#that i didnt get back then btw

[foosybit]

whos ready for mayoshino tour im not

[andstuffsketches]

more Batgirl redraws

[umblrspectrum]

hi im back

[rox-of-iu]

a bingbing that i made back in december but never posted and only found now when looking for something in my files

i remember that the context was that i saw one too many bad faith binghe takes (on twt) so i sat down and doodled my little guy so i would feel normal lol

[mohntilyet]

they hated illario because he was a d1 yapper who was bad at assassinating people and was so annoyingly drunk and grief stricken at his cousin’s wake that viago had to drug him to shut him up (so what if he was also the guy who set his cousin up to die/disappear) . and also for working with the venatori and selling out the antivan crows i guess.

[diddlesnap]

my haymitch super edition prediction is that theres a weird and unnecessary romantic tension between haymitch and katniss's mom

[waterghostype]

i will only break your pretty things, i will only wring you dry of everything

[rusticottage]

Oak Verdevale at Whimsy Legacy Expanded Gen 2 compilation post 🍎

[starry-bi-sky]

What would a mother not do for her child What lengths would a mother not go There's a bond that exists between mother and child With no end to how strong it can grow It's a promise for life between mother and child It begins from the moment of birth.

================

She is six years old, and standing on the porch at her Auntie Alicia’s cabin. She is six years old, and holding an old rifle in her hands, standing at the railing and pointing the nozzle at a large target a couple feet away. There’s a pair of old ear muffs covering her ears. Behind her is her daddy and her sister, and Auntie Alicia. She can’t see them. 

Danielle Martha Fenton is six years old, and her momma has her arms wrapped warmly around her, keeping the gun steady for her. It’s heavy and the butt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably, and she feels nothing but determined. And nervous. 

Her momma was teaching her and Jazzy how to shoot, and they’re down in Arkansas to visit Auntie Alicia for her second “Divorce-iversary” as Auntie calls it. She keeps a hunting rifle in her gun safe for the rabbits that like to nibble on her garden. She mostly grows rhubarb, which goes untouched. But her carrots and greens and other veggies like to be tempting snacks for the game. 

Regardless, she is six years old and learning how to shoot. Her momma and her daddy (mostly her daddy) have been banned from every shooting range outside of Amity Park in a hundred mile radius. So Auntie is the best place to learn, or so momma says. 

Danny thinks it's just an excuse to see her sister, not that she's complaining. She loves visiting Auntie.  

She’s already seen Jazzy do this, her momma told her before the muffs went on to shoot when ready. No use trying to fire when you’re not; you can’t afford to miss when shooting ghosts. 

Danny breathes out steady, just like momma taught her, and quells her trembling little fingers. She focuses down the barrel, and pulls the trigger. 

Immediately, the recoil throws her off, the side of the gun that her cheek was resting on knocks against her skin, harsh enough to bruise if it weren’t for her momma’s steady hands holding onto her. The bang of the gun startles her more than she thought it would, and her heart leaps up and runs a jackrabbit through her chest. 

The gun is carefully slipped out of her hands, and Danny lets it go easily, her cheek smarting in pain and her eyes wide and following up to momma. Momma turns the safety on, and with a gentle hand, pushes against her chest. Danny takes a few steps back, and slips the ear muffs off her head. 

Mommy is smiling big at her, something that Danny can’t help but replicate on her own face as her heart swells. “Did I get it, momma?” She asks, watching as she passes the gun off to Auntie Alicia, who steps over to take it.

“I’m going to go see, sweetie, but I think you did.” Momma coos, before planting both her hands on the porch railing and, in a single leap, vaults over the side and onto the grass. She’s dressed all comfortable for the summer heat, with her hair all tied back and in shorts and a tank top and nice boots. Danny’s ribs swell hopefully, and she stands on her tiptoes to watch her walk over.

“I’ll be hard-pressed to believe if you didn’t, Martha Mae,” Auntie tells her, grinning like a cat, “that was a damn good shot.” 

‘Martha Mae Knight’ was Danny’s granny’s name. Auntie Alicia calls her that because of her middle name — and because, by her words, she has her momma’s weird-shaped eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The kind that could scare a hawk into singing like a robin. It was Danny’s favorite nickname ever.

Daddy laughs brightly, the sound painful on her ears but twice as nice, and despite the distance, Momma whirls her head around to shoot Auntie a glare; “Language, Alicia. Not around my girls.” She warns. Her accent always comes through when they’re around Auntie. It’s Danny’s favorite thing to listen to. 

“Do you think so, auntie?” Danny says, bright-eyed and ever-optimistic. Auntie Alicia nods fiercely as Momma finally reaches the target and searches for the bullet hole. Daddy then comes up behind her, still laughing, and claps a hand onto her shoulder so hard that it makes her knees hurt.

“Of course she did!” Dad boasts, as bright as the sun and twice as warm. He shakes Danny affectionately, wobbling her on her feet and pulling her straight into his side. She goes so willingly with a burble of giggles. “She’s got the eyes of a Fenton! And our family are darn good shots.”

Auntie eyes him up and down, her smile immediately fading off into a pressed line. “I’m sure you mean she’s got the eyes of a Knight. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at twenty paces, Jack Fenton.” 

Jazzy holds back giggles from where she’s standing by the door, her ear muffs in hand, and Danny watches her Daddy’s dark eyes immediately narrow. Just like Auntie’s, his smile tapers off into a frown. 

Before he can say anything, there’s a cheer from the yard, and they all turn to Momma clapping her hands in delight. 

Danny immediately pricks her ears up, and would’ve darn near rushed over to the railing if it weren’t for her Daddy’s hand on her shoulder. She yells instead, excitement thrumming like a hummingbird against her ribs, “Did I hit it, momma?!” 

Momma beams at her with all the pride in the world, “You sure did, Danny!” And she turns to press her finger against the target, right on the inside red ring of the battered old bag. “Right here, sweet girl!” 

There are cheers from all around, and Danny’s heart bursts inside her lungs with shiny, sunshine glee. She puffs her chest out big, and smiles so wide it hurts the cheek where the gun smacked her. Her Daddy shakes again, squeezing her tight against his side in a hug that Danny happily reciprocates. 

“What’d I tell you, Martha Mae?” Auntie tells with a big wink and a wide grin, the gun still gripped tight in her hands as Momma makes her way back over. “You got a Knight’s eye.” 

When Momma makes it back over the railing, she hugs Danny tight and praises her shot. Danny looks her in the eyes and chases the feeling, and asks to shoot again.

[ganondoodle]

Sorry ab the shitty English translations/localizations, it's bc they think that Americans won't get it otherwise (bc when we act stupid, we act REALLY stupid), our bad 💀

[fiddles-ifs]

BLOG UPDATE 10-30-24

[ID: A photoset of three images. The first two images are a parchment texture on a black background. The first image is white text, and a navigation sidebar to the left of the main body of text. The sidebar reads: 'THE KING'S PHYSICIAN, written by Elliot Z. Chapter 00: Asclepius. NEW GAME, LOAD GAME, SETTINGS, GLOSSARY, MAP, CHARACTERS, ACHIEVEMENTS.' NEW GAME is highlighted with a distressed scroll image. At the bottom of the sidebar are links leading to Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram.

To the right of the sidebar, the main text reads: 'PROLOGUE: ASCLEPIUS.

The ground stinks. It meets your hands in a shower of wet mud, an explosion of sick and blood, soaking the spaces between your fingers. When your vision focuses again, finally stops wobbling around and making double of itself, you find your palms soaked red. You crawl on your hands and knees to the body in front of you. You turn them over on their back. A man, not one of yours, and you slap his face a few times before you realize his eyes are milky and staring ahead, unblinking. There’s nothing you could do for him now. You look at his legs and find them still facing downwards. They didn’t move with the rest of him.

All the information comes to you backwards — his bisected waist, the guts spilling across the dirt, red, red and so much red. You stand up numbly. Your horse lies dead several feet away, and you remember in your haze that’s the reason why you were bucked off. You try and look at something — anything — else.

There is nothing else. All around you are limbs and blood and battle. Everything moving so slowly, mosquitoes caught in cooling amber, a slurry of death. You feel lost, a scarecrow in a burning field. Your ears ring. It all feels distant. Too distant. You need to move.

You turn to see a flash of white steel against the burning sun, and weakly raise your arms to try and block the blow with what little padding you have on. You move so slow.'

The other images feature the same text. The second image features a black background and red links. The third image is yellow parchment paper with red links and black text. /end ID]

happy update day!! i have to be up in. checks watch. six hours. so the update is coming at exactly midnight, and then i'll queue appropriately. but steady progress is being made on tkp!! im taking a small break from greenwarden to focus on making tkp and erinys look nice as a side project to querying agents for my book. it's a process. yk how it is.

what you see right now are mockups, the actual product looks uh. well. it looks like this

far cry from how i want it to look, but im working on it.

after finishing the css, all i have to do is write and edit chapter 1 and it'll be ready for demo release!

also, happy spooky season! im working on something for greenwarden that most certainly will not be done by Halloween, but i think you'll like it. it involves costumes and maybe stickers. watch this space

[skunkes]

[corsairspade]

Halenthir scenario where they get married for tax benefits (in a platonic good friends sort of way) and fall in love long distance via sending each other letters with ideas on how to best leverage their marriage for tax evasion.

[sidesteppostinghours]

ok. question.

ortega ended up hallucinating sidestep after they "died", but sidestep doesnt know about that. they know it got bad, but never the full extent of how their death affected them. so if your sidestep Did learn, if they found out ortega looked for them in every little piece they could, would that change anything for your sidesteps? would their relationship with ortega be any different?

[pup-pee]

i just i jist i justi just i just i jsut i just ji jstu kji just i just

“kinda” a redraw of this but not rlly like @ all

[terranceholdsapencil]

I've got a dog! He's called Fred!

My dog is alive he's not dead!

I love my dog, he loves me too.

I haven't got a cat only a dOg!

MY DOG, MY DOG, MY DOG, MY DOG

I've got a dog! I love my dog!

He's my dog he's not your dog. If you want a dog get your oOown!