3:03 AM

3:03 AM. The clock hands stood firm, indicating that it was extremely damn early in the morning. Eris would have groaned were it not for the possessive arms that held her tightly in place. She hadn’t had this much trouble trying to sleep since her first night of clarity—and capture—which was concerning to her because she had never woken before him. Fighting her alert mind was not fruitful, so she resigned to the rest of her suddenly sleepless night.

Shifting ever so slightly, her red locks enveloped Conquest’s face more and she was almost certain she heard him breathe in her scent deeply. Briefly she wondered if it was for comfort or certainty that she was still there, but did it even matter? She had been most assuredly his for longer than she cared to keep track of and it was too familiar and sickeningly comforting to care to change it anymore. Sure, she had tried to escape him once, but that was met with harsh consequences. His way of punishment served as a double-edged sword; he had left her alone for a whole week in “her” quarters. Whether it was the endless silence that even the rustle of fabric dare not break, or the way her throat was parched and dry from sobbing for lack of his poisonous presence, she wasn’t sure which was truly worse. The first night he had allowed her back into their bed, she woke up tucked into his chest like a lovesick welp, disgusted by how sound she had slept.

Staring at his fingers—long and spindly—she bit her lip softly as his grip twitched in the slightest, his hand sat atop hers, looped through her own fingers like they were merely lovers. He had taken her without question, made her his before she knew better to identify as anything other than just that. A fresh mind was ever-so-easy to corrupt and his plan to truly possess her had worked. Moving just the slightest, she pressed her lips to the closest knuckle of his that she could reach, leaving a feather-soft kiss on his hot skin, a secret that only she would keep.

There were times that she wanted to be free, but those moments grew sparser and fleeting even when they came. Even during the moments she started to feel the tug of something greater inside her, the moments where her words were venom to him and she was so certain she would be punished, he seemed to fuel that fire. Oh but did she ever like that challenging glint in his eye when she became fierce. She wanted to fight him, but she wanted to devour him just as well. She wanted the chaos of him, wanted to writhe beneath him, atop him, greedily milk him for all he was. Conquest made the fire in her feel more powerful and it was too late and too true to deny it, even to herself anymore.

Somewhere, in all her time of awareness, he had become her home and for better or worse she was bound by more than invisible chains. It felt like more than that from the beginning, though she meant to deny it forever. She hated him, but she loved him too and he knew it.

What if that meant she would soon lose what little luster she held though? Her lip quivered as she shut her eyes tightly against that nagging thought. She was no fool and she knew that he had kept her far longer than any other. How long could a broken human entertain the whims of a true enigma? It was a prospect that exhilerated and terrified her. Her mind sung for freedom and captivity all at once and her chest ached at the way her soul was forever torn. This was all she knew, for better or worse, and were she to lose it… she would surely lose herself even more than ever. Eyes dampened as her lip bled from the way her teeth worried the plump flesh. She hadn’t even felt this alone, locked away in her room for a week.

The dark thoughts were interrupted however as familiar fingers gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks and she gasped softly in surprise as her forlorn companion turned her to face him. Her bright hair billowed below both their heads as Conquest’s eyes searched her features without betraying their emotions. Despite her every instinct to pull away, her gaze held his while his hand lay forgotten on the smooth skin of her cheek.

"I’m sorry to wake you," she whispered softly, "I had an unpleasant dream that woke me. I did not mean to disturb your sleep as well," she half-lied, her chest tightening under his eye’s scrutiny.

"Go back to sleep then, little bird," he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip that was perhaps inbetween mockery and genuine concern, "All is well." His words left no room for argument and he quickly pulled her against him again, though her face pressed against his hard, but warm chest this time.

Her cheeks dampened his chest for only a moment until somehow despite herself she found her sleep again and her breathing grew even. With her eyes closed and her mind gone, all troubles were forgotten and she allowed herself to be comforted by the cruelest creature she would ever know.

So Lorhs is obviously my bestest gal in the entire universe.  It’s only fair that I draw her adorable boo, Mizi again.

Because she is a fierce princess.

Making a head shot of all four of my favs, keep watching for more to come!

I love this show and my love for Sansa burns like the breath of dragons over Westeros.  Most drawings I see of Sansa are her looking rather gloomy.  While it makes sense—due to her extremely troubled life—I thought I’d much rather see her with a look of rebellion.  No longer your pretty little bird

Free Requests

I just got my new tablet today and in celebration of it (and my AMAZING followers), I am taking one (or more) doodle requests for me to pick at my leisure for this long holiday weekend.  To submit a request, start your message with “murrayplz” with a link to a PICTURE reference to my ask box.  I am not against doing real people, but I am more likely to pick OCs with good, clear refs. (:

 I will TRY to do my best and do as many as possible, but as always I am human obviously.


This lady is the beginning of an art series I am working on which is currently known as Women of Folklore.  To start it off, I painted a Banshee.

In legend, a banshee wails nearby when someone is about to die. There are some special families who are believed to have banshees attached to them, and whose cries herald the death of a member of that family.  Banshees are frequently described as dressed in white or grey, often having long, pale hair.

My vision for her was that she attempts to protect a family—her former family in life—from the same horrible fate she suffered many centuries past.

It’s nothing, it’s just a wolf.

Felt like doodling the Day of the Doctor Rose/Bad Wolf as a warm up because ugh the feels.  

Just a fun little drawing of my gurl, Sailor Mars.

Anonymous asked: I don't have a tumblr account and was directed here from reddit, but I was wondering if you did commissions since you don't seem to have a post about it. Sorry to be a bother!

Oh!  That’s quite all right!  You’re absolutely not a bother and I’m happy to hear you are interested in my art (:

I don’t have an actual post about commissions, but I do take them.  Art is a passion for me and although it is not my main career, I love the option I have for doing it on the side.

Right now, I don’t have a post for commissions mainly because my availability is varied as well as my prices.  I find I am more comfortable this way and it gives a chance for us to discuss the picture and the different options for it (since I am open to digital and traditional mediums) beforehand as well as assuring that both parties are clear on what is expected.

That said, if you—or anyone else for that matter—is ever curious as to commissioning me, you are more than welcome to email me at wattersmary13@yahoo.com though if you DO email me, I encourage you to also alert me that you did by sending me an ask or a message on reddit since sometimes my email filters the wrong things into the spam folder unfortunately.

Thanks for the ask internet stranger! <:

Did a quickie of Fyora in palette number 7.  Yey.