tendertenebrosity

[tendertenebrosity]

commission for the very kindly @drchiropterajones

thank you again for commissioning me <3

if you like my work consider supporting me on Ko-Fi!

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this is about procrastinating. or executive dysfunction. i think

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@drchiropterajones character, Saelin Corr ✨💕

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Jeans or slacks with a brightly coloured blouse or button up, and some sort of chunky jewellery.

Or, if it's work, scrubs and gimmicky earrings that change every episode.

i'm curious, what's everyone's Default Outfit? like what would you be always drawn wearing in a cartoon? mine is concert tee + mid length skirt

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i genuinely think boats are such good places to set a story because it automatically gives you a set of really interesting circumstances -- boats are transitory, you are not meant to stay on them forever, there is an automatic assumption of ending up somewhere different from where you started...characters are forced into close proximity, stakes are higher, etc. boats also just look cool, so that's always a plus

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Long haired character with the hair falling like liquid all over them as they’re hurt and on their knees

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I have no idea what made me want to return to Lian after all this time, but draft 4 of the novel is driving me batty so here we are. I wouldn't get your hopes up for more of it though.

Masterpost here. This ask might also shed some light on matters.

Once the Elven representatives, and Kite’s own lieutenants had left, it was only Kite and his Ruler in the tent.

Ruler Lian looked younger than Kite had been expecting. Dark hair pulled back with a flower-shaped clasp, the fabric of their robes dyed in an Elven pattern even though the cut was traditional.

I hope I didn’t make a mistake backing you, Kite thought. His second had urged him not to - why do we need the old family lines, she’d hissed, screw tradition. The old Ruler was fine, but this kid? They weren’t here when it counted.

The rebel army would follow Kite, had followed Kite this far, and they’d back him on the throne. Kite didn’t doubt it. But that wasn’t why he’d done any of this. And he needed the Elven help this dainty soft-skinned monarch had brought.

They killed the Empress, he’d reminded his second. There’s got to be SOME steel in there. It’s just very well hidden. And she’d laughed behind her hand.

The Ruler was looking at Kite’s scar. It was ugly, pale shiny skin stretching up his wrist and disappearing into his sleeve. When he caught them at it, they flicked their dark eyes up politely and pretended they hadn’t been.

“Lost the fingers at the docks,” Kite said, lifting his hand and waggling its crooked three fingers. “But the scar, that’s from earlier. A battle we call Sorrow’s Ridge.”

The Ruler nodded in understanding.

“After we lost your father, the remnant of the army retreated south to the ridge,” Kite said. “Held out for two weeks until we made the decision to abandon it, escape in trickles through the rural Southern villages. About half of my original band have scars from that week.”

“I do, as well,” the Ruler said, their voice soft. A quiet pretty pampered little voice, like the gentle colours on their robe and the twist in their dark hair held up by the clasp. They inclined their head. “It was… a nightmare time. I didn’t know that you were there.”

Cold washed over Kite.

No. No, we’re not doing this.

Kite stood. The Ruler was fairly tall, but they were a slender reed of a person, and Kite still had a few inches on them. He brought his height and breadth looming over the table, and was satisfied to see the Ruler swallow and lean back in their chair. He leaned over, resting his hands on the table.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” he said softly. “Were you there? At the Ridge?”

Those dark eyes flickered, dropped to Kite’s hand, its ruined fingers spread out in front of them. They took a deep breath, squared their shoulders under that pretty fabric.

“No, honoured sir. I was not.”

“You were safe in the capital, weren’t you? In the palace?”

“I was in the palace, yes. I wouldn’t - ”

“So, how is it you have scars from a battle at which you were not present?” Kite took a deep breath. “Maybe you don’t know how that battle’s spoken of out here among the people, so let me just tell you, that statement was very unwise. I’m not speaking metaphorically here, your highness. I’d advise you not to either.”

The Ruler’s face was very still. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Listen, your highness,” Kite said bluntly. “We were going to have this discussion at some point, so now’s as good a time as any. You were in the Palace being made a pet of by the Empress for most of the occupation. And you weren’t here for the uprising, either; you fled to the Elven lands.”

Their eyelashes flickered slightly, at that; but they didn’t interrupt.

“Now, I’m not exactly criticising you for the choices you’ve made. We’d be in a pretty tight spot if you hadn’t talked them around. It was the right decision to go.” Kite took a breath and forced himself to be fair. “And I’m sure being with the Empress was frightening, and I don’t doubt you were very upset to hear about the battle of the Ridge. But you heard about it. You were not there.”

Ruler Lian met his eyes. “It wasn’t my intention to claim pain that isn’t mine. But I can see how…” They bowed their head, slim shoulders drooping for a moment. “I’m sorry. Please accept my heartfelt apology.”

They were either very sincere, or very good at pretending it. But Kite liked that they’d made no attempt at excuses.

Kite considered for a moment, and then sat down again, bringing himself to the Ruler’s level.

“Accepted,” he said. “Your highness, please be careful how you speak when my fighters can hear you. I had to work hard to get them to accept you back as the rightful Ruler. If you aren’t mindful of the people who’ve done that actual fighting and dying for the past five years, they won’t follow you.”

“Thank you,” the Ruler said. Their fingers twisted on the table in front of them. “I appreciate your support. And your… candour.”

Kite still hadn’t seen any ‘steel’. He suspected that he would not.

But he could work with what was here.

[tendertenebrosity]

I have no idea what made me want to return to Lian after all this time, but draft 4 of the novel is driving me batty so here we are. I wouldn't get your hopes up for more of it though.

Masterpost here. This ask might also shed some light on matters.

Once the Elven representatives, and Kite’s own lieutenants had left, it was only Kite and his Ruler in the tent.

Ruler Lian looked younger than Kite had been expecting. Dark hair pulled back with a flower-shaped clasp, the fabric of their robes dyed in an Elven pattern even though the cut was traditional.

I hope I didn’t make a mistake backing you, Kite thought. His second had urged him not to - why do we need the old family lines, she’d hissed, screw tradition. The old Ruler was fine, but this kid? They weren’t here when it counted.

The rebel army would follow Kite, had followed Kite this far, and they’d back him on the throne. Kite didn’t doubt it. But that wasn’t why he’d done any of this. And he needed the Elven help this dainty soft-skinned monarch had brought.

They killed the Empress, he’d reminded his second. There’s got to be SOME steel in there. It’s just very well hidden. And she’d laughed behind her hand.

The Ruler was looking at Kite’s scar. It was ugly, pale shiny skin stretching up his wrist and disappearing into his sleeve. When he caught them at it, they flicked their dark eyes up politely and pretended they hadn’t been.

“Lost the fingers at the docks,” Kite said, lifting his hand and waggling its crooked three fingers. “But the scar, that’s from earlier. A battle we call Sorrow’s Ridge.”

The Ruler nodded in understanding.

“After we lost your father, the remnant of the army retreated south to the ridge,” Kite said. “Held out for two weeks until we made the decision to abandon it, escape in trickles through the rural Southern villages. About half of my original band have scars from that week.”

“I do, as well,” the Ruler said, their voice soft. A quiet pretty pampered little voice, like the gentle colours on their robe and the twist in their dark hair held up by the clasp. They inclined their head. “It was… a nightmare time. I didn’t know that you were there.”

Cold washed over Kite.

No. No, we’re not doing this.

Kite stood. The Ruler was fairly tall, but they were a slender reed of a person, and Kite still had a few inches on them. He brought his height and breadth looming over the table, and was satisfied to see the Ruler swallow and lean back in their chair. He leaned over, resting his hands on the table.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” he said softly. “Were you there? At the Ridge?”

Those dark eyes flickered, dropped to Kite’s hand, its ruined fingers spread out in front of them. They took a deep breath, squared their shoulders under that pretty fabric.

“No, honoured sir. I was not.”

“You were safe in the capital, weren’t you? In the palace?”

“I was in the palace, yes. I wouldn’t - ”

“So, how is it you have scars from a battle at which you were not present?” Kite took a deep breath. “Maybe you don’t know how that battle’s spoken of out here among the people, so let me just tell you, that statement was very unwise. I’m not speaking metaphorically here, your highness. I’d advise you not to either.”

The Ruler’s face was very still. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Listen, your highness,” Kite said bluntly. “We were going to have this discussion at some point, so now’s as good a time as any. You were in the Palace being made a pet of by the Empress for most of the occupation. And you weren’t here for the uprising, either; you fled to the Elven lands.”

Their eyelashes flickered slightly, at that; but they didn’t interrupt.

“Now, I’m not exactly criticising you for the choices you’ve made. We’d be in a pretty tight spot if you hadn’t talked them around. It was the right decision to go.” Kite took a breath and forced himself to be fair. “And I’m sure being with the Empress was frightening, and I don’t doubt you were very upset to hear about the battle of the Ridge. But you heard about it. You were not there.”

Ruler Lian met his eyes. “It wasn’t my intention to claim pain that isn’t mine. But I can see how…” They bowed their head, slim shoulders drooping for a moment. “I’m sorry. Please accept my heartfelt apology.”

They were either very sincere, or very good at pretending it. But Kite liked that they’d made no attempt at excuses.

Kite considered for a moment, and then sat down again, bringing himself to the Ruler’s level.

“Accepted,” he said. “Your highness, please be careful how you speak when my fighters can hear you. I had to work hard to get them to accept you back as the rightful Ruler. If you aren’t mindful of the people who’ve done that actual fighting and dying for the past five years, they won’t follow you.”

“Thank you,” the Ruler said. Their fingers twisted on the table in front of them. “I appreciate your support. And your… candour.”

Kite still hadn’t seen any ‘steel’. He suspected that he would not.

But he could work with what was here.

[tendertenebrosity]

© plutoxoxi via x/twitter

[tendertenebrosity]

A strange encounter in the back of the garden

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Part one

When I was a child, before the civil war, my tutor told me stories if I was good at my lessons. There was one about a tanial, or something very like it. A river maiden who sang and cried so beautifully that the soldier who’d taken her shining silver cloak from the riverbank was compelled to give it back to her.

Evidently not all shape-turners have that quality, though, because by the time we had hiked to the nearest port and booked passage to the Southern Continent, I was heartily sick of our taniel’s tears.

No amount of reasoning or comfort from me or from Aspen, who he’d previously been on the best terms with, helped. He spent the days in sullen silence, and more than once I felt his eyes boring into my back, only to turn around and find him glaring at the ground, that glossy black hair that always looked faintly wet falling all over his face.

Once we were about the ship, though, he stopped glaring at me and spent most of his time lying about in human shape and pitiful poses, retching miserably. The ship was shabby but respectable, and the captain had accepted my false name and hastily-constructed story of business interests in the South without a problem.

On the fourth day of the voyage, the mate took me aside. He was a man in his fifties with a lopsided frown and weathered hands covered in tiny scars. “My lord,” he said cautiously. “How… much do you know about your servant? The sick one. Has he been with you long?”

“Tani? Oh, about six months,” I said. I leaned on the railing, watching the waves off the bow. “I’m sorry he’s been taken so badly, I didn’t realise the sea would disagree with him this much.”

It surprised me a little, but I supposed he was a river creature, not salt water. And he was probably unused to being on a boat for long stretches.

And to be honest? It felt cruel saying so, even in the privacy of my own head, but part of me thought he was playing it up a bit. Or at least, that his misery was at least as much in his head as his stomach.

But I was sorry he was seasick.

The mate hummed thoughtfully. “Not long, then. Do you know what he did before he came into your service?”

“No,” I agreed. I pushed back a memory of an iron cage, the marks of a yoke across bare shoulders. Muddy green eyes fixed on a bucket of water in my hands. “Not long. Why do you ask?”

I’m better than that. He has no call to look at me like…

The mate rubbed a hand through his greying beard and looked uncomfortable. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but… there’s something… uncanny about him.” He cast me a look as if he expected me to wave him off but was determined to say his piece regardless. “I don’t mean to overstep myself, mind. But I can’t in good conscience let you keep on without saying anything. He’s not human.”

I turned to give him my full attention. “Why do you say that?” I asked. I’d thought Taniel’s disguise was good. I certainly couldn’t see anything.

The mate shrugged his shoulders. “Was just a feeling at first. But he’s always cold to touch, had you noticed? His hands? One of the boys went and took a closer look at him last night, and his hair’s growing in with weeds. Waterweeds, like.”

Weeds? Cold hands seemed a bit flimsy to condemn a person for, I’d been about to say, but at that I frowned. I’d never seen anything odd in Tani’s hair, other than it seeming to stay damp longer than it should. “Interesting.”

“Seen it before. He’s some sort of water fairy for certain, and I’m not sure what he wants with you or this ship, but...” The mate took in my lack of shock, and his frown deepened. “Did you know already?”

I inclined my head, but didn’t outright agree. “Uncanny or not, I’m confident Tani isn’t dangerous. He’s on the ship because he’s working for me, you don’t need to worry about your crew or ship. He won’t eat anybody.”

“You have his bridle, then?” the mate asked. “Or his stone, or whatever…”

“He does what I say.”

The mate sighed and rearranged his cloak, huffing. He tried his best to hide it, but it was obvious he thought this was even worse, and he was now obligated to talk a fool out of his foolishness.

“My lord, this is more dangerous than you know,” he said.

“I know what I’m doing,” I said.

“He might play helpless for now, and I don’t doubt he makes himself useful, but he’ll be looking for any opportunity to stab you in the back. Depend on it.” The mate shook his head. “Better to throw him and his trinket into the sea with weights. Might not kill’im, but it’ll slow him down long enough to…”

“I’ll consider it if I have any problems,” I said. “So far, I’m not worried.”

“You should be,” he said. “You’re not the first bright young lad to think you can outsmart a shapeshifter, but -”

“Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention,” I said, putting steel into my voice. I straightened up, and made sure I met the mate’s eyes. “Nobody is to bother him. He’s under both my protection, and my control. Am I clear?”

“Aye, my lord,” the mate said, with a long-suffering look. “As you say.”

I don’t know how the mate thought the tanial was going to get up and devour crewmembers when he couldn’t even keep bread down or walk in a straight line, I thought as I went to check on him in the tiny cabin I’d rented for us.

I dropped to my haunches beside him, in his nest of blankets, to examine his hair more closely. At first it just looked like normal hair, black and slightly curled and finally looking dry. And then I saw it. A frond of something deep green and frilly that was most certainly not hair, interspersed with the rest.

I resisted the urge to touch the pouch that hung around my neck. Tani wasn't dangerous. Not now, and I didn't think ever.

He shifted enough to look at me with one red-rimmed eye. Once he saw it was me, his expression shifted into a scowl. He threw his arm over his head. “Leave me alone.”

“When did you start growing pondweed?” I asked.

His hand went up to his hair and combed through it until he found the frond. He groaned pitifully. “Oh. Ugh.” His fingers followed it up to the scalp, uprooted it, and threw it down to the deck in apparent bad temper.

I frowned at it, equally curious and distasteful. “Doesn’t that hurt? Has something changed? You didn’t have those before.”

“Go away.”

I held my breath and let it out while I counted to ten, as I’d been taught by my tutor to control my temper. “Tani. Manners. Answer me.”

“Nothing’s changed except I forgot, okay?” he mumbled into his arms. “I pull them out when I’m in town. I forgot. Been too sick.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Well, don’t forget. People have already noticed.”

“I’m sorry,” he snarled. “Is imprisoning me causing you social awkwardness, your highness?”

“I’m not imprisoning you. We have a deal, I - ” I discarded that line of reasoning; he was deaf to it. “Do you want to get thrown overboard? I don’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“Go ahead! I can’t be seasick at the bottom of the sea! And at least you wouldn’t be there!”

He’ll come around. It didn’t take him long to become comfortable with us in the first place, it’ll happen again. He’ll get his freedom in the end, like I said, and everything will be fine. It will be worth it in the end.

The soldier, I recalled unwillingly, had drowned in the end of my tutor’s story. But he was a character in a story, and Tani and I weren’t.

Everything would be fine. I just needed to get the Cup and my throne.

[tendertenebrosity]

Promises

A little bit inspired by this post, but also just an idea that's been lurking for years.

After what we’d found in the ancient temple, all of the humans were despondent. I was surprised to find that I was, too - over the weeks of travel together I’d come to care about their goal.

I shouldn’t have. What did the human throne mean to me? I’d outlived one civil war, I’d do it again. I liked Prince Arin, but that didn’t mean he’d make a better king than any of the others. Neither would possession of the Cup, actually.

And yet.

I was exhausted from the dive, but I took the time and energy needed to make my human shape again before I went to speak with the prince, because he always seemed to find it easier to talk to. Maybe also because I was putting it off.

I found him on the cliff, looking down into the ferocious sea with his face unsettlingly blank. I sat beside him on the jagged rock and curled my arms around my knees. Anxiety fluttered formless in my belly.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked him after a long minute of silence.

He gave me a black look, and for a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he turned back to his regard of the crashing waves.

“I’m not giving up,” he said, his jaw set stubbornly. “If the Cup isn’t here, it must be in one of the other locations. There are Ancient ruins all over the Southern continental coastline. We’ll search them - all of them, if we have to.”

I digested this for a minute, my legs growing cold underneath me from the rock. I should have expected that answer, maybe - he was stubborn - but the Southern coast was long. How did he know it hadn’t been taken already, I considered asking him. How did he know the door mechanisms wouldn’t be destroyed or sunk below…

Below even my ability to reach.

“Listen - Tanial,” the prince said. He was staring out at the sea again. “I know why you’re here. What you want to talk about.”

I tensed. I couldn’t help flicking my eyes over the prince’s body, looking for hints. Surely he kept it on him and not in his tent. “My soulstone.”

He nodded. “I promised to give it back once we’d retrieved the Cup.”

The first knot of dread tightened in my stomach. “That wasn’t the agreement,” I said, trying to keep it out of my voice. Trying to keep myself calm, reasonable, as if we were haggling over a purchase at a marketplace stall. “I agreed to come to the Mouth with you, and get you inside. You said if I did that you’d give it to me.”

“I said that I would give it back when we’d gotten into the Mouth and found the Cup,” he said sternly. “You got us in - thank you. It was well done. But the cup isn’t there, so - ”

I took a deep breath. And then another, and another, as I tried to hold the words in. I failed.

“You promised,” I said, almost a wail.

“Tani - Tani, I know I did, but I still need you!” He darted a glance at me, appealing, guilty. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give up now, and if you part ways with us then we have no hope of getting into the next ruins. I can’t give up. You know what’s at stake, you know I can’t give up.”

“I might stay,” I said. “You could ask. You could give me the stone and ask me to stay. I… I was going to offer…”

I had been, too, I realised. But he shook his head, a look of mingled pity and distrust passing over his face. “I can’t - Tani, if you leave I don’t know what we’ll do. If it was just my life at stake I’d take the risk, but… this is about my country. My people.”

I knew it. I knew this would happen. I should have known from the beginning, when he’d seemed so fair and even-handed. I was such a naive little fool.

“I’m sorry, Tanial...”

“You’ll never give it back,” I said, bitterness making my stomach churn, as if I might throw up bile here into the salt-stained wind. “I should never have believed you. I can’t believe I was so stupid!”

I knew all the same fairy stories he did. Everybody who ever let a shape-turner’s stone slip out of their hands in the stories met a bad end, as the shape-turner killed them outright or tricked them into a bad situation and skipped away laughing. There were a scant handful where the hero of the story gave it back on purpose, and the shape-turner was never grateful, never spared them.

The prince had gone pale and a little queasy-looking, but his jaw firmed. “I will give it back,” he said. “When the quest is done. It isn’t done yet, but as soon as it is, I promise - ”

“Your promises,” I spat, turning away to hide my tears. “Worth less than dirt.”

“Enough,” he said, standing up. Resolution swept across his face. “I won’t be spoken to with that much disrespect, Tanial. I’ll be your king. I understand why you’re disappointed, and I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision and it is final. You will get your stone back after I retrieve the Cup.”

I’d believed that Prince Arin would look past the stories. He’d treated me fairly - from his perspective - so why wouldn’t he expect fair treatment back?

But now he’d cheated me. And the quest for the Cup would stretch into months and years, and I’d have no choice but to follow until it was done. And once it was he’d have a kingdom to rule, and there would always be a reason for not yet, and all the while those stories of the hero laid low because he took his eyes off the shape-turner would be there in the back of his mind…

No. He’d never give it back now.

He was already heading down the path. “We have a lot to do if we’re going to book passage on a ship. Come on.”

“I hate you,” I whispered into my knees. “You were supposed to be different.”

He either didn’t hear me, or pretended not to. I got up and followed; I had no choice.

[tendertenebrosity]

#also i dont know these guys but i ALSO almost just used a question mark for delta’s attractiveness

Taniel is a shapeshifter so he can theoretically look as attractive or unattractive as he wants! His true form, in as much as he has one, isn't human at all.

✭ OC TAG: Rate Your Traits ✭

ty @toreadorcaretaker :)

in chart format for convenience ^_^

template under cut

Compassion: 

Bitterness: 

Happiness: 

Politeness: 

Chivalry: 

Pride: 

Honesty: 

Bravery: 

Recklessness: 

Ambition: 

Loyalty: 

Love: 

Sense of Family: 

Attractiveness: 

Sex Drive: 

tagging uhhhh @just-horrible-things @whump-queen @deluxewhump and whoever wants to :0

[tendertenebrosity]

More because this is surprisingly fun and these guys are weird.

(check out Illiam over here with his max bitterness, pride, and recklessness. He also has surprisingly high compassion he just pretends he doesn't)

✭ OC TAG: Rate Your Traits ✭

ty @toreadorcaretaker :)

in chart format for convenience ^_^

template under cut

Compassion: 

Bitterness: 

Happiness: 

Politeness: 

Chivalry: 

Pride: 

Honesty: 

Bravery: 

Recklessness: 

Ambition: 

Loyalty: 

Love: 

Sense of Family: 

Attractiveness: 

Sex Drive: 

tagging uhhhh @just-horrible-things @whump-queen @deluxewhump and whoever wants to :0

[tendertenebrosity]

I wanted to colour code it.

@friendlyforestbeast!

✭ OC TAG: Rate Your Traits ✭

ty @toreadorcaretaker :)

in chart format for convenience ^_^

template under cut

Compassion: 

Bitterness: 

Happiness: 

Politeness: 

Chivalry: 

Pride: 

Honesty: 

Bravery: 

Recklessness: 

Ambition: 

Loyalty: 

Love: 

Sense of Family: 

Attractiveness: 

Sex Drive: 

tagging uhhhh @just-horrible-things @whump-queen @deluxewhump and whoever wants to :0