#falls in love with my own oc

[dusadoodles]

stinky stinky man 😍

[puppyeared]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[all-lars-bars]

Okay, so, I was looking through the transcript of Hana & GF Fan's interview with Alex Hirsch for the Shermie question (because I am weirdly interested in him) and what I'm getting is his purpose is basically just to make the Pines Family Tree make sense in context of the characters and is the baby seen in "A Tale of Two Stans"

That being said, in my mind Shermie is their older sibling, that baby is Shermie's son (or a secret fourth sibling), and she is a trans woman with a lovely wife

[sylawen]

The amazing @lilithkb did this absolutely beautiful commission of Sylawen & Astarion and I'm still not over it 😭💖 I'm so in love with both of them sbdfjhdjhflkh they're SO GORGEOUS. Thank you again Lilith!! 💖

[enigmatic-enigmas]

THE MASOCHISM TANGO!

[otaku553]

Marx concept doodles part 2 electric boogaloo

I enjoy the cape but im still not sure how to handle coloring it without overwhelming everything else

Also long hair updo ideas :)

[call-me-cosmic]

Boo! 🎃

[rattini]

[mediterraneanmenace]

The Devils You Know (or sum)

Cooking something spicy for my Twitter.

For those wondering: Raphael *hates* how easily Raksha can pull his strings both physically and mentally.

TL;DR - He's not living being in love well. :,)

My 18+ BG3 Twitter --> [Here]

[imogenkol]

— WIP WHENEVER

tagged by @cassietrn and @socially-awkward-skeleton thank you lovelies! 💕

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut

My brain has been mostly fried the past couple weeks, but I managed to play Phantom Liberty and really enjoyed it so Vaune is getting more attention from me finally (major spoilers for the DLC!)

The shadows casted from the low light of the monitor in the back of the van only accentuated how gaunt So Mi’s features had become as she slumped wearily against the front seat. She looked ghoulish — like just another ghost that took up space in Vaune’s already crowded head. She swallowed a lump in her throat, gripped by mounting fear that the netrunner wouldn’t make it down the block, much less all the way to the spaceport and into a shuttle. The merc quickly ran through all of her options when So Mi shuddered. 

“V?” 

Vaune placed a steady hand on her knee. “Yeah?”

“I don’t wanna die,” she whimpered with a fear so deep it sounded more akin to sorrow. Even with the booster, So Mi started to fade. Her next plea came out slow and slurred. “Can’t help but regret… I just… Help me.” 

At the back of Vaune’s mind, she had the thought that those words may just be the most genuine ones So Mi has said to her thus far.

And then it clicked. 

One and only one, So Mi had said.

Vaune didn’t know exactly how yet, but she suddenly became struck with the certainty that there was no cure. Not for her, at least. After Reed’s warnings, So Mi’s insistence, the desperation of someone who had nothing left to lose at death’s door, it became crystal clear in Vaune’s mind. 

She had been played by them all in one way or another. Myers, Reed, now So Mi. She had to be Night City’s biggest fucking fool. What a goddamn mess. 

“Fuck, V,” Johnny’s voice echoed in her mind as he flickered into existence in the passenger seat. Vaune didn’t need to see his expression to know how conflicted he felt about the situation — she was at a loss, herself. “What are you gonna do?”

The merc couldn’t say she felt surprised. A huge part of her had been waiting for the other shoe to drop this entire time. Dead end after dead end after dead end. Why would this be any different? She should be angry with So Mi. She should call Reed and end this whole thing right here and now. 

But Vaune looked at this terrified young woman who had lost everything, dying in the back of a van from corrupted tech, and saw nothing but a mirror. Vaune couldn’t bring herself to hate her. And she certainly couldn’t bring herself to completely abandon her, not this late in the game. Vaune had been hired to do a job. She was going to follow through. 

Someone should get to live. 

She reached out, gently took So Mi’s face in her hands and told her what she desperately longs to hear herself from the lips of someone who actually means it. “You’re not gonna die.”

So Mi weakly leaned into her touch, but her features twisted in more hopeless agony. “You’re a good person, V,” she said with obvious regret. 

Vaune gritted her teeth as her face fell. All of the people she’s unintentionally gotten killed or hurt would probably beg to differ. In all likelihood, it’ll end the exact same for So Mi, too. It always seemed to go that way whenever she tried to do the right thing. 

“Hang tight,” Vaune said, giving her shoulder an encouraging pat. She pulled away and climbed into the driver’s seat, ignoring the apparition’s hard stare beside her. “I’m gonna get you where you need to go.”

[v-arbellanaris]

things abt kal which are not canon to tabris (as an origin) which i just love abt her:

polyamory <3 she literally has one type of man and she found 3 of them

loghain's narrative foil in every way - her character, narrative beats and plots have always ended up as a foil to his, both intentionally and unintentionally (in which case, the unintended bits were then refined to intentional bits)

desi elves <3333 if your preferred media doesnt have representation built in, self-made is fine

deadliest thing in the room <3 debuffs and buffs from poisons and grenades and bard spec and swift salves and high constitution and high magic resistance my beloved <3

her father's daughter,,, and her mother's son

my decision to make adaia dalish, when popular fanon at the time usually hc her as a night elf

her perplexing fighting style bc adaia (because she's dalish) was teaching kal, the way adaia was taught, vir tanadhal - and all the adjustments, because of the conditions in the alienage, that make her fighting style odd to dalish elves too

kal believing in the creators rather than the maker, but is more culturally andrastian

essentially, all the narratives around living as a diaspora, and how kal is both fully fereldan and elven, and yet is not perceived to be enough of either of these identities; consistently on the outside

[hindingfromtheworld]

I made a cod oc and I’m fucking embarrassed about it but I love her so much.

And fuckin’ yeah. I threw her in a mask too. Sue me, they look cool.

(Don’t actually, I’m like barely holding it together at this point, I’ll fold like a house of cards.)

Struggle to draw guns, but too lazy to open references.

She has Lore. Too much, infact.

[oneluckydragon]

GODDDDDD.. I SAW THE TAGS THAT YOU LEFT ON MY POSTS AND I AGREE WITH YOU SO MUCH.

Erida and Echo are such an interesting duo and honestly I can see Erida having even bigger of a struggle in trying to approach Echo first. Mainly because she's most definitely aware that her behavior and mannerisms resemble too much of Dusknoir's and if she were to ever find out about what the guy did to Echo and Sora.. yeah she'll be extremely careful when approaching out of fear to not set off any alarms (because it's already enough that someone she resembles who was nice turned out to be evil, what's stopping her from just ending up like him?). But once she regains her memories of her past life and finds out about Echo's origins as well? she'll be so worried for her. even when they both hailed from different worlds and acted differently, Erida will at least try to comfort Echo in her eternal self-struggle with her past, be it by trying to comfort her or at least be the shoulder she has to lay on when things get rough emotionally. She won't try to be pushy about it but she'll let Echo know that she isn't alone in her struggles and that Erida is just one call away if she ever needs her.

AND GAIA AND SORA.. don't even get me started.

I think what truly separates between Gaia and Erida and their backstories is that whereas Erida had her memories screwed over twice and didn't find out about who she was until later on, Gaia was aware of who she was/is on day 1. From the moment she landed on the Grass Continent, she knew what she was and what she hailed from, but masked her feelings about it and just saw everything that had happened as a second chance for a better life. And while she would absolutely love Sora just as much, her aura sensing abilities would scare Gaia a bit because a part of her tells her that the whole reason people treated her a bit nasty is because parts of her past life and soul just flared like an aura that set them off and told them exactly what they had to know about her, even if shes redeemed. but for Sora to know all of that and tolerate Gaia, and even go as far as ENJOYING her company??? that little claydol would cry tears of joy (if she had tear ducts, that is.). Just the idea of having a friend and someone who wants her around besides Erida is so foriegn to her that she might even doubt a bit and think that her chain is getting yanked. but once she knows it's legit, you bet that she'll levitate all happily around and be just as happy as Sora is.

they all mean so much to me... (sorry if i rambled too hard in your askbox... your girlies have taken a part in my head as well so the feeling is mutual.)

s1nn0hh OH MY GOD. I love your girlies. I love them SO much. The fact I wrote out all those tags and spammed you so much and you STILL took the time to respond with this!! I am unwell!!!

Erida being the one to struggle even more than Echo in the first stages of their friendship messes me up (Erida being so kind and patient and gentle because she's working on her own self-image and perception and AUGH I love her).

Echo is pretty bold so I can definitely see her warming up to Erida first despite the fact that Erida resembling Dusknoir so much brings back some harsh memories. But Echo could care less though. Erida is not Dusknoir and so she has nothing to do with those unfortunate experiences. And the idea of these two girlies being friends and UNDERSTANDING each other makes me unhinged. And Echo is so ferocious when it comes to protecting those she cares about (she will NOT lose another friend, she'll use her abilities to shelter the ones she loves) so if anyone even LOOKED at Erida cross-eyed once they're friends Echo would tear them apart.

(I am now thinking of a cute idea that when Echo and Erida laugh or feel happy together their gold rings glow in sync and light up and it's the most adorable thing I've ever considered in my entire life). They're like... nightlight besties. I love that for them.

And Gaia and Sora! I talked about this already but you agreeing that Gaia would adore Sora too once she realized that Sora genuinely likes her and enjoys having her around is!!! THE BEST!!! THING!!!

Sora would be so enamored with Gaia I am TELLING you. She is the type to write out letters to friends just to update them on even the most menial, but sweet things. Like flowers she saw that day which reminded her of Gaia's coloring. Or good food that she had and it made her think of happy memories w/ her friends. Or something like, "Gaia! Today, Echo and I visited Shaymin Peak. While climbing I picked up a little trinket called a Sky Gift and the Shaymin tell me that it's an item meant to be shared with those you care deeply about, otherwise the item inside will cease to exist when opened. Of course I thought of you! I hope it ends up being something worthwhile. Write to me soon!" (and the item ends up being a friend bow!!)

I'm sorry I'm just emotional over the idea of Gaia doubting Sora's friendship with her (because surely Sora /knows/ something is wrong with her, she can sense aura and thus Sora should fear her) but then a SKY GIFT manifests an item symbolizing their bond w/ each other and it's a FRIEND BOW. If that isn't the most literal "Sora adores you" moment in the world, then I don't know what else is.

To sum it up, Sora loves with her entire heart and she'd make no exceptions for Gaia. I want them to hang out all the time. I will not take criticism. c:

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

And now for your TESblr-ing pleasure, another LDB crackship, but this time it's Galmar who gets to play "Will they, won't they?" with Leara

This did not put my bestie to sleep. But it did make her laugh, I think.

ao3 | masterlist

The peace council is over before Galmar realizes that the Dragonborn manipulated them all into nonaction without any secessions of territory or pride to the other side. If he wasn't relieved that the Stormcloaks would maintain the whole of Eastern Skyrim without sacrificing their honor to the Imperials, Galmar would feel the loss of Markarth silver more keenly.

Nothing that the war wouldn't soon win the Stormcloaks.

As the Stormcloaks prepared to leave High Hrothgar, Galmar catches sight of dark red hair disappearing through the doors to the courtyard from the corner of his eye.

"Where is she going?"

Beside him, Ulfric's mouth falls into a grim line, but if he knows, he doesn't say.

As they make their descent from the monastery, Galmar seeks Ralof. It is night on the Seven Thousand Steps: Despite the cold and blistering winds, they keep watch. The Imperials are only a few hundred yards further along the path. Too close for Galmar or Ulfric's comfort. Ralof is by the fire when Galmar settles beside him. The younger Nord's gaze is distant, but at the general's approach, he seems to come to himself.

"Couldn't sleep, General?" "With those Imperial dogs within an arrow's shot? Bah."

Ralof nods. They are silent for several moments, then Galmar speaks.

"What can you tell me about the Dragonborn?"

Ralof looks at him properly for the first time, eyes present and smoking under the firelight.

"What did you want to know, General?"

What didn't he want to know? The woman was a puzzle, maneuvering through politics in such a way that nothing changed except her own position. She was a ghost, a wisp.

"She was at Helgen. Your report on the incident said she left with you and stayed with your sister before heading to Whiterun." "If you're wondering why she was at Helgen, she was coming from Cyrodiil." "Why?"

Ralof shrugs.

"Never came up."

Then Ralof's eyes cut across the small encampment to the tent where Galmar knows Ulfric lay wide awake.

"Seemed nervous around Jarl Ulfric, though."

That the Dragonborn was nervous around Ulfric was not something Galmar picked up, and now he chastises himself for it. But now that he thinks back on it, the Dragonborn, tall in her own right despite her delicate frame, seemed to withdraw under Ulfric's gaze. Galmar's mind spun through many possible explanations, but he could rationalize none of them. Her pure stance of neutrality and the rumors of her service to the people of Skyrim couldn't rationalize with the cosmopolitan Half-elf who was seemingly afraid of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Galmar, never one to back down from a challenge, asks Ulfric what the Hell he did to the Dragonborn. He waits only for them to return to Windhelm and the privacy of the war room.

"What?" "Don't tell me you didn't notice the girl wouldn't look you in the eye." ". . .and so I must have done something to her?" "She has some kind of problem with you."

Ulfric grimaces.

"Galmar, if you were any one else, I'd clap you in irons for such an accusation." "If I were anyone else, I'd have actually accused you of something instead of asking."

The thing is, Ulfric doesn't know. The few times he's met the Dragonborn, she's shied away from him. This doesn't help Galmar.

What made someone so sacrificial so skittish?

When news comes that the World-Eater has been defeated and the Dragonborn is once again wandering through Skyrim, helping the needy on both sides of the war, this question burrows deeper into Galmar. He doesn't understand her.

When he voices his wonderment to Yrsarald, the other general just scoffs with a shake of his head.

"You'll want to keep an eye on her. I don't trust her." "Hmm."

The thing was, even if the Dragonborn didn't seem to trust Ulfric or the Stormcloacks or, perhaps, anyone, Galmar found himself trusting her. Her every play seemed to be for the betterment of Skyrim and her people. Yrsarald's musings that she was a Thalmor plant didn't sit right with Galmar. Even if that explained her neutrality at High Hrothgar and her aversion to Ulfric, the Dragonborn was too giving to be under the thumb of the Dominion.

At least, Galmar didn't think she was.

Then she sweeps into Windhelm like a spring wind, still cold from the death of winter but breathing new life in her wake.

Galmar is in Candlehearth Hall when the Dragonborn appears at the end of the bar, wearing a blue dress not dissimilar to the one she wore during the peace council. She offers him a smile.

"I don't think we were formally introduced: Leara Ormand."

Galmar gives her a nod, greeting her as he takes in the wide eyes and curling red hair. All the power of a dragon inside such a frail woman. But she defeated Alduin.

What was she afraid of?

Galmar is aware of Leara in the peripheral as she inserts herself into the investigations concerning the recent string of murders in the city. Ulfric is distracted by the war effort and the guards are spread thin as it is. Yrsarald advises they keep an eye on her, and Galmar agrees, though he thinks it is for a different reason than Thrice-Pierced. Yrsarald is thinking of the safety of WIndhelm and her Jarl. Galmar, Housecarl though he was, was thinking of the fear and frailty that seemed to shroud Leara.

This point is driven home when Leara catches the Butcher and recieves a knife wound in thanks.

Galmar visits her at Candlehearth, finding her reclined in a chair by the fireside. A plate with a half-eaten apple tart sits on the table nearby, but she's more engrossed in the cup of tea he helps her pour.

"I'm all right, General, though I thank you for your concern." "Thank me by not dying while in Windhelm. The Imperials will start pointing fingers."

Leara laughs, and Galmar finds himself chuckling with her.

After that, Galmar finds himself visiting Leara as she recovers. It isn't as if he didn't already leave to go to the bar, but now that dropping in on Leara is a part of that routine, Galmar becomes hyperaware of Ulfric and Yrsarald watching him. One night, over a week after Galmar first visited Leara, he turns to Ulfric.

"You could come with me."

It wasn't as if Ulfric never came with him to the bar. Maybe some housecarls got ornery about their Jarls visiting the local taverns, but Galmar never saw the harm in it. Actually, it was good for morale for the people to see the Jarl out amung them.

Ulfric frowns, his hand on his beard.

"I don't want to impose on the Dragonborn. She won't want to see me."

Galmar scoffs.

"Just say hello to her and then find us a table. That's hardly bothering her."

Galmar almost regrets asking Ulfric to come when Leara's eyes find the Jarl across the room and instantly widen into saucers. The fork in her hand, speared with apple tart, quivers before she sets it back on the plate.

(Why did she always have sweets when he came to visit? From what Galmar had seen, she never seemed particularly interested in them.)

Leara makes to stand, but Ulfric holds up a hand.

"Jarl Ulfric!" "Good evening, Miss Ormand. I want to thank you for the services you've rendered my people. Galmar has told me how you're recovering." "Oh, it was my pleasure. I, I'm just glad to have prevented any more deaths."

Ulfric offers Leara a soft smile. Galmar blinks as a rosy hue stains Leara's ears.

Ulfric does not leave to find a table. Leara invites them to sit with her. By the end of the evening, Galmar is reassessing everything he thought he knew about Leara's perception of Ulfric. There was a certain wariness in her shoulders when the Jarl was around, but she appeared somehow softer as she spoke to him.

Something twisted in Galmar's stomach.

Less than two weeks later, Leara is gone.

"Not for long, I think I'd like to come back."

But when Leara smiles at him. Galmar can't help but remember the smiles she gave Ulfric. No, she wasn't afraid.

She's . . . Galmar couldn't acknowledge it.

Not yet.

Galmar can't devote all his time to the Dragonborn, however. There's still a war on, and dragons about, though they seemed less troublesome since Leara defeated the World-Eater. It was wishful thinking that she would bring that same canny peace to the war that she did to the dragons. But Galmar could dream.

And he did, often. Out in the camps, strategizing with the commanders and coordinating movements, Galmar found himself pinpointing missions that the Dragonborn would excell at. He could almost see her flitting through the camp, a Stormcloak blue cloak with the bear insignia thrown over her silver armor.

Damn it, Galmar missed the elf.

He could see Yrsarald shaking his head.

Fort Snowhawk is a strategic position in Hjaalmarch. Seizing it would give them a launching point to take Morthal and seize the hold, bringing them right to Solitude's doorstep. But the winter is settling in and with it, storms.

Galmar is tired of the cold.

"General, someone to see you." "Who is it?" "Says she's the Dragonborn."

Galmar nearly knocks his half empty bottle of ale off the table in his haste.

There she was, a brown hood barely containing the riot of dark hair.

"If you're here to help, then it's about damn time."

She laughs. Galmar missed her laugh.

"I'm afraid this isn't that kind of call, General Stone-Fist."

Then Leara hands him an old leather wrapped scroll. Galmar stands at it.

"Forgive my ignorance, but I believe this is something you're looking for."

Galmar's mouth is dry as he unravels the scroll. And there it is. The map to the Jagged Crown.

"I knew those pointy ears of yours were good for something." "Listening is one of my special talents."

Leara's smile is coy. Galmar wants to ask her about her other talents, but this wasn't the time (if the time ever even came).

"Has Jarl Ulfric seen this?" "No? He wasn't the one searching for it." "He'll need to be told." "Surprise him."

Leara's smile widens a fraction. Galmar swallows.

Leara is there at Korvanjund when they retrieve the Jagged Crown. Galmar can't say he's not glad she's there: She always seems one step ahead of the Imperials, bandits, and draugr that dog their path. But by Talos, until she joins the Stormcloaks formally, she's a liability.

Just as quickly as Galmar recalls her blush and downcast eyes when meeting Ulfric in Candlehearth, he recalls her iron hand at the negotiation table that held both sides in check. Trusting her was easy when she didn't insert herself in the middle of Stormcloak special operations, moving through them like a needle through thread.

. . . even if Leara was uncannily helpful.

"I hear Leara has been instrumental in a few of your recent ventures." "It would seem so."

Ulfric's jovial tone does nothing to raise Galmar's spirits.

Why won't she commit?"

"You seem troubled." "The Dragonborn troubles me." "She didn't before. What's changed?" "Does it not bother you that she hasn't sworn loyalty to the cause?"

Ulfric's face falls into thought.

"She won't betray me." "That's not my concern."

Surprise colors Ulfric's face.

"Then what are you worried about?"

Galmar shakes his head. But in his gut, he somehow knows that an oath of fealty isn't needed to bind Leara and Ulfric together. That more than anything ticked at him. She wouldn't betray the Stormcloaks—Ulfric—to the Empire or the Dominion. Galmar knew that all too well.

Leara's aquisition of Hjerim only strengthens his certainty.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?"

Galmar stares at her.

Leara is in another blue dress, this one a cool blue like frost. A basket of produce is hooked at her elbow.

"Galmar, would you like to have dinner tonight?" "That depends, can you cook?" "Yes, and I can bake too!"

The smile and laughter together. Golden blue and morning birds. She reminded him of Cyrodiil, or at least the parts he'd seen that weren't burned in battle.

He watches her stroll away through the market before realizing he never asked who else would be at Hjerim that evening. Well, he knows for sure at least one person . . .

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Clenching his jaw, Galmar crosses his arms.

"You mean she didn't invite you to dinner?"

Ulfric shrugs, clearly just as baffled.

Women. Who could understand them?

When he shows up at Hjerim, there is literally no one else there. Except Leara, of course. And her housecarl from Whiterun. But the dark-haired woman just smirks at him before disappearing upstairs with a bottle of ale and a tray of shortbread.

What was going on?

"Won't you sit down?"

Galmar sits down. Leara wasn't kidding before when she said she could cook: There is a lamb roast, potatoes and carrots, hot bread, butter, several sliced cheeses, and braised cabbage. In her hands, Leara cradles a Breton vintage he can't place.

"There's a custard in the kitchen. I couldn't get any lemons, so I bought some snowberry jam and swirled it in."

His throat dry, Galmar can only nod. There is an honest, earnest light in Leara's eyes that he can't quite face.

He would.

"Jarl Ulfric doesn't like snowberry jam." "And? What does he have to do with our dinner?" "It's something to keep in mind before you serve him the real meal." "The real meal? What are you talking about?" "This is a practice dinner before you ask Jarl Ulfric to come here."

The yellow-white bottle makes a soft thud as Leara deposites it on the table. Her eyes fix on Galmar, her mouth pops open.

"Is that . . . are you serious? No, of course you are!"

Ah. She was upset. Before Galmar can puzzle out how he's upset her, Leara sinks into a chair, her head in her hands. Galmar braces himself for either crying or some other hysterics, but no, Leara only sighs. Sitting beside her, Galmar clears his throat.

"Look, you don't get where I am in life without being able to admit you're wrong. This isn't some test run for a fancy meal for Ulfric, is it?" "Not at all."

She props her chin on the heel of her palm, a vaguely amused quirk to her otherwise tired mouth.

"It's for you." "I see that now, Ormand." "Do you?"

Then Leara is facing him, a hard set to her pale gold face. She looks far too Altmer in that moment, and Galmar only just refrains from shifting in agitation from the abrasive moonstone in her gaze.

"It was all for you."

This admission is so sudden, Galmar can't hold back the stunned,

"What?"

that escapes him.

Nodding, Leara squares her shoulders.

"The Jagged Crown? The field work? The brawl in Dawnstar—" "The what." "Oh, never mind that! Don't get distracted!" "You got into a brawl—" "For you!" "Why would you do something so stupid?!"

Reflectively, other women might have slapped him or screamed at him. If he were very lucky, they might only vocalize wordless frustration and then storm off.

Leara is not other women.

A slender hand reaches up and pats Galmar's cheek, before settling to rest on his jaw. Galmar's insides churn, heating. Leara's smile is accommodating and amused.

Oh.

Then she pinches his sideburns, not quite gently.

"You drove me to foolishness."

Then Leara is kissing him, and Galmar is very glad that this is not a practice dinner for Ulfric because after this, he isn't letting Leara run off to another man, even if that man is his Jarl and oldest friend. And then all thoughts of Ulfric and of Leara and Ulfric together disappear. Everything is Leara, her warmth contrasting the taste of frost and winter on her tongue.

He pulls her into his lap so he can wrap his arms around her. Blue skirts fall like glacial water over his knees as Leara presses into him, her arms winding around his neck.

The bear helm hits the floor.

Galmar growls and stands, arms full of Dragonborn. He trails kisses down her jaw, hoisting her up to better access her neck.

"Galmar . . . dinner . . ." "We'll have dinner, don't worry."

And they do. And then they have the lamb for dessert. If it's a bit cold, Galmar doesn't complain. He's warm enough, laying on the hearth rug with Leara. Tomorrow, he would feel it in his back, but tonight, he was quite content where he was.

However, when Leara rouses him at half past three to come to eat custard with her in her bed, Galmar doesn't regret following her somewhere more comfortable

The next day, when Ulfric discovers just what dinner with Leara had led to, Galmar can only laugh at his friend's slackjawed face. Later when he tells Leara about it (mercifully nested in her bed), she finds it as funny as Galmar did.

There's still a war going on and dragons are still terrorizing innocent farmers and travellers. Talos help him, but he's got to get Ulfric through the Moot and on the throne without any idiotic heroics or ill-begotten assassination attempts. It's all a bit daunting, but Leara's there, and if there's one thing Galmar knows, it's that he can trust her to be there when he needs her. And she'll be there, iron fist and all.

fin

[tamorii]

Hello folks !! My apologies for the radio silence, I've been working very hard on a comic for a magical girl anthology! My comic will feature my ancient OC Kameko as an adult in her late twenties, I'm having a blast working on this :) ✨

[kris-mage-fics]

okay i already asked about random facts but how about smth more specific: What kind environment does Kyrah prefer? (mountians, sea, wet and overcast, dry heat, ect) You've probably gone into this somewhere but what magic is she worst at?

Kyrahlise is used to the forests around Vale, which I imagine to have generally mild, temperate weather. She does like it there, it's familiar, and she knows that type of forest well. But it's also hard to go back to the areas she grew up in, so she tends to just pass through and tries not to think about what she left behind.

She's spent some time in the Southern Crescent, and ended up adoring it! If she hadn't joined the Shepherds, I could see her settling down in Conte. Mostly because she loooves the heat! Kyrah doesn't handle the cold well. Some say this is because she has a bit of Elvish blood, but she always claims all she got was the ears, lol

Kyrah also loves the mountains, but hates how fucking cold it is. The first time she crossed the Shield Peaks, there was an evening that had a gorgeous sunset. She happened to turn back towards the mountains and saw the glaciers awash in the colors of the sunset and fell in love! Ever sense then she's adored the mountains, and draws and paints them as much as she can when she's nearby. (Now y'all know why she was being so stubborn with Blade in that snippet and still found a way to paint the mountains of The Reach, lol!)

As for magic, Kyrahlise is absolutely the worst at Arcane magic! The thing is, she understands the theory and math behind it, but she can't seem to get it to work in practice. So she can talk to Red and keep up with the conversation. Ask her to actually do any of it and somehow the math and theory just disappear out of her head. It's very frustrating for her, because she's used to being able to stubbornly push through until she's good at something.

By Chapter 9, Kyrah is actually pretty good at Astral magic. It was very much a case of her pushing herself until it clicked. She wanted to broaden her skills, because she relies on her Psionic magic so much and she thought that might bite her in the butt at some point. (Sure enough, having decent Astral magic was a real boon in Chapter 8!)