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#also wanted to try some more muted colors bc i adore art like that... but my own colors are often brighter
artist-rat · 2 years
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drew @artharakka​’s d&d character, Rhiam, for her bday <3
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goldafterglow · 4 years
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embellished lungs
Summary: Ezra buys a pretty thing for a pretty thing.
Request: hc about what renders Ezra speechless 😶 - @lose-eels (this is not even what you asked for but fuckin here ig im sorry sgkfjdshg)
Pairing: Ezra x reader
Word Count: 2.6k+
Warnings: a big fat drabble?, very really soft, not beta read and tbh barely even normal read i read this maybe twice oops
Author’s Note: i almost put this just like under the ask but I’m not gonna sit here and act like this is a drabble bc i’m a clown. i don’t want to talk about it. and spitting this out bc I was soft for Ezra and @mrpascals made me
Gif Cred: my wife and my baby @pascalplease
masterlist | taglist modifications
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He spies it in the open market while he’s stocking up on supplies.
The day is hot, the Sun bearing down on its disciples with a violent red fury, but it’s light is strong, bright. Everything is reflective, hot to the touch from boiling in the heat, and all of the creatures begin to melt together like dyed wax to form one big discernable blob, if you really squint. Ezra’s sweat escapes the barrier of his brows and leaks past his lashes, dragging across his eyes and stinging a little, blurring his vision and dripping onto his arms, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too exhilarated.
The market in itself is absolutely brilliant to him; he’s always been enthralled by this, by people and pretty things, and to be completely surrounded by both felt like something akin to sensory overload. His heart is racing at the sight of people traversing the dirt road, loitering and browsing through produce colored so vibrantly he wonders if the bright red apples and deep indigo berries have been dipped in the tinted glow of fairies that dance in the forest. And he’s utterly taken by the art and trinkets. He’s always had a little soft spot for art - a tender, exposed section of his beating flesh that is so sensitive, so delicate and so easy to provoke. And right now, he seems like he’s subject to a battering ram, pounding against his chest in the best way possible.
His eyes dart around quickly as he tries his best to take everything in. He finds himself cherishing every little interaction, every stranger whose shoulder he is forced to brush in an attempt to make his way through the market, every vendor that begs to him, calls to him to try “just one last berry sir. I’m sure your lover will be delighted by the raspberries from yesterday’s harvest.” He ended up buying a quaint six ounces just so that he could feed them to you. But that would be a treat for later.
And just like that, he is thinking of you. The prettiest, most beautiful thing. A sculpture with imperfections so perfect that he knows it must have taken eons to craft you out of gold and diamonds and the soft fluff of hummingbird feathers and butterfly wings. You are art, a walking, breathing, touchable piece that he gets to admire up close. It’s a privilege, really, to have been gifted with Kevva’s finest handiwork.
As his pupils peruse the stands, admiring his surroundings, they suddenly become frozen in place, permanently stuck on a little trinket that’s caught his attention: a necklace. The gem sitting in the center isn’t aurelac; it’s much more vibrant, much more dramatic and almost rainbow when he looks at it from different angles. The chain isn’t long, and knowing you the gem would fall right between your collarbones. He can already envision you wearing it, like a child flicking watercolors onto the Venus de Milo, but he wants to see his deep green paint draped around your shoulders. The way he sees it when you wear his clothing, when you’re adorned with bruises of his passion like stars adorn the sky, when you wear him. It’s intoxicating, seeing that he’s had any impact on your life and that you parade it around like a trophy. That you think about him without him prompting you to do so - not that he isn’t constantly in your presence. But he wants to buy it just so that he can see you wear it. Perhaps even only wear it.
He’s already thinking about how fucking gorgeous you would look in it. He is thinking about putting it on you, tugging on it ever so lightly in a way that signals to you - that is, rather than exerting any true force on you - that he wants a kiss. Perhaps pulling on it a little harder so that metal bites your skin and you can feel it, feel him digging into the soft flesh of your neck. Now he’s imagined a thousand scenarios in which he can have his way with you just by getting you to wear this piece, and he has to purchase it.
When the vendor finally hands it to him, packaged with care and placed deep into the hollow of a black velvet box, he finds that it barely fits in his pocket. He doesn’t care, though, because it’s too exquisite an accessory to be thrown in with the other supplies and it’s too precious for him to take it out of the box. He’s excited when he comes back to the pod, back home where you are.
Home is you.
He assumes you must’ve heard him come in, the pod door loud and rambunctious as he dumps the bags into the center of the pod space and then crawls in himself - it was hard enough with two arms, nonetheless one. He lets out a sight as if to let the excitement drain out his vessels and into the atmosphere of the cockpit, mingling with the peace and solitude to create a soft buzz that zings through his ears and vibrates his eyes. The exhilaration from being the market was utterly electric, but he is home now. He can crawl into you, let you absorb into him, and he likes how you can make his heart race a million miles and yet also pacify him, a cold compress to his aching soul to help reduce inflammation. He wants to maintain that semblance of the intricate pastel harmony, adorned in lilac and peach hues. So he stands in the middle of the cockpit and closes his eyes, lets himself sway to the rhythm of his lungs for a moment. Just a fraction of solitude, and he doesn’t mind because ever since he met you he has never felt lonely, not even when he’s alone. He always feels you with him.
Once his head has cleared, he palms at his pocket where the little black box still resides, as if to check that he hadn’t dreamt up some fantasy ornament that would look so perfect on you. It’s still there; of course it is, and he feels foolish for thinking that the pretty butterflies would have fluttered it out and flown it away, but sometimes he wonders if the same thing will ever happen to you. If one morning he will wake up and you will have migrated with the birdies, off to seek true warmth because you’re not real, because nothing so good as you could ever be caged by him.
He steps into your shared bedroom and spies you with your back to the entrance. The room is cool, but you’ve elected to wear his shirt, even foregoing pants. His favorite outfit of yours, and he knows you know it. You’re wearing headphones, something he’d picked up for you on your last supply run, and he can tell you’re playing one of those instrumental stations you so adore listening to when you were working. A mutely-colored map is stretched out onto the desk, and he’s not even sure you can focus the music because your mind is moving faster than your poor hand can keep up as you mark up a new dig site. He almost feels bad for interrupting you while you’re in such deep concentration, your forehead smashed into wrinkles without even noticing, but Ezra cannot resist his greed for your attention. Ever so gently, he places his hand on your shoulder from behind so as not to startle you.
You almost immediately register the delicate touch, turning the radio off and pulling your headphones off your ears so you can give this kind artist your undivided attention - Kevva herself knows he's earned it. You turn your head to face him, craning your neck back so you can take his softly smiling depiction like pressing a plush blanket into your face.
“Hey, pretty boy,” you coo, letting your pen fall tumultuously from your hand. The sound of it clanging against the table and then rolling around to a stop fills the room, but you can’t hear it; Ezra is talking now.
“Hey, sweet stardust,” he greets back, voice orange and warm like the heat that simmers under the stars during the summer at midnight.
Comfortable.
 “Hey” was never his preferred salutation, and he’d tried to omit it from his vocabulary for so long, but he started to notice that he likes it when you say to him. Like a little pearl of your voice, so sweet like honey with the honeycomb still mixed in, a little grainy and so cheeky.
“Did you get everything we need?” you ask, beginning to stand to that you can press a hand to his chest, grounding him to the pod and to your sanctuary soul. Ezra grins wide, unable to hide his excitement at your words.
“I in fact exceeded our needs, sweet rose bud,” he says with a pride that fills up your chest and makes you want to hold him tight because you love when he gets giddy like this, with the childlike enthusiasm of showing your parents the shitty drawing you made or your ugly macaroni art. Ezra is light, his tone airy. “I happened to spot a gem that reminded me of your vision and I couldn’t resist the urge to get it.”
You brow furrows a little, not out of confusion but out of curiosity. Ezra’s taste has always inspired you, and you knew his never ending quest for art is always in an attempt to find beauty in everything. You don’t even have to look at it to know that it will be stunning because his stamp of “pretty” approval is your gold standard.
He pulls the box out and opens it facing you so that you can get a good look, really admire it, and you are already taken by the shimmering pendant.
“Oh Ezra, it's - it’s utterly magnificent,” you gush, and he can spot that little glimmer in your eyes that you get when you’re looking at something that you’re enamored with; they way you look when you’re gazing at him. You raise your chin to look at him, his cheeks rosy with delight and sweet eyes crinkled at the corners. “Put it on me.”
It’s not so much of a demand as it is a gentle instruction; you know he wants to, know he’s been thinking about it since he bought it, and you want to be open to him. You want to invite him into your heart, inside of the flower garden of your chest, with open arms because he deserves to feel wanted.
You help him pull the chain out of the bottom of the box, keeping one end in your right hand and letting him take the clasp in his left. He wills himself to move slowly, to savor every little stimulation you send through his skin as he steps behind you. His fingers press against your clavicle, tracing along the bone before traveling up over the valley of your shoulder, tips of his hands brushing against your throat. He is feeling you, mapping out your body because he’ll never get to see an angel in his life but he’s certain you must be the spitting image.
You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and intoxicating as a small film of dampness coats your exposed back and neck. Your right hand rests at the nape of your neck, waiting expectantly, but you don’t rush him. He takes his sweet, sugary time, because the surface of your skin feels like he’s running his fingers through a field of silicone needles, firm but harmless as they stimulate a sensation he never knew he could feel before he touched you for the first time. You’re addictive, the best high he’s ever gotten, and he almost lets his hand lose all abandon and travel so carefully down the front of your body, palming your breast along the way and pressing right into your diaphragm before he keeps going down, down, down…
Almost.
But he will save it for a later time, especially since he’d been fantasizing about you wearing the necklace like a carefully chiseled bust is adorned with sashes. So finally, after what feels like hours of roaming and teasing, you feel that calloused, worn sensation of your lover’s fingers seeking solace against yours. You pin your breath to your lungs, not daring to let it go as you wait for the heavy release of his hand indicating that the necklace is secure. But even once you feel it, even as you let your right hand fall down at your side, Ezra does not take his hand off of you. You don’t want him to.
Slowly, so that he never has to cease his touch, you turn to face him. You’re still looking down at the pendant, in awe of how the gem rests so perfectly between your collarbones. You can’t see Ezra’s adoring gaze, his completely awestruck fixation on how ethereal you are to him. Like you’re emitting a golden glow, too hot to touch and yet begging, inviting his fingers to feel and press and hold. 
Celestial.
He feels his emotions expand in his stomach, diaphragm threatening to spasm. His hand trails up to your chin, palming your jaw as he tenderly lifts your line of sight so that he can see your pretty eyes.
“You’re divine,” he mumbles to you, not wanting to disrupt the tight silence, so tense he’s afraid of speaking too loud lest it break and snap against his cheek leaving an angry raised brand.
Overwhelmed with appreciation, you balance your hands on his shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting it linger so you can savor the honeysuckle dew on his skin. “I love it,” you whisper with a grin.
Ezra giggles.
When you pull back to face him proper, his face is utterly red. His smile reaches the lobes of his ears, bashful and boyish like his belly has just been tickled by the sweetest of baby chicks, and he can barely get a word out. He can’t speak. His mind is in overdrive, completely inundated with a blistering adoration for you and your approval because you said you loved it. His gift is not a splash of children’s watercolors; it is a clean swipe of gold running along your jaw, accenting your beauty and emphasizing just how exquisite you are to him.
“Yeah?” he managed, a soft giggle still passing his lips like the first cries of a baby deer, the first flutters of a newly hatched butterfly.
Adorable.
You can’t resist the urge to giggle back, placing a hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a true kiss on his glittery lips. It only lasts seconds, however, because Ezra can’t stop smiling and you can’t stop giggling, so you both settle for the blissful solitude of pressing your foreheads against one another, breathing in each other's air and taking up the same space.
“It’s gorgeous, Ezra. Thank you,” you whisper lightly so that the wisps of air tickle his upper lip, and suddenly he is so inclined as to press his left arm into the small of your back so that you’re so much closer and kiss you the way you deserve; a dynamic series of long, deep, searing kisses that send you to the clouds and drop you into an endless pit of lavish fluff at the same time. You don’t know how he does this, makes you feel like you don’t exist and that there isn’t anything in the world but you and him, and you often wonder if it’s because Ezra is within you, or that your broken parts and his broken parts make some hauntingly majestic sculpture of its own; something better than the fucking Venus de Milo or Athena or Great Sphinx because it should be something so hideous and yet it feels to utterly priceless to you.
It’s precious.
ppl that asked to be tagged: @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @cryptkeepersoul @buckstaposition @the-feckless-wonder @cocoatales @agentpike @cryptkeepersoul
ppl that did not ask no ma’am no sir: @ergotautology @dindjarindiaries @pascalplease​
again, you can join/leave my taglist here :)
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stargazer-balladeer · 3 years
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Hiii, can I have a matchup eheh.
Erm to start off...
Physical Appearance:
-She/her
-I'm short, specifically 153 cm
-I tend to look very cold and my normal look looks like I'm mad or annoyed
-I also dress in very comfortable clothing. I hate anything revealing but if I want to dress up a bit, I prefer Dark Academia aesthetic with nude,brown, and usually very muted colors.
Main personality:
-I have bad temper tbh((But not REALLY bad, I'm just easy to annoy.)) to people I'm not very close with
-Talkative but I becomevery silent((Its not a bad sign, I'm actually a big introvert and I was just making myself talk for the sake of entertaining someone but brrr brrr I get tired EASILY.))
-But I try to be friendly but it always ends up as me being looked at as cold, aloof and nonlachant even if I tried my hardest to look warm and inviting
-But when you get close to me((Also based on people close to me)), my personality is actually bubbly and cute, very childlike
-I like to keep my hands occupied so I tap, poke or fiddle around a lot
-I love to give support and I tend to be clingy and condtantly give hugs every here and there((Unless I feel like that person...Hates me))
-I become very open with my positive stuff and a bit wild, I have bad humor but I still try my best to be funny.
Bad traits:
-EHEH I'M ALWAYS A L W A Y S BROKE
-I'm blunt. Like REALLY blunt. I have this vibe like. "Do I look like I care?" And I'm sarcastic by nature.
-I'm straightforward in my opinions, but most of the time. I watch from the back so I can analyze what's wrong to form my opinion.
-I have mood swings. A minute ago I'm in high spirits and then a second later I'm in a very SOUR mood which leads me to being VERY sarcastic.
-I neglect my feelings a lot. I move by logic, not by heart. I think my feelings are very impulsive and unreasonable so I ignore them
-I have a bad habit of getting myself hurt. I am also unable to even take care of myself.
-If I'm hurt, I take it as a joke and laugh it off even if it's serious
-I overthink a lot
-I have bad anxiety, I palpitate a lot and I also have breathing problems. I am also prone to headaches and random body aches.
-Prone to mental breakdowns and panic attacks or just being sick for no reason and unable to digest anything
-I always keep my emotions in a locked cage.
-I'm scared of commitment((But that doesnt mean I'm not loyal))
-I cry way too easily.
-I have no confidence in myself.
-I...Tend to be Sadistic sometimes.
Hobbies:
-DRAWING. FOR THE SAKE OF ARTS, I WILL DO A N Y T H I N G. ABSOLUTELY A N Y T H I N G. ((Even if I'm broke but ya)) Drawing is my passion. So I am very devoted in it.
-Reading
Things I really want to have/experience:
-Somewhere quiet and peaceful. Specifically the woods.
-I also hate the sun a LOT so I want to be somewhere dimly lit and a bit cold
-My own room decorated with art supplies and bookshelves. Also PLUSHIES.((Pls I cant sleep without them))
-ANYTHING SWEET
-P O T A T O E S
-Walking on parks/Forests
-late night walks somewhere with some fireflies or somewhere I can just lay down to do some stargazing
-I like flowers a lot too, ((My favourite flowers are Hydrangea, Hyacinthus and wisteria trees))
-Wear more fashionable clothing
-Have someone to cuddle with and I wont be bothered by the thought of that person not wanting comfort
-Have someone I can be weak and strong for
-Someone who can understand my random moods.
-also maybe someone who can just straight up help me about my carelessness
If in a relationship:
-I'm not demanding. I know when the other needs space. But I'm open when they need comfort.
-I'm touch starved but I'm shy on letting that side out. I'm scared of my s/o thinking that it's annoying.
-I'm not good at flirting and I'm easily embarassed
-I'll do anything for them, I'm willing to loose face just so I can protect them.
-Not the best at giving advice but I will be there to comfort my s/o
-I'm scared of commitment but I'm loyal to the other. It'll take time before I fully let them inside my heart.((Having betrayed multiple times made me very scared okay))
-I make poems and letters to express my adoration
-But if I open my heart, I'm willing to give the world to them
-I tend to be whiney sometimes, just for attention if I know my s/o is not that busy or tired.
-I am slighty good at massaging heads, shoulders, and hands so I'll massage my s/o a lot out of habit since I hate having my hands not move.
Fears:
-I am afraid of being inside in the dark ALONE.
-I am afraid of drowning
-B U G S ((I only approve Butterflies.))
-L I Z A R D S((I swear I will S C R E A M.))
-Snakes ((They make me unable to function because of so much fear. They give me palpitations so N O P E))
-Being left alone
-Betrayed
-Forgotten
AAAAA IM SORRY IF ITS SO LONG AIDHWBDBS ;___;
Love,, as much as I want to match you up, you forgot some important parts in how to request. I dont see which fandom you want me to match you with, your sexuality, if you have any characters you dislike or dont want to be matched with, etc etc. please read the how to request thing bc i already forgot what else is in there-
Please follow it love ;w;
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shadowtongued · 5 years
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DISCLAIMER; THIS HAS BEEN IN THE MAKING SINCE DEC 2017, I was just too shy to post it. Keep in mind that I'm not in any way, shape, or form trying to put my headcanons or interpretation of lore over anyone else's and this is pretty much just a general long-form run down for my roleplay blog to help people who aren't familiar with RS, so for my non-RS friends it's more of an explanation of how this 'tall ancient magic alien man' is and works. Physiology and some other cultural blurbs with the occasional emphasis on Sliske, because, well, that's what my roleplay blog is for. This is also mostly a passion project since I'm pretty fixated on this, if you read this at all, kudos to you and ily, ty for coming to my Ted Talk about this. Special thanks to people/friends who put up with me ranting abt this obscure fandom and helped me flesh out headcanons, and @theresiidentdevil  the artwork that i commissioned that i use way too much bc devil really... really did my version of snek man nice. Other imgs used are scrounged from ja.gex’s concept arts and etc. ONCE AGAIN THIS IS NOT CANON, AND JUST MY PERSONAL HYPOTHESIS, feel free to reblog but please don’t like... edit or try to give me heavy crit or come @ me with some lore bit from so-and-sos tweet that I am wrong and am a doodoo head or something. This was just a spot o’ fun and please don’t try to drag my interpretation or expunge this for laughs on the official lore discord. I’ve seen it done before and it’s not cool. individual creative interpretation is beautiful, mob bullying is not.
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To kick things off, the Mahjarrat are one of a few ancient tribes that live on the ash, lava, and stone wasteland that makes up the dead planet of Freneskae. They are highly skilled in magic and intellect by nature, as well as living by a firm form of kratocracy; a government by those who are strong enough to seize power through coercive power, social persuasion, or deceptive cunning. Along with this, their survival revolves around two rituals, one of death and sacrifice, the other of life and breeding. That right there should tell you a LOT about them, socially.  
HEIGHT.
Height varies from Mahjarrat to Mahjarrat, they are always going to be towering over most species, and most humans, as lore states that they generally are 1.5x the average human height. Sans that one wild ass gene of hyper height that makes gargantuan Mahjarrat like Lucien and Zemoregal, who tower over even Azzanadra's spike pope hat. Sliske himself stands at an 8′4 height, but that's just my headcanon for this blog's sake.
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SKULLS / BONES.
The Mahjarrat have thick skulls, if this wasn't pretty obvious with the additions of dual lines of bony ridges running parallel from the brow to back of the skull, and lower. Some, but not all individuals have rather, short horns as their 'first ridge' before normal ridges. They also seem to have a subtle browbone ridge above each eye. Sliske, as well as some of the canon Mahjarrat we know, have these short horns and I like to exaggerate them a bit as sharp and more obvious, because who doesn't love horns? I'd imagine there are also ridges across other parts of their bodies such as the shoulders, elbows, knees, smaller ones on the knuckles, and perhaps down the back and along the hips. Go wild. Anyways, their skulls are thick and heavy, as in if it comes down to having to head-butt someone at the sacrificial ritual as a last resort physical conflict when magic is exhausted, someone is going to be using every exploit they can to survive. Anything counts when your life is on the line. 
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*above concept art is of their lich-like forms. good for seeing skull shapes.
Most also have rather large jawbones and powerful jaw muscles, and have a decent bite force to clamp down; like above, can and will use the force of their jaws if they have to with a good 1,069 psi (pounds per square inch), a little less than a hyena, meaning they can break bones with enough force. The main reasoning for this is their powerful mandible adductor muscles and the leverage needed to keep their jaw closed in their lich-like forms with the loss of skin and some atrophy, when they begin to run low on energy before every 500 years ( more on this later ), otherwise their toothy jaws would be hanging open and they'd look quite silly. It's quite rare for a Mahjarrat to bite unless as a last resort attack, out of spite when healthy ( almost as if saying 'you are weak and aren't worth the waste of magical energy' ), or for other minute reasons. Males tend to have very pronounced 'spikes' on their chins and larger skull ridges, but it's not completely unheard of a female having a 'spiked' chin and larger ridges. Sexual dimorphism isn’t too well explained or solidified by Jagex, we haven’t really seen much due to the few living Mahjarrat we see.
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TEETH / CONSUMPTION.
personal interpretation of sliske’s teeth here.
Speaking of teeth, Mahjarrat have exceedingly sharp teeth for being part of a race that is not carnivorous or needing any sustenance at all. They have more teeth than humans (not really canon, just my personal interpretation, I prefer them being very Alien over ‘grey human reskin’); while almost every tooth has a sharpness to it, be it incisors or tines in the molars. Their front teeth seem to be ridged with smaller points, you probably don't want to get nipped by them, even if it's just playful or affectionate (uh, whatever they deem as affection). It's a real shame that Sliske seems to enjoy this, in the few moments he puts on a faux air of affection to scratch an itch or when deciding to use seduction as a ploy to further his manipulation or intel gathering, among other rare, convoluted feelings towards someone he's 'affectionate' with. Teeth shape and sizes can vary due to the Mahjarrat way of breeding and eugenics to create survivability through offspring on what traits work. Basic Darwinism, tbh. Following my ever favorite serpent motif for Sliske, you can expect his teeth to be pretty ophidian/snake-like. Due to my headcanon to their dark blood color, Mahjarrats may have dark or black gums. Small addition: babs do have sharp defensive baby teeth that fall out into hellish adult ones. Nice.
Mahjarrat do not need to eat or drink, as they are fueled fully by an arcane energy that they receive from rituals, and slowly deplete this over several centuries. Their power can last even longer if an individual is stingy with their power, or unaware of their power like Kharshai, who spent several centuries in a human guise hardly using any energy while unaware he was even a Mahjarrat. Despite not needing sustenance, it's not unheard of for Mahjarrat to attempt eating or drinking for whatever reason, be it pleasure or to emulate others. Hazeel's memories almost adorably describe some Mahjarrat attempting to sit and politely eat with humans to 'bond with them', despite them later having to regurgitate what they had eaten and Hazeel's repulsion at any creature eating at all. Several lore snippets include Zamorak enjoying wine and in Kindred Spirits, Sliske making the comment he may be drunk after downing the contents of a bottle. Whether or not they actually can become inebriated or have any sort of digestive system to even mildly uptake anything is debatable. For headcanon's sake, I like to think Sliske has no issue with pleasure eating and for taste, especially chocolate, fully knowing he'll have to bring it back up later. Most Mahjarrat have tongues that can be dark in color to only slightly brighter due to their dark blood color. Like horns, some end up with a slightly bifurcated tongue tip, some do not and have a single, sharp tip. Sliske is an extreme mutated case and has a very obvious black, snake-like, forked tongue. Just don’t ask him to do the thip thip because he won’t.
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(WHERE’D YA GET THOSE) EYES / SENSES.
Usually, A Mahjarrat's eyes correspond to the color of the jewel embedded in their crown, but not always. They have very, keen eyes and their eyesight is exceptional to suit the darkness of Freneskae due to the constant ashfall and cloud cover. They can see short distances, but farther into heavy smoke and ash than most species, and can indeed see in the dark with excellent night vision and have a structure similar to an animal's tapetum lucidem, which is what reflects light and makes that eerie glare you see from animals in the dark. Due to spending a lot of time on Freneskae and being well adapted to that environment, it was quite a jolt for them to get accustomed to sunlight on Gielinor when brought during the Menaphite War, as they were used to heavy 'cloudy' weather due to ash blocking out what light they did get, and being used to the constant lightning strikes and the glow of volcanic rifts and lava pools. But they adapt quite well and while they still prefer muted lights, they have no problem in the sunlight after adjusting a bit. Think of when it’s a sunny summer day and you leave your dark house and how for a few minutes you have to acclimate. Sliske has the most trouble with this, seeing as he still spends quite some time in the darkness of the Shadow Realm which is hazy and muted in light. He's quite prone to straining and headaches/migraines from bright lights on Gielinor ( and Earth since a lot of my writing takes place on Modern Earth ).
Mahjarrat have fairly acute senses and sharp ears, and while most concept art shows them similar to human ears, why not lorge, sharp, and pointy ( as not to be so human )? Plus, imagine a few with larger, pointed ones that flick when irritated. That's cute, but deadly. They can hear fairly well and can hear you talking shit. Not exactly up to par with a bat or a moth, but quite up there with horses or cats. I'd imagine the rest of their senses are pretty keen despite not using taste or smell as much as a human, but most senses are still fairly above a human’s.
I'm not exactly sure how they'd fare in the aspect of touch, but it is known that they are very, very strong and can break bones with their bare hands. They have exceptional strength in their bodies and despite teleporting some ways, I'll bet most of them are decently muscular or lean under those robes due to their solidity and a bad example perhaps, but, uh, have you seen Zamorak's exposed chest? I'm sure 'godhood' didn't change that much, albeit some. Who wouldn't love a decently built Enahkra who will hand your ass to you? A babe. Sliske himself, while being one of the leanest of the Mahjarrat, probably has core strength and broad shoulders under those pauldrons. I'd like to imagine he'd also ( as some other of his kin) would be pretty flexible and train his Praetorians to be similar and absolutely strong in the event of having to resort to physical combat or maneuvering out of capture. Most of them were born on Freneskae, a planet made of plenty of solid rock/crystal cliffs and caves, they made pilgrimages pretty often to the ritual site, so some rock climbing was probably involved as they grew. Plus, image small, child Mahjarrat, not able to teleport or be proficient in magic, just out on a day with less lightning, climbing around, chucking rocks into lava for fun. I'm getting off-topic and we'll talk about babbies some other post.
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SKIN / STRIPES / SCARRATIONS.
personal interpretation body/stripe of sliske here. (mildly nsfw)
 Skin colorations are usually running the gamut of dark grey, pale grey, and dull color such as a grey-green, grey yellow and more. It's also notable that Mahjarrat are shapeshifters and are known to slowly take on the appearances of the conditions they are in for extended amounts of time; Kharshai becoming more 'viking-esque' like the Fremennik people who took him in when he was unaware he was human, and also Bilrach's warped appearance from spending god knows how long in Daemonheim with larger ridges, scarring, and some more demonic-looking features. Sliske himself has a very deep, dark slate grey skin tone from the amount of time he spends in the dark of the Shadow Realm, beginning to mimic its dusk. 
Mahjarrat have thick skin, built initially to withstand the heat and abrasion of their home world’s rocky and dangerous climate and environment, but also notably protective against icy and snow-fraught climates, as they have little to no issue or complaint at heading far North of the Fremennik Providence, near the icy fortress of Ghorrock where their ritual stone lays on Gielinor ( it's also notable that Jhallan asks the adventurer to re-seal him within a fuggin’ block of ice to rest again, proving they do not mind the cold at all ). Their skin can scar if proper regeneration is not taken to heal wounds, as Mahjarrat are known for almost instantaneously healing themselves of most wounds on the battlefield to their own volition, but this is quite rarely seen on them, sans Bilrach.  For all we know, they could be quite scarred from lack of regeneration fueled by magical energy or quite severe wounds under those robes that cover most of their body, I personally headcanon that some may have some scarring on their hands and forearms due to the might of some of the spells they use. I also personally headcanon Sliske having a pretty nasty burn across his shoulder and ribs trailing to the hip on the left side from Tumeken's explosive self-sacrifice detonation that wiped out the entirety of his army and at least 3/4ths of the Mahjarrat present, sans the ones spared by Azzanadra's quick shielding. I would think that some of them also may have suffered from similar scars due to Kharshai admitting they were tired and wounded after the event.
Striping and markings can litter their forms in sparse or rather heavy. Most Mahjarrat have at least some facial striping that can be a monochrome pale grey or darker, or a bright color such as Wahisietel's bright red trailing across his ridges to his chin spikes, Enakhra's vivid pink colorations, and Khazard's orange striping. While stripes may look similar from individual to individual you are hard-pressed to find two Mahjarrat with identical markings, and we have never heard of any twins being born from their tribe in canon ( Not saying it's not possible! But that would be a lot of strain seeing as once child is hard enough for a pair to conceive ). It's unknown if the stripes are across the rest of their bodies, but I say to hell with it. Why the hell not? Let the stripes go as angular or curvy as they please across their skin. Why limit the imagination. They are aliens. For the sake of me writing Sliske; he's a very pale silvery, parallel stripy thing under those robes with handsome slate skin. Go figure, that's jus' me though. ( Whatddya mean I made a personal ref of that?? s w e a t s?? slight warning for some not safies. )
CLAWS / FEET.
personal interpretation of sliske’s rock climbin’ sharp feets here.
Mahjarrat probably do have clawed hands and feet, and they are thick and sharp, along with strong ( most likely calloused for some ) palms and heels for climbing ( possibly before they were so proficient with teleporting ) They are also prime last resort weapons if need be and constantly need filing down on Gielinor and other terrains since they aren't around the rocky outcrops of Freneskae and using them there as much, most Mahjarrat seem to opt to wear gloves anyway. Their legs and arms are also pretty sturdy for climbing despite not needing to do so as much. I’d imagine they might just have longer toe and finger bones for mild gripping abilities when it comes to climbing. I’ve also kinda headcanoned often that they probably might have wrapped parts of their feet in bindings, just to keep things like soft arches or tendon areas save when climbing or walking. Ancient hellplanet fashion, baby.
GEMS.
Just about all Mahjarrat ( and Dreams of Mah in general ) have at least one 'crystal' or 'gemstone' in their brows or crowns ( whoever in the wiki said Sliske doesn't have one is a fraud, just because we don't see it due his V tapered hood doesn't mean it's not there, as it has been shown in several concept arts that he does have two yellow-green or 'peridotite' colored diamonds, like his half-brother’s four of the same color ). When asked about it in the Children of Mah quest, Wahisietel states that even they are not sure as to why they have them but believe it to be a direct connection to Mah. It's also implied that a dead Mahjarrat's 'crystal' often records their last thoughts or actions. Most Mahjarrat have the exact same bright iris color as their stones ( the concept art with Sliske having gold eyes throws me off, but I'd imagine there could be some minor color differences ). It seems that gemstones look-alike from siblings and offspring, as Sliske and his half-brother Wahisietel have almost the same colored crystal and shape despite Wahisietel having four diamonds to Sliske's two.
 ORGANS? OR LACK THEREOF? 
personal interpretation of nasty snake man blood here.
It's truly unknown as to just how many organs Mahjarrat have and if there is any comparison to be made to humans. It can be hypothesized they do have at least a heart ( With more chambers than a humans? Or two! Who knows! ) and lungs. If they do have lungs, it could be stated that they are very strong and made to filter out the heavy ash and debris of Freneskae's poor air quality, our adventurer had enough trouble breathing on Freneskae if you didn't take face gear. They do not seem to have a digestive tract as they do not need sustenance or hydration and perhaps have a makeshift stomach that leads nowhere as if they do eat anything, they just have to regurgitate it. Onto blood, they possibly do have a circulatory system and blood, as Lucien states he didn't 'want to spill any more Mahjarrat blood'. Normal human blood would be a bit boring so I like to imagine they have thick, dark-colored blood that has some iridescent properties to it ( not glittery, but if you have ever seen what the ink in a ballpoint pen looks like when dumped out, it has a particular shine to it. ) and never seems to be just one color, like an oil slick. Probably because it's so rich in arcane properties which would also make it pretty toxic, bitter, or awfully sickly sweet. This also means that they would blush pretty dark in color and have dark-colored tongues and etc. rather than red like humans, that's.... kinda cute.  Also, if we are talking about organs and parts, a small blurb, no, female Mahjarrat do not have boobs. There's no need since they probably do not feed their young at all. So breaking canon for the sake of biology, hi, Mahjarrat probably don't have boobs or nips. Kinda doesn’t make sense. SHRUG. But they do have belly buttons, so maybe they are gestated with umbilical cords.
THE BANE OF THE JMOD’S EXISTENCE: MAHJARRAT REPRODUCTION
Y'all wanted it Jmods yell when we ask for it, here it is: my reproduction hypothesis. We have little to no real canon lore for Mahjarrat other than that they do(?) reproduce sexually, it takes a lot of energy to do so (abt 50% physical effort, 50% the pair pooling their life energy into the event, kinda dangerous), and that they are culturally fond of breeding during earthquakes ( this was just a cultural tradition and it's probably possible to breed outside of this tradition, the jokes say it’s almost Pavlovian ). They have a specific ritual for breeding, The Ritual of Enervation. The Enervation is the foil of a Ritual of Rejuvenation where one of their kind is sacrificed to provide all others with energy and return them from their lich-like states to fleshy filled out ones, the Enervation is a pilgrimage to select a mate and breed to create a new Mahjarrat between a pair. It's slightly hinted that the pair chooses their mate based upon battle prowess or cunningness ( Zemouregal Senior chose his mate based on her skills in battle ) . Much like real animals today, they want only the strongest genetics and mutations to continue on. All of them fight each other for their pick of a mate. Very rarely do the pairs have any emotional attachment, this is rare. And the ritual still isn't pretty; I'll say it, they are rough lovers. Expect biting, scratching, bruising, and more. Kinky. Let me tell you, human genitalia are boring as hell when you are describing aliens. Phallic genitalia differs a lot from individual to individual, it's a slight 'grab bag to see what part works best for future genetics'. Mahjarrat bits are pretty internal until aroused since it makes no sense for them to be external seeing as all Mahjarrat lose a lot of skin and muscle to atrophy as they age and lose energy, so they'd do better internally and tucked away. Vaginal genitalia differs heavily as well, anything goes. Barbs? Sure. Flowery looking bits? Sure. It's aliens, guys. Go wild. Same thing with sexualities and genders, other than what they want to present themselves as, we don't know shit, so go for it. I'm fairly sure Mahjarrat really don't mind gender identity and anything goes, they see power, survival, and fighting over everything else. Sliske, of course, is male presenting and yes, has his own unique bits. Uh, ridges, bifurcated tip, fan-like appendage for preventing backflow. I'd describe more but I'm already pRETTY FUCKING SHY RIGHT NOW BC I DON'T KNOW HOW TO talk much abt this. I'm a beginner alien fucker. Give me a break. UPDATE: I went there, I no longer have shame. bc I roughly drew it.
I’m not sure what the good estimate would be when it comes to how long a Mahjarrat gestates, is it longer than a human? Quicker due to magic? We just don’t know. The birth rate is exceedingly low due to the dangers and strain of Freneskae, it's not unheard of for miscarriages or mothers to pass away from lack of energy or during the fray of the constant other tribes attacking each other. Generally, it's a duty to protect a gravid mother of the sake of population, mate or not. Putting aside your disdain for your nemesis was hard but needed if you wanted to keep your tribe thriving. Fathers don't tend to stick around after the ritual other than to check in to protect their child and future genetics as insurance. Mothers rear children and if they could get along and not spat at one another, often looked after each other's children. Maternal groups were pretty common and one could leave another to watch their kids while they went off on their duties of making lightning rods, scouting, and more. 
MISC? 
Mahjarrats don't exactly have the same bonds as humans and familial life was harsh, mainly due to the stress of knowing your own blood one day might betray you and vote you off to be the sacrifice at a ritual. They are not affectionate as much as humans and care in their own backwards way about each other if they are family, but it's an arm's length approach. Sliske and Wahisietel seem to get along and still probably have their ferocious verbal quarrels and have possibly even physically scuffled a bit over things, but managed to have concern for one another, as do Mahjarrat who are as best a definition of 'friends' can be to them. Remember that they are very paranoid of one another and usually only see eye to eye if in the same political faction or having to make a deal or coerce one another to stand up for you if you are challenged at a ritual ( later on this became a huge political agenda between the two main sides; Zamorakian or Zarosian and fighting intensified at dislike for each other ). As they evolved from their creation, they just generally became more and more mistrustful of each other to point of paranoia. So affection is incredibly weird to them and the first thought that comes from it is 'what do you want and why?' and it's expected to be a deceitful notion. Hence, Sliske is incredibly good at persuading others and using deceitful action to lure people but the moment it's done to him, he'll play along but consider it warily as false notions. Sorry not sorry, that's pretty habitual to him and will stay with him, as well as his kin. You're never going to have a 'stable relationship' with any Mahjarrat. Well, not 100% at least. You can try, they might even appreciate it if they aren’t offended.
That’s about all I wanted to say and anything left out of this word spew can be covered in other posts. Like culture.... or babbies. I have a lot to say about Babjarrats but no place right now to keep up this long shit.  UPDATE: i talked abt my thoughts on babjarrats. it was the best of my life.
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Flowers and a Flower Boy
Minghao is done with his best friends running circles around each other, so he sets them up for a date at the most aesthetic place he can think of: a rose garden at Ilsan Lake Park.
△ 1,999 words | fluff | oneshot | college student!Mingyu | requested by: anon | flower boy date game | beta by: @regal-kleio​ & @ccarats​ (thanks for helping me brainstorm on this one bb <33)
i’m sorry this took so long my dear T-T i kind of twisted it a lil bc i got carried away with the whole park (yo it’s so pretty???) but i hope you like this! <333 (you sound adorable btw im dying). This also concludes the flower boy date game! thank you to everyone who participated and shared a lil bit of themselves for these stories!
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The hour and a half train ride from Gangnam to Ilsan gave you plenty of time to curse Minghao to the pits of hell and back. He had lured you out of the comfort of your home and into the humid late-spring air with promises of a fun-filled best friend day, complete with aesthetic pictures, and food. At no point had he mentioned that Mingyu--tall, obnoxiously good-looking, Mingyu--would be joining you.
You had been none the wiser until you’d arrived at the train station, only to be met by Minghao joking around with the very man you made a point to avoid. You took note of the fact that they were both dressed to the nines--wearing button up shirts and slacks, with each of them putting their usual unique twists to their similar outfits. It made you glad Minghao had at least been kind enough to inform you that there was a dress code for the day, so you wouldn’t feel like a shlump in comparison to the two tall males.
The greetings had been awkward, as always, with you and Mingyu avoiding each other’s gazes and Minghao sighing in exasperation as he led the way to the platform, muttering under his breath.
Now the three of you were sitting in the train, your eyes glued to the window while Minghao and Mingyu chatted away. The entire time you were cursing at Minghao in your head, glaring at the dark haired boy whenever Mingyu wasn’t looking, only to be scolded by one of the other’s reproachful looks which you knew was a sign to “behave, please.”
The trip seemed to last an eternity—even with the switching of trains you still felt trapped by Mingyu’s presence.
It wasn’t that you really held any animosity towards the brown-haired boy, after all, he was kind and funny, and almost charming to a fault. But at the end of the day, he was best friend’s with Minghao, your best friend, and the last thing you wanted to was to complicate or strain their friendship.
Given that, it was easier to pretend you disliked Mingyu—to try to find flaws in all of his actions and vehemently refuse any feelings of attachment. Mingyu, on the other hand, had never done the same to you; his smiles remained kind, he still tried to include you in conversations, but it all ended in him being shot down time and time again.
You’d never bothered to ask Minghao about the situation, because you knew how highly he valued his friendships. You knew he would hold a grudge against anyone that ever dared to mess with those for him. It kept you quiet, and kept you pretending you simply had a disliking for Mingyu.
Still, try as you might, you couldn’t fully ignore him. His laughter often echoed in any space he occupied, his voice soothing in its own muted quality. It reminded you of everything warm and made you desperate to drop your pretense so that you could be the one to hear every word he spoke.
Instead you settled for listening in, keeping your face as blank as you could manage and hoping Minghao would keep him talking.
It was around midday when the three of you finally arrived at Ilsan, with Minghao still being quiet as a mouse about your destination.
It was only a short walk from the station, but you should’ve guessed where you were heading, given that Minghao had been bugging you to go for weeks now. He’d dragged you all to Ilsan Lake Park for the international flower festival, and you couldn’t but feel the excitement bubbling. Despite the fact that you were upset with Minghao, you were at least glad he hadn’t lied to you about the reasons you should come out on such a pretty day.
The three of you set out towards the grounds, with you  walking slightly ahead of the two friends to look at vendors and what their stalls had to offer. You could already hear the shutter of Minghao’s camera going off, so you were a little more mindful of the way you were holding yourself.
About half an hour later, while you grabbed some food from a vendor, Minghao started shuffling, sighing every other second. You could feel his eyes going back and forth between you and Mingyu, but you studiously ignored him, chatting away with the vendor instead.
“Oh, look, an artist!” Both you and Mingyu turned to look at Minghao, who was slowly stepping away. His mouth was twitching in a way in you knew meant he was trying to bite back laughter, and you instantly turned suspicious.
“Wait, lets get food then we can all go,” Mingyu told him, sounding a little exasperated with the other male.
Minghao grinned now, “nah, I think you two could use some...bonding time. I’ll go off on my own. I’ll meet you back at the entrance at six?” He was full on stepping back now, weaving between bodies of tourists. You stared at him in chagrin, your eyes promising payback if he really left you alone with Mingyu.
“Hao?”
“Enjoy your date!” He said, waving with one of his signature giggles, disappearing into the crowd.
You were left to gape after him, completely in disbelief that your best friend could just abandon you when, as far as he was concerned, you and Mingyu were as good as strangers.
Next to you, Mingyu seemed just as frozen, broken sounds of protest coming from him. Once you gathered enough ire, you huffed, looking at him but refusing to meet his eyes. “Let’s go find him.” Your voice was hard, and you were ready to find the Chinese boy and drag him back to Gangnam by his ear.
Mingyu’s warm hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you, and you opened your mouth to protest, but were too caught off guard by his expression. It was a mix between hesitation and hopefulness, strangely reminding you of a puppy.
“What are you doing?” You asked cautiously, looking at his hand. Mingyu dropped his hold immediately, folding his arms behind his back and pursing his lips while he found his words.
“Well...he’s not wrong. I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me, but…I don’t think the same of you. Maybe if we spent some time together, you might find I’m not that awful?” His words were chosen carefully, you could tell, but there was still an underlying tone of hope.
You sighed, glaring at the spot off to the side of Mingyu at your dilemma. You didn’t want to call yourself out, but the guilt was eating at you now. Mingyu really hadn’t done anything wrong, per say, and it did seem extremely rude to continue acting the way you had. Then again, you really didn’t want to end up liking spending time with him so much that you forgot why you weren’t allowing yourself to act on your infatuation.
In the end, your guilt won, making your shoulders droop. “Listen, it’s not that I particularly dislike you.” You started, hesitating when you saw Mingyu tilt his head in question. “I just…”
You bit back a groan of frustration and missed to yourself. “Alright, fine, let’s leave Hao to fend for himself. I hope he gets lost.” You grumbled, starting to move away from the vendor.
Mingyu laughed a little, catching up to you in a few easy strides. He seemed a little more relaxed now, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. “He’s probably off to be a pretentious little prick,” he jabbed, but you could hear the genuine affection behind his words. It made your guard come down a little, and you couldn’t quite hide the small little laugh at his joke.
Mingyu was looking forward, but he was hiding his own smile too, it seemed.
Slowly, as you both walked along the path, you felt yourself giving in more and more into Mingyu’s soft personality, letting his laughter coax out your own and his soft brown eyes lure you into speaking in tangents.
You learned more about Mingyu than you’d ever thought you would: how he loved to take photos, how he adored his little dog, how well he got along with Minghao, and how much he’d like to have a fashion line of his own one day. In turn, you spilled just as much about yourself, letting him know of your love for art, how you also enjoyed fashion and photography.
The two of you walked off to the flower exhibitions later, your arms brushing now as you continued to question each other; it was around this time that it started to dawn on you that you were becoming helpless to your infatuation towards Mingyu, and that maybe you should start considering the possibility that Minghao left the two of you alone for that very same reason.
“Hey, stand right there,” Mingyu was pushing you gently by your shoulders towards a large arrangement of flowers, his grin wide. “A pretty backdrop for a pretty human.”
You tried to pretend your cheeks weren’t trying to compete with the color of the flowers behind you, and just allowed Mingyu to place you in front of the flower display. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and you stepped forward with a frown.
“Shouldn’t I give you my phone instead?” You asked him, brows furrowing.
Mingyu grinned again, his eyes sparkling. “it’s okay, I want to remember this too.” He said, ducking his head for a moment and pursing his lips nervously. “Our first date.” He added, so low you almost thought you’d misheard him.
His hopeful wide eyes and tentative smile, however, told you it wasn’t your ears playing tricks on you and you could only duck your head, trying to come up with some sort of response.
“Is...is that okay?” he asked carefully, crouching a little to get your eyes to meet his, and only then straightening back up to his full height.
Your breath hitched a little, and losing yourself in the chocolate brown of his eyes and the pretty curve to his lips, you nodded your response. You swore you had never seen such a bright smile from the man in front of you for the entire time you’d known him, and you wondered if you hadn’t been as concerned with your friendship with Minghao, as you had been with the idea of Mingyu not reciprocating the interest.
The rest of the day ended up being a blur of pictures, eating food and trying to learn as much as you could about each other. At some point, Mingyu even bought you a flower crown, gently placing it atop of your head and letting you know he’d buy himself one too if it made you embarrassed to walk around with it.
(In the end, he bought one too, because you insisted that your pictures would come out much more aesthetic if you were both wearing flower crowns.)
When the sun was finally setting, the both of you ran into Minghao, whose arms were laden with bags of trinkets, and whose grin was smug when his eyes locked onto your arm tucked into Mingyu’s elbow.
“Had fun, did we?” he teased, tilting his head cockily.
You glared a little, but there was no venom behind it. Instead you were grateful to your best friend, for throwing you to the sharks this one time. “So did you, I see.” You teased back, raising an eyebrow at his bags.
Minghao shrugged, eyes sparkling even in the semi-darkness. “Yes I did. Now let’s go get food before I die.”
Both you and Mingyu shared a look, a playfully exasperated grin, and the three of you went off again, this time with your heart feeling much light than it had in the morning, all thanks to the man who looked at you as you walked and threw you a cheesy grin, and a playful wink.
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