WAS completely accidental Bottom Left Corner YAYY MORE SALTY!! This time with some lyrics from Captain Gutt's song from Ice Age 3 'Master Of The Sea'! It is because of that song that Salty sounds like Peter Dinklage in my brain

I don't think DogDay minds appearance based comparisons to his dad, but kissing your boyfriend is probably one of the times you really don't want him thinking abt your dad. DogDay you've gotta keep up with shaving more often DogDay: Goooood morning! Mwwaaaah! CatNap, signing: Good morning to you, too, but before you kiss me again, you really need to shave. DogDay: Uhhh alright, but why? CatNap: ... DogDay: You can tell me anything, Kitty. I promise I won't be offended. CatNap: *sigh* CatNap, signing: If you let your scruff get too long and kiss me, it ALWAYS feels like I'm being kissed by your DAD. CatNap, signing: DogDay? DogDay: 💀💀💀

[sky-ivylight]

Would it be possible for you to make a guide to the shapes you use when drawing vessels and other hollow knight sillies? 🥺

I absolutely adore how you draw them and I've been struggling with anatomy recently so I just wanted to ask

HI! Thank you so much for requesting this!

I have a few main points on drawing in the Hollow-Verse, but I think it's important to remember that many characters have unique head shapes, body types, and textures, so the tips I give for the Siblings won't translate to all other hollow knight characters. That out of the way, here's...

-KEEP THOSE SHAPES ROUNDED The pointiest parts of Ghost's design are its feet, and the ends of the cape. The base-design is actually very round, while still being mostly made of squares. I keep my edges at the hands, feet, ends of the cloak, and tips of the horns, but everything else is soft!

-THE OVERALL SHAPE LANGUAGE Squares

-GHOST CUBE GHOST CUBE Ghost's head is a rounded cube. You can tell based on not only the overall profile shape, but also because of where the shadows fall on plane changes. So, to begin drawing your ghost, first draw a cube! If you can't draw a cube, draw a square! It shouldn't be perfect, they're supposed to be rounded so make sure to shave off those corners! Add the eyes (two ovals) on the side you want the face to be, and erase all other lines inside the box, and round the edges. I like drawing the eyes a little farther apart than in-game, i just think it's cuter.

-HORNS Ghost's horns are at almost at the plane change from the side to the top of the cube-shaped head, and follow a slight curve. Personally, I like lowering the connection point to the middle of the head, it just makes more sense to me when I draw. ♥To draw them, first draw an oval around the thickness you want the horn to be, then draw 2 lines from each "edge" of the oval so you find the center. Draw a line from that center-point upwards until you reach the desired size. (you can also skip this step and simply put a dot in the center if you're based and uncucked, but sadly I am cucked and unbased, so I draw the 'X') ♥That line you just drew is the center-line. Follow its curve from the topmost and bottommost points of the oval, then erase the middle. Ta-Da! A horn! ♥If you're drawing from a 3/4 angle or more, FEAR NOT! You can repeat the process, just mirror the curve you made on one side. ♥If you're drawing from the front, mark where you want the center of each horn to be and free-hand that curve! Repeat on the other side, and use the same principle as above to draw the outside edges, then erase the middle! You should have a lovely horned fellow now! :)

-CLOAK Ghost's cloak is something i actively choose not to draw accurately. This is because I'm impatient, and the in-game cloak isn't very complicated, but its movements are difficult to replicate in my specific art style, so! instead of over-complicating matters, I just draw it as a squared-off cloth. That's about all there is to say about that, because I don't have the time or energy to fully explain cloth today (sorry!), so moving on toooo....

-BODIES The bodies of Hollow Knight characters are almost always partially or wholly concealed by cloaks, so it's important to get the shape language right for the parts we *do* see. ♣Feet and hands are always pointed, I like making them more bug-like (though ironically I have a morbid fear of bugs, so what I really mean is more segmented, and with small nubbin digits instead of fingers/toes) ♣Bodies are trapezoids or rectangles with narrower necks and wider hips. This leads the eye up toward the head/face/eyes, while maintaining the weight distribution of the character. I replicate this effect by shrinking the heads, lengthening the bodies, and adding more detail in the face. THis keeps the center of attention where I want it to be.

AT LAST we put all these tips together and tada~! A Hollowed Knight! :)

-BONUS HORNET TIP Hornet's head is basically an oval with another oval cut out of it. Many artists squash her head so she's rounder, but whether you squash her or not, a partially consumed oval is what she remains.

Hope that all helps! Have a good day <2

[jojo-ker06]

The people have NOT spoken about this one, but still, here is:

✨️WoaS Asha Lore✨️

(The first WoaS post of 2025!)

Costumes and Hairstyle:

Asha is the character in my rewrite with the most outfit changes. The outfits are there to show that I can't stop drawing outfits, it's become a problem her character has changed.

Her outfits in Act 1 (plus her cape):

(Outfit for outside) (Outfit for inside)

Her outfits in Act 2 (plus the cape):

("At All Costs" Dress) (Act 2 Outfit)

(Two sneak peeks to other outfits. The one on the left is for her transformation dress, the other for a scene in the epilouge.)

Just like her dresses, her hair will also reflect her character growth, becoming more open the more the story progresses. Here you can see little sketches I made that show her different hairstyles.

(I drew this one just for fun. I might use it in the epilouge or maybe not. But I thought I could show it to you anyway.)

And for those who were (probably not) wondering, yes, I did take inspiration from these pieces of concept art.

I personally like the orange/red/pink colors here more than the purple dress they ended up giving her, but to each their own.

About the Character:

Asha is creative and loves to draw. But she has not alot of time drawing what she wants to draw, for she is almost always busy designing royal invitations. You see, everytime new people arrive to become citizens (that happens times almost every month), the royals celebrate everyone's arrival with a party at the end of the week. It is for this party that Asha has to design and draw all of the invitations for. But it's not that simple because her parents (espacially her dad) are perfectionists and so they are very picky. Asha usually has to come up with 10 designs before her parents are happy with one.

Asha has three different sketch-books, two of which she hides from her parents:

One for all the drawings she does for her parents,

One where she writes and draws plans and ideas down for when she's queen, (She rarely shows it to her parents)

And the third one is her diary. In that she writes all of her feelings. Shr mostly writes about how left out she feels: She's barely in any of the royal family portraits and she's not included in the statue of her family that stands in the city.

She does try to talk about it and while her parents do listen, they don't seem to take it seriously, saying things like that 'a princess shouldn't seek so much attention from others' or that 'she's too young' and that 'she needs to prove herself worthy first to deserve a part in the statue. Her parents clearly earned it because they fought in war and rebuild the kingdom, but she didn't do anything like that'.

So she tries everything to make her parents proud of her: She wears what they tell her to wear (her entire act 1 wardrobe is chosen by her parents, but not the cape), she draws what they tell her to draw (even if it means that she needs to draw behind her parents, and not next to them), she stops talking when her parents think that she talks to much. She even refuses to eat, just so that her father will finally be happy with her appearance.

But everytime her parents hug her, aknowledge her birthday (there were a few times where they did not celebrate it because of the "welcome-parties" that I mentioned earlier) or when they tell her that they love her, she finds new hope and believes that, one day, all her attempts will finally pay off.

During the run-time of the movie, Asha learns (with the help of her friends) to break free from her toxic parents, to fight for herself and others and that she is more than her parents made her herself think to be. She also discovers something that could potentially change her entire life forever...

-The End- I hope you enjoyed reading this!✨️

Tagging Time: @starss-artss @spectator-zee @rascalentertainments @your-ne1ghbor @dangerousflowerpanda