we support women's wrongs

[almostdailywarcriminal]

hello i'm Lou (they/them). i love Outis. this blog is for me to draw my wife as often as possible. Almost Daily, at least.

you are welcome to drop suggestions for drawing Outis in the ask box. I will only draw her romantically with women (if you see Hong Lu on this blog, that's because she's a woman to me).

Check out my general art blog here, where I draw other stuff.

Current projects:

Draw Every Outis ID (limited color palette)

[almostdailywarcriminal]

i don't know what i'm doing with poses rn we are just in sketchy sketchy phase

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Check out the W.O.M.E.N. community on Discord - hang out with 6 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.

Made a Project Moon queer woman focused server. Note that it isn't strictly f/f-related; I'm cool with m/f or gen content so long as it centers queer women. We can also chit-chat about project moon in general, etc etc.

The server is 18+ and has a joining app to filter out bots. We don't allow incest/underage shipping content within the server, but are otherwise chill with whatever you wanna throw out.

This is not an RP server-- it's more for fanfic/fanart creators, people who wanna share headcanons, and general chit-chat.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

good news: matthoutis is making me wanna draw again.

bad news, i guess: very little of it is going to be tumblr safe.

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JUST REMEMBERED VALENCINA RODION CONFIRMED I HATE IT HERE

[almostdailywarcriminal]

good news: matthoutis is making me wanna draw again.

bad news, i guess: very little of it is going to be tumblr safe.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

We love outis

outis is the greatest

[almostdailywarcriminal]

rodya and outis are ideal butch-femme 2 me i will elaborate if given the chance

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this is not a promise to return but it is an outis so

gonna probably redraw this one.

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i've been mostly writing fanfic lately i'm sorry have a shitpost to make up for my absence.

might be working on a queer woman centric limbus community and it needed an icon, so yanno. chose a friend's favorite and we do not need to guess my favorite.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

coughs coughs so this blog has been kinda gathering dust b/c i haven't been drawing much. but i HAVE been writing.

here's some Rodion/Outis smut that focuses on their definitely not healthy dynamic, set in an alternate universe in which Ishmael is the Moth Princess and everyone else is just a part of a biker gang led by Outis.

And some Outis + Heathcliff genfic in which Outis yells at Heathcliff for getting his ass hospitalized due to the events of an earlier moth girl smut fic and then contemplates Telemachus and why she hates that Heathcliff makes her think about Telemachus.

Favorite line from either fic:

To say she’s ever been soft with Heathcliff is incorrect. Outis doesn’t know how to be soft. She’s a mother that’s never known her child, and the ghost she could have raised lingers so closely behind her that she’s started to see him in the face of a boy that’s never known his mother.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

day 15.

brain wants to do anything but draw, so have a bit of a shitpost i'm working on.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

Day 14, give it up for Day 14.

more innsmouth stuff. itty bitty piece of writing. innsmouth has some real intricate worldbuilding and political drama, but at its core, it's for me to write yuri. and heathmael, tbh, but it started as an excuse for ryotis and then outis/faust happened.

warnings for toxic yuri and power imbalances. my friend named Innsmouth Faust in the Gessellschaft: Blood-Drenched and Infinitely Beautiful Faust. Faust remains the single character that turns all my "oh we'll just make this a quick cute romance" AUs into existential nightmares.

Will note that it is a poly situation but not a healthy one.

Another context note: Don Quixote is a symbol of rebellion in this universe, and while anyone can pick up the name, our Don Quixote is one of the originators of using said symbol.

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Twenty days and Outis still hasn’t gotten over the argument.

She tends the front garden, her single “constructive” hobby, stabbing the earth with her hand-trowel. These sprouts need to be planted now. The frosts have stopped and with all due fortune won’t resume. It feels good to work with her hands, even if the result last year had been a garden of zucchini and nothing else. This year will be different.

If they even make it through the year.

Twenty days ago, Outis had confronted Faust. “Don Quixote. Really.”

Faust, in her usual impassive way, didn’t look Outis in the eye and merely continued tending to her claws. “You are really going to question this.”

“You’re going to endanger everything we stand for here!” Outis stepped into her space, trying to force Faust’s gaze. It didn’t work.

“As is my right.” Faust continued to work the points of her nails, the scratch of keratin on the file grating on Outis’s ears.

“And I am appealing to your right mind!”

Scratch scratch scratch. “The right mind has been reached, and agrees with the decision made prior.” The response that showed Faust would be stonewalling her. Outis gritted her teeth and reached for the file. That forced Faust’s eyes to turn to her. “…I see. The pet is jealous, is that it? Afraid Faust is seeking an exciting new heretic to replace her current one? Do you need consoling, then?”

“I don’t give a— Don’t you speak to me like I’m a child!” Outis waved the file in Faust’s face. “I’m running your county! They know my face better than yours at this point! I am asking to be included in the decisions!”

“You’re not a child. You’re a dog.” Faust’s expression did not shift. Cold. Impassive. “And frankly, if it is not positive redirection you are asking for, I will resort to more dramatic measures should you not take two steps back. Now.”

Outis’s jaw clenched. Loathing herself, loathing Faust more, she took two steps back.

“My file.” Faust’s hand extended.

With her ears flicking back, she placed the file in Faust’s hand.

“You are dismissed,” Faust said, and that ended the argument. Anyone but Faust and Outis would have shifted. She had half a mind to do it anyway, to see how quick her teeth could sink into Faust’s skinny little neck.

But, as Outis knew when she took this position, Faust may be the single most powerful woman in the world, perhaps the most powerful person if the vampire Armand did not exist. Their positions were never meant to be equal. And Outis had survived Armand’s wrath once. It had cost her everything.

She would not pay that price again. This time, she would be more careful.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

outis/dante as butch 4 butch yuri press send

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day 13.

just a li'l doodle.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

busy with real life over the next few days. we'll see if i get to sketching tomorrow. i've been more in a writing mood tho, and innsmouth has been the focus, so i actually do have half an outis chapter sitting staring me in the face.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

my pretentious goal with everything i write from outis's perspective is to somehow reference classical greek literature or greek myth in each and every one.

one of these days i'll figure out how to have her drop some random dialogue from a sophocles play or a sappho poem.

i am greek-american, and my obsession with greek mythology has gone back to when i was very, very small. so yanno, the obsession with outis was almost guaranteed. you can't just make odysseus a hot older woman and NOT have me lose my fucking mind.

[almostdailywarcriminal]

For Day 12, I'm gonna mess a bit with posting bits of my fic writing. This is from the werewolf AU I'm writing, internally going by Daylight Over Innsmouth. Written from Heathcliff's perspective, this is the first time Outis actually shows up. She's a viewpoint character (Innsmouth doesn't follow each and every sinner, at least not right now) but Heathcliff's chapter comes first chronologically.

Innsmouth is my baby and I am working on it slowly between this and the other project. The AU changes a whooooole lot about the world and the Sinners' relations to each other, while trying to keep them generally recognizable. It started as an excuse for werewolf yuri and uh well let's just say I cannot just let things exist.

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Glaring up, he expects to see her far in the distance. But she’s stopped moving, and has since pulled on a short white dress. He could hit her now. He balls his fists…

And then the Wolf speaks up.

Heathcliff hates when the Wolf talks. He wishes he could ignore the Wolf the way Rodion and Sonya could theirs. But when the Wolf talks, it fills his entire mind, and it threatens to override his senses every time. The Wolf snarls, forcing his head to turn.

Maybe the damn thing has a point, he accepts, as he catches sight of the biggest wolf he’s ever seen striding up the beach. Her brown fur is streaked with spots of white, and her muzzle is going gray. He can’t see any scars beneath her immaculate fur. And her gait is smooth, practiced, confident.

He knows there are three other wolves on the island. He’s already met Bucky and Fang. That leaves the last one, who he’s only heard about in passing thus far.

The arrogant woman from earlier turns and raises her hand. “Outis!”

The Wolf suggests that he watch his words. He’s never met an old wolf, and he hasn’t seen a wolf so unmarred. Either she’s never been in a fight, or she simply doesn’t lose them. The Wolf doesn’t want to gamble on it being the latter.

Outis slows from her easy lope and pulls up onto her hind legs. At her full height, she must be pushing nine and a half feet tall. “Ishmael. Enjoying your day off?”

“No,” the arsehole redhead sighs. “You can’t believe the nerve of some of these newcomers. I thought you said Hong Lu told them about the town.”

“He did,” Outis says. Her amber eyes snap to Heathcliff. “I take it that you’ve taught him his lesson, then?”

“We’ll see if he retains it.”

“Oi! I’m right here!” Heathcliff scowls, even as the Wolf snarls at him to keep quiet.

Ishmael ignores him, rolling her eyes, but Outis takes a step forward. “Come here, then.” Her tone leaves no room for arguing.

Heathcliff wants to talk back anyway, but the Wolf presses forward, threatening to shift. It takes most of Heathcliff’s mental energy to bat the Wolf away. He approaches the two of them, shooting Ishmael a glare that the Wolf calls him an idiot for. Ishmael returns the daggers, venomous.

But Outis commands attention, and the Wolf won’t let him keep his eyes off her for long. Outis stoops down to better stand at their level, her long tail sweeping out for balance. If she has the same aversion to other wolves that Heathcliff has, she doesn’t show it. “I have met three of your pack thus far,” she says, “but there are two wolves in your midst, and you both have yet to speak to me.”

“Do I gotta?” Heathcliff says.

Ishmael clicks her tongue in disgust. “See? This is what we’re allowing in Innsmouth these days.”

“There are many children raised without proper elders,” Outis says, and Heathcliff can’t tell if it’s compassion or condescension.

“You don’t know how I was raised,” Heathcliff growls.

“I know enough to know that you’re more human than wolf.” Outis’s nose twitches. “You haven’t observed any of the rituals thus far.”

“Inviting more people in was a mistake, if you ask me,” Ishmael grumbles.

Heathcliff’s fists tighten, but Outis raises a hand. “We do not need your commentary, Ambassador. And I don’t think you’re much interested in wolf business.”

Ishmael crosses her arms and shakes her head. “Say hello to Faust for me, I guess.”

“Will do.” Once Ishmael starts up the beach, Outis turns her full attention on Heathcliff. “She’s an acquired taste,” Outis says dryly.

“Not much for shoveling shit in my gob,” Heathcliff responds.

To the surprise of the Wolf, Outis laughs. “You say whatever’s on your mind, don’t you?”

“Always prefer to be honest.”

“Admirable. A weakness, but admirable.” Outis’s tail twitches. “What’s your name?”

He now understands why the Wolf doesn’t like this one. “Heathcliff.”

“And you’re how old?”

“Twenty-eight.”

Outis nods. “Your accent’s from the southeast of the Holy See, isn’t it?”

“I thought asking after people’s pasts wasn’t allowed here.”

“I’m not asking.” Outis shrugs. “I’m noting. Say nothing, or say everything. I know what I need to know about you.”

“You don’t know me at all, mate.”

“No. But I know enough.” Outis leans forward onto all fours. “The first weekend of every month, I host a hunt in the woods. You and your sister should come.”

Heathcliff wants to tell her to sod off, but the Wolf holds him back. “Maybe.”

“It would be good for you to learn how to be a wolf. The Holy See has destroyed our ways for generations now.”

“Wolves don’t got a unified tradition, mate.”

“No,” Outis admits. “But were you taught the ways of your elders?”

He can feel Outis’s eyes digging into him, pressing straight through him.

“It is the one experience all the wolves of the Holy See know.” Outis’s voice lacks the softness and the sympathy for such a harsh statement. “Destruction. Loss. A separation of generations. You and I may not be kin by blood, but we are kin on the pyres they build for us.”

“You got a whole speech, then?”

This time, Outis doesn’t laugh. “If you wish to make a home here, Heathcliff, you’d be better off making friends than enemies. Immortals have long memories. Be grateful I’m not one of them.”

He shakes his head, refusing to admit she has a point. “Cheers, mate.”

Outis gives him one last searching stare, then takes off down the beach again. Heathcliff denies the Wolf his paranoia, not looking after her. Instead, he stomps up the beach, playing the conversation in his head.

Why can’t he just be fucking normal?