#that shawl pattern KILLED me

[srednyvashtar]

I've never been terribly active here but I've returned to share my favourite patterns that make me slightly uncomfy and/or ready to star in an absolutely CRACKING sci-fi miniseries, please enjoy.

DEGEN ADULT EYES SWEATER by Lindsay Degen

Who WOULDN'T want this Biblically accurate sweater? The perfect attire for every horrifying occasion.

#22 Raglan Sleeve Pullover by Laura Zukaite

The rather staid naming of this sweater belies its Mad Max energy. After the apocalypse comes for us I hope we can at least dress like this.

Open Waters Shawl by Melanie Berg

A good shawl to wear to a duel to the death with your mortal enemy, if your mortal enemy has trypophobia.

Romanesco Jumper by Ranti Ehinmola

Honestly, the number of variations shown in the project photos for this pattern is amazing. Not only can you fulfill your dreams of looking like a 5th Element villain, you can do it your way.

DEGEN HOLE SWEATER by Lindsay Degen

This is a practical pattern for people like me who are in denial about living in a desert and stubbornly insist on wearing knitwear despite ample evidence this is a bad idea.

Wilderness by Martin Storey

I absolutely adore the 1950s farmhouse vibe of this photo and the beauty and poise of the model juxtaposed with the fact that she looks like a human bittermelon and she is fucking KILLING it

# 17 Patterned Sweater with V-Yoke by Sabrina/Sandra team designers

An unassuming mass-produced pattern from the 90s that, just coincidentally, looks like something you'd wear to head an intergalactic delegation.

Blume by Norah Gaughan

Speaking of space sweaters, here's another that wouldn't look out of place on the bridge of a starship.

Mullion by Martin Storey

This one, on the other hand, looks more like attire for a... space council?

Space Odyssey by Anna Strandberg

This pattern is literally called "Space Odyssey". The author definitely knows.

Dark Moss Pullover by Teti Lutsak

Bringing things back to Earth, the way these broad cables fade into the fabric reminds me of my desire to be buried in one of those mushroom suits after I die. Your interpretation may vary.

Waterbender by Yiğitcan / Pufido

The ultimate in dramatic sleeves.

Day Dreams by Stacy Collingham

Finally... I think the Power Rangers fought this sweater.

#knitting #knitting patterns

[randomarttalent]

Pie's family redesigns + Family tree

Original posts, info and links down below

Maud "Slate" Pie + Mudbriar "Walnut"

Maud "Slate" Pie I've kept Maud mostly the same all over, her pallet and color scheme are already good in my taste. She now has spots to match Pinkie but also as a hint to her special talent, as I wanted it to look like an opened geode. I didn't like that her cutie mark was only just a rock, it didn't say a single thing about her special talent. Now it says a bit more, showing off that she can find true beauty under what others might just see as a rock.

She wears her normal dress, as I didn't see a reason to change it. I've however added a small bracelet, which has different beads, to represent her sisters. As she might not show or say it much but she loves them all dearly.

Mudbriar "Walnut" I've darkened his pallet a little, more so his overall design didn't end up too light or dark. I've given him cloven hooves and a long tail, as I see him from a family of mixed unicorn and earth ponies. His markings are like branches/roots of trees, showing his connection to the trees. Same story for his cutie mark as Maud's, it was too simple for what his special talent is. So I've added a book but it's standing by its opening, as a small hint to tents, as he travels to examine trees, learning about as many as he can and writing it down for others to read.

Mudbriar now wears a travel backpack, which is for his travels. He doesn't wear much else, as he doesn't see the need to.

Gilda "Glory" + "Shady" Limestone Pie

Gilda"Glory" I've darkened her whole pallet and added some markings. As she's a mountain lion + tiger in this AU. Her design hasn't been changed much, I've added some jewelry but not much else.

"Shady"Limestone Pie Limestone's pallet is mostly the same, its his patterns that darken his look. Lime is trans in my AU, as his anger issues were caused by him not feeling whole/as he should be. His cutie mark has been changed to a broken opened geode, with lime-green stone, which resembles a lime.

He has a few pricings and wears a his band's t-shirt, which says ROAD KILL, Gilda also has one but she mostly wears it to his concerts, showing her support.

 Trouble Shoes + Marble "Droplet" Pie

Trouble Shoes I've made Trouble Shoes slightly darker and added a few lighter strips to his mane and tail. He also now has a beard, which to those who don't know him, makes him look even more scary than before. For his cutie mark I wanted something more than just "bad luck". He of course still struggled to find out what he was meant to do, as he thought the clown nose and wig was some cruel joke the world did to him.

As for his clothing, I went with a nice jacket, kept his hat and his weeding ring.

Marble"Droplet"Pie Marble's pallet has mostly stayed the same, only receiving slight changes and the usual markings that come along with my redesigns. Her cutie mark now shows off how well she makes jewelry with the beautiful gems they find in Appleloosa. To me, her cutie mark never told a single thing about what she was to do, it said marble but what else? So now, she's a crystal collector and seller.

The clothing she wears is a simple shawl, her weeding ring, a few earrings, a few flowers from her middle oldest son, a sun anklet to represent her oldest son and a small bat wing hair tie to represent her youngest son. 

#mlp ng #mlp #randomarttalent #rat #all love no war #alnw #mlp art #mlp g4 #mlp next gen #my little pony #next generation #mlp fim #mlp redesign #friendship is magic #mlpfim #redesign #pinkie pie #cheese sandwich #marble pie #Trouble Shoes #limestone pie #Gilda #Maud Pie #mudbriar

[sagemonsters]

The Drider & the Shepherd's Daughter

Summary: a fairy tale where Malina, the shepherd's daughter, is tasked with begging a drider for silk for her sisters' dresses... and finds herself desiring more than just the silk.

Status: SFW

Pairing: cis female human x cis female drider

Word Count: 2,579

*

Long ago and far away, there was a shepherd who lived in the mountains with his flock, his dog, his wife, and his three daughters. His name is not important. His dog’s name is not important. His wife’s name is not important either, but his daughters’ names are. The oldest was Claudia, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than the dreams of sapphires. The middle girl was Isolda, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than a clear midsummer sky. And the last and least was Malina, who had a face you wouldn’t look twice at and eyes like fog, and who had killed her mother.

The shepherd and the two elder daughters often reminded Malina of this, because they had watched Malina’s mother die of childbed fever barely a week after Malina had been brought into this world.

She grew into a child of average build, weight, appetite, and sensibilities. She wore her sisters’ hand-me-downs and played with the wooden toys that they outgrew. She learned to hold her tongue rather than talk out of turn, and to observe others carefully. She watched the patterns of birds in the air and sheep on the ground, and feared the howling of the winter wolves. She dreamed the dreams of children everywhere who feel that they are neither wholly understood nor wholly loved; dreams of being spirited away to someplace where her real father and sisters welcomed her, a place where her hand-me-down socks didn’t have holes and her father called her by her name rather than “girl” or “you.” She was, in short, neither monstrous nor mad, and although underloved she was never outright rejected by her family as she changed from a child to a woman.

The local lord had three sons, all spirited young men who were fair of face and had eyes as blue as the faraway ocean. Sometimes they rode through the village on market days and gave flowers to the peasant girls in exchange for kisses.

The eldest of the three young men saw Claudia. He offered her a bundle of bright yellow jonquils, and Claudia kissed him. She twined the flowers into a crown to rest upon her golden hair, and told the boy that she would look much better with a crown of metal and a bridal veil. The eldest of the lord’s sons was already captivated by Claudia’s beauty, but knew well that peasant girls didn’t marry into nobility. Nevertheless, he could not deny her.

“Weave and sew your wedding dress, and come to me again,” the eldest son said. “If it is as beautiful as you are, I will marry you.”

So Claudia returned to the shepherd’s home, and carded and wove the bales of soft white lamb’s wool into cloth, and then cut and sewed the cloth into a dress. But she had no pearls or jewels, and she knew that a peasant’s woolen gown could never rival a satin gown made by a master tailor in one of the southern cities, so she called for Malina.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will eat me from my toes to my head. It’s too dangerous.”

“You killed our mother,” Claudia reminded her. “Fetch the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina hung her head in shame, then packed a basket with bread and cheese and salted mutton, pulled on her hat and shawl, and set out. She climbed the mountain trails, which grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found a canyon crowded with massive spider webs. Antlers protruded from an equally massive storage cocoon beside the entrance.

Malina waited outside the canyon. Only the wind stirred the webbing, and dusk began to fall as the sun set behind the peaks. A chill descended over the mountains, and Malina pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders.

There was a chittering noise, followed by the sound of too many legs thudding against the ground. “Are you lost, my dearest?” asked the drider who loomed out of the deepening darkness. She had the torso of an elf and the lower half of a spider the size of a pony, with a multitude of glowing red eyes filling her gray face.

“I’m not lost, Mistress,” Malina said. “I came here looking for you.”

The drider paused, then asked: “What is your name, my dearest?”

Nobody had ever asked Malina her name before. She told the drider.

“Dearest Malina, what do you seek?” the drider asked next.

“My sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina said.

“And what do you offer in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?” asked the drider.

Malina offered her the basket.

“Dearest Malina, I eat my meat raw and wriggling, and I take neither bread nor cheese,” the drider said. “Offer me something else.”

Malina offered her the promise of a lamb from her father’s flock.

“Dearest Malina, a single spring lamb, no matter how tender, is not enough for a bolt of my cloth. Offer me something else.”

“I have nothing else,” Malina admitted. “Unless you desire my life.”

“I do not desire your life,” the drider said. “Will you give me a kiss for a bolt of silken cloth?”

“I will give anything to make my sister happy.”

“Be careful what you say, dearest Malina,” the drider whispered, and approached on her many legs. Malina’s own legs wanted to tremble, but she held her ground. The drider cupped Malina’s face gently with her gray hands, and Malina’s eyes fluttered closed. The human didn’t know if her heart thundered in fear or anticipation, but she could have sworn that it stopped at the soft press of the drider’s lips against her own a moment later. When Malina opened her eyes, the drider presented her with a bolt of silken cloth that shimmered under the moonlight.

“Here is your cloth,” the drider said.

“Thank you,” Malina said. Her lips tingled. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Arachne,” the drider informed her, and sent Malina home down the mountain trails.

Malina arrived before dawn. Her father hadn’t noticed her absence, but Claudia was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the eldest of the lord’s sons. Even with no pearls or jewels, the dress was so beautiful that the young man had no choice but to marry her. Claudia left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle. 

Malina dreamed of Arachne’s lips and hands upon her, and felt a pang of hitherto-unknown desire in the morning when she awoke alone in her bed.

Another market day, the second-eldest of the lord’s sons saw Isolda in the village, and offered her a bundle of bright crimson roses in exchange for a kiss. Isolda accepted, and twined the roses into a crown to rest upon her coppery red hair. She told the lord’s son how fine she would look with a crown of metal and a bridal veil, and this second son, thinking of his brother’s fortune in finding a beautiful wife, posed the same challenge as his elder sibling had done.

Isolda returned home. She did not bother sewing a dress of lamb’s wool, and instead summoned her sister.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will not let me impose on her generosity a second time, and I fear…” She didn’t know what she truly feared, however, and could not continue.

“You killed our mother,” Isolda said, not noticing her younger sister’s hesitance. “Claudia may have forgiven you, but I haven’t. Fetch me the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina lowered her eyes to the floor in what might have been shame—but her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The young woman packed her basket a second time, and donned her hat and shawl. This time, however, she took her mother’s wedding band and slipped it into her pocket before heading out the door. Once again, Malina climbed the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found the canyon. She waited, and dusk cloaked the mountains in darkness. Arachne emerged from among the webs.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you here?” the drider asked.

“My other sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina admitted, “and I will do anything to make her happy.”

“Be careful of what you say,” Arachne warned. “What will you offer me in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?”

“Will you take my mother’s ring?” Malina asked, and fished the silver band out of her pocket. She held it out, and Arachne approached to inspect it. Malina’s heart once again began to hammer in her chest as she looked at the drider’s lips.

“I place no value in metal,” the drider said eventually. “Offer me something else.”

“Will you take another kiss?” Malina said. And then she surprised herself with: “I would be happy to give it to you.”

After a moment, the drider smiled. “I will take your kiss, but I will ask this of you as well: will you wear my favor, dearest Malina? Will you wear it always and visit me at least once a moon for a year? If this is acceptable, I will give you the cloth.”

“It is very acceptable,” Malina said, and leaned into the drider’s touch. Their lips met for a second time, and this time Malina knew that the thrill in her heart was something very different from fear. When they finally pulled apart, Arachne gave her the bolt of silk. The drider also gave her a shimmering length of ribbon, and tied it gently around her right wrist. Her hands were warm and soft as they brushed against Malina’s.

Malina returned home with the bolt of cloth before dawn. Her father had not noticed her absence, but Isolda was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the second of the lord’s sons, and was married to him shortly thereafter. Isolda left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle, and Malina kept her promise to visit Arachne once a moon.

Finally, the youngest of the lord’s sons came to Malina in the village on market day. He offered her a fistful of daisies plucked from the roadside in exchange for a kiss. Malina blushed and accepted, but the kiss felt awkward and forced. Malina pulled away.

“Do you want to marry me?” the youngest son asked.

Malina hesitated, then shook her head.

The lord’s son didn’t seem to recognize this. He continued: “Your sisters’ wedding gowns were amazing dowries. They said that you gathered the silk from a man-eating drider in the mountains. Fetch me three bolts of this silk, and I won’t ask you to make a dress out of it.”

“Sir,” Malina protested. “I cannot marry you.”

“Yes,” the youngest son agreed, “you aren’t beautiful enough. However, you will fetch me the bolts of spider silk. I command this of you, as the son of your lord.”

“But I can’t,” Malina protested. “I can’t impose on Arachne’s generosity a third time, and ask for three bolts of cloth rather than one. It is too much.”

“Arachne?” the lord’s son asked. “It has a name?”

Malina froze into stillness. 

The lord’s son looked at the shimmering ribbon still tied around Malina’s wrist. “What’s this?” he asked, and reached out to examine her.

Malina pulled away again. “It’s nothing, sir,” she said. “I made it from a scrap of leftover fabric from my sister’s dress.”

“You’re lying!” the lord’s son declared. His eyes narrowed. “You’re in league with the drider! Did you enchant your sisters’ dresses so that my brothers would be made stupid with infatuation? They’re married to worthless peasant girls now! I’m no fool, though; I can tell you’re a witch. Guards! Guards!”

Malina fled the village as fast as she could, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She knew her father would offer her no shelter from the lord’s son, the village church no sanctuary, and so her feet took her along the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with her every leaping step. She did not wait at the canyon mouth as she heard the baying of the lord’s hounds, but slipped into the maze of sticky webbing. She slowed as she navigated between them, and struggled not to fall into the silken traps.

Arachne descended along the canyon wall on a silken line from the spinnerette of her spider abdomen. She looked down at Malina with her many red eyes, and listened to Malina’s panting breaths and the growing cacophony of the hounds and guards.

“Dearest Malina, why do you weep?” the drider asked in her soft voice.

“Arachne, Arachne, the lord’s youngest son called me a witch and said I used magic to enchant his brothers,” Malina said. “I think they want to kill me.”

“Dearest Malina, do you wish them to live?” Arachne asked. Her many eyes glowed bright as bloodied garnets.

“Yes,” Malina said.

“Dearest Malina, do you truly wish it so? Do you truly wish it after their cruelty to you?”

Malina hesitated, and the baying of the hounds and the shouting of the guards drew nearer. They had almost reached the canyon. 

“I wish it so,” Malina whispered.

“Then so it shall be,” the drider said, and spun more webs so that neither human nor hound could enter the canyon without Arachne’s assistance. The guards’ swords tangled and caught in the sticky webbing without cutting it, and the dogs refused to come near. After a time, the pursuers gave up and went away, their voices fading down the mountainside.

And now Malina was alone with Arachne. She could not return to her father’s home, or to the village, and she could not call upon her sisters at the lord’s castle. She was, for the first time, without a family, and her tears stung her eyes more fiercely than ever.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you such sorrow?” Arachne asked, and pulled Malina into her strong gray arms. Malina leaned against her.

“I am lost,” Malina said when she had mastered herself somewhat. “I have nothing. I have nobody.”

“Dearest Malina, you have me,” Arachne said. “We can travel far from these mountains, and make a home where none can harm or hate us. We will be safe. We will be happy. I promise you this with the breath in my lungs and the beating of my heart.”

Malina turned in the drider’s arms to look into her face. “Dearest Arachne, how can I thank you?”

“Will you wear my favor always?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I already do,” Malina answered.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Yes, and I already have.”

“Will you marry me, dearest Malina? Will you call me your wife and cherish me until the end of our days?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I always will,” Malina answered. She reached for the drider and kissed her a third time then, slowly and softly, feeling wholly loved and wholly understood.

*

You can also read this story in the April 2023 edition of the M❤️NSTER magazine, or download a nicely laid out PDF from my own itch.io page (both downloads are free, but please consider tipping where possible).

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a coffee so I can have a warm drink while I write!

#monster romance #monster girlfriend #monster lover #terato #drider #monster x human #sage's portfolio #creative writing #original fiction #fantasy fiction #fairy tale vibes #original characters #queer fiction #wlw fiction #lgbt fiction #sapphic fiction

[anonymouspuzzler]

taking a break from the wall of Lobotos to provide some miscellaneous Psychic 7 doodles!!! wait no there's one Loboto in there oops. oh god he's broken containment

(alt text/image IDs under cut!!)

[Image 1 ID: A black-and-white drawing of Ford doing a V-sign with his right hand, wearing baggy high-waisted shorts cinched with a belt and a checkered flannel with the sleeves rolled up, over which is a t-shirt reading "GOD CAN'T KILL ME!"]

[Image 2 ID: Two black-and-white drawings of Ford. In the first, he is posing with one hand on his hip, wearing shorts with a belt and a button-up under a t-shirt. The t-shirt reads, in a flaming text box, "MY FATE IS MY OWN NEITHER GOD NOR THE DEVIL CAN SAVE OR DAMN ME". The second drawing shows him from behind, gesturing to the back of the t-shirt with two thumbs; it reads, "BUY DREAM FLUFFS TODAY!"]

[Image 3 ID: A bust-up black-and-white drawing of Ford, wearing a life vest and giving a thumbs up, wearing a hat that reads "THE ATTITUDES OF WOMEN AND FISH TOWARD ME ARE TOO VARIED AND COMPLEX TO BE ACCURATELY DESCRIBED ON A HAT".]

[Image 4 ID: A black-and-white drawing of Ford and Nona in a rowboat being propelled psychically. Ford is on one knee with one hand on his chest and the other gesturing outwards, singing, "WHENNN THE MOOONNN HITS YOUR EYE LIIIKE A BIIIG PIZZA PIE THAT'S AMOOOREEEE". Nona, leaning on her cane and smiling placidly, thinks, "ohh I can't NOT fuck him".]

[Image 5 ID: An extremely tiny traditional pen drawing of old Bob Zanotto. He is just stood there.]

[Image 6 ID: A black-and-white single-panel comic of Cassie and Ford. Cassie, towering over Ford and leaning with her elbow propped on his head, tapping his forehead with her other hand, smirks and says, "If she's your girl why is my stamp on her plot-important letter". Ford, looking frustrated, replies, "We are in the same polycule".]

[Image 7 ID: A black-and-white single-panel comic of Loboto and Cassie. Cassie is standing behind Loboto, holding his left arm in one hand and holding up a butter knife near his head in mock-threat, smirking mischievously and saying, "Not gonna snitch and tell anyone we broke you out for dinner, right?" Loboto, toppling backwards and looking horrified, replies, "I AM SO SCARED OF YOU".]

[Image 8 ID: A drawing of Puzz, wearing a turtleneck sweater and overalls with her hair in a sloppy bun, smiling and waving lovestruck up at Cassie, who towers over her and looks down with mild interest. Cassie is nearly twice her height.]

[Image 9 ID: A color illustration of Cassie, wearing a long orange dress patterned with ants crawling in lines, a peach shawl patterned with black-and-white illustrations of bees, black flat shoes, a choker and necklace patterned with a bee charm and honey-colored hexagonal gemstones, and a warm yellow beret with an embroidered bee. Her hair is in a bun at the base of her neck and held together with honey-wand styled hairpins. She is carrying a wicker picnic basket, with a bottle of wine and a green-and-yellow checkered cloth sticking out of one side.]

[Image 10-13 IDs: A greyscale four-panel comic. In the first panel, young Bob is talking to Otto at the latter's workbench; Otto is removing a pair of goggles, looking over his shoulder at Bob and smirking knowingly. Bob, blushing and shrugging, avoiding eye contact, says with a nervous grin, "I just think Helmut's cool! It's not like I lie awake at night, thinking of him". The next panel cuts to Bob, doing just that; the third pulls in closer on his face, and the final shows him blushing furiously, saying, "Uh oh."]

#anonymous puzzler art #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #ford cruller #nona aquato #bob zanotto #cassie o'pia #god all the characters introduced in 2 are so fun

[linked-through-the-centuries]

do you have any specific design choices in mind in order to distinguish between the different links?

I DO I DO, I’m just an awful artist so I can’t like… fully sketch out what I have in my brain but I can do my best to describe it!

Warriors: Would he even be HW Link without that damn scarf- It’s a staple part of who he is at this point, and it was a gift so of course he always has it. I haven’t done much to change what he wears, it’s very similar to the green tunic he wears in game, just with a lower cut V neck and the fabric of it reaches his knees. He has a few more “professional” looking outfits, he likes to dress nice and look presentable. Also I have designed him better boots because drawing his canon boots killed me. He doesn’t wear the blue earrings he did in game, he’s switched them out for gold ones

Tears: This guy’s wardrobe would have Warriors on the ground sobbing if the good captain ever caught the full extent of it. Tears likes to mix it up, wear new outfits, their favorite is the Frostbite Armor tunic with the strappy sandals you get at the beginning of totk, and he likes doing his hair nice, but that’s not always practical, so they have the hylian trousers and champion’s tunic that they wear most of the time. He also has multiple piercings, so they can wear more of their charmed earrings at once

Wolf/Twilight: Well right now he’s stuck as a wolf, but if he weren’t, he’d wear his Ordonian clothes. They’re comfortable for him, and they remind them of home (he really misses his family). He does still have his green tunic which is more comfortable to wear armor with, but again, he is stuck rn as a wolf so clothes are the least of his concerns. Tears saw he had pierced ears and gave him small earrings with guardian resistance

Sky: I’ve definitely redesigned his outfit in my mind quite a bit. I imagine he’s very attached to his green tunic, but I think he’d wear the red piece of his “casual clothes” (i don’t know what it’s called) over that. The sail cloth is wrapped around him kinda like a shawl. He has feather earrings from his loft wing, and he wears his blue earrings right above them (so he has two holes in each ear). Sky also has a tattoo that wraps around his right wrist (his sword arm), and it’s his loftwing’s wings

Tune: Another one I’ve redesigned a bit. He wears a loose fitting dark green tunic that he leaves incredibly loose around the neck, tucked into pants and belted. (Think William Turner from pirates of the Caribbean. There’s one specific outfit of his I’m thinking of, with the dark red shirt from I wanna say the third movie). He wears an eyepatch, and his hair is quite long and very curly, but he ties it up and out of his face. His hair also has several braids woven into it. He has a lot of piercings, several in his ears and an eyebrow piercing

Hyrule: Very similar to his in game design, simple green tunic with brown sleeves and brown pants. He doesn’t have much, but he likes his clothes. They’re a bit worn, so they have patches and places where embroidery covers small holes, and at this point he could afford to buy new clothes but he’s sentimental. Wears small gold hoops in his ears as a last resort to sell if he really runs out of rupees (it has never come to that)

Past: They have very long, bright pink hair that they sometimes tie up, but a lot of the time is just loosely braided to keep it out of their face. Down, it reaches just past his collar bones. He has a long green tunic that’s kind of dress-like, belted with a flashy belt, and wears shorts under it and then boots. The fabric of the tunic is a bit flowy like a dress as well, and Past has embroidered little patterns and flowers along the bottom hem. They got bored one day. They have a lot of earrings and necklaces, they like shiny things, and have a staff they claim is used to channel magic but really is just a fancy walking aid (he doesn’t need the staff to do anything magic related. It’s literally just cool to them and it also helps them walk when they need it)

Calamity: Champions tunic or full on soldier gear. He hasn’t learned to relax much, he’s always a bit stressed and he dresses to impress and to look “official”

Mask: He’s another one I took creative liberties with. He wears incredibly casual clothes, mainly a plain white linen shirt belted over plain brown pants, because he doesn’t want to be associated with the Hero of Time (which is he, he just won’t tell the others that) and he doesn’t own a whole lot of clothes. His hair is shoulder length and cut a bit choppily (he did it himself), and sometimes he pulls it back. He has simple but pretty blue earrings, which were a gift from Warriors for one of his birthdays during the war

Spirit: He wears his engineer’s clothes, they are usually covered in dirt or coal

Minish: He wears something VERY similar to his in game design, except I’ve also given him a small, darker green cape. He gets cold a lot, and he often wraps it tight around himself. He’ll also put the hood up sometimes to try to remind himself of Ezlo

One day I’ll have to get over my inability to draw and sketch these out, but for now I hope this works!! None of them wear the hats, those were just things they had for their adventures :)

If you have any more questions please ask them!! I would love to talk more about these guys I just literally don’t know what to say

#links meet au #linked through the centuries #lttc #lttc warriors #lttc tears #lttc wolf #lttc twilight #lttc sky #lttc tune #lttc hyrule #lttc past #lttc calamity #lttc mask #lttc spirit #lttc minish #jes ask #jes talks #lttc outfits

[da3drat]

MERI. OUTFIT. REFSHEET.

I legitimately thought this was going to kill me ! I am simply not that good at coming up with outfits and I am really struggling to wrap my head around the fashion aesthetics of Morrowind. Also I think a lot of the vibe is built via armor (big pauldrons, bonemold armor), and Meri uhhh doesn't wear any. Talking a bit about each outfit under the cut<3

tattoos: designs are in the top left corner; the first one is the constellation of the lovers birth sign and the second is a wolf skull. The constellation is on her chest, she chose it because that was her daughter's birth sign. The wolf skull is on her right hip.

underwear: I think these underwear are the most expensive item of clothing Meri buys on a regular basis. I imagine that most common kinds of undergarments you see in game are a sensory nightmare for her, so she shells out the extra septims to get some that are silky and fit her comfortably. Probably of altmer make.

casual/around town: this is the closest to what she wears in game. Not much to say about it, the shirt is a mix of two extravagant shirts.

travel 1: lightweight and practical travel clothes for the more comfortable climates of southern Vvardenfell. The gold necklace she is wearing here and in the first outfit is the soldier's coin you get at the Ghostgate. Meri travels mostly unarmored, but does wear one heavy armored gauntlet which she primarily uses for emergency blocking.

travel 2: THIS ONE WAS FUN. I love ponchos, wraps, and shawls so I knew I wanted her in a big comfy woven one. The one she wears here was a gift from Nibani Maesa. I was inspired by Tibetan hooded shawls specifically, especially in the pattern. Also the goggles are dwemer make! She found them in a ruin- they are vision enhancing which makes them doubly useful during ash storms.

formal: okay. this one is not lore accurate. I really struggled with it because 1) I hate most of the nice clothes in game and 2) I had a hard time coming up with a silhouette I thought suited Meri. I wanted it to be masc while still definitively being women's clothing, and I wanted to use purple to signify the quality and expense. I really tried with this one, there are elements of it I like, but I think it needs a couple more pass overs before I'll be happy with it. Consider this fit under construction. The pin in her hair is a moon and star.

Nerevarine Drip: Had to do at least one outfit with Wraithguard ofc, and I included the Teeth of the Urshilaku as well. This is by far the most dramatic silhouette which I think is fitting for an end game look. Those are pants under there btw. I know it looks like a skirt but it's just wide legged pants.

Ty for reading :D

#I wanted to get this up before I left to visit family for the holidays oug #its 2am and I still have to pack #I will be doing one of these for celeste and dusk at some point but I need a MINUTE lmao #meri #my art #morrowind #nerevarine #tes oc #tesblr

[somer-writes]

"my theory is the zonai become the twili eventually" Ah, I see you are a man of culture! Love seeing that people still subscribe to that theory!

the anon is so ominous XD /j

I mean how are they not!! The art is so similar and there’s way too many parallels imo

keep in mind that throughout tp the only twili we see are midna and zant as the others are all corrupt but presumably they look somewhat similar. Not quite hylian anyway

i find it extremely plausible that the zonai following rauru fall victim to seeking out more and more powerful magic until they are ultimately banished in the interloper war.

The zonai statues look similar to twili

Imo raurus clothing is similar to what we see at the very least midna wear. Theres long wraps/shawls and a lot of ornamentation

the cave under the castle has a similar sound design to TP

The sages maintain hyrule history and we know they essentially scrubbed the twili from the records

-> as a sub note we know there are 6 sages in OOT and TP. TOTK has 5 *however* Zelda is a sage which carries over from the timeline. In TP the water sage is killed by ganon, in TOTK the sages are all long gone. The sages in TP wear the masks of old men so who’s to say that TP isn’t the beginning of the sages downfall

the angular art design which relies on geometric patterns is very twili

the color palette is also v twili. We see a lot of teals as well as the zonais’ typical body color and the zonai ore is v twilight color

the curious part is how does this interact with skyward sword. Is it so far after skyward that the kingdom needs reestablished? Is it parallel to skyward?

the interlopers are banished by the gods but the zonai *arent* hylian. They have no reason to be reverent to hylia but they’re not one of the surface races in skyward. I think it’s entirely possible that the hylians move to the surface and the zonai simply remain undiscovered in the sky or come after.

Sonia is very clearly hylian to me so some thread of hylians must be present in the sky at least until her birth. She and rauru do not have descendants which leaves sky and suns line to royalty.

#somer answers #sorry for messy formatting #the zonai are too twili coded to be anything else imo #And we know they have a destructive thirst for power #Specifically bc draconification #And rauru himself is very power based #It makes sense too that ganon then establishes reverence in the twilight realm later on

[roboticchibitan]

9. so cute and sweet it doesn't need a sugar bowl

(had to eliminate a lot :)

10. teapot that's Seen Some Shit

thank you for tolerating my insane asks i know i sent a lot, im so happy i get to share these with someone that i forgot how to act 😔💖

Image description under cut due to length.

Listen. LISTEN. I have had so much fun with these asks even if it took me a while to answer them because I didn't have spoons to write image descriptions. Your responses to the prompts were so creative! Especially the first prompt, a teapot that definitely killed her first husband. Those ones were super funky. Loved it.

I'm sensing an animal theme in your so sweet and cute it doesn't need sugar selections. Also, I'm pretty sure the third one is the characters from Winnie the Pooh. They're all very cute! Also, your teapots that have seen some shit are also very funky and fun.

Good job! You're the second person ever to finish my teapot scavenger hunt! I will reblog this post in a few minutes with your medal! (I do long image descriptions on the computer, but use the meme generator app on my phone to make the medals).

Image description

8 photographs of teapots

Photograph 1: a house teapot with a frog standing in the open doorway. The frog is wearing pants, a shirt, and a jacket.

Photograph 2: a teapot in the shape of a mouse wearing a pink dress and hat, white apron, and blue shawl.

Photograph 3: a teapot in the shape of a table, with a bear, tiger, donkey, and one animal not visible in the picture sitting at it. The handle for the lid is a cake with one candle, and the animals are wearing party hats.

Photograph 4: a teapot in the shape of a yawning cat, with the mouth being the spout and the lid having a kitten on it.

Photograph 5: a teapot in the shape of a cat wearing a pink dress with a white apron and holding a little teapot that is the spout of the bigger teapot.

Photograph 6: a teapot in the shape of a white and pink couch. The couch has a cat sitting on the seat and a mouse sitting on the backrest.

Photograph 7: a teapot with multiple faces on it. The eyes are closed and above and below the faces are geometric patterns.

Photograph 8: a teapot in the shape of a blue face, with a red teapot hat. The teapot has three spouts coming out of the head, all lined up on the same side.

end ID.

#v rates teapots #cat teapot #mouse teapot #winnie the pooh teapot #couch teapot #house teapot #frog teapot #face teapot

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 37-38

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Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

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THIRTY SEVEN

"You look old," Baba Yaga said at last into the deadly silence, her Russian musical and cold.

Koschei flinched as if she'd slapped him. Nate slipped behind the Hag and Fedorov until he stood just between them and Dresden; close enough to be seen, but no so close that either Koschei or Stone tried to stop him.

"It's not you," the Blackbird choked out. "It can't be you. I took everything from you. Everything!"

"You stole," she snapped at him. "You're always trying to take power that's not yours -"

"It's mine -"

"It's too much -"

"IT'S MINE!" he shouted, and half the lights went out. The dock was thrown into chiaroscuro patterns from the floodlights just outside it and two fluorescent lights hanging on grimly. "If you cannot hold onto power, then it belongs to those who can."

"By that measure, if I can take your power away, it's mine to keep," she replied, and there was such menace in her voice even the golem shifted minutely away.

"You can do nothing," the wizard gritted out. "A hundred years I have plotted and planned and prepared. You may be able to cast a glamour and light a few lights, but so what? You don't have your mortar, you don't have your pestle, you don't even have your shawl!"

"Neither do you," Nate said evenly in English before anyone else could speak.

"You be silent, mortal!" Koschei threw his power at Ford in a flash of green light.

But Dresden, faster than him, rolled to his feet and skid to a halt between the mastermind and their mark. Power bloomed from him, from the black feathers stitched among the feathery motif embroidered into the wrists and neck and hem of his dress shirt - the Blackbird's own feathers, snatched from him that first time at the MFA. The power crashed into a shield wrought and empowered by those feathers, and bounced off. Dresden had guessed that Koschei would be the sort of wizard that always made sure his own magic couldn't hurt him on the rebound. Surprising no one (except perhaps himself), he'd been right.

Stunned, Koschei came to a halt. Nate stepped out to stand beside Dresden, his hands laced in front of him, unfazed. He hadn't even twitched when the Blackbird had moved to attack him. "I haven't lied to you yet, have I?"

"I do. not. CARE," Koschei screamed, pale with rage, the cords of muscle along his neck standing out starkly. "Bring her! Bring a dozen gods. Bring a hundred! Can your wizard protect them all? Can he do that while protecting the Prince of Thieves, her little friend? Will he choose between you and them? Between you and the Hag? Between -"

"I don't think you understand." Ford shrugged. "Why are you shouting? You've already lost."

Koschei bared his teeth. "If that is true, then it will be my pleasure to have you all lose with me," he growled low. "Unless you believe your pet wizard can stop mister Stone from killing you all?"

"No," Ford admitted readily, then pointed at the opposite side of the docks. "That's what he's for."

Seven tons of niuhi, teeth and talons and blue striped skin on a frame made of nothing but muscle, charged through the side of the building as if it weren't there. The wereshark crashed into the golem, who barely had time to turn, shoving off Parker and Jessamine to try and put up a defense. They both went flying into and through one of the yachts and into the water with a tremendous splash.

Parker threw herself over Jess; Fedorov covered Baba Yaga with his body. Koschei clenched his hands and let out a furious, wordless yowl, magic gathering around him like a storm, hungry and deadly.

"Dresden!" Nate yelled.

The wizard shoved the mastermind against the back wall, took a step forward and pointed his wand down, shouting a single word. "Forzare!"

The dock exploded. Boards went to splinters as if a giant fist had smashed into them from on high, showering the water with hail; the last of the lights exploded into brilliant sparks. Both Dresden and Koschei plummeted into the frothing surf.

Parker dragged Jess into the boat-house proper, where Sophie, who'd never actually left the boat-house, was waiting for them; the grifter slammed the door shut behind them. "So he's a bad grifter and a sore loser," she declared archly. "Who's surprised. Are you both alright?"

"I think so." Parker was far more concerned with her friend than with herself. "Jess?"

"I'm alright," the young curator wheezed. "Did that man just blow up the dock?"

"It gets complicated," Parker replied tightly before turning to Sophie. "Eliot and Hardison?"

The hitter had just poked his head out of the other yacht, to stare in stunned disbelief at the destruction one word and one gesture from the local wizard had wrought. Then he raced along the deck of the boat and threw his hands out. "Fedorov!"

The Russian and his companion were stranded on the only side of the docks that didn't have a door, to either the outside or the boat-house. Nate, at least, had a giant shark-shaped hole he could've used. All three of them ran for Eliot. "It seems every time we meet I have to get handsy with you, Grandmother," Vanya said in Russian, his tone light in spite of the situation. "What will you think of me."

Baba Yaga, still wearing Sophie's seeming, laughed once again, short and sharp, caught by surprise. "I will think what I already did of you," she replied cheerily.

He picked her up and helped her onto the boat, to Eliot's waiting hands, while Nate jumped onboard.

The covered dock had been built against the shallow beach by digging down and reinforcing the space with rip-rap: rocks roughly the size of a man's head. The end result was a narrow area that looked deep, but wasn't. The yachts, for all their size, didn't break six feet on draft. At its deepest part the channel leading to the dock was fifteen feet, just outside the building. From there it angled up precipitously until it reached the more-or-less solid ground where the mansion's gardens began.

Which meant Dresden, who'd been closer to the artificial shore, could actually stand up abruptly from among the flotsam, choking and bedraggled like a half-drowned cat, climbing up the slope toward the hole the niuhi had left in the wall.

"Dresden!" Nate shouted a warning.

The wizard turned, thrown off-balance by his waterlogged clothing, just in time to throw his hand up and empower the feather-shield as actinic fire came boiling out at him from the water. It sloshed around the shield, making it ripple, pouring around and over it like poisonous syrup, and wherever it splashed the torn wood, drywall and plastic of the building crackled, froze and shattered.

Koschei, looking like a bird that's gone for a bath it neither planned nor wanted, rose to the surface of the churning water and stepped lightly on it. It froze where he went in awkward little waves. "I am going to make a footstool out of you, Dresden," the Blackbird hissed.

"No, thanks," Leverage's wizard replied blithely. "Not a fan of chintz."

The second yacht suddenly went stumbling sideways with an almighty crunch, crashing hard into the section of the dock that was still standing. Everyone on board stumbled. "Nate!" Eliot called out. "We're taking on water!"

A gale of wind came out of nowhere and threw Koschei back in the water. Dresden managed to scrabble onto solid ground and tried to race for the boat-house.

A massive sheet of ice erupted from the deep end of the docks and raced forward, jagged and vast, locking everything in its grip, flotsam, the sinking yacht, the ruins of its twin. Harry slipped and went down, and only one of the boat-house's walls stopped him, none too gently. The ice stopped the yacht from further going down for a moment, but then a hand punched through the ice and grabbed the aft ladder, and the boat groaned and shifted uneasily as mister Stone dragged himself partially out of the water, his fancy clothes in tatters.

Koschei passed up through the ice as if he were a ghost, power seething around him.

"Kostya!" Grandmother shouted in Russian. "Do not do this! You know how the stories always end. Let it go!"

"I have not come this far to give up now because of a fairy tale!" he spat at her before turning to Dresden and switching to English. "How dare you believe you, any of you, can stand against me."

"Reasons abound," the younger wizard wheezed. He'd managed to roll to his feet, ready to take on whatever spell the Blackbird threw at him.

But instead of attacking, Koschei drew the twisted, blackened staff out of nowhere and gestured at the ice, drawing up a mirror-perfect, thin sheet of ice the size of a door. Nate, from the boat, saw Harry's eyes go wide. A gout of fire came from the wizard, but Koschei threw up a shield as he spoke in a rough, growling tongue.

The mastermind exhaled sharply, and saw his breath come out as a plume in what should have been Boston's warm summer air, and the world slowed down to a crawl, ringing faintly against his ears. The darkness gleamed like reflections from a jewel, shattering all around him.

There would be no more comfortable lies for him. There would be no more denying. There were two wizards fighting on a plane of ice not fifty feet from him. A man that wasn't one was trying to climb onto their boat to get away from a shark that liked to walk as a man. The world was not what it seemed, it never had been, and Nathan Ford could no longer pretend that he knew all that there was to know. Leshy sprang out of the portal Koschei had summoned out of nowhere, and reality slammed back into place for the mastermind. So be it. If the world must change, he would change with it. The job still needed to be done. "Hardison, now!"

Leshy, Dresden had explained, were creatures of the Nevernever, the elusive world that paralleled Nate's own. But they were of neither. Unaffiliated fairies that only barely looked to Summer, they had no rules, but also no protection beyond their own numbers. Their behavior was defined by their nature, and their nature was that of a hare, always ready for a fight, to kick and bite - and always on the lookout for predators.

Hardison, just outside the hole in the wall, pulled out of his pocket the phone he'd gotten from the spider. In the seething maelstrom of magical energies coming from the boat-house it was the only piece of technology that was still working. He used it to remotely drive not Lucille 2.0 but the u-Haul van, the back of which was full of things he'd hardly ever thought he'd get to use, like cathode tubes and transistors the size of his fist. He had one screen, one radio transmitter, a keyboard that was so profoundly and mechanically loud he twitched at the very thought of having to use it.

And Mouse.

A black, sleek, unmarked van would have immediately pinged the awareness of the security staff at the mansion. But people are used to seeing u-Haul vans. They're used for much more than just moving, on reason of being both cheap and basically indestructible. The doors might not close, the brakes might need pumping, the gas might stick at fifty, a hundred things might be broken in it, but by golly it will get you from Point A to Point B, somehow. By the time the u-Haul van made it down the driveway and jumped the curb onto the perfectly manicured lawn, it was too late for security to stop it, and most of them were busy trying to keep the guests from leaving, anyway.

The hacker brought the van to a rattling, skidding stop next to the hole in the wall and opened a door, and the young Temple mastiff catapulted out with a snarl that brought the hackles up on every creature in the boat-house, even if they didn't have them. The leshy coming through the portal froze, every head whipping around to that sound.

Eliot took a running start and shoulder-checked Stone off the yacht. The hitter rebounded and fell on his back, stunned, his shoulder on fire, but Stone, his balance too precarious, went flying back and crashed through the sheet of ice, sinking like, well, a stone.

Mouse barked. It sounded like a gun going off. The leshy turned and tried to sprint back into the portal, but Koschei destroyed with a furious litany of curses. The fairy thugs scattered instead and the Russian wizard turned to point his staff at the dog gleefully chasing panicking rabbits all over the place. A beautiful right cross caught him on the cheek and sent him flying onto the last bit of the docks abutting the boat-house, too stunned to make a sound, unable to breathe, his staff flying out of his hands.

Vanya Fedorov, wearing the blessed silver knuckles, slipped lightly on the ice and climbed after the wizard with cold, deadly murder in his face. "I will not be sold," he said in Russian. His voice was lethally calm, his teeth gritted. Koschei made the mistake to try and get up, and Fedorov punched him again, sending him sprawling inelegantly. "I will not trust my fate to a man who sees me as a toy. I am not your pawn to be offered to your friends for favors, for power, for wealth."

"You are an ill-mannered child -" Koschei threw up a shield as he struggled to his knees.

Vanya brought up his other hand and punched right through the shimmering energy as if it were not there; the knuckles on that one were lead and iron. "This child knows how to make allies, rather than buying loyalty with fear and lies. I know that sometimes the truth is all you need. So here is some truth for you, Blackbird: stay down, or I will make you stay down."

Koschei struggled to draw one breath. "I will see you all dead for this," he gasped, turning on his back, lifting himself up on his elbows. He grinned manically up at the Russian enforcer. "You would be a hero, would you, little prince," he hissed in Russian. "Very well. Let's see what sort of a hero, you are."

The portal opened just shy of the nets that festooned the naked beams of the roof. A low, seething sound, the rasping of scales against scales, filled the air, and the chaos came to a complete halt in the blink of an eye.

A mass of shifting coils, each one as large around as a man, appeared out of nowhere and began to descend. Green and black, they glowed with an inner, vitriolic light, as if of a fire burning behind stained glass. There was no beginning or end to them.

Very clearly, in the abrupt silence, everyone heard Dresden's voice. "Oh, crap."

The leshy bolted. The dog, that eternal enemy, was suddenly not the top of their priorities. They trampled everything and everyone, including each other, in their panicked haste.

"What is it?" Nate asked of the false Sophie next to him.

"Zmei Gorynich," she replied, staring. "A Great Serpent."

Eliot didn't like the sound of that. At all. "A f- He - He called up a friggin' dragon?!"

The mass of coils began to disentangle itself, spreading out as it descended. Rippling vanes, sails stitched onto jutting, dagger-like bone, unfolded along its sides. A dry, cruel heat was beginning to radiate from it, a pervasive scent filling the air, of forests burnt to ash, homes reduced to rubble and coal.

"A young one, but yes."

Eliot didn't even know what to say to that.

"Out, now," Nate commanded. "Off the boat. We need solid ground."

"You will not ask me to help?" she asked him, curious and surprised.

"Well, we're here to rescue you," the mastermind pointed out as they all rushed to the other side of the yacht, where the ice and violence had pressed the deck of it closer to what was left of the docks. "Seems kind of rude to make you work for it."

She looked terribly amused.

"Besides, can you?"

"No. I do not have the power to singe his hair right now." She looked at the zmei. "But you do not need me anyway."

The zmei hadn't even fully uncoiled itself when Leverage's wizard shouted something out and force, invisible and irresistible, slammed it back up through the roof, canoes and kayaks, netting and roofing flying everywhere and launching the creature entirely out of sight.

THIRTY EIGHT

I had honestly thought that, even for Koschei, the Golden Bear was it. The limit. I could barely wrap my head around a wizard being able to summon what is basically a sort of, kind of, almost demi-god from the Nevernever.

I hadn't expected him to be able to summon two.

My first gut response was to try and throw the dragon back through the portal that had brought it in, but Koschei had already closed it. I saw Fedorov flatten the wizard one last time, but it was too late. The dragon was here, and it was here to stay. Unconscious or not, the Blackbird had cut a deal with it, and I very much doubted anyone there had a counteroffer it would be willing to consider.

I wasn't sure if the dragon of Russian fairy tales was an actual dragon. The name translates to a sort of serpent, Bob had explained to me. They're treacherous, cunning, greedy. Unlike the Golden Bear, which can be impressed into joining the good guys occasionally, the Great Serpent doesn't care to serve any interests but its own. They can spit fire, poison or ice, sometimes weirder things, like lightning or a combination of elements. Their scales can only be pierced by magic or by their own power, mirrored back at them, which was how they were defeated in most stories.

You know, typical fairy-tale dragon bullshit.

We were, once again, as outgunned as we'd been at the museum.

Mouse rushed to my side, staring up at the hole along with me. The dragon escaped my blast and came arrowing down, hissing like an angry teakettle. It wasn't fast, I noted distractedly. Agile, yes, it could turn on a dime. But it wasn't particularly quick when it flew, and I would have bet money it was because in mid-air it couldn't get proper traction. It touched down on the ice and it melted instantly. As it looked down in surprise, lifting up once again, I gestured at it with my bad hand. "Frigitas."

Ice closed in on it, the water freezing once again, trapping the gleaming coils. I didn't have my staff, and I'm much better with fire, but I didn't need a fine touch at the moment. I needed to hit hard, hit fast, and hit anything I could. I was counting on Boston to help me along, to maybe slow it down some.

I wasn't counting on the North Atlantic to pitch in.

I'd felt it the moment I'd fallen in the water. I'm used to the Lake; like I'd told Leverage, it's good for grounding magic, for getting your bearings, throwing off excess energy, that kind of thing. I'd tapped a storm once, felt the power of it coursing through me and I'd known then that it could kill me if I so much as blinked. You don't mess with Mother Nature unless you're willing to take your licks. But this was the ocean, the planet for all intents and purposes. We humans like to think that the dirt we stand on is the ruling principle of the world, just like we like to believe we're the ruling species. We're wrong on both counts. True power was the seething tide trapped beneath the ice just under my feet. Even Boston,with its neverending trickle of energy, was nothing compared to it. The storm had given me a chance; the North Atlantic wouldn't even notice snuffing me out.

Ice rose in jagged teeth, raced over the zmei, caught its coils and blew up in clouds of overheated steam, water sublimating, going directly from solid to gas. The serpent whistled in fury and pain, thrashing, sending chunks of ice flying in every direction. It turned on me; its eyes were a goat's, and somehow that made them even more unreasonably unpleasant on that long reptilian muzzle. Gills opened along its neck, and I threw my shield up, going down on one knee to try and brace myself. If the thing breathed poison I, and everyone else there, would be flat out of luck; no shield would stop that.

Instead, lightning crashed into my shield and sent me skidding back, sprays of sparks bursting out of the bracelet. The zmei paused after a moment, when it realized it was not getting through, head cocked and sails fluttering lightly. Electricity was crackling all over it, occasionally reaching a jagged line to touch the beams above, the boat-house, the walls - wherever metal or, more likely, the electrical systems in the structures nearby called to it.

"Koldun," it whispered, its voice a low, barely audible breeze.

"That's me," I admitted.

It blew another blast at me. My shield was still holding, but the bracelet was getting awfully warm.

The zmei stopped, this time in answer to movement out of the corner of its eye, where it had just seen the three people hiding behind the second yacht. Before it could get any ideas, I took the chance to give my shield a break, threw my hand up and called up the power thrumming just under my feet. "Aestus!

Water roared upward in a broad column, filled with blocks of ice as my improvised attack further shattered the sheet of ice Koschei had created. The zmei got thrown hard against the beams of the ceiling, and then crashed down onto the water when I let go of my spell. It launched itself a me, moving through the air like a snake moves through water. Its mouth was a nightmare of way too many teeth. I put my shield up and it bowled me over, into Mouse, who leapt aside and snarled at it, distracting it just long enough for me to call up a gale. I battered it with every piece of debris I could snatch up; it didn't hurt it, but it did distract it. I couldn't see Fedorov or Koschei, I could only hope they'd gone inside the house. I knew Hardison was behind me unless he, too, had gone around and into the boat-house. And I had no idea if Eliot, Ford and Grandmother were still hiding behind the other boat.

Teeth like filleting knives skid over my shield, leaving energy afterimages on it. I hadn't come prepared to take on a dragon, and even if I had, Koschei had taken most of my tools. All I had was what Parker had given me back and what Stone's people hadn't found when they frisked me: my pendant, the pin, my wand and my shield-bracelet. I was throwing magic by the seat of my pants, and while Boston could empower me, there was a limit to what even the city could do. My biggest source of power was also the most dangerous, lapping at my feet in rumpled little waves.

The zmei recoiled back and breathed lightning on me again. If I'd had my other bracelet, the one I'd improvised, I could have probably thrown at least some of that power back at it. And then I realized: I couldn't redirect that power, but I could ground it.

I was going to need a fine touch, though. When it stopped for a breath I threw a gout of fire in its face, just to make it recoil. "Mouse, find me a stick." My dog gave me such a look. "A staff! Something I can use as a staff!"

He ran off, scrabbling through the wreck I'd made of the area. I threw another shield up when the zmei came at me, dug into the power Boston was giving me and peeled off several of the big stones that lined the area, throwing them at its mouth, its eyes. I kept up a steady whirlwind loaded with shrapnel to tear at the sails on its sides; it was flying by magic, I knew that, but that magic had to be focused somewhere, and it was a little too protective of its 'wings' for me not to go for the obvious target.

It twisted and writhed, it turned into a knot and unraveled in mid-air, coming at me from every direction, its breath looking for any slip-up in my attention, growing angrier and angrier the longer I balked it. Behind it, I saw a tidal surge coming in our direction; something in my expression must have given it away, because it too turned to look and rose up for the safety of the ceiling.

The wave crested still a ways off and I saw Stone at the apex of it, struggling against something that wouldn't let him go. Nick rammed through what was left of the ice and docks; they didn't slow him down. He crashed, golem leading, into the ground, swamping the area minutely. I felt the impact through the soles of my feet. It was powerful enough that both golem and niuhi ended up partially out on the ground.

Moused whacked gently at my shin. He'd found part of an oar, the broad end gone. Tail wagging, he offered it to me.

"Good boy. Get out of here, go find Parker." A plan had come together in my head. It was a horrible plan so, you know. My usual. But I was pretty sure it was going to work. I may not be awake, or alive, at the end of it, but I was also used to that.

First things first, though. I pointed the staff at the churning water. "Aestus venitus!"

The sea answered; geysers of water rose up, hunting for the zmei. It blasted one with its breath, twisted out of the way of another. It was too busy dancing to notice I'd grabbed for my pendant, the one piece of metal I was wearing that I knew better than my own bones, and that didn't have a dedicated enchantment on it to get in the way of what I was trying to do. Through it I reached out to the first step of my plan.

All ships above a certain size need an anchor. When they get big enough, they need that anchor even when they're moored, but the yachts were small, as things go, maybe thirty, forty feet long. I didn't know if they'd been anchored to begin with, but I did know that at least in one case, it didn't matter, and that was enough. I reached out with my will to the metal of that chain, that anchor, among the wreck of the sunken yacht and somewhere in the guts of the other one.

Anchor chains are one of those things that you make out of metal both to show off and because anything else is going to get sliced through. I found them both exactly where I thought they would be.

The zmei lunged at me from the shadows of the ceiling, illuminated by its own burning inner fire. I brought my staff up and pointed it at the dragon. "Enough."

The chains came uncoiling out like vipers, one out of the water and the other blasting through the hull of the yacht, sending it further listing to that side. They darted and lunged at the zmei like living things, empowered by my will and my emotions. It tried, unsurprisingly, to breathe lightning at one of them, but the metal didn't care. The loose end punched the zmei in the face, shattered several fangs, and wound about its body like a constrictor, while its twin did the same in the opposite direction.

The dragon whistled and hissed in fury, writhing, coiling, uncoiling in every direction. I pointed my staff at the second yacht and yanked the anchor out of it, sending it tumbling into the water. When the zmei tried to breathe lightning, it instead went into the chains and into the water, where the ocean absolutely didn't care how many temper tantrums the creature threw.

The yacht was beginning to sink at an alarming rate, though, and from behind it I heard an irate "Dammit, Harry!"

"Sorry!" I yelled back at Eliot, belatedly realizing I had forgotten one key part of the plan which very much involved the yacht, namely the portrait currently stashed in it. The zmei, however, meant that plans were, unfortunately, secondary to dealing with it. The chains were holding, but the heat was rising, and I knew what that meant. Eventually the metal would simply melt, or grow soft enough for it to break its bindings. I had to get to the second half of my plan, fast. "Ford, can you hear me?" I said, hoping the little shard of enchanted mirror embedded on the pin at my throat still worked.

"Yeah!" Another shout from behind the yacht.

"Good. Get out. Now. Stone!"

The golem was trying to hold back the jaws of the niuhi as they bore down on him, Nick on all fours and pressing him down relentlessly. His clothing was mostly gone, revealing the seamless, flawless body underneath, literally. He had no wrinkles, no scars, no freckles, nothing. Not even nipples. "Wizard," the golem replied, his voice strained.

"Koschei's not your original employer, is he?"

"No. Mister Act was."

"I know a man who can make you a better offer than both of them put together."

Nick drove the golem a few inches into the shale and ground, but still couldn't get close enough to put another bite into him, taloned hands and feet digging furrows as he tried.

"Your price?"

"Walk away."

"Somewhat impossible at the moment."

"Nick, let him go."

The niuhi stepped back. It was so sudden that Stone actually nearly went down and had to catch himself on one hand. The wereshark chuckled, and it came out a horrible gargling sound. His black eyes never left the golem.

"Define walk away, wizard."

"I mean, stay if you want." I had been wearing really expensive black shoes to the party; I kicked them off and stepped barefoot into the churning water. It was shockingly cold but, beyond that, it was like touching the surface of the sun. There was so much power, so much energy, not dormant, merely untouched, answering to far more primal and basic principles than a single skinny wizard's will. I drew in as much as I dared, and then a little more. I felt as if I were coming undone, going to nothing, becoming part of that vast primordial soup, a little bit of life made to go to and fro with the pull of wind and moon and gravity. It took everything I had just to hang onto me, onto my sense of self.

I pushed.

The tide began to recede. The second yacht sank down, its hull grinding against the stones. The remains of the dock collapsed. The sounds of the surf faded.

Stone turned and ran. Nick turned, saw what I was doing and threw his arms out, laughing wildly, a deeply inhuman sound. The zmei fought wildly against its bounds.

It wasn't hard to do; that surprised me. The water, once pushed, wanted to push back. What was hard was not letting the wave become as big as it wanted to be. I pushed it back while holding onto the sides of it, trying to keep it contained, but I was a wisp of breath in a cyclone. I was not even a drop of water in the vast belly of the monster I'd awakened. Every bit of power I pulled on to try and keep control whispered at me to let go. To stop being. There would be no sorrow if I let go, no anger. There would only be the tide and the wind and the moon, the currents, the sunny shallows, the black abyssal depths. There would be no me to hurt anymore, no more loss, no more loneliness.

As offers go, I honestly can't think of many that have been so damn tempting.

But then I could push no more. The press of the water was too great, and I let go and fell back on myself. "Nick, you there?"

"Yes. I am glad to be here, wizard. To see what you have done." I felt one hand pick me up, the first awareness I had that I'd gone down on my knees. There was a low roar slowly building up all around us. The air, which the zmei had overheated, was swiftly growing cold, and a rising wind was blowing the steam of its power clear of the area.

"I'd like to remind you I need to breathe. Air. I need to breathe air."

Nick laughed cheerfully. He'd gone back to being a human, naked and tattooed and scarred. "I will not let you drown, wizard. You are far too much fun to have around." He picked me straight up in a bridal carry and ran right at the tidal wave I'd summoned. The last thing I heard was the panicked whistling of the zmei as its doom bore down on it.

#my writing #fanfiction #crossover #the dresden files #leverage #harry dresden #nathan ford #sophie deveraux #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #urban fantasy

[journeyman-tier-fibercraft]

Took exactly 1 month and 1 week (including the week I took off) to finish this bad boy. I don't have the energy/ability to block this man despite how desperately he needs it (and i'm putting off weaving in the ends) but I think he's beautiful regardless.

Pattern/Yarn info and other thoughts below

Shawl Smorgasbord by Stephen West, knit in Cloudborn Fibers Highland Fingering in Shaela Heather (107), Taupe Heather (02), and Stone Heather (03). Cloudborne Fibers Alpaca & Highland Natural in Graphite Heather (109) and Espresso Heather (110).

Very happy with how the border turned out despite my winging it. I'm still not a super big on the chevrons and how they distort the shape BUT if they start behaving once they're blocked out I'll probably love them too.

He's very large and warm, unblocked his wingspan is about 70 inches and his depth is about 30 inches. Which is smaller than I would expect based on the blocked measurements but the yarn I used is a very light fingering (494 yards to 100 grams compared to the recommended yarn's 400 yards per 100 grams).

I've never knit such a large project in fingering, this yarn was incredible for it (despite being loose 2 ply I barely had any issues with splitting and found this yarn incredibly easy to knit with even without looking at it which is unusual for fingering for me). Very annoyed that it's discontinued but now I know what to look for in animal fibers. Handwashing my wools might be annoying but I like this 2-ply significantly better than typical sock yarns.

For the pattern specifically I'll certainly knit it again. Six dollars felt extreme for a pattern after however long (100 hours maybe?) it seems perfectly fine. I've already picked out another Stephen West pattern to use more of this yarn with that I'll probably start soonish. His pattern writing style isn't my preference (lace patterns have ruined me and now I'm a chart truther), but the pattern itself was clear and well explained. Aesthetically the only main problem is still the border. I'm also not a large fan of the criss-cross stitch but I haven't thought of a good solution. Other than those two I really enjoy the texture of this pattern. I'd be interested in seeing it knit in all one solid colour but I'm not sure I'd be willing to do that lmao. The last couple sections + border also severely dragged to knit. However I'm not sure if I'm just having adhd "i can't physically finish anything" or if it's because I'm currently ill or if it's just so fucking hot in this room that knitting with wool was killing me. Or maybe the rows were just over 650 stitches. The next shawl with this yarn is allegedly slightly smaller. But still smaller.

Overall this shawl was a very enjoyable knit. I wish the yarn wasn't discontinued but I also got it extremely cheap because it is discontinued so now I know my preferences better. The pattern itself was worth the price. However this shawl absolutely needs blocking (and probably pretty aggressive blocking at that) so it probably wouldn't be nearly as successful in a non animal fiber. Acrylic Might work with steam blocking but I'd expect it to have a difficult time laying flat/not distorting.

#knitting #knitblr #finished object #knitted shawl #lace rot #project: shawl 12 #shout out to writing a novel about knitting i love this for me #hopefully i'll stop being sick soon. this pattern was nice to have while ill but i would like to do other things #I wanted to do a complex lace project between this shawl and the next one with this yarn but I might do a simple hat or something #actually this would be a good time for the tank top pattern i have picked out thinking emoji #also i didn't update this shawl between my last post and this one because this is my 100th post on this blog #and i wanted it to be this shawl finished #so it is! and now 100 posts! poggers!!!

[nochi-quinn]

candela obscura chapter 3 episode 2: h2WOAH that was fun (lie)

I love aabria's necklace

gotta go for the head

mermaid scales on gina?

I would think that would be more disorienting than anything

"ptsd time's over, get back to work"

god, having to piece stories back together out of what other people remember

too real dial it back

is this a weird time to point out that this might be the first time sam has actually looked his height at the table

he slouches, I don't know what to tell you

ashly's little look down and away at "what elsie did"

"I don't have any right to be angry. but I am so here we go"

sam oscar brent riegel I'm gonna mcfucking fight you

Who Wants To Live Forever

samuel

as noshir tries very hard not to corpse

these two are gonna kill me and I swear it's not because of HZD shipping

"you're awfully quiet madame glask" "what the FUCK do I say to that"

ykw between that and the pattern on the shawl I'm calling it, mermaid glask

me: lowkey zoned out aabria: backrooms me: wh

Unabridged??

Sexy Nun Propoganda

who's flashing the old man

"how old is he" "old as balls"

oh it's whatsherface from the old guard

see I called it he beats people with the chain

already homebrewing shit out of their own system

whups

"electric event" excuse

"sorry I killed the million-year-old man do you hate me"

SIR

"ewwwwwwwwww" "nice touch"

aabria that was an UNNECESSARY addition

"I'm acting like a cop, so I'm just acting real dumb"

not the la cucaracha

oscar wears red crocs, it's canon

"my immersion!"

"fluttering your eyelashes at the GM after you roll like shit" is always one of my favorite things

lmao liam's accent drop

"you sound exactly like ttrpg star Liam O'Brien!" "that hack?"

sea glask

I have been fully zoned out, which is not the show's fault, I'm just so tired

I have very little idea of what's going on but I think glask just adopted a god-child

WELP I'm awake now thanks aabria

rajan passenger princess confirmed

liam: hold up gotta make it sad

sam: hold up gotta make it sad

candela obscura: secure, contain, protect

this game just beat the fuck out of glask huh

"just leave it"

no more scene, I need sleep. I needed sleep an hour and a half ago

"in the hammerspace of whoever grabbed it"

#critical role #spoilers #crititag #liveblog #reaction post #candelatag

[stealthnoodle]

Ice Pond Thou Art, to Ice Pond Returneth: Let's Finish(?) Tears of the Kingdom

We're finishing the plot, anyway. All of the spoilers!

Sidequest clean-up time! I am getting up to such antics

Monster decorations: check

Freezing my tits off in the desert while holding up a giant mirror: check

House? check!

I'm sorry but I am literally 12 years old right now:

I wasn't going to chase after dragon!Zelda just yet but she appeared literally right in front of me so I figured I might as well hitch a ride on her and make Link sad.

Da-da-da-daaaa in a minor key:

For some reason I'd been assuming I couldn't dye my sexy thunder shawl but nope! What lovely news for me and fashion aficionados everywhere!

Puzzling with the Boner Squad

I'M STILL 12

A lot of people just come out around me! It's a gift.

Sure do!

Truly, no one can resist my charms.

Bitch I DELVED:

I know I said collecting all the bubbul gems would be my Cruella de Vil origin story, so call me Emma Stone because I have lost my entire goddamn mind. Fewer than 20 remain and Koltin is no longer offering me hints for some reason? Whatever, I'm not doing it for him anymore. I'm doing it for ME.

I have looked up a map of caves and I WILL spelunk each one, mark my words

Oh right we got some caves in the GODDAMN SKY, WHERE CAVES DON'T BELONG

I'm fine I'm fine

One more and the eye strain ends. Squinting from the map on my laptop to the in-game map on my TV. Oho, Death Mountain, I see you now!

FUCKEN GOT EM

Shine on, you crazy diamond bubbul gem. Maybe someday I'll smack you around for rupees. Until then, I will think of you and your completionist nightmare sidequest every time I glide through the air with my fancy new paraglider pattern.

Okay I can finish the plot now

I am doing this final stretch of mini-dungeon the way the goddess intended: by throwing down my traveler's medallion and popping back for more sundelion dishes before getting back to it.

At long last I have killed a lionel, and I started with a gloom lionel because why not. Bitch was in my way.

Me when the sun rises before 7:00am:

Let's see how many Ganon phases we get! Dueling Ganon. Big Hair Boner Squad Ganon. Big Hair One-on-One Ganon. Ganon Become Dragon.

Why does everyone but Link get to scarf down a tasty magatama treat? UNFAIR

At least I look good thrashing around between Ganon's giant dragon teeth:

Took me a second to realize what I was meant to be doing but this was a pleasantly cinematic fight phase with lots of catching little rides on Zelda's big fuzzy dragon head.

Game removed my good hat >:( but also removed my shirt :) so I feel like we're half on the same page.

Guess we're not getting an ending where Link joins Zelda on an eternal draconic frolic, which on the one hand, yes, my girl deserves a happy ending, but on the other, "dragon" is a whole new gender spectrum Link should get to explore.

Game ALSO removed my cool arm. :< Now how am I gonna remodel my house?

Grabbing Zelda as she falls would be a lot easier with Ultrahand, just sayin

At this point, is Zelda, like Marvin from Hitchhiker's Guide, older than the universe itself? My girl's been through it

My robot girlfriend is moving on to robot girlfriend heaven. This too is yuri.

And I am moving on to fucking around endlessly, but first, there's only one way I can end this, right?

Back to the ice pond, baby. I made myself a little blue cultist outfit and everything:

That's all, folks!

#stealthnoodle plays loz: tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #video #apologies to florence + that machine of hers #what a good game #my dreams will be haunted indefinitely by bubbul gems in hard to reach places #no i have still not figured out the actual purpose of the ice pond #no i will not look it up #yes i will probably throw myself into it again

[egophiliac]

whoops I did another one

I’m getting used to Spine 4.0, and figured why not do a Najma while I’m at it! despite all the issues I think she came out a lot better and more on-model than my past attempts (maybe someday I’ll go back and redo poor Che’nya a third time). the secret really is to just throw gradients onto everything!

I had planned on trying to do the little dance from the rhythmic but...time vs effort and all that. :’) so imagine she’s just over to the side clapping along!

#art #twisted wonderland #gif warning #gifs that will steal jamil's lunch warning #do i just...like characters who steal food #maybe #absolutely the breakout star of the event #imagine people starting twst post-event and being like #...who the heck is najma #if she shows up again please let her wear something easier to draw #that shawl pattern KILLED me

[moramew]

there are so many cute crochet patterns on etsy that i would love to buy, but i am absolutely fucking hopeless at reading patterns because i’m one of those “i need to see it being done” learners

i would pay so much if there were video tutorials attached to them. like, yeah, there are ones people put up for free on youtube, but it’s not of these super cool patterns plus i really want to support these people ya know

#my body is trying to kill me so i'm looking at cute things #there was a sunflower blanket i'd like to try to make #but i can't read patterns >:c #one of my projects i am starting though is a calendar blanket vis a vis making a granny square a day #so that's fun #i want to make a shawl with my caron cake yarn too

[roboticchibitan]

[Image ID: The beginning of a cobweb lace wedding veil laid spread out on a cable needle. The lace has zig zags and traditional Shetland lace patterns in it. End ID]

[Image ID: the beginning of a magenta lace shawl, measuring about three inches down the center. End ID]

Lace rot time. Cobweb edition. Well, the magenta is between lace and cobweb weight. It's 2/26 recycled cashmere. Ripped on me twice during swatching but it's held up since then (so far). Probably would be better for weaving but I still haven't set up my loom and I don't have a high enough DPI reed for that anyway. So knitting it is. I'm going to add purple beads once they arrive!

I knit for maybe half an hour today (these pics are both from yesterday). Had to stop cuz my thumb is angry and there's a huge barometric pressure shift today so my hands and pretty much everything else are killing me. I've been dropping things cuz my hands give out. Hurt to lift a cup of tea. I'm slowly going insane bc I desperately want to knit and I can't. But here's what I'm working on, for the curious.

#lace rot disease #lace for the lace gods #v's fiber arts tag #knitting #magenta shawl #shetland wedding veil

[filthforfriends]

who: Ethan

what: fluff

when: day time

where: Tiny hole in the wall record store

why: The band is stuck in New York for a couple days because of flights being a bitch. So they go exploring and find a sign that takes them down an alley to the store. The lady at the counter is there and Ethan finds a Muse.

"It smells like old people."

"I think that's a good thing, means it's authentic."

"Guys, don't be rude," Ethan scolds. All four of them traipsing through Hell's Kitchen was a sight, but what better way to kill time. An epic storm in the middle of the Atlantic had delayed their flights. Victoria dragged Thomas over to the Joni Mitchell records. Damiano was flipping through the many glam rock live albums, some of which were actually made in the 80s. Ethan perused the isles, people watching just as much as record shopping.

Various characters moseyed around the store. An old man with a rat-sized dog that also resembled a rat and a couple of people in giant coats the reeked of mildew There was a group of high schoolers who were obviously trying on the hipster identity, chattering excitedly. Of course there was some vintage record fanatic with his glasses down to the tip of his nose, squinting and gaffing at rough edges.

Ethan wasn't planning on buying anything and lugging it to the other side of the world until he saw the Deep Purple records. He flipped through the discography at record speed, in search of their Made in Japan live album.

"Ian Paice rules," said a voice next to him.

"Yeah he's one of my idols." Ethan didn't look up when he spoke, too focused on his quest.

"So you're a drummer then?"

"I am actually," he responded, pleasantly surprised. Most people saw the hair and didn't figure anyone behind a kit would bother with it. When he looked up he was met with garish clash of color and pattern. A textured skirt over psychedelic, 70s trousers. Some sort of short sleeve chiffon blouse over a bright orange long sleeve with a Stevie Nicks' shawl on top. When Ethan's eyes finished the epic journey to this person's face, he found it surprisingly bare of makeup, adorned with only eyeliner and freckles.

"I'm Ona, and you should listen to this." Ironically, an album with the word Rainbow on the cover was thrust into his hands. "It doesn't have Paice, but it's part of that whole convoluted, family that started with Deep Purple." Ethan was struggling to keep his grin close-lipped. It was rare to meet people that nerded out over this particular niche of music. Most people only cared for the enigma of Ozzy Osbourne and raw power of Black Sabbath.

"Thank you," he exclaimed, trying to put enough emphasis on the words and failing. "Really! This is...this is really cool. Who is it? Or -sorry my English isn't very good"

"Its chill. My mom speaks basically no English, so I'm good with accents. It's Richie Blackmore's band. If you ever find an album that says Blackmore's Rainbow it's valuable. They didn't print those for long." Ona points out where the title would be different and their hand brushes Ethans. He's aware of exactly how close they're standing, can maybe even feel the heat from their body as they speak.

"I'm surprised he convinced anyone to be in a band with him. again."

"Right?" He adores the squawking laugh Ona lets out and the round apples of their cheeks as they smile. He can imagine making a drum groove in the style of their voice's cadence. The kick drum would be the beating heart and the high hat their giggle. Even the creak of their boots as the rock back on heel has a compelling rhythm.

"Can I record the way you talk?" Ona's eye brows raise in surprise.

"You're the one with the cute accent, babe."

"I -" Ethan feels himself blush, and looks back at the record. "You remind me of a song I want to write. I'm not sure how to say it." His hands gesticulate as he struggles, but no better words come. "Cazzo," he mutters. Ona reaches out a delicate hand to rest on Ethan's wrist, assuringly.

"Fuck the English language, thats the best compliment anyone has ever given me in this life."

the album:

the convoluted family tree:

send me a who/what/when/where/why blurb request!

#w5 filthforfriends #maneskin #ethan maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #måneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio blurb #maneskin blurb