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My writing and art! Main @cjadewyton and polished work on @jade-wyton

Posts tagged demrefor:

Snippet from part 7 of The Necromacers :3 It's almost finished! Just 2 and a half more parts to go! This was a very fun style experiment (and a hopefully very sad story)

cw: implied abuse, miscarriage


‘I don’t feel okay,’ xie admitted. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever feel okay.’

‘I promise you will,’ Distro’s lips met the seces’ cheek, and she gave xer a tight squeeze. ‘I promise. It gets easier in time.’

Jaisa’s gills let out another mournful squeal. ‘I... I....’

And then xie trailed off, xer eyes focusing on something far away, and neither Distro nor Coi’Lili said anything else. Instead, Distro rested a hand on Jaisa’s knee, and Coi’Lili collected his things and quietly made his way inside.

They sat for a long while in the quiet garden. Well past midday, until the air grew chill and the sun began to set orange and pink behind the palace wall.

And then the garden gate gave a creak, and Distro turned to meet eyes with Penel. The felinic was carrying her canvas and brushes slung over her shoulder with a thick leather strap, though when she saw Distro and Jaisa sitting together on the bench, she abandoned her things at the gate before making her way over.

She watched Jaisa carefully with each step; though xer vacant expression didn’t change.

Xie didn’t respond to Penel’s greeting. And xie barely blinked when the girl sat beside xer. The seces just stared ahead at nothing, worrying the hem of xer fraying shirt to tatters.

Penel’s brow furrowed as she craned her gaze over Jaisa to speak to Distro. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Xie lost xer baby.’

‘Oh...’ Penel sunk into her seat, her eyes trailing to Jaisa’s hands as xie continued tearing at the cotton seam. ‘Oh. I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.’

‘No,’ Jaisa finally spoke. ‘That’s not.... That’s not even the terrible part.’

‘Later, honey,’ Distro comforted, moving her hand to Jaisa’s shoulder. ‘You don’t have to tell us a thing until you’re ready.’

Jaisa nodded, taking a deep breath and turning back to the garden. Xie muttered something as xie continued to tear at xer shirt. And then repeated it. Again, and again.

And the fifth time, Penel finally heard what xie was saying.

‘Forgive him,’ Jaisa breathed. ‘Please, Scara, forgive him.’


Pros:

-Cute

-Voice of reason

-Will share her food with you

Cons:

-Stubborn

-Will not hesitate to kick your arse

-Would fight a god


Pros:

-Look at him!

-LOOK at hiM!!!

Cons:

-How DARE you???


Unhappy bubbles! Unhappy baby.


Naga have the shortest gestation of all live-birthing Sentients, at 4 months. Due to their short gestation naga infants are born fairly weak, with their eyes sealed shut, and need constant supervision until their first year when they start to open their eyes.

Although naga are born functionally blind, their sense of smell is still very acute and they can learn to recognise people and things by smell. They will blow large mucus bubbles and press them against people to sniff them.

These mucus bubbles are also used in an infant’s communication. As most naga language is visual body language, closed-eyed infants have a hard time communicating with their parents. Instead, they express emotions through their mucus bubbles. Happy naga babies will blow large bubbles, filling them with multiple breaths until they burst. They do this by breathing in through their gills and out through their nose. This can be uncomfortable for mothers who are breastfeeding, as the mucus sticks to their chests and (while they don’t often think of it as gross) if it’s not cleaned off properly it can cause irritation.

To express discomfort or displeasure an unhappy naga infant will, instead of crying, blow lots of small mucus bubbles into the water around them like floating tears. These bubbles will stick to most surfaces and are usually an unexpected menace for inexperienced parents to deal with. Most naga will grow out of this during their childhood, and rarely carry the habit into their teen years.

From birth, naga have what’s known as the “baby curl” instinct. Young, blind naga curl their tails around things and people and grip as hard as they are able. Once they find something they like to wrap around they will refuse to uncurl their tails, even in their sleep, until they find something else to hold onto. Parents usually wrap their children’s tails around their own arms, so that they aren’t separated.

The baby curl instinct may carry on after a young naga opens their eyes all the way into early childhood. This is considered the equivalent of a land-dwelling child sucking their thumb, and many naga children will have specific comfort items, such as blankets or toys, that make them feel most secure.


Little avio, little avio, for your second mother you must behavio


‘What?’ Scaychie was taken aback. ‘You want me to… babysit?’

‘Yes. I would appreciate it,’ he said sweetly, nipping Scaychie’s cheek. ‘It has been quite a few nights since Eish’lee and I were able to be alone together. Setani’Selina is asleep in her resting place, try not to wake her when Geoff’Selulu gets tired.’

‘Why me?’

‘No other girl is making milk,’ Tru’man replied with a shrug. ‘At least, none I trust with my children.... And I thought you would enjoy a night away from Linzor.’

Scaychie couldn’t argue. A night away from the Orange Beast sounded like a gift from the gods....

‘Milk!’ two voices cried out from Scaychie’s arms, and her gaze shot down to look at the wiggly little boy.

‘Oh, yes, he’s figuring out how to use his speaker,’ Tru’man chuckled, nipping his son on the nose. ‘You’re very talented, aren’t you? Behave for kekik Scaychie.’

‘Yalfit!’ Geoff’Selulu responded, his voice echoing as if he was speaking for two people as he tried to grab his father’s hair. ‘Kan!’

‘Yes, kekik Scaychie will let you kan,’ Tru’man dodged his son’s tiny hands and grinned at Scaychie. ‘He wants to eat.’

‘I’ll feed him,’ Scaychie reassured. ‘You go.’

Tru’man nodded and turned, putting his arm around Eish’lee as they wandered into the distance.

‘Kekik?’ Geoff’Selulu’s voice broke. ‘Kekik kan? Milk? Kekik going?’

Scaychie tapped the bump on his throat gently. ‘Scaychie gives you kan.’

‘Milk!’ he said, in his usual voice. Then he opened his mouth wide and a second voice, higher than before, escaped him. ‘Meelk!’

‘Yes, milk!’ Scaychie replied.

‘Milk!’ Geoff’Selulu cried out before nuzzling against Scaychie’s shawled-covered chest with enthusiasm. ‘Now!’


The new dire wolf art for the site!

With a face more sickeningly cute than I was intending but, sometimes, you just go with it.


‘Oh, yes! Very okay!’ Keemi’Keemi nodded. ‘Keemi when you small, and parents give you three kisses on nose to make giggles!’

‘So your name is...’ Ka’harja hesitated.

‘Six giggle kisses!’ Keemi’Keemi beamed.


That's the thing with having a kind heart as an immortal. You love & then you lose them. & then you love again. & you know you should stop loving but you just can't help it, because the world is beautiful. Though sometimes, late at night, you wonder if love is worth the pain...

(but then, you wake up, & the morning is beautiful, & you can't help but let your heart soften, & feel love, & be kind. Even though you know it will hurt all over again)


Am relaxing right? This is how you do it right? Yeah. Yeah I think I'm doing it... *looks over at Scaychie for validation* Wow, relaxing is so stressful.


Goose pulls out her puppy dog eyes and her dad lets her get away with anything.


Been doing some world building and cleanup over the past few days. The Har'py language has like, 5 pronouns.

Me, You, Them, Mine, and Not Mine (yours/theirs)

imo it sums them up really well. They do have gendered words (like mother/father) but their pronouns aren’t gendered, because it doesn't serve a purpose for them to differentiate between him and her. All that matters is that it's Not Me and it's Not You.


‘And your body?’ Calaga asked. ‘Is your body from the humans?’

‘No. This form is a gift from your kind; drawings of your old undead were given to me as thanks for a favour long ago, and I was finally able to become myself.’


There is a dassen word, angilnishka, which is spoken in International as “stop hanging from the trees.”

The saying means, basically, to stop talking shit.

Many other Sentients don’t understand how the phrase could mean what it does, but after learning it’s an adapted shorthand for the literal translation “stop hanging upside down, your arse is starting to think it’s your mouth,” they usually understand.


‘What is this?’

‘If you want, I’ll leave my family for you,’ Sensin told her. ‘This place is for sale. We could live here. You and me and the kids. All you have to do us say so.’

‘S-Sensin, you—’

‘—I love you, Elli. More than anything else,’ he took her hands in his and squeezed them. ‘Even more than Ykelt loves Ziu. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you.’


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