ā : Ships, Characters, OC's, yumeships, RPF, yourself and your friends / Family, Gore, suggestive art
ā: Mechas, Animals, Furries, Porn
It's my right to refuse a commission without any reason given.
Offers: Portraits, half/ full body characters, fanfic illustrations, posters and covers
Please send me as many references as possible. These should include: close-ups of the face, poses, perspectives, clothing and accessories, backgrounds, color palettes, or mood boards. Don't be afraid to be as detailed as possible, but I can also add creative liberties if you wish :)
Smaller comissions (sketches or line drawings) can be paid for in advance or upon completion. For larger comissions (complete renderings, full-body drawings, and backgrounds), half of the amount is payable in advance, with the remainder due upon completion.
I will provide a 100% Refund if iām not able to complete the commission for whatever reason. I will not provide refunds after the completion.
If you have any questions or if anything is unclear please ask me via DM or drop an ask (donāt be shy <3)
Anything else like deadlines or updates etc. can be discussed further in conversation.
(Warning, mentions of PTSD, minor angst, and medical mistreatment)
He may have primarily been a cook during the majority of his time in the service, but that did not spare Dick from the sights and sounds of war. He thought he was different than the other soldiers when he returned stateside, he thought he was safe from the psychological damage. Dick believed, wholeheartedly, that he was immune to the breakdowns and mental distress that came hand in hand with those who returned from war because of his shine. A few months before he was stationed in Derry, he discovered just how wrong he was.
It was a pan. Thatās all it took.
A pan falling off of a counter and hitting the floor behind him. Never mind it was broad daylight in the middle of a mess hall kitchen in Massachusetts, none of that mattered the moment the sound hit his ears. Dick lost it, started whisper-shouting at the private whoād knocked it off. They were supposed to be quiet for Godās sake. Didnāt he understand he could get them all killed? He needed to be careful, unless he wanted to end up like the guy before him. Unless he wanted them all to go home in boxes.
Dick still feels bad about the tongue lashing he gave that poor kid.
They sent him to a doctor on base who didnāt understand. Heād seen it before, of course, dozens of men all struggling with the things theyād seen in combat, but he didnāt get it. On his third visit, after being told again to try taking a sedative when he started to feel like he was on the battlefield, Dick lost what little patience he had left.
It was the first time heād used his shine in years. He knew he was putting himself in danger, thrusting himself into a spotlight he did not want to be in. But maybe if they could just see what he was going throughāreally, truly understand what he lived with, they would help him. Dick showed him everything, the nightmares, the flashbacks, the countless times heād relived scenarios that had long since passed.
In return, they set out to make him a weapon.
Over time, he learned to cope, but it was never foolproof. Smoking helped, but he knew that the tobacco probably wasnāt great for him. Running helped too, but he couldnāt rely on himself to stick to it, well-disciplined as he was. No amount of sedatives, group therapy, herbal remedies from Rose, or drinking gave him the relief he prayed for. The only thing that did, he discovered purely by accident.
Pennywiseās lithe fingers run down his chest, smoothing thin braided strings of spiderweb over his shoulder. Soft as silk, strong as steel, and unnoticeable to any eyes but their own. Secret. It meticulously connects them to the strings running horizontal below his chest, before bringing them back up and over his other shoulder. The harness it weaves him into is intricate, putting pressure on all the spots he needs to feel grounded.
Dick shut his eyes when it began to work, standing still in the middle of his bedroom to give it room to maneuver. Warm in the morning sun, he tries to clear his head. He only moves when it asks him to, only listens to the sounds it makes, focuses solely on the feeling of Itās hands and tries to lose himself in it. Heās already feeling a little better than he was earlier, the tension gone from his shoulders and neck. Dick flexes, testing the tightness of the harness, and smiles as Pennywise hums appreciatively to his side.
The web shines in the sunlight where itās bound his flesh, a visual feast for It and It alone. Marking him as Itās in a way thatās more intimate, to It, than the ring on his finger. Gently, it drags its fingers down his back and savors the shiver it pulls from him, chitinous claws catching on threads as it moves down. Dickās seen it in this form before, lower half turned spider-like in order to spin its web. It expected him to shy away when it first showed him, expected the smell of fear and chemical mix of adrenalineānot for Dick to run his hands over its body reverently. He only made one comment about it, something that got lost in the passion that followed, but loosely it remembers something about it being a miracle, the fact that it fits in his bedroom.
āArms out,ā Pennywise instructs, some of the only words that have been said since they started, and Dick obeys. It uses the harness on his chest as an anchor, weaving down his biceps and decorating him in an elaborate design he is meant to feel more than see. Some days it will strip him bare, rig his whole body in carefully crafted diamond patterns that hug his skin no matter what way he moves. Others, like today, are simple and practical. Well, this was meant to be simple, but is quickly turning into anything but. Dick doesnāt mindāthe longer it works, the more time he has to drift.
In the same way that someone who has never seen the ocean canāt understand what itās like to stand on the shore, It does not fully understand the trauma Dick carries. It doesnāt have to, content to weave complex designs against Dickās skin for as long as he will allow it. Yes, it finds his fear and disorientation deliciousābut it sees the way his shine dims when his brain convinces him that heās in danger, and it simply cannot allow that.
The pressure of the silk alone makes his shine pulse with energy, reaching out to Itās lights as he feels a little more weightless. It doesnāt make him reach for long, encircling his shine with its lights as it continues its tapestry, weaving down his torso, anchoring him tight. Eventually, it will run out of room on his upper body to bind him and eventually, Dick will have to leave the house to go to the store. But for now, just for a moment, he floats.
For an artist, thereās no better feeling than when a new piece of media youāve become passionate about sparks your creativity, and you find yourself drawing one thing after another nonstop for days on end, as if you were on coke
if anyone from europe has experience with selling stickers and sending them to international customers in the US I would love to hear how you do it becaus ethe whole process seems very complicated and expensive and i donāt really understand it.
I just got @ in the comment section of this post, and upon further investigation I have found it to be a scam. DO NOT CLICK THE LINK MENTIONED. It is a fake link that will take you to a harmful site, and likely wants to steal your personal information. do not engage.
Here's the blog:
And here was the post.
I repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE. I reported the post and the account as a scam. I'm making this post to alert others so that they don't fall for it, as I saw alot of people pinged in the comments there.
