#and birbs

[fyreheart13]

I painted a chicken for my cousin. (A different cousin than I painted the cat portrait for.) <3 Watercolor on Cold press paper

[ninelivesart]

Another one I forgot to share! This one actually ended up a traditional painting. It started as just a sketch up of what I wanted to do on canvas. I ended up going back and finishing the digital sketch.

The painting was done entirely with India ink. Mostly because I wanted to see if I could do it. So there are definitely some things I’d do differently if I did it again (which I probably will). I’m not sharing the ink painting because it doesn’t photograph well but the video is on my tiktok

[salparadiselost]

I just wanted to say that I adore your AO3 stories. You’re an amazing writer and it makes me smile every time I get an email saying you posted.

Thank you so much anon!

I’m so happy you enjoy them and like when you get a notification from me. I’m having a good time writing them and I’m so happy people are enthusiastic about my weird little AUs.

~Kay

[bwoahtastic]

I GET TO DO SOME FIELDWORK TODAY

*heppy biology student noises*

[asaara-writes]

Till We From Winter Wake (3/3)

Pairing: Fenris/f!Hawke (Dragon Age II)

Summary: This is the last time Hawke buys a book from the Black Emporium.

Notes: In which Hawke and Fenris get sucked into a fairytale, much to their dismay. :D Once again, many thanks to @theherocomplex for her invaluable help, and I really hope this last chapter is worthy of the wonderful reception this has gotten so far! <3

Read on AO3

***

They’re flying away from the castle.

Somehow, this one thought detaches itself from the whirlwind in her head: they’re not going back to the castle, where Jocelyn might have simply donned a new mask and forced her to dance till her legs gave out. A known evil, at least. The dark horizon looms that much more ominously at the end of the blurred tunnel around her.

Her ears ache; her eyes water, wide open despite the smarting winds. Each breath turns into a forceful gulp of bitter cold air, fighting for space with her thundering heart inside her ribcage.

Another thought, spinning like a leaf: how long would it take before she hit the ground, were Jocelyn to drop her?

But his grip is fast around her waist, a claw or two piercing through her corset to prick the skin of her stomach. Her fists are clenched to her sides; she refuses to touch him, even as they fly, impossibly, towards the snowy peaks edging closer. For a moment she thinks the prince will soar over the craggy spine of the mountain range, but then their destination comes into view: a spire overhanging the rock face, clawing its way into the night sky. Tall arched windows glow with a flickering light on the curved wall of the tower, like a lighthouse gone wrong.

Jocelyn sweeps inside through one of the gaping windows. Hawke’s legs buckle under her weight when her feet touch the floor, but she scrabbles away from him, eyes darting around for an egress of some sort and finding none. Save for the windows, the round room is bare and smooth. Not even a trapdoor in the floor or ceiling—not that she’d have any hope of reaching it.

His tall lithe form faces her from across the room. “We regret you should have seen us in such a state of undress before our union,” he says, laughing lightly. Torches burn bravely despite the wind twisting around the room, but their light sinks into the hole where his face should be. “Highly inappropriate.”

Staring into that gaping void makes her want to scream, but Hawke doesn’t dare tear her gaze away from him. “What the fuck are you?” Her voice is a rasp, her legs shaking despite herself. She lost her remaining shoe somewhere, and the cold floor bites through the soles of her stockings.

“Ah, très chère. Why make it harder on yourself? All you need to know is we always get what we want,” he answers with a tone of gentle reproof.

“And what is that?” she forces herself to ask. She really, really doesn’t want to know.

He adjusts the cuff of his leather falconry glove. The hem of his cape flutters behind him in the gusts of wind that rush through the window. “Nature is beautiful, don’t you agree?” Hawke simply glares at him, not that he seems to expect an answer. “There is nothing more beautiful, more moving than the pathos of nature fighting for itself, nothing purer than the wild uncontrollable urge of instinct. Every bird we tame, every wild horse we break is a duel of wits against the simple, mindless, brute strength of nature.”

“That’s just cruelty,” she snaps, remembering the thread seeling the peregrine’s eyes. “You make me sick.”

Jocelyn laughs, that hollow, charnel laugh. Even the flames of the torches shudder at the sound. “Our point exactly. The instant we laid eyes on you, we saw that wildness inside you begging to be tamed.”

Read the rest on AO3!

Read from the beginning

[fedoraspooky]

A new page of Kilroy is up! You can read it over here on Tapas or on Smackjeeves.

If you’d like to support my work, please consider checking out my Patreon or Ko-Fi! I’m also currently taking commissions!

[asktheitalianempire]

Tales from Ducktalia, inspired by @askthevaticancity . Poor Gabe must have such an hard time trying to save his siblings from damnation (and from ending on the family’s menu) and Luciano truly is a problematic Duck.

The peackock is obviusly Flavio. I WILL draw more once I learn HOW to draw bird bodies better.

I truly am a talented artist, guys! You are welcome for this irreplaceable addiction to the hetalia fandom.

[gotshadowbanned-feralfungii]

🔥! about whatever you like ö

idk if this is unpopular but i think the joker is over-rated and overused and often not even written to the best of his potential, despite being the villain written for the most.

If that is, in fact, not unpopular, then here’s something controversial and shocking for you: dogs and cats are both wonderful