#its incredibly hard for me to draw or even work on my ocs at times because of how constantly distracted i am

[munch-mumbles]

vent in tags againnn

[wewerebornsextuplets]

idk how but you draw in the Oso-san style so good i need to know your secret please

HAHA thank you very much!! im glad you think so :D unfortunately im not very good at explaining how i work, but ill try my best to show what i mean!!

once again this is long as hell. you know the drill at this point

to be honest, half the battle i fight with drawing in the osmt style is just. Looking at it. the ososan art style actually fluctuates pretty wildly depending on what you're looking for, whether that be the mobile games (for instance, tabimatsu and hesowars look nothing alike in terms of style despite both being the same source material), official art and merch, or even the seasons of the show itself!

using ichi as my example here since i draw him the most, but its pretty easy to play spot the difference with the varying styles. even within a specific season you can do this across episodes, especially with season 1!

when i draw, i tend to be a bit sacrilege and use references across different media; usually ill use the show [especially season 2, if only because its a bit more "uniform"] as reference for the actual features and colors/poses/etc, but i like to use hesowars to reference proportions, since they seem to be most consistent there.

SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO NOTE: theres a WEALTH of fanartists that have styles that are INCREDIBLY similar to the show, so be careful to check your sources! these artists deserve credit for their hard work, which they often don't get since their work is reposted under the guise of being official art.

once you've pinned down the exact style you'd like to emulate, and the character you're looking to draw, its really just a matter of finding references, which is pretty easy! you can scrub through different episodes for good angles/shots, or if you're going for one of the game styles the AU wiki has most of the games catalogued to my knowledge. if you're looking to draw an oc, use characters you think they would look similar to in the show. if you really wanna waste your time, though, you can always scrub through crowd scenes in the show to see if any background characters might look like what you're going for; the season 3 episode Mt. Takao comes to mind, there were a lot of cute mob characters there.

using keiko as my example here, you can see that i pulled her features from multiple different characters to get her to look right in the style. with ocs, its important to reference a number of different characters, since the likelihood of a background character being a 1:1 for your little guy is unfortunately pretty low. there WILL, however, be a lot of characters that look KIND of like them. the key is to figure out what parts go where!

to this point, most prominent ososan women have very similar stock anime girl faces with very minor differences, so if youre looking to make a cute girl oc, most of the womens' faces can be used somewhat interchangeably. if you want your cute girl oc to have a more unique face, though, the movie gave us some women with more unique faces in the form of the NEETs' old classmates! theres also no harm in referencing male characters faces in this regard. #butchswag #kiruminikuya

BUT. going back to the assumption that you're drawing a canon character, today I'll be drawing oso for my example

when you're first getting a feel for the style, tracing some of your references can actually be a really great way to acclimate yourself to the characters proportions and features. think of like when you were a kid, and would trace over pictures of pokemon or cartoon characters so you could draw them better. its basically the same principle! this was especially helpful for me when it came to eyes; they vary the most wildly of any other trait that characters have in ososan, so going over the different shapes to get a feel for each of them was very important.

when you trace, though, I recommend doing so a bit more loosely, sort of like if you're doing a photo study for anatomy; block out the basic shapes and do small markers for different features (i.e small lines to denote where the eyes start and and, distance from nose to mouth, things like that), and from there draw the rest on your own.

after long enough you'll get a feel for the basic placement of where everything should go! the eyes and nose are undoubtedly the hardest when it comes to the sextuplets, since they shift around a LOT between games/seasons/etc. so don't feel bad if you have a hard time with that, since there isnt really a "right" answer with how frequently it changes. i still fuck it up all the time myself!

as for some basic tips, heres some stuff i try to keep in mind when drawing them that just helps the finished product look a bit nicer!

when drawing the hair + fringe line, its important to swoop it downwards a little bit; the flat across look Can work, but if you're not careful you risk showing the tops of their eyes, which is um. ew! ick! nast!

when a matsu is facing forward, their hair will usually tend towards one direction to keep the silhouette. in most screenshots i saw, the bowl cut points left! that said, dont be afraid to point rightwards if its better for your specific drawing!

and lastly: USE THE LIQUIFY TOOL. LIBERALLY. i am not joking when i say this has saved my ass so many times, its hard to get the placement right on the facial features and even harder to get everything to LOOK good, so if its available to you i HIGHLY suggest just squishing everything around with a liquify tool until it looks right. you can always go back and correct the blurry lines. its really a life saver

BUT YEAH! i dont know if this was very helpful but i hope you're at least able to gain something from it :-))

[seaoflove07]

Cravings in the Dawn🌹

• A commission artwork by Lesyarei •

Oc x Canon.

Characters: Azusa Mukami & Christine Melendez. (Rose)

A commission Fan Fiction Written by @afi-writes @afi-mukami

Author Oc @yuriko-mukami

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers.

🔞⚠️⚠️ NSFW, Not for Minors! ⚠️⚠️🔞

Note: I can't bring myself to write my own smut. 😅 So I'm glad there are writers who do steamy commissions.

I did give the dialogue to the writer and the rest she poured her magic with her style.📝 🔥🔪🌹

The pinkish hue spreads through the sky just above the high trees, the first cue of the morning. Christine has been watching the dark sky for a while now, tossing and turning every now and then. Now light dangles into the room, caressing the rosy curtains and bedsheets with its sparkles. No way Christine can fall asleep this morning, not when every nerve in her body tickles. There is this deep yearning rising in her, pulsing through her veins, demanding attention.

The arms locked around Christine aren’t truly helping the situation. Especially not when Azusa nuzzles her locks in his slumber, his scent of fruity black tea with a hint of flowers sailing in as Christine draws breath.

Five days.

For five days without making love to the man who lays next to her. A sigh presses past Christine’s lips. Five days full of work for Karlheinz’s plans. Five days full of chores in the mansion. Five days hitting the bed in the brick of dawn and passing out from exhaustion.

Yet now, Christine is wide awake, feeling how neediness courses through her body. Such a wrong timing.

Azusa lets out a soft mumble while Christine’s gaze embraces him. He has worked so hard, deserving every ounce of rest he can get. Not wanting to disturb him, Christine sneaks from under his arms gradually. Another mumble, an arm tugging a pillow, hugging it instead. An adorable sight.

But adorable isn’t what Christine would need now. Not even the long bath earlier has shaken the throbbing need away. Slightly annoyed by her urges, Christine grabs a silk robe from the backrest of a chair and wraps it around her. Even though the fabric is light, its touch on her skin is enough to send shivers all over. Oh, she would need so much more. Drawing a breath, she pushes the longing aside and heads for the kitchen. Perhaps a glass of water can cool her down.

But this isn’t a lucky morning for Christine. Of course, the water couldn’t help her. Heading back, yet another sigh vibrates through Christine. She reaches for the doorknob, but it escapes her fingers just when she’s about to grab it. Lifting her gaze, she meets the eyes that bore through her full of worry and anxiousness.

A second passes, perhaps two. Cold fingers grip around Christine’s wrist, and Azusa hauls her into the room, slamming the door shut.

“Azu, what’s the matter?” The question jumps off Christine’s lips.

“When I woke up…” Darkness slithers into Azusa’s eyes and he only firms his hold. “...you weren’t there near me in the bed… Or rather… you weren’t around… in the room at all... I feared that you might… have abandoned me...and had left me... Just thinking about it… It got me feeling… very sad… and incredibly scared...”

“Azu…” Slowly, Christine pulls her wrist from Azusa’s fingers only to lean in and cup his icy cheeks. “I will never leave you because I love you.”

But Azusa’s gaze is like the one of a hurt animal. “Then why… did you leave the room… without telling me…!?” His usually sluggish tone of voice pitches higher.

Christine shifts in front of him. “You were still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you up.” She allows a tiny sigh to leave her mouth again. “I couldn't sleep. So… I went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.”

“Really…?” Confusion wafts over Azusa’s face. Yet it is soon twisted into suspiciousness. “Or you might be using that… as an excuse for me… to lower my guard...then use that opportunity… to run away and leave me…”

“Azusa stop!” Christine frowns, staring at her love. “You need to learn to trust me. I haven't given you any reason to think that I'll leave you for someone else.” So frustrating! Always this! Always! Why can’t Azusa see how much she loves him? Why can’t he trust that she will stay? Stomping her feet on the carpet, Christine gives the man a final glare. “I'm done talking to you, I'm going to bed now.”

“Wait!” Azusa’s voice is almost insinuating with desperation.

But Christine doesn’t mind. She has gotten enough of this. Turning her back, she refuses to answer. The bed is calling for her.

The next step is never taken.

“Don't you turn your back on me…! I’m not done talking to you yet...!” Azusa seizes Christine’s shoulders, his fingertips digging into her skin as he turns her around so fast, that her head is spinning for a moment. But only for a moment, for the reliant lips capture hers.

“Azusa, no…” Christine shoves Azusa’s chest, breaking the smooch and forcing a whine out of the Vampire. “I want you to trust me…”

For a while, nothing is being said. The couple stares at each other and the silence is thick between them.

Azusa shifts as if he is feeling physically uncomfortable. “It’s hard, Rose… especially when I know… that other men want you…”

His anxiety is kicking in, isn’t it? Christine locks her gaze with Azusa’s while she lets her robe slide off her shoulders and onto the floor. Lifting her hands, she tugs the straps of her nightgown until they run down her upper arms. With a sway of her hips, she allows the piece of garment to drop and pile around her ankles.

“Azu…” Without a hurry, Christine steps out of the nightgown and brings her hands on her curves. There is fire in her loins and desire in her belly. “...you have had my body many times. But…” She slithers her fingers under the waist of her lace pink thong. “...I want you to know.” She draws the lingerie down little by little revealing everything as the ache between her thighs grows more and more insistent. “I'm still yours. My heart and body will always be yours.”

As Azusa’s eyes caress her with lusting, invisible fingers, Christine steps closer. He is all she wants; all she can think of. “My body craves you… Azu…” She sinks into his eyes, and the wet heat flares in her. Lust burns in her brain and she can concentrate on nothing else. “Please… make love to me…”

Azusa swallows. “Rose…”

For a tiny while Azusa’s eyes settle on Christine’s breasts. Just a moment later, he lifts his hand and starts to unbutton his shirt. One by one, the fastenings drop open, baring his chest to Christine’s waiting gaze. He drops the piece of clothing on the floor, and with a swift movement, he scoops her up and carries her through the room, tossing her on the bed so hastily that her head sinks into the pillow. She doesn’t even have time to dampen her lips with her tongue before he is over her, showering kisses on her.

The smooches take over Christine’s senses as she sinks into bliss along with them. Trembles course through her as Azusa takes her lips with his own. So all-consuming. It’s impossible to resist the pull of passion that draws them both in. The kiss is hard, then soft and hard again, coming like waves to the shore, making her blood pulse in her veins with a scarlet web of desire.

Finally, Azusa breaks the kiss and tugs Christine’s bottom lip, scraping it with his peeking fangs. A metallic inkling of a taste wafts onto her tongue, a cue of her own blood. Azusa’s mouth moves down to Christine’s slender throat, his teeth finding the column of her neck and piercing it. The white pain strikes her mind, and she can’t hold back a whine that pushes past her lips.

“Sing more… for me, Rose…” Azusa traces Christine’s side while he focuses on sucking her blood. Releasing a moan, he licks over the bite mark and fishes the last drops of the delicious liquid of life before moving down.

When Azusa’s breath breezes over Christine’s skin, her nipples perk up from the mere thought of what is to come. A cry escapes her when his fangs thrust into the ample flesh of her mound. Drawing blood once more, Azusa caresses her other breast and toys with its hardened peak, gliding his thumb over the nub. Combined with the bite, the sensation hauls Christine into a mixture of sweet pain and luscious pleasure.

As if asking forgiveness, Azusa kisses the reddish bite, tracing the mound until he reaches the stout bud. Flicking over it, he forces a whine out of Christine. Grazing with his fangs, he sucks the nub into his mouth and whirls his tongue around it. Shivers run down Christine’s spine, and she squirms under her lover, wailing.

Releasing the bud, Azusa captures the other and gives it the same treatment. More laments of lust escape to the air while yearning ignites deep within Christine.

“Your voice… spurs me on…” Azusa breathes against the nipple. “Rose… let me hear… more…” He inches closer, sinking his fangs into the soft flesh of Christine’s breast. Squealing, she laces her fingers with his hair, presses his head closer, and arches her back to meet his lips and fangs again and again.

And that is only the start of their tingling tango of delight and desperation. Azusa’s fangs find all the sensitive spots of Christine’s, for he knows them well. The mouthwatering scrunch of her upper arm, the cushiony of her waist and belly, the bounciness of her thigh. With each bite, comes a mark of ownership, a sign of love and dedication like no other, painted with pain like proof of life. The perfection the couple only shares with one another and no one else, raw need meeting pure desire.

Heat uncurls in Christine’s abdomen, the urgent need that demands more. She thrills at the thought of Azusa moving inside her.

“Azu…” A quivering whisper. Christine craves more, her body flaring with fervor and mind hazing with urge old as time. This man, this love is all she needs. Meandering under him, she calls him to take what belongs rightfully to him, teases him with the promise of delight.

“Rose… your scent…” Azusa showers Christine’s stomach with thousands of smooches. “...it is… like a garden… My own… rose garden…”

Releasing his grasp, Azusa shoves his pajama pants down along with his underwear as if a cue that Christine’s carnal desire will no longer be denied. He kicks the clothes off the edge of the bed. “You are mine, Rose… I will not hand you over… to anyone…”

Azusa seizes Christine by her waist and flips her over. Her cheek meets the pillow, sinking into it as she wheezes. Just a moment later, Azusa’s fingers entangle with her hair while he buries his nose in it and breathes her in. As he kisses down her nape, his breath is ragged in her ears. He traces her skin, enlacing his fingers with her hair and tugging gently while keeping his other hand on her shoulder blade and scraping her neck.

The soft pecks of his lips on her spine are ever-so-gently. Yet, the possessive desperation lingers between the couple and paints every touch, every lungful of air.

Nuzzling Christine’s spine, Azusa presses another series of smooches on it and inhales deeply. “Your scent… Rose… It’s intoxicating…”

Christine loves to hear Azusa’s sweet words. He clenches his hand in her hair, his digits delving into it for a while before he slides his fingers down her back, cherishing every inch of her skin.

Soft moans of satisfaction sail out of Christine as Azusa holds her waist and caresses the small of her back with his mouth. She can’t help but sway her bottom for him, and he answers the cue, hauling is closer and covering the buttocks with kisses as well while palming the squeezy flesh over and over again.

The fangs puncture Christine’s buttock, forcing a lament out of her. Azusa can’t resist suckling even more of her sweet liquid of life. Her palm meets the headboard of the bed, fingers scratching it as Azusa moves south while his hand reaches the apex of her thighs; the tip of his finger dips in followed by a moist draining sound.

“Rose, you are… so wet… for me…” Azusa’s words vibrate against Christine’s skin just before his tongue glides to the valley between her thighs, savoring the sweet cavern. At the same time, he lets his digit sneak past her pearly gates, sinking in and retreating again. He works his fingers into her once more, igniting her. Her body vibrates in response, and she bites back a whimper.

Azusa’s swirling fingers spread Christine wide, spreading her wetness all over her rosy petals. Curling his digits, he provokes more muffled moans out of her, inflaming her veins with gratification. Kissing and licking, Azusa traces Christine’s swollen folds. She opens for him like a flower as he inches his fingers out only to slash his tongue inside, working her entrance, driving her wild. The sensation locks her in the prison of desires, moistness spreading on her thighs with each delicate flick while his digits reach her already throbbing nub of pleasures.

Christine’s breath comes in soft pants as Azusa’s fingers keep stroking her, sending her into shivers of ecstasy. Her clit cries out for him, her back arches and her fingers clench the blanket as if it is the only thing that keeps her in this realm while he drinks deep from her candied well of bliss. Again and again, bold swipes of his tongue send her spinning in the whirlpool of sacred sensations.

“You taste… so good, Rose…” Kissing her entrance, Azusa slides his tongue toward Christine’s buttocks, snaking its way between them and forcing yet another whimper past her lips. She tenses for the unfamiliar sensation as Azusa tests the new waters, a soggy lick probing the opening he hasn’t conquered yet.

Shivering, Christine squeezes the blanket. What is this? But the protest dies on her lips as Azusa keeps going, kissing and lapping with relish. Small drifts turn into tidal waves of delight, taking Christine beyond reason. Whimpering, she surrenders while Azusa’s tongue wins over her confusion and his thumb dances over her pulsing pearl.

“Every part of… you is mine…” The whisper vibrates against Christine’s buttock, and right after the wet tip of Azusa’s tongue gives her another thrill of rapture.

• Full Uncensored Artwork, Here •

Wailing, Christine grasps the blanket under her and instinctively tugs it into her mouth, stifling her voice. If anything, that drives Azusa further, and his tongue starts to tantalize and tease her whilst his stroking and petting on her glossy bud never stops. She writhes against his hand and the tongue that slips in, tormenting her ever-so-sweetly.

Almost losing herself to the pleasure, Christine shifts her hips adapting to Azusa’s moves. Rapture shoots through her at his touch and tortured moans squeeze from her mouth. If this doesn’t stop soon, she will come apart right here and now. Her moans break through, echoing through the room… and just then, Azusa’s fingers withdraw, and his tongue leaves a wet trail on her bottom.

“No! Azu, please! Don’t stop!” Christine’s cries of yearning cut the air.

“We should… cum together, Rose.”

As Christine wails and heaves, Azusa collects her into his arms, supporting her against his chest. She can’t help the trembles that dash through her muscles from both exhaustion and eagerness.

Nuzzling Christine’s nape, Azusa nibbles it with the peaks of his fangs only. His mouth tells her without words how loved she is. He grabs her chin, gently tilting her head to captivate her lips and lock her into a prison of smooches. The earth-shattering kisses sail into Christine’s heart, for they are not only because of lust but adornment as well. Like Cupid’s arrow into her chest, Azusa’s lips speak a language of their own in a long and leisurely manner.

I love you.

I need you.

I’ll never let go of you.

Spoken words aren’t needed. In silence, they flow from one another as an endless stream that binds them together.

While they kiss open-mouthed, Azusa grinds his erection against Christine’s backside. It slides across her folds, and she can feel how ready he is to take her, to show her to whom she belongs. Nudging her dampened petals, he briefly pauses at her pearly gates, then pushes them wide and shoves his length into her core. Heat meets coldness, creating an inferno spiced with an ice storm.

Azusa sighs with satisfaction as his hardness fills Christine, stripping away everything but her need for him. He places one hand on Christine’s hip, holding her there as he hits the deepest parts of her. For a moment, he breaks the kiss and bites her lower lip, drawing a drip of blood. The wound is sealed fast but the swollen sensation doesn’t leave Christine while the couple sinks into the dance of smooches and bounces. Her body molds against his, as she enjoys the coldness of his skin and the roughness of his thrusts.

“Rose…” Azusa’s breath whispers over Christine’s lips. He ravishes her body while kissing her over and over, pushing all else from her mind. His kiss is full of possessiveness, greedy for even more.

Christine groans into Azusa’s mouth while he claims hers again and again, his lips crushing against hers. They gasp, moan, and writhe while the sun rises above the trees and paints the room with a golden hue of rosy pink. To kiss Azusa like this forever would not be long enough.

• Full Uncensored Artwork, Here •

Christine cherishes the feel of his tongue rubbing hers and can’t help but suck it, enjoying the suction. He’s in her, filling her completely. Not just her body but her mind and soul as well.

Azusa’s hands are cool but demand more and more from Christine. Her breasts bounce with each thrust and the golden cross along with them, hitting her chest every time. He cups her mound, squeezing and caressing it. Gently at first, then rougher. His thumb rasps against her hardened nipple, and soon, he can’t resist the urge to roll and pinch the aching bud, forcing out wailing moans from Christine but only to muffle those with his smooches.

They pant in pleasure, lost in heat as they move together as one. Azusa presses harder into her, deeper, filling Christine up with his cock. Her pussy tightens around him as his length pierces her from behind over and over again. As she stretches and melds, clenching him, he releases a hungry moan into her mouth. His harsh, rough strokes rock her body while they merge, lips on lips.

“Rose… you are…” Azusa pants onto Christine’s lips. “...mine…”

Trapped between torment and ecstasy, Christine’s inner walls ripple against Azusa. He slows down but only to hasten his pace again. Pounding into her depths, he groans, almost growls into their kisses.

Christine’s whole body is on fire with bliss. Her toes curl and her back arches as the waves come, sizzling through every part of her. Azusa’s steely bouncing sends her toward the edge as he pulses in her, making gratification rocket along her veins. He clasps her hips with both hands, pulling her hard into his final thrust, and at the same moment, a soul-shattering orgasm robs Christine of her senses. Azusa’s jerking shaft gushes into her, and his growls of pleasure mingle with her laments. His body tenses as he pours his load deep into her, unleashing his love and melting in her heat.

As he wraps both arms around Christine, Azusa stays inside, letting her milk him while nuzzling her nape through her sweaty hair. “Rose… I love you… so much…”

- End -

Thank you for reading. 📖 🌹

• Artwork by Alluraalteal •

[seeminglydark]

Forgive me if this is weird to say, but as someone who really struggles to get attached to his own ocs out if fear of seeming cringe (and trying really hard to break out of thar) I really admire how much you unabashedly love your characters and how much it shows in your art

hahaha its not weird to say at all, I actually also struggle with this. I get a lot of self embarrassment and feel cringe about the fact that i draw the same things all the time, i dunno if that helps to hear. Sometimes I even refrain from posting things for a few days, or i wont post them in places like patreon or my patreon server or something cuz i have this fear of 'Oh Not Again.'

I think what helps me is remembering that first and foremost, I created my ocs for ME. I draw them for me. everything I do, its for me, coping mechanisms, self therapy, working through issues, or just for fun and aesthetic. They are extensions of me, and loving them is basically learning to love me. I put the care i should have been giving myself all this time into them, and it weirdly helps with my own self love journey, cuz honestly I feel pretty cringe most of the time and like i dont belong in most spaces. My ocs ease that, its a way of putting my heart and thoughts on paper so to speak.

These days i tell myself if people get bored, or dont want to see characters, or think im cringey, they have the freedom to unfollow. The internet is a vast place. When people are jerks about it, which I'll be honest, has happened WAY less than my brain tells me it will, i ignore and move on. No one has to be here. Has it happened? Yeah once or twice maybe, but compared to the positive messages I get its really rare. it's more that i think the rejection hurts us more when we hear it, I combat this by keeping a document where I've copy pasted all the comments/tags/dms that made me feel good, that way i can read through it and remind myself most people that are here love what i do. i like to think thats why people followed me.

And you know what, its so hard to separate ourselves from what people think of us, so remember the good things, cuz its incredibly rewarding that theres people who DO wanna be here. That love them maybe just as much as me. That feeling is WAY Bigger than the cringe feeling. The fact that i CAN be obsessive and cringe and people are on this ride with me? Holy Shit like I cant even describe how good that feels.

Create first and foremost for you. Thats the win, right there. And if it so happens others want to walk that road with you, well you've already won by creating so thats just a really cool bonus. Remember the kind interactions you have with people.They mean so much more than the negative ones. Love your ocs cuz they are a part of you in some kinda way and you deserve that love and care too.

-RJ

[spacecatbowtie]

I know why - path 1: Dom Din

Interactive story (Path 1 of 3)

Base story | Path 1: Dom Din | Path 2: Dark Din | Path 3: Sweet Din

After the base story, this is one of the endings. Dominant Din.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI 18+

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Chapter word count: 4k

AO3

Tags: #Angst #Smut #Porn With Plot #Mando needs to work on his communications skills #unprotected p in v #Fingering #First POV #no mention of oc name #No use of y/n #I hate y/n #OC wants to be taken care of #OC wants to be independent #kinda forced proximity #Exhibitionism #Interactive #Daddy Dom Din Djarin #sweet din #switch Din

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

I jerk my hand out of his grasp. "Don't pretend to have empathy all of a sudden.. bounty hunter."

 Calling him by the name of his profession, seems to kick him into his feral mode again. Because as soon as the attempt of degrading insult left my lips, it is followed by a pathetic squeal, as his hand shoots up to grab my neck and draw me closer. "Damned girl" He grunts "I don't want you hurt, that is why I didn't allow you to go with me on hunts."   With big eyes I look at him, no sensible thought is able to form in my head.   "Another reason I do not let you come, is because you distract me."   A nervous laugh that sounds more like a wheeze, due to the tight grasp on my neck is the first thing out of my mouth. He does not budge when I push against his chest. "Are.. am.. How.. In what way do I distract you?" The struggle with those words is not just because of the obstruction around my neck.   The grip of his hands on my body tighten slightly for a second, as if he is trying to feel those parts in detail. "In what ways don't you…" His voice is horse and soft.   "What are you implying?" He can not mean what I think he means.   No response. The arm that is not currently holding my neck hostage clumsily moves to my hip. His thumb starts to rub his in little circles there. He is teasing me. I know it. He is probably laughing at me underneath his stupid helmet. He has known all this time.

"Stop torturing me, stop using my feelings for you against me!"   This does get a reaction out of him. Immediately after I spoke the words he draws back a little and he seems to look in to my eyes. "You have feelings for me?"   "Yea duh!" I almost burst out in laughter, and can just about stop myself from mocking him with an bad imitated voice. "Don't pretend you don't know. I know what you are doing." How stupid does he think I am? "with your 'sweet girl'" I use my low voice impression of him here anyway.   He does not appear to appreciate my imitation of him. The setting sun reflects its orange glow on his armour when he turns us both. He is facing the wall now, and I stand with my back against it. "You assume too much about me."   "What does that mean?" I shove his chest plate again.

  No reaction.

  Okay, I am done.   When pushing against his chest does not work, I try to claw his hands from my throat. What in the hell does he mean? why is he always so infuriating and confusing. He seriously needs to work on his communication skills.  "Be clear for once in your life, and tell me what you mean!"   I don't know where this build-up rage suddenly comes from. Maybe because he caught me running from him, or it's from pushing down my feelings all this time, maybe it is his reaction that of lack thereof that angers me. Whatever it is, the only thing I can do is fight him. My hands thug at his arm and wrist, so hard my fingers start hurting. My feet and legs kick at him, trying to escape his firm uncomfortable hold on me.

Perhaps I fight against the physical, just the same as the mental hold he has on me. Him being himself draws me in, his voice, his posture. Hell, even the way he walks makes me want to consume him with everything I have. It makes me want to worship him, and it scares me. During my tantrum he has been incredibly still. His grip does not falter, he does not even seem to breathe.   "I swear if you don't let me go and tell me what is going on I will literally kill you!"   Finally, he speaks. But from everything he could have said, I did not expect this.   "Maker, I really want to have sex with you right now."   My body freezes.   "Excuse me?" I must have misheard that.   "You know what I said."   The hand on my hip moves to my stomach. "Can I touch you?"   Time seems to freeze. I am aware of everything, the cold wall against my back, the setting sun encasing the man before me. The man that now wants to give me what I've imagined during so many day dreams. All I can do in response is nod. The voice that was full of fury just before, is lost now.   "Okay, I will take care of you." His hand slides slowly over the boning of my corset, leaving a hot boiling feeling there. "Breathe, girl"

Sure enough, I had forgotten to do that. Steadily I blow out a deep breath.

His fingers continue downwards, past the rim of my pants. It is quite a tight fit with his big hand there. He takes a step closer, so as not to put his arm in an uncomfortable angle. His chest touches my face, draining me in his overwhelming smell. I think I am even more sensitive to everything about him right now.

Clamping my fingers behind the edges of his chest plate, to pull him even closer. His breathing sounds heavy above me. He is no longer taking hold of my neck anymore, the hand is now supporting himself against the wall above my head. Perhaps he is handling the tension of this situation worse than me.

The leather of his glove finally touches my skin. It is as if the reality of the situation is just now kicking in. Other than tense, I feel apprehensive and self-conscious now. Why is he acting this way now, it is too big of a change. I always thought he hated me. And now He stands here before me, with his hand down my pants.

His armour is hard and cool when I let my head lean against it. Closing my eyes, I try to stop myself from shaking.

Breathe.

Why is he doing this? Does he like me too in that way? Or is he doing this to apologize for acting angry with me?   He must notice my sudden shyness, because he pulls his hand back.   Blinking I force myself back in the present. "No, you dont have to stop. Unless you want to, but I-"   His finger touches my lips, to hush me. "I know." He proceeds to pull of his gloves. "I need you to be relaxed for me." 

The view of his naked hands in front of me, makes my brain do anything but being relaxed. I have never seen any part of his skin before, let alone his full hands. I wasn't even sure he was human or just humanoid. But hell is he human! His hands are big. I knew that, I could see that with his gloves on. What I could not see before, is how long and thick his fingers are. And how the muscles shift when he moves his hand. The hand that moves even closer, and finally touches me. His warm skin caresses my cheeks.   "I will take care of you." He tells me again.

I nod my head and rest it back against the wall. "Yes, okay."

Not knowing what to do with my hands, i rest them on his biceps, feeling his hard arms, capable of handling me in any way he wants. Slowly he moves his bare hand down my stomach, dipping underneath the waistband again.

Breathe.

The tips of his fingers reach the wet spot between my legs, only now I can feel how excited I am for him. I close my eyes and hide my face by dipping it down. But my head falls back as he digs the rest of his fingers between my lips.

"Oh fuking stars." I breathe and I step a little wider, so he has better access.

A low sound rumbles in his chest as wetness coats his hand. He explores me slowly, caressing softly back and forth, but every time he only skims over my entrance. Finally he dips one of his fingers a little more in, but then abandons it, making me let out a pathetic whine. He chuckles darkly as he teases me more, without touching my clit or my entrance in the way I need.

Clinging to his arms, I look up at him. "I thought you were going to take care of me." I grit my teeth. "All you do is put me on edge, but you never d-"

His fingers are inside me. I think it's two but I can't be sure. Even though I am all wet and slippery, the stretch makes me gasp.

"Oh, yes, Maker."

He pulls out again, and then slowly inserts them again, hooking his fingers as he pulls them back out. "It's not the Maker that is making you feel this way, girl."

"Mando, please." This man is making me beg. I never beg, maybe sometimes to get what I want as I look up at him with puppy eyes, but I never truly beg and mean it. For weeks, for months I have been watching him, with a growing feeling of butterflies in my belly when he is close, when he addresses me, when he grunts as he lifts something heavy. Now, this man has me pressed up against the wall with his hand down my pants, making me feel all kinds of wild.

"Is this what you wanted? For me to make you feel good?" His voice is rough, breathing heavily. He inserts another finger carefully and painfully slow.

I respond with an affirming mewl.

"For how long have you wanted this?" 

Am I going to tell him the truth? Am I going to admit that I have been wanting him badly for two and a half months, if not more, and that I basically fantasized about him since the day I laid eyes on him? His fingers dig deeper inside me, the palm of his hand angled so it rubs my clit. I grind my hips against him, searching for the release I crave.

"Tell me, girl. For how long have you wanted me to touch you?"  

It's hard to think with his hand making me feel all sorts of new things. But i try my best to answer him. "Since you told me to get some sleep." 

His movements slow as he listens to my soft voice.

 I continue. "After you cleared out a room for me." 

He draws his hand back, and I stiffen, afraid to have said something wrong. Did I come across as too desperate? pathetic? 

His fingers glisten in the twilight, as he looks down at his hand. My face reddens and I half wish I could disappear into the darkening night as my arousal drips from his hand.

Rubbing his fingers together, he bring them closer to his face, inspecting it. "That was the first day." 

Only after a few seconds I nod. There is no use denying.

"You liked me telling you to get some sleep?"

Again I nod, not daring to look at where his eyes are behind the visor. I look at his chest, then at the ground, and then back again.

"You like my voice?" It was more of a statement than a question.

I don't want to nod again, so I speak. "It just sounds nice, but I am sure you have heard that many times before."

"A few times." 

With his thumb he slowly swipes over my bottom lip, coating it with my own slick. "You have made quite a mess out of me." Then he pushes two fingers inside my mouth. "Be a good girl, and clean it up for me." 

Understanding where he is getting at, I suck on them and lick his thick digits clean. He hums in approval, making sure I have every last bit. For a few seconds he just looks at me, at least that is what he looks like to be doing. His fingers slip from my mouth.

I shrink underneath his gaze as I look up at him. Is he having second thoughts? He can't back off now, I want him, I need him. I slide my hands from his arms down over his chest, and even lower. Still I search for any reaction from him, any way his body language betrays what he wants, what he is feeling. But he remains stoic apart from the low breaths that move his chest and sound through his modulator.

His head tilts as my finger slides over the closing of his pants, as if he is inspecting me, waiting and watching for what I will do next. It takes a little struggle to open the fly and I have to look down to see what I'm doing. I don't dare to look up as I slowly grab a hold of him with a slightly trembling hand. A gasp escapes me as my fingers make contact with his warm skin. I'm not a virgin, I have played around a bit in the past. Some long term, some just for one night. But touching him finally feels new and different, as if I am the shy girl I was on my first time.

He is hard, the tip completely exposed. A low sound rumbles in his chest as I wrap my fingers around his grit and pull him out of his pants. He still has not moved as I look up. Experimentally, I move my hand slowly, swiping my thumb over the smooth head.

For the first time in a while he speaks, his voice rough and soft. "Make it wet first." It does not sound gentle, it sounds like he is refraining himself, holding himself back from doing what he wants to do.

I almost apologize at his request. How could I forget, I knew it could be uncomfortable for men to move against the sensitive skin without lubing it up first. Trying to remain controlled I lower myself steadily to the ground, settling on my knees. His helmet tilts further down, following me as I kneel before him. Giving a small lick on the head, I test the waters. A grunt from him challenges me to continue. I open my mouth further and take him between my lips, my tongue teasing the underside of his length.

He throws his head back with a delicious sound. One of his hands shoots to my head, tangling in my hair whilst he uses the other to steady himself against the wall. Looking down at me again, he guides my head, pushing me deeper on to him until he hits the back of my throat. The pressure makes me gag, but his reaction causes a burning heat to consume my lower stomach. 

With a growl he pulls me to my feet and turns me around, so my back is pressed to his hard chest. He keeps me against him as he takes a step back. "Hands on the wall." He says.

The wall is far more than arms-length away, so I try to take a step forward, but he keeps his hands tightly on my hips, preventing me from doing so. I look back at him in confusion. "What?"

"Hands on the wall." He speaks slower now.

After hesitating for a moment, I lean forward. Bending my hips at almost a ninety degree angle, I reach out to lean against the rough surface with my palms.

"Can you keep them there, sweet girl?" Mando's fingers dig in my waist before traveling up my torso.

I give him a nod, not trusting my voice right now. 

"Good." His fingers hook underneath the waistband of my pants and yanks them down. They end up half way down my legs.

I gasp and want to stand up straight again, feeling too exposed being bend over like this. A hand pressing between my shoulder blades prevents me from doing so. "Don't. Move."

Looking around frantically I search for possible onlookers. "What if someone walks in on us?"

"Then they will have something perfect to look at." Fingers slide over my pussy once more, until his hand cups me. "You are perfect." The hand is removed, only for it to be replaced with the tip of his length. It teases painfully slow from my clit and back up, spreading around my wetness and his pre-cum. This thought makes me shiver. It feels so filthy and naughty. After all those day dreams, this was finally really happening. 

"I need to know how you feel inside me." I push back against him, searching for more friction.

His voice sounds like he is as deep in this moment as I am. He sounds as if it hurts him not to give in to his desires right now. "Patience, girl." With his foot he kicks my legs wider apart as far as they will go with my pants down my legs. He is spreading me for him, exposing me even more. I don't care about decency or shame anymore. I need him, now.

"Please," It sounds more pathetic than I wanted it too. Tears of frustration start to form in my eyes. "Please, just fuck me."

Then he is where I need him, and he is pushing in. Slowly. I have never felt this good in my life, I'm sure of it. This moment right here, is what I have needed my whole life. I could die peacefully now. He is not even all the way in yet, he is still moving inside me, penetrating deep, far surpassing the length of his fingers.

"Oh, maker yes, shit, fuck." My voice is even less controlled now, high-pitched and loud.

"Watch your words, darling." His grip on my waist tightens, almost painfully so. Finally he is settled in all the way, his hipbones against my butt. "You feel... Dank Farrik, you feel amazing." Just as slowly as he entered me, he pulls back out again. A finger trails over the place where we connect, feeling how much I am stretched around him.

Is he watching? Is he looking at how my pussy grips him, how well I take him? As he has completely pulled out, he pushes in again, way faster now, but still not hard and fast enough for me. He keeps on this rhythm of fucking me, almost lovingly. 

"I love the sounds you make for me, sweet girl." His voice rasps through his modulator as his hand caresses my thighs and back. My arms almost give out, and would have slumped to the wall if it wasn't for his tight grip on my waist. "I told you to keep your hands there and not to move." Fingers scratch against my scalp as he digs in my hair. "I need you to listen to me." He sounds threatening, the voice he uses on his bounties when they are a hand full.

"Harder.. I need it harder." 

He pulls my head back by my hair and starts fucking me with a knee-buckling pace. A hand on my shoulder is used to shove me back on to him with every thrust. "Is this what you wanted, sweet girl? Have you wanted me to use you like this, and kept it quiet all this time? You have starved me of this tight wet cunt." His breath is fast and he lets out beautiful groans between words. He is truly undone, the normally silent mandalorian has turned in a primal man without restraints he normally lives by. The filthy words continue as he keeps pistoning in to me. With every trust, I feel him spreading me open, hitting every part inside me that makes me drool. This sensation is almost, if not way more delicious than the orgasms I give myself on the thought of him.

"Keep making those pretty noises for me." The already deep voice, is even more low and raspy now, and I decide that I really love this unfiltered version of him. 

"I'm going to fill you up, fill up your tight pussy until it leaks out." The groan he lets out at this thought makes me clench around him. "But first, you are going to cum for me." The hand on my waist disappears, as does the support it provided. "Keep still." He orders when my knees buckle under my own weight. The hand then moves over my lower stomach and further down. My whole body shudders when his fingertips touch my clit. It is sensitive and swollen from the pleasure he is giving me.

"Mando, fuck yes please let me cum. keep fucking me please" I don't have any control over my words anymore. They spill out as he keeps softly caressing my clit with his fingers. Not only does he just rub the bundle of nerves, he too swipes over my lips and the place where he rams inside me. Never has a man done that to me before. Immediately I feel the familiar heat between my legs grow hotter.  Even by myself I have not managed to reach near an orgasm this quick.

Letting go of my hair, his hand seeks the wall for support. I can feel everything of him. His warm stomach and the cold beskar chest plate press against my back. This angle hits another spot inside me that makes my body feel as if it is flying. It does not take long for me to cum all over his hand.

He keeps on fucking me through my aftershocks and I feel he is getting close himself too. His groans become silent and breathing is getting heavy.

"Stars, yes, yes!" I moan as I feel him twitch inside me.

Spurts of cum fill me and he lets out the hottest, toe curling gasps. With a few extra deep and slow thrusts he makes sure to fuck his own cum deep inside me.

"Ner cyar'ika, that was perfect." Slowly he pulls out and straightens up. I attempt to turn around, but he keeps me in place. "You are perfect." He kneels down to put on my panties, probably knowing it will catch his cum as it leaks out of me. The pants are next, he pulls them up from where they have been stuck on my ankles.

He steps back and I turn around, finally facing him again. Nothing has changed, he is still his old self. The indecipherable mask, the broad but slightly static posture. I don't know why this surprise me, of course he hasn't changed. But for some reason it does feel different, he feels different. 

A sudden wave of emotions floods over me. There is fear, of him regretting what we have done. There is hope and love too, but also something that feels like guilt. There is frustration of how he has treated me for the past months, making me think he hated me. And there is relief, both physically as emotionally.

He just stands there, in front of me. Maybe he isn't sure of how to act himself. So I do the first thing that comes to mind in between the chaos of emotions inside of me. I jump at him, cling to him, my arms around his neck. I hug him close and tight, my face buried in the crook of his neck. The rough fabric of his cape rubs against my skin. I smell him, the warm heated scent of him. I have never smelled him so strong before, just whims of it when I walk past him. 

At first he stiffens, probably taken of guard by my hug attack. But then his shoulders relax and he wraps his arms around me. One around my lower waist and one over my shoulder blades, engulfing me, keeping me safe.

"Mando..." It sounds muffled in the fabric.

I feel him resting the helmet on my shoulder. "I've got you." He squeezes me tighter. "I've got you."

I could cry. I could but I don't, I keep that for later when I'm alone in my bunk. Now I just want to be here with him, nothing else.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Base story | Path 1: Dom Din | Path 2: Dark Din | Path 3: Sweet Din

Let me know what u think! Which of the 3 paths did you like more? <3

[wulvert]

I hope this isn’t one of those impossible to answer questions but, how did you start drawing/stay motivated?? I’ve wanted to make comics/ just draw in general for awhile but my art always looks BADDDD and seeing people (like my bf for example) be great at art and even going to university for it it’s like…. Huhhggugugufufgguugufufufuufufufufuueuwuaaaaaaaaa- and demotivates me a little, yk??

i started drawing bc i wanted to draw warrior cats

staying motivated is different for everyone, for me, NOW I really want to be able to draw my ocs fast and efficiently, im the only one who can draw my ocs because im the only one who knows them so i must do it, and i want to draw them well so I must improve. This may not work for everyone but I am an insanely jealous person, I covet so hard. obvs we covet what we see every day, so following artists I'm jealous of makes me want to get better, and to get better i must keep drawing so one day i can be like twitter user #42. I guess that's finding inspiration. maybe FIND INSPIRATION!!! is a nicer recommendation than become ENVIOUS. sorry. follow your inspirations.

Making drawing not a painful gut wrenching experience is incredibly important, personally I like to get something DONE, i want to fail FAST and move onto the next thing, I rarely sketch and i do thick non intricate line art to accommodate this, if i was forcing myself to do insanely rendered portraits every day i would stop drawing, i dont like it or find it fun! maybe once in a blue moon is a good time.

Doing figure drawings is genuinely the biggest game changer, not even to get better at art, obviously it does that but as a side effect it makes drawing so much easier, if i want to draw a full body now It is not a battle, i can just do that, even if it is wonky i can complete it without struggling on a sketch for three hours. I think improving your fundamentals makes drawing more fun and less like a slog to get through. I started trying to do figure drawing every day a couple months ago, i dont always manage but i try to get it most days of the week & now the way i feel about drawing has flipped entirely, the amount of art i post has like quadrupled since september.

Feeling bad about your art is normal! I have never felt happy with mine, i know i cant draw faces very well and i avoid feet but I will get there one day if i keep it up, im focusing my reference drawing on faces atm! I am the happiest with it i have ever been just because im having fun with it for the first time in a long time but I still have a long way to go. Keeping it up is hard but it is worth it if its something you enjoy :) Finding method that you enjoy drawing with takes a long time, It took me years to figure out i just do not like using pen pressure at all whatsoever & since then digital drawing has become a lot less physically painful for my hand lol.

also making comics just helps a lot. you dont have time to make everything perfect, you just have to keep drawing and getting better. u will hate all your old pages eventually it genuinely rules.

I hope this doesnt read as BECOME ENVIOUS AND SPIT OUT DRAWINGS FAST WITH NO REGARD FOR QUALITY bc that isnt what i mean, i just mean streamlining my process helped me find what i like to focus on in my art which is shape and colour, and learning how to make shapes better helped me have more fun. I like quality and spending time perfecting things i just like spending time on the things i care about! & now im trying to branch out into other non illustration stuff im just having a good time.

soz this is long i hope it answered ur question in some form

[enden-k]

I saw you mention Skyrim the other day in a post of yours and was curious about whether you had any in-universe OCs, AUs or anything like that for the Elder Scrolls universe, and if you'd be willing to share!

Sorry if this is weird or out of pocket or anything like that (or if the mention of skyrim was a goof of some kind that i missed) but it's been a special interest of mine for quite some time and it's neat to see folks in the same fandom circles that I am mention it outside of a meme context

ok ok im gonna ramble HAHAHA

when i played skyrim for first time it was years ago on ps3, just classic oldrim. when i got my pc years later i started w skyrim again and started modding and ughhhhh, basically turned my dragonborn into a really cool, pretty vampire w a bunch of customized followers and we just roamed the lands, doing quests and adventures and it was honestly sm fun!!!! i even started drawing abt them, i was just super immersed and it was a nice thing to focus on in that time. unfortunately smth broke my game iirc and in the end i had no choice but to delete everything and start again but i didnt get him right again and then just gave up. since i built a new pc that handles much much more now, i started ultramodding (again), trying to get him back akjscbkj

from all kinds of games i tried so far, skyrim is just still the perfect game in my eyes tbh. it was incredibly fun playing both vanilla and modding it later; it just gave me the chance to customize a game i greatly enjoy even more to my tastes (not to mention that despite its age, w all the hard work of the community it still can compete w modern games w all the graphic improving mods out etc)

yeah anw, i had a whole squad around my dragonborn, camping out in the night, watching stars, riding through the lands, doing quests together, had them all assigned roles, doodled abt them.....................im trying to get it all how it was but aughh

[whumpitisthen]

hello i am here to ask about your oc grim. i am not zi

Hello not zi i am so excited to introduce you to my rat bastard!

Grim is literally the Grim Reaper. Like actually. He is also a vampire! A very dramatic, thespian, sadistic, scary individual. He likes going on murder sprees. He likes causing problems on purpose and annoying people, as he finds joy in being virtually untouchable by most others on the account of being a deity. He especially likes bothering people who are also powerful and like bullying the weak, but who are not quite powerful enough to talk back and banter with someone who can kill them in a second with the single touch of a finger. Oh yeah, he can kill by merely touching someone, he just enjoys carnage a lot more! It's more challenging and fun to go up one against a thousand, and way more traumatising for those who witness his slaughter in person (Auden. Auden is forever scarred). He does occasionally perform the Kiss of Death i guess, as he is a romantic and simply can't help being slimy and gross about it. A gentle death, all things considered, to die from a kiss

As for appearance, i have been working on a drawing of him, but the issue is that ive worked on it for so long that every time i look at it i hate it more, so its just in perpetual limbo forever. BUT, until i finally post it, i can just describe him!

He has very long silver, near white hair he keeps in a messy ponytail that starts off decent, but gets worse as the day goes on bc hes feral and rabid. He is in all long, flowy black clothing, as he has to stay on theme. Usually a long coat and tall boots, as that is his 'work' outfit (i.e. the stuff he wears to do war and murder and death and crimes) as well as a mask resembling some kind of an Animal's skull. I haven't actually chosen what kind of animal (or maybe i have? I think i landed on a canine skull) but i do actually have some sketches of actual animal skulls i made for ideas that i can show :3

I also thought about having it be like a plague doctor type deal with a bird skull instead but i already have The Doctor (another bastard character of mine), and if anyone, they should have the honor of wearing a mask like that

He also of course has a big heavy scythe, and black tendrils of smoky magic surrounding him when hes extra rabid, which cloaks him and makes him look like the cursed shadow of a dead animal, possibly a hyena if you take into account his unhinged cackling. Only when hes in the mood for killing murder and homicide, otherwise hes mostly shadow magic free

He wears a lot of silver jewellery, which does in fact burn him as he is quite the unholy creature of night; he just doesn't care. If asked about it, hell say its cause he likes how silver looks. (spoiler: the real reason is that he is Absolutely a masochist but you didn't hear that from me, that chapter is still in the works o_o) He has one hand thats just completely charcoal black, and he has black markings running across the skin of his entire body up to his chin, and there are two reasons for that:

When he became the embodiment of death the black magic possessing him cursed/burned him and now he just Looks Like That

I find tattoos incredibly hot, especially covering the neck. Very attractive

Hes also like. A tall guy. For a human hes big lanky tall, like 2 metres (thats around 6'6 apparently) however hes also usually in Hell, and demons can grow to all kinds of insane heights, be it rly tiny or hugely massive. Despite that, even demons triple his height built like a tank and weighing about as much find him to be incredibly unnerving, and instinctually become wary and careful around him. He has that effect on people he's in one room with; some kind of magical aura that causes even the wildest forest around him to become deathly silent upon his arrival. but he's also just kinda. Infamous. Like its hard to find someone who doesn't know who he is, its like trying to find someone in europe or the us whos never heard of jesus or god before. You could maybe find a few people like that, but its very unlikely. So not many walk up to him ready to obliterate him, however much they may want to. He likes looking down on people as much as he likes looking up at massive shit brick houses trying their damnedest to stare him down and assert dominance, not really succeeding. He prides himself on being the most menacing thing around, and not only regarded with fear by the weakest, but also awakening rare terror inside the hearts of the strongest, who aren't used to being on the recieving end of Anything bad. He almost finds it more fun than dunking on those that are already at the bottom of the food chain.

Hes also just a silly goofy guy :) just a silly smiley guy :) its probably why so many interpretations of the grim reaper have a human skull for a head :) its cause hes so silly and so smiley :)

Not Even God Will Be Able To Save You If You Manage To Truly Ruin His Mood :)

And as a last little fun fact, he has a tendency to just. Show Up. Just spawn next to you. Behind you. You could blink and congratulations, suddenly hes in your face and youve died from a heart attack. He just kinda appears, and then hes there. Like imagine youre a big scary demon lord, in a massive mansion, locked behind many walls and doors, guards patrolling every corner, feared by many. you walk into your very safe bedroom, ready to relax. And hes just. there. No one saw him enter. No one will notice when he leaves. Hes just laying on your couch like an asshole, reading your diary. What do you even do about this

You can read about him in Auden's story! He is one of Auden's whumpers! He's gonna be in the forefront in the newest chapter im writing (as well as another surprise mystery guest that will finally be introduced 👀) so be ready for that releasing any time between tomorrow and two weeks from now :-)

[literalite]

asks

these r all the asks i got last night about the whole aesthetic discussion i'll answer in order of when i got them :p

truth b told if i started simblr like. today and knew nothing about photoshop then i'd probably be pretty demoralised too but also thats exactly how it was starting simblr anyway i just worked on it until i was happy w my skills... no one gave me a cheat code i just put time and effort into it

i agree with u im ngl like i do sincerely wish everyone had the opportunity to put hours and hours of their lives into learning how everything about this works if thats what they truly wanted. also if anything doing it solely by urself will make the process all the more time consuming but if u ask around for help people (including me! im down to help fr) will usually give it to u and that'll speed up the process more. being mad at me for having that is pointless what am i gna do go back in time and unlearn it all and for what? dsfghjk

okay i did see this being said a lot and uhhhh i was trying to understand it but like. i also don't. like ok with cluttered aesthetic build shots or yknow the odd landscape with heavy bloom shader on it i guess if ur looking at it completely from that pov yeah i guess it looks like some posts that "blow up" r just sort of the same shit. but the fact remains that its also it's good shit like anyone can clutter a room and take a photo of it what really counts here in my opinion anyhow is shot composition. and there's literally preestablished rules for this sort of thing u can google cinematography basics and get it for free... there's a whole field of study looking into what draws the human eye. like maybe the core concepts behind what makes a popular post popular is the same but thats because it just works. if u wanna shy away from that entirely but then complain about ur posts not being as popular then that's very much a u problem it doesn't have anything to do with the rest of us

amen these are my ocs wdym these are "sims" LOLLL these are the real people living in my head if i bust my ass making them look good then thats a choice i made

u can call this an empathy problem and try explain it to me more but i dont see how other people feeling insecure about what their current ability scales up to is any fault of mine or my problem to bend backwards to try fix... or even how i could. like is the standard high now yeah honestly it is. the learning curve was steep as hell when i first started as well. no disagreements here. but what am i supposed to do about it LMAO like i didn't create the human proclivity to be drawn to beauty i just ride off of it.

idk why i'm the bad guy for being honest for my reasoning behind what i do and don't reblog? lots of other people have been saying they dont really care about aesthetics which is great but if i said that i'd literally just be lying to you. i'm not gonna apologise for not lying... i like being able to see the passion and energy poured into the same video game we're all playing it's only natural to appreciate that- if that reads as passive aggression and u don't understand my stance that's fine by me

i would say for me personally try watch visual media that u can recognise as "beautiful" and not to shit on like. cw shows but i mean stuff that is marked by its cinematography being truly excellent. and just really examine how those set and lighting designers use angles and lighting and how the people filming and editing choose to frame their shots to achieve what works. hell looking at art helps with this too. look at other people's stuff on simblr analytically try to seriously work out why it appeals to people the way it does. ik u asked for editing tips but i think it really starts ingame you can have the most incredible editing style but it doesn't work if ur shot comp doesn't work then it'll won't hit as hard

take time to learn what most of the adjustment layers do on photoshop, and what all the blending layers look like, download other people's psds and play with them on top of ur shots to see what works! what u personally think looks good will be different from what i personally think looks good, i like dramatic lighting and muted colours and mid level contrast so not too strong but i can't speak for whether you will too. ALSO im a religious user of @/simmerstesia's psd set here i think a well chosen shot can be really elevated by using something like this to really give it that final polish

additionally if u have any like really specific questions or need some advice u can ask me on discord my dms are open like i can talk u thru it. promise it's not as daunting as it can look

[scarletsaphire]

hello i am here to ask for 19 and 28 for the writers ask game :3c

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going? I've always been a story teller, for longer than I can remember. My mother will tell a story about how, when I was an infant, just starting to babble, I would spend hours in my crib talking to the teddy bears painted on my walls.

Around the age of 4, my mom helped me make a picture book about a fairy going on an adventure. She did most of the actual writing and drawing and pasting, but I came up with the ideas. I don't remember making it very well, but I remember being proud of it. Its in the attic now.

I was 7 when I decided to try and write a novel for the first time. It didn't make it very far, about 20 handwritten pages of an incredibly cliche fairytale story, but I loved doing it.

I was 11 when I tried again, this time with the motivation of the National Novel Writing Monthly Young Writer's Program. I made it to 10k in a month, and that is still saved on some hard drive somewhere. I don't know where.

I did NaNoWriMo every year since. I've never finished anything, but looking back, that's never been my goal. I just like telling stories, in whatever way that happens to arise. The ending doesn't matter as much as the journey.

I think that's the same attitude as I have towards writing now; finishing something would be nice, sure, but that's not my goal. I don't want to write a novel, don't want to be a great published author, don't want to be popular or well known, even amidst the fandoms i've written and write for now. I want to keep telling the stories I want, wherever those stories take me.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

This is hard. Delightful as a character trait is much easier; that goes to my OC Eromena from the novel I tried to write when I was 12 (which remains my second longest and most planned out original work. If you want to know more ask, but its definitely not good. I love it though.) As far as the one that I enjoyed writing the most? I honestly have no idea. Every character provides such a unique challenge and its so much fun for almost all of them. I can't choose asnsgnksgn

[kingxxlink]

It's uncommon OC ask time!!

Let's do 40 for Eutheria, and F for Link!! >:3c ooo and for good measure....31 for Gage!

OOOO THESE ARE GOOD ONES I'M EXCITED

40: How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Eutheria is incredibly sensitive to and about her flaws. She's headstrong and too proud, all while harboring a secret fear that she, too, will fall to the blight that has spread throughout Yharnam. She generally struggles to work with others, as well, and being aware of that helps push her forward to make a connection with the Vileblood Hunter, Alfred, in the hopes of seeking an end to the endless night.

===

31: Who are they the most glad to have met?

See, for Gage, you'd think the answer would be his partner Dean, but you would be wrong. He's the most glad he met Lyn Ashford (who belongs to @resonantcrimson). Meeting Lyn changed his life in ways he wasn't expecting and through Lyn's love for her brother, Christian, Gage learned that even Hunters can have real, actual families. Sometimes they're blood, sometimes they're not, but family is family.

===

F: What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Interestingly enough, this doesn't change much based on which OC I think of! Overall, I feel a lot of joy and excitement when it comes to my OCs, but for some of the most well-developed ones, I feel a strong sense of pride in my writing and my ability to keep going,e ven when it's hard.

I don't often talk about it, but there was a period of 6-7 years where I just didn't create. I didn't draw, do pixel art, or write, and it was one of the saddest parts of my life because there really was just no joy left to me. Coming out of that and seeing the things I've created in the time since is absolutely a point of pride for me, because I think I've made some amazing work that stands on its own, often even if you don't know the source material (in the case of fanworks).

When it comes to what I create, I definitely feel I deserve every ounce of pride that it gives me. I went through a lot to get this far and I'm determined to see what comes next. <3

[skylitcreations]

Apparently, my bank account has been overdrawn since Dec 16th. We still don't have enough in the wife's bank account for rent and are struggling to get ahold of the office for a promise to pay form. PayPal takes out a chunk of what gets sent every time cuz I had to take out a loan through them just to get by before. I still haven't been able to pay the health insurance from December nor the health insurance for this month. The wife is currently unable to work because of an issue on her job's end, and they are unlikely to provide backpay. I've had to do some refunds as well (for understandable reasons, I do not blame them as they have their own stressors to worry about) while trying to balance art that will hopefully bring in new customers, cokms that I owe and merch designs in my attempt to try and have something AI art can't provide as easily on its own as I've definitely seen a decrease in customers that could possibly use AI to get what they'd want (like OC pieces).

Because of this, I am drawing most every day for the majority of my waking hours, but most people don't publicly see that, so it can look like I'm slacking off when really its just that I can't show the majority of what I've been working on. I'm also having to try and build myself up on other websites cuz twitter (the place I had the most traffic before) is definitely not reliable anymore, and the majority of people have migrated elsewhere. It's also coming up on a year since my brother passed, which means that I have been struggling to not fall into too depressed of a state to draw lately, which is incredibly tough while trying to stay sober enough to work efficiently. I've barely even had the time to just talk with my partners and friends cuz I've been so focused on trying to handle all of this, and it's really wearing on me. I feel useless. I'm working myself so hard and yet still can't make ends meet right now, and it hurts. It hurts to be working so hard and still be unable to pay for our bare necessities. We're running out of easier to make food but have to try and focus what money we get towards rent.

Honestly, it's a disaster, and I'm just doing my best not to break down. I'm worried I'll do all this work and still not make up for the hit that AI and the twitter takeover have put me through. I'm worried that all of this effort will only do so much and not be enough in the end. What in the world would I do then? I don't know, there's so many scary uncertainties right now. I'm trying to keep calm when, deep down, I'm terrified.

[smileymoth]

7, 8, 14

7. Who are some artists that have inspired you? This isn't a difficult question but it's hard to like... describe why someone inspires me. I think the 1 artist that has sort of guided me to find my art style is definitely godlyDescentUFO they mostly post on deviantart/twt of which i don't really use anymore. I still think about their art a lot, and often. The colour palettes they use and the composition and body language of the characters drawn... It's just special to me. I want to replicate it. One day. Again I feel like Ive been too sucked into fandom these past few years to really do what i want to but I'll... I'll explain that later .But yeah they've been my favourite artist ever since I found them. I feel like if you just go thru their gallery you can tell why I like them

Then there's clickbaitcowboy . He's on tumblr go give them a follow. he makes godly oc illustrations and his painting skills are so... so so so so AAHHH. Im in love fr I can't explain it. The shading makes me go insane and the way he draws out anatomy and muscles and fat and just bodies in general... god

supppe, another person who is on tumblr whose colour paletes bring me joy. He makes comics and his art style is super pleasing to the eye

And from current fandom I think everyone can agree that panidanya and wszczebrzyszynie are incredible artists . Panidanyas anatomy and painting skills kill me every time and wszczebrzyszynie has this really nostalgic(?) art style that my heart can get behind. It creates art with such passion and love, you know, you can't deny that. if you look at its art you just know

Other than that the main inspiration i guess comes from my friends, from my mutuals' art. It doesn't have to be something big. It can be as simple as a small detail in someones clothing or the facial expressions. God this reminds me I miss my friends art. Evan you need to make more art I miss you

8. How would you describe your art style?

Matured deviantart emo semirealism. I dont think semi realism really fits my style bc it still feels too cartoony to me. I dont think my art style is really all that well developed idk it lacks identity to me but Im also hyper critical of my art

14. Do you prefer to make fan content or original content? This is a tricky goddamn question I thought about this for like 5 minutes and now Im even more confused. I am an oc artist first. I don't like "original" art in the sense of those paintings that just exist in a vacuum with no character stories behind them. I want something you can follow, you know. I want there to be some form of a story. which i guess is my downfall sometimes. When i draw fandom art i feel like they're also my ocs. esp bc its... its mcyt... You kind of have to make it into your oc because you have 16x16 pixel canvas and someones 2010 kakashi skin to work with.

On the other hand, bc i'm an oc artist, Im making 'fan content' of my ocs. Technically. Do yuo follow. So me drawing my babyboy Daniel 400+ times in a decade is kind of like fan content but Im the only fan... So whats original content and whats fan content.

I do feel like being so intertwined in fandom content may have hindered my art development a little bit, since I completely stopped drawing my ocs for a little while. I didn't get to explore their lives through art as much as I would've wanted to. I haven't been drawing as many backgrounds because I do enjoy mostly drawing interiors and there's not much interiors to talk about when it comes to mcyt... And ive also just been lacking motivation for it.

All in all i think i enjoy "original" art more, because it gives me more, it gives more to my heart. It's not that i don't enjoy drawing mcyt, but I think I should maybe try to draw mcyt in a more personal? matter? Without too much fandomification? I want to make more art that has "meaning" per say, with backgrounds, a story behind them. (this is just for me and what i want to get out of art, this doesn't apply to anyone else. it's such a slippery slope bc i know saying these things may feel hurtful to others but i am only talking about myself.... okay T_T) I dont know if any of this makes sense. I'm always lost in my direction with art and going to art school didn't make it any better <3

I do think that because I've been going thru a lot of personal warfare in the past 3 years, fandom HAS helped me in the sense that it helps me with creativity, since i have been severely lacking in creative thinking, I just struggle with it nowadays, so if I can draw ethubs making out under a tree bc they did so in episode 402 out of season 194 then so be it, at least it'll help me create

[spearxwind]

Oof I'm kinda scared to ask... Why do you not want to be an artist professionally?

Its just like, incredibly miserable in my experience.

Everyone wants their dream job of being paid to draw whatever the hell they want but 99% of the time you are hired and tasked to draw things that you don't have a lot of interest in, professionally speaking, and constantly getting your artistic efforts undermined by the rest of the team (this is esp. true in the videogame industry) artists always try to push for better designs and get their takes watered down for the sake of general public pleasing. Also you don't have a security blanket unless you're under long term contract. Most freelancers live gig to gig with the fear of not being able to support themselves if they don't take a job to take a break. Videogame and movie jobs arent stable because companies never keep the art teams, they are laid off and rehired whenever there is a new project

During my major, I drew nonstop for 4 years for class. Not always things I enjoyed, but also not always things I didnt like. In fact I enjoyed my major immensely! It was so fun. But the burnout is very, very real, and the workload was similar (even inferior to) regular art jobs. What happens if you like to draw in your off time? You spend your days making and pumping out art nonstop for hours, and then on your free time breaks you draw some more? I personally couldn't do it. I just wanted to do other things

And like.... I spent the first three years being told by teachers (people with stable, contract based jobs) how cool of a job it is to do art, and then the last year getting grilled on how insanely hard it is to make it out there. If you don't have connections, money, an audience, a studio, it's actually impossible. You need to be your own lawyer, abide by the very strict self employment rules that take a severe chunk out of your earnings. Do all of your finance/schedule/marketing etc while on top of that constantly producing work (I know there's people who can do it but, personally, I cannot) I really admire the people who were able to build themselves up as artists from the ground like this (because its definitely possible, just insanely hard)

Also, making something you love into your job ends up being miserable too. I experienced this with patreon, which I posted to as like a chill thing and it just got increasingly hard to make content for it or just post in general, even drawing my own ocs and sharing stuff about them started to feel like a chore.

Maybe it's just me though, this has just been my personal experience but yeah in general I realized I am immensely happier just keeping art as a hobby or its gonna suck my soul out (Since I already experienced it)

I don't mean to discourage anyone, I think the world in general needs more artists. But for that we would need to actually be taken seriously and valued, which sadly we are not, at all. And if there's anyone reading that is considering art as a job: it is absolutely grueling. It's not an easy job. Even if you desperately love art it can suck the life out of you and the joy for what you do

(As an extra sidenote. Artists are usually exploited using this mentality as well. That they are supposed to love their job. So they expect you to work your wrists off "For the passion". Dont fall victim to it)

[demonslayedher]

How you doing Buri Senpai !!

Personal question…. How do you manage to get out of your art/writing block/ burnout ? You are an incredible artist and writer and i wish to be like you someday❤️

(///￣ ￣///) Thank you, Anon. Like most other people who do any sort of creative work, I am constantly seeking validation. I don’t think that ever goes away. That is why I’ll give you the truth, I get a lot of happy chemicals from making KnY fanwork, at the expense of any other creative work I could be doing.

There’s lots and lots of discussion out there on what leads to creative burnout and how perfectionism kills success by preventing someone from even starting a project, and anyone who has ever worked hard on something only to feel it met with a disappointing response can tell you about the heartbreak of feeling like none of your efforts are worth anything. It’s very easy to say “write for you, draw what you want, fandom should be fun” but we all know that sometimes it’s not. That’s the best advice I think is out there, though, so I’m just going to expand a bit.

…I tried, but my answers all kept getting rambly. ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)

The truth is that KnY is escapism for me and that is why I create so much of it!! For as long as I’m busy with this, and getting dopamine from making fanwork, my projects I’m willing to tell people about in real life are going to continue to get ignored! O ho ho! I fear failure!! I know they won’t be perfect and that is why I do not wish to create them in the first place! I do not wish to be judged as imperfect!!! Ohhh, ho ho ho ho! O-o-o-o-hhhhhh ho ho ho ho!

Ah. But that’s probably a big reason why I create so much KnY content: the stakes are lower than other things I might wish to accomplish. Since I don’t have any high expectations of my art anymore I can allow myself to relax with it and accept its wonkiness as part of it, if anything, that’s in the spirit of the original manga, right? Also, I’m practiced enough with my drawing that even though I don’t know proper drawing technique, I can intuitively go about bringing a lot of things from my head to paper, so that makes it something I do to relax.

While I have given myself permission to be lazy with art for the sake of enjoying it, I do still harbor the same childhood dream of getting published, even though my understanding of that now comes with vague knowledge of all the burn-outable activities that come with (self-promotion, blaaaaargh, please just let me live under a rock). Sometimes, when I realize just how high my KnY-related word count is, I get aggravated with myself for not having poured that power into my own original projects. But failure would feel so much higher with those, so I stick to what I know I can accomplish, as I lo-o-o-ve the feeling of accomplishing things.

But…

Well…

One of the best times I got that feeling was was when I sat down and actually wrote a few manga short stories, beginning to end, with no idea what I was doing. All it really took was a kick in the pants from someone holding me accountable. I had 55 books printed to basically give away to people. I had them all stacked up when they arrived and was stunned at how slim the spines were. All those hours, poured into that small a result, something that could be consumed and forgotten so easily?

But then again, I had something. Something complete, so that if the topic of OCs ever came up, I hand something to hand to someone, to say, “this.”

It was sometime after that when I crushed my first NaNoWriMo attempt by a long-shot (50,000 words? Pfffhaahahaha, when I’m prepared and have my schedule cleared for it, that’s nothing!), and even though that first novel objectively was terrible, it broke me in and made me realize that I could do it. I’ve written three more full drafts of other stories since then, though I was so frustrated with the overhaul second draft of one of them that I quit on it and then, uh, started watching KnY. Teh heh…

But I guess that really is the drive. To have something I can give to someone to say, “This. I have put my thoughts and feelings to form. It’s a form I can share now.” Sure, it’s really nice to imagine having a fandom following or striking it big with a hit or something, but it would never be enough validation, and that sounds like a sure way to get burnt out.

So even in fandom, even when I get other ideas of what might be fun (or just popular?) blog content, at some level I just want to say “I got this idea, I gave it form, please appreciate it.” And, as is the key to most forms of happiness, I’m really, really grateful for the people who bother to read my wordy work, who leave their thoughts, and who take my ideas and run with them and make new ideas from them. My fandom content isn’t made specifically for my own pleasure, I really, really do get joy out of other people finding joy in it, and satisfaction in knowing I put it into a form that can be enjoyed instead of just having it in my own head. It's like my relaxed attitude toward my drawing, though. In order to keep my fandom fun, I keep my expectations in check so that I can still relax and have fun with it. I don't get involved with things that require effort I don't feel like putting in, I don't hold myself responsible for giving anyone else fandom validation either, it's not a give and take economy of praise. When I want to praise you I will dump it on you and you will know it's from the heart. Keeping things relaxed requires boundaries and embracing one's own laziness, so that you can focus on what you really care about.

But the not-as-fun projects that come with high stakes, the ones that keep calling me… they’re out there, and I need to polish my rough areas to answer the call, someday.

I just fear what becoming my best self will entail.

[luminnara]

Flying On Wings Made From Feathers And Wax | Ganondorf x Gerudo!oc chapter 2

Part one | Part two | Part three

Growing up in the Gerudo Desert is hard. 

The sun is merciless, especially to the small. For someone like Ilula, it is draining, seemingly determined to exhaust her as it beats down on her during the day. It will never stop doing so, but at a young age, she learned how to deal with it. 

The others called her lazy, but she considered herself clever. Just like the lizards that liked to snooze while they sunned themselves, she took naps during the day. It wasn’t that the other Gerudo didn’t—naps were almost a necessity in such a hot environment, and it was common to see be back in an hour signs hanging on merchant stalls—but Ilula simply napped more than the rest of them. 

It concerned her mother greatly. 

Kiluki took her daughter to the best healer in town, the one who looked after the chief and royal family, hoping to find answers about Ilula’s small stature. Just like the Hylian healers, though, this one declared that Ilula was, for the most part, fine, she was just...small. Small, and a bit weak. For Kiluki, a tall, strong vai, who had once been a member of the Chief’s guard, Ilula’s relatively tiny stature and shortcomings were cause for major concern; she knew that many Gerudo never joined the guard, and to keep Gerudo Town running, they needed all sorts. But she wanted Ilula to follow in her footsteps, to become stronger and braver than even she, and Kiluki feared that it was a dream that could never be.

Ilula knew that her mother worked, but what could she possibly do about it? It wasn’t anything that she could control. She spent her days playing or helping Uvira sell her produce while her mother advised the Chief, trying to forget the way that she couldn’t reach things the other girls could. As she grew older, it became obvious that she would never hit a growth spurt, and while Ganondorf shot up like a weed, Ilula stayed at least a head shorter than the others her age. 

“C’mon, pipsqueak!” Ganondorf scooped her up one day, interrupting her midday nap.

“Gan!” She yelped in surprise as he threw her over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance,” the prince grinned as he ran towards the palace. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I’ve got something to show you.”

Even at twelve years old, Ganondorf could carry her easily. He spent his days studying and training, his mother keeping a watchful eye over him and ensuring that her son would become strong and capable. While Ilula had already finished most of her schooling, knowing how to read and write and do simple math, the prince had many years of studies still ahead of him, his chambers lined with shelves full of thick books. Being royalty meant that he needed to know everything about the world, and he enjoyed reading about Hyrule and its politics and history. Ilula didn’t share quite as much appreciation for the Hylian kingdom neighboring the desert, but whenever he was reading, she had a chance to take a nice nap in his incredibly soft bed, and that was something she could absolutely appreciate. 

“It better not be stupid,” she grumbled with a yawn. “Interrupting me on my day off…”

“Day off from what?” He snorted. “You can’t even start real training until you’re twelve. That’s a whole month away.”

“So?” She argued.

“So you can’t possibly be too busy for me,” he rolled his eyes. “Sav’aaq!” He called to the guards at the top of the steps as he passed them. 

“Sav’aaq, my prince!” They snapped to attention, bowing their heads. “Ilula, sav’aaq.”

“Sav’aaq,” Ilula mumbled. She was used to the guards keeping watch over her and the prince, and they had all developed a certain fondness for Ganondorf’s runt of a friend. 

Ganondorf carried her through the throne room, past the chief and her advisors as they pored over a map of Hyrule. They bowed to him as he walked by and he grunted in acknowledgement, too focused on his task to stop and ask what they were doing. 

They allowed him to rush by without interruption. He only had a few years of childhood left before the burdens of leadership would fall on his shoulders, and his mother wished that he enjoyed his time as much as he could. He was growing into a fine young voe, the Sheikah prophecy a distant memory now, and As any voe, he should be enjoying the years of his youth as much as possible.

When he reached his chambers, he threw Ilula down onto his bed. She laughed as she bounced, sitting up to look at him as he grabbed a wooden box from his desk.

“Here,” he said, slightly out of breath as he pushed it into her hands. 

She took it, hearing something rattle inside. “What is it?”

“Just open it!”

With an inquisitive glance up at him, she slid the lid off the box. Inside, something was glimmering, reflecting the light of the desert sun that streamed in through the windows. As Ilula reached inside, she picked up a set of earrings, a teardrop-shaped sapphire hanging from each hook. 

“Oh, Gan,” she breathed, holding the jewelry in her palm as she stared down at it, “these are beautiful…”

He was watching her anxiously. “Do you like them?”

“I do!” She looked up at him with a wide smile. 

The prince let out the breath he had been holding, relieved. “Oh, good.”

“Did you have these made?” Ilula asked, peering closely at the stones. 

“I did,” he smiled. “Just for you. Well, actually, they were going to be a birthday present, but Amira finished them early. I couldn’t hold my tongue for an entire month.”

“This is the best early birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” she beamed up at him. “Thank you, Gan.”

“Oh, they’re not a birthday gift anymore,” he laughed. “I figured out something else for your birthday. These are just normal gifts now.”

Ilula raised an eyebrow. “You really shouldn’t be spending so much time spoiling me, you know…”

“Or what?” He laughed. “You’re my best friend, Lula. You deserve gifts.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m not going to accept them,” she grinned at him as she stood and walked to the mirror on the wall. 

“I put a spell on them.” he blurted out. “To help you stay cool in the sun. Sapphires are good for that.”

She glanced back at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I had the jeweler make them and then I enchanted them. I’m supposed to be practicing, and I wanted to try it out…”

“I can’t believe you know magic,” Ilula said as she faced her reflection. “I wish I could put spells on things.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” he shrugged. 

“Shut up,” she laughed. “It’s a super big deal!”

He watched with a serene smile on his face as she took out the big gold hoops she was wearing and replaced them with her new earrings. Just as he had hoped, the bright blue sapphires contrasted perfectly with her fiery red hair…though the thick green band she used to keep it up off of her shoulders didn’t match at all. He made a mental note to add a new, nicer one to the small pile of birthday gifts he would be giving her in a few weeks. 

Ilula admired the way the sapphires hung from her pointed ears. She had to admit…Ganondorf had an eye for jewelry. Maybe it was because he had so much of it himself; as she looked at his reflection behind her, she could count no less than ten incredibly expensive precious stones on his head and arms alone. The perks of being a prince, she supposed.

When he noticed her watching her, he suddenly shuffled his feet awkwardly, glancing away for a moment before looking down at his hands. 

“I’m, uh…glad you like them.” He mumbled. 

“Gan, don’t be sheepish,” Ilula laughed, turning to face him.

He looked up at her, hoping that she couldn’t see the blush on his face. She was the only person who ever made his skin heat up like that, the only Gerudo he ever wanted to be around, the only vai whose hand he wanted to hold. It confused him, the way he felt about his best friend, but he was headstrong and determined not to shy away from whatever he was beginning to feel. 

“I’ve never seen a sheep,” he chuckled. “What does sheepish mean?”

Ilula’s laughter grew louder as she plopped down on the edge of his bed and looked up at him. “They’re soft. Hylians cut their hair and make things with it. They look like fluffy little clouds with legs.”

Ganondorf grinned. “I can’t wait until I’m king and I can see all of Hyrule. I want to go to the castle, see the Hylians.”

“It’s a long walk,” Ilula said. “…well, Mama carried me most of the way, I think. I don’t really remember much of it. I know it rained a lot before we got to the outskirts, though.”

Ganondorf suddenly sighed and turned to the window. He walked towards it, placing his hands on the cool sandstone and leaning on them as he looked out over Gerudo Town and the wide, flat desert outside the gates. 

“What is it like there?” He asked, gazing towards the distant mountains that marked the Gerudo Highlands and the edge of Hyrule. 

Ilula frowned at his change in demeanor and stood to join him. “It’s…green. Everything is green, and you can smell all the plants. And there’s so much water, everywhere…when it rains, it isn’t like here. It just rains for a few hours, and then the sky clears up again, and the birds come back out.”

“It sounds…nice.” He admitted.

“It is,” she agreed. “You can just lean down and drink out of a stream if you’re thirsty. And if you’re hungry, there are apple trees all over! And fish in the rivers, and boar in the woods…”

“I like boar,” Ganondorf laughed.

“Yeah, they taste pretty good, I guess. When you add enough spices.” Ilula shrugged.

“No, not to eat!” He looked at her like she was crazy. “I like the way they look. Those big tusks…there are drawings of them in some of my books. I’ve always liked them.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re pretty cool.” Ilula giggled. “There are lots of other animals, too.”

“Life there must be easy.” He commented. “The Hylians have it all.”

“What do you mean?” Ilula frowned. “I thought you liked the desert.”

“I do, I just…wish we had things like grass and trees and forests. I wish we lived more comfortably.”

“You live very comfortably.” Ilula snorted. 

“What do you mean?” He looked down at her, nose wrinkled slightly. 

“Uh, all of this?” She gestures to the room around them. “The palace? You’re royalty. You hardly have to worry.”

“I have to think about our people!” He argued. “What’s Castle Town like?”

“Busy and big.” Ilula shrugged. “The streets are all made of stone, and there’s a big market where people from all over sell things. Mama didn’t let me go there very much, because of the way the Hylians are sometimes.”

Ganondorf looked down at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“They don’t really…trust Gerudo that much.” She folded her arms, hugging herself lightly. “They don’t treat the Rito or the Zora like Hylians, either, but they like them more than they like us.”

As Ganondorf listened, he considered her words. “I’m going to change that.”

“You’re going to change how they think?” She asked skeptically.

“I’m going to show them that they should respect us.” He said. 

“How?”

“Maybe I’ll…send them aid, if they have a natural disaster.” He thought out loud. “Or take a big delegation to visit the castle, or invite them here.”

“The king can’t enter Gerudo Town,” Ilula laughed. “You’re the only voe allowed. Remember, you spoiled prince?”

“Oh. Right.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m going to be in charge someday. I’ll have to figure out this whole diplomacy thing.”

Ilula smiled softly as she looked up at him. “I’m sure you’ll be good at it.”

He grinned down at her. “Only if you help me.”

She returned the grin. “Deal.”

“I don’t think I could handle the throne without you,” he bumped her with his shoulder, nearly throwing her into the wall. “I still have so much I have to learn.”

Ilula stumbled, but she didn’t fall like the last few times he had forgotten how big he was. “That’s why kings always have advisors. Nobody can run everything by themselves.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighed, his attention returning to the world outside his window. “I’ve got six whole years to figure it out, though.”

“Yeah, and it’ll be fine.” She tried to bump her shoulder into his arm with the same force that he had, but he didn’t budge. “Hey, seriously, are you made of rock?”

He barked a laugh. “No, I’m just bigger than you!”

“Well stop it!” She snapped, only half serious. “If you keep this up, you’re not even going to be able to see me!”

“Maybe you should just start catching up!” He retorted.

“I would if I could.” She rolled her eyes. “My mom keeps making me go to the healers to figure out why I’m so short. I keep trying to tell her that it’s not that big a deal, but she won’t listen.” 

As she spoke, her tone grew more serious, until it had Ganondorf frowning. “You’re fine.”

“That’s what I keep saying, but it doesn’t matter.” Ilula sighed. “She’s always worrying that I’m going to get hurt because I’m fragile. I always tell her that I’m not, and I know I’m not because you’re always throwing me down off the walls or into the aqueducts or whatever, but she just always gets mad and tells me to be more careful.”

“Do I ever hurt you?” Ganondorf asked, his eyes wide in alarm. 

“No, you don’t,” Ilula shook her head. “I’m serious, I’m not that fragile, but all she ever sees is me lagging behind everyone else. That’s why I want to start training with the guards, so I can show her that I’m fine.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You know, if you start training, you’ll be busy all the time…”

“Gan, they train literally right outside your window.” She rolled her eyes. “You won’t miss me. I’ll be right there.” 

“…oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“But I bet my mom is going to be all worried about me training, too.” She sighed. “Until i show her that I’m not some fragile little flower. You know, back in Castle Town, I was always the biggest kid. She didn’t worry as much back then.”

“Do you ever miss it there?” Ganondorf asked, studying her face. 

“Sometimes. I miss everything I could get at the market, and I do miss my father. But…I didn’t fit in there. I guess I don’t really fit in here, either.”

“Yes you do.” He nudged her with his elbow, gentler this time. “You’re Gerudo. You belong here, with your people. With me.”

Ilula smiled up at him. “I know, Gan. I think it’s less about the place, and more about who’s there. You know?”

He looked down at her, his heart fluttering in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah. I know.”

000

On Ilula’s twelfth birthday, she woke to the smell of meat cooking over the fire. As soon as her eyes were open, she remembered what day it was, and she shot out of bed to investigate the main room of the home she and her mother shared.

“Sav’otta, my little desert flower,” Auntie Uvira greeted her as she prepared breakfast over the small wok in the middle of the room. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” Ilula shrugged. “Where’s Mom?”

“Right here,” Kiluki appeared in the doorway, a parcel in her hands. 

Ilula eyed it. “Sav’otta, Mama.”

“Sav’otta, Ilula,” Kiluki smiled, holding the parcel out towards her. “Happy birthday.”

Ilula lunged for it excitedly, tearing the wrappings open while Uvira yelled at her to be mindful of the fire. 

As the brown paper fell away, airy pink fabric was revealed, and Ilula pulled out a bandeau top. Matching pants were next, made of a thin, breathable weave, and as she rushed back to her room to try the new outfit on, Kiluki smiled. 

“How do I look?” Ilula asked breathlessly when she returned, holding her arms out as she spun around to show it off.

“Oh, it’s stunning!” Uvira clapped.

“I think it suits you perfectly,” Kiluki nodded. “How is the fit?”

“I think it’s good. What’s for breakfast?” Ilula was buzzing with energy, bouncing over to look at what Uvira was cooking. 

“This is for later,” her aunt laughed as she sprinkled in some Goron spices. 

“We will be eating breakfast at the palace,” Kiluki informed her daughter. “That’s why I wanted to give you that gift first thing in the morning. You should look your best.”

Ilula grinned. Eating at the palace meant getting to see Ganondorf, and as she rushed to get ready, she wondered what sort of gifts he had in store for her. 

She found out soon after she walked through the impressive archway and approached the throne. The chief sat with her hands on its armrests, her back straight as she looked down at Ilula and Kiluki.

“The prince and queen mother are awaiting your arrival, Ilula,” she said, her voice firm and strong. “I would not keep them waiting. Kiluki, if I could have a quick word.”

Ilula glanced up at her mother in confusion, but when Kiluki waved her off, she was eager to run towards the dining hall. It was her birthday, after all, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to worry about anything. Whatever the chief wanted wasn’t of her concern, and when she saw Ganondorf waiting for her with a pile of gifts, any and all thoughts about what her mother could possibly be needed for flew out the window.

“Happy birthday, Ilula,” Ganondorf’s mother, Mira, said, a smile on her face as she watched her son shove a box into Ilula’s arms.

The Gerudo royal family spared no expense. Ganondorf had given her a sapphire necklace, one that matched the earrings, and a ruby wrist cuff that he said would keep her warm at night when the desert winds pierced Gerudo Town. His eyes lit up at the sight of her happiness, and though he had certainly given her birthday gifts before, he was especially glad to see that all of his hard work and pondering over what to get had all paid off this year. He gave her a new sirwal, the light, baggy pair of pants a bright white with golden accents threaded throughout. Then came an assortment of her favorite candied fruits, a beautiful sand sealskin journal, and the biggest breakfast feast she had ever seen.

By the time the unwrapping was finished, the table was covered in a plethora of delicacies. Everything from platters of sliced hydromelons, to gourmet meats hunted in the highlands, to rare seafood brought all the way from the coast, was piled up and presented to Ilula. It was a lavish celebration, the kind usually reserved for holidays or royal birthdays, and with Kiluki returning from the throne room to partake, the festivities were finally truly underway. 

The adults drank as the children laughed and played. They were nearly too old to be doing so, both nearing the age at which they would begin training for adulthood, and one last romp before it all started seemed to be in order. The day was full of merriment and their spirits were high, and as the two tore out of the palace to get themselves into trouble elsewhere, Mira turned to Kiluki with a sigh. 

“He will be devastated,” she said.

“As will she.” Kiluki raised her cup to her lips and drank. 

“How long do you have?”

“I do not know.” Kiluki lifted her eyes. “Ryla did not say…all I know is that we are to return to Castle Town when she deems fit.”

“Why is she sending both of you?” Mira asked. “I hardly see the sense in taking Ilula away from her training.”

“I believe she wants us to keep up appearances.” Kiluki sighed. “Perhaps by the two of us seeming to return home, the Hylians will be less on edge.”

“Still…” Mira sighed again. “I am sure we will all be focused on our tasks, but your absence will be hard.”

“I only wish I knew when we would be leaving.” Kiluki frowned. “Ryla told me that it could be tomorrow, or in five years.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll be allowed to visit home…”

“I doubt it.”

“Not even if Ganondorf requests it?”

Kiluki pursed her lips. “Perhaps after he takes the throne, he will summon us back to Gerudo Town. I should hope he will see the value in placing me amongst the Hylians, though, and so close to the royal family…”

“Like a spitting sand cobra, nestled right within their own walls,” Mira chuckled. “You must do your job well, for Ryla to send you back again.”

“Yes, I suppose I must. Though it was easier back then.”

“Will you return to that voe?”

Kiluki wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps, if he is willing to see reason.”

“What did you even fight about?”

“Everything.” She shrugged. “Hylian voe have a single use. The rest of the time, they are wholly disagreeable.”

Mira threw her head back and laughed, the hearty sound echoing off the sandstone walls. “That they are! That they most certainly are.”