I have an AO3 where I type up Ravenwatch stories! Right now they're mostly Fennorian stories, but I try to make each OC MC a little different. If you're interested in reading my stories the link to my page is AyoitsMo
I also plan on writing more Ravenwatch content in the future that isn't slash fic once I get a better handle on the characters.
I just love the Ravenwatch and want more content of them so I created some myself.
Figured it out, Asks are open! Send me prompt requests, questions or ask about head canons! Or anything really!
Do not repost my stories!
I’ve seen people reading fic out loud on streams and am afraid of it becoming a trend, don’t ever do that either, haha!
When I was younger and more abled, I was so fucking on board with the fantasy genre’s subversion of traditional femininity. We weren’t just fainting maidens locked up in towers; we could do anything men could do, be as strong or as physical or as violent. I got into western martial arts and learned to fight with a rapier, fell in love with the longsword.
But since I’ve gotten too disabled to fight anymore, I… find myself coming back to that maiden in a tower. It’s that funny thing, where subverting femininity is powerful for the people who have always been forced into it… but for the people who have always been excluded, the powerful thing can be embracing it.
As I’m disabled, as I say to groups of friends, “I can’t walk that far,” as I’m in too much pain to keep partying, I find myself worrying: I’m boring, too quiet, too stationary, irrelevant. The message sent to the disabled is: You’re out of the narrative, you’re secondary, you’re a burden.
The remarkable thing about the maiden in her tower is not her immobility; it’s common for disabled people to be abandoned, set adrift, waiting at bus stops or watching out the windows, forgotten in institutions or stranded in our houses. The remarkable thing is that she’s like a beacon, turning her tower into a lighthouse; people want to come to her, she’s important, she inspires through her appearance and words and craftwork. In medieval romances she gives gifts, write letters, sends messengers, and summons lovers; she plays chess, commissions ballads, composes music, commands knights. She is her household’s moral centre in a castle under siege. She is a castle unto herself, and the integrity of her body matters.
That can be so revolutionary to those of us stuck in our towers who fall prey to thinking: Nobody would want to visit; nobody would want to listen; nobody would want to stay.
#it’s so so important to remember that representation is not one-size-fits-all#what is empowering to one person might be exhausting and oppressive to someone else#some people need stories about having the strength to save themselves#some people need stories about being considered worthy of being saved#some people need inspiration for their independence while others need validation that they don’t have to be able to do everything themselves#before you lash out against something PLEASE stop to consider:#is this inadequate and/or damaging representation?#or is it just something I don’t personally relate to? [X]
It’s been half a decade and I still haven’t found an articulation of the complexity of “representation” as concisely and precisely mindblowing as @hungrylikethewolfie’s here.
I actually talked with @rvnwtch a good bit about this one, since I do actually want to turn Eilíse’s story into a comic someday. I’m reworking the title, and I like to lean into the idea of the Vestige having a bit of a star motif. When we rez, our bodies have a kinda burst of bright light from our chests in somewhat of a star shape, and the prophecy says “the Soulless One will become the brightest of five stars.”
I was contemplating calling it “Brightest Star, Darkest Night” to reflect that plus Eilíse’s character development revolves around having a dark and lonely past and then being thrust into the spotlight with horrible events but amazing people. Still not sure if I'll keep the title, but that's what it'll be for now!
Here's an alt version where I did a quick-and-dirty edit to make Maddorn bigger and more removed from the rest of the group, as suggested by my professor:
I actually talked with @rvnwtch a good bit about this one, since I do actually want to turn Eilíse’s story into a comic someday. I’m reworking the title, and I like to lean into the idea of the Vestige having a bit of a star motif. When we rez, our bodies have a kinda burst of bright light from our chests in somewhat of a star shape, and the prophecy says “the Soulless One will become the brightest of five stars.”
I was contemplating calling it “Brightest Star, Darkest Night” to reflect that plus Eilíse’s character development revolves around having a dark and lonely past and then being thrust into the spotlight with horrible events but amazing people. Still not sure if I'll keep the title, but that's what it'll be for now!
Here's an alt version where I did a quick-and-dirty edit to make Maddorn bigger and more removed from the rest of the group, as suggested by my professor:
We need to do something about straight women's misery in their hetero relationships they're largely just resigned to living in I'm so serious. Can we try women's lib again can we liberate the women
Like they tried to change Reblogs and people rightfully got up in arms, this is a LOT worse. In order to have access to any sort of thing dubbed mature, and We haveALL seen what they think is mature, Everything from a black and white photo of a black woman's arm, to posts about IUD recalls, to a nude painted by a 17th century artist, to anything involving the word Trans; you have to send your personal information to a third party site that WILL get hacked, and you will be doxxed. And they can say "Oh shit, well it wasn't us who sent your name address and gender identity to Moldovan teenagers, here's a couple extra minutes in the ball pit.
That's bad enough!!!!!!!! But the entire idea of needing permission from state authorities to access anything labeled mature by our friendly AI overlords is some fucking Boll shit. Die Gedenken Sind Frie baby. This is all a reaction to people getting uppity about their lowly lowly rights and is being propped up by the same bad actors tht have made life unlivable. Fuck that shit.
"Well it's only being rolled out in Brazil and UK" Yeah, to start. "Well they're being forced to do this by laws." YOu know it's always really funny when these tech giants (Or whatever you call owning tumblr dot com) get really antsy about laws considering they pick and choose which ones they abide by.
This is a breaking point and it's going to be very interesting to see how we proceed from here.
Where's the fucking. The form. The fucking form. Hang on, lemme find it.
Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your
This! Please fill out this! Select "Feedback" and fill out the form! They won't necessarily be paying attention to us complaining in posts, but they will read these forms!
It has come to my attention that I might have to make a separate Masterlist page just for my Elder Scrolls Stuff. Because the original Masterlist post I made is getting... quite extensive.
Not necessarily a bad thing, though! Just means I'm being extra creative and am enjoying sharing that creativity with you all! Thank you all, truly, for all of the lovely comments, encouraging words, and offers to hear my crazy ideas. And even help me with those ideas when the creative juices dry up.
Hey, y'all! I know it's been actual years since I updated my fic and a while since I posted any real content.
I've been dealing with some majorly disabling health conditions, and I've still got another year and a half left in my degree. Between school and my health, I've been essentially bed/desk-ridden 90% of my days. Despite this, I've still been making art related to my ESO ocs, and I want to rewrite the fic I made a while ago.
SO!! I've marked my fic as discontinued, and I'll be archiving all my old posts about it (aside from that one illustration lol) I've got some new pieces to share, and I hope y'all will like them!
I'm going to start slowly rewriting Eilise's story with Fennorian and my other ocs, and it'll be a much slower burn. New title too!! AND COMICS!! I'm currently working on a couple pages for a class that I'll be able to share in a couple weeks, and I've already got a cover I did for another project.
ANYWAYS! I know I've got a small circle and this isn't a big deal, but I just wanted to update anyone who followed to keep up with my story :) Thank you so much to those that read it and shared your love!! That fic was one of the few good things about my life that year or two.
People in a fandom who don’t post art/fics, but who reblog/like/follow/otherwise support artists and creators, my beloveds
If artists are the backbone of a fandom, then you all are the muscles. Connecting everyone and everything. Spreading fun and whimsy. That’s real neat, I think
Tagging @hircines-hunter, @pocket-vvardvark, @rvnwtch, and anyone else who wishes to participate <3
I don't play D&D anymore. Since I left on a rather painful note, it's been hard to even look at memes of it. The only thing making me feel better about it is Baldur's Gate 3. And I'm clinging to whatever little bit of sweetness is left with my Tav(s).
Astarion's arms tighten around you, holding you in a vice grip of an embrace. His one hand is planted on your shoulder, the other squeezing your hand as you lay against him. Your face is buried in his collarbone, your hips twisted slightly upward so Shadowheart can examine the wounds on your belly, unceremonously left by the Gnolls who ambushed you and your party. Because you were leading the group, you were the first to get hit. And the one who got the worst of it.
"Those damn Gnolls really did a number on you..." Shadow mutters a curse under her breath as she conjurs a bit of water in her hand, letting it trickle down onto your abdomen, flushing the gashes out to clean them.
You hiss in a breath and follow up with a breathy groan, gritting your teeth to alleviate the mind-numbing, stinging pain. Your pale, clammy hands cling to Astarion's shirt as you give a full-body flinch. A scream tears from your throat as you feel more cold water and a washrag make contact with a particularly sensitive spot. Hot tears run down your cheeks, onto your hand and, subsequently, Astarion's hand. The hand he's using to ground you and hold you close. He presses his cold lips to your forehead, equal parts a silent plea and silent encouragement to hold on.
"Breathe, Tav," he murmurs into your hair as you sob against your will. "Keep breathing, don't hold your breath."
Shadow curses again, loudly this time, and turns her head to face the tent opening. "GALE!" she hollers out, not bothering to hide the urgency in her voice.
No sooner than she gets his name out is the wizard inside the tent. He kneels next to Shadowheart. "Tell me what I need to do, friend."
"I need another set of hands," Shadowheart says. "I can't hold her down and heal her, it's too painful for her to hold still."
Gale nods and brings his hands to you. "Yes, I can imagine it is," he mutters as he focuses his magic, "Abdominal injuries are usually rather excruciating to the recipient."
As they take a moment to figure out the best course of action, you lay there in Astarion's arms, chest heaving with effort as you suck in oxygen, vision blurry from the pain and the tears. You can just make out Astarion's cool thumb rubbing back and forth against your hand.
