#Spidersilk comic

[spidersilkss]

Part 0: Overflow

#comic #oc #oc art #oc comic #webcomic #spidersilks

[random-introverted-blog]

His Star - His Queen [Chapter 3 - Tithes To The King]

Where are you/Where is Tav? Somewhere...

Summary: Astarion arrives in the Ascendants world. Nothings different. Until it is.

Then he meets his first ally, who explains the differences while getting shitfaced.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

A/N: I know, I know. Where's you/tav? ...Somewhere.

Be patient, little muffins.

Warnings/Adivsories: Some... unsavory meanings about these tithes. Like... prostitution. People offer their hot youngins to a tyrant for services that may or may not be sexual...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A knock came to the door of his quarters and Astarion called for them to enter. He was just finishing a final once over of his equipment when the male elf, Aeron poked his head in. "All the preparations have been made. The only missing component is you, Ser." He says with a subtle inflection in his voice. If the circumstances were different, Astarion would enjoy the sound of his racing heart, indulge in teasing even. But that would only further delay him.

He would not tolerate having his patience tested any longer.

With one tug to the strap of his spidersilk armor, he sheathed his daggers and slung his bow and quiver before striding toward the door. Aeron only narrowly avoiding before pushed aside by the vampire spawn. Comically, he hurried ahead of Astarion, matching his brisk walk as they navigated the lonesome halls of this temple... or whatever. They weren't very forthcoming about where this place was.

They arrived through the heavy double doors into the war room, where Illyndra gazed upon her reflection, the frame of the mirror ominously shifting from black to red in a slow wave. Arms folded behind her back. "Excellent. I trust you are ready to proceed?" She says without looking at him.

"You're asking if I'm ready to proceed?" Astarion retorts, looking between her and the mirror before scoffing and looking away.

Illyndra sighs and turns to face him, then glances beside them. "Aeron, if you would."

He nods and reaches slowly for Astarion's left arm. Holding it gently between both hands. A soft red glow glazes his eyes. "Per astra et mea ad te." Aeron speaks with confidence, and a warm burn almost too hot to be comfortable washes over his limb. It passes quickly enough and the man steps away, eyes returning to his bright silver color.

"With this, you can navigate to the Ascendants' homeline with no risks, will conceal your identity from any other, excluding Tav and him, and overcome the difficulties caused by vampirism. You will need to return here within two days of your entry, so the enchantment may be recast on you—"

"Two days?! That's it?!"

"That is all the gods are willing to permit. We will well use what they have allotted to us." She states sternly, before motioning to Aeron again.

He nods and passes in front of Astarion, his hand touching the mirror and eyes glowing softly again, "ab astris ad astra."

The mirror shimmers and warbles, its surface rippling like water in response to his words. Astarion's keen eyes discern faint shapes that don't belong in this room. He sees a discarded chair, toppled on its side, a table with a book propping up one leg, and the scent of dust and debris permeating the air. The creaking of rickety wooden floors accompanies the scene. "Find Aric Blackthistle, a male tiefling with grey skin and short horns. Gather every bit of information you can. Our next steps hinge on what you uncover."

"To hells with gathering anything, I need to find her." He hissed angrily, voice reverberating softly along the wide expanse of the room.

"You will not," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of determination and caution. "He undoubtedly has her well hidden, deep within the labyrinthine walls of his palace." A barely noticeable hint of dust permeated the air, intermingling with the faint aroma of torches burning on the walls.

His fingers clenched into tight fists, nails digging into his palms. The urgency pulsed through her veins, a primal instinct urging her to action. But his steady gaze met hers, his eyes filled with wariness. "Now is not the time to be brash," she warned, her voice laced with a hint of apprehension. "We must tread carefully, strategize our every move. We will reach her in time." The words hung in the air, a fragile promise amidst the uncertainty. Together, they stood in the well lit war room, their resolve burning bright, as they prepared to embark on a treacherous journey to end the Ascendant and save you.

Astarion turned to the mirror and stepped toward it. His fingers delicately brushed against it, and he was surprised to feel an icy, watery sensation that left his fingertips strangely dry. Briefly, he examined them, rubbing them together with his thumb before forging ahead.

That same sensation cascaded over his entire body, cold enough to startle him with a gasp. How it was cold enough to affect him, Astarion could only guess. If he had any inclination to give it attention. Still, he had more urgent matters that demanded his immediate action.

Standing in that same room he glimpsed through the mirror, the vampire gave a cursory glance at the surroundings of what he presumed was an abandoned home before striding for the door and stepping out into the world beyond.

Immediately, the setting sun glared into his eyes, sparking against the surface of the Chinothar. Two chatty men strode past him without so much as a glance and Astarion simply paused in quiet awe at how truthful Illyndra had been. He'll be honest... he didn't think she could pull it off.

As he turned the corner and ambled down the streets of Baldur's Gate, he had to remind himself that this wasn't his Baldur's Gate. Though everything stood and looked exactly the same, save a store or two he didn't recognize. Then his eyes caught something in the distance... he squinted a little, trying to see it better without approaching it.

Ah, and the enormous marble statue of a regal-looking elf... Him. Dead center in front of the gates to the city.

He must admit, he does cut an exceptional sculpture.

Sighing, he continued on. Effortlessly weaving through the streets, noting all the young men and women dressed in fine clothing, hair and skin clearly tidied with meticulous detail. Some were excited, some melancholy, others impassive or solemn. Looks like he arrived at an odd time. They were almost all accompanied by someone. Presumably, a relative who wore slightly less elegant attire.

As he stood there, he observed the crowd gradually making their way towards the Szarr Palace, their footsteps creating a rhythmic hum. Or what would've been the Szarr palace. In its place stood a larger, elegant, lavish, and ornamented mansion.

Convinced it was probably best to follow the crowd and gather information, he joined them on their march toward the oversized wooden doors. Right away he spotted a man, a grey-skinned tiefling with short curled horns, arguing with another, paler one. A tall elf in a simple but silver embroidered black jacket. "We invested much of our time and coin to present our tithes—"

"And you have done so. Marvelous, you can carry out simple instruction." The well-dressed man said in a deep, posh voice that grated Astarions' ears. "But the God-King's word is final. Your tithes are no longer desired by him." He remained still in the face of the angry crowd.

God-king? How arrogant and pig-headed is his ascended self?

But before the tiefling could respond, the elf held up his hand. "However, as you are keen to bestow upon the Ancunín palace your generosity, our almighty God-king has declared he would still accept offerings of sustenance and servitude. The potential offer of his eternal gift in his service remains intact." He explained stone faced and posture perfect

The tiefling sneered, clenching his jaw before a younger girl touched his arm. "It's alright, papa, I can still serve..."

He balked, eyes widening and gaze hardening at her. "No! You know what that means!" The tiefling man said, desperation tinged in his voice.

"I do," she said with a hint of sadness. "It means Asha can finally get the care she needs." Her voice soft and gentle. A beautiful smile slowly formed, causing delicate lines to appear on her lips. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the setting sunlight that hung in the sky. Her hand slipped off his arm. However, before she could fully retreat, he turned towards her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. With a tender gesture, he pressed a loving kiss to the top of her head, offering comfort. For him, for himself, perhaps both.

Her eyes glossed over and her hand began slipping off his arm. But he turned and wrapped her up in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

They had a hushed conversation between themselves before she stepped away and looked at the Elven man.

His piercing, scrutinizing eyes meticulously sweep over her, tracing every contour from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, until he finally grants a decisive, solitary nod. "Very well," he utters, his voice carrying a certain air of authority amidst the bustling, attentive crowd. "You will come with us, and the master will have the final say." Assuring the restless onlookers, he raises his voice and says, "Rest assured, the forthcoming festivities due in a mere tenday will proceed as planned."

Astarion watched with a numbness as the young lady shuffled away, behind him and with the line of pale, well-dressed figures. She remained fixated on the ground, never allowing her eyes to wander. The trend continued from there. Sometimes they were accompanied, sometimes they were alone.

The world will yearn to kneel... and offer its neck.

What kind of insanity was this tyrant subjecting everyone to?

Honestly, it didn't trouble him terribly. He wasn't a bleeding heart like you, his Star. What did bother him was that this thing wearing his face was the reason for all of this. Shaking his head, he noticed the male tiefling slowly distancing himself, fading away from the crowd and making his way back down the path. Didn't Illyndra describe this one? Aric Blackthistle, grey-skinned and short horns? Could he risk wasting time and asking the wrong person when he could simply plan how he'll infiltrate the palace?

Deep down, he knew that Illyndra's assessment was accurate, even though he despised admitting it. If he gets caught, the uncertainty of what might befall you in the time it would require to escape is unsettling. Better to understand this world a bit more and plan his next course of action from there.

So he followed him, ensuring he kept a careful distance to avoid arousing his suspicions. Unsurprised when he quickly ducked into the Elfsong. Astarion followed him inside and straight to the bar. "I assume you're Aric Blackthistle?" He queries, taking the seat beside him.

The tiefling lifts his head, sparing only a glance before waving down the barman, who gives him a knowing nod and grabs a mug. Only then does he give Astarion a full acknowledgement. "You must be the one those Time Priests mentioned. Let me catch you up to speed then, I'm sure they told you jack..." He grumbled, holding his hand out eagerly and expectantly for his drink and the barman obliged, pushing it into his hand before thumping his shoulder.

"All the politics you're likely familiar with, the dukes, the parliament of peers, the patriars, all that remains intact. With one major addition." Pausing only to take a swig of his drink.

Astarion arched a brow. "The godking?"

"That fucker." He grunted as he set down his mug and leaned his arm on the bar. "They're all puppets, of course. They sing and dance and smear their faces in dog muck if it's to please Godking Ancunín. He lets them meet and run the sword coast, and they propose their ideas to his Royal Steward, who then picks the better ones to present to our King." Aric sneers, his knuckles turning white around his mug.

"After he threatened their bloodlines for wasting his time," he continued, "they reluctantly agreed to appoint an intermediary, a go-between. Someone to pass the buck to."

He continued speaking, his voice low and filled with tension, as Astarion remained still, absorbing his words. The room filled with the sounds of ambient chatter among the other patrons, occasionally disrupted by the clank of a mug. Aric's gaze drifted, his eyes distant, lost in a sea of thoughts. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the haunting images that plagued his mind.

He continued, and Astarion simply remained still and quiet. Processing all of this. "The Crimson Eclipse nearly set off a chain of events that I'd much rather never witness in my lifetime..." he said, his voice tinged with a hint of dread. The room seemed to darken slightly, as if reflecting the weight of his words.

As Aric continued speaking, a subtle scent of trepidation filled the air, blending with his unwavering determination. "But if the rumors hold any truth, then..." his voice trailed off, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty.

His hand brushed against his forehead, a gesture of frustration and worry. "That doesn't matter now," he said, his tone laced with urgency. "My little Elowen is in that hellpit, risking her life to gather information for us from within."The room seemed to grow colder, a chilling atmosphere settling around them. Aric's voice carried a hint of bitterness as he spoke. "Word has reached us that the Ancunín palace no longer accepts maidens. Our plans to get close to that...that fucker...have been thwarted."

A sense of disappointment and frustration hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of desperation. "The best she can do now is infiltrate as a servant girl, getting as close to him as possible," Aric concluded, his words echoing with a mix of hope and resignation.

"Maidens?" Astarion repeats, his tone laced with both confusion and a hint of unease. The sheer ambiguity of that statement allows for an endless array of potential meanings.

Aric snorted, the sound echoing through the dimly lit tavern. "Our godking is a hedonistic sicko," he scoffed, his voice filled with disdain. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on his furrowed brow, reflecting the intensity of his words. The air was heavy with the scent of the wood furnishings and spilled ale, mingling with the faint aroma of roasted meat wafting from the kitchen.

Leaning back against the worn wooden bar, Aric's fingers drummed impatiently, creating a rhythmic sound that blended with the lively chatter of the patrons. With a quick tap on the bar, he caught the bartender's attention, silently requesting another refill.

"The godking used to seek them on occasion when the queen was alive," Aric continued, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Though not as frequently as he had after she passed. The sudden disinterest has many mouths yapping..." His words trailed off, drowned out momentarily by the clinking of glasses and the laughter of a nearby group.

Aric paused, lost in thought, before a shrug of his shoulder broke the silence. "We may have a new queen soon enough," he mused. "I've heard things weren't... good when she reigned at his right hand, but better than they are now. It's been said his iron grip was not as tight. He was calmer. Dare I say contented."

His gaze shifted to the doorway, anticipation flickering in his eyes. "You can stay with me while you visit," he offered, his voice filled with a sense of loyalty. "The missive they sent ahead mentioned you can't remain here for too long, and I'm happy to lend aid to the resistance's strongest allies."

The low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filled the air once again, as the tavern continued to buzz with life.

Once again, Astarion was left with a multitude of questions that he'd apparently have to ask at a later time, as the tiefling man tossed some coin on the bar and rose from his seat. "I can only imagine how arrogant and megalomaniac he must be to consider himself a god as well as a king..." He mused, more so to himself as he followed behind.

But his statement seemed to make Aric momentarily hesitate as they set foot on the streets in front of the Elfsong."You misunderstand... Much as I loathe him," he said, his voice carrying a hint of caution, "I dare not underestimate him." Turning towards Astarion, his gaze locked with intense determination.

"He has every right to deem himself a god..."

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: Next chapter.

You get Ascendant x You/Tav next chapter.

Promise

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere #male yandere #soft yandere #ascended astarion vs spawn astarion #His Star - His Queen #HS-HQ

[mrxcreepypasta1991]

For: @ask-toxic-the-yokai

New Muse!

Meet Artemis Nightworg!

Artemis Nightworg

Species: Werewolf

Age: Unknown (Immortal)

Gender: Male

Sex: Straight

Food/Prey:

• Caribou

• Deers

• Any kind of meat from the Meat Market or Restaurant.

Affiliation:

• Goosebumps

• Playboy Vampire

• WWMG (Since Charlotte is part of it.)

• HHW (Halloween Horror Wrestling)

• Halloween Wrestling Championship

Occupation: Superstar Wrestler at Halloween Horror Wrestling, Butcher (Job at the Meat Market)

Locations:

• WWMG Arena

• HHW Arena

• Dark Forest (Where he can prowl and roam around in the moonlight. ^^)

• The Spider Web Mansion (Home)

Love Interest:

• Charlotte Spidersilk (Girlfriend/Wife)

Baby Daughter:

• Venus Spidersilk

Gallery:

#1:

Artemis Nightworg (Goosebumps: The Werewolf of Fever Swamp)

#2:

Artemis Nightworg (Oh, Canada!)

#3:

Artemis Nightworg (Just Desserts)

#4 (Comic) (Charlotte's Training):

[siren-meets]

Wait, so you're telling me the reason Peter Parker and Cindy Moon have this on-and-off, tense, possessive dynamic is because of spider hormones that make it hard for them to resist each other???

...that's the good shit

#peter parker #cindy moon #silk #spiderman #spidersilk #marvel comics #marvel

[bittcrblue]

For the wip game: Having read the drafts you posted for Killing Virgins, I am very curious about the ‘we need to talk about Leylas’ and ‘world’s worst meeting’ fics.

a) "world's worst meeting" is the meeting scene from killing virgins draft 1, that i'm reworking to fit into the larger bhh canon (the bhhanon, or perhaps the bhhcu, if you will) and it hasn't grown much since it was posted there, so i'll just give you a long snip for leylas!

b) we need to talk about leylas is about deirta, abrianna, quana and probably some OCs as well preparing to oust leylas kryn after she lost it from too much reincarnation soup. yes i know the comic is coming out yes i know that's not what happens but i've had this idea for months and you can pry it from my cold dead hands

Abrianna Mirimm’s fingers are gnarled and clawed, weighed down by the ancientness of her bones for all that she is not even a century old, in this life. When she pushes needle and thread through tapestry, the movements are slow and telegraphed, each gesture exactly what is needed. Deirta appreciates it more than she can say - her own stitches are smooth and fluid, never stopping, a river bubbling through a forest and singing all the way.

“To think that there are still things you can teach me,” she says with a smile.

Abrianna cackles with no teeth. Her humour, too, is new to this goblinoid lifetime of hers.

Deirta remembers when they first met - the brusque smuggler who never smiled, who transported cargo and refugees alike through the labyrinthine tunnels of the Spider Pits without fear. She had been terribly intimidated, then, still clad in her spidersilk raiments.

And to think that here they sit, two biddies spinning the fate of a civilisation between their fingers, elven and goblin hands moving in time. The loss of spider imagery is logical, given who they are, but this aspect - the spinning, the industry - is something that the Luxon, alas, lacks. Oh, they make up for it with potentiality, rebirth, the cycle of perfection, but there is something about hands and textiles that touches Deirta deeply.

“It’s been some time since we spun together, Dee,” says the Skysibil, and Deirta nods, fingers ever moving.

“Longer still since we sat we three, no?”

The gap between them where Leylas Kryn should sit looms empty.

“Something will have to be done about that one,” the Skysibil breathes, mournful.

#we need to talk about leylas #bhh #ask game #thanks for asking! #fic snips #caro wips #burned house horizon #caro replies

[vynnyal]

dumping my random thoughts, comic ideas, and wildly misinformed theories abt hk onto my victims: part 2!!! p clear what I was doing in some of these, lmao

btw if you have any input im very, super interested please feel free 2 share

"So who's the mother?" Grimm: "Mother? No, there was no mother." "Then how--?" grimm: "Mitosis, obviously." Cut to two panels of the person dissociating over what they imagine the process to be.

FUCKIN... ASEXUAL PRIDE GRIMM

Hornet yelling shaw instead of yeet or koby.

Hornet yelling git gud at inappropriate times in place of like... Actual Advice. Alt: jdghghf or when she gets nervous, as a distraction.

Her thinking of something cool to say while waiting outside the black egg temple. alt: her thinking so hard she almost misses her cue, making her flub; aka the reason she says somn more like "geddun" in-game. alt alt: thk and ghost sharing a blank look (mid-battle) and thinking "she flubbed" in disbelief.

Hornet and something with the "spidersilk paper" lemm mentioned, maybe using it to """document""" her day when she has time to spare. She insists it's not a diary, so don't even try.

Hornet grieving the little weavers.

(speedrun) "You wanna fight? Huh? Huh? Well I dont, bye"

Zote "I only saved you for the money" joke.

Quirrel pretending not to understand modern slang.

Quirrel... Dad jokes... Holy shit

FUCKIN... DAD BOD???

conifer appearing in increasingly absurd locations.

Quirrel playfully commenting on the uh... "information"... The tablets display. alt: he can actually read it just fine, but is coy abt telling ghost what it says.

rather than just appearing, Quirrel and ghost walk through the archives together, the mood bittersweet.

Hollow knight passing the time in the black egg lightheartedly.

Wyrm and root trying to argue but the height difference just makes them both laugh.

ghost appearing before Root, expectant, only for them to slowly realize she doesn't actually... care about them. or any of the vessels, really. she expects them to do their duty, her claims of shame apparently not deterring her away from the fate they were created for. alt: she acts like that not out of any kind of malevolence, but out of pure ignorance. It doesn't occur to her how much it costs the little vessels... Or that they even have anything to lose, at all.

Cut to the future after the bad end, as yet another fragile vessel appears before the queen, far too late to save anyone now.

Godmaster traitor lord battle, ghost walks in looking very nervous. Traitor looks smug, asking if they're afraid (of him), only for the next panel to show ghost sweating profusely as they have Fragile Flower Flashbacks. alt, they're imagining/being pressured by the ghost girlfriends glaring at them/wailing "WAIIII" in tendem.

Ghost asks how thk got so big, only for them to reveal their body is still the same size, and they're just controlling a big suit of armor like false knight. Jdbfjfgjr

its been pointed out the bee knight doesnt... actually have any wings to buzz with. the noises are entirely vocalized. The reason buzzy baby makes buzz noises is because he felt left out when he was a kid; the queen, seeking to comfort him, explains how he can create his very own buzz sounds using an alternative method, instead. Despite his battle prowess, his mind never matured, continuing up to his very last moments to make the habitual noises of his childhood.

(godmaster) having soul left over and fuckin SCREAMING in the faces of the nail masters just before the bench.

Defeating bee boy by one mask, relaxing for a sec, before realizing the bees are stILL COMING ACTUALLY,,,,

The aftermath of the sheo fight, ghost just DRIPPING with rainbow-colored paint.

ze'mer and her lover meeting in their dreams.

flower lesbos hanging out with the thorn husbos (nailmaster/sheo hfshh)

Team cherry hid the gays behind some of the hardest missions because, let's be honest, no homophobe would put that much effort into anything.

Quirrel saying "I've only had ghost for a day, but if anything happened to them I'd -" Cuts to ghost, shade over their body Quirrel: "..."

Messing with the hot springs... geysers? Idk 3 heads things. whats in there? How were they made? By the ancient civilization, maybe pale king? alt: finding quirrel relaxing casually inside one of the eyesockets instead of in the spring, lmao.

"I'd sure like to be a shade, like heck- they can fly, they can do that weird teleport thing, and they have-", turns to it, "- ALL MY MONEY!!!"

Ngl I still don't fully understand the relationship between ghost, their shell, and their shade, and should prolly read up before blabbing, but what is it that separates ghost's body from their shade? Or their shade from ghost, themself? We see in the dnm ending they can very much "control" their shade, as they voluntarily rip off their shell to release it. Or... Oh shit am I dumb? Did ghost kill themselves right then? Oh fuck did ghost die to let their shade kill the radience. Please tell me I'm wrong I'm really upset now yfjfihrufhgi

Gonna be honest the previous one was me trying to contextualize the concept of ghost being able to fly like shades do but now I'm just thinking abt ghost, fuck. Still. Imagine ghost n thk just, like, hovering towards people with their funky tentacle legs. Or better, no tentacles, they can just Do That. Establish your dominance, little vessels.

Ghost doing the superman "ripping off your shirt to shift into super-mode" thing except they just tear apart their shell. Alt: hornet: "that looks painful"

Broken vessel was stuck. Out of all the dead vessels we see- the one in greenpath, those hung in nosk's den, the floor of the abyss, even ghost themself- not one retained their body after death. Except, that is, for broken vessel. Something, somehow, was anchoring their shade to their shattered shell and keeping it there, unable to seep away and reunite with their siblings below. They weren't just another corpse. That was ghost's sibling.

Just what is a vessel's coak? From what I've seen of the sprites, it's clearly attached to their shells; some in nosk's den are even hung from them, with their shells dangling below it. It seems biological- by which I mean, not some sort of clothing or ambiguously god-based substance- which makes its selective decay rather odd. On one hand, in greenpath, nosk's den, and some specific corpses within the abyss, their cloaks have stayed firmly attached. On the other, we have countless shells left naked all over the place- even ghost's shell is like this. Of course we have to keep in mind ari prolly just didn't wanna animate that, but that's no fun. I don't really have a prompt or theory here, as nothing I come up with quite fits the bill... Just more of a thinkpiece, I suppose.

Nyooming past quirrel at blue lake, freeze frame of ghost and q sharing a startled look.

Ghost distracting sheo by making him gush over his artwork. alt, "winning" the battle by showing him something they made, and/or just having a paint-off. Ghost wins no matter what, obviously.

Ohhh... Ghost learning to express themselves through art...

Lurien secretly has multiple eyes, fit neatly in the one socket.

Appreciating the genius of the mimic grub room (the real grub's location is hard-coded. im still mad)

Hearing Hornet say "get down" instead of "git gud" and the connotations of that. alt: hearing "git gud" when she's actually saying "get down", being offended or otherwise reacting to that, before being promptly smacked in the face by whatever she was warning them abt.

Hornet doing weird, obscure spider things.

Ghost: WHAT is THAT?? uumuu: uumuu emoji face

Where does the shade get its sword? Is it a void-sword? Did they scavange it? Did they make it???

The actual guttural horror of falling into the centipedes in deepnest.

The irony of feeling incredibly sad and hurt at thk's pain, but absolute bloodlust for pure knight.

What was written upon the journal found with the corpse in ash at hollownest’s edge. Alt: h. how did ash even get up there.

#blabbing.txt #Thonking abt hollowknight #FDhbfjfhf I had to cut this post in half #Only true chads make long texts posts on mobile and of them I am king #Sorry abt the angst lma o.... idk whether to include them r not #I am so melodramatic and idk how not to be help

[cosplayawesomeofficial]

Credit to @cosplayflower (@get_regrann) - #MarvelMonday "ᵂᴴᴱᴺ ᵞᴼᵁ ˢᴱᴱ ᴹᴱ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᶜᴬᴸᴸ ᴹᴱ- ˢᴵᴸᴷ" ~Cindy Moon/Silk 🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️ 📸: @Jasonlaboyphotography 🕸️ Cindy Moon/Silk: @cosplayflower 🕸️ Silk suit: @zentaizone 🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️ #silk #cindymoonsilk #cindymooncosplay #cindymoon #cindymooncosplayer #cindymoonmarvel #cindymoonsilkcosplay #cindymoonmarvelcomics #cindymoonday #cindymooncosplays #cindymooncomic #cindymoonisbae #cindymoonfan #cindymooncostume #marvel #spidey #cosplay #beatiful #comic #cosplaygirl #cosplayer #marvelcomics #intothespiderverse #cosplayersofinstagram #cosplayphotography #instacosplay #spidersilk #thwip CPA ▫️ https://ift.tt/2JzRqpF ▫️ https://ift.tt/32lZjpb

#mycosplay #cosplay girl #cosplay girls #cos #cosplayer #cosplayers #cosplay game #cosplay #anime #ma

[praesidioest]

Prompto [ @stcrshell. ]  — continued from [ x. ]

❄} – this isn’t the sentence prompto is expecting to hear from gladio right now, with his lithe arms draped lazily over gladio’s wide shoulders. their size difference would be comical if it didn’t provide prompto with the most comfort he’s felt since the day nyx left him.

       he’s hitched high up on gladio’s waist, his legs locked around him to hold himself up high where he’s been touching soft, needy kisses to gladio’s forehead. a source of comfort since he’s moved out and lived alone, the idea of going through this without gladio is a thought that prompto loathes, a thought that he shivers at the thought of. disdained so much, in fact, that when gladio whispers his question, it makes prompto stiffen, and he slips slowly from gladio’s grip to sink to the floor. his heart goes with him, dropping into his stomach at the thought.

       “what do you mean?” he questions right back, his jaw already setting firm as he sets distance between himself and gladio. if he’s about to be hurt by another person he thought he could trust, then he’s going to hurt him first.

He lets him slip from his lap, fluid and fluent, like spidersilk through his fingers. He doesn’t try to catch him. If Prompto wants that space, Gladio will grant him that. But he leans in, brows drawn, the points of his elbows digging firmly into the bends of his knees. 

He sighs through his nose, bracing himself both for that flighty look Prompto’s already wearing, and the attempt he’s about to make to explain himself. It’s been difficult, finding a way to step artfully around Prompto’s red-raw broken heart that hasn’t quite mended itself after Nyx had gone. Gladio’s always assumed that was rather by choice. But he’s still always hoping that one day Prompto might get tired of clutching desperately to the phantom of love long lost, and the man who was willing to purge himself of its pull.

“I mean ....” he begins, and he’s aware of how mournful he looks. “I meant I’d like to do this properly. I feel like sometimes we jumped into things. Because it was convenient. Because it was what you needed. Because I was accommodating. But I’m half in love with you, Prompto. And I don’t ... I don’t want this to be the longest, most drawn-out rebound. I want to be with you. Really be with you. I want us to be in a relationship that isn’t just ... me feeling like a chocobo band-aid on a mortal wound. I want to be your rock. I want to be something to you. Mean something to you.” He holds out a hand, palm up. An invitation. “I want us to be together. I want to do this right.”

#stcrshell #am i ... am i doing this are pea thing righ #do i remember how to write replies #WO AI NI PLEASE AI WO BACK

[alakotila]

Orestes from my comic Spidersilk 

#floral shibari #lgbtq comics #fantasy comics #queer comics #queer creatives #webcomics #shibari #Spidersilk comic #Alakotila

[nattosoup]

Webcomic Promotion

If you want to advertise your comic or comic process, I take guest posts on Nattosoup Studio Art and Process Blog!  Comics focused on promoting a project (comic, Kickstarter, anthology) are super welcome- get in touch for details

Examples of what I’m looking for: Promoting a Webcomic: This guest post by @Sskessa is an excellent example of what I'm looking for- discussing your comic, sharing your process, inspiring other artists while attracting new readers: https://t.co/tvvRxXs0R9 This post by @kibou is also an excellent example of what I'm looking for in #webcomic promotional guest posts- readers learn how other artists work, find inspiration, learn about new processes, and discover that they've fallen in love with a comic: https://t.co/H0hgs2I7ZW Promoting a Kickstarter: This amazing guest post by @mdabaie shares process, inspiration, and behind the scenes work to help promote a Kickstarter graphic novel project: https://t.co/2oXwJJXY7L And this phenomenal guest post by @Alakotila on the ins and outs of printing professionally in grayscale could be a HUGE lifesaver to some artists- a wonderful way to promote the Kickstarter for Spidersilk's second volume: https://t.co/PhLs8GHZtp Posts are shared to my Twitter (over 2k followers), this Tumblr account, and on my Pinterest.  Guest post writers are highly encouraged to share the links on their own social media accounts as well.

#webcomic #webcomic promotion #free webcomic advertising #free webcomic promotion #how to promote your webcomic #promoting your comic

[alakotila-artblog]

Fairy Dance is complete! I got it on a 16x20 canvas print and it looks so good! It unexpectedly looked really great on a lot of products on RedBubble (which you can find here), even though I made it specifically for a gallery canvas print. ^_^ Here we have Voss, Anahi, and Kalevi of Spidersilk! [ Spidersilk | patreon | facebook | twitter ]

#fantasy art #fantasy webcomics #forest #Spidersilk #queer comics #Alakotila

[ashinan]

here we go on to day two of shiro week! prompt was original/divergent and I kind of just...merged the concept haha. anyway. enjoy dahlings!!

dreamless wave

There were multiple realities; this much was true. At least, in Shiro’s world this was true.

Back in school, he spent hours upon hours hating the concept. Multiple realities? That was comic book stuff. That wasn’t worth his time, his theorizing, though that didn’t stop Keith from slapping his hands on the table to debate the pants off Shiro. It was an indulgence amongst a course load stuffed to the brim with mathematics and calculations and star charts. He just didn’t have time to entertain the notion of something other than the farthest reaches of their solar system and how he could get there.

Keith once postulated that in an alternate reality, aliens had already come to Earth. They had been peaceful, had conquered, had shrugged and left. Every alternate reality was a new thread in the narrative of an infinite and impossible tapestry. A divergent from their original story, spidersilk thin and resonating. Shiro had rolled his eyes and shoved his palm over Keith’s mouth to shut him up. Keith had pressed his smile into Shiro’s skin.

And then Kerberos. And then the Galra.

 While captured, Shiro indulged in Keith’s favourite past time. He couldn’t technically explain it to the other aliens as the Galra hadn’t deemed it necessary to equip their captives with translators. But the words were familiar, a reminder of Keith’s smile and his excitement blooming pink over his cheeks, so Shiro talked.

Wove possibilities into thin air and took comfort in their fabrication. Sometimes, his fellow gladiators listened. Other times they just rolled over and ignored him.

In another reality, Shiro had made it back to Earth. In another reality, Shiro gave up in the ring. In another reality, Shiro was safe and warm and not fighting for his goddamn life.

Keith would be proud of him.

 The Black Lion was an outlier. She warped time to her will, altered the stream, fiddled with the concepts until they suited her needs. Shiro was only privy to a fraction of the Black Lion’s power. She purred when Shiro combed through her algorithms and laughed when he threw up his hands in distress. Sometimes, she allowed him a small peek into her world, the stained glass sprawl of purple and starlight. Sometimes, she allowed him to wander, to ask his questions and to give quiet answers in return.

Sometimes, Shiro saw - others.

The Black Lion lived outside of time. She also lived between realities. The fabric of reality was skewed in her world, in her purple starlit kingdom of reflective glass and distant horizons. Beneath Shiro’s feet, alternate Shiros walked. Cast into starlight were multiple Black Lions fighting multiple battles. Dashed into the horizon was a reality that Shiro couldn’t begin to comprehend and that Black quietly nudged him away from.

Sometimes they weren’t even Shiros that he saw - sometimes, he witnessed Zarkon walking, quieter, softer, less broken. Sometimes it was Keith, devastated and hard. Sometimes it was no one - a reality where Black was never made and a Paladin was not required. He hated those empty pathways.

The Black Lion confirmed Keith’s theory of multiple realities. She destroyed the theory on time and relativity and the physics of the universe drawn in mathematical equations. She played with the world Shiro had grown up studying, scratching his knowledge into ribbons and replacing it with leagues of her own memories. She opened her mind to him. She shared.

Shiro dipped his toes into the Black Lion’s world. Her realities were his realities. She purred. And Shiro smiled.

#voltron #shiroweek2017 #sheith #andy writes #my fic #ooh rah #day 2: original/divergent #ftw #its mild sheith but its still there haha

[loli-studio]

I don’t do fanart very often but these are characters from some amazing creators. Top Left: Jason from There’s no such thing as Jason by ᴘʜᴇɴʏʟᴋᴇᴛᴏɴᴜʀɪᴄs Top Center: Sohrab from Spidersilk by Alakotila, Top Right: Ray from The Angel with Black Wings by Mharz

Bottom Left: Lyall from Zenchav by DracoPlato, Bottom Centre: Hiroto from Final Light by  BraveHeartTatsumaki and Yuki from my comic Kami Element

#zenchav #spidersilk #finallight #tabw #fanart #webcomics #tapas #kami element

[theslashpile]

Rec: Spidersilk

Title: Spidersilk Author: Pamela Kotila (Alakotila) Format: Webcomic Published/Free: Free. Two volumes available for purchase on Kickstarter Length: 20 chapters and counting Status: WIP Rating: Teen Warnings: Torture in flashbacks, combative violence, and sexual references Link: https://tapastic.com/series/Spidersilk Summary: Prentice, a former soldier struggling with events a year before the story’s start, is introduced to a city’s criminal system by new friends. Attacks during his training reveal threads to a large trap for their system. Review: Spidersilk is Social Fantasy. While the primary relationship is a sweet romance between a warrior-mage and a golden-hearted thief, the story follows other relationships, most notably friendships and chosen family. Because of the interwoven story lines, I feel as if the comic’s title is as descriptive of the story’s structure as the network of criminals accepted by the city.

The large cast can be hard to follow, especially when background characters are referred to by name. Original character designs makes remembering the big players easier. It’s obvious their creator cares about showing their unique identities.

One aspect I really appreciate about the cast is the mix of masculinity and femininity in the characters. After jumping in from a reading break, remembering the gender of the secondary characters can be a challenge but it ultimately doesn’t matter. They treat each other differently based on skill, affiliation, and attraction rather than on gender.

The characters are beautiful. All of them. I suspect every reader develops a crush on at least one character. It’s not only their pretty faces, lean bodies, lush hair, and intricately-drawn clothing; many of the characters have lovely personalities. Excepting the occasional racist guard and mysterious strangers attacking the city’s system, the characters are accepting, supportive, and interesting.

I wouldn’t mind living in their world.

There’s both beauty and humor. The physical humor is actually what first hooked me. This summoned creature called Ambassador is a big contributor. He seems to change size to loom threateningly or to offer up hugs. He has to share the funny moments with a guard llama (my favorite), an owl, and even clothing as an impromptu weapon.

That this comic is culturally rich is quickly apparent. While Prentice (and the reader) is introduced to the city of Kalviva. The clash and blend of cultures from outside the city adds to the rich tapestry of the world.

Speaking of, I wish for a faster-moving plot. That’s because I’m more action-oriented and more interested in the main couple than any of their friends and allies. More patient readers might delight in the time spent exploring the side relationships.

What many of us fans have in common is that we wait like spiders, ready to pounce on each new page.

#rec #submission #by: alakotila #by: pamela kotila #webcomic #free #published #status: wip #rating: teen #!action/adventure #!asexual #!assassins/hitmen #!bisexual #!bodyguards #!criminals #!demons #!espionage #!established relationship #!fairies/fae #!fantasy #!fluff #!friendship #!humor #!magic users #!magical creatures #!martial arts #!mental disorder #!military #!poc main character #!poly

[recentanimenews]

My Week in Manga: February 6-February 12, 2017

My News and Reviews

Last week at Experiments in Manga I posted the Bookshelf Overload for January–it was kind of a strange month for manga and other media acquisitions for me, but it wasn’t as absurd as December so at least my wallet’s a little happier. I also managed to finish my draft for February’s in-depth review, so I should have that cleaned up and posted sometime later this week.

Last week I came across a few interesting things online related to queer manga, comics, and other media. Massive has now released Jiraiya’s Two Hoses in English, a manga telling the story of “The Greatest Couple,” characters who were initially designed for the company as part of its launch. (Massive has released Jiraiya’s Caveman Guu manga, too, which was subsequently collected in the excellent anthology Massive: Gay Erotic Manga and the Men Who Make It.)

I haven’t had a chance to actually listen to it yet, but the most recent ANNCast focused on LGBT representation in manga and anime with guests Erica Friedman, Jason Thompson, and Valerie Complex. Friedman also visited the University of Michigan back in January to discuss queer manga. The recording of her presentation Alt Manga, Queer Manga: Telling Our Own Stories is now available to watch on YouTube.

There were a few Kickstarter campaigns that caught my attention last week as well. First and foremost, Chromatic Press is raising funds to release the final volume of Lianne Sentar’s series Tokyo Demons in print, produce a revised edition of the first novel, as well as reprint the other books in the series. It isn’t a secret that I am a huge fan of the series, so I definitely want to see the project succeed. Tabula Idem is a great-looking tarot-themed queer comics anthology with an accompanying queer-themed major arcana tarot deck. I’m not very familiar with most of the artists involved, but Kaiju (whose comics I greatly enjoy) is contributing the cover illustration. Pamela Kotila has also launched a campaign to print the second volume of the webcomic Spidersilk. Though I haven’t actually read it yet, I recently picked up the first volume so this project seems to be aptly-timed.

Quick Takes

The Ancient Magus’ Bride, Volumes 4-6 by Kore Yamazaki. It’s been a little while since I’ve read The Ancient Magus’ Bride but that’s not because I don’t like the manga. In fact, it’s quite the opposite–The Ancient Magus’ Bride is actually one of my favorite series currently being released in English. I simply wanted to have a whole stack of volumes to read all at once. (Also worth noting: The first printing of Volume 6 is even accompanied by a special booklet with an additional comic!) Somehow, I had managed to forget just how much I enjoy The Ancient Magus’ Bride. I love its moody atmosphere and setting, beautiful artwork, and intriguing characters. Elias remains something of an enigma although parts of his past have now been revealed. He isn’t particularly happy about this development, though. Likewise, more is known about Chise, too, although she is still hesitant to share. The relationship dynamics in The Ancient Magus’ Bride are somewhat peculiar but remain compelling. Most of the characters in the manga are struggling with some sort of heartbreaking loneliness or feelings of isolation. To see them slowly drawing closer together, forming bonds of friendship, family, and love is immensely satisfying.

Mr. Mini Mart by Junko. Although the boys’ love manga Mr. Mini Mart was released in English first, my introduction to Junko’s work was through the series Kiss Him, Not Me. Because I was enjoying that series, I made a point to track down a copy of Mr. Mini Mart which for a time had gone out-of-print. (It’s more-or-less back in print again, but the manga seems to only be available directly from Juné Manga’s online store.) I forget why I initially passed on Mr. Mini Mart but I’m very glad that I finally got around to reading it. Mr. Mini Mart collects two boys’ love stories. Most of the volume is devoted to the titular “Mr. Mini Mart” but a short, unrelated one-shot manga “Young Scrubs” is included as well. It’s not nearly as good, though. “Mr. Mini Mart” is wonderful and surprisingly sweet. The story follows the high-school-aged Nakaba who, after an unfortunate incident in middle school, has been living as a shut-in. He gets finally gets out of the house when his uncle gives him a job at his store, but Nakaba has a difficult time getting along with his coworker Yamai and his abrasive personality. I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for a sensitive tough guy and it turns out that Yamai is an amazing example of one and is just a great person in general.

The Seven Princes of the Thousand-Year Labyrinth, Volume 1 written by Yu Aikawa and illustrated by Haruno Atori. I really wanted to like the first volume of The Seven Princes of the Thousand-Year Labyrinth more than I actually did. The basic premise is intriguing. A group of some of the kingdom’s most noteworthy, and in some cases most notorious, citizens wake up to find themselves trapped together in an elaborately booby-trapped castle. (The exception is the protagonist Ewan whose only distinguishing characteristics are his trusting nature, inherent kindness, and the fact that he’s from the kingdom’s most remote island.) The assumption is that whoever manages to survive the ordeal will become the kingdom’s emperor and reigning lords. There is a ton of potential in this set up, but The Seven Princes of the Thousand-Year Labyrinth simply didn’t work for me. Mostly I think it’s because the characters all come across as types rather than well-rounded individuals. What’s more is that they don’t even feel like they should all be a part of the same series; I found this lack of cohesiveness to be frustrating. The artwork is pretty, though, if not especially distinctive and there are plenty of plot twists, too.

Tomie by Junji Ito. Although uncommon, license rescues aren’t particularly rare, but Ito’s horror series Tomie is one of the very few manga to have been released in English by three different publishers. Most recently, Viz Media has collected the entire series in a single, massive tome with over seven hundred forty pages. The translation used is the same as the one in Dark Horse’s Museum of Terror series which I own, but I couldn’t resist the deluxe, hardcover treatment the volume received to match Viz’s other recent re-releases of Ito’s manga. Tomie was actually Ito’s award-winning professional debut and began serialization in 1987 in a shoujo magazine. The manga is largely episodic although there may be several chapters devoted to a single story arc and later stories sometimes make passing references to earlier ones. What ties the series together is the presence of Tomie, a beautiful young woman who is seemingly immortal. Time and again men fall desperately in love with Tomie and are eventually overcome by a desire to murder and dismember her. Not only does Tomie survive, she regenerates and multiplies, and so the horror continues. While not as mind-bendingly bizarre as some of Ito’s later works, Tomie is still weird, horrifying, gruesome, and grotesque.

By: Ash Brown

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf