#LEARNING HOW TO DRAW DRAGONS... PLEASE BE KIND TO ME...
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trying to doodle but i have a cold right now and iwnt to rip my nose off my face
#ninjago#llotion#parcaeive#:3#jusr... a doodle.. but trust im cooking up a human motion design and drawing them tgt again soon TRUST#LEARNING HOW TO DRAW DRAGONS... PLEASE BE KIND TO ME...
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𝓞𝐅 𝓢𝐍𝓞𝐖 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓢𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝓔𝐑𝓔𝐃 𝓦𝓘𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝
𝓹airing dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings descriptions of injuries/blood, supernatural au, kissing, character death (not main), shitty and poor writing, lowkey rushed toward the end, kills myself.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 14.1k ་༘࿐
#serene adds ✎.. my contribution to The Veils Of Aethera which is kind of very shit and probably the worst piece I have ever written (I'm exaggerating, maybe..) no but theres a lot of plot holes, which I did not have time to fill out but could definitely explain if someone wants me to, because in my head I have all the answers and um yes. I haven't proofread this once and I'm not going to because im nic sick off my ass and also on the verge of just falling asleep hm, anyway I love u guys heh please don't be mad at me for posting something so below my usual level >-<
ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was…
FIRE, burning hotter than the sun. Orange and yellow flames dancing before your very eyes, their warmth caressing your face, shunning the cold around and embracing you. Fire warm enough to kill, if they wanted to. — Turning forests into ash, melting even the firmest of steel armor, incinerating entire kingdoms with one mere breath.
The dragon’s powerful roar echoes over the mountain tops, loud enough for trees to shake. Even the wind gave way as they soared through the sky. Large wings slapping against the cool air as they danced through the clouds. Untamed beasts, that’s how most described them. Wild and fueled only by their desire and rage to destroy everything around them.
Few humans were fortunate enough to face one of these creatures and live to tell the tale. But the ones that did were graced with luck for many generations to come. These humans, those who sought not to fight but to learn about these beasts, were a different kind of people. Reckless in the eyes of other humans but courageous in the eyes of the dragon.
Together they conquered the skies, not as two but as one. Their souls connected with one another as they played a game of perfect synchronization. Moving swiftly in the dark, silently communicating with nothing but the twitch of a muscle. It was a different kind of understanding, a mutual one, a bond that ran far deeper than any other.
A raspy cough slices through the image of the dark fiery dragon gliding through the sky and your attention immediately shifts to the old man in front of you. — “Grandpa! Are you alright?” Quickly rising to your feet, you scurry toward the old man as you kneel before him. He gives a weak nod, dismissing you with the wave of his wrinkly hand.
“I’m fine, dearest..” He mutters, though the strain of his voice betrays his words. Still, you nod as your thumbs caress the back of his hand. “Now, where was I? — Ah yes, the dragons..” He shifts in his chair, the blanket slipping from his legs, and you rush to shove it back in place. Your old grandpa clears his throat as he prepares to continue.
“You see there were these formations they would do in the air and–” — “Alfred, that’s quite enough.” The brisk voice of your aunt, Fiona, pierces through the air. She sways by the doorway, her arms folded neatly across her chest as her dark gaze narrowed on your grandpa. With a small grumble he adjusts himself in his seat, muttering something about Fiona being “a persistent know-it-all.”
Your aunt doesn’t seem to care for his bitterness, for she did not enjoy hearing him talk about those “creatures” as she referred to them as. Instead she brushes past you, her arms wrapping around the old man as she helps him to his feet. “Enough about those lizards, come to bed.” — With a small glance over her shoulder, she addresses you in a most derogatory tone. “Make use of yourself out in the garden will you? Your grandpa needs to rest.”
The sun is warm against your face as you squint toward it. Your aunt had a lovely garden, situated just on the edge of the forest, by the very far end of the kingdom. Humming along to the soft tune of a slow melody, your hands busy themselves with hanging the damp garments on the clothesline that was tied between two posts.
A gentle breeze makes the wet fabric sway in the wind and you skip out of its way as you reach for one of the dresses. — “Thought I told you to let those things go.” The voice of your aunt slices through the relaxing atmosphere. She bends down to pick a pair of smaller pants from the basket, belonging to your younger cousin.
Even if her words remained vague and dismissing, there was no doubt that she was referring to the stories she’d walked in on your grandpa sharing, yet again. When your silence has gone on for a good minute she continues, “You know how he gets, going on and on about that nonsense..” Fiona huffs as she gives the pants a harsh shake before folding them across the string.
“But I should like to hear him out- His stories are beyond interesting, and he’s delighted to share them!” You chime in, a small, hopeful smile stretching across your lips. It was true, to reminisce about the tales of his youth seemed to be the only thing that brought your grandfather any sort of joy these days. It made the wrinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiled, a low breathy laugh rumbling within his chest.
Your aunt Fiona shoots you a pointed look, her attention then drifting back to the damp clothes. “That is all that they are, stories. But your old grandpa does not seem to know the difference between tales and truth anymore.” She heaves a sigh as she turns to you, “Lest us not make matters worse by encouraging these…fantasies.” Her tone was final, like a large wooden door being slammed shut in your face. You held your tongue, returning to your chores as the day continued on.
Dinner was chaotic, as it always was. With plates clattering against the small wooden table and glasses being tipped over. Your younger cousins bickered, their loud and whiny voices filling the cramped room. “Boys! Enough.” Fiona looks tired when placing the large pot of soup on the middle of the table, in the center of the whirlwind. The twins however, immediately quiet down though they continue to glower at one another.
“He started it!” William shouts as he points to his brother, Theodore, who merely shakes his head. “Did not!” — “Did too!” For each time their whining voices grew all the louder, soon overpowering any coherent thought you might have. A small tap to your side diverts your attention from the arguing taking place. Mira, your youngest cousin, points to the jug of water, silently requesting you give her some.
She was quiet, awfully so, in fact you don’t think you’d heard hear utter more than three words during meal time. You oblige by pouring her a glass, setting the jug back just in time for your aunt to give the twins a harsh tug to their ears, making them protest loudly. — “Give your mother a break will ya?” Her voice is harsh, leaving a thick silence behind as she lets go of her sons and takes a seat by the high end of the table.
Opposite your aunt Fiona, sits your grandfather. He seems lost in thought as his wrinkly fingers play with the spoon on his hand. Everyone is now turning his way, waiting patiently for him to begin eating. It was customary to let the oldest man of the house eat before anyone else, and usually your grandpa was not late to indulge… Today, he seems distracted.
“Father, are you not hungry?” Your aunt tries as she leans forward, gripping her own spoon tightly. You watch as his brows raise on his aged forehead, and your grandfather hums as his gaze drops to the bowl before him, as if he’d just realized its presence. — “Huh..” He huffs, readjusting his grip on the silverware as he stirs the warm soup. “Oh yes..” He murmurs, bringing a spoonful to his lips as he begins to eat.
Everyone sighs in relief, all following as they, too, begin to feast. For some reason you find yourself unable to. Your gaze lingers by your old grandpa, noting the slight tremble to his hand and the effort it took for him to swallow. Often did you worry for his health, for how long you had left with him. Regardless of his condition, there was little you could do for him. It pained you greatly.
Just like everynight, you tucked your grandpa in before bed. He’d gotten quite disoriented during later months and needed help getting from one place to another. With your arm around his weak frame, another one waiting to assist, you move him from his rocking chair and over to the soft mattress. — “There you go, pops. — Careful with your knees.”
Your grandfather scoffs as he waves a dismissing hand your way. “Enough dear, these legs used to conquer battlefields, they shan’t submit to a short walk..” Still, there was an undeniable tremble to him as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed. — Only once you’d drawn the thick blanket over him, did he finally seem at ease once more.
He hums to a foreign melody as you fiddle with the oil lamp on his bedside table. — “Ah, did I tell you about that one time… The one where I met a sundragon head on?” Your grandpa stifles a cough against his palm before shaking his head lightly. Though his train of thought was cut short when you place a gentle hand on his chest.
“It’s getting late pops, you need to rest.” The smile you send him is far from convincing and you quickly avoid his piercing gaze as you adjust the lamp one final time. You never turned down one of his stories, even if you’d heard it a hundred times before. He was bound to catch onto it, and he did. The sounds of sheets rustling rings in your ears as he props himself up on a weak elbow.
“Did my daughter tell you to stop encouraging me?”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. Despite your reluctance, you slowly admit to it as you give a meek nod. Your gaze trains to your hands as they rest in your lap, seated on the edge of his bed. Your grandpa makes a small noise of disbelief as he thumps back against the mattress. “Just as stubborn as her mother..” He mutters as he gazes up at the ceiling.
For a moment, a still silence fills the small bedroom, nothing but the wind tearing through the trees outside to be heard. Then your old grandfather suddenly speaks again. “Your aunt has every reason to resent those creatures, given what happened to my father..” — Your ears perk up at the mention of your great grandfather. He was, according to your grandpa, a man like no else. One who not only faced the dragons but even soared through the sky alongside them.
Well, at least until… Your grandpa’s hoarse voice interrupts your scattered thoughts. “I do not blame her”, he murmurs, sounding almost melancholic. Yet you’re able to catch the undeniable glint in his eyes, the one that would shine whenever he spoke of his past. “Still…”, he coughs, a low and weasel sound, “I would like to see them one last time.”
“To see the dragons once more, that is my final wish.”
𓍼ོ
The very next morning is cold, a lot colder than a typical summer one in Aethera. You tug your coat tighter around yourself, even your gloved hands slowly succumbing to the biting frost. It’s early, much so that the sun itself has yet to rise over the horizon. — Quietly, you slip out of your aunt's small cottage, sealing the door shut behind you as you give a final glance over your shoulder.
Your footsteps crunch against the leaves and twigs as you make your way through the thick and dense forest. Nature around you was still asleep, at least, most of it. You did not dare stop to think about what kind of creatures roamed these woods, what kind of entities lingered in its shadows.. A shiver runs down your spine and you shudder before pushing those thoughts aside, marching forward with hasty steps.
And soon enough, the trees part, making way for the large mountains ahead. With newfound eagerness, you rush forward, more than ready to leave the dark forest behind as you emerge from the treeline. — You pause, finding yourself in complete awe as you stare up at large stones, crafted by nature itself, their tops covered in a bright blanket of white snow.
Here you were bound to find what you were looking for. Dragons. Determined to fulfill your grandfather’s dying wish, the least you could do was set out to bring back the one thing he sought to see the most. You knew a lot about dragons, well, as much as he’d let on to in his stories. Still, the thought of seeing one up close.. It made your stomach tingle.
But the mountain is a lot crueler than you’d anticipated. The hike to the top is unforgiving, tearing your limbs apart as your body aches. You’re panting, knee deep in thick snow as you battle against the harsh winds. In spite of it being late July, the harsh conditions of the Frosty Peaks seemed to know no bounds as it served you whiplash after whiplash.
Frantically your gaze searches for an entrance, for any way to access the mountain. Your grandpa had long ago told you about the dark caves dragons resided in. “They’re quite tricky to find, not something you would just stumble upon. — A dragon’s nest is its most treasured place.” That’s what he’d said.
You knew to look for small, almost unnoticeable anomalies. Something that any other bypasser would mistake for nature's misfortune. A twisted branch, a cracked stone.. The cold wind hurls against you, making an almost ear piercing screeching noise. You can no longer feel your face as you keep your gaze trained to the ground, intently looking for something, anything that would give way to an opening.
But you come up short. There was nothing here. It felt like you’d been climbing this mountain for forever. It was never ending, everywhere you turned there was just snow upon snow upon snow. Every rock and every tree looked the same, perhaps you’d been walking in circles. What if you couldn’t find your way home, what if you were to freeze to death upon this quiet mountain, all alone and shivering as you take your last breaths.
The lantern you had brought along had burned out, yet you clutched it tightly as you stumbled forward. With your head bowed and your desperate eyes seeking what you thought to be the impossible, you’re unable to foresee the snare that protrudes through the white snow, not until it’s too late. It catches around your wrist, causing you to yelp as you fall forward.
It’s cold, it’s so cold that it burns. The hard ground caresses your tired body, the soil beneath welcoming you. With shaky hands you brace yourself against the mountain, daring to lift your head only an inch, wincing at the pain that throbbed within. “Ow..” You whine, clutching your temple as you screw your eyes shut.
When you open them again is when you see it. At first you didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. In disbelief your gaze flickers between the lily that was currently in full bloom, thriving in deep snow, and over to the opening presented before you. — Unbelievable.
Excitement coursed through your veins as you scramble to your feet, eager to escape the menacing wind. It’s without thinking twice that you dart for the cave’s opening, throwing yourself inside with a relieved sigh. Your soft pants leave small clouds of cold in their wake, and you lean against the wet stone walls as you catch your breath.
With wary eyes you survey your surroundings, taking in the endless pit of darkness that awaits you. The cave curved in a C-like shape, and the sounds of water quietly dropping from its ceiling fills the otherwise eerie silence. — It takes you a moment to re-light your lantern, but once you have, its warm glow manages to bring you at least some sense of comfort.
Your hesitant footsteps bounce off the wet cavern walls as you delve deeper into the mountain. With your lantern held high, it guides you through the passages, an unexplainable tug at your chest urging you forward. Perhaps you should turn back, perhaps this had been a bad idea. After all, you did not know anything about dragons apart from what your grandfather had told you.— Was this really such a good idea?
A turn to your left leads you onto an even darker path, and you feel a shiver crawl down your spine, sending a shockwave of nervosity through you. With a small gulp, you readjust your grip on the lantern, its light casting your face in yellow-ish hues. — So far there was not a single sign of any other living being, and you had been listening to nothing but your own shaky exhales for the past twenty minutes.
Just when you had begun to consider retreat, did the tip of your shoe crash against something hard. Not being able to catch yourself in time, you stumble forward a second time that day. But this time, there’s no snow to catch you, and you hit the hard and cold cave floor with a loud crash.
“Ow..” Your groan pierces the thick silence, and you wince as you grab ahold of your already pounding head. Not again you sigh. Everything hurt, your body felt sore and bruised, you could only imagine how you looked beneath all your layered clothes.
Upon turning around, you find that what you had tripped over had been not a stone, not an overly large branch or any other of nature’s call. No, this was something entirely different… With squinting eyes you peer down at what appeared to be scales covering something the size of a smaller tree trunk. Confused you glance around in search of your lantern, it had slipped from your grasp during your fall.
You find it a few feet away, gingerly shuffling over as you retrieve it. Thankfully the flames within were still alive and you cradled it close as you turned back to the strange scaled thing you had tripped over, only to find it gone. — Your heart catches in your throat, making your eyes widen and the lantern threatening to crash against the ground once more.
A cold and harsh puff of air hits your back, hard. You gulp, slowly and carefully turning around as you clutch the lamp in trembling hands. Immediately your gaze falls on the exact same scales you’d seen just moments prior. White and smooth, perfectly covering four large legs, your attention fixates on the long and sharp claws on its feet. Then over to the almost translucent and magnificent looking wings, neatly tucked against its sides.
Dread fills you when you realize that what you had tripped over had been its at least 10 ft long tail. With a gawking expression you watch as said tail curls around its body. In almost cinematic slow motion does your gaze shift toward its head, where sharp canines rested in its mouth. There was no doubt that this was exactly what you had come here looking for.
“A dragon..”
The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Your soft whisper of disbelief carrying out into the cold air. It looked stoic, yet far from the dragon's your grandfather had described. This was not the dark and fire-spitting beasts he’d told you about, this was… A wet droplet splashes against your cheek and you glance up to find icicles peering down at you from the ceiling, their pointy ends looking ready to pounce.
A low huff brings your attention back to the creature before you, just in time to watch as it cracks an eye open. Its ice blue irises a stark contrast to the narrow slits of its pupils. This dragon did not hold the gaze of warmth and fire. — It held one of ice cold death.
You stumble backward on trembling legs. The wet and hard cave wall feels like daggers against your back when you crash against it. Your breath comes out in jagged pants, your heart beating through your chest as you realize the dangers of your situation. The plan had been to watch them from afar, to silently slip away as if nothing had happened when you had gotten what you’d come here for. The plan did however, not include coming face to face with one of them. To become trapped within the cold and eerie darkness of these caves with the very beings that ruled them.
With fear in your eyes, you watch as the dragon rises to its feet. Cold blue eyes locked on your small figure as you stay pressed against the wall, cowering before it. The sounds of its heavy steps echo between the icicles hanging from the ceiling, it makes the floor shake and rocks move as it slowly makes its way closer.
You can feel its chilly breath all over you, freezing your already damp and shivering body tenfold. You screw your eyes shut as you turn your head away, preparing yourself for the fate inevitably to come. — Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should’ve listened to your aunt. You had been a fool to believe your old grandpa. You should have never come here and you should have never woken this beast.
But the sharp and soaring pain of its large canines never came. And when what feels like an eternity has passed, you finally dare crack an eye open. Your vision is clouded by blues and whites, its nose hovering inches from your face. You couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made another move to attack you, to snap your frail body in half and rid itself of your invading presence.
The dragon only watches you, the slow waves of cold air washing over you when it exhales. You swallow, gaze drifting down its long and majestic body as you wait for death to come. It is then you realize that something was wrong. There, tarnishing the translucent hue of its large wing is a large and ugly crack. Dark crimson spills from it in dramatic fashion as it taints the dragon’s shattered wing.
It was hurt.
A pang of sympathy washes over you at the sight. The frantic beating of your heart faltering for a short moment as you exhale the sigh you’d been holding in. The dragon seems to notice where your attention lays and immediately covers itself up by tucking its wing to its side. — A low, predatory sound builds in its chest, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise as you will down a gulp.
It pulls back, and for a second you think it might retreat. But instead it opens its terrifyingly large jaw, presenting you with rows upon rows of teeth sharp as swords. You want to scream, but the dragon beats you to it as it lets out an ear piercing roar. — It makes the icicles above you shatter, their splinters flying everywhere. Even the walls tremble under the powerful sound and you find yourself darting for the exit without a second thought.
The sound continues to plague you as you run through the murky and long cavern walls, fighting your way through the maze you had once entered with curiosity and hope. Now you claw onto the desperate feeling of life, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart in your throat.
It’s not until light presents itself and you catch the sun on your face that you breathe out. Your lungs burn, your legs ache and your head pounds. The snow feels warm and inviting, and your knees sink to the ground as you plummet toward it. — One glance behind your shoulder shows the entrance gone once more, and you sigh, whether it was in relief or not, you can’t tell.
But as you make your way home that day, you can’t help but think of the dragon up in the mountain, and the large wound on its side.
𓍼ོ
Your grandpa accompanies you as you prepare dinner that night. Your aunt Fiona was out gathering wild berries and fruits along with your younger cousins, and so the kitchen had become a peacefully quiet and inviting space. The air is warm, the steam coming from the hot stew cooking over the small fire, caressing your face.
Perched on his stool by the high end of the table, your grandfather watches as you prepare plates and spoons for the family. His expression is calm, serene even. He doesn’t look as exhausted today, and you’re glad. These quiet and tender moments with him were ones that you cherished, for you didn’t know how many you had left.
Yet you can’t help your mind from wandering toward the mountain on the other side of the forest. Your thoughts are plagued by the lonesome creature hidden within the stone. “Grandpa…” Your fingers drum against the rim of the glass you were wiping down, a small frown tugging across your brows.
The old man hums as he shifts his gaze over to where you’re standing, obviously waiting for you to continue. It’s just… You don’t know how to. With a small, almost inaudible sigh you set the glass down. “Did you ever.. I mean was there ever such a thing as… ice dragons?” — The question catches him off guard, sure your old man was used to your inquiries about both the dragons and his past life. But something like this had never been brought up.
“Ice dragons?” He echoes, and you think you catch a flicker of intrigue behind his otherwise pale eyes. “Where have you heard about those?” He then murmurs as he attempts to sit a little straighter. You immediately rush to his side as you place an arm around him, “Careful.” But your grandfather only swats your helping hands away as he stifles a cough.
You purse your lips, but keep a steady grip on his shoulder as you hand him a glass of water. “I’ve just… Been doing a bit of research, and I stumbled across the topic.” You bite the inside of your cheek before adding, “There was hardly anything documented, so I was hoping you knew more..”
Your grandpa hums, the sound long and drawn out as he takes a sip of his water. “Well of course there’s nothing documented, ice dragons have been extinct for centuries.” He says it so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. But it wasn’t. You had just seen one, you were sure you had seen one.
Images of the dragon up in the mountains flash before you. The blue and white scales, its frosty breath, its icy and penetrating gaze. But that would be impossible then.. It shouldn’t exist if they were extinct. — “Are you sure?”
With a small scoff, your grandfather sets his glass down. “What kind of question is that?” He quirks a bushy brow, his expression gauging as he studies you closely. “If there was as much as a single ice dragon left, I would be sure to know of it”, he states with a huff. You did not want to argue over the matter any further, and thus kept your silence as you continued setting the table.
Perhaps it had been a flicker of your imagination. The cave had, after all, been dark. It was possible that what you thought was real could have been all but an illusion. — But the ice cold shiver that ran down your spine as you recall its cold breath on your skin was most real. You think of the blood, of the large wound slashed across its side. How defensive it had gotten when it caught your gaze lingering.
You pitied the being. What awful it must be to feel pain like that.
“Why do you want to know about ice dragons?” The hoarse voice of your grandfather pierces the warm air and you turn to him with a small almost helpless smile. “I don’t know… Curiosity I suppose. ” You mumble, choosing to not bring up the day’s events in front of your old man. Your grandpa nods, his face looks sunken as his eyes drop to his empty plate.
Outside, you can hear the faint noise of your aunt and younger cousins as they approach the small cottage. “Curiosity will get you far”, your grandpa agrees, though his voice sounds almost solemn now. — “But we should not let our thoughts linger in the past.”
𓍼ོ
You find yourself setting out early in the morning that follows as well. But this time, you’ve brought more than a small lantern. The bag you carry is heavy on your back, making each step up the steep and snowy mountain twice the labour. Yet you persist, stubbornly trudging through the thick snow that reaches all the way to your knees.
The cold and harsh winds make for a narrow view as you squint against them. Your nose has lost all its feeling, and you’re certain that you’re developing frostbite on parts of your body. Frantically you search for the tiny lily. You had tried your best to retrace yesterday’s steps, wantonly stumbling back and forth as you scour the ocean of bright white.
“Where is it… Where is it..” Your lips are numb, your tongue feels way too big for your mouth and your words come out slurred. Never in your life had you been this cold before, and only God knows how much longer you’ll be able to carry on forward.
But then you see it, its bright pink hues lighting up your world like fireworks in the night sky. And just a few feet away, the familiar entrance presents itself. — Despite your better judgement you had returned. Pity, that’s what you told yourself. Pity and empathy, that’s what you felt for the lonely dragon. It was why you had come here, with the intention of helping, as best as you could. It would’ve been what your grandfather would have wanted.
Guilt weighs you down. It weighs heavier than the large bag on your shoulders. This secret you kept, it was bound to kill you. But such a thought seems small in comparison to the large cave that awaits you. — One final harsh thrust of the wind wins you over as you hurry inside, desperate to get out of its claws, even if it means finding yourself in the grasp of another.
The maze-like system that was the dark and wet cave is strangely familiar, even though it shouldn’t be. Your feet move on their own, carrying you through the long and narrow labyrinth. For each step you take, your heart beats a little faster. Fear and anticipation courses through you. — Scared as you may be, but this time you had come prepared. This time you knew what waited around the corner, and as you made a final turn to the left, you exhaled.
It’s dark, but now you know to watch where you place your feet. You’re silent, moving carefully through the cold air. Your lantern casts the cave in a warm and yellow glow, a stark contrast to the murky greys surrounding you. The icicles are sending gentle droplets of water down your way, one by one they splash against your cheek, the soft noise filling the open space.
You had expected it to be there, you had tried to imagine it over and over for the past day. But the large dragon still catches you by surprise when your gaze falls upon it. Hurled up by one of the rocky and uneven walls, its large wings folded over what you presumed to be its wounded side. Its chest rises and falls with each slow breath it takes, the dragon appears to be in a calm slumber. Cold puffs of air shoots through its flared nostrils, the condensation vanishing in the darkness.
It takes but one misstep on your part, the sound of rocks being crushed beneath the sole of your shoe echoing out into the silence. The disturbance wakes the sleeping dragon, and you find your gaze glued to its icy eyes as they snap open. Naturally, you expect for it to come lunging at you, just like it had the day before.
But the dragon remains oddly still, slowly exhaling yet another wind off freezing air as it watches you with an almost expectant glint. It was impossible to read the creature, no matter how hard you tried. Your grandfather’s stories only did so much, and it was admittedly far different to come face to face with one on your own.
“Hi.”
The greeting comes without you even thinking twice, it’s quiet, soft and timid. You’re surprised by your own rush of calmness at its semblance of indifference. For some reason, you did not feel threatened by the dragon today.
With slow and gentle movements, you let the bag slip from your shoulders, placing it down on the hard stone surface beneath you as you begin rummaging through it. You had not known what to bring along, for anything involving medicine was far from your expertise. The moss you’d brought from just within the forest line was thick and wet, but you vividly remember your aunt dressing your scraped knees in such.
Gauze was sacred, you had to venture all the way to the kingdom in order to acquire some. It was why you had taken as little as you could from your aunt’s medicine cabinet, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be able to tell. — It wasn’t much, but it was something.
You feel the dragon's intense gaze on you as your trembling hands undo the roll of gauze, you wondered if it’d be enough to even go around its large body once. It was worth the shot. — You stand up straight, clearing your throat as you draw in a short breath. “I uh, I’m here to help you..” You give the dragon an awkward smile. It was impossible to know if it could understand you or not, but judging by the way its gaze narrowed at your words, you would guess it did.
It’s okay, you tell yourself, gripping the supplies in your hands tighter. You take a hesitant step forward, gauging its reaction as you keep your eyes on its head. But the dragon remains unmoving. Alright. Three more steps. Still good. — It’s not until you reach its side, your outstretched fingers reaching for the shattered wing, that the dragon flinches.
A low, menacing growl builds in its chest. The sound makes you falter, your eyes widening as you swallow the shriek about to escape your lips. “I…” Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your heart hammers in your chest. Had you taken it too far? Your intentions were pure, sure, but could this beast see that?
“I mean no harm…” You say as you let the moss and gauze drop to the ground, presenting your now empty hands before the dragon. The creature watches you with pupils that are narrowed into slits, clearly untrusting of your ways, but makes no move to snap you in half. — It meant something, at least so you thought.
Your attention slowly returns to the pale wing pressing against its side. If only you could get a closer look. Your palm graces the smooth and cold scales, fascinated by the foreign texture. But the action is almost immediately met by a harsh snarl from the dragon as its large head jerks your way.
Its breath is just as freezing as you’d remembered it, coming out in harsh puffs against your already shivering body. You’re so close that if you leaned forward as much as an inch, your foreheads would meet. — Your gulp is painfully audible inside the dark gave and you fumble for words.
“Y-You’re hurt…” Your shaky finger points in the direction of its wing and the dragon follows your direction. You watch in slight bewilderment as it flexes the broken wing. The wound looked harsh and deep, you were sure it restricted most of its movements, not to mention causing it great pain.
The dragon makes a small noise that sounds almost like a human grunt. The sound catches you off guard and you turn back just in time to catch its head shifting forward again, its attention seemingly fixed on something far away. It looked almost… defeated. You wondered for how long it’d been isolated up here, how many sleepless and painful nights it would’ve had to endure.
When it doesn’t make a second attempt to snap you in half, you take it as your sign to move forward. A brief inspection of the long cut helps you determine that it would probably not need any stitches. Said discovery relieved you as you had little clue of how to work both needle and thread, especially on dragon scales.
You pick at the moss you’d previously discarded, bunching the wet plant up in your hands as you sought a suitable approach. It would’ve been easier had this dragon been slightly smaller, or you slightly bigger. — Nonetheless you give it your best shot. The dragon hisses when you press the cold moss against the crimson cut, but you try your hardest to ignore the way it tenses beneath your touch, praying and hoping that it would remain as still as it had up until now.
Once the thick layer of moss is in place, your foot blindly reaches for the gauze as you roll it over. With the help of your teeth, and a lot of effort as your arms fought to keep the earthy moss in place, you managed to throw the small roll over its wing, only to catch it as it came down on the other side.
The process was tedious, and due to the size of the wound, it required you to repeat your original move a multitude of times. You work quietly, biting your lip in concentration as sweat pooled on your forehead. To try and get your mind off of the situation and task at hand, you try to figure out just what could’ve caused an injury like this.
Had the dragon taken a fall? Gotten in a fight with another of its species, or even worse, a completely different creature? You were no fool, and you knew that dragons were far from the only spirits that roamed this forsaken island. There were beings far more dangerous than a pair of claws and a large jaw. The thought alone made you shiver.
A loud thud snaps your attention to your left, your heart leaping out of your chest. But the terror subsided just as it had surfaced when your gaze fell on the dragon's head, resting atop the cold and hard cave floor in an exhausted manner. It exhales, the condensated cold air blowing from its nostrils like smoke out of a chimney.
It was impossible not to pity the lonely creature, and you feel your stomach twisting as you watch its defeated expression. There was much you wanted to ask, things you longed to know. For now, you were content with not getting torn in half as you tended to the crack on its wing. It was enough, you tell yourself.
Once you're done, you take a step back to inspect your work. It looked… messy. The gauze was wrapped in uneven layers, with moss peeking through here and there. An amateur's job, that much was evident. But the dragon doesn’t seem to mind, for it spares no more than a quick glance toward the now dressed wound. Instead, its cold and harsh gaze lingers on your fidgety frame as you debate your next move.
Your eyes dart around the dark cave, lingering on its sharp and rough edges. You wondered how uncomfortable it must be to live like that. The lack of sunlight, the lack of warmth.. Not that this dragon seemed to need it. — But there was really nothing here. And as you fetch your lantern once more, throwing the now empty bag over your shoulder, you turn to meet the dragon’s icy gaze.
“I’ll be back”, you say, and though it did not reply, you caught the faint shimmer of its once tired eyes.
𓍼ོ
You return to that same dark and cold cave for many days to come. As time passed, you found yourself growing all the more comfortable in the dragon’s ever looming presence. You would bring fresh moss, making sure to check on the wound as best as you could. — And though your bag weighs half a ton, you still managed to bring some nutrients all the way up the mountain.
“Here”, you had said as you threw the bag on the stone floor. The dragon had given you a small glance, its expression appearing almost judgemental before its gaze had flickered to the fish you’d brought along. — “Why come on, you must be hungry.” You motioned toward the fresh meat, feeling rather proud of the accomplishment. The dragon had let out a huff, blowing a cold puff of air your way before begrudgingly indulging in the food.
Conversation was difficult to make. You often talked to yourself, thinking out loud as you rambled on about whatever topic came to mind. Sometimes you didn’t speak at all, instead choosing to let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. You did not know if the dragon enjoyed your company, perhaps it only put up with you because it had too little strength to snap you in half.
Yet the creature continued to occupy your thoughts. Its almost translucent wings, the pale scales covering its body, the sharp pair of icy eyes. One day you’d brought a small notebook along. Using a piece of charcoal, you sat perched against the opposite wall as you drew the dragon to the best of your abilities. You found it to be a great excuse to watch it for long periods of time rather than stealing subtle glances.
Truth was that no matter how many times your eyes fell on the dragon, you still found it hard to believe just what you were seeing. Suddenly your grandfather’s stories all made sense. The suspense and thrill of the dragons. The dangers and the courage it took. You understood why he enjoyed talking about them so much, you could feel his passion as you sat in silence with something so sacred.
But for each day that passed, the large gash on its side lessened in both size and severity. You wondered how much time you had left before it eventually spread its wings and took off. The thought plagued you more than you’d like to admit…
The morning is crisp, the moist and warm summer air had yet to fall over the small cottage you resided in. Just like any other morning you’re up and about, quietly shuffling throughout the tiny space as you pack today’s essentials. You were thinking of bringing along a book, perhaps you would read out loud to the dragon, any form of entertainment would surely brighten its mood.
Your eyes roam the crowded bookshelves, stuffed with literature of all kinds. From herbal tea recipes to novels and history books. The pad of your finger stops atop one of the shorter pieces, something you’d easily be able to finish within the day or the next. But before you can as much as pull it from its spot, squeezed between two thick history books, the sound of a floorboard creaking startles you.
“It’s a little early to be up reading.” Your aunt Fiona sounds like she’s just caught a thief in the midst of its burglary. And when you turn to face her, you find a satisfied smirk stretched across her thin lips. — “I…” Your words fall short, your throat suddenly thick with a fear you couldn’t quite place. “Well I was just-”
“You know I’ve noticed you sneaking around lately.” Fiona takes a step forward, and you start to wonder if she’d perhaps gotten up early solely with the intention of catching you. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction when they land on the book you had been reaching for just moments ago. — “Gone all day without as much as a word, you worry you old grandpa.”
Your aunt would often use your grandfather as a pressure point, knowing that the mention of him would get you to crack. She takes another two steps forward, stopping a mere feet away. “Perhaps you’re trying to get out of your chores”, she nods toward the garden outside, even though it had been left unattended for a mere week.
You shake your head, immediately trying to deny the accusations she was pinning on you. “It’s not-” — “Then what?” Fiona cuts you short, her voice snappy as her face twists into a small grimace. “What could be keeping you from your frail and old grandpa?” She had a point, and the fact that she did was a bitter thought indeed. You should be spending more time with your grandfather, you should be helping your aunt around the house, there are a lot of things you should be doing.
The sound of your swallow is painstakingly loud, shattering through the brief silence. “I know…” You bow your head, shame trapping your will to go see the dragon up in the mountain. “I’m sorry.”
Fiona seems satisfied with your answer. She purses her lips, humming to herself as she eyes the bag flung over your shoulder. “Leave it here”, she points to the sofa on your right, “You won’t be needing it for now.” — Reluctantly you do as she says, letting it drop to the soft cushion before turning to your aunt with disappointment surely written across your face. If she catches it, she doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Part of you is relieved that she seems to have little interest in prying further.
“The garden needs tending to”, she states before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs, likely with the intention of waking your cousins. But as she reaches the first step, she throws a glance over her shoulder, her sharp gaze landing on your still unmoving frame. Her eyes narrow, “And don’t even think about leaving the house until you’re finished.”
You could understand your aunt’s reasoning. Raising three children and taking care of her sick dad would surely take its toll on anyone. Fiona was strong, a lot stronger than most people seemed to think. Usually you did not mind helping her, for it made you feel useful. — But today your heart yearns to be elsewhere. You find yourself glancing toward the mountain, your thoughts occupied by the pale dragon, the image of its icy gaze burned into your mind.
Because of that you find yourself hurrying through your tasks. Your fingers pull carrots from the moist soil, they pick basil from the fresh plants and pluck ripe apples from the old apple tree that leans to the right. Sweat dribbles down your forehead, and you mindlessly wipe it with the back of your hand as you carry on forward.
The work felt tedious today, and you stole peeks at the kitchen window, trying to catch a glimpse of your aunt as she moved about the house. When finally, after what felt like decades, your basket is filled to the brim with fresh nutrients, and the plants had all been watered and tended to, you return inside.
Setting the heavy bag down on the kitchen table, you look for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be found. Your eyes drift toward the living room, lingering on the book you’d reached for that morning. You had done your chores for the day, so there was technically no harm in sneaking away, if only for a few hours.
𓍼ོ
Your way up the steep mountain feels lighter that afternoon. Your steps have a slight skip to them as you bounce forward. Nothing seemed to weigh you down, not even the full on scolding that you might receive from your aunt upon your arrival back home.
By now you find the lily with ease, its familiar and bright pink hue standing out perfectly among the clear and white snow. You’re excited, giddy even. The thought of spending time with the grumpy dragon brought you a kind of joy that should definitely concern you, and had you been any wiser, you probably wouldn’t have entered the cave that afternoon.
It was even colder than last time, yet the air was still, not a single gush of air hurling your way. You creep forward, without getting lost, because you’d acquainted yourself with the layout of the maze-like mountain. Now every twist and turn felt like a familiar face, one you’d seen so many times before and would always remember with a nostalgic smile.
You enter the opening that leads into what you had begun to call ‘the dragon’s nest’. The name was quite silly, but you didn’t mind since you were the only one to use it. But a frown quickly finds its way to your face as you regard the empty space. — The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you take another couple of steps forward, instinctively calling out for it, “Hello?”
There was, of course, no answer. You didn’t know what you had expected to come out of the simple greeting anyway. Rocking back and forth on the sole of your shoes, your mind rakes with different possibilities of what could have happened. Had it taken off? Maybe someone had found it, even worse, killed it.
No, that couldn’t be right.
Then you spot it, light. That was new, for the cave had been nothing but a room of complete darkness, ever since you first stepped foot here. Eager, you approach the source, forgetting all about your lantern as you discard it on the floor. Due to your previous visits being spent in such dim light, you had never noticed that the cave curled in on itself, leading even deeper than you’d originally thought.
The squeeze to get through however, was tight. There was no way a dragon would be able to fit through here. Rough and cold stone scrapes against your chest and back as you push yourself between the rocks, determined to find your way to the other side, to the light. — With a heavy sigh you finally stumble free, bracing your hands on your knees as you allow yourself to catch your breath.
When you glance up you realize that what you had stepped into was an even bigger part of the cave. But this one was basked in the warm rays of the sun. You’re almost blinded by the bright light, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Half the cave opened up and out into the sky. From here, the snowy mountains looked absolutely breathtaking.
And as you regard the snow coated treetops, the way the sun reflected off the white surfaces, it suddenly hit that you had never actually stopped to admire your surroundings. Each day had been a battle to the top, never once had you taken a break to glance around, to appreciate nature in its truest and rawest form.
But your moment of serenity is quickly broken by the sound of what you assumed to be a rock rolling across the cavern floors, the noise ripping you from your trance. You spin around, eyes wide as you try to locate its source, all to no avail. This part of the cave seemed just as empty as the last and the frown on your face only grew.
The dragon was really gone.
Then, just as you’re about to turn back, all air was knocked out of your lungs. The first thing you feel is pain, sharp and flaring through your body when your back is slammed against the cave wall. Your scream never makes it past your lips. And suddenly, the light that had previously enveloped you whole, was gone, shielded by something – by someone.
Your jaw hangs slack, the same terror you had felt on your first encounter with the dragon returning. It takes a moment for your flimmering eyes to adjust, but when they do you finally see the man before you. His face is dark, clouded by rage. The almost pitch black hair on his head falls in front of his eyes but you can hardly focus on his complexion, much too aware of the large hand he had wrapped around your throat.
Your breath hitches, a faint and helpless gasp escaping your open mouth. Who was he? Why was he here… How did he know about this place? — But then your gaze falls on his naked chest, there, covered in gauze and moss, the very same gauze and moss you had so carefully wrapped around its once large wing.
Finally, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re dark and gloomy, but they’re familiar. As they narrow on you, there’s an undeniable hint of blue, shining within their irises depths – an icy and cold blue.
You realize then that the man before you was the dragon himself.
“I…” Desperately your fingers claw at his hand, trying to pry him off of you. The urge to speak is strong, but his vice-like grip overpowers it. His chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged and rough, his hand around your throat tightening with deadly force. — “Why did you come back?” It’s the first time he utters as much as a word. It sounds strained, as though he’d gone years in silence.
When he finally releases his hold on your neck you fall forward, clutching at your throat whilst gasping for air. He watches you soundlessly, his expression twisted into a scowl. “W-What..?” You finally manage to croak out, feeling as though your wobbly knees were about to give out any second now.
The man scoffs, his fist connects with the cave wall next to you and the stones crack under his knuckles. “You should not have come here”, he barks, fury radiating off of him. “You do not belong here, human.”
He says the term with such distaste, making it sound derogatory. Perhaps it was. Yet you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. This was the very same dragon you’d been tending to for almost a whole week now. The creature in which you’d poured your love and affection onto, carefully building what you thought to be a relationship based on trust.
But as he stands before you in his human form, you hardly recognize him.
The man takes a step back, leaving you to exhale in relief. He turns away from you, as if trying to disregard your presence completely. You watch as he approaches the edge of the cave, where the bright sky meets the dark mountain. — Even with his back turned, you could tell that he was beautiful, breathtaking.
“I don’t understand…” Your quiet whisper seems to echo, a sound that you should be used to by now. Still, you can’t help but cower at the intensity of your words. The drag- man, does not turn to look behind him, does not spare you as much as a single glance. “It is not for you to understand”, he firmly states, his tone holding a bitter and resentful edge.
You shake your head, “I helped you-” — “You humiliated me.” He’s looking at you now, his cold gaze reaching you from across the cave. Your stomach drops at the statement. Have you done something wrong? You thought you were helping… “You degraded me by putting your filthy human hands on me.” He spits the words out, his voice laced with a venom so poisonous that it sunk into your veins.
“You were hurt-”
“I would have been fine”, he snaps. You feel frozen under his stare, unable to move as you shrink against the cave wall. He glances toward the bandage around his chest, the traces of what you had thought to be a gesture of kindness and empathy was something he regarded with hatred. It hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists by his side.
“You should leave.”
Your blood ran cold at that and your lips part, an objection ready on your tongue. But he’s quick to realize that you won’t budge. With a small grunt he turns his back on you a second time, as he does, you catch a glimpse of the many scars slashed across his skin. They were a bright white, appearing healed though it seemed not even time could make them fade completely.
Before you can get another word out, before you can reach for him – he leaps off the edge. A terrified scream leaves your lips, and you slap a hand across your open mouth in shock. For a second you thought that he might have actually taken his own life, right before your very eyes. Everything is silent at that moment, and you do not dare move.
The sound of wings, slapping against the cold air is what gives you new hope. You see him, the pale blues easily giving him away as he pierces through the clouds, riding out the hurling winds. Your heart aches at the sight, for reasons unbeknownst to you, reasons you don’t think you wanted to get to the bottom of.
Suppose you would miss him, the lonely dragon.
𓍼ོ
Days passed. Days that would soon turn into weeks. The reality of your otherwise mundane life slowly sunk in, like fog easing its way from the ground after a rainy day. Only there was no sun to greet you after such gloomy weather. Your life seemed bleak these days. You did not know if that had to do with the absence of the dragon, whose name you never got, or your grandfather, whose health was declining each day.
Your days had shifted, and you no longer spent as much time in the garden. Hours upon hours were passed in the presence of your grandpa. His hand in yours as your thumbs caress his old and wrinkled skin. — He would cough a lot, and you could tell that it his condition was starting to wear him out. Regardless of that, he continued to drag on his long stories about the dragons, only with slightly less action.
Because even his stoires had found new attention.
“You know, they were actually quite crafty too.” Your grandpa’s voice is hoarse, and sometimes you need to strain your ears in order to hear him. Nevertheless, you sit by his rockingchair as he inistied on not spending his entire days bedridden. A blanket is placed over his lap, for he easily got cold these days, despite it being late summer still.
“The dragons?” You ask, to which your grandfather nods. “Ineed, in their human form of course. - And they were quite talkative too”, he recalls with a smile on his lips. You wanted to disagree on the matter, for the ice dragon you met had been anything but friendly. You thought you could still remember the glare he’d sent you, one that had stung through flesh and bone.
Your grandpa is attacked by another fit of coughs, and you help as best as you can by gently patting his back. “They sound lovely”, you murmur when readjusting the blanket over his legs. He gives your hand a thankful squeeze, humming in agreement. — “They are. Oh how I wish you should have known the gentle ways of a dragon, I think you would like it.”
He remains silent for a brief moment, his tired eyes lingering on the open window. The soft and warm summer breeze occasionally brushed past, sending a refreshing wave of air your way. Outside your younger cousins play, their screams of both joy and youth bounce off the trees. “Even my daughter might come to terms with it, had she just given them a chance.”
Something in the warm summer air shifted then, a darker cloud pulling over the otherwise clear sky. For long you had avoided the subject, danced around it because you were afraid, not of asking, but for receiving an answer. Still, your curiosity could not be contained, and as you witness your grandfather in his final moments, you realize that there might not be another oppurtitny for you to ask.
You clear your throat, shifting on your own chair as your hands remained clasped around your grandpa’s. “Say… What happened with my great grandfather?” You present the questions calmly, yet you avoid his eyes, your attention fixed on your intertwined fingers. — With a wheeze-like inhale, your grandpa sighs.
“You have not asked about him before”, he states and you can feel the slight tremble to his hands as they rest in your own. “No”, you say, “I haven’t.” You knew that avoiding this could not go on for forever, he knew it too. Your grandfather nods, taking another deep breath that seemed to cost a lot of effort.
“My father was a fearless man..” He begins telling it like he would any other story, but there’s a definite melancholic edge to his tone. “He was the closest our family ever got to the dragons”, he pauses, eyes flickering to met yours for a brief second, “Some even speculate that he fell in love with one of them.”
Your jaw slacks at that, the surprise evident on your face. “In love?” You echo, to which your grandfather chuckles. “She was a most beautiful woman, a man would be stupid not to recognize such, and my father was far from stupid.” He leans back in his rocking hair, it makes a creaking noise beneath his weight as it shifts backward every so slightly.
“They did spend a great deal of time together, much so that it worried the others.” — “Days could pass without my father returning from the mountains once. It’s quite confusing for a young boy such as myself to be left with his absence. - But I knew then, that my father’s love for the dragons was something I should aspire for myself.”
He made it sound beautiful, a lot more than it should have been. This was no fairytale for its ending was most gruesome. You knew that without having to ask. And with a heavy sigh, one that made his chest puff out before it shrunk again, your grandpa seems to come to terms with how the story had ended.
“Despite their love she still carried the deadly traits of the dragon. - But his death was never her fault.” Your grandpa turns to you with a solemn smile, “That’s what he would have wanted me to say.”
He doesn’t continue, even though you thought that he might. No, for once, your grandpa seems content with a shorter story, one that spoke for itself. Strangely enough it made you think of the dragon up in the mountain, he was not the same yet he was everything a dragon represented. He confused you, you told yourself that it was the reason he lingered in your mind, even when he shouldn’t.
𓍼ོ
Ingredients for your grandfather’s medicine were of best produce if you harvested them yourself. Your aunt Fiona had therefore urged you out the house that morning, making you embark on a rather long walk as you searched for the plant she desired. It was of magical properties supposedly, and therefore it grew only under magical conditions.
Lunarspore, or something along those lines was what it was called. A small, purple mushroom that thrived best in the murky waters of warm lagoons. Such a place did indeed exist on the island of Aethera, and as all humans, you knew its dangers. — Mushrooms weren’t the only thing that fed off of the almost glowing water. Beneath the surface lurked creatures far beyond any will of good.
Your feet come to a halt by the edge of the lake, your eyes narrowed as they peered across the thicker layer of fog that coated the misty surface. An uneasy feeling bubbles within your stomach, but you don’t turn back around despite your gut instinct screaming for you to do just that. Instead, you crouch down by the water, gaze searching for the round and plump mushroom.
It takes a while, but soon enough you stumble across one. With a relieved exhale you reach for the small knife stashed in your belt, flicking it in your open palm before reaching out to snag tha plant. You’re disappointed by its size, you would have expected them to be bigger. “This thing would barely last us a week..” You mutter as you begin searching for another one straight away.
To your surprise you find a second mushroom almost immediately. But to your dismay it was further out in the lagoon. You hesitate, gaze flickering between the safety of land and the need for the mushroom ahead. These waters scared you, and you did not want to wade out further than absolutely necessary. — In the end your desire to help your sick grandfather wins you over. With one tug, you pull your dress above your knees as you begin your descent into the lagoon.
For each step you take forward the water seems to get warmer. A strange and almost calm feeling washes over you, it puts you at ease, even as your mind yells for you to turn back. You ignore the strange sensations and keep your eyes set on the target ahead. Finally, as you reach the mushroom, you reach for it, but before the blade of your knife can slice it from its roots, a quiet whisper pulls your attention to the left.
Nothing but still and purple water fills your vision, yet you can’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone. Something, someone, was there with you, lurking and stalking where your weak human eyes couldn’t see. The whisper is soft, it sounds almost like a melody, a sweet and enticing tune. You know you shouldn’t listen, you should scream for its silence and beg for your life.
But you can’t help but fall under its trance.
The water moves, gentle waves brushing against your naked legs. Your dress falls from the now loose grasp of your fingers, the cotton immediately being soaked up by the lagoon. The mushroom is long forgotten and the knife threatens to slip from your hands.
You see it now, long and flowy hair reaching the surface, its arms outstretched as it approaches. But you do not feel fear, in fact your whole body is calm, frozen in place as you watch the siren approach. You knew what was coming yet you couldn’t find it in you to lift as much as a finger in order to stop it.
Its wet and long fingers lock around your wrist, slowly tugging you toward the murky water. Its song rings clear in your ears now, but you cannot make out as much as a single word. You allow yourself to be pulled, the water is warm and inviting, enveloping you whole. For a moment you forget about everything, nothing exists and time is not real.
But then, just as your head was about to submerge under the surface, something hard and sharp hits you across the stomach. You’re lunged backward, snatched from the siren’s gentle but firm grip and hurled into the sky. At first, you’re too dazed to even realize what had just happened, but when your vision finally clears, and you behold the ground so far beneath you, is when you scream.
Everything was moving at an alarming speed, the wind whistling in your ears, the sound followed by that of winds slapping against the air. You glance up only to be met by the very same dragon you thought you had seen for the last time. He’s looking straight ahead, clearly unbothered by your terror as you squirm in the gras of his long claws.
If he let go now, you would fall to your immediate death, reduced to nothing more but a pile of shattered limbs as you melt against the ground. The thought scared the living daylights out of you and you stop fighting and instead cling onto him with all your might.
You’re… confused. Why was he here? After your last encounter you’d been certain that you were to never cross paths again. Yet here he was, not only that… He’d saved you. You dare another glance down, beneath you your surroundings are changing quickly. From up here they all seemed small and insignificant, even the lagoon which you had almost fallen victim to.
Your eyes shift toward the dragon, watching as his now healed wings tore through the sky, carrying you to a destination still unknown. You swallow, feeling at loss for words. His hold on you was firm, but it didn’t hurt but you felt pathetically weak squeezed between his claws. — The questions of why and how continue to run through your jumble of thoughts, even when the snowy mountain comes into vision.
Up here, the mountain seems a lot smaller, lesser. Fog covers the bottom half of it, making it impossible to even get a peek of the ground itself. He aims for an opening, one so familiar that your stomach dropped all the way to your toes. You knew exactly where he was taking you now.
He slows down, large wings twisting in the air as he comes to an almost abrupt halt. You shriek when the claws around you loose, making you slip from their hold. But the wet and cold cave floor isn’t far, and you land on wobbly feet with a small thud. The dragon quickly joins you, but the sound of him landing is not the loud and powerful noise you’re expecting, and when you turn around, you find him in human form again.
He runs his fingers through his dark hair with a small shake off his head, it looked almost as though he was dusting himself off. Your eyes trail across his muscular frame, something you had barely allowed yourself to look at last time. Briefly you wonder why he always seemed to appear without a shirt or any garment to cover his chest, but when your gaze flickers over his toned stomach, you find that you did not mind.
Dark yet cold and almost icy eyes flit over to you, and they narrow as he catches you staring. You blink, pulling your invading gaze from him as it jumps across the cave, one you had been in before, both of you. It’s then that reality slowly washes over you, you were here, with him, and he’d just saved you from a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to say.
“Thank you.”
You smile, hoping that the sincerity and your gratitude would show. But the man only frowns, his stoic features twisting into confusion as he watches you from the other side of the cave, a far and safe distance from you. “What for?” He grunts, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.
With parted lips you find yourself mimicking his perplexed expression. “You saved me…” Because he did, right? But he only shakes his head, emitting a small scoff as his jaw clenches. “The siren, the lagoon, I was… I would be..” — “You would be dead”, he calmly states, the simplicity to his tone made you want to shiver.
“I paid my end of the bargain”, he then says and for a moment you could not wrap your head around what he meant by that. Then it all came together. He was making amends for his broken wing, the one you had so carefully tended to, even without his compliance or permission.. Still he was willing to do the same for you, even if only to pay back the debt that seemed to weigh him down.
“Now we no longer have any reason to see each other”, he states as a matter of factly. You can’t tell if he looks relieved or merely tired, or perhaps maybe just at peace. He turns from you, and you panic, worried that he was about to take off once more. You don’t think you could stand seeing him leave, not again. Truth was, you had grown quite attached to the dragon… Yet you knew so little about him.
“You have yet to tell me your name.” It was the first question that came to mind. You bite your tongue, but when his eyes only narrow you quickly add, “You know mine.” It was true, you had told him your own name on your third or fourth encounter, for it had felt rude not to introduce yourself when tending to his wounds.
He scoffs, averting his gaze as it roams the now pink sky, painted by the warm hues of the slowly setting sun. His cold skin looked raw under the orange rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by everything that is him. You had so many questions for him, so many answers you longed to hear. Was he really the last ice dragon? How did they all die, and why had he lived?
Everything is silent for a minute, much so that you swore you heard the song of birds in the far distance. Then he exhales, a long and low breath. Without looking at you he says, “Taehyun.”
“Taehyun is my name.”
You instantly smile, practically beaming toward him. “That’s a beautiful name”, you hum. Taehyun snorts, giving a small roll of his eyes as he turns away from you to peer out over the sky. “There’s hardly anything beautiful about a dragon.” He says it so quietly, almost a whisper. It was probably never intended for your ears, but you hear it.
Why did he loathe his own kind? How could he be ashamed of something so majestic as himself. It made no sense. — Your feet move on their own, slowly carrying you across the cave. You never stop to think, and Taehyun does not turn your way. Then, before you know it, you’re beside him.
His skin is cold against your lips when you press a hesitant kiss to his cheek. His jaw twitches, and you feel his heavy gaze on you once you pull back. His dark brows are furrowed into a confused frown, but he doesn’t look angry. “It’s how we say thank you.” You smile in a way you hadn’t in ages.
Taehyun watches you, his eyes studying your face intently, as if considering his next move carefully. “You humans are strange”, he mutters, but there’s an almost teasing edge to his tone, much different from his usual gloomy demeanor. “A good strange or a bad strange?” You ask as you nervously pull your bottom lip between your teeth.
He shakes his head, turning to face your way and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize just how close you were standing. His expression is still hardened, as if stuck in a permanent frown. Within his dark irises swirl strings of cold blue, and they seemed to shimmer under the setting sun.
You tense up when he suddenly moves even closer, his ice cold chest brushing against your flaring hot one. “Good”, he exhales, his cool breath slapping your across the face when he leans in to press his lips against yours. His kiss is not the same sweet and hesitant gesture you’d given, but it’s not rough either. It’s… him.
A single shiver runs down your spine when his hand snakes to the back of your neck. It was so very different from when he’d had his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing with all his might. He touched you like you were made of porcelain, one push too far would make you shatter in his palm, and he would be unable to piece you back together.
The kiss goes on for forever, time slows down until it ceases to exist. You want to watch him, drink in his almost serene expression. Yet your eyes flutter closed as you return the gesture. Never did you question why he did it, because that didn’t matter. He felt so perfect against you, as if he was made for you and you only. Perhaps in another universe he was, in a universe where you were just like him, and not a weak and frail human.
He pulls back, lips parting only an inch from your own, his forehead resting against yours. He’s breathing softly, the tension washed from his face as he regards your flustered one. “That’s how we say thank you”, he murmurs.
“Why are you thanking me?” You whisper, your wide eyes peering into his. Taehyun sighs, blinking slowly as he swallows. “I don’t know. Why are you thanking me?” — You smile, your shoulders slumping into a shrug. “I don’t know.”
You saved him, and he saved you. A favor for a favor. You were no longer bound to the other yet it somehow felt like your heart was going to break into a million pieces if you let go now. Taehyun inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring when he does. “Can I kiss you again?” He wonders, and the question makes you almost delirious.
“Yes.” You’re already pressing your lips against his, desperate to feel him on you once more. He smiles into the kiss, a gesture so warm and contrasting to the cold and freezing layer of ice covering him. — Your hands are on his naked chest, fingers splayed across the now healed scar. The soft groan he emits vibrates on your tongue, urging your bodies flush against one another.
“You’re so warm”, he murmurs against your skin as his kisses move to your cheek and down your jaw. Your head falls back, the sunset basking the two of you in color, the world outside silently watching. — “You’re cold..” You whisper, your fingers intertwining in his dark hair regardless.
Taehyun chuckles, a sound you’d never before heard him make, it made your heart flutter. “I am”, he hums, his own hands trailing down your sides, relishing in the way you shiver as you stubbornly cling to him. The cold could not deter you, it never had and it never would. For Taehyun’s heart held all the warmth you should ever need.
The kiss ends for a split second in order for you to catch your breaths. Soft sounds of heavy panting fill the large cave, echoing off its dark and wet walls. You swallow, taking the moment to find your bearings as you gaze into his shimmering eyes. You knew then that he was someone you could trust, with your life if need be. It made your next move all the more obvious.
As you brush a dark strand from his face, you exhale. “I… There’s someone I want you to meet.”
𓍼ོ
“Careful”, you murmur as you lead your grandfather through the high grass. He coughs and tries to swat your hands away but you insist on keeping a firm hold around his shoulders. “There, there, don’t wear yourself out.”
“Pfft-” Your grandpa scoffs, shaking his head as he trudges on forward. “I haven’t been out and about like this in weeks, I’ve saved plenty of energy for the occasion.” He assures you. But you could tell by his laboured breathing and trembling arms that he was tired. You would have felt bad bringing him out here, wasting his precious energy like that. — But today was different.
“Why are we even out here anyways? You can hardly expect me to help harvest any herbs..” He mutters as his tired eyes flicker across the open meadow. It was calm, the late summer air basking the two of you in a warm glow. “No grandpa”, you smile as you pat his shoulder, “That’s not why we’re here.”
Your old man hums, giving a small nod as you come to a stop in the middle of the opening. “I have seen grass before, dear.” He gives you a pointed look and you can’t help but giggle as you shake your head. “I know, you’ve seen what I’m about to show you before too… But I still think you’ll like it.”
Your grandfather raises a brow your way, his lips parting as if to say something, but before he gets the chance to, the trees ahead rustle. The sound snaps both of your attention that way, and you manage to catch a glimpse of your grandpa’s curious eyes just as Taehyun emerges from the forestline.
When you’d first asked him, the request felt pushy, perhaps a little too much, but to your greatest joy, he’d agreed. The white and blue scales on his skin shimmer in the sunlight, and his nearly translucent wings seem to sparkle when he moves closer. He looks magical, hauntingly beautiful. But you force your gaze away from him and over to your grandfather.
He was watching Taehyun with a slack jaw, his eyes wide as sausages and you’re glad that you’re holding on to him when his legs buckle. “That..” He begins, his mouth dried up and his voice hoarse. He turns to you, as if in disbelief before quickly glancing back toward the dragon before him. “Is he real?” He quietly whispers and you bite back a giggle.
“Of course”, you say as you take his hand in yours. “Do you want to get closer?” The question was hardly needed for your grandfather moves with both newfound strength and speed as he approaches Taehyun who’s standing a mere ten feet away. He stops only when the dragon’s cold breath caresses his old and wrinkly face, a smile unlike anything you’d seen before etching its way across his lips.
“He’s real”, your grandpa states, and you swore you could see the happiness blooming in his heart. His gaze wanders across Taehyun’s blue scales, a small frown tugging on his brows. “He’s…” — “An ice dragon”, you nod, “They’re not extinct.”
Taehyun makes a small sound that comes across as half a grunt, half a snort. Your grandfather doesn’t seem to mind, far too preoccupied with taking in the sight before him. “How?” He whispers as he reaches a trembling hand out to touch the very tip of Taehyun’s cold nose. The action is intimate, and it makes your heart swell.
You never give him an answer, you’re not sure what you could even say. All you knew was that you had made his final wish possible, nothing else could make you feel better. — He spends the entire day with Taehyun, and when he shifts into his human form the two converse for hours on end. You watch them, wordlessly admiring the two. From the way your grandpa’s face lit up whenever Taehyun spoke of his life, to the dragon himself when he listened to your grandfather’s stories.
As the sun set you practically had to drag your old man home, promising that Taehyun would visit as soon as he had the chance. — Even though such a time never came.
Your grandpa died that night, it was a peaceful death, one kind and gentle. You watched with tears in your eyes as he inhaled a last time, his chest rising as he did. And when he finally exhaled, everything stopped. Every story and every adventure of his were reduced to just that… tales. Something to remember and to cherish.
You cried until the sun rose on the naked sky, your tears drying just in time for fresh ones to spill. You cried until your chest hurt and your lips were bitten bloody. You grieved your grandfather with every fiber of your being, until there was nothing left but large and hollow holes in your body, filled with an eternal sadness.
Taehyun was there, he came when he heard your cries. Even though his embrace was cold and his arms freezing as they wrapped around you, there was never a moment where you felt yourself shiver. For there was warmth in his heart, enough for it to spread to your own. — Taehyun would help you live, just like you had helped him.
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[Click for better quality]
Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!
Artist's Notes;
So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.
After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.
If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.
Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.
BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)
#touhou project#art#fanart#touhou fanart#touhou 17#keiki haniyasushin#wily beast and weakest creature#touhou#東方project#own art
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Seriously what was this guy’s problem
Been wanting to do a drawing with how I imagine Victoria’s fear aura to look like and this arc gave a good opportunity for that. Thoughts on the arc itself below
Ended up with a lot of thoughts this arc so doing this now rather than waiting for Arc 9. Also started writing more of these comments as I read rather than after the chapter/arc.
Arc 8
Looking at the audiobook and thought, Chapters at a reasonable length? Maybe?
Yay Defiant and Dragon!
I liked the little scene of Victoria asking about Armsmaster’s plan during the Leviathan fight in the context of her family’s deaths. Usually thought about if Aegis got killed as collateral damage from the luring plan and how Defiant felt about that now, kinda forgot Manpower was also there
Huh yeah kinda funny how tinker personalities divide like that. Some of these segments of Victoria’s narration do feel a bit rambly or tangential (sometimes kinda feels like WB taking any opportunity to expand the worldbuilding on powers) but at the same time can be fun and highlight how Victoria’s more of a cape nerd to Taylor’s power munchkin
“Wow Kenzie you sure know a lot about lead poisoning!” “Thanks I researched it a lot” … :(
More things building up for Capricorn’s story. Guessing he’s our next focus this arc or the next? Having to timeshare a body with contrasting personalities does sound like it’d suck, even moreso with the sexuality stuff
Damn Monokeros is creepy. Casually having Birdcage tier capes sitting in the same prison as lesser criminals, especially ones with that strong of a Master power, is probably the biggest flaw of the prison system here. Not to mention it being accessible enough to be the target of any capable masterminds in need of minions it seems. I forget, did Khepri or Scion collapse the Birdcage or something to that effect? Or is it just because it’s on Earth Bet that they don’t use it anymore?
Kenzie highlighted the main theme of Breakthrough’s powers: They almost all have incredibly strong and potentially deadly powers, but for one reason or another they hold back, for the most part because they’re heroes. It’s interesting, but also makes me wonder how things will go when they face a threat they can go all out on (like an Endbringer tier or someone with a kill order)
Finally got to see the whole “everyone jumps the rulebreakers” thing Tattletale talked about in the whole cops and robbers talk way back in Worm, at least for smaller time rulebreakers and not S Class threats.
Also still reinforces my thought that Prancer is essentially a more villainous Skitter from an outside perspective. The Undersiders were playing pretty loose with the Unwritten Rules as well by the end of things
Cryptid continues to get weirder and more horrifying what do you mean he has a form that gives birth
(8.7) Wretch, kill Monokeros with hammers please. And Kenzie please don’t internalize what the creepy child killer thinks.
I’ve only had the Major Malfunctions for 1 chapter and if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then Carol
Ok actually Carol is being kinda cool here… how is she gonna mess this up? Aside from the probably unintentional bit where she assumed Tristan was straight
(8.9) The little secret the group’s keeping from Victoria… I’m guessing its Wretch related or Amy related
“We’re gonna show everyone we can handle PR” ok cool how will you do that Vic- “by telling everyone what happened in Gold Morning” what
(8.11) This is feeling like a high stakes version of 25.4… This won’t end with a 7th Endbringer, right? /j
(8.11) These hosts could never be O, J, and Koffi like they are just all kinds of awful.
That said, it makes sense Victoria is better with PR than Taylor, given New Wave basically depends on PR
Speaking of, Taylor mention! Love the ascension of her rep to “traumatized literally everyone”, and not even using bugs to do it. Wonder how she’d react to that if she somehow learned about it on Aleph.
(8.12) Actually can a 7th Endbringer show up and kill Hamza and John Combs? What the hell is their problem
Between these guys and the Martins, by comparison Carol might actually not be that bad- wait Carol what are you doing
(8.12) Oh ok that’s where Carol messes it all up. Sees Victoria forced to confront her trauma in front of thousands and went “How can I make this about Amy 😈”
Granted, Amy was kinda dragged into the spotlight as well with all that. Fuck Hamza, seriously. Still, not now Carol.
(8.12)…Speaking of. Well damn Amy didn’t realize you had game like that.
(8.x) Please take all of Kenzie’s suffering and give it to Hamza and John Combs
Awkward girl who thinks of herself as weird? Surprising calm confidence in dangerous situations? Incredibly down bad narration around a specific guy? Close enough, Natalie. Welcome back Arc 1-7 Taylor /j
Hookline and Kitchen Sink losing to an untrained civilian and a mostly techless Tinker they are never living this down 😭
(8.y) Every fanfic with Scapegoat in it should have him just randomly keel over with injuries from another Scapegoat’s healing (ik thats not how it works but it’d be funny)
Gotta love power synergies, even if it’s Teacher exploiting them. Also Valefor really does just keep winning (in terms of getting to use his power, probably not gonna be winning as Teacher’s thrall)
Dinah mention?? What’s she up to now?
And a Contessa mention. Not liking that Teacher has plans for her.
#wardblr#parahumans#wildbow#ward spoilers#worm spoilers#fanart#victoria dallon#antares#im not tagging these hosts they suck#might do another post about how i visualize victoria’s aura / other powers in my head#worlds slowest ward liveblog#i mean i got through this arc pretty fast#but its what ive been tagging it so anyway
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could you write yandere/possesive astrid please?
Yandere Astrid Headcanon
Thank you for your request @cosmic-c0met. I hope you like it!
Up Next: Yandere Hiccup Headcanon, The First Kindness (Yandere Tuffnut x Reader) To find my master list, click HERE.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"You're mine. You don’t get to decide that. You just need to stay close, and love me like you already do."
Astrid has always defined herself by strength.
In a village where weakness was punished and admiration had to be earned with sweat, blood, and steel, Astrid learned early that love wasn’t given—it was won. Not through softness, but victory. She was a shieldmaiden long before she ever held a shield.
Then you showed up.
A traveler that appeared on Berk one day.
You weren’t a warrior. Not really. Maybe you’d been trained. Maybe you could defend yourself in a pinch. But you weren’t like her. And yet… when you looked at her, really looked, your gaze was steady.
Not impressed. Not dismissive. Just—present. As if you saw her, not her titles or accolades. Like she was human.
That unsettled her more than any enemy blade.
You said her swing was graceful. That watching her move was like watching a storm choose where to land. You left before realizing what those words did to her.
No one had ever described her with poetry before. No one had made her feel soft without insulting her strength.
That night, she skipped dinner and stared at the ceiling of her hut, hands clenched tight, your voice echoing in her ears until the candle burned low.
She thought of your smile until morning.
And over the next several days—much to her growing frustration—Astrid finds it impossible to keep you out of her thoughts. No matter how hard she tries to bury the fluttering ache in her chest, your voice echoes in her mind at the worst possible times.
In an effort to silence it, she throws herself deeper into her training. Every spare moment is consumed with rigorous drills, her strikes sharper, faster, more brutal than ever.
She designs new sparring routines and tests herself against increasingly difficult combinations, demanding perfection from her movements until her muscles burn.
With Stormfly, she runs aerial simulations at dawn and dusk, refining attack patterns and inventing evasive maneuvers in case of future encounters with dragon hunters. She tells herself it's preparation.
Strategy.
Duty.
No matter how hard she tries, she just couldn't stop remembering your kindness and the way you treat her with gentle respect instead of awe or fear. It makes her chest ache with something she hates to admit is longing.
Astrid hates this.
She hates how unsteady you make her feel. How soft. How jealous.
Every time she sees someone else make you laugh—especially if it’s Hiccup or Snotlout—her jaw clenches hard enough to ache. She doesn't say anything.
But that night, she trains until her hands bleed. She carves your name into the handle of her axe. Just small. Hidden.
She tells herself it’s just to remember.
She begins journaling—not words, but drawings. Of you. Your face. Your posture. You smiling. You wounded. You sleeping. She hates herself for doing it, even as she fills another page.
She tries to distance herself once. For your sake. One full day without you. She lasts until noon before she’s trembling and furious. She finds you by the beach, laughing with Fishlegs.
He doesn't come to training for three days after that.
Afterwards, she starts observing you more.
Astrid prides herself on awareness. Tactical planning. Observation. So at first, that’s all she’s doing.
Observing and memorizing all your little habits.
What time you wake. The way you tie your boots. How your face looks when you're thinking too hard and your tongue peeks from the corner of your mouth. She counts your steps without meaning to. Learns the rhythm of your laughter. Notices how you linger a little longer in the forge—not for the metal, but the warmth.
But soon enough, only observing you from afar doesn't satisfy her longing, so she finds excuses to be nearby.
You never notice her sharpening her axe in the shadows while you gather wood. Or how she volunteers for lookout duty every time you venture near the cliffs. Or how she walks behind you in silence, perfectly out of sight, just to make sure you get home safe.
She starts to notice the people around you, too. The ones who talk to you too long. Who look at you the way she looks at you.
After that, Astrid starts showing up more often. At first it’s subtle—training near where you’re working, inviting you to spar, walking with you when you leave the village.
Then it becomes more deliberate.
She corrects your technique before you ask. She gives you tips before a hunt. She warns you—gently—about people who might not have your best interests at heart.
“Oh, Ruffnut? She likes to play with people’s feelings. I’d stay away.”
“Oh, that trader? Yeah, no. He’s not… safe.”
She’s always polite. Warm. You never feel pressured. But little by little, your world starts to shrink. The people you spend time with become her approved circle. You start seeing her everywhere, and it feels natural. Comfortable.
You don't realize you haven’t spent a full day away from her in weeks.
By now, you spend nearly every day with Astrid. It just… happens. You never agreed to it, but her presence fits into your day like a rhythm you didn’t know you needed.
She gives you training tips. Puts extra food on your plate. Lends you her cloak when it rains—not because you’re cold, but because she’s cold when you are.
She starts gifting you weapons. Not generic ones—custom-forged, adjusted for your grip, balanced for your strength.
“I made it for you,” she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “So if you ever need to fight beside me… you’ll be ready.”
You laugh, trying to brush it off, but she doesn’t. Her fingers linger on your wrist.
“I’m serious. I want you safe.”
The blade is too nice to refuse. The sentiment too intimate to question.
You wear it every day.
What you didn’t realize, however, was that on Berk, gifting someone a weapon wasn’t just a gesture of kindness—it was a silent confession of love.
And by accepting it, you had unknowingly sealed a bond with Astrid, one that, in the eyes of her people… meant the two of you were now together.
There’s a small, silent part of Astrid that understands she’s crossed a line. That if Hiccup—or anyone, really—ever uncovered the full extent of it all—the silent tracking, the carefully crafted lies, the quiet manipulation—they’d stare at her like they didn’t even know who she was.
But they don’t see it. Not truly.
She wears her loyalty like armor and her smile like a shield. No one ever questions the golden girl of Berk—the chief’s most trusted, the flawless second-in-command.
And she intends to keep it that way.
While everyone else sees the picture-perfect warrior, she’s steadily, quietly rearranging your entire world around her. Your routines. Your relationships. Your choices.
You just haven’t noticed yet.
And if, one day, you do? If you somehow piece it all together?
She’ll smile. Calm. Unshaken.
Because by then, it’ll be far too late.
After all…
As if she’d ever let you leave her.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Tags: @cosmic-c0met
#yandere#httyd#how to train your dragon#yandere httyd#yandere Astrid#astrid hofferson#yandere how to train your dragon#astrid#female yandere
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Alright let’s talk about the fandom. Seriously.
Immaturity and bad takes are impossible to avoid since this is literally a book for pre to post teens, a lot of older people either love or grew up with it, but have left because of the loud majority of minors. This post is mostly for those younger people, so keep that in mind.
I’ll just say this real quick, if you’re 12 and under. Get off, it’s truly for your own safety you shouldn’t even be online, be patient and wait, it will be worth it I promise. Young minds should definitely NOT be interacting with this fandom at all.
These books and the fandom means a lot to me, and to see it on fire breaks my heart, so here I propose some temporary solutions and suggestions:
Draw people’s ocs! No matter how off cannon or op they may be, this fandom is full of children and a little kindness can go a long way
Encourage nuance, I know it’s not our job to parent the kids who are left abandoned on the internet, but I think it’s important to understand where these kids are coming from. Learning is hard for some but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be held accountable for your actions. Differing opinions might be trivial to some who grew up in an echo chamber of the same views as them, so take a mindful approach of sharing new ideas, don’t just say “This idea is correct and because you don’t think it is you’re wrong”.
Positivity and kindness. This one is very important, you need to listen to one another and give everyone a chance to speak, there are so many diverse people across the fandom and we all just want to enjoy our dragons. Ruining the fun by harassing innocent people is not okay, relax a bit and step back, this is all just a series about a fictional species with rules that can be easily bent for fan content, everyone is having fun together, and you can either watch, partake, or ruin it.
I think that’s all I have to say for now, I just love psychology and growing minds are fascinating to me, I love children with all of my heart (not like that) and it’s upsetting to see them fighting with each other or getting dog piled by older people! Please, this fandom has to be way more mindful of it wants to continue, minors in fandoms are unavoidable but you can easily make 16-18+ servers or groups.
With that being said, I genuinely love you all and I wish to see this thrive, continue doing your art, your writing, or whatever the hell you do, I’ve seen so much amazing mixed media projects about these dragons and it makes me so happy that people are sharing this stuff with the world. I love you artists, fellow fandom siblings, and to all else who reads this, have a good day/night 💖
.
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So,your headcanons for supa strikas? I wanna hear it.
Damn so this is gonna be the first time im gonna make some headcanons about the strikas,so this is what my headcanon and opinion about them :
•Dancing rasta has a dream to make a cooking show but in my universe he did have a cooking show and a cooking book special for the super league to know his barbecue recipes
•Twisting tiger can draw a bit or some doodles because he watched many animes and his favorite is captain Tsubasa,ghibli’s,dragon ball z (maybe thats how he got the idea to put his hair up so he could be tall),demon slayer,and bleach and he always tells shakes to join him watch them
•I KNOW EL-MATADOR WATCH THOSE KIM KARDASHIAN SHOWS OR CELBRITIY SHOWS AND WILL GO “this is stupid! That outfit is soo last year” or “ugh! I know that rumor was fake! They think they can hide it? BAH!” while drinking his tea and eat some biscuits (he will also say “theyre so dramatic without knowing he also did that in living the el life) also he always shares to his fans about his diet food and skincare routines but they have to pay because thats a secret thing to feel the beauty~
•cool joe…my god…I KNOW THAT MEN LOVES MICHAEL JACKSON AND LIONEL RICHIE.also this guy have many vintage disc,stuff,and clothes
•North shaw will go feral if he founds a new place to surf in the world or a tropical awesome paradise.if coach gives him that “you can go for a holiday but only for-“ north will go with his bags without let coach finish his sentence and that makes coach always frustrated but he knows he cant stop him
•Klaus oh god KLAUS!? This boy is so precious in the team like bro😭only god knows how this men grows up with that pure and innocent and KIND PERSONALITY!?This men tried everything to be in every conversation in the strikas if cool joe tells a them to hear a new song at night klaus will search and learn the artist so he can talk to every strikas without them teasing him,he loves his aunt so much and his cousins because there this thing inside me that bugs me saying like klaus lives with his aunt from high school to collage because his mom wants him to be a city boy AND ALSO THIS GUY CAME FROM THE VILLAGE SO THATS MY REASON WHY HIS MOM ASK HIS AUNT TO RAISE HIM IN THE CITY
•Shakes,if you stole his video game controller he would have a spare one and if you stole that too he would play his nintendo switch and if you also steal that he would play his little game boy.thats how my boy cope his problems okay? So please let him
•blok,RAHHHHHHHHHH AHHHH this boy is so precious to me too:( i know he is the youngest and attack is the big brother type also you guys remember his teddy bear? Yeah in the wiki it says that he has 2 and their name was Cheringham and Aristotle but the teddy bear we always see in the show is Cheringham please dont attack me on this one but Cheringham is a representation of his late mom 🙂 i know! I know! This is a “huh?” Headcanon but trust me i can see it and also his dad isnt abusive he just cant get over his mom death and as for Aristotle is a representation of attack because he misses his brother too.now you know why he sleeps with those two furballs because he wants to keep his loved ones in his hands and imagine them hugging him back in everyway and thats why he want to swim to the lake to get Cheringham back in season 4 eps 49 in stumble on the jungle.
•Big bo is batman in the strika world.
(Im so happy i can make my first headcanon and im sorry if my english is bad)
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Hello everyone, I am opening up donation commissions! Specifically for these donation drawings the cause I want to focus on is the ongoing genocide and humanitarian crisis in Palestine. It is more important than ever to donate to help Palestinians as Israel's attacks only get worse by the hour. It may be easy to feel disconnected from something happening on the other side of the world, or that there’s nothing you can do to help. However, even just a small act of kindness can change someone's life. I know this small donation campaign won’t single handedly change the world, but I am hoping it can be that small act of kindness that someone needs right now.
So, how will this Donations for Drawings campaign work? It’s pretty simple, you donate to a cause that helps Palestinians and I will draw something for you! The more you donate, the better the drawing will be, but no donation is too small! This campaign will run for 2 weeks from 5/29 to 11:59pm PST on 6/12. Additionally the campaign won’t end until we reach the goal of at least $100 in donations (but we can go over the $100 goal in the 2 week timeline). I am accepting donations to family fundraisers, eSims, and donations to organizations/charities, however escape funds and eSims are a priority right now. If you need help figuring out where to donate, here are some options. This isn’t every fundraiser out there but it’s a good place to start.
Family Fundraisers (These are all vetted fundraisers): Gaza Funds (If you’re having trouble deciding on a family to donate to this site will automatically suggest a fundraiser when you open it) Operation Olive Branch Help Gaza Gaza Evacuation Relief Fund fundsforgaza | Instagram | Linktree
eSims: https://gazaesims.com/
Organizations/Charities: PCRF CareForGaza Supporting Displaced Families in Gaza https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2680 State of Palestine | World Food Programme Doctors Without Borders The National Emergency Appeal: Medical Aid for Palestinians Crips for eSims for Gaza | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising (if you can’t donate an eSim yourself you can donate here)
Once you donate you need to send proof of your donation to me. This can be done through a direct message or this google form https://forms.gle/bUzTb4bgCefc3Wec8. Proof of donation should include a timestamp, what type of donation you made, and how much you donated. Please remove or blackout any personal identification or banking information. Also, specifically for eSim donations you must also show that you forwarded the eSim to [email protected]. I am only accepting donations made during 5/29 or later.
For the drawings themselves, I am up for drawing anything (though I’m best at drawing dragons), Oc’s or Canon characters, just nothing that is NSFW, gore, or has hateful imagery. In your message please include a link to the character's profile (like a toyhouse page or wiki for canon characters) and/or include a reference image. The more you donate the better the drawing will be! Images of Palestinian solidarity can also be included in the drawing for free if you’d like, just specify that in your message. Additionally, these drawings will likely be posted to promote this donation campaign as well as donating to Palestinian causes in general. I can either tag you in these uploads or you can remain anonymous if you wish.
Thank you for reading all of the info for the donation commission! If you have any questions feel free to ask.
Additionally, if you want to help Palestinians but unfortunately can’t donate, there are still so many ways you can help! You can participate in boycotts https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott, do your daily click https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/, call and email your representatives to demand a ceasefire, and keep yourself educated by listening to Palestinian voices and learning from resources like https://decolonizepalestine.com/.
#Donations for Drawings#donations for palestine#donations for gaza#palestine#free gaza#free palestine#donation commissions#artists for palestine#dragon#dragon art#my art#important#Sorry this one isn't described at the moment#Also just realized there's kind of a gap between the $5 and $20 price points#At $10 would probably be a chibi headshot#Any hateful messages will be ignored or blocked :)
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heya lovelies, these weren't requested, i'm just on a huge tlb kick atm and wanted to share some love for david! please enjoy and let me know what you think! - mae
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Gif Credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs
Disclaimer: THERE ARE 18+ PARTS IN THIS PIECE SO MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!!
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
TLB Dating David Hc's:
° Rest assured that dating David means that the journey will never be boring. You're guaranteed for the adventure of a lifetime (or multiple depending on how you look at it). The party never ends until the first rays of the dawn find their way into the cracks of the caved-in hotel he and the boys reside in (almost dare I say) religiously. He bids himself farewell in your sleepy haze, departing on an sudden icy wind that leaves you sitting up rigid with shock. Only to find that you are utterly alone, save for the seagulls shrieking up above and the lulling waves lapping against sea foam cliffs.
° But as soon as dusk settles upon the sunshine resort of Santa Carla, you'll find David having appeared by your side with the same kind of magic of Christ's Resurrection. Sure, you may ask him how he has done such a thing, but it's seldom that you'll get a straightforward answer that doesn't sound as though it's dripping with a whole new meaning of "Oh, I'm going to fuck with you for sure".
(I mean, you asked for it!)
"Oh, that old trick? It's called climbing flights of stairs." David quips, cocking his eyebrow as he lights up a smoke.
"You asshole, I know how to use the stairs- but I swear you-" you are cut off effortlessly by his charming, gritty laugh and the full intensity of his icy blue gaze, which renders you utterly powerless.
"Then why ask the obvious, kitten? I think someone needs to get their brain CAT scanned. Are you sure you don't have some form of early onset dementia?"
° David is a mysterious fella indeed. He doesn't let much ruffle his feathers unless given a valid reason. He's enigmatic with his charm, drawing in droves of curious people, but not many of them live to see the light of day ever again. A peculiarity you were awfully aware of at the beginning of it all.
° He felt someone's persistent eyes upon him, and out of curiosity, he looked up to find you. Now, love at first sight doesn't suit David, but he couldn't deny it: He at least felt something when he stared back at you. Enough to worm his way into your life with wild simpers and an abundance of flirtations. He uprooted your nightly schedule with a promise of escape and eternal youth.
° David's snarky cynicism can often be the cause of a hurt heart,- as he's learned very well throughout his very long life so far-. This is why it's a blessing that you're able to roll with the punches and even fend yourself against him with a playful attitude. He's very much amused when those kitty-claws come out and rake down his chest. He likes to have fun with you, and enjoys it even more when you're having fun with yourself. He'll let you off the hook... for the most part. But it is pretty difficult to actually insult him.
"Oh, isn't that just endearing? You're pawing me to death." David simpers with boredom through a thick jet of dragons' breath, before leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. "Tell me something, when are those kitty claws actually coming out? I'm feeling a bit kinky tonight."
° Truthfully you never really will get to the end of his teasing tongue (in more than one way). David is mischievous, and is charismatic in the way he pushes those around him. You are no different, but with thick skin and a sharp tongue that mirrors his own, he cannot help but reward you. He enjoys keeping you on the very edge just for the sake of being a menace, which is more for his own entertainment than yours.
"Are we frustrated, kitten? Who would've thought you'd break so easily from a few touches and a few words..." he breathes in mock disappointment before an impish grin etches itself onto his features. In velvety tones he divulges, "Well, it's a good thing I'm good at piecing back together broken things. I think I might just rearrange you a bit first. Got any protests?"
"Fuck you!" You grit out.
"I'll start with that mouth first," he flashes a sultry grin before looming over you entirely.
° As much as you love this suave bastard, and he too loves you; it has become apparent that such a declaration verbally isn't really needed. Where David is good with his charming words, he feels that his actions also lend a "helping hand" when it comes to luring you into the fold as his partner. David lays claim over you more subtly than some of his other brothers, but said actions speak so loud that even outsiders can hear them as if they were screamed out at them.
° One thing is for certain; David isn't privy to the idea of sharing you with anyone. He is entirely selfish, wanting every part of you (warts and all) to himself. Does he admit this outwardly outside of yourself? No. But he does make it known.
° He has profound issues with jealousy, but unlike Paul and Marko, he's much like Dwayne: Settling scores when your back is turned. If someone is dumb enough to attempt flirting with you or trying to pick you up, David deals with them in fatal arrangements planned precisely in his head. You may notice the disappearances, or you may not. But either way, he's not letting up much.
"Who was that again? I haven't heard of them." He says in a nonchalant tone, but his eyes are biting, warning you to leave it be.
After all, he does this for a very good reason. It doesn't pertain to issues with his confidence. No, he's got buckets full of that. It's just the darkest parts of him have fully invited you in. There's no going back to a "normal life" when a vampire has fallen in love with you. His intent is to turn you- to be with you for eternity. It's just that simple.
° At the end of the night, the many trials and tribulations the pair of you have faced have made you stronger as a couple. From your fragile mortality being altered to the many hurdles you faced with fighting the hunters after The Boys - saving them. David does not know how to properly express his truest feelings through the process of words that aren't bitter or playful. So forgive him for the lack of them, but he also knows your true feelings too: He'd just rather them be shown or acted out.
° There is nothing better than whizzing chaotically through the impressive beams underneath The Boardwalk. To get lost in the night with such a thrill that makes your stomach lurch. Yet with each inhibition David pulls out of you only to guide you to throw into the wind, he's allured you further into damnation. You seem to mind such a thing much less now.
° There is a gentleness to the beast that skulks proudly under those garish lights of the Boardwalk. It is reserved solely for you. It does not disappoint as it protects you with vigilance and ensures your needs are met. Just do not thank the beast too profoundly, because it might just get you teased!
° A sucker for your touch, it's no wonder that David has you proudly lounging on his lap in public or in the cave. Sends out a very notifiable signal of, "Back off, she's mine!"
° However, what about the times when you manage to steal him away to far more intimate places, where it's just the two of you? Your bed, although a foreign concept to this roguish fiend who slept under bridges as a mortal, cannot deny deep down the feathery down tempts him. You lay there with him, either lazily making out or talking about many different topics of interest as the TV in the far corner croons on the summer breeze. You have all of his attention, none of his fellow brothers to chime in some hilarious one-liners to add to the chaos. It's just peace.
David cannot help but sigh blissfully, working his lips against your own. Lost at sea. He doesn't want to be found.
° Spontaneous dates of parking your butts on top of an old building or into the corner of an abandoned graveyard whilst you dig into a bottle of wine you stole from your parent's cellar has to be some of David's most favorite low-key dates.
"Look at Miss Goody-Goody stealing for little old me," he grins, admiring the good year on this particular wine bottle. It's a steal he will ensure is worthwhile. "Did you know that stealing is a sin, kitten?" He coos mockingly.
"So is stealing my soul, but you don't hear me complaining." You snicker, stealing the bottle from him. You uncork it and take a swig.
"Touche, kitten, touche." He grins as you hand him the bottle. "Now, you're not planning on curing me, now are you? I'm not a fan of Holy Water."
"If there was a cure for stupid then I'm sure you would be cured by now." You chuckle. "Besides, why would I waste Holy Water on you? You're past the point of saving."
"That I am, but I have to say... I'm going to make you regret everything else you said," he says testily.
"Oh, bite me, Dracula!" You stick your tongue at him.
You really shouldn't tempt him like that.
° Arguments between the pair of you make the air thick with hostility. Though thankfully they don't happen as easily outside of the cases of some broken trust, which isn't very easy to patch together. Like in other areas of his life, David is just as dominant when it comes to arguments. Your feisty attitude you spit back at him is like cobra venom doesn't help. It's cruel and harsh, leaving both hearts wounded and stubbornly locked away in some indestructible castle up a steep mountainside.
° Depending on the burns and wounds left behind, it may take several days for either of you to even look at each other. Avoiding is easier until one of you grows lonely. It takes further time to reconcile, but once it has been initiated, the hatchet is buried (for the most part).
° Don't plan on holding out for the word "sorry" from David. It seems to have escaped his vocabulary almost entirely. It's reserved for extreme circumstances, and even then he may hint at it, but not actually say it. You just need to get used to that. David will show his remorse in many other ways such as private moments stolen away with you where he seemingly allows you to lay in his arms (but he secretly initiated). He will adorn you with thoughtful gifts, words that are sweet by his standards and when he thinks you have fallen asleep, he may let his guard down enough to say, "I'm sorry,".
Just do not hold it over his head!
° You make one another feel on top of the planet. Heads dizzy with a fatal charm that cannot be hidden even to the outside world. David is charismatic and flirtatious as he sweeps you off your feet under the dark silhouette of his damned soul. Yet you are his salvation to the ride down to those fiery pits of damnation! You make him feel alive again, your fresh immortality irresistible as he goes through the new motions with you. Re-experiencing the rush of your first feed, your first flight and even your first kill for the hell of it.
° The pair of you will only get more twisted and wild as the eons drift on by.
° Where once he believed that being tied down to someone would hinder his nightly life that he was more than pleased about, David has come to realise something else: Having someone to share this lifestyle with who gets him even better than his brothers - someone that he can form a genuine romantic attachment to - is far better than the immortal bachelor lifestyle. You have proved yourself useful to him and he can never reward you enough for it.
° It's a good thing that he'll just show you.
° Your connection with David is profound and unmoving as it licks at haunches of dauntless stakes to be dodged - or in the case of David, antlers -. He would have no one else but you swoop in and save him from eternal loneliness as you embark on revenge against The Emerson's until you squash them one by one. What's more poetic than that?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
please like, reblog and follow for more!
requests: open!
#david#david headcanons#david imagines#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys 1987 headcanons#the lost boys 1987 imagines#the lost boys 1987 david#the lost boys 1987 david headcanons#the lost boys 1987 david imagines#the lost boys#the lost boys headcanons#the lost boys imagines#the lost boys david#the lost boys david headcanons#the lost boys david imagines#i hope you enjoyed these!!
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Hi I was jus wondering how do you decide which panel you animate.
Also why did you decided to animate this comic? For practice? Simply because you want it? For revenge?
Also do you have any tipp for starter animaters how to start animating what kind of animations should they start with.
Love the comic can't wait for more. Please be healthy (it's good for your health)
Sending lot of love with hugs (if you like hugs)
by vibe, mostly
This is animated kind of for practice, kind of just because I think is fun and intresting to mix comic and animation, and yeah I guess a bit of revange, if thats the right word on this case cause there was another comic I wanted to do this with and chickened out of it (maybe the correct for of it would be avenge?🤔)
Now let me go into story mode:
When I was starting this au I was just gonna do One's concept design and the one scene that got stuck in my head: him dropping down for his introduction, and that was it
So I thought "I could make this an animatic" and I started storyboarding it on my sketchbook and then went "wait this is too much work, I don't wanna do it.... I'm gonna make it a comic" but there was That Shot that I had in mind and so clearly and I wanted to see it in motion so bad
Animation in comics is something that has gotten stuck in my head for close to a decade, long ago (in a galaxy far far away) I saw these zelda comics by Zac Gorman
I think it was the first time I saw a comic animated, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Then I saw a gifset of the How to Train Your Dragon "Downed Dragon" scene with Hiccup walking on the forest and it was composed as a comic, but they were gifs of the movie, I think that's what settled it in my mind that I would want to tell a story that way at some point
But I didnt know how to animate or make comics
So I started practicing, one step at the time, I decided to start with making comics (I started drawing my httyd fic since it basically was already scripted, but I realized how complicated that was and gave up lmao)
I've used the putting some animation to comics before, in small forms and not that often, really, but I was practicing for that moment when I had a Big Story for me to tell in that medium. Thing I have now and I'm working on!
So I took on httyd comics again and used another au I had to practice long form comics and animation on comics with it. I realized at some point that I was biting more than I could chew and decided to tone it down and keep it to just comic, I would get the oportunity to practice animation-comic making at some other point
And so this au came in taking down my door
I used what I had storyboarded as thumbnails for the comic and decided to make some small bits with simple animation and That Shot fully animated frame by frame (the original idea I could never make it look good so I settled for something simpler, I still want to try and re-do that animation, not to change the comic, but just as a bonus mostly for myself)
So yeah
It's been for pratice when I finally get to do my original story (that I'm working on rn)
Just cause I want to cause it looks cools and I've been mening to do something like this for so long
And I'm avenging that first httyd comic I tried to do and kinda the current httyd comic cause I took out the animation of that one
As for tips for biginer animators?
I should say learn the animation principles since those are your bases, everyone hates doing the bouncing ball cause is boring but is actually a good start.
but honeslty? chose a guy and go nuts with it <- thats my tip of how to improve on anything art related, making fanart of httyd has gotten me this far
#i kinda want to go on a rant about startinf animation and kind of like... setting an animation starter pack#but I feel like thats a post for my artblog#and for later cause im tired and my brain is not working at its full cpacity#genuinly hope that answer kind of helps#i think i went a bit into a tanget there#but oh well#slau misc asks
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Allies or Enemies - two

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest
pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader
Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.
Warnings: nothing
Word count: 3k
series masterlist | one
taglist: @blackbirdwitch22 @alyeskathewave @learisa @screechingfangirlaf @unaxv @oh-gods-its-a-dragon

When one thinks of a binding ceremony, several things are sure to come to mind.
Maybe this is a ceremony similar to a human marriage where the couple declares their intent to love and cherish each other for the rest of their days. Maybe this is a ceremony similar to a knighting where a squire completes the final stage and takes the vow to become a knight. The possibilities are endless to be completely truthful but yet what this particular binding ceremony entails is nothing that I could’ve ever imagined.
Pepper takes great pleasure in telling me every detail of the Dragonborn ceremony as she cinches my corset and stabs sharp pins into my hair, bundling it into the tightest updo that she can manage.
“You are not to speak to the knight unless necessary. Conversation is considered improper amongst their kind. You are not to create any sort of relationship with this knight. A relationship outside that of diplomat and guardian is considered improper.”
She spares no detail as she paints my face in the palest fashions possible and dresses me in a blood red velvet gown. My shoulders are exposed thanks to the heavily beaded neckline that sits across my chest and constricts my movement.
I detect the faintest hint of a smirk as she whispers into my ear that this ceremony will forever bind my soul to that of a Dragonborn knight and the process is usually quite painful for humans.
“You will wear their mark and it will cause you great pain if you leave sight of the knight. They will be able to sense your every emotion so it would do you well to learn how to control your emotions.”
When she draws back to look upon her masterpiece of human terror in the vanity mirror, I see the pleased look upon her narrow face and suppress a shiver. She gives me a thin lipped grimace before spraying me with an awful smelling perfume.
Coughing and fanning away the offending the scent, I demand to know what it is and receive no answer but that grimace.

As if to add insult to injury, the dreadful woman forced me to wear satin slippers in the same hue as my dress. The cold from the winter storm that rages on outside seeps into my bones as she marches me through the palace. It’s started to numb my toes, causing me to stumble over myself and fall to the ground. Pepper spins on her heel to snap at me but something stops her. Her angry green eyes quickly turn to fearful ones as she tears them away from me and fixates on something behind me. She takes a step back from me and straightens her back, quickly assuming the dutiful advisor persona.
A clawed gauntlet appears to my right and offers itself to me.
‘They’re not like us’ begins to play in my head over and over again as I stare at the hand of my newest captor. The owner clears their throat and the chanting in my mind ceases. Stealing a fleeting glance up, I realize that this is not the same knight that I was close to in the battle room only hours earlier. There are no distinguishing differences between the two but something screams to me that this is not him, the one who promised me safety.
“You look beautiful, my lady,” the knight’s hoarse voice rumbles through his helmet as he helps me to my feet. This is not the other one who asked about the ceremony but instead one who had stayed silent.
I force myself to swallow my emotions despite the dam that they’ve created in my throat and mumble a quiet ‘thank you for your kind words’.
The knight lets out a thunderous chuckle that vibrates my body as well as his. “They are the truth, my lady. Kind words are lies told to assuage weak minded individuals and we do not make a habit of lying in Devora.”
“You should address her as your highness, she is not a lady. Regardless we will be late, your highness,” Pepper says in a clipped tone. Her face has grown as red as her hair but the knight pays her no mind and keeps his attention solely on me.
“Thank you…for your honesty then.”
With his helmet in place, I can’t see his face but there is an air around him that tells me that he’s smiling at me. My mind begins to wonder once more and I find myself imagining what it might look like. What might this knight look like beneath his helm of duty and beauty?
“You may leave. I will escort her from here,” he tells Pepper who balks at the suggestion.
“It is improper…” she begins but he cuts her off.
“Leave.”
She looks to me as if I could be the voice of reason and finds no such thing. I tell her as gently as I can that she needs not worry and we will follow shortly. Her sharp eyes cut from my face to our still joined hands and she turned up her nose before finally taking her leave.
The seconds it takes for her to disappear down the hall feel like they span over centuries but once she’s gone, a sigh of relief escapes me.
Another rumbling chuckle comes from the knight. “What a foul woman,” he muses while moving my hand to rest on his arm and starts to walk, “Is she always in such a miserable mood or does she reserve such behavior for guests?”
“I think she reserves it for me but otherwise her mood is always rather miserable. Maybe it’s the lack of sun here in York,” I suggest as I try to not marvel at the feeling of the warm armor beneath my fingers.
“Ah yes the sun. It is quite dark and dismal compared to Devora but I don’t suspect that the lack of sun is the root of her issue,” he almost whispers to me before moving the conversation along. “I do not mean to be rude but are you wearing perfume?”
I look at him quizzically as I nod my head.
“Did you choose it?” He asks as his voice grows tight and he stiffens beside me.
“No, Pepper did, why? Is something the matter with it?”
His body language is stiffer than it was moments ago and he seems to shift agitatedly beside me.
“It’s rose scented,” he states.
“And?”
It takes him a moment to answer but eventually he does, “Dragonborn have exceptional senses of smell but roses are the one scent we can’t handle. It will make us very ill.”
Instinctively I tense beside him and stall us. His clawed gauntlet comes to rest on top of my hand in an act of reassurance.
“But so do not worry though, my lady. I know that it was not you who chose it and it will not hurt any of us for the time being. It’s more of something to keep in mind,” he tells me in a low voice before he continues, “What did she tell you of the ceremony?”
I attempt to apologize but he has none of it and asks his question again. I rely as much as I can remember. At the end of my rambling, the knight laughs whole heartedly and even clutches at his chest.
“Do not fear it, my lady. It’s common amongst our people so I assure you it will be painless and quick. Stéphanos has performed it many times. What pepper has told you is incorrect but it is not my place to tell what your relationship with your guardian will be. I will allow him to answer any questions that you may have.”
“My guardian,” I half say to him and to myself when we begin to walk again, “who is to be my guardian?”
“I cannot say. It’s not my place.”
“What can you tell me?”
“My name. It’s Samuel.”
“And who is Stéphanos?”
“He is our leader.”
“And the other knights?”
I’m met with silence.
‘It appears his long winded speech has found its limits’ I find myself thinking as we continue our stroll towards where I assume the ceremony is. Pepper thought it best that I didn’t know where it would take place so that I couldn’t run away beforehand. I desperately wanted to scream at her that there was nowhere for me to go, not when Dragonborn freely roamed our halls and hid in the ancient trees that surrounded the palace.
Much to my surprise we are nearing the gardens and are met by the other knights. Samuel lets go of my hand and guides me to take the hand of another knight. When he greets me, I recognize him as Stéphanos. He does the same as Samuel; places my hand on the croak of his elbow whilst keeping it there with his own.
“Good evening, Stépahnos or shall I call you Sir Stéphanos? I fear I do not know your people’s customs in regards to formality.”
“Stéphanos is just fine, my lady but if you wish to tutored in our ways then Natasha,” he tells me as he presents me to the one knight that I have yet to meet, “will do they. She has agreed to tutor you in any way that you desire. She will also be your guardian should anything happen to the other.”
The female knight bows her head in respect but otherwise stays silent. I go to ask him about the final knight, the one who promised me safety only hours ago, when a shrill voice calls out my name. Satin slippers slap the stone beneath our feet as my mother races towards us.
“Oh my dear child!” She nearly shrieks and comes to a halt as soon as she spots the knights who now surround me. Her sorrowful eyes make a sharp path from my face to where my hand rests on Stéphanos’ elbow. “My dear I had wished to speak with you before but I was…otherwise engaged. May I see you for just a moment?”
“Perhaps after the ceremony, your highness,” Stéphanos interjects before I can.
Her face scrunches in annoyance, “I believe I was speaking to my daughter, not you.”
“And I believe that the ceremony is about to begin. Your conversation can wait until it is finished,” the unnamed knight, my guardian to be, speaks up for the first time. His voice ricochets through the room like thunder through a forest, shaking the leaves of dust and cobwebs of the palace. His presence is even more powerful than his three comrades combined as he steps to the other side of me. His clawed gauntlets find their place on his onyx long sword, a silent display of dominance and bravery towards the queen.
Stéphanos mutters something in Draconic to himself. While I know that the strange words that fall from his tongue are in his native language, I do not understand it. During my father’s reign I learned to recognize the language through passing conversations but I was forbad from learning it. Draconic is an ancient language that is sacred to them; anyone who’s not a Dragonborn and is caught speaking it, is sentenced to death immediately.
My mother gasps at the knight, clearly offended that he would dare to speak to her in such a manner. Normally I would’ve expected her to lecture him and demand that the guards remove him from her sight but something tells me she won’t. Whether it be because there are no York guards present or the knight’s bold actions, she makes a displeased expression and huffs instead.
“Very well. I shall find you before you retire for the night,” she tells me in a cutting note as she skirts around us towards the garden doors.
Once she’s gone and the doors have closed, the knight turns to Stéphanos and says himself to him in Draconic before signaling to Samuel and Natasha. The three nod to their leader and follow after my mother.
“Ready, my lady?” Stéphanos asks me when we’re alone.
‘No I’m not’ I think to myself but I have to be. I have to be ready for this.
So I give him a polite smile and tell him that I am.

A dull knife is often more dangerous than a sharp knife because you do not expect it to hurt you. You are lulled into a false sense of safety by the blunt edges and do not take the proper precautions to keep yourself safe.
The knife that Stephanos is holding gleams in the moonlight as he stands over the knight and I, quietly chanting a Draconic prayer. Our scenery is reflected in the metal blade, painting a rather grim affair; a broody knight being bound by duty to a forsaken princess in a nation that is weak and desperate. Between the reflections of us, I can see that the blade has been sharpened to the thinnest edge possible. A part of me is grateful for this as it slices through my flesh and blood beads from my palm without the faintest hint of pain. I do not feel the usual sting until well after the cut has been made and droplets of my blood have been poured over a small pale white stone ring.
When the sting does race through my nerve endings and communicate with my mind that I’m in pain, the stone has absorbed my blood and allowed itself to become a marbled mess of sanguine white.
When the hiss that follows my pain finally slips past my lips, I’ve been instructed to close my eyes so that my knight can don his ring. Once again too distracted by everything around me, I fail to do as I am told in time and catch a glimpse of lustrous white scales that I was not meant to see.
When I’m told to open my eyes, my hand is clutched to my chest and those scales are nowhere to be seen. In their place is a black clawed gauntlet with a necklace dangling from it. Stephanos mutters more Draconic over the necklace before instructing a servant to take it and place it around my neck. Even without doing it himself, a rush of heat unlike I’ve ever felt before overcomes me when the necklace takes its place against my sternum. One brief glance at it tells me that it’s the twin to the knight’s ring; a pendant of a white and red stone set in a delicate silver frame. Stephanos continues in Draconic and I continue to stare but this time at the knight’s hand where I had seen such familiar white scales.
“Are you alright?” I hear through deaded ears. The dryness in my eyes tells me that I’ve been staring for too long and I attempt to blink it away without success. Stephanos’ head is bent towards me as if he were trying to get on my level but no matter how low he might bend, it still would not matter with how tall the horns on his helmet are.
My brows pinch together in confusion while I try to piece together what’s happening. My mother’s soft cries and Anthony’s false reassurances do not reach my ears nor do the hushed conversations of Samuel and Natasha. The night’s song of gentle wind gusts and songful owls passes me by as do the creaking of ancient trees and vexing toads. All that I hear is the sound of my own blood pounding and my breath hitching as the world rushes past me. All I feel is that burning heat from my sternum racing through every vein and into every cell in my body.
All I feel is him.

What’s more cruel than being forced to endure a confining and uncomfortable form is doing it while listening to the ear splitting shrieks of humans. All around me humans are screaming and panicking as if the princess has suddenly and tragically died. With her motionless body cradled in my arms, I can hear her heartbeat as it pounds in time to my own but neither the queen or her cowardly husband are willing to listen to me. Somewhere behind me Natahsha and Samuel are keeping the weeping royals contained while Stephanos kneels before me.
“Tell me.”
“Her body wasn’t strong enough to handle the binding but she will be fine. Her heartbeat is steady and her breathing is returning to normal. She will need rest,” I state before being interrupted by my own intrepid thinking. Between my focus on the ceremony and maintaining my human form, I hadn’t noticed the utterly repugnant smell of roses. My body wishes to throw the princess and put as much distance between her and I as possible but I cannot. The most infuriating part is that I would’ve been able to only minutes ago for it’s the ring that I now wear that refuses to let me do so. The twin stones will not allow me to put her in harm’s way nor will they let her do the same to me. They will keep us close to each other whether we want that or not in order to maintain both of our safety.
Stephanos whispers my name, snapping my attention back to him. “I suspect we will need to leave for Devora sooner than planned. Can she travel?”
His words are followed by the sound of a hysterical queen demanding our heads for harming her daughter and several ill equipped guards coming to her aid.
“She might not have another choice.”
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#dragon x reader#dragon bucky x reader#dragon x human#dragon au#dragon Bucky imagine#allies or enemies bucky x reader
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intro post! ✮
last updated = june 6, 2025
✦ - about me = my name is Nathaniël / Nathaniel but you can call me Nate. I'm trans ftm and demiromantic/panromantic. he/him. I love a lot of bands but my all time favorites are Green Day (hyperfixating on them so bad rn), the White Stripes (or literally any band Jack White has been in) and Imagine Dragons (I've loved them since I was like 10 😭 I can't unlove them). I also have a really bad Nevermoor hyperfixation. if you're a fan of the series too PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME. I like drawing, reading, making bracelets, collecting CDs, and learning languages :D
✦ - current hyperfixations = Green Day, Nevermoor, Jack White III, idwtbamg, My Chemical Romance, STOMACH BOOK, femtanyl, Imagine Dragons, NOAHFINNCE
✦ - favorite bands / artists = Green Day (+ all their sideprojects), Jack White III (+ every single band he's been in. from the Upholsterers to Two Star Tabernacle and from the White Stripes to the Dead Weather), Imagine Dragons, Dan Reynolds, Daniel Platzman, the Fratellis, YUNGBLUD, Nico Vega, NOAHFINNCE, Free Refills, VCR, Dead Kennedys, Gorillaz, Mother Mother, My Chemical Romance, Gerard Way, Elvis Presley, Left Alone, Otoboke Beaver, Ramones, the Kills, Cock Sparrer, Madilyn Mei, Dwaun, Operation Ivy, Minor Threat, Go Betty Go, Goblin Daycare, Trash Fashion, STOMACH BOOK, femtanyl and probably a lot more :D



✦ - favorite music genres = egg punk (I love egg punk so much), punk rock, synth punk, ska punk, really any kind of punk music, garage rock, blues rock, rockabilly, rock-n-roll, power pop, and even a little bit of folk and country
✦ - I like guitars. I love playing guitar. I can't even explain how much I love guitars. I think about guitars a lot. guitarists are so talented. did you know I like guitars? (this sounds stupid, ik, but genuinely. I love guitars.)



✦ - favorite movies / series / youtubers = Night at the Museum, Rat Race, Herby Fully Loaded, Young Sheldon, xokobee, the Click, kallmekris, Stevie T, NOAHFINNCE, Jammidodger, OneTopic
✦ - links = straw.page || spotify || pinterest || last.fm || pronouns.page || and I don't how to link my discord acc but it's 'iiiidiotnathanieliii' :D
✦ - askbox and dms are always open!! also, feel free to tag me in tag games. I love doing tag games :3
✦ - no homophobes, transphobes, queerphobes, sexists, racists, misogynists, ableists, TERFs, nazis, trump supporters, fascists and just assholes in general ‼️
✦ - tags!!
#me / #oop = literally me. things I relate to or describe me in some kind of way
#live from my brain = me talking about random stuff
#my art ✮˚.⋆ = speaks for itself. I don't usually post a lot of my art though. I'm gonna try to post it more often
other tags speak for themselves :D
I saw a lot of people do this so I'm doing it too =
✦ - AWESOME MOOTS AND FRIENDS ‼️ GIVE THEM A FOLLOW. THEY DESERVE IT.
@3cheers4venom @bunnyinakangolhat @touch3d-by-ang3ls @zeroxthedumbassgaybastard @pirulated @thestupidestseagull @nico-967 @hawthorne-swift-enthusiasttt @nevermoorfan6789 @mychemicalplatonicrelationship @cococomiskry32 @leoluvsbilkyjo @hummussock @professional-gru @foggyeyezz + a lot more moots <3
and one of my irl best friends @elijmoe !!
I also have a Green Day ecosystem blog @21stcenturyecosystem !!
I'll update this is if I get a new idea or if I get a new hyperfixation lol
have a nice day!! :D
dividers || femtanyl blinkies || saviors blinkie
#intro post#pinned post#my art ✮˚.⋆#<- I keep this tag here so I can easily copy paste it when I post art :)#Spotify
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After finally introducing Ni'onthe's crew one by one, let me finally formally introduce you to Blauauge (=“blue eye”) who's giving me brainrot for over a year now💙⚓
Blauauge is a tiefling barbarian and the third mate of the Soft Seaside, the ship that Ni'onthe sailed with for two years prior to the main campaign. I created him and the whole crew way back in 2021 when I wrote Ni’onthe’s backstory (more about Ni'onthe's crew here).
I’ve always planned for him to be my back-up character, should she ever die (that hopefully never happens lol). For now, he is a NPC in my mini-campaign called "Stille und Sturm" (which is just my modified self-indulgent version of "Dragons of Stormwreck Isle"). There, the party travels with the Ni'onthe's crew to solve problems on her home island
He seems like an angry, tough guy on the outside who gets irritated very quickly and often fights in taverns, but on the inside, he is a really insecure and overcompensates a lot. He's just a good and soft boy who genuinely cares about his loved ones but has problems showing and receiving affection 👀 (A lot of my fave characters are angry tsundere b*tch boys who are actually super soft and insecure and he is no exception, he is a big tsundere 💙) He is extremely loyal towards his captain and crew and takes his duties very seriously. He and Ni’onthe were really good friends.
(old art from 2021)
Blauauge likes drinking and fishing, he swears a lot and is liked by animals. He hates nobility and rich people. He believes that a good brawl is the best way to get to know a new city and become closer with someone. His choice of weapons are his fists and an anchor.
His name “Blauauge” which translates to “blue eye” is a german pun because he often has a black eye because of all the tavern brawls (black eye also translates into “blue eye” in german). But it's also a reference to his very bright blue eyes.
Sailor tattoos with actual meaning:
dagger with a rose (loyality and willing to fight everything, even something as sweet as a rose
“HOLD FAST” (for a good grip for rigging)
compass rose (always finding your way home)
Other tattoos:
waves
his crew’s slogan and flag
anchor (his character themes are anchors and storms)
I...eeeeeeeeh...like him a total normal amount so stay tuned for LOOOTS of art of him 💙
Old designs, some backstory lore drop and context for his role as NPC under the cut
(I changed his design quite a lot so please keep in mind when I post some of my older art! Also, I still have a lot to learn about drawing trans anatomy so if you see anything depicted wrong in my newer art, please dm me so I can learn!)
Old Design and Concept
As a big ass Fire Emblem Fan, I really liked the idea of a duo of two color-coded ship officers who are the complete opposite of each other, just like the iconic red-green knight-duos in FE.
Since sailors in media often have unique nicknames that are related to them, I also wanted to give them funny names that are very similar to each other to to immediately tell that they belong together. And that's how Blauauge (german for "blue eye") and Rotauge (german for "red eye") came to be!
Rotauge and Blauauge are complete opposites but get along very well…veeeeeery well 👀 Rotauge is a safe space for Blauauge where he can calm down and Rotauge likes Blauauge's company a lot.
Blauauge's design changed quite a bit since 2024 (2021, 2023, early 2024)

I still like the old design a lot, especially I already received so much art for it already and the yellow top scars were kinda iconic LMAO But I always felt like his old design didn’t show off his sailor background enough.
FUN FACT: “Blauauge” is the german term for blue-eyes, a specific kind of fishes with very bright blue eyes! I didn’t know about them when I created him, so after finishing his design, I was REALLY surprised to learn about them and coincidentally used a similar color palette sdlfkjsdlfkj
Backstory
Blauauge was born and raised on the streets of Neverwinter until Captain Sheryl took him to SoftSeaside at the age of 10. Sheryl noticed him because of his striking blue eyes and his defiant nature. When they met, he had a black eye (in german = blue eye) and gave him the nickname "Blauauge" ("blue eye" in german), which he eventually chose as his own when he transitioned. On the ship he learned to read, write and live the life of the sea. Before she took him in, he barely spoke and tried to survive by making a living by participating in underground fights. As a tiefling, he experienced a lot of racism (especially by nobility and rich people) when he was younger and even though, society changed a lot since the scars still remain. He's also feeling very disconnected to his heritage since he didn't have any contact with other tieflings. (because in this household we project our trauma on our OCs ✨)
Blauauge has been sailing on the ship for 16 years since he was 10 years old and with passing years, more people joined the crew permanently. He will never admit it but he loves them all very dearly and would do anything to protect them. Blauauge became the third mate of the ship, a role he holds with a lot of pride and he takes his duties very seriously. (While he was trying to survive on the streets, he really didn't have the headspace to think about gender (lmao) but after being adopted, he finally had a safe space to figure stuff out and his crew was really supportive during his transition for which he is extremely thankful for.)
And then, one day, a optimistic fish-looking goofball called Ni'onthe joined the crew, hehe ✨ In the beginning, he found her pretty annoying but her positive personality was really refreshing and he saw a lot of similarities (blue and yellow, trans, athelete, soft and caring) Since he is four years older than her, Ni'onthe kinda became a little sister for them. He and Ni’onthe were really good friends and was protective other her, taking her out for meals, showing her how to sail and checking on her (she really missed her parents in the beginning).

And even though, they had a lot of fun and a great time, Ni'onthe decided to leave to gain more experience and awaken her Ki. Blauauge was ✨ distraught ✨ by that and he really misses her a lot. This really got him thinking and since then, even though he loves his crew, he craves for adventures and wonders if he isn't missing something if he stays on the ship…But he is also scared to leave his loved ones behind, scared that he will not return or worse…to return and realize that he doesn't belong anymore.
Right now, he is an NPC in the mini-campaign that I'm dming right now (It's a modified self-indulgent OC version of StormWreck Isle, lol).
Quick campaign summary
As for now, during my campaign, while the party is solving the problems on the island, Blauauge does through his own fucking character arc while helping out in the village. Loyalty towards his crew and fear of leaving his home vs. the call for adventures and being very jealous that the party is fighting some monsters LMAO
However, Blauauge is currently being falsely accused of theft and banned from the temple because the party's rogue Nería (played by @/allbutnotthis) broke into the room of the grand master of the Order of Eldath to find a item. However, she got caught by Blauauge before she was able to lock the door. She gatekept, gaslighted, girlbossed her way out of this situation by using his weaknesses (aka his loyalty and softness towards his crew) against him. Blauauge believed her and promised to not snitch on her because she helped to save the ship from sinking earlier in the campaign. However, because Nería is such a good liar and Blauauge is a really bad liar, the grand master believes that Blauauge attempted to steal something and banned him from the temple temporarely until he is proven innocent or proves that he is trustworthy after all.
Let's see how this turns out LMAO
#blauauge#stille und sturm campaign#dnd#dungeons and dragons#dnd 5e#dnd art#dungeons and dragons art#dnd character#dnd character art#dnd artist#tabletop rpg#ttrpg#my art#softseaside art#own art#digital art#dnd storm herald#storm herald#dnd barbarian#barbarian#dnd sailor#tiefling#dnd tiefling#dnd npc#my dnd character#my dnd campaign#my ocs#dnd character design#character design#character art
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i love your fox girls please tell me about your fox girls
I have found some time to let me ramble into this box for an hour LETS GO...
First of all thank you I also love my fox girls. I also assume you are probably the same person sending me misc asks about foxgirls regularly which I keep them because I like them so don't be discouraged that I don't answer them all the time lol
I can go on for a long time so I'll just keep things about Tetra today...
This is Tetra.
This is also Tetra.
They are the same character but I have implemented her into two universes. She was originally made for my GURPS (ttrpg) game and then I adapted her into my own headworld setting; Vanus. She is very slightly different between the two settings, but overall it is the same character and the way I draw her just determines the setting i'm drawing for at the moment. I tend to talk about both of these versions of her randomly but for the sake of things being entirely my own writing and not things from the TTRPG I play her in.
I'll be mostly talking about Vanus Tetra today. (So the one on the right)
Tetra is a sarcastic socially awkward alchemist who likes to test new reagents and concoctions by putting them in her mouth and immediately getting sick. She is a laid back, mostly carefree weirdo. She is very interested in making medicines for people, however she also has a blatant fascination with poisons to the point where her continued taste testing has given her a poison resistance. Her ears are floppy because she has overly sensitive hearing. She likes harmless pranks. She is so aroace she does not understand innuendos nor any kind of flirting to the point of confusion. The list goes on.
Tetra was born to a ~rather important~ sorceress and her bodyguard. What exactly the important thing they are doing remains unknown, but for REASONS they had to leave her in the care of her mother's old friend/other bodyguard, Terasu, when she was PRETTY young Probably around 8-10 or so.
Terasu basically raised her for a few years, lending a lot to Tetra's snarky and mischievous personality and the way she presents herself. However Terasu was chronically ill and was very good at hiding it. When her illness suddenly took a turn for the worse she sought the help of an old dragon alchemist that lived in the depths of a dark fungal jungle. He did his best to help, however Terasu ended up succumbing to her illness, leaving a still very young Tetra with this rather eccentric dragon they had both dubbed "Grampa" when she was about 12.
Grampa took her in and taught her alchemy due to her unyielding persistence in wanting him to teach her. She fixated on the craft, believing that if she had known sooner she could have done anything to prevent her caretaker's death, and wanted to do all she could to help others in the future.
She took to the craft incredibly quickly and her skill grew just as fast. She easily adjusted to her life in the fungal woods and grew very attached to Grampa, treating him like a father figure. Before either of them knew it, she had been there studying alchemy for a good 15 years... However Grampa when she started living there was already very old, even for being an older-lived species, and when he passed, it basically broke her. First her parents vanished, then her caretaker died from illness, now she had lost Grampa too. She had already developed a separation anxiety at this point and this amplified it to the point where, despite burying him herself, she was still regularly talking to Grampa, acting like none of it had happened, like he was still there.
Due to her psychosis, "Grampa's" guidance caused her to set off from home truly for the first time. To gather new reagents for alchemy, to hone the skill more and to potentially meet new people. Maybe figure out what the hell happened to her parents, because she is definitely mad about that. She is an odd animal trying to learn how to process grief and discover a found family. She is sad but she stays silly to the point where it's not something you would notice unless you spent a lot of time with her since she is too busy generally being a weird goofball to let others in the know of her own problems.
#my art#puppy poops#Tetra#kemonomimi#kitsunemimi#foxgirl#Oc#sorry no read more you have to look at her#I can ramble more about other foxgirls later but this is the main one I have the most development for nowadays
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Updated intro post :)
Hello, I'm Nico (it/its/they/them). I'm Brazilian and my first language is Brazilian Portuguese; I learned English mostly by myself and I can speak it and understand it just fine ^^. I'm 21 years old and I'm also queer and neurodivergent in multiple ways ehxkwnjs
This blog is mostly dedicated to my art :) I mostly draw "Adventure Time"/"Fionna & Cake" but that could change if I get hyperfixated on something else (I don't choose the hyperfixation, my unconscious choses it for me :p). Some other media I like:
- "Steven Universe"
- "The Owl House"
- "Avatar" (ATLA and LOK; I've also read most of the comics and the Kyoshi novels)
- "Bee & Puppycat"
- "Dead End: Paranormal Park"
- "A Kind Of Spark"
- "Dungeon Meshi" (anime and manga)
- "Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba" (manga and anime but mostly I just like Nezuko)
I have a side blog that I mostly use to reblog stuff (@nico-saurus). I'm also on instagram and ao3 under the same user as here and on bluesky under @cartoon-nico.bsky.social.
Feel free to dm or send asks if you want to chat! As long as you're nice I'd love to make friends ^^
I accept drawing requests as long as they're under the guidelines I've put in place. I'm also open to art trades!
I'm also a crocheter and I take commissions for amigurumi patterns! I really want to be able to take commissions for the actual dolls as well but I still don't know how international shipping works (however, if you're also Brazilian I can totally mail them to you!).
I'm not a fan of DNI's but I will not talk to you in private if you're a lot younger than me or if you're not a mutual and you're replying to personal posts (I don't make a lot of those but I occasionally vent in here). I will block you if you're intentionally hateful or if you try to start pointelss arguments (fandoms are supposed to be fun, it's not that serious).
I have an AT au that I'm always working on (sometimes I take breaks from it but I always come back), which is the "Dragon Bonnie AU"; the premise of this au is that Princess Bubblegum was supposed to be a candy dragon just like Neddy, but she hides her true form from everyone until she can't do it anymore. It's also on ao3 but not complete yet. I also have some more au's that I intend to expand whenever the inspiration hits snxkanz (they'll all be tagged in this post ^^).
Please, do not repost my art. However, if you like my au's and want to take inspiration from them that's totally fine (most of the ideas aren't 100% mine anyway sbxjabsj). If you want to know more about them I'll gladly talk about them with you as well and answer questions if you have any!
#my au#dragon bonnie au#marceline the ice queen au#post apocalypse au#not so tragic au#amigurumi#begginer artist#queer artist#disabled artist#neurodivergent artist#fiber artist#digital artist#fanartist#artists on tumblr#crocheters on tumblr#crocheter
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Original post from my patreon post; Read free!
Hi Everyone! It's me, atlast. Today I want to talk about some complicated stuffs.
I just moved to my newly, and not finished, built house for about three weeks now. Things are still moving in places but my budget are running low as well.
So, my immediate goal right now is to secure some fundings to be able to clear my statement that had been used on buying things around the house.
I want to take this opportunity for whoever is out there that are willing to support this little artist that has to take care of himself and his family (also his cat). So I can dedicate my time to fully work on the creative stuffs and not worry about the debt that has been creeping towards me every week.
More details in each posts.
I will link the support channels that you can use to help me below.
Thank you for your supports, truly. I'm really grateful for you guys!
See you around, you beautiful people!
atlastseason, the green dragon from page @greendragonbluecat
This is all my monthly bills and spendings I need to fulfill, for myself and my family. My house isn't finish yet, just livable inside but the outside are still a construction site with no fences and no kitchen as well. I need to save some more to be able to afford them all but for now it's still work in progress, I guess. I try to remove some extra spending but still not enough. I'm still worried whether I could afford a commute and upcoming hospital bill. I could use some loan but it's not a good place to rely on.
These channels are my main focus for work.
Patreon
For posting all my works, arts, animation, learning, anything that's related, with no watermarks, some behind the scene and thought process about that piece for fully experiences and getting the whole picture of my work. I'm holding a monthly activity for my member so if you're interested, join me and be a part of my green army!
Starting 3 USD a month. https://patreon.com/atlastseason
Twitch
Live on Tuesday and Thursday, 20:30 UTC+7. I'm trying to be on schedule so you can reliably find me when you're free. I mainly speaking Thai there but I could do English as well if there's more international audiences. I first started with daily drawings, some events or fanart of something then I talk about my experiences on my life with art and creative work that I've gone through. I'm doing some emotes and stickers so if you want to be able to use them, consider subscribe to my twitch Channel to be able to use it, when it's fully finish!
Commission
Starting at 45 USD. You can get a nicely, clean drawing for a single character. You can read more about it here on my website! https://blog.atlastseason.art/blog/2025/february-commission/
Like, Share and Follow
I know this is kind of a stigma to be said but it can help me in the long run! In this world of algorithm and engagement farming, my little art account can't keep up with that if there's no traffic around them on those platforms and I totally get it and I don't blame them on how they operated. I'm trying to be authentic and true to my goal of becoming an artist that is truly love to do his own craft with his audience waiting for him. Money is not the first things I'm after but it's needed for me to be able to live normally. So I'm just trying to reach out to those who truly want to see me thrive and grow as an artist. Please make sure to spread around and hopefully, they can find me in this vast sea of all the world wide web.
Discord
I also have a Discord Server for all the enthusiastic friends that love to talk with art related or just something else, like gaming or music or FURRY (Especially Furry :3)
So, you're all invited! https://discord.gg/adZMQ4uDKu
I have been thinking about this subject for sometimes but can't find the right word to say. I've stumbled upon this article that might convey what I'm trying to say.
In 1872, George Sand, a French novelist, wrote that the artist has a “duty to find an adequate expression to convey it to as many souls as possible.” To put it more succinctly, art needs an audience.
Quote from Jeff Goins on his website https://goinswriter.com/art-audience/
Hope you have a fantastic day.
See you around!
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