#I GUARANTEE U

[sweetvillainjude]

There’s something so raw about the image of Cardan with his sleeves rolled up washing the blood off Jude’s hands, after he’s ruined his velvet jacket to stop her bleeding. It’s one of the moments where we clearly see how much he cares for her. He wouldn’t let the guards touch her, despite—from his perspective—not having any way of knowing she wasn’t there to kill him. On top of that, he declares to the palace crowd that Jude is the rightful Queen of Elfhame, who is not in exile, stunning everyone. And then later tells Jude that he had been terrified, not of her but for her.

“It was terrifying,” he says, “watching you fall.”

“Mortals are fragile,” I say. “Not you,” he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. “You never break.”

Jurdan are wild because they may not have been able to verbalise what they felt for each other, nor even admit it to themselves, but it showed through their actions anyway.

[luminique]

lighter is a loser. idc i said what i said. behind all the cool nicknames and stylish glasses is someone who looks at you with so much love in his eyes.

it’s unfair that he is a fire attribute because he always ends up lighting a little bit of his clothes or hair on fire when he gets flustered by you. something about seeing you smile, excitedly laughing to him about your day, has him pushing his sunglasses up a little more and staring off to the side. the rest of the sons of calydon can CLEARLY see right through him though. they knew the ominous undefeated champion had a soft spot but seeing him loosen his red scarf and clear his throat was when they knew he was head over heels for you.

he doesn’t have the best memory but even he’d remember small details about you. what drink you’d prefer, which sunglasses he wore had you blushing like crazy. his love for you is quiet on the outside but deep down, it’s a blazing fire that cannot be contained.

[choccy-milky]

another batch of MCs as thanks for drawing clora🥹💖💖 once i start working on something i cant rest until i get it done so ive legit been working on these nonstop for the past 2 days from when i wake up till i go to bed.......i can finally rest 🧎‍♀️........THANK YALL AGAIN💖💖💖🙏🙏🙏 MC's in order: @moonstruckmoony @syaolaurant @dwightschrute11 @boxdstars @versailles-black @ccelicaa @ethniee @wrongcog @ashiori-chan @tamayula-hl @celestinawarlock @serpensortiamaxima @silvyadrakkon @jadepalaceyaya @zorro-d-t

[bibbsy]

failed kiss attempt

[hunniedmilk]

cannot get over how barbatos nuis look like this cat

[sanctus-ingenium]

Book's out! It comes as a pdf or an epub with 3 maps (1 of which is brand new) and 1 bonus tarot card art (repainted from the old demo version)

Synopsis: "Félix Ortega is the survivor of a childhood werewolf hunt, a deeply unpopular middle manager of a thieves’ guild, and the Púca’s newest toy. Félix’s death by exposure one cold winter’s night is reversed by the Black Horse’s hand, and he returns to a world that has moved on without him. While his oldest childhood friends from the guild struggle to accept him back into their lives after the argument that tore their friendship apart, the tyrannical lycanthrope monarchy of Inver chooses its newest victims.

SAID THE BLACK HORSE is a gaslamp fantasy inspired by Irish folklore and oral tradition set in a world pushed uncomfortably close to the margins of the faery realm."

[donamasu]

"My child, how you've grown!"

Is a parent someone who teaches you to hold a spoon? Who apologizes when they hurt you? Who takes care of your body? Who's just glad you're here?

[sillybeanies]

watercolour inky as requested by @heather-in-heels :>

[vitrificvitriol]

Wrecker sandwich with microscope filling

[imminent-danger-came]

Monkey MK: "There's something inside you, that you can't control. You know what you are, deep down. A beast, a monster—harbinger of chaos! This thing, that wants to hurt, that wants to destroy, that wants chaos! You're so terrified to let it out! But the truth is, you like it. It makes you feel strong. It's who you are!"

(5x04 The Storm Within)

-

Nine: "No, I told you, I get out either way! But, I have had enough of control, enough of watching people put themselves in cages! Of...watching them push away the chaos, when the chaos is what makes them who they are!"

(5x09 Sacrifice)

-

*sweats*

[nattikay]

friendly reminder that Neteyam is a well-adjusted kid who has a good relationship with his parents, that he tries his darnedest to be a good warrior because he genuinely looks up to his dad and wants to be like him, and that the idea that Jake and Neytiri are "forcing" him to be perfect, that they "stole his childhood" or that he's "not allowed" to be a kid, etc. are all pure fanfiction with little to no evidence in canon thanks bye

[sssammich]

day 4: garden | hallucinations

note: this story is about death, but with a twist. but still, death.

supercorptober / whumptober

---

her dark brunette hair, pulled into a low ponytail over her shoulder, swishes across her shoulder when she turns her head to a blonde woman standing at the edge of her yard, her hand hovering over the makeshift wooden fence she'd erected a handful of decades ago.

she shuts her eyes, echoes of echoes of memories float in her mind of many bygone eras, but the blue of the woman's eyes remain the same through them all. perhaps it's just a hallucination. beautiful blue-eyed blonde women come around often enough.

"you've finally found me," she says finally, after having opened her eyes and confirming that she's now face to face with the very woman she's been waiting to cross paths with.

"so i have," the woman says, her voice soft and gentle.

for the first time in almost a century, the evader of death stands in front of death herself.

death asks, "how are you?"

against her better judgment, her face breaks into an amused smile. "i'm just fine."

death nods, as if receiving her answer like they're simply discussing the weather.

after a muted beat, she comments to death, "you took your time."

"i was needed elsewhere." death says it with a half shrug, her hands resting on her waist. an image of innocence that completely belies her true powers or the true cost of her role.

she dusts her hands of the dirt and grime from her garden. she'd just gotten the hang of planting plumerias, but perhaps she'll have to worry about them at her next destination. "until next time?"

when she attempts to walk towards her house, death's voice rings in her ears from behind. "do you want to go?"

she stumbles in her steps, grabbing hold of her porch railing. she whips around, the green of her eyes studying death exactly where she stands.

"isn't that up to you?" her voice comes out strong, but quiet.

death, for the first time since her arrival, looks away.

the time between them, naturally, stretches and contracts, the two of them once again stuck in limbo.

from the foot of her porch steps, she takes decided steps towards the wooden fence. she grabs hold of the handle and swinging it back to eliminate the one physical barrier between them. mere minutes ago, she'd just been thinking about her impending departure, determining which of her contingency plans would work best for her current situation.

yet now, as she observes death's face standing in front of her, she catches a rare glimpse of death's true state of being. deep and tired and burdened, the millennia of millennia death has lived betraying the arrested youth of her face.

resolute blue eyes stare into the very depths of her and at once, a surge of renewed energy flows through body of the evader of death.

there is a lifetime of lifetimes shared between them, every single moment paired with every single emotion one could ever experience. hurt. joy. anger. sadness. pride. jealousy. happiness. pain. contentment. love.

grief.

love. grief. love. grief. love. grief. love. grief. love.

though her impossibly beating heart thunders in her chest, in her stomach settles a sense of peace. a difference in every other moment prior to this one. a change in the wind, a change in the weather, a change in time.

she brings a hand up and brushes death's blonde hair out of the way, going so far as to tuck it behind her ear. when had they done this last? before everything changed? after?

days and years and seconds and millennia.

her lips, a pale pink hue and chapped and teeth marked, press upon death's cheek. a mortal damp warmth against the coolness of immortal skin.

"will you really do it?"

death's jaw tightens. "i have caused you enough suffering. a lifetime or two, some would say."

it's a terrible joke: on the nose, expected. but the evader of death laughs because this is it. this is where they have found themselves, in a shaded garden so far away from who they used to be, once upon a time.

she sticks her finger out, pointing, accusatory. "if this is some trick—"

"it's not a trick." death grabs hold of her finger before cradling her hand to a cold chest. "it's not a trick. if you want to go, i will let you go."

grief. love. grief. love. grief. love. grief. love. grief.

she takes purchase in a singular moment, her answer having made a home on the roof of her mouth for as long as she can remember.

"i do. i want you to let me go."

death releases a shaky breath, one that falls warm on her face. "okay."

you see, the evader of death is a misnomer. incorrect. a bastardization of the truth.

the evader of death has never wanted to escape the natural progression of life, to disrupt the order of chaos. she has wanted to embrace death for all of her life, for all of the lives of her lives, but death herself has evaded her.

because death wants her but she cannot be anything but herself. neither of them can be anything but themselves.

so they have been playing an interesting cat and mouse game where the cat hides from the mouse instead, the mouse placing herself in all facets of discovery, only for the cat to betray her very being and leave the mouse alone.

the evader of death brings her arms up to wrap them around death's neck, death immediately cradling her in her arms.

a sad smile appears on her face, one overflowing with great sadness only equal to that of great tenderness.

"do you remember who we were? the first time?" she asks, their faces practically touching, their noses grazing.

death's own lip quivers. "yeah. i've never forgotten."

"that's how i want you to remember me. that's the best of me."

"all of you is the best of you."

for the first time in a long while, her body vibrates in laughter. the freest she's felt in an open cage. "i'm already in your arms, darling."

death's laugh comes out stuttering and wet, but it is more life than she has expressed for so, so very long. "can you ever forgive me for keeping you here all this time?" death asks hers.

she slides her hand to caress death's cheek, the same one she'd pressed a kiss to earlier. "i forgave you a long time ago, kara. i've just been waiting for you to forgive yourself."

grief.

kara sniffles, a tear making a run down her cheek, her name uttered out loud after years of disuse. "can i do anything for you?"

she sighs, an exhalation of all the tension she's held for all of time she's held within. this is what's right. this is correct. her body feels at home and her soul feels at rest.

"say my name. tell me a story. hold me."

"in that order?" a lopsided smile appears on kara's face. a better joke, she thinks. she appreciates. her heart sings.

"in that order."

kara clears her throat, bravely pushing past the threat of sobs, and tightens her hold.

"oh, lena. well, i think you'll like this story about these two imperfect people who met a long, long time ago. against all odds, they found each other. one of them was shadowing her cousin to interview this young ceo who was taking over her family's company. ever heard of it?"

love.

lena's mirth splits her face and she tucks her head in the crook of kara's neck, tightening her own hold of kara's body pressed against hers. satisfied, held and cradled in kara's arms. they don't let go of each other, not even when kara's tears spill and drop on alabaster skin, not even when death's grip inevitably takes over and the brightness and vibrancy in green eyes disappear once and for all.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[teratoya]

I fucking LOVE your art style!!! I absolutely NEED you to draw Abby, she would be so aesthetically pleasing <3

TYYYY here i dont have time to draw anything fancier :^)c

[astral-shiro]

One day someone tries to make fun of Kafka’s "spare tire" in Ichikawa’s hearing and he turns around and silently shows them a video that Kikoru sent of Kafka tossing 50lb bags of concrete powder like he’s picking fucking daisies

[guest-1-2-3]

Yk what blows my mind is when i’m reading something amazing right, i am so immersed in the story the writing is beautiful it’s making me feel more emotions than i’ve ever felt in all my years of living and then the end notes are just like. “uhhh hope u enjoyed ig? haha” or “idek what this is lol” like sir ma’am my guy your writing is the most gorgeous thing i have ever read. i cried and i laughed and i screamed and i did that thing where you roll around in bed and giggle like a child at 3am. if it was the zombie apocalypse and i could only take one story with me as i fought to survive it would be yours. “what even is this lmao” a masterpiece. a fucking masterpiece is what it is