childoftheblacksands

[childoftheblacksands]

I did a thing ✨️ with a pencil ✨️ ...and a bit of digital ;p

[childoftheblacksands]

Fundraising Stream Continues!

My partner and I are disabled queer folk facing homelessness. We finally both have emergency plans in place, but we need moving money. We also will likely need to split up unless we can get enough money to get a place together very quickly. We’ve been together for over six years and we have cats and a dog we take care of as a couple, and we’re trying our best to stay together. All funds will go to moving expenses, household necessities, and rent wherever we end up going. My goal is to get to 5,000 before I stop streaming. I will be trying to stream CONTINUOUSLY until this goal is reached. If i am unable to do so, i will take breaks to sleep, then promptly resume when i awake. I’m going to be working on commissions and trades the majority of the time. I’m going to attempt to get as many finished as possible. All donations help, even something as small as $5. If you cannot donate at all, please share this post around social media, discord servers, and anything else you can think of. If you know someone inside the US willing to take in the two of us, our four cats, and my service dog, please contact me via Discord at shinigami_of_excellence . Here are the links to help us: Our GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/4da28a83 Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/shinigamiofexcellence/goal?g=33 PayPal: https://paypal.me/excellentshinigami?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US Amazon List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CE66WB1CWVZ9?ref_=wl_share STREAM LINK: https://picarto.tv/ShiniDraws

Posted using PostyBirb

[childoftheblacksands]

Was Mozenrath really going to a party? Oh, he definitely wasn't invited there.

[childoftheblacksands]

Facing Homelessness - UPDATED GFM

We officially have less than 2 months to leave our apartment. Anyone willing to offer advice or help, please do so. I can no longer be picky about where i get help from or how much i ask for. If we don’t find a new place to live by the end of February, us and our animals will be homeless. If this happens, i will no longer be able to post art, i will not be able to continue working on comms, i will not be able to preform any of my work here any longer because i will not have stable internet or electricity. UPDATED GOFUNDME: https://gofund.me/4da28a83

Posted using PostyBirb

[childoftheblacksands]

Testsoterone and my absolutely terrible meow.

[childoftheblacksands]

The frail man's bare naked body certainly appreciated the warmth of the cloak-- for what it provided. It was easy to forget that blankets didn't create warmth, but hold it in-- and, if there was neigh none to begin with....

At the very least, it was an embrace, something to hold him as his life was slipping away. It was more than he thought he'd get-- more than he thought he deserved.

One of his eyes opened ever so slightly-- the other seemingly swollen almost totally shut from the bruising. It might've been worse had he more blood to pool in the area. When the elixir was lifted again to his lips, there was thankfully no choking that time-- for a few moments. Once three quarters of the bottle was gone, he started to heave... Though, heave was almost too strong a word. His chest bobbed with what little strength his abdominal muscles had, bringing up a belch of the liquid as it spattered down over his chin and chest.

A weak cry left his throat-- he sounded almost like a small child.

Neither Xerxes had to be told twice. They both took off, splitting up to scour the Citadel. He didn't like leaving his master, neither of them did. And the familiar of the smaller Mozenrath had every reason not to in that moment... But, he would also do anything to keep his master safe, and if that meant dispatching any guards-- or at least warning of them-- then that's what he would do, even if it meant leaving Mozenrath in the care of his double for the moment.

To the question, Mozenrath's single open eye searched for his double's face. His gaze was unfocused, staring off somewhere behind the other's head-- glassy, grey, neigh devoid of life. His lips quivered, as if he would attempt to answer, before a bubbling wheeze caused him to choke.

A cough. That was his attempt at a cough.

His eye quickly began to flutter again before falling closed. The gauntlet clad hand weakly twitched around the edge of the cloak's fabric in attempt to cling to it. His breaths became weaker, more spaced out, almost stopping entirely-- before the elixir began to set in, clearing his throat and bringing a weak but steady rise and fall to his chest.

((open starter; whump because i need it))

Xerxes had never flown so fast. The little eel traveled at speeds even he didn't think possible, panic written all over his gills.

Anyone. ANYONE would due at this rate. He didn't have time to be picky. His master didn't have many friends... any, besides him, really. But in this moment, it didn't matter. The night was cold, but it didn't slow him down. If he slowed down, his exhaustion would catch up to him. And he couldn't allow that to happen-- not while his master was in such a dire position.

"Ey! AYE! Help! MASTER! MASTER NEED HELP!" he called out, his raspy voice echoing through the streets. Dead silence. No one was about at this hour, and even fewer were likely to actually answer a flying sea creature's call. But he had to keep trying. The appearance of his master lingered in his mind, driving him forward.

He'd left through the bars of the cell, where even the moonlight didn't reach. The gaunt figure, stripped naked and beaten raw, lay curled on the cold, stone floor, several heavy chains keeping it in place-- not that they were needed. Truth be told, if he was in better condition and could stomach the pain-- which he absolutely could've, his history with the gauntlet making the frail man shockingly tolerant-- he could have slipped out of the cuffs, his wrists and ankles so thin and his joints easily pliable. But, he didn't-- he couldn't. His chest just barely rose and fell, broken ribs rolling visibly under his ashen skin, barely enough to signify life. He'd long since stopped shivering. He looked dead. He felt like death-- or, rather, in that moment, he felt nothing. He'd lost consciousness hours ago. That's when Xerxes knew he needed to leave. He hated the idea of leaving his master in such a state, but if he didn't... gods, he didn't want to think about the possibility.

Mozenrath was actively dying-- and not even at the hands of Aladdin or someone else even slightly worthy of his life. He'd had the misfortune of falling fowl of one of Destain's former "allies." The mission wasn't even one of revenge-- they didn't have such care for anyone, let alone that deplorable excuse for a man. No, it was a matter of pride, of power. The Black Sands would be easy takings with Mozenrath gone. And to say they'd defeated Mozenrath would be a badge of honor. No one had to know how they came in the dead of night, while the man was exhausted from work, his gauntlet still missing from his last tussle with his number one foe. No one had to know how they'd used his fear against him with visages of his former master. And no one had to know the things they'd done to him after catching him. No, they only had to know that they'd been the ones to end him. That's all that mattered.

And unless Xerxes could find someone in time, their plans would certainly come to fruition...

[childoftheblacksands]

(( @fallowfixation continued from here ))

The smaller Mozenrath’s eyes were wide, his pupils blown out. As he moved forward, he seemed to become less and less human. The smell of the blood made him dizzy– and it was exquisite.

He paid no heed to the warnings. And when the arm was moved and the blood flowed heavier, he lost the last shred of control he had. He leapt forward onto the larger man, claws digging into his shoulders. He lunged forward, teeth sharpened by tainting of dark magic sunk into the other’s neck. Deep, deep– breaking skin and sinking into the muscle. He gnashed his jaw to open the flow further. And as it was opened, blood poured into his mouth like a fount. He suckled on the open wound like a freshly ripened fruit, blood dripping from his lips and down his chin and neck, all over both of them.

His stomach lurched; he paid no heed. The only thing that existed in that moment was that taste– that sweet, savory taste that flooded his mouth, slid down his throat, and filled his belly with warmth.

[childoftheblacksands]

((open starter; whump because i need it))

Xerxes had never flown so fast. The little eel traveled at speeds even he didn't think possible, panic written all over his gills.

Anyone. ANYONE would due at this rate. He didn't have time to be picky. His master didn't have many friends... any, besides him, really. But in this moment, it didn't matter. The night was cold, but it didn't slow him down. If he slowed down, his exhaustion would catch up to him. And he couldn't allow that to happen-- not while his master was in such a dire position.

"Ey! AYE! Help! MASTER! MASTER NEED HELP!" he called out, his raspy voice echoing through the streets. Dead silence. No one was about at this hour, and even fewer were likely to actually answer a flying sea creature's call. But he had to keep trying. The appearance of his master lingered in his mind, driving him forward.

He'd left through the bars of the cell, where even the moonlight didn't reach. The gaunt figure, stripped naked and beaten raw, lay curled on the cold, stone floor, several heavy chains keeping it in place-- not that they were needed. Truth be told, if he was in better condition and could stomach the pain-- which he absolutely could've, his history with the gauntlet making the frail man shockingly tolerant-- he could have slipped out of the cuffs, his wrists and ankles so thin and his joints easily pliable. But, he didn't-- he couldn't. His chest just barely rose and fell, broken ribs rolling visibly under his ashen skin, barely enough to signify life. He'd long since stopped shivering. He looked dead. He felt like death-- or, rather, in that moment, he felt nothing. He'd lost consciousness hours ago. That's when Xerxes knew he needed to leave. He hated the idea of leaving his master in such a state, but if he didn't... gods, he didn't want to think about the possibility.

Mozenrath was actively dying-- and not even at the hands of Aladdin or someone else even slightly worthy of his life. He'd had the misfortune of falling fowl of one of Destain's former "allies." The mission wasn't even one of revenge-- they didn't have such care for anyone, let alone that deplorable excuse for a man. No, it was a matter of pride, of power. The Black Sands would be easy takings with Mozenrath gone. And to say they'd defeated Mozenrath would be a badge of honor. No one had to know how they came in the dead of night, while the man was exhausted from work, his gauntlet still missing from his last tussle with his number one foe. No one had to know how they'd used his fear against him with visages of his former master. And no one had to know the things they'd done to him after catching him. No, they only had to know that they'd been the ones to end him. That's all that mattered.

And unless Xerxes could find someone in time, their plans would certainly come to fruition...

[childoftheblacksands]

((i promise i'm gonna work on replies; i just got sick and have been dealing with that))

[childoftheblacksands]

I made a simple sketch out of joy that @jaeltree was returning.

Pov: Moze looks at all those questions about his personal life and realizes that nothing has changed.

[childoftheblacksands]

((open starter; whump because i need it))

Xerxes had never flown so fast. The little eel traveled at speeds even he didn't think possible, panic written all over his gills.

Anyone. ANYONE would due at this rate. He didn't have time to be picky. His master didn't have many friends... any, besides him, really. But in this moment, it didn't matter. The night was cold, but it didn't slow him down. If he slowed down, his exhaustion would catch up to him. And he couldn't allow that to happen-- not while his master was in such a dire position.

"Ey! AYE! Help! MASTER! MASTER NEED HELP!" he called out, his raspy voice echoing through the streets. Dead silence. No one was about at this hour, and even fewer were likely to actually answer a flying sea creature's call. But he had to keep trying. The appearance of his master lingered in his mind, driving him forward.

He'd left through the bars of the cell, where even the moonlight didn't reach. The gaunt figure, stripped naked and beaten raw, lay curled on the cold, stone floor, several heavy chains keeping it in place-- not that they were needed. Truth be told, if he was in better condition and could stomach the pain-- which he absolutely could've, his history with the gauntlet making the frail man shockingly tolerant-- he could have slipped out of the cuffs, his wrists and ankles so thin and his joints easily pliable. But, he didn't-- he couldn't. His chest just barely rose and fell, broken ribs rolling visibly under his ashen skin, barely enough to signify life. He'd long since stopped shivering. He looked dead. He felt like death-- or, rather, in that moment, he felt nothing. He'd lost consciousness hours ago. That's when Xerxes knew he needed to leave. He hated the idea of leaving his master in such a state, but if he didn't... gods, he didn't want to think about the possibility.

Mozenrath was actively dying-- and not even at the hands of Aladdin or someone else even slightly worthy of his life. He'd had the misfortune of falling fowl of one of Destain's former "allies." The mission wasn't even one of revenge-- they didn't have such care for anyone, let alone that deplorable excuse for a man. No, it was a matter of pride, of power. The Black Sands would be easy takings with Mozenrath gone. And to say they'd defeated Mozenrath would be a badge of honor. No one had to know how they came in the dead of night, while the man was exhausted from work, his gauntlet still missing from his last tussle with his number one foe. No one had to know how they'd used his fear against him with visages of his former master. And no one had to know the things they'd done to him after catching him. No, they only had to know that they'd been the ones to end him. That's all that mattered.

And unless Xerxes could find someone in time, their plans would certainly come to fruition...

[childoftheblacksands]

send me "be honest..." with a question your muse has been dying to ask mine and they'll answer truthfully.

[childoftheblacksands]

Deep Cups Lead to Loose Lips

((closed for @jaeltree ))

Probation didn't treat Mozenrath well.

He couldn't decide if it had been better or worse that the gauntlet hadn't claimed him. Finally receiving some form of actual healthcare for his slowly necrotizing arm-- healthcare which he'd been told, in all likelihood, would eventually require a full amputation up to the shoulder-- was a small consolation, but he didn't much like having his movement restricted. They'd all but told him to his face that he was under house arrest-- and within his enemy's walls, no less.

It was... destressing. And boring. God, it was boring.

He was thankful that one place he hadn't been barred from was the small tavern just outside the Palace. The place had been allowed to operate despite it's... less than legal amenities due to it being a safe place for the people of the night to preform their work, and it kept them off the streets. Classism at it's finest. But at least it was the one place he could get a decent drink in that infuriatingly pious city.

Though, for all his time spent there, he never actually drank there. Too many eyes, too many hands. Their reputation was good, their staff protective of their workers as well as their patrons, but Moz's trust wasn't so easily won. Instead, he'd go out, refresh himself with a less stuffy atmosphere, then leave with a large bottle under his cloak which he'd smuggle back into his fancily disguised prison cell-- the palace. And tonight, he was in the later stage of that ritual.

He was already deep in his cups by the time a familiar face waltzed into his room... "His." It was borrowed at best. He hated not being in his own space. But, it was what he had.

The amount that man could drink while being so painfully underweight spoke to the level of self-abuse he'd been doing for the past several years. He sat slumped against the back wall, sprawled out over the back of one of the many couches. He looked like a cat.

A drunken, curmudgeonly cat.

[childoftheblacksands]

He might've put up a fight at being picked up if he didn't feel like he was going to vomit out his organs. It was an obscenely small amount of food to put someone in such a state-- though, the younger Moz was also obscenely small in general. He also might've been embarrassed-- or rather, he was embarrassed, but couldn't rightly show it, hands clasped firmly over his mouth as he hiccupped sickly.

Mozenrath didn't talk much. But this was a different level of quiet. There was no bickering or grousing. He was too busy focusing on not losing the contents of his stomach. Fuck, he felt wretched. Barely a full meal inside him and his stomach ached from fullness. Xerxes had taken his place against Moz's chest, purring softly-- that helped more than anything else.

To the question, he opened his mouth-- seemingly readying a snarky comment-- but was swiftly cut off by a wretch, hand coming to slam down on his mouth. He swallowed harshly, shivering slightly.

"I wish I wouldn't."

(( @fallowfixation continued from here ))

The smaller Mozenrath’s eyes were wide, his pupils blown out. As he moved forward, he seemed to become less and less human. The smell of the blood made him dizzy– and it was exquisite.

He paid no heed to the warnings. And when the arm was moved and the blood flowed heavier, he lost the last shred of control he had. He leapt forward onto the larger man, claws digging into his shoulders. He lunged forward, teeth sharpened by tainting of dark magic sunk into the other’s neck. Deep, deep– breaking skin and sinking into the muscle. He gnashed his jaw to open the flow further. And as it was opened, blood poured into his mouth like a fount. He suckled on the open wound like a freshly ripened fruit, blood dripping from his lips and down his chin and neck, all over both of them.

His stomach lurched; he paid no heed. The only thing that existed in that moment was that taste– that sweet, savory taste that flooded his mouth, slid down his throat, and filled his belly with warmth.

[childoftheblacksands]

Mozenrath (Aladdin the series) ~ themed playlist and moodboard for anon!

(with special thanks to @jcmorrigan for giving me song and image recommendations, because I don’t know this character very well)

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9

Lost Not Forgotten - Dream Theater

Pieces - Des Rocs

Emperor’s New Clothes - Panic! At the Disco

Survival - Muse

Battle Cry - Imagine Dragons

Trespassing - Adam Lambert

I’m Gonna Win - Rob Cantor

Necromancin Dancin - Bear Ghost

Cut the Cord - Shinedown

Mirage - Lindsey Stirling

[childoftheblacksands]

**rising out of my crypt after over a year**

Xerxes after going without Moz's undivided attention for 5 mins:

[childoftheblacksands]

((Someone sing this to Moz...))