My art contribution to the 23-24 Mini Bang! Done for the wonderful crimsonxraptor and their fic Handling It! Be sure to give it a read!
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@artclari Merry Crisis from your @starshippingweek exchange match!
This is the product of not being given a prompt or any restrictions. So PSA for anyone in an exchange with me in the future: if I am not given a prompt you will get the first and possibly dumbest self-indulgent idea my brain comes up with.
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A Fun Summer Day – Carl von Bergen // The See-Saw – Frederick Morgan // Children Playing in the Garden – Auguste Viande // Afternoon Tea in the Public Garden – Victor Gilbert // Recess - Melanie Martinez
for @always-andromeda 💐 💙
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Don’t get it twisted, I’ve always been an emotional little baby. But my art professor just sent me an email telling me she’s happy I’m in her class, she’s impressed by my work ethic, and that I’m doing good this semester. And that’s the story of how I cried for the third time today. 🥹
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🌌Day 16: Astrology ♓
Tiger & Sirrah arrived Kimiko's house, also Meda was invited, too. She will show the astrology because Sirrah hates astrology (which astrology is not astronomy 👀💕). She has dislike. Tiger has a funny thing 🙂♥️❤️. Meda & Kimiko have a good plan since they like stars or rather their choices 😆❣️✨♥️
Fanart gift for @/doma_doodles & @/yukionna689
Last slide;
Prompt Credit: This month prompt challenge belongs to someone, I should draw my doodle arts for challenge ♥️😁❣️
OCs:
Sirrah (@/doma_doodles)
Kimiko (@/yukionna689)
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Philippa Eilhart was known by many with many different names and epithets, but to Radovid there were only two that mattered; The Witch and his mom.
His mom and his mother were two separate people. His mother was a steel eyed Queen who'd given birth to him, his mom by contrast had big dark eyes that almost resembled the owl she could turn into. His mom took care of him.
The Witch inhabited his mom's body. He did not know why she wanted to hurt him, why she could switch in an instant. He did know that he hated the witch. It must be the magic, he reasoned. It was the corruption by the magic that made her hurt him. If she genuinely wanted to hurt him, why would she take care of him?
The witch's dark eyes were impenetrable and he could feel them on him even when his back was turned, scrutinizing every action, waiting for him to slip up. Today it was that she didn't like the tone he used with her.
Pain was common in Tretogor. The stone walls were worse than any prison cell, any dungeon he owned, he was certain. He'd rather be locked up with the key thrown away or hung in the gallows than spend another second with the witch.
This time it was magic, oftentimes it was lashing. The burning, tingling, electrocuting pain of the magic was enough anguish to make him cry. He hated crying. But once the witch was done torturing him he had his mom back, for a brief moment.
Her arms wrapped around him holding him close and muffling the sounds of his sobs. She ran her fingers through his hair gently, reassuringly. Her voice was soft as she sung him a song quietly, and got him ready for bed.
Philippa Eilhart was known by many names and epithets, but she was most often the Wicked Witch in his fairy tale. There would be no Prince or Knight to save him from this never ending torment, he thinks; and as he lays on his stomach, back raw from lashing and throat hoarse from crying he begins to think of all the things he'll do when he is fully King, because then he'll have real power, and not just a dream.
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