#*for clarity’s sake

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Guardian swap au for 4/13 ^ ^

[8pxl]

14 yrs ago i started playing magic the gathering as a kid, and i had the dream to do art for them

3 yrs ago i tweeted about those dreams:

today i’ve released 11 official magic the gathering cards, and it’s honestly so surreal and insane to me! i did that!! i fulfilled a childhood dream, and i honestly couldn’t be more proud 🥹

[gltownsend]

This is super long, but it did turn out to have the word frantic in it twice (oops) so maybe that makes up for it. It also features a reasonably explicit (but not graphic) scene of a character being seriously injured and almost dying, so content warning for that.

- (Nikora perspective)

It was very quick. A short, sharp grating noise. The animal charged from behind–head lowered–antlers forwards– Tijil's head cracked open easily as the shell of a seed between stones. He crumpled. The animal bolted for the trees.

Distantly, through the roaring in Nikora’s ears, Edie was yelling. It only took two long dazed steps—infinity—for him to fall to his knees at Tijil's side. Nikora couldn't see Tijil’s face—his hair was scattered messy over it now like it never was—but his head didn't look the right shape.

Darkness was spreading out from underneath it. Nikora touched it, uncomprehending. His fingers came away wet.

Tijil took a very shallow breath and the world came into violent focus. Nikora realised his own breath was coming fast, ragged, shaky. Tijil. He didn't know what to do. No. He didn't know where he could touch– what he would make worse– his fingers were red. Tijil. There was so much of it, dark, hot. He realised he was talking under his breath, running the words together with panic– fuck, Tijil, oh, no, fuck, just– no, hold still, no, don't, Tijil, no, Tijil–

Adityi crashed to his side, already scrambling one hand for Tijil's wrist and one for his head, shoving his hair—damp and sticky—out of the way. Tijil. Blood left thick glistening trails over her fingers and hand. Nikora gagged like he was the one injured. Tijil–

He didn't understand. He couldn't– his brain wasn't putting the picture together from the pieces, fragmented– shattered– shards of dark brown skin going colourless and gasps growing quieter and blood and blood and blood–

The dry leaves crunched under his feet as they came to the edge of the forest. Nikora whipped around frantically—terrified—filled with adrenaline—shaking—to Tijil, walking calmly at the tail of the group.

Keeping an eye on everyone else like it was them who needed protection.

All of Nikora's breath left him in a short, sharp, sound like he'd been punched. Tijil's eyes immediately swung to him. I love you. The incomprehensible terror, the sickening dread, the incoherent grief boiled in him and were joined by an overwhelming jittery feeling of injustice and rage. How dare Tijil just walk there like– nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t– I love you.

Maybe if he thought it hard enough Tijil would feel it and stay safe forever.

By now, he had stopped walking for long enough that everyone else had come to a kind of uncoordinated pause and were looking at him like he was going to say something.

The eyes on him were nerve-wracking now. His legs were numb. He felt a bit like they weren't actually supporting him, like the tremor had overcome him. Forced him to the floor. How could he just be– standing, after that–

"I want to take a break," he announced, then slung his backpack to the ground and sunk down beside it almost uncontrolled. His voice had stayed steady, like it didn't even know. He couldn't let them go in there, not this time– he couldn't let it happen again. Tijil. He couldn't.

Tijil looked around to the others, almost confused but not quite. I love you.

But he sat next to Nikora—much more gracefully—and after he did, everyone else sat as well.

"I want to go around the forest," Nikora said, quieter. His voice was shaky, now that he was just talking to Tijil. I love you. I love you. Tijil's eyes were dark and warm and alive. His skin was brown and glowing in the sun and not-grey and alive, alive, alive. "We can't go through– in there."

"Why?" It sounded almost like an accusation. Of course Tijil could tell Nikora knew something he didn't. He always knew things like that. I love you.

"I'll tell you later," Nikora said, even though he wouldn't. He couldn't. He didn't think he would ever be able to put it into words, those few terrified, frantic, adrenaline-filled moments where the world ended hot and sticky and red. The hopeless grief for something that hadn't even quite happened yet but was only seconds away, the dread of futility, the regret and pain and fear and–

Already the intensity of the emotion was fading in the sunlight like a bad dream, his hands stilling, his voice smoothing out. He would never have been able to do it justice– he would never have been able to make Tijil understand. And he couldn't trivialise it– couldn't say we already went through there and you died like it was nothing. Like it hadn’t– affected him. Like the word affected was anywhere even close to describing the mind-consuming devastation of the world dropping out from under his feet.

Tijil already knew Nikora wasn't going to tell him– he studied Nikora intently. Nikora could see in his face. Most people Nikora had talked to about it—everyone except Tijil’s mum—thought Tijil was hard to read. Nikora didn’t. It normally gave him a strange sense of pride. Right now it was all relief. I love you.

Tijil looked at him for a long time, but they went around the forest.

Daily Sip 1/9

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[andromedasea]

happy pride to people with ‘contradicting’ identities i love you and you’re doing it right

[transsexualhollyleaf]

redraw of this post with the character design challenge since some designs have updated

[tgcg]

[vegley]

og image under cut :p

[gammija]

its them, the .JMJ Error

[canisalbus]

I'm sure you've already answered this but is Machete styled after a silken windhound? He is so very shaped

His breed is fictional, but it closely resembles modern day Ibizan hound. Both Silkens and Ibizans are sighthounds though, so you're not far off.

[crushedsweets]

nobody ever listens to toby, not without questioning him 100 times. he's used to being interrogated, ignored, brushed off, assumed to be stupid or useless or a mindless attack dog. he feels like he has to protect everything, prove himself, kill everything to keep what matters safe. always on high alert, the first to act, told what to do, never to be listened to, never to be trusted.

but kate asks him what he wants her to do. kate looks to toby when something happens. kate lunges before toby has the chance to. goes to him the second something is wrong. toby says attack, kate slaughters. she doesnt trust anyone the way she trusts toby and she'd kill anyone getting in the way of their friendship. cuz someone like kate doesnt get someone like toby too often.

she doesnt get someone who'll drag a mattress through a forest and dirty mineshaft so she can rest easier. doesnt get someone who gives her shitty band t shirts so she can stop wearing the same shirt from the last 5 years. someone who brings her food and water and doesnt treat her like a goddamn animal for once in her proxy life. she thinks he's a dumb asshole, but he's also the most clever, hardworking, genuine friend she's had. somehow...

[vervainvoyage]

Every time I talk to the giant lady she's blasting a boyband at full volume. In the middle of a moon overgrown with creepy infested flesh. I like her attitude!

[mokagachas]

you guys enable me too much

[efverse]

finally updated the family tree ^^

[ranticore]

Bowman (age 33)

[spiders-and-swords]

Very rough sketch and color mockup of Senshi making breakfast in only an apron :side stare:

Could be interpreted as post-canon or in the slight future. I love seeing people give Senshi his own house. I think his kitchen would be very cozy and welcoming

[fizzierolli]

for all four other fans of this out there 😭