arthurtristankingsmen - Tumblr blog

[arthurtristankingsmen]

He can smile sometimes ^^

[arthurtristankingsmen]

As some of you may know, one of my family members has passed away on the 19 of last month from cancer and i will be one who cover some of the cost. I'm currently broke and beyond heartbroken to do commissions and in physical pain for some others reasons.

Donations would help me and greatly appreciated. ( it will cover the funeral, flowers, my transport etc ) My family has paid for me and demands me to pay them back ASAP. It's roughly 500 left and i currently have unpaid bill that require to be paid asap ( it's my phone and electricity bill )

If any extra were to come through its will be uses for grocery for me and my kitty which we will needs and if i’m more than good I'll sent the money back just sent it to my PayPal as friends / family please and list if it's a donation or commission with a way of contact if you'd like me to get back to you! Thank you in advance for helping, reblogs are just as lovely.

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Updated a few of my character Art References ^^

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Sometimes you just need a friend who infodumps at you while they brush your hair <3

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Some older doodles of Artair I hadn't posted yet! They're a little rough, but he's so fun to draw ^^

[arthurtristankingsmen]

⛈ - Indie Fandomless OC Multi-muse Blog (Main is Artair)

⛈ - 25+ Mun, 9+ years RP Experience

⛈ - Mobile Friendly Directory

⛈ - Semi-selective, Crossover/OC friendly!

⛈- Mostly Short/Para, Icon or Iconless

⛈ - May Contain Dark Themes, Ask to Tag!

[arthurtristankingsmen]

FORGED, for Caelan please!

Glimpses of the Past (Headcanon meme) FORGED: a scene from my muse's past that they think made them stronger in the long run

Power was a word synonymous with his family.

He never knew a moment without it's presence looming over him. His parents lorded it over their vassals and the lower-born of his cousins. It was the unspoken advantage that garnered equal parts respect and fear of his father and mother, the king and queen. It was the whispered words of any who saw his father with a blade, his mother with her hammer and her silver tongue. A force to be reckoned with, it was an aspect of nobility in his court that was never questioned. If you reached a rank to hold council with his family, you had shed blood enough to paint your seat at the table crimson.

It was him, embodied. The black that bled from his eyes and left his hands and feet numb and spiking with pins and needles. The blood in his veins, tarnished and corrupted beyond salvage, and his sightless gaze, stolen by magic so potent it made him a font of destruction nothing compared to. Barely contained, exponential, unquenchable and excruciating power.

He bore his burden with pride, like a good soldier is meant to.

And that was all he was meant to be. A dagger and a spell and the arm of his monarchs, meant to sever those very limbs of any who opposed them. To cut them at the knees until they bowed. He was a weapon, nothing more.

A tool to be wielded, and discarded once the dust returned to the earth.

He remembered them saying he was lucky for the war. For blood to shed in their name with his unyielding, unfeeling strength. The gratitude they wanted him to proffer at their feet for the sentiment was cold and lifeless. Like him. There was nothing about him that wasn't what they had raised him to be, all sharp edges, and overlapping, impenetrable metals. Their sharpest spellblade, wrapped in silks to conceal what monstrous work it was capable of, hidden until it was time to raze their enemies to ash.

He was power to the point it beat through his veins, and he felt nothing.

Maybe the universe thought it the cruelest joke for all of their hubris, for him to tumble down into the darkest depths, with the greatest enemy at his side.

The first few moments made sense, even in a place like that. He was disoriented, blinded beyond what his usual limited sight already was, but he knew his duty. It was without hesitation that his Damascus blade plunged into the enemy prince, a violently precise wrench of steel to his throat that ended him with ferocious practicality.

He did not walk the caverns long, alone. Threads caught on him like gossamer and it was only when spiders' legs pinned his wings and spiders teeth found his own throat, that he realized the dangers they posed. Poison flooded his veins and burned like something real, and for a beat, he felt true fear. He died with it, the power locked in his body worth nothing but another resource for the thing that killed him to sup on.

And then he woke up.

It was still dark, but he knew the place by the way his shoulder ached like he'd fallen all over again. He recognized the identical groan, from the enemy prince. His knife came out again, ready for a repeat despite the confusion. He needed to do something familiar, something tied to his duty and his very existence. He didn't want to remember the paralyzing fear. The blood.

There was no wound, but the feelings of dying still sat like hot needles in his lungs.

The prince stopped him, begged him not to. He only hesitated when the Prince said he'd seen the spider. The fae that had pulled them down. The prince knew what it looked like, and he knew the two of them were nothing more than a meal to it. The prince remembered last time, what little he survived for, and knew that if they were both here, both remembering that, then he doubted either survived. They both could feel how this place brimmed with magic. And maybe, perhaps, it was more constructive, to collaborate.

He promised the enemy prince a knife in the back once this was over. The man grinned, and agreed. The whole exchange left him with another feeling to contend with; Bafflement.

And he continued to baffle. It seemed almost a game to him, the way he'd laugh at their hopeless situation. He was good only for his strength, and here it was nothing, moot. He almost felt more lost inside than he did in the labyrinth of stone tunnels, spun white from spiders' silk he could hardly see, that dampened any echo. What was his worth if he could not survive? He had tried, more than his fair share of times, to fell the spider. And when inevitably he failed from the advantage it had in its home, it learned; it discovered his strengths, and used them against him, or accounted for them, each time it cast whatever it did to reset him and the enemy prince.

If the thing that hunted them slaughtered them for food on repeat, and all his power wasn't enough to escape this place, then he was...lost. What was he, without his strength? All his life was devoted to this one purpose. What was he worth, now that his only purpose seemed to be to serve as a meal?

And here the enemy prince-- Kiran, still found reasons to smile. He was weak, a flirtatious little romeo bound to die with his impulsive antics. He was foolish, carefree, whimsical, and none of his charms or his playful nature saved him when the spider found him. Even if he could admit Kiran did have some skill with a sword, he was still dead.

A useless man, so hoplessly hopeful.

And yet, when compared to an equally useless man with nothing left to define him, wasn't that something?

The night Kiran touched his face, so many deaths later that no sense of time stuck with him, was something... .new. It was a gentle touch, a soft one. He felt that palm crease against his cheek and wipe at streaks of black. The compliments meant nothing, but the hand was warm against his porcelain skin. How could such a small thing shake him so?

He was offered the same action to Kiran, and refused. For a fortnite, he maintained that resistance, before yielding...asking, to do the same. Kiran had smiled, he felt it on his lips when he brushed them. His fingers tingled with it, along the curve of his jaw.

Very symmetrical, was the highest compliment he offered. Kiran seemed to enjoy it. Something about that felt like he was betraying all he knew. And yet it was warm.

The first time Kiran died without him after their truce was....difficult. Anywhere he managed to hide away from the spider was empty, forlorn and so so silent. Kiran, that annoying little man, could do nothing but talk and talk and talk. All he could think in his absence was how silent it was. The light Kiran glittered with gave him some semblance of sight, no matter how minuscule. Being without him was being plunged into nothingness. It was being home, in a way that made his heart shake and shrivel.

He didn't want home. He--- what did he want?

He knew. He knew. He knew and for all his power he didn't have the words to say it.

He fed himself to the spider to see his light again, because Kiran's presence was better than being alone. When Kiran discovered his choice, hearing the spider jeer of his 'giving up', he asked him why, and he still lacked any true answer. Kiran.... gave him something. Something strange and warm and different from anything his life had ever given him. Something that made the sacrifice worth the sorrow.

Kiran behaved as if he had sung sweet nothings in his name, and he's shoved him away at that, but the laughter stuck with him, as did the song of apology Kiran offered. What was it, he was feeling, more and more around this enemy prince that...was not such an enemy? He hated it and yearned for it and hated that he did. But still he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was Kiran's light.

Kiran figured it out, a thousand deaths later, before he did. Hope, he'd called it. A death worth dying for a chance for a better tomorrow. That maybe, the antics gave him something to hold on to, when a maze like this was liable to drain any life that set foot inside.

He didn't agree, said nothing. Kiran's ego hardly needed nursing. Kiran hung on his shoulders as he said it, and whispered it between them. It was warm, a body laying against his back, and he sat still as stone, frown carved to his features unbending. He did not nod, he did nothing, until Kiran slipped off to find food. But he sat there still, even after the light was dim and faded, unmoving.

The pieces were in place. He couldn't look away.

Kiran was....special. Kiran was light. And Kiran was his hope. He knew the word, but didn't know it---felt like this. A space he belonged to, that was not in his family's hand. He was--- powerless, to it. To the warmth. But he yearned for it when it left him. Yearned for that foolish man's joy. It sapped his strength, but it was worth more than he lost. And he.... didn't want to lose it.

How strange. To want something. But Kiran was soft, and he was warm, and it was almost a kinder world down here with him than any other he'd walked through.

He would say he cared for him, perhaps, if he was capable of that. But he was pragmatic. Kiran had value, beyond words, beyond skill.

He was still a weapon, still forged and sharp. But the hand that once cut Kiran down, would--- he would protect him. They would leave together, somehow, or he would deliver Kiran from this place with his final breath.

Caelan had sworn himself to that.

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Magic makes your hair grow longer

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Super rough sketch, but i wanted to do at least a little something for TDoV before it was over!! I'm trans, so I have quite a few characters under the umbrella lol (and tbh this isn't all of them i just decided 6 was enough :'p)

Edit: updated the pic with a colored sketch because I played with it some more ^^;

[arthurtristankingsmen]

THIS MADE ME CRY-LAUGH SO HARD AS A RESPONSE I HOPE YOU KNOW

But the only evil part of you is loving puns so was it a boop pun?

[arthurtristankingsmen]

weeps

I'm Fighting for my Life

[arthurtristankingsmen]

hey meow, I can be evil if i want, mischief lies in the heart of all kittycats and you're the purrfect target >:3c

But the only evil part of you is loving puns so was it a boop pun?

[arthurtristankingsmen]

I'm Fighting for my Life

[arthurtristankingsmen]

WHY

Yall should boop @arthurtristankingsmen >:3

[arthurtristankingsmen]

My booping is so horribly broken, it keeps erroring out, so if I don't boop you I promise I'm hitting you with all of my paws in my heart 😭

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My entire dashboard right now

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Magic makes your hair grow longer