#i will possibly draw something for this if i can escape The Block (of art)

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @velinxi​

Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.

Check out our interview with Velinxi below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.

Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.

What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?

Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.

Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?

If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.

What is your goal for the rest of this year?

Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.

Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!

[onlybeeewrites]

If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe like friends to lovers or something x

The Muse

Requested: By anon

Warnings: nothing just pining

Painting: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Request: If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe friends to lovers or something

Authors Note: I beg for forgiveness that it has taken me so long to get to this. I had insane writers block, then university hit like a truck and had to put writing on hold. But I have returned and I loved this request. I am currently rewatching Brigderton after watching Queen Charlotte so I hope this to your liking. So sorry again, love <3

—————————————————————————————

You had grow up beside the Bridgerton Household your entire life—to the estate beside theirs at least. Your father’s had been quite good friends, and as your parents began with their families the relationship between the two had grown. This has allowed you to have direct access to the household since you could even remember. Your were at the young age of four and twenty, just a few years older than the eldest Bridgerton daughter, but still a few years younger than the second eldest Bridgerton who also just so happened to be your closest companion.

You remembered the first time you had met the boy, or at least remembered meeting him. You were but about six years of age, and Benedict was ten. Your mother had dragged you over to the house as she more often did to have tea with the Viscountess Bridgerton as they did more often than not. It was in their tea room where you were interacting with Colin when Benedict had come in rather excitedly to show his mother a drawing he had made. You could remember her cooing her second eldest son, praising his rather interesting art piece. Curiously you had glanced over, interested with all the paint colors and such. Benedict had noticed your curiosity and offered for you to have a closer look. From then on whenever you had come over you had eagerly awaited to see what Benedict had created next.

This little routine continued as you all got older. Of course after the passing of their Father, there was more comfort and reassurance whenever you had visited. Though, even in a time of such great sorrow, Benedict had portrayed that emotion within his paintings and drawings. You had been the one to support him and aid him in any such way possible.

As time continued, the two of your had grown closer. Of course you had grown closer with all the Bridgerton siblings, Benedict was the one you were closest with. The one you could also scope out at balls if you needed to escape another dreadfully boring dance partner, or an attempted suitor that was twice your age. Of course your father was there to ensure nothing of the sort would occur, but there would be times where Benedict was simply closer and much better at conversation.

Often Lady Whistledown commented on the you both, sometimes a bit too often. There would be whispers about you both, how often you dance with each other at balls or are seen giggling a bit tipsy with each other in the corners. Most of the time it had not bother you—when you were younger at least. Though as you blossomed and grew into yourself, you also were able to recognize your feelings. You believed it was around ten and six when you had realized you were doomed. That you had fallen completely in love with Benedict. It was not something you liked to think about nor dwell on for too long. Why would he, a Bridgerton, a most handsome, talented, funny, charming man like himself even think about courting you?

It was not that you felt like you were unattractive in some sort of way, you were rather pretty. But it was the fact that you were best friends with Benedict that caused you to think this way. There was a chance of him not returning those feelings. There was a chance that he would laugh in your face assuming it was a joke. There was a chance of him scoffing in your face and cutting you and your friendship off completely.

There was no chance that you would even consider taking that risk—no matter how often Daphne or hell, even Elouise would reassure you that he had returned those feelings to you.

Though one afternoon, you sat with him in the Bridgerton’s drawing room. You had been having some tea that Rose had gotten for you while Benedict drew. He drew with his charcoaled that made his long fingers turning an odd shade of black within his drawing pad. You had always admired the way he looked to serious when he drew. His eyebrows furrowed, causing wrinkles to cover his forehead. He also had this habit of tilting his head; you assumed it was to get a different angle on whatever his latest creations was. But your most favorite thing was when he would be stuck on something. Maybe it was because he could not draw it correctly, or the art was not coming out the way he wanted it to. But once he figures it out, or it comes out the way that he had wanted and the ways his eyes lit up with pride and eureka was your absolute favorite.

“what is it you are drawing today?” You asked, lifting the fragile porcelain to your lips as you take a small sip of the warm tea. Your eyes flicker from your cup to the Bridgerton across from you. And just in time too because was already looking at you. His body tensed slightly before he attempted to play it off.

“Nothing you must worry your head about,” he said in a teasing tone, as he most often did. But he was just trying to play it off when in reality it was you. He was drawing you, in your beautiful soft green dress, your hair done up into a neat braid to keep from your beautiful face. You looked stunning and he wanted to capture it like he had done many time before.

It was always you that he drew, especially when you plagued his thoughts in the late. Hours. Oh if you only knew that you were his muse. The very figure and image of you filled pages and pages of his work. Two of the things he loves most wrapped into one. But what if you were to find out? You would never return and that would break his heart. He was so in love with you it ached to not be able to hold you, kiss you when he wanted. He felt this especially at balls and suitors would come up to your constantly, it made his blood boil. But he had hoped he kept it well hidden. Well, enough to keep it from you. His family on the other hand seemed to know or notice it for quite sometime. According to his mother, both of your mother’s knew of it. Everyone seem to know. Everyone but you.

Too busy in his thoughts, he did not feel the dip in the sofa until it was too late. You had seated yourself right next to him with a small huff as you tried to peak at this new creation before he was able to hide it. But he managed, which caused you to pout slightly. Of those lips…he wanted nothing more to cup your face and kiss you right then and there.

“Benedict. You always show me your drawings,” you had insisted, which just caused the other to shake his head.

“Nonsense. There are plenty of work that you have not seen. Besides it is no good anyways, there is no point in showing it off if it is no good.” He said, giving his best friend a look. This only made you want to see more. “you always saw your work is no good and it is always beautiful. Let me see, please?” You pleaded as you took hold of a part of his drawing pad. There was some back and forth, some ‘no’s’ and ‘oh please’ as you both struggled to take proper hold of the pad.

Eventually his hands slipped and lost its grip on the pad, landing it right into your smaller grasp. “ha! I have got it now. Now, let us see what you have been working so hard on,” you tease before looking at the drawing Benedict had been working so hard on. It was a lady, a rather beautiful one. But the longer you looked, the more you realized that this lady in the charcoal had the same features as you. the same face shape, body type, hair—even the little scar that was right on the bridge of your nose that you had gotten as a child. And you face began to redden as you slowly looked towards Benedict. “Are…is this of me?” You ask in wonder, amazement and without a single sound of disgust or hated—this reassures Benedict a bit more at least.

He nods and before he could utter another word, you flip through pages; more drawings of you. “You make me look beautiful..” you say in wonder and this causes Benedict to furrow his eyebrows once more but not in concentration but confusion.

“Because you are beautiful. I draw what I see and what I see from you is…” he stopped himself from speaking another word, too afraid to come across as too forward. He took a breath, figuring now is a better time than ever. The Bridgerton boy took the drawing pad from your hands and placed it next to him before giving you his full attention. Your face is covered with blush, flustered from this whole thing.

“I suppose now I must explain myself before it comes across strangely. But I do draw you. More times than not because you plague my every waking moment, you have since we were children. You have captured my heart from years and you have refused to return it to me. My dearest friend…..my feelings for you grow into one where I want you by my side forever, not just in my drawings. You are my muse for everything I do and I cannot bear it being another nor you being with anyone else..” he said, “So I suppose-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and giving him a kiss. Your soft ones pressed against his own. It was bold and improper. But his words were moving and your heart would not stop its fluttering. So you had kissed him, hoping no one would see. The kiss was everything you both had imagined it would be like and more.

So once you had pulled away to his surprised but smug reaction, you simply nodded, “Of course, it would be delighted to court you, my dearest. I have been waiting so long for this moment.” You say, still almost not believing that your love was also your best friend.

“I suppose we both were a bit too blind and afraid to admit it, hm?” He chuckled, taking your hands in his, getting a bit of the charcoal onto your hands. You giggle and nod,

“Yes I suppose so. But I also would love to see these other drawings of me that you have mentioned,” you teased him, now making it his turn to blush as he realized what he had admitted.

“Perhaps another time…?” He asked hopefully and you grin mischievously, almost impishly.

“Or perhaps we can give you something else to draw,” you said suggestively continuing to tease him about such thing.

“Oh I quite like the sound of that,” Benedict grinned as he pulled you in for another quick kiss. Perhaps it was a good thing you had seen the drawings after all.

[ask-dare-my-bbieal-au]

hi hello! uhh new ask blog this is new i’m new to this help me hidjdjjskd

main: @churrothezanyrabbit (mostly active-ish there)

i have a discord, feel free to ask for it in messages!

for this blog, and especially due to me being new, asks won’t be answered right away at the beginning, and may take some time, so please be patient with me! (i’m begging for my autistic ass cuz i’ll get stressed out 😭🙏)

rules/dni’s for this blog!!

dni!!

basic dni, y’know, the obvious

dni if you are ableist, homophobic/transphobic, pedophile/pedo supporter, incest-liker/incest supporter, and y’know just the basics just DON’T BE A FUCKING JERK, and no fetish shit ew/lh

—

rules!!

don’t send nsfw asks (dirty jokes are fine, just don’t make them too explicit)

magic anons are allowed just don’t do weird shit like turning a kid into an adult just so you can like them (bc if you like a child character, example being suzy[aka playtime], you’re getting mcfucking BLOCKED YOU WEIRDO), otherwise typical normal (i use that term lightly) magic asks are fine

for the love of dr reflex don’t do any m!preg asks bc to me that counts as an nsfw ask and i will not do it

no fetish art i’m not doing that it’s a nono for me (doesn’t count as nsfw, like what you want as long as it isn’t illegal but don’t bring it to me please/lh)

—

things i WILL do!

draw (obv, possibly commissions but it depends)

post randomly bc i’m weird like that or im just bored

draw blood/gore/etc (but if it’s heavy i’ll prob censor it, bc ofc, people have triggers and i don’t want to disrespect them, tho if it’s light or whatever i’ll post it)

constantly give new headcanons to the characters (i’m autistic let me do my thing and you do yours without being a dick)

have sporadic on-and-off moments (as in i might not post for a hot while and then have this sudden spur of posting stuff quickly)

attempt to draw oc’s and such (as long as they’re not complicated)

draw other baldi’s OF COURSE :D (as long as they’re not problematic or too hard to draw 🥲🙏)

—

things i WON’T do!

draw nsfw (obv)

post uncensored heavy gore

have any minor (y’know, like kid) characters do anything normal wear anything even remotely sexual in any way shape or form

accept asks relating to any political stuff or anything in the irl world (this world is purely fictional, and this is partly comfort for me to escape reality, so please don’t 🫶)

NO M!PREG I’M STATING IT TWICE

ship oc x canon/draw it (sorry it is just weird to me a little bit, ofc i have no problem with it but i don’t want it on this blog, respectfully! however i’ll be willing to draw said oc :3 …if it isn’t complicated 🥲)

interact with problematic content/au’s/other stuff (and if there is any other stuff that is problematic please let me know asap cuz i don’t want to support problematic creators!)

—

reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

—

my version of baldi is shipped with my partner’s version of baldi, who is named harris. if you are interested in princibaldi, baldiflex, or princibaldiflex or whatever else you ship then, don’t come to this blog, please. if anything, i’ll be posting it on my main, which is up there! i like those 3 ships, ofc, but i won’t be doing them here./lh

i will not stand for negativity and hate towards this blog, and if you send me an ask directed with hate towards me and/or my versions of the characters anonymously, i will not be answering you. if you don’t like it, get out and block me or something because i’m not taking shit from nobody.

i use tone tags! (please use them back i’m begging)

finally, take the boye!!

the polymorph who is indeed only 4’11”….. (will give other info later)

Phineas King Baldimore!

(he/they)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

hi fellow bsd enthusiast ? in the most respectful way possible because i don't know how to start this normally

would you like to help an artist out of an art block? just a small personal project.

if so, what flowers do you consider most suitable for your favorite bsd characters?

based on your own preferences. for example: flower symbolism, colors, scenarios you've been thinking about , or from said character's backstory ( or general development ).

though i'd like you to explain if it's a little complicated so i can capture it accurately.

if i manage to finish it, i'll be sure to give credit.

if you're ok with it, thank you. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this ask.

Hello hello! I'd love to help if I can!

Ahaha you know anon I regularly check out flower meanings and stuff like that so this was really fun. I did a selection of characters for you to pick and choose from if you'd like (ones who are on the brain right now) but if this list doesn't include a character you really love and want to draw, then please leave a comment here or send another ask and I'll pick a flower for that character too!

I'm using a mix of hanakotoba and western meanings here.

Yosano - Red Spider Lily (death, abandonment, never to meet again, but can also be a sign that celebration will soon occur - Yosano is drawn with these flowers on the cover of the volume containing her backstory... the number has escaped me sorry. You could also give her the Red Poppy for the wartime connotation if you want extra pain.)

Aya - Black Eyed Susan (the flower of justice! also it's bright and cheery and I thought they suited her)

Wells - Begonia (they are a sign to take caution or warning, much like Wells is a similar sign - they are also associated with deep thought, something that suits her intellectual nature)

Atsushi - Hibiscus (there's a lot I could do for Atsushi but I like this one - these flowers represent a person who is gentle, welcoming and friendly, which reminded me of the way he is usually the one to reach out to people who remind him of his younger self and "welcome" them into a new chapter of their lives)

Kyouka - Violet (I am unsure what the flowers are in her hair exactly, and while Kyouka loves hydrangeas the meaning doesn't apply to her - I picked violets as they mean honesty, watchfulness and loyalty, things that apply to her quite well, but also because the Japanese word for violet is "sumire"... which is the same name as her seiyuu :D)

Akutagawa - Hydrangea (oof this was a hard one. These flowers have wildly contrasting meanings, ranging from pride, to gratitude for being understood, to a cold person. All of which I feel represents him fairly well. Their flowers can also change colour depending on the pH of the soil in which they were planted - something that calls to mind Akutagawa's differing paths in canon vs beast depending on where he was "planted".)

Higuchi - Yellow Tulip (one-sided love. rip girl. can also mean sunshine-smile and a trustworthy person though so it's still sweet and suits her character.)

Mushitarou - Aloe (Associated with grief and affection, but outwardly it looks spiky and rather unfriendly (well I suppose. I think aloe plants are cute personally). Has a nice green colour and is cultivated and used for all sorts of practical purposes, much like Mushitarou is constantly being captured and sought after for the use of his ability. Sorry lol)

Jouno - Dahlia (another tricky one... dahlias can have negative meanings such as dishonesty and instability, but largely the positive ones overtake that - being symbols of positive change, dignity, and inner strength. They can also symbolize having good taste, something I'm sure he believes he has, at least over Tecchou lol)

Chuuya - Peach Blossom (I could've gone the official skk route and said red camellia... but I like the meaning of momohana much better for Chuuya, and it's also the flower people send to the real poet's museum - I believe he liked them. They represent the transience of life and the importance of every moment. They begin to grow in winter and bloom in the spring - symbolizing the transition from hardship to growth. They are also apparently considered somewhat protective against evil spirits, which fits well into his role as protector)

Teruko - Larkspur (symbolizes commitment to responsibility and duty, as well as pride and the capacity to face challenges directly. They can also be used to symbolize youth as well as remembrance - which I think captures that age ability she has. Once we learn more about her I might be able to find a better flower, but I wanted this to go by what we know so far, not my own headcanons about her for which I have several).

Nikolai - Strelitzia (Meaning joy, freedom and immortality, also known as the Bird of Paradise flower. It's a very striking and unusual looking flower that I'm sure Nikolai would enjoy. I had wanted to give him a flower that's important symbolically in Ukraine, but I didn't feel the meanings of the ones I found made a lot of sense... unless you'd like to get ironic with it and give him the Mallow, which symbolizes love and attachment for family, homeland and potentially a lover - like the way he has yet to fully break free from these tethers, hard as he tries)

I have images for reference here and here. I hope this helps!

[shallyne]

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 4

CHAPTER FOUUUUUUR! YAY!!! All chapters on A03

Words: 1.6k

TW: signs of a panic attack, death, implied murder

July 19th

It's barely daybreak and we already got bad news. Mom had a stroke last night, so severe that she's now in a coma. I tried talking to Nesta but she didn't reply and just left, Elain still seems in shock. I don't know how I feel, it all just seems going downward right now and there is no way to stop it. Is it possible to feel nothing about mom's stroke? Maybe I am in shock but I don't feel like I am in shock, I just, I feel nothing. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe it does, maybe I am a bad person but if I am a bad person, then mom is a bad person, too.

I'm trying not to think too much about it, Elain and Nesta are more important right now because they do feel something, and I want to make sure that they know I am there for them if they want to talk. I doubt they will but it's always nice to know that there is someone, right?

Also, should we tell dad? Should we tell him soon or wait for some news? He's going to be devastated, like we were when we lost everything because of his antics.

I shouldn't go down this route right now, maybe another time.

Well, I guess it's time now to get ready for school, maybe Rhys will distact me from this shitshow my family is right now.

July 20th

Rhys told me today that he needs to talk to me soon about something important, whenever I have time. I only have time next Saturday and he was okay with meeting in the little park close to school then, so it can't be urgent.

OMG, maybe he's asking me on a date? That MUST be it!! I don't know how I am just thinking about it. Maybe I can borrow a dress from Nesta for Saturday and wear a little makeup. I don't know much about makeup, maybe Elain can help me. This is so exciting. FINALLY!! I'm totally saying yes but not instantly, he took long enough to ask me on a date.

I'll let my hair open, I know he likes it. I did it once and he told me I looked pretty, so that's a given. I also have this perfume I'm only wearing for special occasions, I'll use that, too.

Maybe I can get some details about it in the following week.

This is the best day of my life!!!!

Also, Ianthe has been a bitch to me. Rhys had told me she kept flirting with him after he rejected her a bajillion times and I told her to go away after she tried AGAIN. Unbelievable, right?

Such a shame she smashed her hand in her locker door in the PE changing room where no one could see us her.

I hope it heals just fine, would be sad if it didn't.

July 21st

I'm trying to draw and I just can't. Everytime I try I'm staring at a blank canvas, which is just as blank as my mind. I thought the maybe-date with Rhys would inspire me at least a little but it's impossible. I have a creative block. Even thinking about picking up a pencil or a brush takes all my energy, I never felt this way about painting. Painting was always my escape, I was always good at expressing any feeling through art. Now, I just get angry. I want to take the canvas and throw it away. I like having this diary but it's not the same as painting, I can't express myself in words like I do in sketches and paintings, or even scribbles. That part of me just feels empty now, like someone stole all the colors, all lights and feelings and shapes. It's a void.

Elain looked at my canvas and told me to give it a few days, maybe she's right. It's a stressful time for us all. We will get through this and then we go back to our normal lives because everything will be okay.

I'm trying to tell myself that at least, like Elain does, but there is always a little voice in my head that doubts any happiness will come our way.

The feeling of impending doom is still there, gripping me everyday, reminding me that all is not okay. Maybe it's just a puberty thing, I'm sure Nesta and Elain went through the same thing. I wouldn't know, talking about feelings in the Archeron household is like eating a steak as a vegan. You don't do it.

July 26th

Rhys is dead to me.

He and his stupid father don't exist anymore, not in my world. They are dead. DEAD.

Rhys hadn't invited me to ask me on a date, I didn't get ready, borrowed Nesta's dress, let Elain do my makeup, use my good perfume, because he wanted to ask me on a date. No, he invited me to tell me that he is the reason for ruining my life. My whole family's life. That we have NOTHING! Okay fine, it's his father's fault but what's the difference? I AM SO ANGRY. He just moved here to ruin my father's business because of some stupid deal my father broke. Speaking of father, my father is just as dead to me. He can rot in hell, I hope he rots in prison. My sister's are suffering because of HIM. Because of his decisions, because of Rhysand's family. I hate my father, I hate Rhysand's father, I hate Rhysand.

I must have looked just as distraught as I feel because Nesta knew instantly that something happened when I came home. I told her everything, her and Elain, and she is seething.

I can't believe I fell for Rhysand, I can't believe I fell for a fucking lie.

I'm just so angry I can barely breathe. I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe.

How am I supposed to see Rhysand everyday at school and not scream at him, at the unfairness of it all. How can I ever look at myself, live with myself, for falling foe his tricks to get close to me like a fool.

It was all a lie.

Dad's business was a lie.

Our life was a lie.

Rhysand was a big fucking lie.

I can't breathe.

July 31st

I'm sitting in a train.

The last twenty-four hours five days felt like a bad nightmare, one I just want to wake up from. But it's not a nightmare, is it? It's real.

Mom is dead. They said it was the stroke. Rhysand said it wasn't. I don't know why I believe him but he looked genuine. Maybe I am a fool for trusting him in this but Nesta seems to believe him, too.

Ruining my father's business wasn't the last of Rhysand's father's plans for my father. My father ruined a big deal, now Rhysand's father ruins his life. Meaning that he sends out his men to kill the people my father loves. Which includes my mother. And his daughters.

I think this is how shock feels, feeling like an empty shell. Every movement feels robotic, only muscle memory making me move.

Nesta told me that Rhysand's brothers knocked like crazy on the front door, the tall one was even short of breaking the freaking door down, to warn them about the threat on their lives. Meanwhile Rhysand dragged me out of that diner, kicking and screaming. I didn't want to listen, I didn't want to touch him, but he didn't budge. He brought me to my sisters. Telling me the plan.

The plan to send us away, to a friend who can help us. I think his name was Jurian. We are traveling to him now, he lives in a little city near Austin.

After that we won't be the Archeron’s anymore, we will live under another name, in a city far away.

I don't even know why Rhysand helped us, why would he care. He used me as a pawn for his father and now he helps us running away? I know that he said he never used me but the timing of befriending me seemed convenient. He also said he wouldn't track us after we got our new identities in Austin, but I don't know if I believe him. Maybe his friend will rat us out.

I made a promise to myself when we entered the train station this morning. I promised to keep Nesta and Elain safe, whatever it takes. They used me, they got my mom but they won't get my sister's.

Also, dear diary, this will be my last entry. Nesta wanted me to burn my diary, so it couldn't be tracked to us, but we compromised and I would keep it hidden wherever we end up. Never touch it again.

It was nice to have you as a silent companion as long as it lasted.

Bye

Excerpt from a group chat between Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel

Azriel: They just left Jurian’s house.

Cassian: so, that's it?

Morrigan: no contact anymore, it's to keep them safe, Cassian

Cassian: I know but how sure can we be that Aamon’s men won't track them down?

Rhysand: they won't

Cassian: but can we be SURE

Azriel: yes

Morrigan: Rhys, have you told Feyre?

Rhysand: no, it wasn't the time

Morrigan: there will never be the perfect time to tell someone you love them but it was your last chance

Rhysand: I know

Cassian: maybe it won't be forever

Rhysand: maybe

Morrigan: maybe

Azriel: maybe

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[thediktatortot]

I am so unsure how to continue with my art.

It's so hard for me to draw no a days with how little energy I have that the art style I currently use is basically unachievable because I lose steam so quickly on any and every piece I do.

I want to learn a simpler style, or maybe even just a more anime looking style but for some reason I can't get myself to figure it out? It's like, I see styles that are around the place where I would like to get myself too as far as simplicity of design, but no matter how much I try, it just doesn't fucking look right.

It's like there's this big fucking mental block on drawing things with as much realism as I can, that anything less than realism doesn't look good in my head or to my eyes.

I don't know what to do. I can't possibly keep up the level of drawing skill I can't have but I can't seem to get off this fucking train to keep moving forward. It's like I feel stunted somehow, without escape and no ability to get out of it.

I want to practice more but I'm not really sure how to go about it. I can draw the human body, I can draw hair and objects well, but why can't I draw them simpler?

I'm so exhausted that even sketching something in a simple style leads me to frustration.

[sketching-shark]

Bangs head on my desk. Its sooooo fucking hard I have literally most of the LMK fandom blocked and I still can’t fucking escape that mid ass pairing I want to explode. Honest to god it sucks because I actually like analyzing LEMH and Sun wukong’s dynamic when it comes to the original story and like the idea of a character trying so hard to be this other person they just fundamentally erase any aspect of who they could be. That shit is interesting (especially if you interpret the two as actual family bc there’s a level of. Tragedy there) but NOOO mfs wanna focus on shipping clones/siblings together instead and painfully writing both characters ooc instead of just making an oc good fucking god. ( that being said I really like the art you draw of LEMH. It’s really cool. Keep up the good work 👍🏾👍🏾👍🏾)

fregarewargtfds I once saw someone describe the LEMH & SWK ship as jttw retellings's reylo and. hm. yeah.

BUT YEAH YEAH YEAH to this day one of the things I find most baffling about the western monkie kid & jttw fandom is this widespread refusal to even recognize LEMH's actions in the og classic. Because it's like: here we have what could very well be one of literature's first instances of the "evil twin" trope and it's being done SPECIFICALLY in a way to create the maximum amount of conflict and uncertainty for SWK!

Because on one hand the false monkey of the true and false monkey king arc is essentially the very embodiment of everything that SWK ever wanted; LEMH, in copying SWK so completely, does it in such a way where he gets to be both a yaoguai warlord with a loving family AND a holy pilgrim bound for glory at the exact same time, whereas SWK is constantly being forced to choose between the two! But LEMH's also doing it in the worst way possible! He beats Tang Sanzang into unconsciousness, steals their stuff for his own use, and in so doing drives a serious rift between SWK and the pilgrims!

He clearly doesn't give af about the Mt. Huaguoshan monkeys outside of how they can serve as his personal tools to fulfill his own aims! He just wants them to use their own powers of transformation so that they can serve as his own obedient group of pilgrims! He even eats one of them as part of a merry feast he throws for himself after a violent encounter with Sha Wujing, and immediately has that monkey replaced with another! And he's doing ALL of this wearing SWK's face and adapting SWK's mannerisms! EVERYONE thinks that it's SWK doing these things! It's like LEMH's very existence is throwing it in SWK's face how this horrible version of himself is closer to achieving ALL of SWK's desires than SWK ever was, and that no matter how much SWK tries to change for the better even the two sides of his beloved family automatically think even this version which would inflict such violence on them is the "true" him! No wonder SWK hated him so much!

And AUGH the possibility of LEMH either being a manifestation of SWK's worst impulses or of being his brother just ramps the tragedy and horror of this situation even more! Like if it was part of SWK inflicting all this pain on the people SWK loves most, well there is truly something messed up about this situation where even if it's not technically "you" going along with your worst impulses they will still hurt people! Could you ever trust yourself again? Should you? How much of the blame for this situation lies with you? And can it be enough to fully acknowledge you have violent impulses but don't act on them?

And yes @the-bitter-ocean even in interpretations where LEMH is some random yaoguai who decides to commit identity fraud the story from his point of view of him throwing away his identity so completely that there's basically nothing left of him is just...goddamn. In his ambition he literally reduced himself to one part of SWK's story, just one more obstacle for the Monkey King to overcome.

And SCREAM if LEMH was SWK's brother? Imagine this situation where for SWK he's confronted by what is essentially the culmination of his failures to protect his family, where his beloved brother (I'm saying beloved because SWK loved all members of his monkey family very much) ended up despising SWK so much that he has essentially destroyed everything that he was or could have been in his bid to be the "real" monkey king and bring glory back to that name, but does so in the worst way possible to the point where SWK feels he has to take down LEMH himself. And then for LEMH, you can see how love and admiration for his brother would be twisted into resentment, envy, obsession, and hatred due to the series of atrocities the Mt. Huaguoshan simians faced in large part as a consequence of SWK's challenge to the heavens and his own sense of entitlement, so that eventually he convinced himself he would be a more "true" monkey king than the monkey king himself, and thus completely discarded his own identity to take on that of his brother, and in doing so basically tossed his own morals given how his "version" of the monkey king cares for no one but himself.

Sorry for the rant! But all the pieces for a whole series of interesting tragedies are! Already! Right! There!!!!! Why are we all so hellbent on ignoring/rewriting them!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

[koyato]

Random moment with our (@komorebi-art-blog hi!) Fun Oc's for Komo's future AU!

Lore under the cut!

Two mercenary named Desen and Abber Tet

Posts about Tet in Komo blog (please read it if you interested):

Part 1

part 2:

So I'll introduce Desen!

Or rather his name is Varisht jai Shikaari. One of oldest kids in clan and talented single hunter. And that's all... in fact, he is just an average Kaleesh without any really significant features. Especially in comparison with his siblings and his parents, he is just a gray mouse. And that suited him, his job in the clan was not to be a great warrior or something like that, but to help others. Help his older brother Izvoshra prepare for flights. Bringing food home in times of hunger. Babysitting younger children... this was the case at least before the... Explosion

Clan jai was held hostage in Geonosis, and our Headcanons that after all this their memory was erased or blocked by chemicals, while such experiments were carried out. But Shikaari remembered all this... he saw more than others and this memory traumatized him so well that chemicals can't really wipe it all. He saw his dad last escape. When he managed to get out of the bactacam, hoping to commit suicide by throwing himself into outer space. After this moment, son realized that his father had died after all, and what happened next no longer had his soul.

Shikaari left Kalee as soon as possible, left his family and life to go into galaxy he know almost nothing. To bury his moving parody of a loved one.

So this is how he stuck for years and years into unknown world with unknown laws and creatures trying to not lose his mind, maybe even find it... find his place too, accept everything that happened, and even get a friend with kinda same path too~

IT'S ONLY ONE PART I SWEAR THIS IS NOT ALL, JUST FIRST MEETING WITH CHARACTERS! I will draw this more

(He based on this old Abel comment about possibility that Grievous child can be one of crew who kill Necrosis)

[first-mistake-forever-more]

how do u get out of a hole if u have no inspiration¿ u may hav answered this before nd i justdidnt see it idk

hey gringly sorry i didnt respond to this earlier I wrote out a response like two Weeks ago & shut down my laptop without posting it this post mit b a tiny bit controversial but I;ll talk from personal experience i think having no inspiration normally actually means either being distracted(which is fine)or you not wanting to deal with the Pain that comes with creation(most of us are vry pain averse) i say this because both happen to me sometimes A lot of times I dont want 2 draw or whtvr because I dread the process of plugging everything in and starting the software just for the ideas that come in to suck a lil and just really end up not feeling very good about my abilities or creativity(this is pain) But usually the only time that actual creative ideas can flow freely is when youre actually there trying to channel them

at the moments in which ur in tune with this creative part of your mind, ideas will always come and go even when you're not creating(rfor example taking a shower is one of these moments for most ppl ), but if you don't get to these points often then you have to put in the effort to get your brain to the point in which it is thinking about these artistic solutions and concepts, and you get there by creating.. & yr first idea will probably suck so Bad Lol but then you'll be free to start channeling other ideas it's possible that no good ideas come & this can be for a lot of reasons but probbaly bc youre still finding your own specific voice & dont completely know what u want to be creating or just bc yr tired So what I'm trying to say is that you should probably try making music or art even when you're not inspired because,first of all you will most likely always learn Something, and because you'll most likely get inspired while creating also You NEED to deal with your ideas bc letting ideas fester & marinate in your mind blocks new ideas from coming in, and then you lose those original ideas because you didn't put them out anywhere, so you just feel really bad, So it's important that you try to work even when "not inspired" Art can be painful and u have to learn to deal w this pain instead of constantly escaping it I think if we constantly try to avoid this pain this can actually be detrimental to us in th long run. (tw opinion)i observeThere's a big culture of self care in this regard that I don't completely vibe with(at least not as a professional, I'm sure it has helped a lot of other people). I think it makes people weaker against struggles of the real creative process oh & I'd like to state that this is just how I deal with art personally as a professional. it might not be what's best for you if you dont actually Need to b creating art to survive(sorry) but it is good i think if yr an artist to experience this constant need to put something out into the world even if ur not interested in Like turning art into your paycheck haha ty for the ask

[thoradvice]

Hi! Is it okay if I can request a positivity post for people who struggle with ptsd? ;-; I keep having flashbacks and I am constantly dealing with multiple triggers 24/7 for the last few months now and I’m so scared that I’ll never get better. I only get a few hours of sleep every night because I’m so anxious and on “high alert” all the time, I’m jolting awake gasping and then I can’t fall back asleep. I’m shaking everyday because my brain is always like “look out for the danger!” And I’m unfortunately in a position where I am unable to avoid my multiple triggers (certain clothes, certain colors), and the person who gave me this ptsd is someone I accidentally see online at least once a week, even though I’ve blocked them, they are a very popular fandom blog and they frequently buy commissions of themself… like maybe 15 to 20 commissions per month from all different kinds of artists. So I’m always seeing my abuser’s commissions, visual images of them floating around everywhere I go :( I tried taking time off of tumblr for 8 months, but my ptsd didn’t improve, I just felt lonely and I really missed uploading my own artwork ;-; but now I’ve stopped drawing entirely because I don’t find joy in drawing anymore.

I am surrounded by these reminders of what happened to me, and my only hope is to someday reclaim the triggers and to see them as normal things again, but I don’t know if that’s possible when I feel so incredibly broken and I see my abuser so often. I’ve never had to deal with this kind of thing before. I wish someone would sit with me and tell me everything will be okay, even if it might not be true. I went through all of it completely alone for a full year, and now I feel so numb to anything around me. Going to movies, restaurants, concerts, all of it feels so empty to me. I’m sorry for the vent, you don’t have to reply to this if you don’t want to ;-;

hi there, sweetheart !! first off, i'm so sorry that you're struggling so hard right now, and that you can't seem to escape anything that's making life so much harder. i have never personally dealt with ptsd in that sense, but i do have an ample amount of trauma, and you have my every sympathy.

i'm going to split your ask up into a few parts, if that's okay. i completely understand the fear of never getting better. dealing with so much mental anguish for so long is a trauma in of itself, and i'm so sorry. please know that there is a "better" for everyone. everyone's looks different, and comparing yourself to others who recovered quicker, or more easily won't help - because your situations are always going to be different. but there /is/ a better for you, and anybody else reading this. it'll take time, and will happen slowly, but you'll get there. i also really struggle with sleep, because of intense anxiety / nightmares. there are a number of OTC medications that you can try, have you? i know it sounds silly, if you're struggling so much, but sometimes simple answers help the most. i'm not sure where you are, but if you're in europe, you can order melatonin from the us, and of course in the us it is OTC. there's also a number of medicated syrups (nytol / night nurse / etc). melatonin can occasionally create nightmares, so please be sure to start on a tiny dose. if you have already tried these, speaking to a doctor may really help. i completely understand not wanting to bring up your ptsd, but there are ways to build up to it - including merely mentioning sleep issues first, and building a rapport with the doctor over a few weeks / months. sleep is so key, and getting something that helps you get rest will be instrumental !!

i'm so sorry your abuser is so popular. that's such a uniquely awful pain that i cannot even begin to imagine. is it possible for you to blog them, and the people creating art of them? it'd probably take a while, and be a bit taxing at first, but eventually you may see that your dash has less and less of them. i understand losing joy in the things that you love. it'll take a while to find the joy again, but this is something i have also experienced, and things will make you happy again. i don't feel equipped to advise on managing triggers surrounding things you love. but it may be worth trying to sketch something small and unrelated to fandom. is there a pretty tree you can see from your window? a cool house down the street? a cat lounging around? perhaps taking art away from the online space and the person who hurt you may make it feel more "yours" again. i'm so sorry that you've been going at this alone. no one ever deserves that. i don't know you, but i'm sitting with you right now, telling you it's going to be okay. there is more to life than this pain you're feeling right now, and there always will be. you will find joy in the things you loved again. you will be able to exist without reminders from your abuser, or if they happen, you will be equipped to deal with that. you will build a network of people to lean on, and that love you, and will be there for you. you deserve more than the hand you were dealt, and i hope you get that someday. emotional numbness is perhaps one of the most taxing things to deal with, but please know that this grey won't last forever. colour will bloom into your life again. there is more than this, and you deserve more than this. i am here with you, and you'll get through this.

[xenonmalachite]

TW: (alien) blood

image under cut. putting image ID up here so you know what is going on and you can decide for yourself if you wanna see. there’s also a short story under the cut. not gonna say much else about it other than I'm not dead and i am just in assignment purgatory rn. but this is a good thing that’s gotten me from my art block so i hope you enjoy [image ID:

a drawing of the artist’s rendition of Crosshairs holding his hands up with a soft but slightly confused look on his face in a scrapyard. a scar on his face is dripping energon/blood. the artist’s oc, Truss, stands in the panel below in the same scrapyard from a different angle and wields a wrench. she’s crying, scared.

dialogue reads as follows Crosshairs: hey. hey. easy, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt ya Truss: STAY THE HELL BACK! End ID]

Scouting was Bumblebee's job, however, given a new hideout, it had to be shared to see if it would be eligible as a resourceful and safe base. Crosshairs hated that responsibility with a passion, but Loco Motion, his Conjunx, gave him a nudge to just do it this once and he can stay by and guard next time if this place didn’t work out. He obliged with a huff. He was tasked with the east area. There seemed to be a lot of used and dead technology in that area. Perfect. If the place worked out then there was his escape. Blend in amongst the tech and everyone will stay out of your way.

It wasn’t until mid afternoon did he catch something unusual. At first it was a clicking sound. He assumed at first it was rats or bugs and thought about asking Cade to hire an exterminator. But then... was that the sound of a music box? Crosshairs never believed in ghosts, so there was one explanation. Someone was there. He was on high alert when the music stopped. He stepped closer to the source to investigate so he knew what to tell the others.

One more twist he didn’t expect... was a youngling cybertronian. She was close to about 11-12 if she were a human. She wasn’t at an age where she could transform, not on her own at least. Crosshairs didn’t have time to fully process what was going on when she spotted him. She grabbed a drill and aimed it. She pulled the trigger and the drill bit fired from it. Cross was very unlucky in that it hit him, close to the optic. He let out a yelp and stumbled back in surprise

He wiped the energon bleeding from the drill bit hitting him as he got a few seconds to ponder the situation. There’s a youngling here with 1 of 2 options. 1, She was with an adult and that adult would be coming back. or 2, The youngling was by herself.

The youngling fiddled for a weapon, being “out of ammo”. She started to cry in panic, but was more focused on finding a weapon then sobbing. Cross piped up with a comment “You’ve got an aim on ya, I'll tell ya that” He said.

The youngling then let out as much of a roar as she could as she lifted up a massive wrench, wielding it like a battle axe. She started to swing at him. Crosshairs jumped back in surprise, hands up in surrender. He saw her panic and fear. She didn’t hesitate to attack. He took a better look at the area and made a chilling discovery, at least to him. There was no evidence of an adult around.  “Hey. Hey. Easy, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt ya” He told her, softening his voice before she took another swing at him again.

Then she spoke “STAY THE HELL BACK!” She shouted. There was a slight accent to the Cybertronian reverberations in her voice. While she spoke English, there was still the undertones and reverberations from her voice that communicated a possible origin. And hers were from Caminus. She’s too far from home. “Get back!” She growled in warning.

“I'm not going to hurt you” Cross repeated. “I want to help you”. This wasn’t like him but this kid seemed to be afraid for her life... or something. If she was afraid of something, it’s likely she may have encountered the TRF. And a kid being face to face with a TRF solider didn’t sit right with him.

The youngling threw the wrench which he caught. She froze before running behind a pile of junk and hiding. Cross sighed. He turned his back to the pile and sat down, taking out a small medical kit to treat his wound. 

The young cybertronian walked out of hiding slowly. Cross still kept his back to her, not wanting to scare her. It must have been a long time since she’s seen a grown up. She sat down with her back to him too, seeing he was not a threat.

“Where did you get that drill?” He asked her

“I made it.” She answered

“Made it? You mean you rigged up a drill to act as a gun? That’s incredible! Genius even! You’re talented. I'll give you that.” Cross told her with a smile, trying to appear not threatening. “Your parents teach you to do that?”

The youngling shook her head “No. I don’t have parents” 

“Don’t have parents? What do you mean? Are they... with the Allspark? Did they leave you here?” Cross started asking

“I don’t know” The youngling shrugged. “I don’t remember my parents or how I got here. All I know is is woke up here and I live here now...Unless you want me to go?”

“No. Please stay.” Crosshairs told her, slowly moving to face her. “It’s too dangerous out there for you. You could stay with me and my team. I'm sure my conjunx wouldn’t mind having you around”

the youngling just shrugged in response with “Okay. I'll stay”. She shifted herself so she and Cross sat next to each other instead

There was a silence between them for a brief moment before Crosshairs asked “Do you remember anything about yourself at all?”

“I remember I like trains and fixing things. I like seeing how things work.” She responded “I also know my name” 

“What is your name?” Crosshairs asked her

“Truss” She responded.

“Crosshairs” Cross responded, introducing himself, holding onto his goggles and dipping his head as if tipping a hat. It managed to bring a giggle out of Truss.

“You’re not wearing a hat.” Truss smiled, starting to feel safe. 

Cross chuckled “No. But sometimes it’s fun to pretend. Slip out of reality for a bit. It never hurt anyone” 

Truss stretched and laid down on her back, which Cross followed. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been here, Truss?” Crosshairs asked. 

Truss shook her head “No. I've never left here. I like it here. so much stuff. I never get bored” 

“I can see why. You’ve got a talent” Crosshairs commented. “It’s getting dark. You got somewhere to recharge? Keep warm?”

Truss shook her head again “No. I just kinda move to a comfy spot wherever and just pass out there.”

Crosshairs sat up “Well that can’t be healthy. Tell ya what. You can stay with me and my conjunx until we re-group with our team in the morning, okay?” 

Truss nodded as she got up and started to pack her things. Cross offered his hand when she was ready. Truss was hesitant but held it so she wouldn’t get lost. this was new but she was up for a new challenge in life. Hey, she woke up one day in a scrap yard with no memory of how she got there or her origins, this might as well happen.

Loco Motion was investigating something she thought was of use when her Conjunx Endura, crosshairs shouted her name. She looked up at his direction and was rendered speechless. There was Crosshairs... with a youngling in tow?

“Loco! honey! look what i found!” Cross called to his conjunx before picking Truss up. Truss giggled at being lifted high up, almost in the style of Lion King “Can we keep her?” 

[tama-art-stuff]

Welcome to my humble Blog! 💞

In this blog you will find content about cartoons (mainly related to looney tunes).

I love debating and talking about my favorite characters, which also makes me a fan of their authors. The story both in real life and the universes created by them is fascinating to me.

You can refer to me as Tama, Tam, or Tamy (if you want, you even can call me Tamal xD)

My native language is Spanish, but I am open to speaking in any language if you want to talk about looney tunes.

Anyway, to be more specific in this blog I will post my art, gifs, also more personal posts written about what I love about the cartoons, details, inspiration, observations, and characters.

I usually get very excited so I hope and don't mind the long pots 😅

I guess that's all for now, folks.

Anyway, wish you a nice day.❣️💕

.

.

Important message for the Baffy shippers only. Please don't ignore it.

I kindly ask Baffy shippers not to tag my Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck art as "Baffy" or reblog my content on your Baffy blogs.

Please, respect my wish to see absolutely nothing related to that tag on my art, or appear in any Baffy blog.

I don't ship but I have nothing against the ship or the couple (I have friends who ship them). But the Baffy community is just not to my liking and I don't want anything with it and I have logical reasons to do so, and that's exactly why I don't think it's a good idea for someone with that thought to be into the Baffy community, I really don't want to ruin the peace.

"Hey, but you reblog Baffy content"

Yes, it's a ship content, from a shipper, from a shipper blog, but they refuse to call themselves Baffy shippers, and also they escape from the community just like me (or even more). And also I ask their permission first. (And to be honest, if the art is so good, I can't resist)

So I'd better make it clear up front that I'm not your friend, nor do I want to be. But I don't want to be your enemy either :/ I'm a peaceful person who has the strict rule of "you don't like it, block it and let the person live happily while you go on with your life. There is no need to give a negative opinion to something that no one asked you and ruin that person's happiness for a simple little drawing".

I have the tag "Baffy" blocked and would like to keep it as how is, away from me.

It is an easy and simple order petition, Asked in the most friendly way possible.

I'm just a simple blog among a bunch of other blogs that can give Baffy content, so I hope you don't lose your time getting mad at me and just enjoy the content that is for you.

Thanks for understanding.

Peace.

Please

[lolbit-the-clown]

I should probably make an intro post

☆

Hey what's up I'm lolbit

I'm an autistic fictionkin, my special interest is Friday Night Clownin and uh. heres my strawpage go check it out

Stuff I like

☆ GAMES: Friday Night Clownin', Minecraft, Roblox, That's Not My Neighbour, Shipwrecked 64, Poppy Playtime, FNAF, Cult of the Lamb, Inscryption, Pony Town, Slime Rancher, Miitopia, Tomodachi Life, Shadow of the Colossus, Ace Attorney, Indigo Park, Zoonomaly, Astro's Playroom, Error: Save File is Abandoned & Kitty Kart 64

☆ SHOWS/MOVIES: Gladiators, The Chase, The Oldest View, Escape the Night, Trolls Band Together, Coraline, The FNAF movie, Kung Fu Panda 2 & Smiling Friends

☆ MUSIC: Gorillaz, Graham Kartna, Oliver Buckland, C418, spellcasting, Nero's Day At Disneyland, femtanyl & The Symposium

☆ ANIMALS: Valais Blacknose Sheep, Lemurs, Foxes, Horses & Goats

☆ YOUTUBERS: Dawko, Markiplier, Funkyfrogbait & a lot more I don't really watch enough to call myself a proper fan of

☆ Current Hyperfixation: Ace Attorney ☆

I also cooked up a ref sheet lmao

I might change this later but I like how this looks rn

DNI

I don't have a set dni (outside of like basic stuff like homophobes, racists etc). If I feel uncomfy with you interacting or if I just don't like you I'll block. That's it basically

Extra stuff

☆ I swear and make the occasional kms joke on this blog

☆ I also might draw potentially unsettling things. These will be put under a read more and marked with the appropriate warnings

☆ if I reblog your art with something like "ripping this apart with my teeth /pos" that is a compliment and I love your art

☆ please use tone tags when possible

☆ I will tag posts I deem potentially concerning with stuff like "DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY"

☆ if I reblog something that's ai generated please let me know so I can unreblog. I will never reblog ai art on purpose. Ai will never be real art ‼️

☆ speaking of ai, I use ai disturbance overlays on my art. Feel free to ask me for the overlay if u want and I'll give it to u

☆ btw other lolbit fictionkins are allowed to interact with me idm

Ok thats all byeeee

Might edit this at some point idk

[just-a-queer-fanboy]

Hey, quick warning, it's not about assault but this is a lot of me talking about sex and being sexual and being sexualised and sexually harassed for being trans and queer and if you are uncomfortable with that you have every right to scroll on past.

Proceed with caution homies

I am so sick of every conversation I have eventually leading to boiling me down to my sex. I have wonderful friends who accept me and I can talk about sex with (our whole shtick is being extremely homoerotic) without it getting uncomfortable or misogynistic.

But with my classmates its different. To them I am no longer a person. I am not my drawings or my skills or my personality or my sense of humor or my friends or the music I like or anything like that. I am merely a vessel for them to project everything they hate about the queer community onto.

But they, subconsciously, don't see me as binary either. I'm not a real girl or a real boy to them. I am both a failed man and a failed woman. I am not a person, just a stain on the gender system they've been taught. Even one has called me "both a man and a woman" even though he's made it clear he doesn't think it's a possibility.

To them, I am only my genitals and what sex I'd hypothetically be having if I wanted to. They don't need to know what I've got to assume things. If they think I have a penis, then I'm a pedophile. If they think I have a vagina, I'm literally just a fleshlight trying to be a human.

I'm just a kid. I just wish I could escape the constant sexualization put on me by everybody. Even my PARENTS talk to me about abstinence before I go to a friend's house (my mom is much more normal about it, I think my dad is just real bad at social norms and what makes people uncomfortable).

I want that to be a choice that I make.

I want to be allowed to say sexual shit to my friends and be sexual with them without being objectified by people uninvolved with us.

I want to be allowed to talk about being queer without someone immediately asking me about my sex life (including adults. Can people please stop asking how I have sex I am 14 and ace and very uncomfortable). It's endless conversations with nothing but "do you have a penis?" "Can I watch?" "Do you guys scissor?" When all I said was my QPP is non binary and we kiss sometimes

I want to be allowed to make jokes about being horny and hormonal and flirting without creepy grown men trying to hit me up on deviant art (I've had to block 3 already because I draw my sona with big hips, because it's an exaggerated version of my actual body).

I want to be allowed to act sexual and look and feel sexy FOR MYSELF because it's fucking fun. I like dressing skimpy and I like talking about having sex and I like acting like, for lack of a better term, a whore, because it's fucking fun.

And you can think whatever you want about that. But at the end of the day, I want to be allowed to do all that myself, without people twisting it into something misogynistic and transphobic and creepy and gross, just because im queer and AFAB.

Hell, I have an increased chance of being intersex, and I don't even know if I am or not! I could have XY chromosomes but a weird mix of chemicals and not even know it. I could have turner syndrome or hyperandrogyny and literally never know it. But because I've got boobs and hips and a high voice, people assume I have to be a fully binary woman and have to conform to everything associated with women ever.

It's exhausting. God damn.

[nyxicnymph]

The Castle's Directory

About the Lady: Hi! You can call me Nyx or Noctin, and I use any pronouns, though I'm pretty okay with most any others. I'm 20 years old, and enjoy writing, drawing, and reading, all around my college stuff. I'm not online much these days, but I promise I'm still here <33 just message me or send me an ask!

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[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

This is the Beat of My Heart

happy very early birthday to @jaskierswolf​! have some soulmates.

new soulmate mechanic: you can hear your beloved’s heartbeat whenever you feel frightened

art by the always-talented @mawbwehownets​

tw: mentions of the Trials, canon typical violence but it’s just the cave scene from Posada/Four Marks, minor emotional Geralt whump (self loathing witcher feelings), hurt/comfort with a very fluffy ending

---

Geralt’s fingers curl painfully into the tops of his legs. He’s trying to hold himself down against the rough-hewn seat of the tavern bench with all his mighty strength; there’s an irritating sound filling the small room that has activated his fight or flight response, and he can’t do either without drawing suspicion from the already antsy villagers. The haunting rhythm echoes through him, a soft but insistent thud thud thud that floods his senses and soothes his aching head. The sound is more familiar to the witcher than his own gruff voice. More familiar than his brothers’ voices, or Vesemir’s. This staccato beat has marked out every terrifying moment in the witcher’s long life.

The sound that pounds against Geralt’s ears is his soulmate’s heartbeat.

The poor, ignorant fool he’s meant to match in every way is wandering around this shit-hole tavern in Posada, totally unaware of the sad, unsavory fate that Destiny has bestowed upon them. Geralt never thought this day would come, really. Being bound to a witcher was bad enough but being in the same room with one, feeling the subtle pull of forces far beyond your control meddling with your life… drawing you towards danger and death...

It will be better for both of us if I leave as soon as possible, Geralt thinks to himself. He takes a quick inventory of his purse and swords and finds them all accounted for. At least I can spare them the tragic end they’d no doubt meet at a witcher’s side. They would likely hate me if I ever sought them out.

They must be terrified of him, whichever one of these people Destiny has saddled with the other half of Geralt’s soul. They’ve heard his heartbeat, too, in their moments of fear. As well as Geralt knows his soulmate’s giddy, fluttering pulse pattern, they have lived with his slow mutant heartbeat in return. Were they even more frightened when they heard how slow it was? Did the connection serve its purpose, calming them down and reassuring them of his presence, or had it made things worse, elevated their level of terror? How cruel it was for Destiny to chain this person to a living firebrand, to create them to be the perfect other half for someone who’s no more than a monster.

That heartbeat, vibrant and steadfast, is what had kept Geralt alive and fighting for survival during the worst of his Trials. When the poisons and tinctures and potions had crawled through his veins, turning them from black to red to black again and twisting his body into something other, that glorious beating had been there for him. The sound of his soulmate’s fragile mortal heart had measured out the seconds, giving him something to cling onto. That heartbeat had given Geralt something to love. To hope for in his worst moments. When they had dragged him back into those dark, musty rooms, seventeen and screaming with what little was left of his voice, all Geralt could do was pray for his future soulmate’s heartbeat to return to him. To comfort him.

In the relentless pain and terror of those added experiments, Geralt had kept that sound buried deep within his very being, like a candle in the center of a pitch-black room. Even when they said the Trials would take his emotions from him, that the additional testing would obliterate his humanity entirely, the sound of a stranger’s heartbeat never failed to stir the strongest feelings of love and safety he’d ever known.

Can ever know, perhaps.

Regardless of what might have been in another lifetime, Geralt keeps his fingers clenched and his muscles taut. He focuses all his energy on keeping himself sitting. He would have been content to stay there in the corner, his eyes trained on the grain of the worn wooden table before him, ignoring Destiny’s desires entirely… except…

Except for the damned bard. The novice bard swans his way over to the witcher’s corner table, lashes fluttering and face flushed. Geralt catches a faint whiff of arousal and writes it off as a boyish reaction to the rush of performing. The young brunette opens his mouth and the sweetest voice Geralt has ever heard playfully says: “I love the way you just… sit in the corner and brood.”

“I’m here to drink alone,” the witcher grunts. He can practically feel his fingernails biting through the leather of his gloves. The heartbeat is louder now, closer, and it’s driving Geralt mad.

“Good,” the bard nods, still leaning against a support beam. “Yeah, good. Nobody else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance except-” he takes a slow step forward “-for you.”

The bard is probably barely old enough to order his own vodka, and the bright, sparkling blue of his eyes makes the deeper blue of his doublet look incredibly washed out. Geralt tries to keep his face impassive, rolling his eyes and remaining silent. He’s still thinking about his soulmate… trying to block out the rapid thrumming of their all-too-human heart.

“C’mon,” the brunette urges. “You don’t want to keep a man with… bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me; three words or less!”

Geralt hears his soulmate’s heartbeat growing louder, more irregular and more excited, regardless of his efforts to ignore the hurried drumming. The scent of happiness grows thick and hazy in the air as the bard continues to grin and Geralt realizes, with a tiny jolt of horror, that the origin of the life-altering sound is sitting directly across from him. Geralt matches the rabbit-quick jumps at the junctures of the bard’s wrists to the soft rhythm thumping at the back of his head and finds them to be a perfect match.

It’s you, the witcher thinks, eyes widening slightly against his will. He takes a moment to tamp down his more obvious emotions, trying desperately keeping his expression neutral and under control. The bard is the one whose heartbeat kept me breathing in my very worst moments. Kept me fighting. Kept me…

Geralt suddenly remembers that he needs to answer a question: “They don’t exist.”

“What don’t exist?” the bard asks, eyebrows furrowing. The expression is halfway between a pout and an offended grimace, which infuriatingly verges on being adorable. Geralt’s heart lurches traitorously in his chest. He has never known such horrible yearning in all his many decades on the Path.

“The creatures in your song.”

“Why would you know?” the bard scoffs. Geralt prepares to stand, finally releasing his death-grip on his own legs. His fingers and palms are cramped and tight from holding himself still for so long; the bard is really testing his patience. The witcher is less than two seconds away from revealing the big secret and ruining both of their lives when the young man continues, eyes shining, “Ooooh, fun! White hair, big old loner, two very very scary looking swords…”

Geralt stands from the table and collects his purse.

The bard glances up at him, blue eyes wondrously wide and cheeks flushed pink.

“I know who you are,” he practically breathes. He stands, following Geralt halfway out the door. “You’re the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia!”

Geralt’s fists clench again. The retraction of his muscles keeps him from grabbing the foolish human by the collar and dragging him from the room for a proper chat about manners and soulmates. Thankfully. As the disoriented witcher hurries from the tavern’s main room, he hears the bard shouting after him: “Called it!”

---

Geralt snaps back into consciousness with a grunt. As frustration and fear weave themselves into a web of anxiety at the center of his chest, that soft thud thud thudding fills his ears. It soothes him and helps him focus; he is in a cave, it is midday or a little past, and the bard, Jaskier apparently, has been bound against him, back-to-back. He tugs at the ropes that bind their wrists again but it does no good. Behind him, the bard says quietly: “This is the part where we escape.”

Geralt fears for his soulmate’s wellbeing more than his own. He’s technically responsible for this stupid, fragile person who refused to stay behind despite his warnings. He lowers his voice, “This is the part where they kill us.”

“Unfortunate,” the bard sighs. The witcher listens, confused and a bit shocked, as Jaskier slowly starts to even out his breathing by matching his inhales and exhales to Geralt’s slow, methodical heartbeat.

“How can you hear it?” he asks without thinking.

“Hear what?” Jaskier replies, whispering.

“Your breathing,” Geralt says, as if it’s obvious. “You’re matching it to my… to my heartbeat. You don’t have a witcher’s enhanced hearing so how are you matching the rhythm so perfectly?”

“I was matching it to-”

Their conversation ends abruptly as an angry elven woman storms into the cave. She kicks at them furiously, spitting in the Elder tongue, “Beast!”

“Quick, Geralt!” the bard urges, “Do your witchering!”

“Shut up!”

“No!”

The woman doles out more swift kicks to the chest. One for Geralt and one for Jaskier. More muttering in Elder, insults that even the bard manages to understand and toss around. Geralt grimaces as he’s beaten by Toruviel and hears the thudding even louder than before. The witcher smiles when he notices that he can feel Jaskier’s heartbeat against his back, pulsing through the thin material of the bard’s light woolen doublet. It’s so much more intense, close up like this.

“Leave off! He’s just a bard.”

He’s so much more than that, Geralt’s own thoughts remind him. He’s everything to you.

A wave of urgent protectiveness swells within him and Geralt diverts the attention of the Elf King away from the foolish human, whose mouth has run away with him. Eventually Filavandrel tires of their chatter and pulls his short blade. The Silvan rushes forward, arms outstretched to stop his sovereign, “Wait!”

“Torque! Stand aside!”

“The witcher could have killed me,” Torque rushes to explain. “But he didn’t. He’s different, like us!”

Geralt watches with mild trepidation as the battle-hardened King pushes his subject aside, fury blazing in his clear blue eyes. He understands that this may be his final day alive. He wishes that Jaskier would have listened before and stayed at the tavern below. He wishes, with what may be his final moments alive, that Jaskier were safe and not bound to him this way. Literally and figuratively.

“If you must kill me, I am ready,” Geralt intones. “But the Sylvan is right… don’t call me human.”

The witcher tilts his head back, eyes open but unseeing, his entire being focused on the feeling of Jaskier’s racing heartbeat thudding against the back of his leather armor. The killing blow never comes. Instead, Filavandrel cuts the ropes that bind their wrists; Geralt ignores his initial instinct to check Jaskier for injuries and instead ushers the bard onto his feet and towards the mouth of the cave. “Wait!”

The witcher freezes in his tracks and glances back over his shoulder. Filavandrel holds out a gorgeously crafted lute with a beautiful gold design painted across the front. “My apologies for the loss of your instrument.”

“Your Majesty,” Jaskier gasps. “I couldn’t. You’ve already lost so much.”

“Then promise me to do right by him,” the elf nods at Geralt. “And consider it payment.”

“I swear it,” Jaskier nods, tone serious and face grim. Filavandrel lets his eyes flicker between the two unlikely companions and Geralt prays that the Elf won’t say anything out loud, if he indeed understands the bond between them.

“Be on your way, then, before I change my mind.”

Filavandrel winks conspiratorially and disappears back into the shadow of the caves. Jaskier pulls the lute strap over his shoulder and beckons for Geralt to follow him. “Your horse is probably worried.”

---

It takes nearly six months for Geralt to break down and tell Jaskier the truth about their seemingly uncanny partnership. If it weren’t for the rapid approach of harsher winter weather, he probably never would have said anything at all.

But on one particularly frosty evening, two weeks after Samhain, the witcher sits Jaskier down beside their fire and tries to remember how to speak from his heart. The bard is patient, warming his hands over the flames and waiting for Geralt to gather his words. Jaskier has never rushed him, and for that Geralt is eternally grateful. Taking a hint from his companion’s hunched shoulders, Jaskier speaks first. “What’s on your mind, my dearest White Wolf?”

“I… I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to be angry.”

“Did you spill ink on my new doublet?” Jaskier teases. “Because if you have, I promise to be very cross with you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt half-smiles. He’s terrified, and he can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat surrounding him from all sides. “No, I’m afraid it’s more complicated than replacing a doublet.”

“Oh, is this about us being soulmates?”

Geralt’s eyes snap up to meet Jaskier’s and his mouth drops open. “Wha-? When did you- When di-”

“You said it in your sleep maybe two weeks after we first met,” Jaskier explains quietly, like he’s the one who’s been holding back a secret all this time. He blushes furiously as he tries to apologize and extrapolate all at once, “I thought you were just muttering to yourself, really, or I would have woken you up! I swear! You were just…”

Now it’s Geralt’s turn to wait as Jaskier fumbles to speak.

“You hadn’t been resting well and I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so happy and content that night, with your hair all loose and the moon so bright…” he shakes his head and giggles nervously, “Anyway, not important. You rolled over and reached for me. You chuckled a little between snores and said A bard for a soulmate, how lovely. It sounded happy, when you said it like that.”

“Was that… the only time?”

“No,” Jaskier smiles. He pulls his knees against his chest and rests his chin atop them, “You reach for me all the time in your dreams. Sometimes you say my name or call me soulmate or beloved. It’s rather sweet and I-” tears brim in his eyes and Geralt’s heart skips a beat “-I know that witchers don’t feel things the same way humans do. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and then-”

“I love you,” Geralt says. He takes Jaskier by the hands before he can stop himself and pulls the pale knuckles against his lips for a soft kiss. “You… You have saved my life so many times.”

“Geralt!”

“I mean it,” the witcher nods. “I know that the Path is treacherous, and I wouldn’t ask you to join me on it and risk your life, but I do love you and care about you. Ever since I was young I have marked my steps by the beat of your heart. I would be happy continuing to do so, whether or not you accept me in return.”

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier sob-laughs, flinging himself into the witcher’s embrace. Geralt falls backward, shocked, his arms full of emotional bard. His face is peppered with kisses between hurried words: “I love you, too! I thought you didn’t want me that way. I thought it was just… a witcher mutation thing.”

“Come with me to Kaer Morhen for the winter, Julek. You can learn more about my kind; you can meet my brothers and the old swordmaster for the Wolf School, my adopted father of sorts. We’ll protect you and I-” Geralt clears his throat. “I will hold you every night in my arms, if you so desire.”

“I would like it very much if you were to hold me,” Jaskier grins. “And of course I'll come with you to your witchery keep for the cold months, dear heart. I’ll never part from your side again.”

Geralt presses a firm kiss to Jaskier's forehead, their heartbeats echoing faintly in the witcher's trained ears. Something in his chest settles into place, contented at last. He presses another, even gentler kiss to the bard's chapped lips and feels his heart swell when Jaskier smiles into it. He breathes out his promise as they pull apart, "Never."