#stixit

[sarcoptid]

Collab between me and @lafayelle

[electricb00]

drew this for my friend and they bought me steam games :) my parents would be so proud

[tokidokifish]

so the usps crop top got posted in the discord and... well... (w thanks an apologies to @lafayelle)

bonus: mom said it's anzu'a's turn to get eye candy

[yourshopandsavezone]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Star Wars Jetson Grogu™ Customizable Kick Scooter.

[melosjournal]

Y’llarith and Ashafael’s tension comes to the boiling point, and Temperance decides they need a break -- from both of them.

--

Eversong Woods should not be this cold.

Nestled into a hollow tree, Temperance opens their weary eyes. The sun has barely kissed the horizon, and it’s much too early for them to wake up. Without body heat of their own, their downy feathers do little to protect them from the morning cold. They huddle into their little nest of moss, closing their gembound eyes, praying to an unnamed god for sleep to take them - but it’s day again. They can’t fall back asleep. They rise and stretch their wings and hop out onto a branch, into a lonely, autumnal forest. All the birds are gone. The mere presence of Temperance is enough to chase them away - alongside the critters, the deer, even the lynx. It’s curious that, for the first time ever, the Prince misses their presence. Any presence. Any sign that they’re not truly alone. They wish for a warm body, a hug, a comforting murmur - they wish to fly back into the arms of their lover.

Former lover. Night makes way for day, and the little white bird makes way for a white-haired high elf. They land onto the forest floor with a soft thud. Their selfish mind begins to wander, looking for an out, a reprieve. A sob chokes out in their throat and dies there. Sacerdos was dead. Azerea was gone. They couldn’t bring their shame to the Order, not again. They wouldn’t humiliate themself in front of their friends. Every person Temperance would normally confide in felt so far away, like an invisible barrier had been raised between them. Except…

A mote of warmth linger from the previous evening. The san’layn dips their hand into their back pocket, trembling, pulling out a crumpled up receipt. They stare at it, memorize it over and over again until there’s no chance of forgetting. Then they tuck it away into their nest. Family. Through hunger and bloodshed, their bond had persisted. There was no judgement in their family. They had already seen and felt the worst of each other -- of Temperance. Of…. Y’llarith. They swallow their pride and their sob. Business first. They had a tea party to prepare. Then, perhaps, they would set their sights to Kalimdor. To the Barrens. 

To Stixit.

[abra-ka-dammit]

missed week 3 bc my executive dysfunction dont give a FUCK but for week 4′s team swaperoo themed STVBB19 artfight entry i got my ass in motion, even tho i ended up not going with my original and probably cooler idea bc that was a little outside of my spoon range

i like drawing the OT3 together <3

(July 12, 2019)

[samuraioctopus]

commission of Stix and Drixzy for @dazzle-camouflage

Stix belongs to Dazzle and Drixzy belongs to @spectrerae!

[marxismgoblinism]

originally drawn for week 2 of STVBB2021.

with stixit, pizazz, shazza and anthems.

[vaishino]

Baby Fangs

Scylla rushed, not quite a full sprint but definitely there was urgency in the way she walked. No longer smoothly gliding across the ground like she normally does. Her normal gait has her moving like a sharp knife through fabric, smooth and deliberate, a tool in someone else’s hand. Tonight? She found out one of the hands she’d entrusted herself to had gone missing. Of course she'd do what had to be done to find the Matriarch.

The door to her quarters closed behind her quietly. She hadn't been able to slam a door in years, not without trying. As soon as she was in she set about her business. A roll up tool bag was quickly unfurled and laid out on the bed and she began going through her tools to bring with. Some were actual tools, the lock picks, the tin snips, the drill, the usual housebreaking gear, but the selection of knives, oh, that would be the bulk of the bag.

Opening the closet, Scylla looks over her meager belongings that she brought with her to the estate; a few outfits, and a whole lot of knives. “What do I need…” she asked herself as she thumbed the blade at the top. The first blade. The Knife of the Black Masks. She hasn’t used it in years. It’s still as clean as the day it was placed in her hand and directed toward a throat. It’s there as a lesson. It doesn’t leave the rack.

She picks up a leather strip full of throwing knives. Small and balanced and barbed to make them hard to pull out of a body. A personal favourite, and undoubtedly useful for an agent who can’t quite close the distance with her enemy. She tosses the lot onto the bed.

The magic dagger she bought at the last night market. She’s tested it a few times. It flies straight and comes back as advertised, but she has heeded the warning about using it sparingly. Still, she shrugs and tosses it over to the roll, “you never know when it’ll come in handy.”

The folding blade. Spring-loaded with two blades that pop out from the sides. The idea is to catch a sword as it comes in and you can twist it loose from the attacker’s hands. She lets the blades flick out, and she can’t help but think of Stixit in the fight with the worgen. That was like nothing she’d ever seen before. She wondered what happened to him to make him like… like that. She carefully folds the blades back in and sets the knife back on the rack. This one’s more of a novelty to her than anything else.

She reached for another knife and her charm bracelet caught her eye. She let herself get distracted for a few precious moments, thinking about her. Everything she’d done since leaving government employment, it’s all been because of her. “I wonder what she’d think about what I’ve become. What I’m doing.”

She ran a hand through her hair and let out a hard sigh, pressing her palm against her eye. She took a moment just to exist, feeling the pressure against her face. A grounding sensation to focus on as she moves from the closet and to the washroom. She ran the water, feeling the coolness run over her hands before she splashed it on her face. She leans in and looks at herself in the mirror. She blinked, then pulled her eyelid down to get a good look at her eye. “Still green. No black’s crept in. Good, I can still hold this look for-”

She paused mid sentence, not that anyone would notice with her in here talking to herself. Pulling her lip up, she looked at her teeth. Most notably the two canines that were unmistakably sharper than she remembered. And longer.

“... fangs. Well as if today wasn’t getting any weirder.”

[fishadee]

STVBB2020 art from july 2020 featuring raayne, poe, obasi, salt, drixzy, stixit, valerie, melgeux, and otis

[sarcoptid]

You'll never guess who I'm rooming with

[fancy--tuna]

✧ !!!

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[tokidokifish]

I wish you would write a fic where...anything with the boys ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

alright bet

The warmth of Stix’s little boiler room nest is a delicious relief after days spent in the sky, and apparently Anzu’a’s thighs don’t just look great in tights—they also make a great pillow. He’s also running his fingers through the rat’s nest Stix calls hair, because apparently that’s just a thing that happens, now. His head is on Anzu’a’s lap, and Peaches is curled up on his stomach, resting contentedly, and Stix thinks that probably this is the best that life could be.

At least until Anzu’a opens his mouth, and says, “I need to talk to you.”

Stix freezes, shoulders hunching. Oh, shit. He’d been wondering why a guy as smart, put-together, and brain-meltingly hot as Anzu’a was spending time with him, and apparently Stix’s pushed his luck a little too far. Which makes sense, considering he’d imperiled Anzu’a’s sibling and almost got the man himself eaten by a mirror.

“It’s not bad,” Anzu’a says, like he can hear what Stixit is thinking, or maybe read it on his face.

“Yeah?” Stix squeaks.

“Yeah.” Anzu’a even punctuates the comment by leaning down and giving Stix a kiss, fingers still moving through his hair, which helps a lot. “I just wanted to say that—all that stuff, about you being a pirate and, uh, smuggling?” Stix cringes, bracing himself, at least until Anzu’a finishes up with: “Stix, you don’t have to like… worry, about how I’ll react to that stuff. I don’t care.” 

Stix blinks. “Y’don’t?”

Anzu’a rubs the back of his neck, two-toned eyes flicking away. “I mean in like the abstract, I care in that it’s obviously pretty fucking dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt, but I’m not going to judge you. I like you, Stix—um, a lot. And even if you’ve done or continue to do some less-than-legal shit, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. So.” He shrugs, a faint blush rising in his cheek. “Yeah. You don’t have to worry. You can tell me about it.”

Stix is quiet, for a second, taking all that in. He scrunches up his face. “Like… now?”

“If you want,” Anzu’a replies, “But you don’t have to. You don’t have to tell me ever, if you’d rather not. I’m fine either way. I just wanted you to know.” 

Stix nods. “Okay,” he says, slowly, “I get it. Um.” He runs his fingers over Peaches’ glossy scales, letting the texture ground him. “Thanks, Anzu’a. I’ll remember that.” 

[abra-ka-dammit]

STVBB19 artfight week 2, aka zubert gets wet but it’s with sweat this time

(June 29, 2019)

[samuraioctopus]

bruh

[sarcoptid]

this floated by on my dash and i knew what i had to do

stixit belongs to @lafayelle!