Idk

It's a work in progress

[dopeartisanprincess]

Realizing I've never drawn Alis then giving up halfway through. The tree bark skin was as fun as it was challenging

"Start a new wip, I'll finish it this time." I say to myself, knowing damn well I'll get distracted again halfway through smh

[dopeartisanprincess]

My little comfort characters. The cauldron is the maker of everything, so I don't think her colors are ever consistent as she changes and experiences new things her look does too, kinda like a living mood ring. Only Nesta can see her right now though

This was supposed to be sketches and rough coloring so I can better visualize them but starry night, sailor song(specifically the covered in my favor part), and Malevolent have all had me in a chokehold lately.

-small side note I'm playing around with the thought of Nesta being physically marked by the cauldron, specifically her blood from when she went chomp chomp

Anyway sorry for rambling but these two have been keeping me distracted. Like nonhuman entity bonding with a person and learning what it means to be human all while both heal from similar past trauma is always good to me.

[dopeartisanprincess]

@tamlinweek

Sorry guys

Edit to add: I procrastinated again hard he's turning his mother's rose into butterflies but it got cut down due to time constraints 🫠 unfortunately this isn't the only one I put off. I'll see you all again at the end of the week

[dopeartisanprincess]

😀 I'm back! Slightly, I hope you've all been well. Here's a minor art dump with wips old and new I may never finish

Here's a little light singer experiment, something about dragonfly wings made sense to me, reflecting light and all that. Couldn't get it down exactly though

The babies, one with all the girls au of sorts where they grow up happily together, and Feyre has a bad imitation of a jellyfish cut after getting to some scissors. Eris is trying to dress Lucien, he gave up in the end

Some Nesta ships. We have Rhysta, Neslin, and the cauldron. Let me explain the cauldron one. I was watching a video on yellowjackets, and they were talking about female friendship, cannibalism, and love. I was also listening to Malevolent around that time if that makes sense.

Nesta took a munch out of the cauldron because it took her humanity, she was angry and scared. I started to wonder what if the cauldron needed to fill those missing pieces with what it'd taken, Nesta's humanity. It kinda haunts her like a ghost only she can see and hear. All while taking the shape of Claire and having to stay with reduced power because the rest of it is asleep. Idk how their dynamic would work entirely because now it's sorta mortal, cut off from all it knew and feeling powerless, bound to the person that took said power. Idk the idea is still forming but the thought of it being a weapon and just trying to find itself while in a new form seems interesting.

Gwyn and Emerie is a ship I've found myself on and it's probably the best ship here idc fight me they've never done anything wrong in their entire lives. The second one is pretty much a mermaid Gwyn and illyrian princess Emerie au I dreamt up before i got distracted with the second and didn't finish either. Oh, and them in the snow

And a bit of Feylin au I never finished, a role reversal of sorts

Aannndddd that's all the images Tumblr will let me add, see yall around

[dopeartisanprincess]

This is Eman a Biotechnologist from Gaza. Asking for help is not easy. It's not easy at all. You have no idea how mentally and emotionally tiring this is. But when thinking that the price is my family's life, getting out of here safely and achieve my doctoral degree dream, it just pushes me more and more to do this until we reach our goal. I'm here as I try to reach out to more people asking for their help to support our family's campaign so we can survive while all you have to do is literally donating even by just the price of your morning coffee or maybe a simple breakfast, So I think I'm not asking for so much. We're really tired of living under these catastrophic conditions for a whole 10 months. Your generosity will not only change our lives but also remind us that even in our darkest hour, we are not alone. https://gofund.me/d597b8e2

I unfortunately can't help but hopefully this reaches someone who can.

Donate to Help my family survive famine and have secure life, organized by Mazin Fakak

Dear friends, family, and compassionate supporters, My name is Eman Za… Mazin Fakak needs your support for Help my family survive famine an

[dopeartisanprincess]

Feyre decided to borrow Nesta's knife.

[abo-ataa]

Help save the life of Attaa

Attaa, a precious 2-year-old girl born after her parents' 7-year wait. Now, her life is in danger as war engulfs the Gaza Strip. We desperately need your support to provide her with life-saving medical care and shelter. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a world of difference. Please consider donating today to help Attaa and her family survive this unimaginable ordeal. By sharing this post, you can help spread the word and increase the chances of reaching our goal. Together, we can give Attaa a fighting chance against the horrors of war. Thank you for your kindness and generosity. Every dollar donated brings us closer to saving Attaa's precious life.

GoFundMe link

[fairuzfan]

Please consider donating!!

[rosesncarnations]

Speak no evil

Hear no evil

See no evil

[copypastus]

Fandom is about smacking the dolls you like together like they're kissing coz it makes you happy, it's not that serious.

Reposting someone's work to ridicule it coz you don't agree with the pairing is bad etiquette.

@praetorqueenreyna silly hat Rhys inspired me @lorcandidlucienwill hope i can make you smile with this

[anneemay]

[foxcort-deactivated20260131]

“Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

written for day 5: shapeshifter of @tamlinweek.💚🌷/ one moonlit, eerie night, two monsters strike a bargain. / (SW)

a/n: this is a little fic based off of an edit i did a while back of a concept of werewolf!tamlin and vampire!nesta but put them in a guy ritchie's sherlock holmes backdrop (or late victorian/early edwardian), because why not.

tw: none.

He caught her in the gardens, looking as innocent as a thorn on a rose, her crimson dress fluttering around her when she whipped around to face him. As soon as he’d seen her slinking away from the overzealous crowd of guests, he’d followed after her, his steps not quite as silent as hers.

“Are the festivities not to your liking, my lady?” Tamlin gestured a ways behind him, where warm light illuminated the high windows of Greenwood Manor and the sounds of merriment rose and fell to the tune of the small orchestra. “I told my emissary a circus would’ve been more lively this year.”

She didn’t titter or blush at his jest, didn’t flush at being found in an odd position. Instead she glanced him once up and down, a slow perusal not unlike a predator sizing up an adversary. Her heels clicked against the stone pavement as she strode closer to him, still a smile absent from her red painted lips.

Lady Nesta Mandray was more formidable in person than he imagined she would be. Recently widowed and thought to be a recluse, he'd sent her an invitation to his annual Spring Equinox ball anyway and was mildly pleased she'd taken the bait and made an appearance.

Even if her state of dress was not what he was expecting.

The gown that adorned her body was still modest in fashion, as all dresses worn by genteel women of high status tended to be, but the vibrant red was a stark contrast to the lilacs and tangerines and yellows swirling around the ballroom right now.

At last, she gave him a smile, though it was too sharp and too fleeting. "I wasn't aware all your guests were to be kept prisoner in that stuffy old ballroom." She threw a dismissive look at the manor behind him and Tamlin found himself growing more fond of her for it. "Am I not allowed anywhere else on the grounds?"

He chuckled softly, head bowing as he closed a few more steps between them, “Forgive me, I've been a horrendous host." Tamlin paused, taking his turn to study her, and understood that perhaps he was the prey. "Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Mandray?” 

“Lady Archeron,” she corrected. “I’m afraid Tomas’ name died along with him.” Her sharp gaze seemed to say good riddance.

He smiled. The first real one he’d permitted to show her. “Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Archeron?” 

She regarded his offered arm with unconcealed hesitance, her silver eyes flicking up to meet his as she spoke her next words slowly, carefully.

“Should I be frightened of you, Lord Greenwood?” 

“No.” He was not the kind of monster he suspected Lord Mandray had been. “Not as I am now.”

She arched a brow, and he could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to piece together what he meant. Not as he was now. Not when the moon was only half-full.

It was a tentative, deliberate action but after a few moments of silence, Nesta relented, her fingers curling lightly over his upper arm. Even through the layers of his expensive coat jacket and shirt, he could feel the unnatural chill of her touch.

Without meaning to, Tamlin shivered at that touch and she gave him another one of her rare smiles. “My apologies.” She sounded anything but, and he swore an undertone of delight colored her voice. “I haven’t seen much sunlight since Tomas’ death.” A hunting accident of sorts, he’d heard, though Tamlin didn’t doubt he had help reaching his end.

He struck an easy pace through the gardens and the vineyard, moonlight illuminating their path. “I would offer my condolences, but it would be a lie to say I’m not pleased you no longer have a husband.”

Nesta laughed, a cold and lovely sound. “If you’re attempting to court me, you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

“Without a chaperone? I wouldn’t dare besmirch your reputation.”

She waved a hand in the direction of the revelry, her nose crinkling in distaste. “If I cared for a moment what those peacocks and pigeons thought of me, I wouldn’t risk being caught in the shadows with you.”

They were almost upon the winery now, a more modest building in comparison, but still sturdily built. And conveniently vacant.

Tamlin slowed their pace, coming to a halt before the padlocked front door. “Something tells me you accepted my invitation and came all this way to risk something else entirely.” He felt her grip on his arm tighten almost imperceptibly. “Your late husband was quite a paranoid man, last I remember.”

The shift in conversation seemed to ruffle her feathers a little and Nesta gently pulled away from him, her fingers digging into the folds of her dress. “And when do you remember him last?”

“I believe it was right before his death.” He said it matter-of-factly, his eyes tracking her movements with quiet interest. “Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

She shrugged, and he had the impression that both of their masks were rapidly slipping. “He wasn’t a very smart man.” Nesta began to walk, circling him slowly, her eyes half-lidded yet somehow more aware. “I always did tell him to pick his marks carefully, and he always did aim a little higher than he should have.” The tips of her fingers grazed over her exposed collar bone, where he could faintly make out the remnants of a scar. Puckered but fading. Almost as if there’d once been a bullet wound there. “I wonder, Lord Greenwood,” her eyes sharpened and she stilled in front of him, “do you consider yourself a smart man?”

“Oh, only the smartest,” he admitted calmly, an amused smile curving over his mouth. “Though I prefer you be the judge of that.” With that, he strode to the door and removed the padlock, quickly pocketing the small key afterward. Tamlin swung the door open and tilted his head towards it in invitation.

Nesta threw him a suspicious, narrow-eyed look but otherwise strode into the dimly lit winery without another word. He guided them once more, walking deeper and deeper into the barrel-filled building with complete confidence that they would run into no one. Other than the fact that his guests and staff were too drunk on spirits and levity to be roaming so far from the manor, Tamlin had strict rules imposed on the security of this particular building. The most prominent being that no one was to step foot in the building after dark and the door was to always be locked. The key was either always on his person or given to his emissary, Lucien, on the nights he needed someone to lock him in.

His staff was more than willing to believe the lord of Greenwood Manor had a haughty opinion of his stock, that perhaps he took certain measures because the secret to his winemaking was something he coveted greatly. And Tamlin let them believe as such. For the alternative — the truth — would see him in bedlam.

They finally halted before a set of cells. Two large, cold imprisonments hidden deep in the winery’s basement, the turn almost blocked by yet another high-stacked row of barrels. Understanding dawned on her face when Nesta took in the contents of the cells. Long, sturdy chains hammered into enforced concrete walls, the ends of them finished with shackles too big for anything human.

“Shackles? In a wine cellar?” She stood at the threshold of one of the open cell doors, a hint of amusement glinting at her eyes when she flicked them up to meet his. “Hardly a proper thing to reveal to a lady, your nighttime . . . activities?”

“Ah.” His mouth curved into a slow grin as he leaned against the iron bars, and when he spoke again his voice had gone rough. “But you’re no lady, are you?”

She turned, her smile unbidden now, as if all the pretense of propriety had been lifted. “No. But you’ve known that for some time now.”

“Ever since Tomas confided in me that he believed his wife would kill him, I admit, I’ve been suspiciously curious.” Nesta’s smile faltered, but he continued on. “He thought my connections with the Yard would be enough to condemn you to a madhouse. I, of course, refused him any help.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she drawled, “Unfortunately, I have no need of a white knight.”

“Good,” he smiled, letting a bit of the contained ferality peek through his expression. “I would hate to disappoint you.”

“Then tell me, Lord Greenwood—” Nesta paused, stepping closer to him, a serious and impatient tone settling over her features, “Why do any of this? What do you want with me?”

“I have a . . . proposition, of sorts.”

“Go on.”

He laughed nervously, taking a moment to admire her straightforward demand, before asking, “Will you marry me, Lady Archeron?”

Those silver eyes narrowed again, and she gave a lazy perusal of him once more, only this time he had the feeling she was sizing him up for entirely different reasons. “Are you so eager to meet an end similar to Tomas?”

He pushed away from the bars to move closer to her, that gruff undertone returning to his speech. “If it were by your hands, I would die a happy man.”

Her eyes widened a fraction and he saw a faint flush of color rise over her cheeks. Before she could indeed make the decision to gut him right then and there, Tamlin said, “I believe a marriage would be beneficial to us both. To the secrets we want to hide and the habits we cannot break.”

Nesta regarded him quietly for a long moment, and he imagined she could see the advantages of his proposal. Of sharing the burdens of their secrets with one another. Of hiding the suspicions that would start to rise for the both of them as the years went on.

Finally, she tipped her chin and gave him another sharp, little smile. “I accept, Lord Greenwood.” Tamlin felt his heart jump at her words, a reaction he hadn’t anticipated when he’d set out to strike a bargain with Nesta Archeron. “Although I wouldn’t entirely rule out the possibility of mariticide, if I were you.”

“If you do decide to murder me, promise me you’ll keep my name.” He offered her his arm again, with the intention of leading them out of the winery to resume their stroll under the moonlight, his smile wider than he could constrain.

“A possessive man? How disappointing.”

“I don’t mean to own you, my lady. I mean to haunt you.”

Nesta laughed as she looped her arm around his, more at-ease now as she followed him back through empty building and out into the night. “I think it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep that promise.”

a/n: once again a super specific little piece that was meant to be posted a lot sooner 😀 but i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you guys enjoy it too!

[dopeartisanprincess]

Honestly not sure about this one but my ma said it was cute so fuck it, here's human Tamlin.

@tamlinweek

[dopeartisanprincess]

Sooooo guess who waited last minute again despite attempting to do this for months?

It was me, 🫠 happy Tamlin week y'all

@tamlinweek

[winterscale]

Save me random nesta wip please save me

[sayruq]

Help Mahmoud rebuild his artisanal bakery, organized by Mahmoud Mush

(Deutsch weiter unten) An unfulfilled dream... I write these words unsure … Mahmoud Mush needs your support for Help Mahmoud rebuild hi

Boost. Donate if you can

[hallowedfury-deactivated2024032]

Reign and Ezrik

i commissioned my OCs Reign and Ezrik from mossytrashcan and look how gorgeous they are! Reign’s scar couldn’t have turned out better, and the detail in her broken eye will always be my favorite part.

Reign is the Queen of Dragons, and Ezrik her faithful right hand. She is blind in her eye. Ezrik has red eyes, like all dragons, but Reign’s look brown because her father was a human and her mother was the former Dragon Queen. Not sure what else to say about them that won’t spoil their story, but if you’d like to read about them, the first three chapters of their story, Ruthless Reign, are posted here!

[thrumugnyr]

I swore I would kill him, not so long ago. - A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow