#should i link/reblog them here or is that sacrilege

[laikabu]

i am not going to lie making labru expys that are both canonically trans is more fulfilling to draw/write about than doing fanwork right now. im still gonna draw fanart of course but maybe this is the cure for ship tunnel vision lol

[bouncybrain]

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! This means my art and writing. This means not giving it to AI.

REBLOGGING IS NOT REPOSTING. YOU SHOULD REBLOG ALL THE TIME.

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Straw Page because I wanted to play with it a little so I just kind of have one, now? [link]

Toyhouse eventually with more images and others' art. (More characters than Art Fight.) [link]

CharacterHub with more characters and information, but less art. [link]

UnVale which is in-progress, with more characters and worldbuilding, but less art. [link]

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FNaF AUs: [link] (Consists of Fazbear Exploration Center, Mertendants, and Sacrilege.)

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[spaceasianmillennial]

Bite-Sized Origin Stories of Clan Wren

As I was grappling with conflicting ideas for origin stories for Clan Wren I ended up deciding to weave the ideas into one composite. I have done experimental fanfictions like this before, so here’re a series of tales about the origin story of Clan Wren that may be transported to AO3. Consider this a teaser of what’s to come. Crediting @eyeloch​ for a headcanon utilized here. Eyeloch will know when it comes up.

Version 1

“Sabine, my dear niece, beloved young Countess, there once was a Wren. He was Abel Wren, who flew down onto Krownest where he met the vivacious tribal ruler. They dueled as equals, married, and ruled the riches of the beskar together on Krownest. He planted the flag on the Krownest dirt. He taught the people to forge their own armor and helmets. And we lived as Clan Wren of our Mandalorian homeworld.”

Version 2

“Countess Sabine, I know the tale so well, there once was a Vizsla who planted his flag onto the dirt of Krownest. Abel Vizsla. A tribal daughter ruled the planet and she battled Abel. It was stalemate. Then she slammed down the spear in submission and she offered him her hand in marriage, seeing use in his power. But on condition that he would surrender the Vizsla name, he could attain a dowry of her world. A man hungry for independence from his main Clan, he agreed and became a Wren, a ruler of independence while remaining linked to Clan Vizsla. Thus Clan Wren thrived in the Mandalorian world.” 

Version 3 “My daughter, I will tell you this secret in this domain, in this buried archive. All prospective chieftains will know this story and take this story with them for their heirs. The story you have been told of Abel Vizsla will take a different shape. The story of his duel and marriage to the Krownestian chieftain,  is difficult to devise. But through marriage, Abel Vizsla inherited the land from her, so his bloodline could inherit the chieftain title. And he succeeded. For generations, Vizslas ran the land of Krownest. The wealth of beskar came at a price. All the machines of Vizsla spewed its poison into the skies and cloaked Krownest into its long winters. As the ancestral land was being poisoned, the members of the Krownestians slowly married and allied into the Clan Vizsla, learning to forge armor and helmets to match the Mandalorian strength, harboring a conspiracy whispered to progeny of the Krownestrian bloodline. All secrets escalated into the long-awaited Civil War within the Clan Vizsla of Krownest and even tribemembers married into the Vizsla begin upending their Vizsla in-laws. Then there was a definitive duel with the Vizsla ruler and one of the tribal bloodline members, directly from the noble lineage of the original Abel Vizsla, a Countess. The Countess won and they claimed the Vizsla throne, declaring themselves Chieftain of Clan Wren, after the name of their long-lost tribe. Of course, this didn’t mean freedom. Knowing they would have to prove themselves, the Countess coached Clan Wren to bow down to the Vizslas of Mandalore Space, knowing that it would serve them better to open their routes to the outside world and claim the crumbs of power that Vizsla could grant them. The true head of Clan Vizsla deemed them worthy allies who won back their domain fair and square through war and kept them around on condition they would be lifelong allies to Vizsla. So Clan Wren survived under Mandalore’s umbrella.” 

Version 4

“Father.” The boy peered into the pit, down the ladder.

“Come down, Tristan. Nothing in here will bite.” So Tristan obeyed, slided down the ladder, his ice-caked soles hitting the carpet. He was surprised by the line up of relics, contained in glass, old scrolls and texts and sometimes vase shaped like urns.

“I’m not supposed to show you this, yet. Well, your mother will show it to you. But I feel it’s something you should know sooner. There’s something here.”

Tristan thought it was one of the hidden shelters scattered through Krownests, and perhaps that was true, for there appeared to be separate quarters and cabinets of essentials, but it felt like walking into a museum rather than a shelter.

The Father led Tristan to a quarters in dim light. At the end was a band, with patterns carved into it, but otherwise unremarkable from the distance, open, not entrapped in a casing.

“There was a before time, when the family were not Mandalorians. There was a time where it wasn’t a beskar helmet, but a beskar band that be refashioned for the crown of its owner. That was when Clan Wren wasn’t Mandalorian.”

“But we came from Mandalore. We migrated. Abel migrated.”

“That is true, Tristan, you’re part of Abel’s bloodline. But that is what we tell in the history books we share with Mandalorian space. But there is a more insular history we have, once that disinterests Mandalorian Space, the side of us, that once wasn’t Mandalorian. The part where we don’t call Abel’s travels a migration but a conquest. It’s usually the Chieftain, your mother, who would give this information first to direct heir, but I believe you should have this knowledge right now.” 

Tristan swallowed. “Is Sabine dead?” 

Father’s hands landed hot on his shoulders. “Sabine isn’t dead. But the family seeks to move on without her. I don’t understand it. You might grow to understand why it’s happening this way, I might too, but we might never understand it itself.”

Tristan felt the heat of something gushing beneath his eyes. The Father waited until the last drops fell before lifting the band from its case. Tristan flinched, suspecting that his Father was committing sacrilege

“I have none of the Wren’s bloodline and I’m only a historian married into the family, but I’ll prepare you for what you mother would want for you in hopes you’ll have less of a burden in time to come.” 

Tristan stood still as father rested the crown on his head, such a gentle weight, though the boy did not move in fear he would tarnish this relic. The elder Count humbled himself to one knee to his young Count.

“The ending is the same, Chieftain Tristan, however the story may shape-shift, sometimes closer or farther from the truth, and Sabine or no Sabine, there is Clan Wren.”

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