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what up. its ya boyo back with more mianite season 2 moments that Live In My Head Rent Free
1 of 2 commissions for @smmybb of his designs of mot & dianite from mianite! i know. very little abt mianite but i enjoyed drawing these two a lot ;w;
IV for Dia/Mot
Hold ur husband for good luck
lovers........
Dianite: One bonus of being An Immortal Being™ is grossly misusing modern slang on purpose and watching the players cry inside.
Dianite: The other day I pointed at a reactor and, while looking at Sparkly Loins right in the eye, went “Man is that bae or what huh?” and the look on his face was something i will treasure for years
Mot: This is exactly why I love you
Homeward Bound
The whole universe felt like it had bloomed, like a sea of petals was surrounding him. It was agonizing to push through all the heavy petals, all while making sure he left neither Mot or Dianite behind. And yet, he held that image in his head, of the cinnamon grove inn, the room with all the beds, Tom—
He felt himself appear inside, feeling everything at once. The warm air, the floor under his feet, and by Mianite did he feel dizzy. Tucker collapsed to the floor, shaking, dry heaving. The floor was cold beneath him. His flesh felt too tight, as if his body didn’t belong there, which it sort of didn’t. He looked up, and sighed with relief. Mot and Dianite were there too, looking just a little dazed.
Tom looked at the both of them. Tucker waved, then retched. Sonja walked into the room, Martha peeking up from where she was studying a now sleeping Wag.
“Hi,” Tucker said. Tom opened his eyes, looking curiously at them, until he realized who was there.
Mot finally seemed to regain his senses, and rushed over to Tom’s bedside, Dianite stumbling after him. Mot collapsed by Tom, gathering him into his arms in a loose, gentle hug, wary of the bandages all around his chest, and the one on his knee.
“Mot? Hi, hey, it’s alright—“
“No it isn’t!” Mot snapped, “How did this happen?”
“Fucked with the wrong champion. Ianite’s. Her name is Celia, ya gotta be careful…”
“I have to be careful? You almost got yourself killed!”
Dianite set a large hand on Mot’s shoulder, trying to calm him a little.
“What he’s trying to say is that he cares, boyo. And this was sudden and scary for him. Right?”
Mot nodded, his eyes filled with tears that trickled down his mottled face.
“Martha,” Mot said, “can’t you make a potion? Use something to heal him?”
Martha shook her head.
“I don’t feel confident enough in my magic to do something like that, I’m scared that I would make it worse. And I never really was a healer…” she gently carded her fingers through Wag’s hair. “...I don’t know.”
Mot looked at Tom’s knee, then back to Martha.
“What about potions?”
“I don’t have anything to make them. No netherwart or anything.”
Tom groaned, trying to pull Mot closer to him.
“Celia will hurt you, she’ll hurt you if she finds out about the Dianite stuff… there’s a portal, to uh. To the nether in a place called Kuljät. Dianite is trapped there, and Lev and I are gonna go save him—“
“Not with that knee!” Dianite shouted. He laughed a little, rubbing his face.
Goodness, he was crying. A god, crying. Not the first time he had seen it, but… Tucker stood, the floor swaying under his feet a little as he did so. He looked at Sonja and waved, stumbling over to an empty bed and flopping down. Oh, he’d teleported with two people. He did that! Without any help— Gijsbert would be so proud. And soon enough, this would all be behind them, and they’d be home again. Home.
No more hurt, no more psychotic champions, no more shadows or any of that shit. Just the savannah, and the gods, and his Mianite.
Mot and Tom held one another, and Tucker laid down, trapped in memory.
I’m making a new DnD character and I knew I wanted him to be a tiefling and have a face scar, but when I was deciding what color to make him and chose green, I realized he is a theoretical Motanite child and I will never escape my Mianite loving brain.
I don't think I ever got a chance to post this~ And if I did. Oh well. Deal with my repost.
