#drals arano

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azandar's about to invent the lint roller lmao

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i think that zerith would give reeeeeally good hugs. like the kind that realigns every bone in ur body

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zerith your tamiit fucking bit me

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"ok fine im a homosexual"

was so tickled by this palette + name I had to draw him in it

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he's just too bitable hehe

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@tes-summer-fest TESfest day 1: forbidden

Surely knowledge doesn't come with a price, right? That sounds fake.

Coincidentally, this August marks my 10 year anniversary of being in the TES fandom, which is WILD to think about. Figured this was a good way to celebrate that!

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was looking at old art and decided to try reviving an old style I kinda liked :)

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putting drals through the horrors: new life edition

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he's having a really bad day

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my god... those old men are gay !!

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may i interest you in a tiny shitty drals in this trying time

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tagged by @pocket-vvardvark!

this was fun to think about! here's hermaeus mora's favourite little chew toy :)

tagging anyone who wants to do it! blank template under the cut:

[yansurnummu]

From Old Life

Drals had never been much of a drinker. New Life was just one of those exceptional circumstances, he supposed.

It must have been late into the night indeed for Necrom’s streets to be so devoid of life. Drals wandered, a half-thought purpose in his mind and a half-drunk bottle of sujamma in his hand, towards the catacombs.

Only stumbling a little bit, he made his way down ancient stairways and through chilly corridors, paying no mind to the wailing and howling of the bothersome dead. Eventually, he came upon the door of the crypt he sought. 

He paused as he eyed the four-letter family name in Daedric script. Stone-faced, he took a swig from the bottle he carried, before roughly shoving through the door. He crossed the dimly-lit chamber, hauling himself to sit atop the newest addition carved from stone and inlaid with gold and malachite. 

For some time, he simply sat in silence, pondering the bottle in his hand.

“This was your favourite, wasn’t it?” he eventually said. “Comberry sujamma. Seems a bit trite. Why not just make flin? Why add all the extra steps for something that tastes just as shit?”

He frowned at the bottle.

“Listen to me; you’re not even here and I’m still trying to start a fucking argument with you. Old habits, and all that…” he sighed. “Well. Wonder where you’ve gone to. You sure as shit made some enemies, didn’t you? Bound to have at least three Daedra fighting over your soul. Like nix-hounds with a piece of meat.”

His upper lip twitched in annoyance.

“I had so much I wanted to fucking say to you.” He scowled, rubbing at his eyes. “Fuck you for dying. Always had to have the last word, eh?”

What was he doing here? He scoffed to himself. Silence filled the room as he rotated the bottle between his fingers. Something like guilt sat in the pit of his stomach, despite it all. He brought the bottle to his lips once more, trying to wash the feeling down with liquor. Vehk, this was why he never drank.

“I’m… sorry things ended the way they did, for what it’s worth.” he said softly. “Not just this, but… all of it. I’ve got… well. I’ve learned some things about myself. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you’d laugh at me, for one reason or another. But… I have someone now. A man. I think you’d like him, in some ways. Or maybe you’d kill each other, who’s to say?”

A ghost of a smile crept onto his face for a moment as he pictured it. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Mind, I don’t think you’d have let me, but I wanted to fucking try. This was all your idea, after all. Your grand plan. Went swimmingly, didn’t it? Though… I suppose I wouldn’t be here without everything you did. Fucked, isn’t that? You ruined my life, but at the same time you saved it, in a sick, definitely accidental sort of way. I think I would’ve been well worse off, had things stayed the same. Gods forbid you drag me down with you.”

A long, suffering sigh escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Anyways,” he muttered, “I forgive you. Only because I know you’d fucking hate that I did. You’d want me to know eternal torment. Well… good riddance to our old life, I say. Here’s to the new one.”

He tipped the bottle in his hand, watching honey-brown liquor splash against stone. He stood then, leaving the bottle behind as he moved towards the open door.

“Goodbye, Shelreni.”

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“I’m sorry,” Drals said, his voice just above a whisper. “Yesterday, I… said some things. Things I didn’t mean, but… I think I wanted to be true.” “Why would you want those things to be true?” Azandar turned to him, leaning his head against the opposite side of the window frame. Drals sighed, mirroring him, no longer avoiding his eyes. “It’s easier, isn’t it? When you know people don’t want to stick around. When you don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror and face the things you’ve done. It’s easier being a fuckup when you’re alone. Now I feel like I’ve got an audience.” “Ah,” the corner of his mouth turned into a smile. “Introspection is a cruel mistress.” “Never knew her, before I met you.”

a scene from my fic that I really wanted to try drawing. I just love them a lot :')

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this was a sketch that kinda got away from me. I just love them so much :')

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ok ok here's the Zerith/Drals fic I promised!

it's 2.4k words of sexual tension & smut. that's all :')