he/him, trans(ftm), lgbtq, love music, playing guitar, aftg and honestly i have a lot of hyperfixations and they change every few mins -_-
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Fellas is it Gay to be a Warlock? [SPEEDPAINT]
Finished artwork from todayâs video!
I decided to indulge in a wee bit of a hyperfixation this week by drawing my Warlock, Felix, and revealing his Patron Kevinâs less Squid-ly appearance (which was designed by our awesome DM!) đđŚ â had so much fun inking all these little interactions! \(^^)/
If you wanna see the process that went into these artworks - (and hear the stories behind them!) - check out the full speedpaint over on YouTube!
(DO NOT EDIT OR REPOST TO OTHER SITES / ACCOUNTS!)
#iâ *sniff* i love them sO mUch#shipđ#art#dungeons and dragons#original characters#digital art#kevin#felix#clip studio#ink#full body#torso#reblog
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If I were to sit with God, I would first tell him to sit across from me. We will be on equal ground for this. I will look at his face, I will study his hands. I will try to find his humanity in the way we find godhood in the set of oneâs jaw, in the veins of our arms.
I will stare critically, for a while, to look for the discomfort we find in human faces. I will look for signs of blemish, for baby hairs and crows feet.
(What god would I want, that does not smile kindly? I will wait to see if he will smile kindly.)
I will study the line of his shoulders, I will try to find a hint of the humbled curve born from failure, from fear, from grief.
I will try to find the humanity in his image, and I will be unsurprised when I do not find it.
If I were to speak with God, I would ask him-
Why?
And if he is as omniscient as he claims, he will know all the countless Whyâs encapsulated within the word.
Why are we here? Why do you let us ache, like this? Why did you create kindness and cruelty in unequal measures?
Why is it so easy for us to lose our humanity- to fool ourselves into becoming gods of damnation, of fire, of blood, of hatred?
I will ask, in words, if that is the image we were molded into.
I will allow him to respond. I cannot guess what he might say. He will try to stand, leave the conversation, and I will latch onto his wrist and I will make it bruise.
I will tell him No. You will stay. You will listen to this prayer.
I will look for a clenched jaw, I will look for narrowed eyes, I will look for any hint of the red shades of anger, of pride.
I will tell him what weâve done. I will tell him we are beautiful as much as we are ugly. I will tell him of the birds in the trees, and the grass under our feet, and how the gardens we create are as much Eden as the first.
I will tell him he did not banish us from Eden- we took it with us. We made better ones.
I would tell him of the music we create, how it fills us so full of emotion that we become star systems of life.
I would tell him of the stories we made for the constellations, I would tell him of the wonder and the loneliness that makes us look to the moon for any answer she might give us.
I would tell him of the horrors, and ask if he knows what it means to be frightened. To grieve for people you donât even know. I would see if he knows what it is to be asked what did you do to make this happen to you?
I would ask if he knows what it means to be blamed for the actions of others.
I would wait for an answer. I would be unsurprised and undaunted at his silence.
If I were to stand before God, towering above him, I would make him cower in my shadow.
I would look him in the eye- I would view the unending with a dispassionate stare.
I would tell him that we are in his image- I would tell him that we have made countless, unending things from images. I would tell him that the creativity he gave us has made us as much God as he is.
I would let him draw his own conclusions from this.
If I were to stand before God, I would scream until my voice faded, and still I would continue.
I would tell him he has lost his humanity. I would tell him he will never do enough to earn our forgiveness. I would tell him it is his turn, to be frightened of the end.
I would tell him he must ask forgiveness. He must stay there on his knees and beg our mercy.
I would tell him we have always been more than he intended- I would tell him that he made his first mistake, and there is no going back.
If I were to leave God, there, on his knees- I would turn my back to him.
Perhaps he will ask- how can I ask forgiveness if you are not listening?
Perhaps, even- you cannot walk away. You have given me these instructions, you must allow me the chance to follow them.
Unthinkably, even- Wait. Please. Do not leave me here.
Youâve found it. Felt it, just now. I would say, How does it feel, hm?
How is it to be human?
He would have no answer- there is none.
I would spare one last look to the heavens, so drenched in the blood of innocents, the ache of lost love, hope, life.
I would hear the cry, rising from the earth. I would listen to the endless unanswered prayers, supplications. I would shake with the rage of it, the grief, the overwhelming empathy, understanding.
I would collapse under the weight of it.
And then, to my surroundings, a utopia bought from suffering. I would view this utopia and find nothing worth saving. Nothing is worth the cruelty we have been shouldered.
And I would flood the heavens with tears.
Genesis // c.m.
#shit#i was⌠not ready for that#religious trauma#humans are good actually#poetry#spilled ink#reblog
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She hadnât thought the shuttle would be this empty - just two other passengers, both human. âWolf Paradiseâ as it translated was a fairly unpopular system, having little of interest aside from its binary star system and pastel banded clouds. The planet itself was uninhabitable and helium mining was prohibited by one of the treaties protecting primitive life (some sort of floating bacteria-analog, sheâd read). Still, sheâd heard enough about human tourism to expect more visitors to the slowly growing habitat orbiting Wolf Paradise.
She wasnât sure whether to be more or less nervous that her first time meeting humans was almost one-on-one, allowing her to get a close look at the deathworlders. They both arrived earlier than she did, waiting patiently in not-quite-opposite seats for the shuttle to launch. They were both still, staring distantly at the opposite walls. Rather disappointing, she supposed, compared to the horror stories about human boredom.
She stowed her luggage just in time for the pilot to announce their departure, and settled into a seat. It would be a long flight, but she liked watching people. Almost immediately after the announcement, one of the humans closed their eyes and leaned their head back against the wall, a low sound like a musical purr emerging from their throat.
After a few minutes the other started to move - drumming their fingers in a simple wave, then tapping out a steady beat with their foot, and suddenly bursting into a complicated cadence with both hands. Her gill-slits flared with surprise at the sudden, almost violent motion. The other human lazily opened their eyes to watch for a bit, so she settled back down.
The humanâs drumming was almost hypnotic - a steady but continually changing rhythm that took advantage of everything within reach. Their foot kept a steady time, and their hands tapped precisely against their legs, the seat, each other, and their legs again. She noticed that the humanâs whole body moved in time - head nodding subtly, even breathing with the beat.
âAre you a percussionist?â the other human asked, waiting for a pause in the pattern.
The drummer stopped, visibly shifting focus to the other human. âOnly for a year when I was in high school, why?â
âEvery percussionist Iâve ever met has done that, but very few people who arenât do it.â
The drummer seemed to consider for a moment. âI guess when itâs banging two things together youâre never not able to make music. Itâs like my hands itch for it when Iâm bored.â
âThatâs something pretty human, I think.â said the other, flashing me a grin. âMaking music just because you can. I think this trip could do with a bit more music. Tell me, do you know any space shanties?â
The other human sang. The drummerâs rhythm gave strength to the melody, and the singer built off their rhythm. She was reasonably sure the two were strangers, but they wove the song as one. It seemed almost a tangible thing, music clinging to the skin of the ship and leaking out into the cold void of space.Â
Now she knew why so many of the guides to humans referenced the myth of the siren - the power in the simple song of two strangers made even her want to join in. She settled for watching and listening as the humans wove music together for hours - just because they could.
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âHumans are such a pathetic little thingâ, the Ambassador of Elriene said, on her all-mighty, echoing voice. âAlways trying to show off, to look better than the pathetic, soft, flesh creatures they truly areâ.
The flames of the broken ship were getting bigger, hungrier, consuming whatever they could. A precise, surprise attack to get more treasures.
The Ambassador played with the crystal ball on her hand, watching as it glew with sunlight. All the aliens below her lowered their eyes, terrified of her wrath. For the Ambassador, this was all but another day of work, conquering and taking everything the Land of Elriene deemed below them. And she was their terrifying, beautiful beast.
âHumans are a plagueâ, she said, sounding like a whisper. âA crooked, evil plague. They take what they want, they leave sickness behind. They do not care about any of you, for their greed is far stronger than any sense of love. You are all lucky for having me there; otherwise, your little humans would for sure destroyed you in order to survive this deathworld you crashed inâ.
Then, like she wanted to make her cruel joke come to a conclusion, she turned to one of her guards. He immediately grabbed one of the three humans that were lying on the ground, tossing him to the Ambassadorâs front.
The earthling whispered curses as he raised his head, staring into her cold eyes.
âPathetic thingâ, she said. âWhat are you going to tell me? That deep down, you humans are all good? Or, mayhaps, that even if you are indeed cruel, you still chose to be good, to be better?â
The man blinked. On the other side, the crew watched with horror, not being able to do anything else but pray that a miracle would happen.
He took a deep breath, then. The Ambassador always made sure to show everyone in the entire Universe of the last words her enemies would say, making sure that even the brighest cry of hope sounded more like a pathetic whimper of a fool.
âNoâ, the human whispered.
âOh?â
The Ambassador was smiling. Of course she was; she had won. No human survives the anger of the Land of Elriene.
âI was going to say that youâre a moron and that Iâm going to hunt your ass down to the ends of the Universe.
But all humans made sure to make a spetacle.
âYou⌠What?â
She was more annoyed than surprised. That whole ideal was like a vermin being annoying to the good, righteous gardener, who always worked hard to keep the place clean and beautiful.
âCanât understand something simple like being called a moron?â, he added, smiling menacingly. âDamn, your guards must pity you so much, they canât even say something as obvious as that. Sorry for themâ.
âWhat an interesting insect we have hereâŚâ.
âIâm a mammalian, actually. Werenât you a human hunter? You kind of need to know this sort of stuffâ.
âCareful, Brian!â, a second human, Dominique, rose their voice, dark eyes gleeming with delight. âI donât think she can understand that. Her planet doesnât have many mammaliansâ.
âOh, sorry for that, girlâ, Brian procceeded, apologising with a head nod. âHuman education is kinda different. I thought that, since you hated humans so much, you would know moreâ.
The Ambassador looked at the two⌠Gremlins. Yes, the precise word! Bad, nasty, pesky gremlins! She raised her head, too disgusted to look at them in the face: âI know what a âmammalianâ is. I simply did not comprehend just how stupid you could be. And here I was, actually being careful with my plans! Vermin like you-â
âMammalianâ, the third and final human, AntĂ´nia, corrected her.
âVermin like youâ, the Ambassador insisted. âShould die. Just like the way your planet diedâ.
âWe brought Earth back, though?â, Brian asked. âThatâs basic human historyâ.
âWhat if she canât read human books?â, AntĂ´nia suggested. âPoor girl! You should get yourself a translator. They are really cool. I use one!â
âENOUGH!â
The trio shut themselves, looking at the all-mighty, foolish Ambassador. With a skin glowing in pure blue, she floated to be above them all, tossing the crystal ball to one of her guards.
âOff with themâ, was her order. âGet them out of my sights. Show these foolish ones our exterminating jobâ.
âOh!â
Everyone turned to look at Dominique, who, tied up, jumped and rolled around until they could be in front of their fellow humans, pathetically trying to clap their hands.
âMe first!â, they asked.
The Ambassador rolled her eyes. âShoot her in the armsâ.
Brian could see the rest of their crew looking at them in horror. They whispered and begged for some kind of mercy, but the cruel Ambassador simply did not care. With the brevity of a blink, a shot was fired.
The aliens screamed. The humans did not.
âUhâŚâ, one of the guards whispered. âMaâam⌠Isnât human blood supposed to be a darker red?â
âOf course! WâŚâ
Dominique shrugged, looking at their (prosthetic) arm splattered in the ground, a neon shade of red coming out of it, becoming strange, unusual tones as it spread around.
âMaâam, Ambassador, girl, friendâ, the human shouted. âDidnât you know there is more than one type of human?â
âWhat?!â
âYeah!â, Brian agreed. âThereâs thirty-seven types of humans aroundâ.
âWhat?!â
âDominique here is kind of undead. They will rise from the grave and eat your flesh if you keep messing around with our crew!â, AntĂ´nia added, smiling. âApproach me, and Iâll tear your arms out with my silver teeth!â
She opened her mouth, showing shiny pieces of metal decorating her yellowed teeth, with a single string connecting them all. The Ambassador, never hearing of a basic thing such as braces, made a horrified, disgusting noise.
All the aliens from the Land of Elriene were allergic to silver.
âI-is that true, maâam?!â, one of the guards asked their leader, horrified.
âN-no!â, but that did not sound like someone was sure of herself.
âAND I TELL YOU MORE!â, Brian shouted, awkwardly getting up. âMess with me, and my ancestors are going to hunt you down even after death!â
âP-prove it, thenâ, the Ambassador said.
The man immediately made the most horrifying, awful, ear-shattering noise he possibly could, shaking his head around to immitate both an elrienean being mauled by a predator, and a person being possessed in an horror flick.
Brian jumped around, screaming and shaking himself, before throwing himself to the ground.
Like the vermin the Ambassador believed all humans to be, he crawled his way towards her, laughing.
âfooOooOoOOOLISH c RE aTUREâ, he whispered. âdARES TO HURT OUR COMPANIONS?â
Dominique and AntĂ´nia blinked at their friend when the Ambassador kicked him in the face with a scream.
âGet out of me!â, she ordered, watching as Brian fell to the ground andâŚ
Laughed.
âIF WE ARE VERMIN, WE ARE PARASITE. IF WE ARE PARASITE, YOU ARE OUR HOSTâ, he continued, ignoring Dominique awkwardly trying to hold him close. âAND WE ARE HUNGRYâ.
The Ambassador screamed with horror, along all the guards. AntĂ´nia got up, showing off her (fake) silver teeth, and they all immediately started to run.
Dominique threw their prosthetic arm to the invaderâs direction, warranting a scream. The Ambassador dropped the crystal ball, cursing as she ran away from the âpossessed, daemonic parasiteâ, completely ignoring Brian coughing as he tried to recover from his own acting.
When the invaders escaped in their ship, everyone looked at the trio.
The humans smiled, of course, and shared a high-five.
âAnd thatâs why you donât mess with actorsâ.
��
Ko-fi | Commission Info
#I AM WHEEZING#LAUGHING MY ASS OFF ON A TRAIN#humans are weird#humans are space orcs#humans are space fae#humans are space oddities#humans are deathworlders#haso tag#haso writing#garça writing#reblog
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itâs not a request
#i feel u bro#@ the gods: get your shit together#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackson fanart#pjo fanart#fanart#reblog
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feel the need to contribute this valentineâs day: fellow aro/ace frens u got this and ur awesome
#valentine#aromantic#asexual#lgbtq community#pride#ace#ace pride#aroace#aro#aro pride#letâs get this bread
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Dick Grayson would be so proud introducing this brothers to people. He would always talk about his little brothers in a.. certain light, so intros can be a bit confusing...
Dick: Remember when I told you about my sweet little brother? He is so kind, and he gives the best hugs! Be nice :)
*out walks a 6" behemoth man built like a tank with a resting bitch face*
Dick: Oh! And my other younger brother! You remember me telling you about him right? The smart one? The one that all the socialites love at galas. I don't know how he does it.
*in comes a sickly Victorian child muttering incoherent nonsense to himself, a death grip on his nth cup of coffee*
Dick: and the youngest. My little baby bro. Remember how I said he has a bit of a rough exterior? But he is so caring, in his own special way.
*A kid runs in foaming at the mouth screaming a string of curses before pulling out a sword and running after Tim*
Dick: aren't they the sweetest?
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been learning a fun lil trick to help me not get too dysphoric while taking breaks from binding:
watch anime and â¨dissociateđŤ˘fromđmyđ
đźbodyđ
#itâs a joke i swear pls donât just ignore ur feelings#ok itâs kinda not a joke tho cuz over binding is a problem#trans#ftm#ftm binding#trans jokes#đ
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In the woods, somewhere
#the vibes#â¨immaculateâ¨#sir pls give me ur gender#sir just a drop sir pls#ranboo#ranboo fanart#osmp ranboo#origins smp ranboo#osmp fanart#origins smp fanart#osmp#origins smp#reblog
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just thinking abt osmp!beeduo sitting cuddled up at the fireplace together on rainy days all bundled in blankets with hot cocoa
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in light of recent events look at this sick gif i made
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i need the world to see my most favoritest radio duo clip ever right now
#sorry just love them#vod: 10/6/2021 osmp sleepiest ghost builds library with chat#wilbur soot#ranboo#joytag#reblog
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a beeeeg friend
#ok this is so fire#ranboo#ranboo art#ranboo fanart#art#snake#thatâs a very friendly guy right there#met again with his long lost friend#a little guy!#fanart#reblog
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just put a shortcut on my keyboard for endermanâŚâŚ. ââ
â â
ââ
â â ââŹâżâââââââââ
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proud of and happy for him!!! :D
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so proud of him also fire art bro

im so proud of him.............
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Krill plushie, hat item, eye on the plushie probably turns red when near skids
#i want this#so that i can avoid people#i just think itâs b neat đ#sky cotl#skyblr#sky children of the light#skykid#fanart#reblog
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