#izel tag

[moookar]

arthur and john reading poetry in a garden, for the painting asks???? i know it would be lovely in your style <3333

I put them in a park in early fall because I’m SO ready for summer to be over. Arthur remaining blind even after separation has a very special place in my heart

[izel-scribbles]

@kaynes-bloody-feet i see ur vision

pre-s1 crew

t4t bella and arthur canon

^ i might do an actual drawing with that one

anyways, more vampire au (john in a dress!!! john in a dresss!,!)

@moookar instead of writing an outline i just drew these. yeah

last page ayeeeeee

[yelly-ink]

it's my pillars phase once again so yeah, Aloth Iselmyr with ale!

also a lot of crappy sketches with my watcher. her name is Izel and she's a priest of Wael, also an explorer (I think she was a cartographer) from the Deadfire Archipelago. YES, an orlan. again. this time a wild one!

i keep forgetting her earrings

I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I like Durance. and Hiravias is still my favourite character

oh and um. she also has a gun.

[dabruzzy]

Onyx Equinox characters as text posts part 1

[birds-of-the-sur]

What is Holding You Back?

The inability to rely on others without feeling like a burden.

You're spending way too much time trying to find an explanation for everything you do and think, aren't you? you feel like all of the answers have to come from inside of you, since that's the role you've grown into. from the outside, people think you have it together. they see your open arms as invitation, and therefore keep leaning on you. at first, it was okay, since you wanted to help. but slowly, you're being dragged further and further down. you need help, too. but you're supposed to be there for everyone else. you're the one they go to when they're struggling. you've put everyone else first, and now you feel like you can't allow others to know that you need help. please, stop telling yourself you're fine. deep down, you know you aren't. things don't have to be this way. you can let those people in. if anything, they will be grateful that you reached out. can you imagine how nice it'd feel to take a break from dealing with this all on your own?

Tagged By: @lastmurianwarrior​ thanks for tagging me:3

Tagging: Since I’m really late- Anyone who hasn’t done it yet and is wearing a hat :v

[lunar-solarsystem]

@ellamenop

reblog if ur bi, ur not biphobic, or ur best friend is a beautiful valid bisexual

[potato-lord-but-not]

MORE JOHNS AND ARTHURS 🤭🤭🤭

okayyy I actually really really love how all these turned out like!! everyone stop having such good John designs challenge IMPOSSIBLE. There for a split second I was questioning my reasoning for including Arthur cus he really is just some guy BUT i actually had a really fun time drawing em all!

Once again tagging bc I’m a menace-: @eva-birdman-art, @godwaltz, @mx-paisley, @toastydumpster, @izel-scribbles, and @samglyph !!

Also after gathering all the people I wanted to draw I found SO MANY MORE GOOD DESIGNS OUGH this fandom never ceases to impress me y’all are crazzzyyy

[da-cti]

Drew the Oscars I got from that post! If anyone adds any others on I'll try to draw them :]c

Close-ups under the cut with tags!

@gaysquares

@izel-scribbles

@wremms

@staticbluue

[ananxiousgenz]

HEY YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS????? JARTHUR COWBOY AU TIME!!!!!

this one also comes with a bit of info for the beginning:

@percymawce-arts and I have finally given this monster child of ours a name!! from here on out, this fic shall be known as "When the Land was Godless and Free" (a lyric from the song foreigner's god by hozier)!

the chapters we are posting are like. severely out of order. we've just been going crazy behind the scenes (we keep getting good ideas and then discussing/writing them for literal hours, it's a great time). percy basically wrote all of this and i just did some minor edits and left all caps comments screaming about how fucking GOOD this is, so any and all compliments should be directed at him <3

and some trigger warnings: this chapter contains alcohol and some suggestive themes!!

@izel-reblogs and @ellamenop (if you guys want me to stop tagging you please lmk)

“Here’s to John and Arthur! Arthur and John!” Noel shouted, stepping up onto the bar and raising his beer, some of it sloshing over the side of the cup with the motion. “Freaky-ass, sharpshooting, vigilante crime-fighting extraordinaires! Without you two, those gangsters would still be shooting up this charming little town.” He flashed a wink and a gaggle of girls seated behind John giggled. John rolled his eyes. “To John and Arthur!”

“To John and Arthur!” the bar echoed, jovial sounds of conversation and rowdy drinking soon filling the space again. John smiled into his drink, only to choke and nearly fall out of his chair when Noel clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Get ready for a lot of free drinks,” he said, hopping down to the floor. “This town’s full of generous rich folks just waiting for a chance to throw some money around.” 

John groaned. “Does that mean I have to talk to people?”

“I’m afraid so, darlin’,” Noel said, all easy charm and swagger as he leaned up against the bar next to John. “Uh oh. Don’t look now, but there’s one coming up behind you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” John swore under his breath as a young blonde woman in a pink (and startlingly revealing) dress came up to the bar beside him. “That was fast,” he whispered to Noel, who barely managed to hide a snigger.

“Hi!” the woman squealed, her pitch akin to metal nails on glass. John winced. Voice aside, her general disposition was the near equivalent to staring straight into the afternoon sun, and the neon pink of her dress didn’t help matters.

“Can I buy you a drink, cowboy?” she crooned, gently brushing a hand over his shoulder as she smiled far too brightly (the whole blind sharpshooter gig tended to work better when only one of them was blind). 

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh, I don’t-”

“It’s on the house for you, sweetheart. I’ll pay for everything, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. So, how about that drink?” She moved in closer beside him, her hand drifting up his neck and along his jawline. John was only beginning to think of how to politely decline when he felt a looming presence over his shoulder.

“Only if you buy for all of us,” Arthur said, not unkindly. But John had been traveling with him for long enough to recognize the hint of something else beneath the politeness. Not what it was, just that it was there. The woman giggled.

“Well, of course! Anything for our dashing heroes!” John glanced over his shoulder at Arthur. His face was set in stone, watching the woman like a hawk on a rabbit as she slipped a few coins into the bartender’s hand and waited for drinks in return. He looked… tense. Like he was a piece of rope, stretched to the verge of snapping, and if that annoying woman made one wrong move, he would.

Noel raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “You must be a real hit with the ladies,” he murmured into his glass, looking Arthur up and down as he did so. Arthur paid him no mind.

The sunshine woman was not the last to buy them a round of drinks, not by a long shot. Plenty of flirtatious ladies (and a few flirtatious men), thankful patrons and impressed watchmen approached them, hoping to show their gratitude by buying them a shot or a glass of whiskey. Arthur didn’t leave John’s side the whole night, quick to shut down any attempts at seduction by feigning ignorance to the intentions of anyone who approached them. But John knew better. John could see the hard set of his jaw, how he gripped his glass too tightly whenever a scantily clad lady twirled her hair around her finger, or a rambunctious young cowboy leaned too far into John’s personal space. It made John’s heart flutter wildly in his chest. 

The drinks only slowed as the saloon emptied out, leaving Noel, Arthur and John three sheets to the wind, laughing uproariously at something stupid as the morning sun came over the horizon (Oscar had retired hours before, drunker than anyone at the bar much, much faster. Arthur had squeezed his shoulder and bid him goodnight with an expression of concern that made John’s heart clench).

Noel wiped tears from his eyes and looked over John’s shoulder, out the window behind him. When he saw the beginnings of daylight creeping over the horizon, he sighed. (He watched them, Arthur and John, engaged in a quiet but passionate discussion about something he couldn’t parse. They were both flushed and leaning in too close, chuckling at every other word that passed between them, oblivious to the rising sun or the empty saloon or Noel’s hands on their arms, steering them towards their room at the inn upstairs).

John chuckled (he did not giggle, he chuckled) as Noel tossed him into their rented room, with Arthur following soon after. He tripped over a trunk near the foot of the bed on his way in, falling forward onto the mattress with a gentle oof. Arthur laughed at him much too loudly for whatever time it was. 

“Alright, you two,” Noel said, trying to hold back a laugh, “wash up and go to bed. God, I should’ve never given that toast, you’re both insufferable drunks.”

“Oh, shhhhhhh,” Arthur hushed, pulling John out of bed by his wrist. John leaned fully against Arthur in an effort to stay upright. It mostly worked. “You loooooove us,” he laughed. Noel smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes but unable to keep the fond expression off his face. “You keep telling yourselves that.” He wiped his nose and tipped his hat to them. “Goodnight, you two.” Then he closed the door, and it was just them. John and Arthur, Arthur and John. 

“Okay, come on,” John said after a long stretch of silence, inelegantly turning Arthur in the direction of their shared washbasin and mirror. Arthur giggled a bit as John tried to move him forward, mumbling some drinking song under his breath that John didn’t recognize (maybe it’s a British one, John thought lamely). They tripped over each other's feet a few times, but ultimately made it to the edge of the sink without completely falling over. 

When they did, John braced his hands on either side of it with a tired sigh, watching his reflection in the mirror. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead and a flush to his cheeks from the alcohol, but otherwise he seemed in decent condition. A few cuts and scrapes, some new and some old, and his braid was a little out of sorts, but nothing really concerning–

Then all the haziness of the alcohol and the late night was gone because Arthur’s full weight was at his back, his warmth permeating the fabric of John’s shirt and vest. His hot breath fanned across John’s ear and jaw, his eyes fluttering closed with the weight of inebriation. John inhaled shakily, suddenly brought back to shifting bodies and whiskey and fireworks with such vivid clarity it could have been real.

But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. John was drunk. Arthur was drunk, he could barely stand up straight, for fucks sake. He was just using John for support, falling asleep on his shoulder, and… 

And pressing his nose behind John’s ear, ghosting his lips over the back of his jaw. Breathing his name with a pained expression. John’s own expression matched, half lidded eyes never leaving the mirror, tense and pained and wanting, oh-so deeply, for the one thing he knew he couldn’t have.

Despite himself, John’s eyes slipped closed. His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving his body as Arthur hands came up to rest on his hips. His head tilted, granting Arthur access to more of his jaw and neck. And Arthur took it. He didn’t kiss, but he skimmed. Barely there, almost not real, deniable. Like a spirit. Like a gut feeling. Like instinct.

“John…” Arthur breathed. John felt a shiver work its way down his spine at the sound of Arthur’s voice at the base of his skull, reverberating in his head like it was meant to be there. It took every ounce of will that John had to keep the small moan building in the base of his throat from escaping.

“Arthur,” he answered, voice hoarse and quiet. He wanted to open his eyes. Wanted to see himself in the mirror with Arthur over his shoulder, arms around him, nosing at his neck and shoulder, resisting the urge to press warm kisses into his skin. Or maybe to bite. To draw blood. John had never been shown a difference between violence and love. Maybe they weren’t so different. He hoped so. He wanted… 

He wanted to see the look on Arthur’s face. Would it be like it was that day in the cabin? Shocked and a little confused but mostly needy. Yearning for something. Yearning for John. Or would it be darker? Dark like the clouds before a storm, the kind of storm that drowned you with rain and filled the air with electricity. Would it be dark like he was holding back? Like John was? 

But John didn’t open his eyes, no matter how badly he wanted to know. If his eyes stayed closed, he could pretend Arthur’s gentle, delicate touch wasn’t there at all. Just a taste of something more, enough to leave John wanting. Enough for him to imagine. Enough for it to stay a pleasant, alcohol induced dream. If he opened his eyes it would be real, and it would have to stop. And John did not want it to stop.

“John,” Arthur murmured, his voice just above a whisper now. “Open your eyes.” The timbre of it was deep, so much deeper than John had heard it before. How could he have possibly known? How could he know John so well in so little time? So completely? The moan John was holding on to finally slipped past his lips when Arthurs grip on his waist tightened, ever so slightly. “John,” Arthur choked. 

“I can’t,” John whispered as Arthur’s fingers moved from his hips, leaving a burning heat behind in the shape of Arthur’s palm. They trailed up and up, tugging at the buttons of John’s shirt as they went, making his breath hitch. Up to his open collar, nails dragging across John’s collar bone and hollow of his throat. Until they wrapped ever so gently around his neck, the thumb coming up to guide John’s jaw this way and that. John was breathing hard, now.

“Why?” Arthur asked, pressing himself closer, still, to John. John whined.

“I…” I want to. God, I want to. Make me. “Please, Arthur, don’t make me. Please, just–”

John gasped when he felt Arthur’s teeth scrape lightly over the skin of his neck, his hand flying up to grip Arthur’s hair, his shoulder, something. To hold Arthur. But he was stopped by a strong grip on his wrist, which guided his hand back down to the edge of the sink, holding it there. Pinning it. 

“John,” Arthur whispered. John’s chest was rising and falling like Akke’s after a long sprint, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s. Arthur’s thumb caressed his knuckles, white with the strength of his grip on the sink.

“Please,” they said at the same time. John’s brow furrowed, his lips hung parted in anticipation. His mind swung wildly from the present, between Arthur and the mirror with a hand around his throat, to the cabin, pressing Arthur to the wooden floor, pinning his wrists above his head. The burning momentum between them suddenly halted by John’s fear, like a landslide on the track before a train. Now the train was out of control again, brakes screeching against wheels that just wouldn’t stop, sparks flying. Sparks like fireworks. Sparks like live wires. Sparks like exploding gunpowder.

But then the warmth at his back was gone. Along with it the hand at his throat and the one  pinning his own to the sink. The teeth at the junction of his neck and shoulder and the hot breath on his skin vanished, leaving only a stark coldness where they’d been before. John sighed, whether in relief or disappointment he didn’t know, and opened his eyes.

The flush on his face had migrated down his neck and chest, which was exposed now (when had Arthur done that?) and heaving. The ‘light sheen’ of sweat was beading at his temples and brow now, falling in drops down to his jaw, along the bridge of his nose. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide and his neck was bare. 

And Arthur, leaning drunkenly against the wall behind him, arms crossed, expression chilly. He was breathing heavily too, and his face was red like the first hints of daylight in the sky. But it was the hard set of his mouth and brow that made John shiver.

“We should go to bed, John,” he said, voice still raspy. A needy, sad little sound rose from John’s throat then, and John’s hand flew to his mouth, as if to force the offending sound back in. Arthur swallowed and turned, ready to head back to one of the twin beds awaiting them. Side by side and yet still miles apart. “And don’t worry.”

“It’ll all feel like a dream, tomorrow.”

[symbiotic-slime]

My Venom/Malevolent Crossover Ramblings

there’s like 15 of you guys who liked that post so i figured i would share my idea! also shout out to @bat-luun and @french-toast-enjoyer for letting me ramble about this in ur dms while I was trying to solidify the idea :D

It revolves around how similar Arthur and Eddie’s careers are. Arthur was a private investigator and now gets sent around investigating various cults and Eddie is an investigative journalist. so if I could get them to the same time, it would be pretty easy to have them meet.

So my idea is that Kayne uses his time fuckery magic to send Arthur and John to San Fran in the the 21st Century to find some random mcguffin he wants. Arthur starts investigating this cult, which from the other cults in Malevolent tend to be like the higher ups of society.

Eddie would be investigating the cult for completely different reasons. maybe there’s like money laundering, maybe people have disappeared and it seems to be tied to this group idk. One day while on the job he runs into Arthur, and they decide to be partners while working on this case.

Cue a bunch of shenanigans where they are both trying to act completely normal and like they aren’t sharing a body with another entity. They both keep noticing how weird the other one is acting but never speak up about it lest they be discovered for also doing weird things. Both John and Venom are suspicious of the other person, but neither of them want to make the first move.

Eventually, Eddie and Arthur are caught by the cultists. They’re surrounded. Eddie gives up on protecting their identity and transforms into Venom to save their lives. Afterwards Eddie tries to explain what happened to Arthur, expecting him to be freaked out and terrified, but Arthur is just like “Wait. You’re like me?” and tells Eddie about John.

Arthur also gets his moment to use his powers, just not in combat because let’s be honest John and Arthur aren’t very formidable in like any combat scenario. Their lead turns up dead. Eddie’s frantic, trying to figure out what happened and how to continue their investigation. Arthur touches the person, learning how they died and helping them continue to unravel what happened and who did it.

While this is all going on, both Eddie + Venom and John + Arthur learn things about each other and their relationships through the other. Is this fic idea also an excuse for me to write John and Arthur learning how to fucking communicate for once because they see Venom and Eddie acting as a team? Yes, yes it is.

Eddie gives Arthur advice on bodysharing and successfully navigating a romantic relationship like that, completely unaware that they’re not officially dating each other. Insert a Rosa Diaz “you two just need to bone” moment.

Eddie and Arthur get coffee together after the cult bullshit is said and done. John and Arthur are getting along a lot better. When Eddie tries to ask if they took his advice, Arthur blushes furiously and tells him that this is not an appropriate conversation to be having. Eddie smiles smugly for the rest of their time together.

Also Kayne dies because I hate him (sorry to all the Kayne lovers out there I understand why u like him he just pisses me off). It would be incredibly funny if it was treated as unseriously as Cletus’ death in Venom Let There Be Carnage where Venom just says “fuck this guy” and bites his head off.

tagging the people who said they wanted to hear my ramblings: @izzythedemigod @larsons-shattered-eyeballs @izel-reblogs :D

[izel-scribbles]

@lickmycoffeecup and @dgoul asked for jmart!

(jon: what are you looking at?)

(martin: you <3)

[my-corneroftheworld]

Child without love

Summary: Namor finds a marine biologist with the powers to control water and deep knowledge of the sea and is intrigued.

Word count: 1,5k

Tags: Smut!!! (no minors allowed), "water-bender" reader x Namor after the events from Wakanda forever, possessive Namor, mutant reader, asphyxiation, war, violence, harsh language, the usage of y/n, Overstimulation, Edging, I dunno if it needs a dub-con tag but imma just leave it here just in case (consent is key guys), unprotected sex (wrap it before you plow it guys), afab reader

Ps. I hope you're thirsty cuz we got some spicy scenes coming up. Also, keep in mind this is my first smut ever so it won't be perfect. If you don't wanna read it you can skip it and read the next chapter with no issue. As usual, I accept any constructive criticisms in the comments and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you as usual for all the support.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

It’s been weeks since our last encounter. After concluding our agreement I started training with Namora and sometimes even with Attuma. I always found it easier to knock him off his feet compared to her. She was fast and agile and so was he but the size difference made him the easier target. My skills developed far more quickly than ever before with the intense training. Though I'd hate to admit it to Namora, constantly getting beat down by her must have forced my power to align with my intentions. She was a great but strict teacher and I would be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by her. Izel was present during most of my training hours, translating orders and feedback. Zyanya however usually left when it started, I don’t blame her, it was long hours and since her bump started showing, I have accepted that I might not see her after a few weeks. She has spoken to me and Izel about baby names but is still unsure what to choose. I’ve grown fond of her and Izel, I would even go as far as considering them as friends though I don't if they think the same of me.

The air was cold against my skin whiles I walked through the cave's interior. Occasionally I would stumble upon a guard and they would give me a knowing nod. This became a routine whenever I was plagued by thoughts and as a result, couldn't sleep. Everything came at night or at least I thought of it as night. Time seems to move differently here. Without clocks or the sun, I can never be sure how many days it's been. I miss the sun, the moon, the sand but I am glad I have the sea. I miss my friends and I miss Adeoye's concerned face. He would flip if he saw where I was and what I was doing. I wonder if they're looking for me or maybe they don't know that I'm missing. I hope that when the time comes I can save them.

After walking aimlessly for a while I found myself near his cabin. This wasn't my intention but I did want to see him. I wanted to ask about that night but I don't think it would be wise. What would I say? Why did you try to kiss me? Why did you stop? Even if we had kissed, what would that make me the woman who got kidnapped by a perceived god, trained to be his weapon and his side piece? It would be ridiculous to think he was interested in anything else but my power.

For all, I know this could be a manipulative tactic to keep me in line. A tactic that I am far too willing to fall for. I moved closer to the small abode; stopping at the entrance. I hesitated for a moment. I reached out and knocked on the wood near the curtain. There was no response. Nervously I gave a little "Hello?". Still no answer. I peeked past the curtain and found the cabin to be empty. I slowly walked in. Where is he? Maybe he only comes here from time to time. I guess this cabin is a bit too cozy for the ruler of Talokan. I looked over his desk and saw brown stacks of paper with some kind of writing on them. I really need to learn Yucatec Mayan. I'm sure Izel would tutor if I asked. I strolled around the room until I saw the bed and instinctively decided to sit on it. It felt so illegal, so wrong but I miss him. I just sat there looking at the room until I heard voices outside the cabin, out of panic I decided to hide underneath the bed. Not long after I saw two pairs of feet and realized it was Namora talking to him. From what I could make out from the tone of their voices they were discussing something important. Honestly, I couldn't care less because if any of them find me here I will never be able to live it down this is beyond embarrassing not to mention I'm trespassing. When Namora left the room, Ku'kulkan decided to sit by the table. I heard him sigh and then say:

"You can come out now"

A part of me didn't want to, I'd rather bury myself under this bed than face him like this but I knew that he would drag me out if I didn't, so I did. When I got up I was greeted by the man I was so desperate to see, sitting widespread with a cheeky smile on his face. He was making fun of me.

"I must admit I was surprised to find you here. I thought that a woman of science would be smarter than to enter a home uninvited."

"I didn't mean to. I just..." I stopped myself before I could admit it. My heartbeat quickened. This was a bad idea. He stood up from his chair and walked up to me. "You just what?" He looked at me with want for what, I did not know. I could feel his breath on my skin and smelled the dried saltwater on his. "I just...wanted to..." He moved his face toward mine etching ever so closely "what's wrong? Do make you nervous y/n?" I nodded fearing my voice would crack if I spoke. I moved back, stumbling on the bed as he followed. "Do you want me?" He asked. I suddenly felt like everything was too much. The room was too warm, the air too thick and he was too far away whiles simultaneously being too close. But I wanted him closer. "yes," I said in a whisper, and with that our lips met.

It was slow at first, we moved in sync with each other, and his hand began to touch my waist moving up to my chest and I his. But then he became hungry for more, he discarded my dress and started kissing my neck harshly. I could help but moan egging him he started making his way down past my chest to my already-soaked core. He parted my legs wide, seeing everything. It made me twitch with anticipation. He pushed my legs back onto my folding me slightly like a sandwich. He licked softly, slowly, and then began to increase the pace. His necklaces would graze past my thighs whiles he ate me out with precision and grace. It did not take long before I felt my orgasm approaching. I was a moaning mess wet mess beneath him and he made sure to keep eye contact which only increased the ecstasy of my experience. "I'm close" I whispered like a plea. "Don't stop"

He gave no indication that he heard nor cared for what I was saying and right when I was about to reach my peaked I realized why. He stopped and I almost cried at the sudden withdrawal. I looked at him with confusion and after a second he started his advancements again. And this became his procedure for the next hour. The ebb and flow of pleasure and denial. I was begging and crying for a release, saying I would do anything he wanted but he gave no response other than small sushes and "you can take it". I couldn't think of anything other than his tongue lapping and sucking my clit. The way his hand held my thighs up and gripped at my skin. All I knew was him and everything I worried about and everything I was didn't matter. In this moment all that mattered was him.

Suddenly he stopped and kissed my cheek before taking off his shorts and neckpieces. He moved back on top of me, kissing me as he aligned his tip before slowly pushing it in. The stretch was cathartic. My overstimulated core felt everything to the max. Like everything else, he started off slow before increasing to the most delicious pace. It did not take much for me to etch closer and closer to the edge hoping that he would let me cum. I said his name over and over again praying for him fuck me harder. The room was filled with the filthy sound of our skin slapping against each other as he granted my every wish. In my haze, I could see how my juices were all over his mouth and neck, I could see the sweat on his forehead making his hair adhere to his skin. I could hear the grunts and thinness of his breath and I knew he was close too. He pounded relentlessly as I felt the familiar electricity of my climax flush over me. He continued without missing a beat for a few moments more, leaving me crying from overstimulation, before he finished inside of me. He kissed me again between beaten breaths before I let my exhaustion take over.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff!

Writing Share Tag

This is from Honor's Outcasts book1 (Djek’s introduction, in fact)

A brutal thud sounded from the room. Again, the sickening noise came forth. Again and again and again. The rhythm of the crunch-snap matched the beating of Djek’s heart, growing faster and faster to an accompaniment of keening wails.

She’s doing this for our own good. Would you rather be the one in there, you bleeding heart bastard? he reasoned desperately. In this world, you’re either giving the beating or taking it. And the Tunnel Wasps aren’t the sort to shy from giving one. It’s her or me. Them or us.

His eyes ached with dryness, yet Djek was unable to close them any more than he was able to drown out the sounds of the beating. He was on watch. This was his job; make sure no one got in or out. And by the gods, he wouldn’t fail this time.

He wouldn’t fail. Not like Shasvi, or Nace, or Fabaeil. Ok, Fabaeil hadn’t really been his fault, it was just that he hadn’t really known how strong dwarvish ale was. And then they’d asked him to kill that boy and he’d had to pretend to be sick—

Just as Djek’s mind began to wander, a faint movement caught the corner of his vision.

Shit.

Squinting, Djek could just make out the hazy form of a small child. He wasn’t any good with kids’ ages, but this one was on the young side. Her cotton nightgown stood out fiercely against her coppery skin. In the dark, it was hard to make out the details, but Djek didn’t need good vision to tell the girl’s cheeks were wet with tears.

Shit!

Djek glanced back into the bedroom. The floor was a smear of red. Like a splattered fruit, petals of gore spread from the shuddering body of the debtor. In one corner, Eztli Izel sobbed, one hand covering her face while the other reached for her love.

Between them stood Tyche. His friend was focused on methodically wiping clean her brass knuckles. Swiftly, Djek shifted his focus back towards the child.

He almost screamed when he noticed how close the girl had crept. Why the fuck are kids so damn creepy! Do I kill her—

No! The thought, then the brutal realization that he’d had it, hit Djek like a knife to the gut. No, no, no, no!

Glancing side to side, Djek shuffled closer to the girl. This close, her face resolved itself into one of soft features and a cleft lip. Her mouth quivered, eyes locked on Djek’s. She seemed to be almost about to ask him something.

In a panic, Djek summoned his shadows. Immediately, the girl’s face shifted from mute shock to fight-or-flight terror. She ran. Who wouldn’t after such a display? Djek gave a prayer of thanks for the home’s sumptuous carpet. Her escape was all but silent.

A hand clapped over his shoulder. This time, Djek screamed for all he was worth.

“Hey, cool it!” Tyche spat. “We’re done here.”

“Sorry! Sorry. I— I guess I’m just a little jumpy.” Djek’s heart pounded so loud he could barely hear his own excuses.

Tyche sighed. “You done good out here. Now let’s get the fuck out. I need a good bar crawl.”

“Isn’t the retrieval early tomorrow?”

“Sure is,” Tyche shrugged. “But… Well, we have to take the fun times when we can. Who knows what tomorrow holds?”

Djek gave a weak smile, but a sincere one. “You know me, always up for a good bar crawl.”

I'll tag @rkmoon @cssnder @sergeantnarwhalwrites @leahnardo-da-veggie and anyone else who wants to share :)

[aglitchysylveon]

slides in with question

List 5 things that make you happy, and put this in the ask box of 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you!

(btw you dont have to answer on the spot :3) (btwbtw: LOVE YOUR WORK /POS)

Things that make me happy? I have a lot but if it comes to here I guess I can think of some things.

1: I like it when people reblog my stuff, especially the things that aren't overly popular. Like half of my art that has a shit ton of attention are of the smiling critter things and then I look at my OCs that have... Like 2 reblogs and maybe 4 likes. So I like it when people look my OC art because I worked a lot on those (even the lore bits)

2: I enjoy getting comments and asks about little things about myself, it's fun to write about the things I like.. And maybe getting asks for my OCs? I LOVE WRITING ABOUT THEM PLEASE SOMEONE ASK CECE SOMETHI-

3: I don't know why people use the tags to comment on people's posts when they reblog things but sometimes it can be so funny to see their reaction, and it's unironically the funniest thing. Also some of the messages of the reblogged posts are so funny 💀. The McDonald's Gabriel thingy I did that kinda blew up has so many people being like "yes I'll have (a food from the restaurant)" but yeah. Now I'm kinda just rambling lol.

4: These last two are kinda tricky because these never happened (yet) and I'm sure any artist can relate to the sheer volume of happiness that can suddenly materialize within you, but it's when people comment about my art and how much they love it, I know that I'm good at art it's just sometimes I kinda doubt my ability or get down on myself when things don't get attention but I gotta remember it's the stinky algorithm.

5: For this, I hope one day it'll happen. But I love getting fanart of my OCs, so far it's really only been my small friend group whose been drawing for each other, and even from them I get happy about seeing my OCs in their art styles or just doing stupid shit. Or with their OCs.

But yeah that's pretty much what I can think of.

I don't know how to do the askbox shit so I'll just ping 10 people here and hope I don't explode from doing things wrong, please don't drag me into the shadow realm.

@angelcat123 @aprosin @clownpalette @cameraclown06 @gardensofcanaan @little-miss-impersonator @handhourgalleries @callie-flower @purpletrashsnake @izel-scribbles

(Also this totally isn't a promotion for my mother but guys please follow @handhourgalleries , she's my mom and she's very cool, her art looks so edible I'd eat her art as a late night snack. Do it now/j)

[deputyash]

Izel & Astarion (BG3) | Dove & John (FC5)

Monroe & Molly (RDR2) | Dove & Cooper (FC5)

Tagged by @bg-brainrot @direwombat @derelictheretic and @adelaidedrubman to do this picrew! Thank you!!

Tagging: @teamhawkeye @harmonyowl @purplehairsecretlair @peachyaliien @ri-a-rose @statichvm @shellibisshe @glowwormsmith @wrathfl @blissfulalchemist @jacobseed @wrathfulrook @mel-eficent @cassietrn @shallow-gravy @miss-jennifer-cormier @bardic-inspo (I’m sure a lot of y’all have done it already but just in case! :3)

Also, Cooper belongs to @strafethesesinners :3

[potato-lord-but-not]

once again being annoying in ur ask box bc i have more things to say <3

EVERY TIME I WAKE UP TO YOUR ART I SCREAM AND GIGGLE AND ROLL AROUND IN BED LIKE A SPARROW IN DUST. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. SEEING UR DRAWINGS GIVES ME THE MOST INSANE EUPHORIA, THAT'S LITERALLY ALL I WANT MY ART TO LOOK LIKE EVEN THOUGH MY STYLE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND I SUCK AT CARTOONISH STUFF I WOULD LITERALLY KILL TO BE ABLE TO DRAW LIKE YOU. I SHOW MY IRLS YOUR ART ON A DAILY BASIS. EVERY TIME YOU INTERACT WIT MY POSTS OR ANSWER MY ASKS I EXPLODE INTO A CLOUD OF GLITTER. YOUR DOODLES ARE SO SILLY AND I SWEAR IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN I SEE YOUR POSTS THEY ALWAYS INJECT ME WITH SHEER PRIMAL RABID JOY <3333 I SAW ONE THE OTHER DAY AFTER A 5.6 MILE CROSS COUNTRY PRACTICE WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF A CLIFF BUT HTEN I SAW SILLY HUMAN JOHN AND OSCAR AND IT WAS CURED AND I WAS INSTANTLY REJUVENATED!!!! okay enough all caps my pinky hurts from holding the shift key down. i'm on my hands and knees begging my mother to let me buy better alcohol markers because mine are coughing and wheezing a collective death rattle and they are simply NOT SUFFICIENT to try to attempt ur coloring style. ALSO. our human johns are like literally twins??? giggling kicking my feet the way you draw him is so lovely and precious and gorgeous and stunning and marvelous and perfect and adorable and beautiful 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 he looks so squishable i think he would give the most marvelous back cracking soul healing hugs ever. AND OH MY GOD. MIGHT BE GIVING MYSELF AWAY BUT WHATEVER. YOUR BUTCHER DESIGN RGAHFHSLJDLJ I HAVE NOT BEEN NORMAL ABOUT HIM EVER AND I YAPPED ABOUT HIM TO MY LESBIAN FREIND (SHOWING THEM YOUR ART OF HIM) AND SHE DOESNT GET ITTTTTT HES SO AMAZING I NEED HIM TO TIE ME TO A CHAIR AND RIP MY FINGERNAILS OF(the pipe bomb under my chair goes off)

ahem. anyways. that concludes today's insanity. my sincerest apologies, it will happen again <33333 i think ur art is gonna get me through this school year

asks that heal your ailments and cleanse your soul— I need to tag this as something niche so I can find it again when I’m feeling down and need some encouragement from izel I mean from this random anon <3