certified lion man enjoyer

// Alex / 35 / Brazilian / Trans-Dude (they/he) / Gay // Freelance Illustrator // NOT SPOILERS FREE

[oddthesungod]

Yeehaw pardner

Hiya! I'm Odd and I draw a lot!

Dragon Age Fanart Critical Role Fanart Other Art My Playlists

Interested in getting art from me? I open new commission slots every month, so please check out my availability on the Queue link below as well as my TOS and prices! :)

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[oddthesungod]

Pale-headed Rosella (of the equine variety). Oil on canvas.

Painted this a couple weeks ago and forgot to share lol, did this one as an exercise in loosening up my brushstrokes!

[oddthesungod]

Some cloud oil studies :) ☁️

[oddthesungod]

Garlan comforts his son, Akrion.

wrote a short drabble based on a pre-campaign scene I had of my character Garlan and his son! going to put it under the cut if anyone wants to read it :) For context, the campaign is set in Exandria. Garlan is native to a region in southern Marquet that was never explored in the campaigns so me and the DM kinda took over and came up with a geography for it lol. His pride has a tradition called the "Long Hunt", where whenever the king's heir reaches the age of 25, the previous king is exiled peacefully, it's a tradition that Garlan holds a lot of respect and complicated feelings over, and it's something he's been grappling with over the course of the campaign.

The scent of lemongrass fills his lungs as he inhales. It's cresting into the late afternoon, and he feels like this is a smell he'll always remember.

When he opens his eyes, it's with a squint as the glare of the sun filters through the branches of the low acacia tree he's facing. In the distance, where the sun is setting, the dunes just barely visible beyond the grasslands of his home begin to take on the hues of purple, deep blue and orange, shifting darker and darker as the sun climbs down the cloudless sky.

He commits it to memory. Paints it into the stone walls of his mind.

He wonders what his pride will paint about him, what stories they'll tell of him when he's gone.

The crunching of grass behind him distracts him from his musings. It's soft and measured, a slight shift on the left paw, where one of the toes broke and was set in an imperfect angle gives away who the approaching figure is, the footfalls of a hunter that he has spent years teaching and he smiles.

"Lighter on the right paw, you still step too deep with it," he says with mild, playful admonishment.

A sigh, quiet and contained. Subdued.

Akrion steps next to him, and he turns to look at his son.

He is as tall as him, his mane full and a lush dark brown that reminds him of his own father, a man Akrion has never known. Akrion has inherited his mother's more trim physique, less bulky than him, faster and more nimble.

At twenty five years old, Akrion is a man that he is proud to call his heir.

"I thought you'd be back at the village, preparing for… you know," Akrion says. The 'you know' hangs heavy in the air between them. It's not overtly bitter, angry or sad. It is what it is. But there is a small shadow of these things beneath it. Despite his acceptance of it, Akrion always had trouble calling the Long Hunt by it's name.

"There's still time. Besides, I think your mother would kill me if she saw me moping about the house like an anxious cat before the festivities," he leans towards Akrion, nudging him with his shoulder.

Akrion scoffs, or chuckles, he isn't quite sure.

They sit there in silence for a few moments, simply existing in each others presences. This is something he always treasured with Akrion, when words failed them both, they were content to let that silence rest between the two of them. Make the work of allowing the words to settle, roost in their minds and hearts until they could hatch into something they meant to say, instead of rushing them.

Bright bird song turns into the trilling sound of insects and the squeaks of early bats as the setting sun shades everything in warm reds and oranges. It's the tail end of the dry season, and as a breeze sneaks through the tall grass to reach them, he feels the humidity carried by it. Rain should arrive soon enough, in the next few days hopefully, and with it… new life.

For the first time in many years, he considers where he'll go. It was something he'd put off for so long, other things just seemed much more important, even as isolated and cut off from the rest of Marquet as they are, there is ever so much to do.

Maybe he'll go north, finally see the great city of Ank'Harel that the few merchants that visit his pride every so often spin tales about. Or maybe he'll cross the sea, he's heard of lands far away, of great continents and great kingdoms. Lands covered in ice, towering forests and blanketed in darkness.

"I think I'd be anxious too," Akrion mutters, finally breaking the silence.

He turns to look at Akrion once again, practically on reflex he curls an arm around Akrion's shoulders, pulling him into his side like he's done so many times over the years. Akrion leans into him, a tension evident in him that he feels and isn't surprised by.

A quiet sniff leaves Akrion, and he squeezes him more tightly against him. When he leans forward to catch Akrion's gaze with his own, his son turns his head, trying to hide the obvious tears that stain dark paths down his light tawny fur. With his other hand, he gently turns Akrion's face towards him. Amber colored eyes, just like his, flit to the side for a moment, before Akrion seems to muster the courage to face him.

"You don't have to hide any tears from me, you never had," his words are gentle, and they earn him a strained smile from Akrion.

"It just feels so stupid to cry now, I should be holding any tears for tomorrow evening after your eulogy," Akrion chuckles, a little wetly as the tears pour down more freely now.

He shrugs, "Tears have a tendency of arriving in the strangest of times, but they always come when they are meant to."

Akrion sighs again, and attempts to rub the tears from his face, with little success.

"I still remember how much I cried when you were born, the midwife said I was more of a baby than you were at that moment," he grinned at the memory as it bloomed in his mind. The paint of it still vivid as if it had happened the day prior.

Akrion's laugh is warmer this time, loosening the tension of his body a little bit. He commits the sound to the walls of his memory as best he can, the white of his teeth, how his muzzle wrinkles just behind his nose and how his head dips down, chin briefly disappearing into the thick fur of his mane. When his short lived laugh dies down, Akrion huffs an affectionate chuffing noise that he responds in kind, pushing his nose into his son's mane and inhaling the scent of dust, lemongrass and blade oil infused into it.

He eventually leans back, giving Akrion another good look. His body is already scarred here and there, much like his own, symbols of their brushes with danger and death that are an ever present shadow that follows them out here in the grasslands. They are also the symbols of a hunter and a warrior, roles he has embodied ever since he became of age. But there is also a steady thoughtfulness in his eyes, a resolve in how he raises his head proudly to gaze into the setting sun.

His son has the makings of a great king in him. It's what lightens his soul, knowing that when he leaves, come the morning after the festivities, the pride will be well cared for by him.

"Do you remember when grandad left?" Akrion asks, still watching the sun dip below the dunes in the horizon.

A burrowing owl hoots somewhere nearby, a small dark shape bursts through the grass and disappears into the sky. Akrion never knew his grandfather, much like he'll never meet any of his grandchildren, if Akrion ever ends up having any.

"I do," it's a simple answer, but carrying a weight that he doesn't have to express in words to Akrion. A hum and a nod, and he knows that he understands.

The stars are already dotting the sky, the gazing eyes of those long gone, waking up to watch over them through the night. Catha and Ruidus should be somewhere in the sky behind them, but they simply watch the sun disappear, unwilling to look away.

"I'll remember this moment," Akrion says, voice barely a whisper.

Lemongrass fills his lungs.

He will too.

[frankhermann]

actually annoyed by long distance friends again. i want to go for a walk i want to get drinks i want to sit in the grass and write i want to go to the fucking store together

[oddthesungod]

✨Commissions are Open!✨

☀️To request a slot please fill out this form ☀️Terms of Service ☀️Commissions Queue ☀️Payment via Paypal only!

[oddthesungod]

✨Commissions are Open!✨

☀️To request a slot please fill out this form ☀️Terms of Service ☀️Commissions Queue ☀️Payment via Paypal only!

[oddthesungod]

✨Commissions are Open!✨

☀️To request a slot please fill out this form ☀️Terms of Service ☀️Commissions Queue ☀️Payment via Paypal only!

[oddthesungod]

Hello y'all! As a heads up, I'll be opening for commissions again tomorrow (13/07)! The form should open at 3pm BRT! But as ever, I'll be making an announcement post here as well! ❤️

[oddthesungod]

Hi! I'm 19 and would love to join the hijack discord...

Send me a DM or msg off anon and I’ll shoot you the link to it! :)

[oddthesungod]

Iridescence

Acrylics on paper

[oddthesungod]

Doe Eyed 🦌

Oils on canvas paper.

[yellowpoet]

The best advice really is to just write. Write badly - purple prose, stilted conversations, rambling descriptions. Don't delete it, pass go, take your $200, save all your garbage in a big folder. Look at how much you've made - it doesn't matter if it isn't perfect, isn't polished, it was practice. Every time you write you learn a little more, and find another piece of your voice.

[oddthesungod]

I'll be honest, but it bothers me a bit how some ppl push back on shipping two characters romantically with "why would you simplify their relationship as a romance?" as if there is no depth, conflict, friendship or nuance to explore in a romantic relationship. Like if you can only envision a romantic relationship as "they kiss and fuck and that's it" then that's a, i'm sorry to say, you problem.

Romantic relationship can be as complicated, rich and as lore deep as any other type of relationship. And I get it if you're tired of seeing romantic ships of your favorite characters, I really do, but you disliking them doesn't make your alternative more "enlightened" just because it eschews romance.

[charl0ttan]

whats everyones favorite cocktails. i totally adore a sex on the beach. no rum and coke okay i want your favorite gay ass colorful fruity tasting type of drink okay? okay. i trust you. i love you

[adastrabbit]

[luckthebard]

“I can’t believe some people don’t like this character - the concept is so cool!”

Ah yes, the concept, the concept, so many cool concepts out there. Have you considered, however, that what draws many of us in is the successful execution of that character concept.