164/365 The progress on the one flower bed. #junephotochallenge #daythirteen https://www.instagram.com/p/CnIehvrpT_Y/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Dinovember x Huevember day 13 Not gonna lie this is the furthest I've ever made it in a draw every day challenge! Today's dino is the Iguanodon (Iguana tooth), an iguanadontia type from the late Jurassic to early Cretaceous periods in what is now Europe (based on the early 21st century taxonomic revision). These dudes were pretty bulky, giving your local gym bro a run for his money with an average of 4.5 metric tonnes in body mass! Prompt list by @drago.kaiju2000 . . . . . . #graveink #dinovember #dinovember2022 #huevember #huevember2022 #iguanodon #iguanatooth #iguanadontid #purple #red #winsorandnewtonnz #winsorandnewtonwatercolors #brbchasingdreams #watercolor #watercolors #watercolours #ink #inkdrawing #roar #daythirteen #day13 #newzealandart #aotearoaartist (at Wellington, New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck7nFo5rEEZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

angstpril day 13

prompt: “You lied to me.”

ao3

Obi-wan is sleeping in his quarters when Anakin finally works up the nerve to sneak back in. He'll have to explain about his missing books and broken training saber tomorrow, he knows—he can't mention the other padawans, because Obi-wan will think he's just making excuses. Just like all the other Masters do. 

Because Padawan Jera and her posse are "model students," unlike Anakin. They're "calm and serene," unlike Anakin. They "understand the importance of tradition and preparation for classes," unlike, apparently, Anakin.

"You lied to me," he says softly, staring at Obi-wan's sleeping form. "You said the Temple would be my home. The Jedi would be my family."

Those that don't hate him look down on him. Those who don't look down on him find him strange and off putting. Those who don't find him strange simply pity him. And no one, no one approaches him. The Masters all think him a mistake. That he should have never been accepted.

He's so lonely it aches.

He doesn't have a slave chip, any more, or a threat of beatings hanging over him every day, but on Tatooine he'd had his mother. He'd had friends. Here he has no one.

Well. Supposedly he's supposed to have Obi-wan. But with every passing day Obi-wan seems to become more and more of a ghost haunting his own quarters. He rarely speaks or eats, and seems to spend most if not all of his time locked up in his room meditating. He only talks to Anakin to pass on criticisms from his teacher or ask a half-hearted "how was your day".

"You lied," he says again, then heads back to his quarters alone. Tomorrow he'll have to think up a route to avoid Jera and the others. He'll have to figure out how to get replacements for his missing books and broken saber without getting in trouble with the quartermaster. And he'll have to figure out what he had written on his last assignment that had gotten him in so much trouble with the Masters.

He looks back as he shuts the door behind him.

Obi-wan still doesn't wake.

Day Thirteen, Roof

#halloweenadvent #daythirteen #halloweenpopadvent #halloween #halloweenadventcalendar #funkopops #funkos #hannibal #tinywillgraham #willgraham #pumpkins #hannibalpopadvent https://www.instagram.com/p/CGTGhX5lokQ/?igshid=1fqygwofg0v22

Oh My Goodness

Transparent thinks thee Yet into space winds flee Considering unbelievable waste Hind legs go rapidly greet grate

Prepare understanding for cheeks Weak are pinched and have sheets Leak once another happy deed Lips have a time for moment we’d

Follow.

It’s just a wish. 

Plundering hopelessly...

Day 13 'Windows' in graphite pencil #30daysketchbookchallenge2020 #daythirteen #window #graphitedrawing https://www.instagram.com/p/B7RsckaFF38/?igshid=1mrth3kdfvjgx

Went with a Phoenix for ash. So here’s my inktober day thirteen (13). We’ll be late getting caught up, sorry.

-Kyi

Playing #inktober catch up because I was busy packing and then vacation and then just busy. But today and yesterday's sketches are done. Day 11 may be a lost cause, I started roughing it out but it's already too far gone. Anyway, #dragon for #DayTwelve and had to go full Welsh #corgi dragon! 🐲 And a cute peacock #spider 🦚🕷 for #DayThirteen, though hastily done and not quite cute anymore. Hopefully I can keep up during the week.🤔 #art #inktober2019 #pencilandink #tombowmarkers #pencil #sketch #fabercastellpens #drawing #doodle #sketchbook #drawingchallenge #catchup #corgiaddict #ink #artstuff #vacationsketches (at Bar Harbor, Maine) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3lVmooJYC7/?igshid=172bcp8h2r222

13. DECORATION Tis the season! #onephotoaday #december #challenge #daythirteen https://www.instagram.com/p/BrWNk2InInm/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=l0e0hd5yiydh

#hitrecord for day 13 titled Disquiet. I'm still working on catching up. . Sometimes there's this Unease In my stomach And I'm not sure where It comes from Only that it sits a while Pulls me down And waits till morn To dissipate @hitrecordjoe #poetry #poem #poet #poetsofinstagram #originalpoem #freeverse #writing #writersofinstagram #poemeveryday #nationalpoetrymonth #ped #pedday13 #daythirteen #poems https://www.instagram.com/p/BwR3VkXDRK4/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=xxljhqpc6tlw

133/365 Early spring vibes. #mayphotochallenge #daythirteen https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm5fZw5Nxhi/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#inktober #inktober2018 #daythirteen G.I. Joe Laser Rifle Trooper Flash #gijoe #flash #hasbro (at Mooresville, North Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo4YznTn7ex/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=z75opehx5jcf

Extortion

Dragon Age 2 Raleigh Samson x Lyrium. His OTP Samson deals with poor Feynriel, whilst his lyrium supplies deals with him. Written for @chaos-company‘s Angstpril 2022, Day 13 - Never Enough (On AO3 here) ==========================

“Y-you can’t be serious! How am I meant to pay that? Please!” It was a sad tale. They often were. The kid was still young, a year or two shy of facing his Harrowing, had he lived in the Circle. But, he had not, and that there was the crux of their potential transactional understanding, much though the likelihood of an arrangement between them appeared to be dwindling along with the sparse coin in their respective pockets. The lad looked human but he fancied himself an elf: a half breed, then. As Samson had told him, there was no pity discount for being elven, even if you had the ears to prove it.

"Look, kid, that’s what the service costs,” Raleigh repeated, hardening himself to the lost look on the half-rabbit’s face. “There's bribes, transport. I ain't a bleedin’ bottomless pit - I've got my expenses to cover.”

"But I don't have that much!”

The lad looked desperate. They always did. Samson was still waiting for this part to start getting easier. "Sorry, friend - that's how it is. This ain't a charity, it’s a business."

Ending a fruitless negotiation often took more time and effort than closing a successful deal, and it would leave Samson as empty-handed as this Feynriel. Where was the compassion for that fact, eh? 

The pair had met in one of the many easily broken into warehouses in Lowtown, spacious and damp, smelling forever of fish no matter the current cargo. A good place to feel forgotten in.

Just as he was hoping he'd gotten past the worst of this arm's length execution, the boy went and did just about the worst thing he could do to Raleigh at this stage; he could have gotten angry, could have tried bargaining, could have continued to beg, but no - he gave up hope. The energy sagged from him, his shoulders drooping as those wild, panic-stricken eyes became dull. “They told me you’d help…” Samson closed his own eyes, exhaling, attempting to pass the sound off as impatience. He wanted to shake the boy, to tell him to have more tooth, more bite. The pitiful display continued, however, Feynriel uttering words that should have been winged by terror, but were only defeated. Samson crushed a fist around his heart, muttering promises to it that this would all be forgot, like so much else: he just needed to afford the cure. "They won’t just take me in…They'll make me tranquil. You don't know what it's like in there."

Samson's eyes were open, now, but they couldn't leave the floor. Too much was forcing them down, a hand of shame on the back of his neck.

"...I do, kid…" His voice, always gruff, was barely audible as he breathed that confession. Some seconds passed, dragging heavily on him as he summoned the strength to say what needed to follow next. "... But that don't change facts. I don't like to say it, but if I help one for free, they'll all ask me. I can't do that." “But I don’t have any options…" Feynriel wasn't trying to fight: Samson could tell. He didn't have hope to spare in places he now knew it would be dashed. And yet, Samson had to admire, even as he was subjected to it, that the lad would not go silently as he was condemned. His words, small and forlorn though they were, were all they had, and he spoke them. "You don’t understand.” Slowly, Samson raised his gaze and fixed the half-elf with it, a starved animal with what felt like a collar and chain at his throat. Irony was never a pretty thing.

-

He was starting to sweat. He’d known from the moment he’d walked in that today wasn’t going to be an easy buy. Something had shifted, and not for the first time. Ceaphus had a way about him tonight: the ex-templar may not have been as sharp as he used to be, but one of his old talents that still clung on was the ability to read a room. The price had gone up by almost half. Shipping fees, import bribes, new forms to forge, et cetera. Samson had the feeling the list could have gone on indefinitely, waiting only for his face to fall to signal an end to the artificial parade. Ceaphus was an unappealing visage, even when he wasn't bearing bad news. Not that Samson was a picnic himself these days: one was what they peddled. The man was always quick with a “me old china” upon seeing him, but those yellowing eyes of his were void of feeling. Samson’s desperation was blood in the water, his money the chum. “You can’t be serious.” “Raaaleigh, darlin’. It is what it is! I can’t change it, even if I wanted to." Even if. The implication being, 'And I don't'. Samson watched the cracks and overlaps in the man's teeth with a repelled fascination as an unconvincing grin twisted across his pock-marked face. "Go to the dwarves if you don't like it."

Samson gritted his teeth, attempting to bite back on his anger. He couldn't afford it. Any anger now would end everything, even if the reaction was justified. 'Justice' was just another piece of contraband held at the Kirkwall gates. "You know I can't  -" he urged, attempting to sound level even from this lower ground.

"Not my fault you got yourself black-balled. Got to watch those little moods of yours around us notable folk.” "I’m a good customer, you fucker!" The addict lunged forwards, hands slamming against the barrel currently serving as a desk, spit and rabid desperation landing against his supplier's face. Without a blink, Ceaphus produced an unsavory handkerchief and wiped his skin clean. “Now what did I just say?" His voice was brimming over with satisfaction. "Just for that, I’m adding another sovereign.” Distress had taken hold of Samson. His eyes wheeled, roved, searching for some way out of this, some bargain or promise. Fury and panic clouded any avenues he might have scoped, his thoughts too consumed with the ever-trickling sand waning between now and when he would need the hit. He only had so many hours: he didn't have the luxury of time to be jerked around.

"Look, I want to help you Samson, I do." The dishonest coo went down none the easier for its saccharine tone. "I hate to see a man suffer. But be kind - have some compassion! I've got to pay my way. Lyrium ain't cheap, you know. And the boys in red take their share." 

Samson eyeballed the man, wondering whether lunging at him would remove the venom from the sting of those painfully obvious statements. He also wondered how much lyrium Ceaphus had on him right now - how much could he find stashed behind some key or clue in his pockets? How long would the hoard last him until he needed a new contact…? And where would he find one, with that particular blood on his hands?

If the man could read his thoughts, he seemed unphased by them. Samson would be back with the money - they both knew it. Again, that repulsive smile leered, delighting in his hopelessness. "Come back when you’re not wasting my time, eh?" 

- Samson glared at the kid. A part of him wanted to help - it really did. The Knight-Commander was on a slippery slope that was taking her far from Andraste’s skirts, and she was dragging her pet goon with her. Without either of them thinking clearly, the rest of the Order would be powerless to be humane, even in the rare cases where they wanted to. The lad's future wasn't bright. But, that really wasn't Samson's problem any more, was it? He has his own.

“If you knew how much you lot had cost me, lad," he growled, fists curled simply to keep the shakes at bay. "You’d thank me for the discount. Get out.”

A mouse, and something more Radiant ... Day 13 The Lego Star Wars Christmas Advent Calendar 2019 (Mercury) & 2020 (Maige) Editions #lego #starwars #christmas #adventcalendar #daythirteen #thewizniakboys (at Wizzo's Home) https://www.instagram.com/p/CI7PjkxpgAQ/?igshid=118k5nv92rqpn

#hannibaladventcalendar #daythirteen #hannibal #tinyhanniballecter #hanniballecter #thesilenceofthelambs #hannibaladvent #advent #adventcalendar #hannibalobsessed #funkopops #funkos #christmas https://www.instagram.com/p/B6BK9XVFPuB/?igshid=15n0rx2m9647c