#Blue Flat Iris

[shotmrmiller]

Mistress.

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB!Reader

TW: femdom! reader, slight degradation?, complete and utter submission, masturbation

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a hulking giant of a man, a solid figure of authority on base and the reaper itself on the field, passing through the enemy like smoke, taking their lives with him— had a big secret. To find out, even by chance, is a death sentence.

Simon on leave always went home to an empty flat. He just doesn't have the time to meet anyone, and he figures no one would want to have a relationship with someone who leaves for months on end and with little to no communication. But that didn't mean he did not want someone to spoil. Shower them with gifts and the money he accumulated over years of serving because he never had any time to spend it on anything other than basic necessities.

So once he was home, he indulged in his secret. His Mistress. You.

Sending £800 to your bank account, he sent a text.

'I'm home, Mistress.'

A reply, minutes later.

'You paid your tribute. I'll indulge you just this once, but you ought to remember we work on my schedule, not yours.'

'Of course, my Mistress. I humbly apologize.'

'I will be there in 30. You will not make me wait at the door.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

The Lieutenant was always overlooking something or someone on base, so you were perfect for him. You demanded complete control, and if not given, you took it regardless— and nothing was sweeter than having such a large man submit to you and only you.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You arrived outside his door, and without knocking just said, 'Simon.'

The front door was opened almost immediately, and you were greeted with Simon on his knees — you'll never get over how delicious he looks submitting to you even though he's so tall his head reaches your hipbones and you're in heels — with a collar already on his neck and the leash's handle on his raised palm. You step inside and watch him close the door.

'Good boy,' you murmur as you take the handle, 'Look at me.'

He lifts his head as you look down at him and you see his blue eyes soften at your outfit— which you'll never admit you purposefully put on, knowing it's his favorite based on past meetings.

You're wearing a pink latex corset dress with the laces tied tight on the entire back of the dress and the length of the dress reaches your upper thigh. For stockings, you have petal pink, sheer stay-ups, and your shoes are 'So Kate' 120mm in the same rosy color— and to finish the look, you've got on a long, black a-line wool coat that you're currently taking off and putting on the coat hanger by the front door.

Leash in hand, you walk towards the leather couch, hearing Simon's jeans dragging on his carpet as he crawls behind you before you turn and sit, crossing your legs.

"Permission to take your heels off, Goddess."

"Permission granted. You know what to do."

He takes your dainty foot in both his hands and presses his lips on your ankle, before moving on to the bridge of your foot. Squeezing the counter of your heel, he pulls it, and your toes slip from the shoebox— he gives a pathetic moan at the sight of your stocking-covered, white nail-polished toes.

Removing your other heel, he grabs both of your feet and places them flat on the floor before, still kneeling, he lowers his head to worship you, peppering kisses anywhere he can put his lips on.

You extend your toes and press them to his forehead, pushing him back up and away from you.

"That's enough."

He immediately kneels back on his haunches, and you look at his face to take in his body language. Pupils so large his iris is a thin blue ring, cheeks red and blotchy, mouth slightly agape as he let out shuddering wispy breaths.

Yanking on his collar, you open your legs and pull him to slot in between them. How his torso blankets your entire body makes your toes curl— and that he's still in a submissive pose and still massive makes your walls clench.

Simon, biting his lower lip, lets out a loud groan— gripping the side of the sofa cushions by your knees as his eyes gaze directly to the apex of your thighs. Right to your unclothed quim. Simon is the only sub that's ever seen you in any state of undress. He's the only one you'd fuck straight into his mattress if he begged, and he never looked so good than when he's begging you for attention.

You entangle your fingers into his ash-brown hair and pull, hard, to make eye contact and say, 'The next time you stare at anything other than my eyes without my explicit permission and I walk. I'll drain your bank account of every single pound and you'll thank me for it before I cut off all contact. This is your first and last warning."

Simon whimpers a pitiful little noise before jerking his head in an aggressive nod.

"Yes, my mistress."

You yank on his hair hard enough to wiggle his head a little and loudly say,

"Yes, my mistress what???"

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing, and proclaims, " Yes, my mistress. I am wholly unworthy of your beautiful gift. I deserve absolutely nothing from you."

Biting your lip, you let go of his hair and drag it down towards his jaw to softly cup his cheek.

In a faint, caressing voice you say, "Good boy. Staying in your place is easy once you're reminded of it."

You recline back, shift your eyes down to the monstrous bulge in Simon's pants before pressing your whole foot against his erection— noticing how there's still about 3 inches that your foot doesn't cover, jesus christ—

"What's this, then?", and you push your foot harder into him, and Simon gives a low moan, from deep in his chest— and he lowers his head, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open.

"Well? I asked a question and I did say it in english."

Simon raises his head and his eyes are glossy, scar across the corner of his upper lip whitening with how he thins them before answering.

"Oh, my Mistress, my Queen. I'm just so happy you're here, giving me your complete attention," and in a quieter, vulnerable tone says, "I missed this. Missed you."

That has your heart pounding against your rib cage. You clench your jaw— you cannot show Simon how exhilarated those words make you. You've been harboring the tiniest crush on Simon, and how could you not? Look at him. 6 foot 4, 320 pounds and he submits so beautifully. You'd ruin him. And with the small feel you've gotten from his cock, he'd definitely ruin you. But not now. Simon deserves a reward for being so good and obedient.

"Go on, pet. Show me how much you've really missed me. For you, I'll permit your release." Only for you.

Hands flying to his zipper, he takes his thick, long length out— what a fucking cock it was too, you can't wait to get your hands on it— he starts stroking it, skin bunching up at the flared head on the upstroke and Simon presses his thumb down on his slit. He lets out a hiss as he starts smearing the pre-come around the head and then smooths out the skin on the way down.

Your arm is stretched out holding your weight as you lean to the side, head tilted and you flick your eyes to Simon's face and you startle— Simon's holding direct eye contact, tongue wetting his bottom lip and you can feel heat radiating from your cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

You don't look away though. You stare right into his eyes as the room starts to fill with faster paced, wet, skin slapping noises— and Simon's eyes roll to the back of his head as his eyes close and you look back down to his cock, so hard, swollen red and slippery with his pre-come.

You can hear his teeth grinding together, shoulders stiffening and tattooed forearm vascular with how tight he's squeezing his cock and he chokes out, "Please, Mistress. Let me come, let me come, I'm so close—god"

" Come for your Mistress, Simon. Be a good boy and come for me."

Simon moans loud as his back bows forward and he encircles your ankle with his hand to stabilize himself as his length spurts rope after rope of thick cum inches from your toes— continuously stroking himself through the aftershocks and into oversensitivity.

He puts both palms flat on the floor as he gulps in big shaky breaths, arms trembling slightly. You stand up, carefully stepping around his come, and slip into your heels. Simon raises his head to look at you and— look at that simple, empty expression. You want to sit on that face 'til he repeatedly taps your thick thigh, begging for air— and tell him to clean up his mess. You put on your jacket, close it with the belt and leave.

Your pocket vibrates with a text, and tap the screen to read the text.

Simon: I beg you, my Angel. Let me look at your beautiful pussy as I come, next time.

You: You know what to do.

And then a notification from your bank.

Simon Riley has deposited £4000.

Pressing your phone screen to your chin as hold in a squeal, you cannot wait to get your hands on him.

'Only ever for you.'

A/N: i'd give all the cod boys the gawk gawk without question. at the same time. and valeria can sit on my face til i stop breathing.

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason: Ch2 Remastered

-------------------------------------------------------------- late at night when the stars don't look quite right -------------------------------------------------------------- there's something burning in the empty room inside of my head fill it up with doubt let it in, let it spread

Jason nearly falls flat on his face when he sees the photo of Danny. He’s in a warehouse, finishing up with a gang selling drugs on his turf. The guys he’s got tied up are cursing up a storm at him, throwing every insult under the sun his way that he’s all heard before. His eyes drag over to them, and silently Jason adjusts his jacket to reveal the guns strapped to his thighs, his hand hovering over the handle of one. 

They all fall silent, and Jason moves his hand away. His phone in his other hand, texting Oracle to alert the police. Jason hates that he has to; these guys will be out of their cells in a matter of months, and nothing will change. 

But he’ll play nice. 

And then his phone buzzes, and when Jason looks down he sees a banner from Tim. A message he planned on ignoring, but his eyes skim over the text on instinct, and suddenly the air is stolen right from his lungs, and his thumb is hitting the screen before he can really think it through.

[Hey Jason, your best friend just appeared in Gotham for the first time since your funeral.]

Impossible. He thinks, yanking his phone close to his nose, as if that will make it any less real or fake. Danny hasn’t been in Gotham in years, Jason checked. But then the image loads, and then he’s staring Danny Fenton in the face. And then he’s greedily tracing every minute, new detail he can find. The gang left half-forgotten in his mind.

Danny’s got an undercut, it looks self-done. It looks good. He looks taller. He’s got piercings in his ears, gold and jewels lining up the sides like a magpie’s find. He’s got an eyebrow piercing. 

Something old, something new; Danny is smiling and it still looks just as Jason remembers it. Crooked, lopsided, warm like the sun and belying the mischief underneath it. He remembers to breathe in that moment, and the sound comes in sharp. Danny’s eyes are as blue as they’ve ever been. 

(“I don’ get why books talk so much about peoples’ eyes.” Danny complains to him one day when he’s visiting the manor, his legs thrown over Jason’s back like an anchor tied to its ship. They’re sunk into the mattress of Jason’s bed, sunlight peering through the windows. “They’re just eyes! I don’t need t’know that they’re ‘as blue as the sky,’ or- or the ocean, or whatever blue thing in the world there is.”) 

(Jason’s smile comes to him like breathing, and he twists around to lay on his back. His arms trap Danny’s legs to his stomach. “Pretty sure it’s jus’ for emphasis on how much they’re noticing the person’s face.”)

(Danny’s face scrunches up, and Jason’s smile splits into a grin, heart swelling three sizes on instinct. “I think it’s stupid, s’just some fuckin’ eyes.”)

(“Eyes are windows to the soul, Dan.” Jason retorts, barking out a laugh when Danny gives him a deadpan look. His hands creep for a pillow, one of the soft downy ones wrapped in silk, and he throws it at Danny’s face. “And besides, speak for yourself! Your eyes are the bluest thing I’ve ever seen.”) 

But most importantly, Danny looks tired. 

Hiding is something that comes free with the purchase of living in Gotham, and Danny’s good at hiding things, he always has, but Jason knows him like the palm of his hands. He looks tired, and Jason wants to reach through the screen and ask him why. There’s an age-worn look there, catching in the flint of his iris, where his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Jason gets the ETA from Oracle, then leaves as fast as his legs can carry him and his grappling hook can zip through the air. He needs to see Danny with his own eyes, to confirm himself that Danny was here, and that it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Or that it was Tim playing a cruel joke on him — and if it was, he’ll have to rethink his whole killing thing. 

Gotham’s air is warm and suffocating, but her winds bite at him as he soars through it.

It’s second nature for him to find the west end balcony, and Jason finds himself with his feet locked in place on the building beside it. Grappling hook in hand, and a balloon in his lungs, all swelled up and squishing the air out of him. 

It’s just his luck —with whatever he has left— that Danny is there as well. In the same spot he’s always been, with a cigarette caught between his teeth. He’s stuck halfway, head tilting, eyes closed, with the shadows of Gotham on his back and the light of the gala at his front. 

For a moment, for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Jason thinks Danny’s going to tilt himself back off the side.The thought has him blindly tilting himself forward with his heart in his throat. Hands reaching for his grappling hook, swinging down to drop down beside him.

Danny is staring at him before his feet even hit the ground, face nigh unreadable beyond the small, wary furrow of his brows. Danny’s never looked at him like that before, it feels like  stumbling on the last step of the stairs. 

Then, like fire to black powder something flashes and ignites in Danny’s eyes. Mouth curling, eyes burning, for a moment, just a moment, they’re kids again, getting into fights and turning soft hands punch-rough. Danny looks at Jason like he’s going to tear him to shreds.

Jason’s mouth runs dry like a desert in the summer, but his blood chills in fear cold in his veins. Why are you looking at me like that? His mouth opens, but his tongue is leaden in his throat, and no sound comes out. It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?  

Danny yanks the cigarette from his mouth like it burns him, his free hand gripping onto the railing like it’s the tether to a leash, nails threatening to turn into talons. “Red Hood.” He says, voice low and timbre, smoke dripping from his lips like dragon’s breath.  

Oh.

That’s right. Jason suffocates on his heart as it sinks and soars with relief. Danny doesn’t know it’s him. In his tunnel vision, he forgot that simple, easy fact. It’s not because it’s Jason that he’s angry. It still doesn’t explain, though, why Danny looks at him like he ought to sink his teeth into his throat and rip him open. 

He’s half-distracted by that, and then distracted by the need to drink in the sight of Danny again. A photo is one thing; the real person is another, and with his fear subsiding, Jason rakes his eyes over his best friend and swallows him whole. His eyes are bluer in person, his memory and Tim’s photo doesn’t do them justice, and Danny inherited his dad’s height. He’s gotten so tall. They both have. They both used to be such scrawny kids. 

So distracted is he, that he forgets to respond to Danny, to say anything. Not until Danny tries to dismiss himself, and Jason kickstarts into gear. White hot panic fills in his lungs, burning him up like magma. No, no, no, he’s moving without thinking, always when he’s with him, and he nearly latches onto Danny. Nearly wraps his hands around his arm to hold him in place. Don’t leave. You’re finally here; don’t go. 

Danny stays, but he stares at Jason’s reaching hands like he’ll bite them off, stares at Jason with his eyes burning, watchful. Jason’s excuse is lousy and he knows it, but he wants, wants, wants to stay and figure out every new thing about Danny. 

And he feels like he’s losing something. Time bleeds together beside him and Jason feels trapped behind a glass wall of his own making. Something old, something new. The distance of which Danny keeps him at is foreign to him. He hates it. 

Tell me everything, he thinks, because he can’t find the words to say it. He hands Danny a cigarette instead, and hopes that it’s enough. Tell me everything and more, tell me what I’ve missed. 

In the end, he still feels like he’s losing something, but he also feels like he’s missing something. Answers that are water, and that water is slipping through his fingers. Danny leaves him with more questions than answers; something that’s never happened before, and Jason watches him walk back inside with a spinning mind. 

What do you mean you spoke to my ghost?

I told you that the Joker killed me?

Have I told you anything else? Have I already told you everything I’ve wanted to?

What happened while I was gone? 

Is that why you’re scarred?

Because Jason isn’t blind, he’s never been. Not in Crime Alley, not as Robin, not now. And not when it comes to his best friend. He sees the silver lightning scars ripped jagged up Danny’s arm, sees that they disappear under his sleeves. He saw, faded as they were, invisible until the light hit right, as they spread like tree roots up his throat and across the side of his face.

Scars that Danny’s never had before. Scars he didn’t have when Jason was alive the first time. Scars he didn’t have the last time Jason saw him. Or — what he remembers to be the last time he saw him, because apparently he saw him as a ghost. He sees the curve of his ears and how they point more than a human’s should, he saw the glint of his canines, sharper than they should be; sharper than he remembers. Metaphorical fangs turned real.   

Jason should’ve asked where he got them from, should’ve taken Danny by the front of his collar and stopped him from leaving. Who did this to you? He should have said, a fire burning in his chest and wrapping around his throat, pulling his voice into a snarl. He should have said, his guns weighing heavy on his sides; Who did it. I’ll take care of it. Just tell me who. Tell me everything. 

Instead, something crawled into his mouth and died, and his tongue is glued to the roof of it. And he doesn’t say anything, because saying something means telling his best friend who he is. It means having to take off his helmet and mask. It means telling his best friend that he’s alive, that he has been. That despite being two halves of a whole, Jason spent five years letting him think he was dead. 

He can’t tell him, not when he’s in too deep already. Not when Jason is so unrecognizable to who he used to be that if he told him, Danny would hate him.

And Danny is still grieving him. So plain as day mourning, still angry over his death. Angry enough that he wants the Joker dead, angry enough that he wants to hang the noose and kick the chair out himself. 

Jason wishes he told him that he looks tired. 

Instead he’s standing alone on the balcony, trying to get his thoughts in order as music blares muffled through the gold-light door. He’s left staring at the crushed cigarette laying on the ground, Gotham’s ambience at his back and a poem hanging in the air that he has no words for. It’s already there. Like stars on a painted ceiling.

And there are so many questions he needs answers for. 

Like his ghost. His ghost.

What did Danny mean by his ghost? 

Does he really want to kill the Joker himself? Was it just the grief talking? Jason knows — or thinks he knows — Danny like the palm of his hands. He’s been through everything with him, he’s seen him say something and then immediately follow through with it. He knows when he’s being serious, he knows when he’s not. 

Danny wants to kill the Joker. Stealing is one thing; murder is another. And Danny wore a look on his face that looked like he meant it when he told Red Hood that he wanted to kill Joker. But saying and doing are two different things. Jason doesn’t know what to think.  

Something old, something new. Danny is still the same, and yet he’s changed so much. 

What did Danny mean by his ghost? 

Jason doesn’t ever remember being a ghost. But Danny knows the Joker killed him. He knows how he killed him. Danny’s parents are ghost scientists, and Jason remembers the letter he got one day telling him about the portal they were building in the basement. 

He remembers thinking about telling Bruce — this was something beyond the glowing green samples stored in the fridge, giving life to the food inside. This was beyond the weapons, the inventions they made that only saw the light of day when the Drs. Fenton brought them up to showcase them.

And he didn’t, because if he hadn’t told Bruce about everything before, he wasn’t going to start. He admits, it was part fear that Bruce might intervene and prevent him from seeing Danny that he didn’t.  

Neither of them had expected it to work — but it sounds like it did. 

(Jason has avoided Amity Park for a reason. He knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going there if he didn’t. But now, he just might have to look into it. He’s missed too much.) 

And Danny wants to kill the Joker, and Jason isn’t sure if he means it or not. Because the look on his face when he said it is oh-so familiar. It’s the one he wore when he needed Jason to distract the clerk while he snuck behind the counter to steal cigarettes from the shelves. It was the one he wore when an older kid cornered them near one of Gotham’s many alleys, threatening them over something Jason can no longer remember clearly. 

(He remembers puffing himself up, rearing for a fight. Danny, with glass in his teeth and blood between his fingers, lands a square kick to the spot between the kid’s legs. His knees hit the ground, and Danny’s hand found Jason’s to drag them both out of there.)

It’s the look of a boy, Gotham-touched grime in his soul, soft fingers turned calloused and scarred, about to do something he’s not going to regret. It’s the look of a boy that has set his mind to something and is going to do it. Some might call it the eyes of a cornered animal, but Danny’s never been cornered, not when Jason’s been with him. 

(But Jason hasn’t been with him. Not for the last five years. So can he really say it wasn’t the eyes of a cornered animal?...Yes.) 

Jason gets off the balcony before he can be seen, and he shouldn’t, but he loiters. He should get back to patrol, the night is never over. Not in Gotham. But he stays, hidden atop the roof nearby.

—---------------

An hour later, Danny walks out the doors with a man Jason recognizes as Vlad Masters — another new mystery for him to uncover. The paparazzi have long since left. Gotham’s nights are dangerous and everyone knows that, not even the vultures would stick around for a scoop, not unless there was something worth seeing. 

A black limousine pulls up beside them, and Masters walks around the back to reach the other side. He’s bristled like an angry cat. “I thought I told you not to embarrass me.” He hisses, eyes snake-narrowed.

Danny, for the most part, just looks unbothered, his hands shoved into his pockets without a care. But he narrows his eyes right back, an expression made of stone. “You have a pretty low bar for what you think is embarrassing.” 

Masters just scowls, “I don’t understand you, I would have thought you’d spend the whole time mingling with the Waynes, badger.” He says. Danny ruffles at the nickname, lips curling into a snarl. Jason finds himself unconsciously mimicking him. “And yet, I find you sequestered away in the corner like a little fly on the wall. Were they not up to your standards?”  

‘Sequestered’ Danny mouths mockingly, eyes burning like he was going to claw his hand down Masters’ face. Instead, his hands dig into his arms. “I did talk to them, that’s more than I can say for you. You couldn’t even keep Mister Wayne’s attention for more than a minute.”  

Jason frowns, and Masters scoffs, puffing up like an owl with its ego bruised. “Regardless, I am not the one losing here. Or did you forget what you promised me?” 

Jason’s frown deepens. Danny doesn’t promise anything. At least, he doesn’t promise with just anyone. He deals; he repays; he indebts. But he does not promise. Promises were power, with only one side benefiting. It was trust to promise someone something. Danny doesn’t trust easily, neither of them do.

Something that hasn’t changed. Danny rears up angrily, mouth twisting, teeth baring, snarling out a fury sound. A wire cut live and sparking. He grabs the door handle and yanks it open harshly. “I didn’t promise you anything, Vlad.” He hisses, Jason strains to hear him. “I offered and you agreed. Do not fucking twist my words.” 

There it is. Jason should’ve known better, guilt string-plucking in his chest for his doubt. Danny doesn’t promise things; not to people like this Masters guy, at least. 

Danny grabs something from the car and throws himself back. “Don’t wait up.” He snarls, a wild thing just as Jason is, and yanks on a red hoodie over his arms. It zips up, and hangs off him, smothering the vest and button-up beneath. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” 

Then he slams the door shut, shoulders hunched and with a scowl carved into his face. They’re both made of broken glass; independence — disobedience — and rebellion cut into them from every broken beer bottle shattered on the streets.

(Jason makes a mental note to look into Vlad Masters — Danny’s never told him about him, so they must have met after he died. The man leaves a rot in Jason’s mouth, and there is a greed festering inside him that Jason knows has left him in decay.)

(He doesn’t like how close Masters acts with him, doesn’t like the affiliations between them both. Masters reminds him of Luthor and every other rich socialite with their hands in something dirty. He hates even more that Danny is making deals with him. What has he missed?)  

Jason follows after Danny, partially concerned that Danny is wandering Gotham alone. Regardless of what he can do, Gotham is still dangerous. It is bone-rotting, lung-choking and unforgiving. Danny knows this, Jason knows he does. He’s partially curious to know just where he’s going, and whether or not it was important enough to visit in the dead of Gotham’s bloody nights.

Danny surprises him — slipping between alleyways, sticking close to the shadows. Someone taught him how to be stealthy — or, at least, refined what stealth Danny already had. More new things that Jason needs to learn. More things he will never get to know. 

Who taught you that? 

Just what, exactly, have I missed?

I want to know everything. 

Five years is a long, long time to be away from someone. If a caterpillar can become a butterfly in two weeks, then what can five years do to a human? It’s a long time to change, to become something else entirely. Jason’s become someone new, and he thinks, so has Danny. 

Dread pools in his ribs, into his lungs, and weighs heavy on his heartstrings. The urge to drop down in front of Danny, to grab him by the arms and ask him to tell him everything, returns with a vengeance. This is why he avoided Amity Park. 

Will I still know you like I used to? Jason trails behind Danny from the rooftops, like a ghost. Do you still love the stars? Do you still take tea over coffee? Will you tell me, if I ask? 

And if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t ask, like he isn’t right now? 

If he doesn’t ask about his ghost — something that still boggles his mind, because it means the Fentons were right and that portal might have worked, and Danny found Jason’s ghost? If he doesn’t ask what his ghost told him, if he told him anything else? Did his ghost tell you that he was Robin, like he always wanted to?  

He will just have to keep his questions to himself. He will just have to tuck them into a folder in his mind, and file it under all of his other regrets.  

He feels like he’s Robin again; keeping secrets and hiding things from his best friend because it simply wasn’t safe enough for him to know. It’s maddening.  

Why has nothing changed since he died? Why has nothing changed, now that he was alive?

—---------------

Danny leads him to the Gotham Cemetery. Jason freezes outside the gates. Oh, he thinks.

Oh.

He thinks back to what he thought earlier. 

What could possibly be so important that he’d go to it in the dead of Gotham’s night? The cemetery. Of course. Something old, something new, something bittersweet sets over his tongue that he swallows down. 

Jason forces himself to follow. 

“Hey.” Danny says as Jason settles behind a tree, voice gentle in foreign familiarity. He’s standing at Jason’s grave, his hands shoved into his pockets. The light is low but it doesn’t stop Jason from seeing the starlight-soft look in Danny’s eyes and his half-tilted smile, the smile that Jason is more familiar with than the wary scowls. “Sorry I’m late.”

Guiltish misery wraps its hands around Jason’s lungs. Pin-prickingly, stabbing at his heartstrings, Jason’s mouth moves on its own; “It’s okay.” but no sound comes out. Danny doesn’t hear him, and neither does Jason himself.  

Danny sits down before Jason’s tombstone, groaning low and tiredly as his legs fold beneath him. He’s older than Jason, and immediately his mind switches over to all the jokes he used to lob him with. 

(“Need help crossing the street, old man?” Jason, eight years old, asks with a grin so wide and painful across his face; giggles in his chest. He hooks his elbow with Danny, and keeps him tight against his ribs. “You’ll need all the help you can get in your ancient age.”)

(“I’m not that old.” Danny says, glaring at him before they scurry across the street with the light still green. Traffic laws are a joke in Crime Alley, it’s like a game of frogger as the sound of honking horns and screeching tires follows their heels. “We’re six months apart!”)

(“Six months and four days, actually.” Jason corrects when they reach the other side, snickering as they race down the sidewalk. Drivers lean out their windows and curse them out as they get away, Danny dodges an empty soda can thrown at his head. “Can’t forget the four days.”)

“I would’ve come sooner.” Danny tells him, pulling him from child-fuzzy memories and back into reality. Jason peers around the tree to see him running a hand through his hair, head ducked down. His palm splaying against his neck. “Sorry I didn’t. I got scared.” 

Scared? Jason blinks, he leans against the bark and bumps his helmet against the wood. The thunk is loud in his ears, but Danny makes no indication that he heard. Of what? 

But Danny doesn’t say what, he drops his hand and glances off to the side. He sits like a man who isn’t quite sure what to do, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes scrunched. Grief carves into the lines of his face like a sculptor carving into marble. 

“I was gonna get you flowers on my way here.” Danny continues. His voice cracks, begins to wobble, and Jason sees Danny’s jaw tighten and his eyes close for a moment. When they open, there’s a wobbling sheen on his bottom lashes; tears threatening to bleed.   

Danny flicks at the tears with the nail of his thumb, it does nothing. It just makes his breath hitch. “Um, but they- uh, didn’t have any open on the way here.” He says, giving Jason’s grave a tremulous smile. “Sorry, I’ll make sure to pick some up on my next visit.”   

Next visit. Jason’s heart squeezes uncomfortably, before he reels at the words. Danny’s going to be visiting again, after five years of being out of Gotham? Next visit, why are you visiting again? Was this the reason he came to Bruce’s little charity ball with Vlad Masters? So that he could come visit Jason’s grave?

It couldn’t have been. There are other ways to get to Gotham that don’t require making deals with shady rich men. Danny’s smart, smarter than Danny himself gives him credit for. He’s brilliant. Why did he need Masters’ help to get him to Gotham?

There had to be another reason why.

God, there were so many questions that Jason wants the answers to. He’ll find them, one way or another. 

But, he focuses in again. Danny is only here for the night. One night, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. Jason wants to commit every detail of his best friend to memory before he leaves. 

“You like zinnias, right?” Danny pets the grass at his side absently, and yes. Yes, Jason does, and Danny remembers. Even five years from his death, he remembers. Of course he does. 

“Yeah, you do. You used to pick the petals up off the sidewalk from those uh, fuck — the vendors. The Victorian flower language too, I think. Got a book on that somewhere. I’ll get you red an’ yellow ones.” 

Grief traps in Jason’s chest, and he barely tamps down the bitter laugh forcing itself out of the chokehold of his throat. You fucking sap, you big fuckin’ sap.

Red zinnias. Steadfast beating of the heart. The irony. It’s got double the meaning now, now that he’s alive. But Danny doesn’t know that, so the heart that’s beating could only belong to him. But even with Jason alive, he’s hiding. Between the both of them, the only one here with a beating heart is Danny.

(Between the two of them, the only heart here is one that's made between the two of them.)

Yellow zinnias. Daily remembrance. Of course. That doesn’t need any explanation, the writing is right there on the wall. Raised, so that even the blind may read it. It doesn’t need to be said what that means, Jason can hear it on the wind, in the grass, in the trees. His heart crumpling like a rag being twisted out to drain the dirty water soaking in it. 

I miss you.

I miss you. 

I miss you. 

I’m right here. Is what Jason wants to say. It’s what he should say. He should step out from behind the tree; should speak up and say something. To announce his presence. To do something to let Danny know that he’s speaking to someone who is more than a ghost (who feels like one anyways) and a corpse in the ground. 

Here I am. Here I am. HERE I AM.

His feet are gravebound to the dirt, his tongue cut out of his mouth and shoved into a jar. He feels, in some way, like he’s clawing out of his own grave again, but the dirt keeps falling and his arms are burning. His lungs are filled with more soil than air. He’s not getting out. 

Shame burns cigarette smoke in the back of his throat, shriveling up what little remains of his tar-filled heart. It should be his lungs, and it’s got that too. His feet are grave-bound to the floor.

Danny’s begun to cry, much to Jason’s horror. It should be more incentive for Jason to step out. He doesn’t. His best friend sniffles and scrubs at his face, soaking tears into his hoodie’s sleeve. “I’m sorry for not visitin’ sooner,” he says, voice spiraling with grief, “I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve come sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Don’t be, Jason thinks. Finds himself surprised by the truth of it. He should be upset. Five years and not a single visit. He abandoned him like everyone else. Except he didn’t. 

He’s not upset, he can’t be. Not when Danny’s finally here. Not when he’s still crying over him five years after the fact. Not when he’s going to put flowers on his grave that means he thinks of him daily. Not when Danny knows who killed him and wants him dead. 

Jason isn’t sure of what to think of that still. He wants Bruce to kill the Joker. More importantly he wants change in Gotham. He wants something to be done. He doesn’t know if Danny is being honest or not — and honesty doesn’t mean anything if someone doesn’t act on it.  

Danny continues talking to his grave, his voice full with sorrow. He talks about the gala, about running into Bruce and talking to him again. 

Jason listens in dutiful silence, soaking in Danny’s voice like a sponge. This is what he was expecting on the balcony; this easy conversation. Except it’s not a conversation, Danny is talking and not expecting a response. Jason feels like a stranger imposing on his own grave.He should slink away, let Danny have his peace on his own.

He refuses to move. He can’t bring himself to.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he's sitting in front of him. He can pretend he’s thirteen again, with him and Danny crawled under the bed at the manor and trading all the stories they couldn’t fit in their letters. Danny tells him about another fight he had with Dash Baxter, eyes rolling but smug teeth flashing in a stifled smile. Then he tells him about something Sam and Tucker did; about one of Sam’s protests she led against the biology lab, and Tucker coding his PDA to play Doom. Easy, stupid middle schooler shit.

They’d sneak out to the balcony for their vices, Danny clutching a carton of cheap cigarettes in hand. Alfred always finds the ones Jason hides, so they usually share whenever Danny comes to visit. Jason tells him about Gotham Academy, about the people there and the classes. Prep school is another beast entirely, he likes seeing Danny’s reactions to the politics that goes on inside. 

Or, further back, they’re eight again, climbing a rickety fire escape to the rooftop and hanging their feet over the edge to find Batman and Robin. Danny was in the lead before he left for Amity Park. Jason remembers it clearly; they’d spent all night outside on that rooftop. 

Jason doesn’t close his eyes.

Jazz decided to change career goals; psychology’s become more of a hobby for her, and she’s going to go to med school instead. She’s thinking of doing an internship in Metropolis. Danny says he’s glad that it’s not Gotham, and when he told Jazz this, she laughed at him and told him that she was going to save that for later. 

She’s Gotham-touched too, she knows it’s blood just as much as Danny does. She wants to help the people there, but knows what Gotham’s like. She knows what she can and cannot do. Determination doesn’t equate skill, it just means the willingness to learn. 

Sam is staying in Amity Park and doing online classes for college, but Tucker got a full ride scholarship in software engineering. Danny’s thick with pride as he tells Jason’s headstone. Jason’s happy for him — they weren’t close, not like he and Danny were, but they were still friends. 

Jason soaks it all in; tell him more. He wants to know everything. 

"I don't know what I want to do." Danny says when he’s finally done talking about everyone else, his chin laying on his knees. “S’not like I can be an astronaut anymore, but there’s not anything I can see myself doing.”

The corner of his mouth coils, sardonic. “I’ve had five years to come up with somethin’ new, and I’ve come up with nothin’ at all.” He huffs. It’s a rough, bitter sound. Gotham has been steadily seeping back into his voice since he arrived in the graveyard, and now it comes out thick, like it never left. 

Danny’s face falls slack, like a puppet losing its strings, and he sinks into himself. “I guess I…” He exhales slow. “I’ve just been distracted.” A faraway glaze eclipses his eyes, and before they close, tears begin to bleed onto his eyelids. Again, grief mars the lines of his skin, settling into the curve of his mouth and threading between his brows like second nature.

Fuck, it’d be so easy for Jason to just step out. Move. His best friend is grieving. He could save him the pain of it and tell him now. Move, move, move. 

He doesn’t move.

For a while, there’s nothing but silence, just Jason hiding in his shame; a rat on the street would be bolder than him. Danny’s eyes don’t open. Eventually, his head tilts and slumps into his knees, Jason almost thinks, somehow, that he’s fallen asleep — but Danny’s hand threads into the hair on the back of his head, his finger beginning to tap an invisible beat into his skull. 

It’s the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. Danny’s distracted; lost in his thoughts. He won’t notice if Jason slinks off now. He could go and hide away on a roof nearby, ensuring that Danny gets his rightful privacy without leaving him to the teeth of the streets.  

Jason still doesn’t move. 

Danny begins to hum. It’s a low, breathy sound, and it shakes unevenly. There’s no discernible melody, but a breeze picks it up and travels it through the air anyway, rooting Jason to his spot. His throat swells, and his back sinks into the bark behind him. 

For a full minute, maybe two, Danny just hums. It’s a simple tune, but it fills the graveyard with the sound. When it goes up, he sharpens, when he goes down again, it flats, and sometimes it wobbles.  

When he lifts his head, when he finally opens his eyes, he’s still humming. Soon it dies down, and the next time Danny exhales, it comes out tumultuous and slow. His hand slips heavy from his head and drops into the grass. 

“Where’d you go, Jay?” Danny mutters, and despite his voice coming flat, he still sounds so tired. Danny’s eyes flick up, lifting off the grass to burn into the headstone. He’s not even looking at him, and yet Jason still freezes up, he still feels pinned under the weight of his stare. “I know you’re still out there, somewhere. I know it.” 

Jason breathes in shakily, a sting deep in the back of his throat. He gives no answer; guilt is an animal with claws, and it burrows deep into Jason’s heart to make itself a home between the tendons. He’s right here. 

Silence falls over them again, and this time it’s only the sound of the city around them that bleeds into the air. Danny stares at Jason’s grave, staring like he’s expecting an answer. He doesn’t get one. 

Danny sighs out low, and stands. His knees tremble slightly, and he rubs his sleeve into his eyes, catching the stray tears falling from his lashes. Like breaking a spell, Jason jolts from the fog of sorrow hanging in the air. 

“I’ll see you later, an’ I’ll make sure to bring you those flowers you like.” He tells him, and miraculously, a shadow of a smile flits over Danny’s mouth. “Y’better be here when I get back, alright? I’ll kick y’fucking ass if you’re not.” 

Jason bites back a huff, his mouth upturning in a wobble. I will, he thinks, and watches Danny trail out of the graveyard with his hands in his pockets. He waits until he’s disappeared behind the gate before following.   

Guilt is a thing with claws, and Jason leaves the cemetery with it eating his tongue. But he makes sure Danny gets back to his hotel safe before he slinks back to Crime Alley; he might not be a ghost anymore, but he can still trail behind Danny like he is. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ayy i finally got chapter 2 of CFAU/TMWS edited/redone! It had to get rewritten because a lot of stuff became obsolete in the wake of the new chapter 1. and also it just kinda. fucking sucked imo lmao

(you can also read it here on my ao3!)

[when-i-wake-if]

It has been 18 years since humanity was brought to the truth that monsters, creatures and deities they were all too sure were myths are in fact real well most of them anyway with these new realizations comes new mysteries, problems and hope

but dawn (MC 1) never paid too much attention to it but after the death of their father they have been sent reeling the perfect life they had crumbling slowly, forcing them into positions they never would have dreamed of. Their life colliding and slowly meshing into the unknown creature's deeper darker world.

Across the city in a dingy alley badly hurt dusk (MC 2) awakes to no memories other than their name and something they were told that stung like a dagger in their heart for some reason. As Dusk tries to make sense of what is happening, they somehow fall into a rabbit hole of crime, mysteries and dark truths all because they are trying to find out who they are and how they ended up in that alley.

~Customize your MCs looks, gender identity, clothing style and name

~ Choose your legal job! (Dawn starts the game with a certain job but that job doesn't stay long)

~ Make deals that will change the course of your life

~Customize your room and apartment aesthetic style

~As Dawn manage the relationship with your mother, your ex your, past relationship and current feelings about your dead dad. As Dusk unravels your past, try to figure out what happened to you or set it all aside and attempt to make a new life for yourself

~Romance 4 different characters for both MCs and hey if you want to romance a god as one or both MCs!

Dawns ROs

Xeno || Xe/Xem || 21 || Human

"Hellooo how is my favourite co-worker! I brought you your favourite drink, I'm amazing! I know~"

Description ~ Short coily dark brown hair, lean build with a Bronze complexion, dark green eyes, Nubian nose, Xyr height is 5’11, Xe has a full tattoo sleeve on Xes right arm and a tattoo on the side of Xyr neck when outside of work Xeno tends to wear ripped black jeans, no sleeve neck length shirt, runners and a bunch of rings, necklaces and one stud earring.

Selena || She/Her || ?? || Ghost

"Please! Don't be scared I mean you no harm le-let me explain"

Description ~ Shoulder-length ginger hair that is curled at the tips, She has a chubby build and pale skin, greyish blue eyes, a button nose, height if she could stand on the floor would be 5’3, freckles kiss her face and shoulders, she forever dressed in a light blue tea length swing dress and stockings with a pair of black flats, adorned in pearl earrings and necklace, to most she appears slightly translucent

Brier || He/Him or She/Her || Gender selectable|| 228 || Vampire

"Oh, sweetheart, are you okay? Please don't cry. How about a rose? Will that give you back your pretty little smile?"

Description ~ Chin length afro-textured dark brown hair, Slim build and ebony complexion, Dark red eyes, button nose, height 5’7, outside of work they typically wear wide cuff pants, cropped blouse with a sweetheart collar, 4-inch heels or black dress shoes, round glasses, realistic heart shaped earrings, ruby necklace, silver rings

Míng || They/He || 30 || Dragon

"Well, maybe if you watched or read the news more you would know how shitty it is for people who aren't human like you."

Description ~ bleached white shoulder-length hair, lean build light brown complexion, black sclera and piercing yellow iris, flat nose height being 5'7, scales litter their body colours mainly being yellow and orange with some red ones sprinkled in, typically wears graphic tees , with a worn-out black bomber jacket, cargo pants and platform boots

Both MCs

Is || she/her, he/him or they/them || Gender selectable || ??? || Minor God of death {and dreams}

"Is it truly a lie or is it just not the truth you want to hear? Darling, you have so much to learn"

Description~ Long straight black hair that reaches past their ass typically in some kind of intricate hairstyle with silver jewellery woven in, curvy build with a tanned complexion, pale white eyes, roman nose, height 8,5 when not forced to dress modestly they are always wearing a short dress with a marabou robe or a satin robe and six-inch heels, adorned in many silver bracelets, necklaces, rings and flower earrings and they have belly button piercing

Dusks ROs

Sire || He/Him || 26 || Kelpie

"you should watch where you are going around here, kid. Someone will end up killing you if you are not careful"

Description ~ Shoulder length wavy dark green hair so dark it almost appears black Sire's hair always seems to look wet/damp, he has a dad bod and Ivory complexion, black eyes, Greek nose, His height is on the slightly shorter side standing at 5’4, usually wearing black leather pants, dress shoes and a button-up shirt that never fully buttoned up

Loralie || They/Them || 24 || Siren

"you are so adorable. I could eat you up~ how about I buy you a drink gorgeous"

Description ~ Mid back length black goddess braids, Athletic Swimmer build and Dark brown complexion with dark blueish grey scales scattered about, piercing grey eyes, Flat nose, height 6’2, a large scar down the middle of their chest, gills most noticeable upon their neck, outside of work they typically wear cargo pants, muscle shirt, converse shoes, a gold locket, dangle earrings, spectrum piercing

Joshua || He/They || 20 || Werewolf

"Plan?? I never said I had a plan did I? ...oh well I didn't but don't worry I can get us out of this"

Description ~ Short messy dirty blonde hair, muscular build and tan complexion, amber eyes, Greek nose though it has obviously been broken in the past, scar along the right of their jaw, freckles speckled over his face, height 6’0, typically wears work boots, jeans and a muscle shirt with a flannel jacket

Z || She/He/They || ?? || Undead

"pay me back? How about you? Let me eat you and I'll take that as your repayment. I'm quite hungry and you're starting to irritate me"

Description ~ Messy straight chin length black hair with strands of grey hairs throughout, skinny build and pale olive and appears slightly greeny yellowish, black eyes, hawk nose, the height of 5'6 the left corner of her mouth is carved away, revealing most of their teeth and flesh and their left hands pinky and ring finger are just bone the surrounding area seems to have a hideous burn scar though he typically covers it up by wearing white gloves, black turtleneck, beige torn pants and two different pairs of dirty runners

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How do you climb up from rock bottom? What are you willing to do? To sacrifice. To find out the truth, what will you do when you get those truths? What if they aren't what you expected or wanted? Will you help others or push the world aside? how far is too far to achieve your goals?

Demo: TBA || My other IF || Character Portraits: coming soon

[gorgugplushie]

My gift exchange for @froschdoesstuff !! Decided to go with Ayda and a young Garthy since they mentioned how they liked em!!

Gift exchange hosted by @d20exchange : )

[ID: A Digital Drawing of a older Ayda Aguefort and a young Garthy O'Brien. Ayda is a half-Pheonix with dark skin, Multiple eyes with black sclera and red iris with four on her wings, small red and orange feathers that cover her face, neck and arms, winged ears, fire like hair in dreads, orange nails, and red and orange wings that sprout from her back. Ayda is wearing a purple wizards cloak with orange sparkles and stars over a white button down shirt, a long purple skirt with lighter purple stars, and golden rectangle rimmed glasses. Ayda holds a red book in one hand as she reads diligently, she holds Garthy in her right arm, the background is of a wooden bookshelf. Garthy is a Half-Orc Aasimar with green skin, black sclera eyes with golden iris, a brown afro, golden freckles, two short tusks, round floppy orc ears, a small nub tail, two small white wings, and a white halo over their head. Garthy wears white overalls over a blue long sleeved shirt in the first figure, and a teal vest with lighter teal leaf and vine patterns over a white short sleeved shirt and brown pants in the second figures. In the first drawing Garthy looks up curious at Ayda's book, in the second they are flat on their stomach drawing on a wooden floor, and in the third they are proudly showing their drawing to Ayda, who has a speech bubble that says "It's too cute!". The background is tan and rendered to look like paper. /END ID]

[ckao03]

Donnie Color Guide - Pt 2

[Part 1 HERE] This is where we cover the eyes and accessories...

Eyes: Top half of sclera: (Vallejo Model color - 60% Yellow Ochre + 30% White mix) Bottom half: (Vallejo Model Color - Above mix, but with added White) Outline: (Vallejo Model Color - Black)

Iris: Top half: (Vallejo Model Color - Light Grey) Bottom half: (Vallejo Model Color- Black) Outline: (Vallejo Model Color- Black)) [Fun fact: I used the same mix for Leo, but in reverse. His shading is on the bottom] [The blue goop you see is Gaia Notes Masking liquid, but any brand of masking fluid works)

Markings: Shaded area: (Mr Color - 174 Fluorescent Pink + 67 Purple) Can't remember the exact ratio, sorry ): Base color: Above mix + 4-5 drops of Mr Color - 1 White

Accessories: Goggle and Tech Brace: Base color: (Mr Color - 338 Light Gray) Shading: (Mr Color - GX101 Clear Black (Very. Lightly.)) Highlights: (Vallejo Model Color - White. (Also lightly)) Red and Blue Lenses: (Tamiya enamel - XF-7 Red, X-14 Sky Blue) Shine: (Vallejo Model Color - White) Hard Shading on bottom of ear pieces: (Vallejo Model Color - Dark Gray)

Tech Brace screen: Base: (Createx Wicked Color - 50% Fluorescent White + 50% Fluorescent Blue) Edges: (Createx Wicked Color - Fluorescent Blue) [Honestly, just use any light blue/darker blue combo, I just wanted to see if this kind would glow under a blacklight, lol! Maybe Mr Color Sky Blue with Clear Blue for the edges]

Emblem: Top Third: (Mr Color - 50% 175 Flourescent green + 50% 66 Bright Green) Middle: Above mix, but a few drops more of 66 Bright Green Bottom Third: (Mr Color - 66 Bright Green) Individual segments: Tape off each segment as you go, working from top to bottom (Like with the plastron), spraying a single layer of (Mr Color - 175 Flourescent green) along the top edge to provide a highlight.

'Cell shading' outlines, under the arms and shorts/shadows: (Tamiya Enamel - XF-1 Flat Black) <- Works great while you still have a glossy layer, it makes it much easier to erase if you need to. (Vallejo Model Color - Black (on soft plastic pieces))

[ruxree]

New hazbin hotel sinner sona!! I love this show so much, I had to draw myself in it <3

[Image Description: A digital artwork of an original character set in a "Hazbin Hotel" universe. The character is called "Maxin Toxin", they are nonbinary and use they / it pronouns. Their anatomy is humanoid, resembling a "Chort", which is a slavic demon. they have a flat, bluish gray face with big smile with sharp teeth, their eyes are neon green with lime green and white iris, the pupil of the eye is shaped like a skull and is neon green. They have fluffy ears resembling a mammal, neon green horns and are wearing a jester hat that has a lot of black colored belts. They have four arms, digitigrade legs and a long, skinny tail with a neon green stinger at the end of it. They are wearing a jester outfit that's greenish blue on the right and dark blue on the left. their arm sleeves and clothing covering their calves are white and also have a lot of black colored belts on them, resembling stripes. All the belts have neon green belt buckles. The aesthetic of the character is of a toxic, goth jester. On the right there is another image of the side of their head with their tongue out, the tongue and saliva is neon green, and the text next to it says that they can turn their saliva poisonous at will. End Description.]

[3motionally3xhausted]

BNHA Girl's Redesigns

(pt.1)

Renamed more in the second batch than the first batch (apparently I only liked the original Uravity & Froppy, does Alien Queen count tho?)

Design commentary below the cut

Mina Ashido (Alien Queen)

I don't know how to explain the differences I chose bc it's a pretty similar aesthetic to her canon design. Though, definitely wanted her hair to be white & her horns the same pink as her skin. I wanted to push her suit in the more space/alien direction bc I have a small grudge against midnight for vetoing the name. I made her suit pattern and eyes compliment each other a bit more w blue & green. I kept the fur cuz it's cute and a bit gaudi which is in her taste & lastly I made her acid more colorful so it's not....yk semen white.

Tooru Hagakure (Oversight)

For Hagakure, I wanted to lean into the stealth thing a bit with a ninja motif; and if Mirio can have a suit with the properties of his quirk from studying his hair, so can she. I also wanted every bit of her design to be so pale she's nearly translucent when visible (she would be able to voluntarily change her visibility, but still prefers to be invisible.) Her hair is also short and a bit of a mess since she is unburdened by her appearance +with an iridescent sheen. I made her eyes a pale purple because extremely albino people with very little melanin in their eyes have purple iris's due to blue pigment mixing with red vines. Lots of small nitpicky details with her lol

Kyouka Jirou (Pulse)

With Jirou, I wanted her bangs to cover her face and (it didn't come across well in the final) her sideburn pieces to be longer than the rest of her bob which is already longer than canon with an undercut. She also needed more of a proper hero costume imo, so she's got that leather/spandex bodysuit with a volume emblem; the stripes on her sleeves would also vaguely resemble the bare of a volume key. I actually went through a few renditions to figure her out but I'm really glad for that; I didn't illustrate it here, but I think it would be cool if she had some iron hammers to plug into that she would slam into the ground or into her enemies & amplify the sound. Small difference, I moved the speakers from her boots up to her knees for closer access.

Base designs & body types:

Also here is a Jirou design that I took all the way to flats before I decided I hated it. Glad I took the opportunity to redo it, she looks much better now

[perpetualfox]

Salvation - König x GN!Reader [NSFW]

Warnings: Fuck Or Die, Heavy Dub-Con, Rough-Handling, Knife-Play, Fear of Death, Use of Stimulants

Wordcount: 1009

@bunny-extract posted this and I blacked out. When I woke up, I found this on my laptop screen. Enjoy.

[Guys, I'm not kidding with this one, the dub-con is heavy. This is probably the closest I'll ever come to non-con. Take that into account.]

→The man loomed above you, a hulking figure that blotted out the weak, dusty blue of the sky. He knelt, one knee braced firmly against your sternum, pinning your body with frightening ease to the uneven, rocky ground. Jagged rocks and pebbles dug into your flesh as he pressed you down, marring your back with deep indentations. You could feel your skin tearing against the rough edges; blood leaking from the wounds and pain lighting up your nerves. You thrashed beneath him, but it was like struggling against a wall of iron.

→“Ah, ah, ah,” he hissed, “Mach das nicht.”

→The cold tip of a knife kissed the side of your throat, and you stilled, a terrible, hollow pit opening in your stomach. The chill of the blade spread through you, infecting you with an icy terror that surged through your veins with each frantic pulse of your heart.

→He was going to kill you.

→“Sag mir, wo sind deine Freunde?”

→You stared up into his face—or what passed for his face: a ratty mask—the dark fabric tattered and bleach-burned beneath the slits through which his dark eyes gleamed. It was torn and stained with sweat and dust and…worse.

→“I-I don’t—”

→The tip of the knife bit a little deeper into your throat. A hot bead of blood welled beneath the tip, fattening until it rolled down to collect and cool in the hollow of your throat. Tears flooded your eyes, blurring the nightmare that loomed above you into an indistinct smudge.

→“Please! Please don’t! I-I-I don’t understand!”

→He scoffed, his eyes rolling skyward. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as though he thought you terribly stupid. He formed each word very carefully, his accent curling about the vowels, each syllable accompanied by a tap on the butt of the knife. A threat and a promise.

→“Where. Are. Your. Friends?”

→“I-I don’t…I don’t have…?”

→The knife bit in just little deeper, the blood now trickling down your neck in a thin stream. “Don’t play dumb.”

→A sob tore free from deep within your chest as you writhed beneath him; a wet, wretched sound. “I swear! I swear!”

→You flashed him your hands—empty and trembling; harmless. He leaned back, tilting his hips forward as his eyes raked over your body, really taking in your appearance for the first time—the scrapes and bruises marring your face and limbs; your clothing, rumpled and dirty; lacking any sort of insignia that might denote your company or rank; the way you cowered beneath him, your eyes not trained on him, seeking out weakness, but flitting about wildly, desperately searching for a means of escape.

→A civilian?

→His head cocked to the side; a dog taking a keen interest in a strange new toy. Though he did not withdraw the knife, his demeanor shifted.

→“Oh, Mäuschen. You’re a long way from where you belong.” You could hear the smile in his voice, cruel and sharp, but it did not reach his flat, dead eyes.

→A bullet whizzed by, and you flinched, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. He threw his head back and laughed, a terrible sound, dark as oil and thick as tar, “You’re afraid, Schatzi.”

→He leaned in, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply, as though he could smell the fear on you. His eyes were wide and wild, pupils blown out so large they nearly swallowed his iris whole. Only when he’d leaned in had you caught the thinnest strip of green circling that deep, void black. Between that and the jittery, twitching of his shoulders, you were sure he was high on something—some stimulant or another coursing through him—blowing his brains out the back of his skull.

→Another bullet zipped by, cutting a chunk clean out of the wall. The man didn’t blink, even as you bit back a scream.

→“Ah. Someone knows we’re here,” he said, his tone shockingly matter of fact.

→He leaned in a little closer, the sour smell of him—sweat and blood and gunpowder—washing over you. “Beg me,” he whispered, the rough material of his mask brushing against the shell of your ear, “Beg me to save your life.”

→You just stared up at him, your eyes huge and wet. He surged forth, your face slotting neatly into his palm. His fingers dug into your cheeks, smooshing them together with a thick thumb and forefinger, “I said, ‘BEG!’”

→Hot tears slid down your face, flowing over his fingers, “P-Please, save me!”

→His bruising grip relented, the rough pad of his thumb grazing over your cheek in a misguided attempt to comfort you.

→“Such a good little thing you are, yes? Yes. Now, stay put.”

→The weight on your chest vanished, and you gasped for breath, coughing as the dust in the air tried to settle in your lungs. Your dirty fingers curled around your throat; your blood-soaked flesh slippery beneath your fingers. As you struggled to sit up, the big man turned, slinging the rifle from his back, and setting it up atop a low-slung wall of crumbling stone.

→When he was satisfied with his position, he grabbed for you. Taking you by the scruff of the neck, he half-dragged you forward, pressing your back against the wall. He kicked your legs form under you, letting you drop like a sack of stones into the rubble at his feet. His hand fisted into your hair, pressing your face between his legs. His hips kicked forward with an eager, greedy air. Even through the thick canvas of his pants, you could feel what lay, thick and throbbing beneath them.

→God, he’s massive.

→You braced your hands against his knees, using what little leverage you had to push yourself back, “B-But…I thought…”

→He glanced down at you, drinking in your horrified expression. The skin around those dead-man’s eyes crinkled and you realized with a sick jolt, that he was smiling.

→“Oh, not for free, Schatzi. You’ll need to make it worth my while.”

Translations:

→Mach das nicht - Don't do that

→Sag mir, wo sind deine Freunde? - Tell me, where are your friends?

→Mäuschen - Mousie

→Schatzi - Treasure

[the-catmans-offical-2]

The offical art when it comes to Ed and Wrath are few and far between. However, there's some things I've noticed and would like to share!

Wrath, as a human, would have blue eyes - while this is something we pretty much already knew just by watching eps 28 through 30, if you look at Ed's eye color then you'll realize that they're very close to being inverses of each other!

Also Wrath is cool colors (Blues and greens, blacks and purples) whereas Ed is warm colors (Yellows and reds, whites and oranges). I think that's another contrast or inverse between them to show who they are as characters - with Wrath being a homunculus he is colder colors like the tones of a dead body or just generally not something alive, while Ed has warmer colors like a living human would.

There's more differences between them! Wrath's iris shape is (in the picture and originally) more circular than Ed's - who's is more ovular. Wrath also has slightly larger eyes than Ed, giving him a bit of more childlike appearance though his facial shape keeps him appearing as though he is of similar age to Ed. (I remember reading somewhere once, and please correct me if I am wrong but I personally believe this greatly, that Wrath was made with the goal kept in mind that he'd be an opponent to Ed of similar age and similar in other ways as well.) Wrath also has sharp teeth whilst Ed has dull flat ones - oddly enough Wrath's ears are pointed slightly and Ed's ears are rounded, furthermore giving the visual feel that Wrath isn't human. He must appear rather uncanny to Edward or to any human - same with the homunculi in general - because he looks human but with subtle things that make him... Off.

Wrath is all smilely too, whereas Ed looks more serious or weary; Showing off Wrath's inital innocence (which stays there throughout the series until he was betrayed by Dante and Envy, and I will fight anyone on that) and Ed's lingering distrust for Wrath. Fun fact, in CoS he seems to trust Wrath more even though the two never see each other again. Oh, they're gonna be the end of me. ED FUCKING ACTED LIKE HE KNEW WHAT WRATH WOULD WANT, which leads me to believe they had a talk or just SOMETHING during ep 51 that was cut out.

I have no idea what this image is from so please let me know if anyone knows! I've been curious for a while.

Anyway, Wrath:) He's poking out from behind Ed, and there's more things to point out between them!

Wrath is wearing dark clothes whereas Ed's wearing light ones. Like usual, Wrath's hair is down and messy while Ed's is up and neat. This is the offical art that made me realize that Ed has longer, thinner eyebrows than Wrath - who has thicker ones!

Also Wrath seems to be staring directly at Ed, but I personally can't read his expression as anything? Maybe curiosity? I'm not good with reading facial expressions lmao.

I only added this one bc WRATH LOOKS SO SILLY WHO THE FUCK PUT HIM IN A LIL SUIT??? HOW THE FUCK DID SOMEONE PUT HIM IN A SUIT???

I'm looking for a clearer image for this so I may update this post at some point to put the clearer one there if I find it!

Anyway so Wrath and Edward are standing back to back. They have a slight height difference with Wrath as the shorter of the two (I bet Ed is very happy/j)

Ed's expression is more angry or solem while Wrath's is a grin - but both can be said to look angry I'd think.

They both have a hand on their hip (Ed's in his pocket but Wrath doesn't have pockets, L) and the opposite arm resting more languidly at their side. They're both standing straight, Ed's head is tilted slightly downward while Wrath's is tilted up - no one else is shown standing back to back. Only Wrath any Ed. Al is there, standing beside Ed, but Gluttony is standing with his side to Alphonse, and Lust is more off to the side and facing the others rather than with her back to anyone. I think it is to further show that Ed and Wrath are such parallels (and Lust is standing a little to the side, possibly showing how she isn't really obeying anyone but herself - showing how she betrayed Dante and went to help Ed get Al back in exchange for becoming human again; But we know how that played out..)

I'm not really gonna talk about these here, as one of them is simply a scene redraw, and they're more Izumi focused if you look at them - with Izumi appearing somber while Ed looks weary or even fearful, and Wrath is just.. Being a kid. Running and flipping, and then in the redraw fighting Ed and Al.

The same could be said about these!! They aren't really interacting - in the first image Wrath is asleep at a table with the other homunculi, and in the second he does appear to be staring at Ed; But again Ed isn't focused on him.

Probably some of the ONLY FUCKING COS OFFICAL ART I HAVE FOUND with Wrath in it. Wrath and Ed are facing opposite of each other. No one, other than Wrath in the image, is fully facing at a side profile - which at first I thought represented how he had died, but Alfons is there and so is Eckhart.

Ed looks wistful, not angry but not happy. Sad perhaps, which is what he seems to be a lot in CoS. But Wrath, he looks down right angry. Yelling maybe? His mouth is opened wide and showing his sharp teeth, his visable eyebrow furrowed, he looks dirty and tired. Clearly this is during his fight with Gluttony. I love that they're seperated by the margin, representing the Gate kinda - Armestrian characters on one side, 'our world' characters on the other.

Again, this isn't really Ed and Wrath in particular. But I want you all to really look at Wrath. He's licking his Ed arm. In a similar fashion Dante does to Lyra's arm after possessing her body, and basically asking Hoenhiem to.. Yk, fuck. While I definitely don't think Wrath is doing it out of sexual desire or reason (that is a child, that is a child, that is a child), I do believe he's doing it to mimick or copy Dante. Wrath could've seen that she liked Hoenhiem, which is putting it lightly but for the sake of the sake I'll just say she liked him, and then copied her by licking said limb out of liking Ed or desiring (non-sexually) his body/limbs. To become human.

Also jfc Envy is buff, go back to being a twink you loser.

Uhh I dunno, I just rambled a lil. Maybe I'll make another post with this? Maybe not, but this is what you get for now!! Use my ask box if you have any questions! :)

[piscesmoonpress]

skinny-dip inside your mind by spacexcowgirl (@spacexcowgirl)

Through the smoke and dark lighting, it’s hard to make the man out, but his looks really don’t matter. This isn’t about what Regulus wants in a partner, it’s about what he needs to survive. At the moment, he’ll take whatever he can get.

Pairing: Regulus Black/James Potter Fandom: Harry Potter

I'm so excited to share this bind that I made for Rose, who wrote one of my favorite jegulus fics over the span of a single weekend, and messaged me about it incessantly the entire time.

Turning this story into a bind was so fun, and I'm incredibly proud of the way it turned out. Hopefully, I managed to do this masterpiece justice.

Quarter-Letter | 23,433 words | 157 pages

Title Font: Clavichord Body: Fern

Typset and bound by me in InDesign for @spacexcowgirl.

Making the typeset for this bind was a bit of a process I wasn't prepared for. Previously, I made all my typesets on Word, and the switch over to InDesign was not an easy one. That said, I have officially been converted, and I am so proud of the way this one turned out.

Rose said that she imagined this story as a bit dreamy, though given that it's an incubus fic, I did got in a bit of a gothic direction. All the design details, excluding the eye on the cover page, is done using the Fern and Clavichord fonts, including the motif on the back of the bind.

This was also my first quarto, which was a fun challenge that I wasn't expecting to enjoy so much. I can confidently say there will be many quarto binds in my future—this one was quick, easy, and addicting.

Materials and Techniques

Cover Bookcloth: Duo in Mudbath Spine Bookcloth: Iris in Black HTV: Siser Brand in Red Endbands: Mettler Silk Finish Thread

The only new technique I used in this bind was the double-core french endband, which I learned from @no-name-publishing as a part of the @renegadeguild binderary tutorials.

The binding itself is a three-piece bradel bind that I used before on my Choices bind. It's slightly adapted from the DAS tutorial to accomodate a flat spine, as this book was a bit too small for my comfort to round, but otherwise used all the same steps.

I recently acquired a few yards of Duo in various colors, and I absolutely fell in love with the mudbath color for this bind—the contrast of the blue and the red gives it a very dreamy look. The spine is Iris bookcloth, which is a favorite of mine because of how well it foils. This bind is photographed on misprints, of which I had quite a few, given that this was my first quarto.

skinny-dip inside your mind is free to read on ao3, here.

[minigirl87]

Happy Anniversary, Marc

Marc Spector x F'Reader

NSFW 🔞 under 18's DNI ⚠️

It's your wedding anniversary, and Marc gets his reward for wearing a shirt and tie.

It's my 11th wedding anniversary this week, and I thought, why not write a little something to celebrate. The song included was my wedding song and is a personal favourite. Enjoy ❤️

Summary:-

Pure indulgent fluff and smut. Marc is uncomfortable being dressed up for your anniversary dinner and is rewarded and appreciated afterwards. Marc is a sweetheart and loves red lippy. Reader is not described in any way.

Warnings:-

Sex toys (I highly recommend this toy, btw). P in V , oral male and female receiving. Squirting, cum, mutual masturbation. Use of the word fuck.

Please practice safe sex.

Word count 1915

Marc stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting in a crisp white shirt look between a black tie and one that was of your favourite colour. He hated being dressed up, but he hated letting you down more. But for your wedding anniversary, he was going to force him to manage.

The three of them decided it was best that Marc went first with the celebrations as legally he was the one you were married to, but in love, you were married to the three of them, you wore a tri wedding band 3 bands interlinked plain bands one gold (Marc), one rose gold (Steven) and the third white gold (Jake).

As he looks at both ties, he thinks back to when he planned this night. Marc had been sitting watching baseball on the tv as you were snuggled up next to him, watching the Great British menu on your tablet with your earphones in. His right arm laying over the stomach, his left playing with your hair as you rested your head on his stomach and right hand resting on his left one.

You had let a soft sigh as you as you watch your programme. Marc had gently nudged your shoulder for you to pull an ear phone out. “you OK, baby?” You had smiled up at him lovingly replied that the chef you were watching worked at the Ritz and how you dreamed of going there one day, and they idea was born.

As he chooses your favourite colour tie to wear, he hears your keys rattle in the flats door and your voice carrying through “Hi Sweetheart I’m back. Where are you?” Marc smiles as he ties his toe “in the bedroom Baby” and he listens to walking towards him. “well hello sexy, aren’t you looking handsome” As you peck his lips Marc’s cheeks turn red as he mumbles something about himself.

He fidgets with his cuffs before you gently take his hands. “Your not comfortable, are you sweetheart?” Marc avoids the question in his typical style “baby I’m fine, you look so beautiful” you smile back at him “Thank you for everything, I appreciate you doing this sweetheart” Marc beams with happiness a genuine happy smile etched on his handsome face, you smooth his hair back behind his ear. His smell captivating your senses.

Gently tapping his bum telling him to go sit on the sofa so you can get changed, you had decided to treat yourself to getting your hair and make done professionally as your husband was treating you to the Ritz. Marc leaves to get and wait for you, pondering why you didn’t have lipstick on.

You quickly change out your jeans and jumper and underwear. You hook up the black satin and lace suspender belt, slipping on the black seemed stockings snapping them onto to belt then pulling on the black lacy knickers on top then hooking the matching black satin and lace balcony bra, finely slipping on your sensible but sexy heels. Admiring yourself in the mirror as you applied red lipstick, Marcs favourite shade (each of them had a favourite shade of red), you decided to snap a selfie for later.

You chose a beautiful navy blue dress embroidered with shades of reds, pinks, and green floral on it. You felt special and good. You finished your look with a pair of pearl drop earrings and your favourite perfume. You grabbed your black clutch and walked towards Marc.

Marc looks at you like a man dying of thirst as he drinks you in and is glad that Steven and Jake were leaving him be tonight. “oh baby, you look amazing. My woman is the most stunning on earth to me” grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Shall we go?” Offering his hand, which you gladly take, leaving the flat secured and heading to the Ritz for your anniversary.

You have a lovely evening together enjoying each others company, the food, the wine, and the atmosphere. When it’s time to leave there’s a slight breeze as the London sky starts to get grey and the street and shop lights romantically illuminate your walk home, as soon as Marc senses a shiver in you his suit jackets of and around your shoulders as well as his arm.

You get back to flat as soon as the flat door is closed, both all over each as you head to the bedroom. Marc unzips you dress, and as it falls, it pools at your feet. Marc looks in awe at you standing in front of him “baby you’re a goddess, so beautiful, my love.” You start undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it away and down his toned chest and arms, his honey coloured skin glowing in the gentle lamp light.

He looks at you with such love and trust as he softly swiping his thumb over your cheek whispering “I love you” You kiss him tenderly, whispering the same against his soft lips. As you unbuckle his belt and undo his trousers you feel his cock pushing against the seem. pushing him gently so he’s sitting on the bed. Looking up at him lust fully with hooded eye’s you fall gently to your knees in front of him.

You go straight to his aching cock kissing the tip before devouring him in your warm wet mouth. A guttural moan as his eyelids flickered followed by “fuck, baby” as you start sucking him. Marc admires you as your pretty lips slide up and down his shaft leaving a trail of red lipstick on his hard cock “such a good girl, your lips are so pretty as suck my cock” he grabs a fistful of your hair guiding up and down rhythmically, a slight snarl on his face when you suck on the head only tasting his salty sweetness of his pre cum on your tongue.

Rubbing your thumb over his balls as you cradle them in your hand. Sucking them as swipe your tongue alone them. Fitting his cock as it twitches as pulses against your palm. Marc has a light glow of sweat against his body the looks like a sculpture that should be in a gallery.

Marc Groans above you making the most beautiful sounds and moaning your name and telling you your his beautiful wife. He sinks his fingers into your hair again, tightening his fist at your roots move your swollen red stained lips towards his throbbing cock again. As you sink your lips down onto him. Marc starts thrusting his hips moaning as he starts fucking your mouth the tip of his cock hitting you throat making you gag, your saliva mixes with the red lipstick coating his cock. He fucks your mouth harder as your breasts bounce against his hips with the momentum.

Snarling and Groan above you “baby, I’m gonna cum” As he grips your hair has he shoots his ropes of pearly cum in your mouth as you swallow every drop, sucking his sensitive and softening cock clean. Your face is covered in smudged red lipstick and tear stained mascara eyes and cheeks. Marc softly runs his thumb along your lips “you’re so beautiful to me like this, my love, my life, my wife.” It’s a beautiful sight indeed “I will forever love you and care for you” you reply, kissing his inside hip.

You both get your breath back under control as Marc leans down and pulls you up on the bed beside him and proceeds to kick his shoes, trousers, and underwear off. Reaching into your bedside cabinet bring out your favourite sex toy the rose and then spits on it as he proceeds to move between your legs switching it on you hear it vibrating in his palm then you moan his name loudly as Marc pushes it past your knickers placing in on your clit, your core burning in pleasure.

Marc feels his cock twitching and pulsing again as you moan his name as he watches the rose suck on your sopping wet pearl between your shaking legs, your moans are almost pornographic to his circular movements and your pleasure. Marc gathers your slick with his free hand, then slides two of his thick digits in, you scream as he then starts kissing and sucking on your inner thigh.

You grab a handful of his chocolate curls tightly as you pant “I’m so close my love” he removes the rose and starts sucking and lapping at your clit and thrusting his fingers in and out your squelching cunt, his words vibrate against your core “cum baby, cum on my tongue I want to taste you” at his words you cum in euphoria as you squirt on his tongue and lips. “your so fucking beautiful spent like this baby. My beautiful wife, I love when you cum hard for me.” Gently kissing you quivering pussy lips as he cleans your slick up with his tongue.

He removes your knickers, throwing them away and crawling like a predator on its prey, kissing and sucking your skin as he moves up your body. Towering above you resting his weight on his hands, his lips swollen, your juices covering them and his chin. Surprisingly, when he leans in, the kiss is gentle and tender as you taste each other. Kissing his way back down your jaw, neck, and chest, kneading your breasts pinching and sucking the hard buds through the bras lace.

For a big, strong guy, Marc is incredibly gentle, though he doesn’t think he is. He moves to standing at the bottom of the he grabs your hips, pulling you down to him. He pumps his leaking cock again before running the head between your slick folds soliciting a loud moan of “MARC” from your hoarse throat, as he pushes himself in your heated core “so wet baby, you enjoy this don’t you?” panting as he thrusts teasingly slow and steady. “Fuck yes my love, I love when you fuck me like this” you whimper out between moans.

You start moving your hips to meet his movements, Marc takes the hint and fucks you faster as you see his face and back tense up. He completely pulls out and pumps his cock before thrusting back in roughly as his thumb rubs rhythmic circles on your pulsing clit, you feel his cock pulsing inside you as you grab his hand as you both hit climax cuming together as pleasure washes over you both as moans and heavy breathing and the smell of your love for each other fill the air.

Marc lays down beside you, gathering you in his arms, holding you close as you both come back from your high. You snuggle into him, stroking his bicep, leaning up you, looking into his eyes lovingly as you kiss with love. “Happy Anniversary my love, I love you” leaning to kiss him and “Thank you for tonight” Marc blushes “Happy Anniversary Baby, I love you too” he kisses you back “you’re everything I need and want.” He whispers as he cuddles you again.

After a few moments of enjoying your bliss, you both decide to shower and change. Climbing to bed cuddling again, Marc moves a strand of you’re wet hair, raising an eyebrow while a smirks crosses his handsome face and cheekily asks “ready for round 2 baby” and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck “always my love.”

I hope you enjoy, feedback, and reblogs welcome.

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @welcometostayingawake @novanitee @micheleamidalajedi @annautumnsoul @guruan-is-not-here @ivystoryweaver @whirlybirbs @whatthefishh @lonely-dark-moon @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @lonelyisamyw-0love @madlittlecriminal @midgardian-witch @saturn-rings-writes @madlittlecriminal @gigachadcowboy @yeetus-thyboomer @draggolblackthorn @he-burnt-my-shake @musicsavedme98 @mess-of-fandom

Mood board created by me.

Moon dividers by @samspenandsword

DNI & support creators' dividers by @cafekitsune

Thank you both ❤️

[xenoblade-chronicles-brackets]

The entry list is complete

I said that I might have a hard time finding 40 entries with which to pad myself. Well, as it turns out, once I started, I had a hard time stopping, and had to restrain myself to not overshoot the 256.

So on top of the 216 user submitted tracks, I also have 40 of my own submissions. The bracket will be seeded on YouTube views, but I will however default to seeding my 40 submissions lower than your 216 user submissions.

Actual bracket (hopefully) soon to come.

User submitted tracks

46:ri-9

A Faint Hope

A Formidable Enemy

A Friend on My Mind

A Life Become Distant

A Life Overflowing

A Life Sent On

A Life Sent On (Flutes)

A Life Woven Together

A Moment of Eternity

A nopon’s life

A Step Away

A Tragic Decision

aBOreSSs

After Despair and Hope(Final Boss Theme)

Agniratha (Day)

Agniratha (Night) (XC1)

Agnus Battle

Agnus Castle Day

agnus colony (night)

Alcamoth, Imperial Capital (Night)

An Obstacle in Our Path (XC1)

At Our Life's End

Battle In The Skies Above

Battle on the Seas

Battle!! - Torna

Battle!! (xenoblade 2)

Battlefield ~ The Scramble of Life

Beyond the Sky

Beyond the Sky (acoustic arrangement) XC1 FC

Bionis Shoulder

Bionis’ Awakening

Black Tar

Blade~Those Who Know Fear

Brilliant Wings

Bringer of Chaos! Ultimate (XC2)

By My Side

Carrying the Weight of Life

cent-omnia region (day)

Central Factory - Xenoblade Chronicles DE

Chain Attack!

City Day

Colony 6 - Future

Colony 9 (Day)

Colony 9 (Night)

Contrition

Converging Emotions

Counterattack

Crisis

Death Match With Torna

Desolation

Don't Worry

Drifting Soul

Drifting Soul(Instrumental)

Driver VS

Elysium In The Dream

Elysium, In the Blue Sky

Engage the Enemy

Eryth Sea (Day)

Eryth Sea (Night)

Erythia Sea Day

Ever Come to an End

Everyday Life (XC1)

Face

Feelings Risen to the Sky

Feelings Upon This Melody

Field Kaijou

Fogbeasts (Future Connected)

Forest of the Nopon (Day)

Forest of the Nopon (Night)

Four-limbed Titan - Gormott

Friendship

Frontier Village (Day)

frontier village (Night)

Future Awaits

Gaur Plain (Day)

Gaur Plain (Night)

Gramps (Fonsett Village) Night/Day XC2

Great Cotte Falls (Day)

Great Cotte Falls (Night)

Homecoming

Hometown (Day)

Hometown (night)

hope for the future

How the Future Endures

Impending Crisis

In the forest (XZ ver,)

In the Refugee Camp

Incoming! (XC2)

Iris Network

Irregular Bound

Jump Towards the Morning Sun

Kaleidoscopic Core

Keves Battle

Kingdom of Uraya

Land of Morytha

Lasaria Woodland-Day

Life's Fading Flame ~ Holding These Thoughts

Loneliness

Lost Days of Warmth

Majesty

Malevolent Hollow

Manon

Mechanical Rhythm

Mechonis Field

melancholia

Melia ~ Ancient Memories

Memories

Millick Meadows (Day)

MNN + @0 (both halfs)

Mobius Battle M

Moebius Battle

Mor Ardain - Roaming the Wastes

New Battle!!!

Nia ~ Towards the Heavens

NLA Shigai

no3=NO.EX01

no4=D91M

no6=LP

no9=MONOX

Noah and N (Phase 1)

Noah and N (Phase 2)

Oblivia

off seer crys

off seer mio

off seer miyabi

off seer noah

Off-Seer - Xenoblade Chronicles 3

Once We Part Ways

One Last You

Origin Ascending

Origin Battle

Our Eternal Land

Our Paths May Never Cross

Over Despair and Animus

Over the Sinful Entreaty

Parting

Past From Far Distance

Praetor Amalthus- The Acting God

Prologue A

Prologue B

Rage, Darkness of the Heart

raTEoREkiSImeAra

Redeem The Future

Regret

Reminiscence

ribbi flats (day)

Riki the Legendary Heropon

Riki’s Kindness

Roar from Beyond

Satorl Marsh (Night)

Shadow of the Lowlands

Shining Aspiration ~ Inherited Melody

Ship In A Stormy Sea

Shulk and Fiora

So nah, so fern

Soldier's Paean

Something's Beginning to Move

Sorrow

Still, Move Forward

Suffocating Reverberation

Syra Hovering Reefs Day

Tactical Action

Tantal (Day)

Tantal (Night)

Tephra Cave

The Awakening (XC2)

The Battle is Upon Us

The Beginning of Our Memory

The Bereaved and Those Left Behind

the bereaved and those left behind (ver. 2)

The Decision

The End Lies Ahead

The Fallen Land

The False Queens

The God Slaying Sword

The Great Sea Stirs

The key we've lost

The Monado Awakens

The Power of Jin

The Tomorrow With You

the way (xenoblade x)

Theme X

Thoughts Enshrined

Time to Fight (Bionis' Shoulder)

Time to Fight!

Torigoth/Night

Uncontrollable

Unfinsihed Business

Urgency

Valak Mountain (Day)

valak mountain (Night)

Walking With You

Wanted Nia

Where it All Began - Xenoblade Chronicles 2

Where We Belong

Where We Used To Be

White All Around Us

Wir Fleigen

Words That Never Reached You

Xenoblade Chronicles Main Theme

yesterdale (night)

You Will Know Our Names

You Will Know Our Names (Finale)

You Will Recall Our Names

Young Warriors

Your Voice

Z10 Briefing

z15f20i12e09l14d (first half, aka Celica's theme)

z15f20i12e09l14d (Second half, aka Divine Roost)

z15f20i12e09l14d (Vocal Stem)

z29ba2t0t1l301e17 (z29 battle)

Z30 Free Battle

z37b20a13t01t08le

Z39 B Comical

Zanza the Divine

My own additions

Argentum (Day)

Argentum (Night)

Auresco, Royal Capital

Bionis' Interior (Pulse)

Bionis' Shoulder (Night)

Black Mountains

Cent-Omnia Region (Night)

Cliffs of Morytha

Colony 6 - Ether Mine

Crossing Swords

Enemies Closing In

Eye of Shining Justice

Fonsa Myma (Night)

Galahad Fortress

Gormott (Night)

Gormotti Forest

Gran Dell (Night)

Hidden Machina Village

Hope

Immediate Threat

Kingdom of Torna (Night)

Kingdom of Uraya (Night)

Leftheria Archipelago (Day)

Leftheria Archipelago (Night)

Omens of Life

Prison Island

Song of Giga Rosa

Spirit Crucible Elpys

Sword Valley (Night)

Tension

The Abandoned City

The Fallen Land (Night)

The Towering Yggdrasil

Towering Shadow

Ultimate Enemy

Urayan Tunnels

Visions of the Future

Yesterdale (Day)

Yggdrasil

You Will Know Our Names Finale (Climax)

[bluegekk0]

How do you draw the pale Kings eyes???? Absolutely rotund little orbs,,

I answered a similar ask a while ago but I don't mind doing it again.

The coloring largely depends on the artstyle I go for, I mostly draw in the flat colored style so I'll start with that one, though it is the simplest of the two. Whenever I draw his eyes, I use 4 colors in total: the light blue for the iris, the very dark muted blue for the pupil, a lighter color for the pupil shine and a very light blue for the reflections.

In this eye in particular, I also added a lighter shade of blue to the iris to add a soft gradient which gives it a really nice look. Since the flat style doesn't involve a lot of shading/lighting, I tend to stick to these colors above, though they might look slightly different between drawings depending on the layer filters I use.

In the painting-like style, I keep the shape similar but I add a lot more variety to the colors. This depends on the environment as well as objects nearby - his eyes are meant to be very reflective, especially the pupil, so you'll often see it catching the most color.

One thing I particularly like to do is add small sparkles/stardust like reflections to the pupil, to give it the impression of looking into a starry sky. I also tend to exaggerate the colors quite a lot to add to the glass-like appearance. It's not especially realistic I'd say, but I'm very fond of the "second iris" kind of look achieved.

Here are some examples:

As for the shape, It's very similar to the eyes of Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon. He's a big inspiration for Vyrm's design in general.

It's a big departure from the Pale King's canon design (who I believe is implied to not even have eyes, or at least eyeballs), but just as he's no longer called PK in the AU, I think it makes sense that his appearance would also be very different. In everything but name he's an OC to me, and I molded him to look like he does now for over a year. It was a really fun journey and I'm happy with where he is now! The eyes are one of the most fun things to draw so I'm glad I decided to give him visible irises. Though it does make the older art look really uncanny as a result haha

[ladymarycrawley]

Winning memories - John Stones

Request: I’m just wondering u could do one w iris and aidan being older? like teens?  + can you do a request based off todays trophy ceremony with John Stones and family please

Warning: none, just a lil something that came straight off my mind after this weekend’s events and I thought it would be nice putting these two requests together ✨

Tag list: @masonxomount @stonesyy @johnstonesfc, @prideofpd

(gif credits to @johnnstones )

Another season, another trophy for the supersonic team that is Manchester City. The third Premier League in a row arrived quite unexpectedly as Arsenal had been in the lead for almost the entire period but when the final victory sealed the verdict everything turned out to be marvellously amazing.

To say you were proud of your man didn’t give the exact idea of how he made your heart burst with joy and love. He and the little family you were creating were your everything to say the least, the reason behind your every smile and every sacrifice, big or small, life required.

The sparkle in his eyes and the cheerful smile on his face made all the sleepless, lonely nights you spent alone in your big bed without him tenderly snoring by your side worth it. Honestly it was hard not having him by your side whenever you needed him to help you with the everyday tasks such as doing the groceries or calming down your baby when she started crying inconsolably but if there was one thing you had learnt while growing up was to appreciate life day by day, without questioning future events that much; what will be will be.

So you tried to put aside all your worries to live the present moment to the fullest, standing there together with other players’ loved ones staring lovingly at John posing with his teammates as all of them wanted to take pictures with the trophy as they should, in order to have those celebratory moments impressed in everyone’s memory forever, not just in some camera roll.

The City defender turned his head to look for you as he wished nothing more than sharing that precious moment with the people he cared for most in life. He did all of that not only because playing football was a passion of his but also because he wanted to see that proud look in your eyes and that big smile on your daughter’s lips.

When his eyes met your figure amid the crowd he raised his hand, gesturing for you to join him. 

After all that time together it still felt weird thinking about your life companion as some famous footballer so you still blushed and got rather shy in this kind of public situation.

“Dada!!” Your baby Iris left your hand to go and run towards her dad, whom she was so in love with, more than you if possible.

“Iris!” The pitch was really packed and you always feared your daughter might have found herself in some unpleasant situation you obviously wanted to avoid. But John was there, ducked with his arms out ready to take her and that motion reminded you you had nothing to fear as long as he was there to keep you safe.

You sighed as he took your baby girl in his arms, getting back up and holding her with his right arm only.

“Here’s my princess” John beamed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she was waving towards uncle Ruben.

Being a spectator of their interactions was among your favourite activities: she couldn’t live without her hero, her prince charming and he couldn’t think of his life without his little, blue eyed princess.

You stood right next to him, your head laid on his shoulder.

“Don’t panic, I got her” He whispered against your forehead, referring to moments earlier where you got worried over your daughter letting go of your hand. “You don’t have to panic, you know I got her”

Panicking was definitely something you better had to avoid while being pregnant with your second child. That little secret made those moments even sweeter, as your belly was still flat and nobody had to know about that sweet news of yours yet.

John kissed your skin right where he whispered his reassuring words, bringing a genuine smile to your lips. You kissed his cheek in return while murmuring all your love for him, complimenting him for the big result he just achieved.

His fellow defender Rúben joined your company to say hello to your baby and to you. He was such a good guy and Iris loved playing with him, not to mention how that made John jealous sometimes.

The three of you stood there watching Iris playing with Kevin’s and Kyle’s children and you didn’t have the slightest intention to let go of John’s hand that was resting on your hip, using his arm as a support for your slightly aching back.

“You both look so cute in your jerseys, in my jersey to be fair”

He kissed your cheek “You look so damn hot in my jersey” He moaned in your ear, doing that on purpose just to tease you.doing it on purpose just to tease you.

“John”

"I can't even praise my most precious trophy, aka my wife?"

His cheesy words made you roll your eyes as he bit on his lower lip, lightly smacking your bum.

"Speaking of your jersey, I have something to give you at home"

He looked at you with a frown before wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. 

"Is it what I'm thinking about?"

"Wh - No, you perv. That's about your daughter" 

John was still unaware of the special little present his baby girl made for him and you knew that moment would have been something you would have remembered for a long time…

"Well, at least my daughter didn't draw me with gray skin" He said looking at the drawing she gave him before going to bed, clearly referring to the drawing some children did of him and his other City teammates.

"She put you in your City jersey which is so similar to the original"

"Yeah…and what is this yellow thing here?"

"Erm…the sun? Oh no wait, she said it's a lion. It's for England"

"Ohh I see. She's as clever as her mother, I'm so lucky" He shook his head laughing as you playfully hit his arm.

"She surely is!"

"I'd really like to congrat her on her majestic work of art, what a pity she's sleeping"

"John Stones, if you wake her up I'll kill you"

"Oi okay, got it, don't get so aggressive"

You chuckled, resting your head against his chest, doing the same with your legs throwing them over his thighs. 

"Did you turn the paper over?"

"Don't think so…why?"

"Do it"

John looked a bit confused but followed your instructions, seeing the letter you wrote him in cooperation with Iris.

"She can't write yet so I guess this is from you?"

"Not exactly, I just wrote about the endless love she has for her father"

"Mhh yeah sure"

"Read it and shut up" You giggled.

Iris just wanted to write something like "You're the best dad in the world xoxo" but I thought  maybe scribbling down some more words would have been nicer.

I'm so proud of you (yeah, what an original thing to say to someone you love) but that's the truth: you make me proud every day, not just with the amazing milestones you're reaching throughout your career as a professional footballer but as a person too, as the man of my dreams who always makes sure we're doing alright.

You know it's hard waking up in the morning when you're not there with me, it's hard having to explain our little sunshine why her dad had to leave for a couple of days or a couple of weeks; it's hard comforting her when she screams your name looking for her favourite playmate that will never get tired of watching her signing the whole Frozen soundtrack on repeat, using words that didn't make it to the English vocabulary just yet.

Another hard thing for me is expressing my own feelings but you should know by now how much I love you, I'd be lost without you (another love sentence you've never heard of, I know). You’re an adorable, hot dork I couldn’t live without.

You make me a better person and I love it even when we argue (forget I said that) because it means you care and I care about you a lot as you're my everything, all the best I could've asked for in this crazy life”

While reading the letter to himself you could see John's eyes getting teary and you smiled when he searched for your hand to squeeze.

“Now enjoy all the celebrations for this amazing result you achieved for the third time in a row because we'll be here by your side celebrating the champion that you are, as we always do

We love you daddy, to the moon and back 💙❤️"

John got so emotional reading the whole letter he was at a loss for words, he needed some time to think about the right words to say.

"Aww are you crying? Or is there something in your eyes?" You joked with the biggest grin ever plastered on your face.

Your hand went to rest on his lower back to soothe him.

"Yeah, there's definitely something in my eyes"

You giggled, placing a peck on his covered shoulder first and on his cheek later.

A while passed from that moment that, as you imagined, you would cherish for years on end.

Iris was now a grown up baby - but still your baby - almost twelve and her brother Aidan - who was the size of a bean back then - was now ten so it felt as if a whole century had passed.

During one of your tidying sessions, you found that drawing Iris did together with your letter and couldn't help but shed a tear. 

"Why are you crying?"

You turned in the direction of John's voice, smiling with gratitude. It was also thanks to him if you were living such a good life with your loved ones.

"I just found this letter, you know"

John took it to refresh his memory and smiled through the words.

"I'm gonna show this to Iris tonight and be the embarassing parent she hates me to be" 

Your husband loved to be a tease and embarass your children, especially Iris who wasn’t a little girl anymore, but he would always say those were just acts of love.

You giggled, stretching out your arms to motion for him to help you up.

"You know she doesn't like it when we remind her of these things"

"I know, she's exactly like you"

“An adorable, gorgeous young woman?”

“Nope, more like a pain in gthe arse”

You scrunched up your face as he kissed your frown.

"But I love you no matter what" He retorted trying to save himself from your fury.

"Me too, Stonesy, even though you’re an embarrassing parent sometimes and a pain in the arse as well"

He rolled his eyes and smacked your bum.

"But I love you, every day more"

[vandaliatraveler]

Update on the native wildflower shade garden . . .

Since my last post about the sharp-lobed hepatica several weeks ago, the wildflowers in the shade garden have made a significant push. All of the live plants I put in the ground last fall have made it through the winter, and many of the seeds I planted have germinated and sprouted. Quick survey:

Top: the spreading Jacob's ladder (Polemonium reptans) is mounding beautifully and positively dripping with violet-blue, bell-shaped flowers. The plant lures many pollinators, including bees, flies, butterflies, moths, and beetles. And that foliage is so lush and green . . .

Next one: woodland stonecrop (Sedum ternatum) has established itself in the nooks and crannies of one of my rock features and is getting ready to bloom.

Next two: although the sharp-lobed hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba) has nearly finished blooming, the real joy starts for me when the leathery, thrice-lobed leaves with their often deeply-variegated patterns begin to unfold. This is flat-out one of the most unique and gorgeous wildflowers of North America.

Next one: creeping woodland phlox (Phlox stolonifera) makes for an enchanting ground cover and will spread quite rapidly in the right conditions. I have strong feelings for all the native phlox species, but this one has stolen my heart. It's native to a narrow strip of the Appalachian Mountains from Georgia to Pennsylvania. In the spring around here, it absolutely lights up streambanks with its dainty pink to rose-colored flowers.

Next one: dwarf-crested iris (Iris cristata) is another lovely groundcover but beware - it spreads like wildfire. The lavender and yellow to orange-crested flowers are a treasure to behold from late April to early May. And its arrow-like foliage provides much-needed contrast in the garden.

Next: among the seeds I planted, the yellow pimpernel (Taenidia integerrima) is making the strongest push. The plant produces yellow-flowered umbels similar to golden Alexanders and is a high-value nectar source for many pollinators. It's also the host plant for the black swallowtail and Ozark swallowtail butterflies.

Next two: anyone who visits this Tumblr regularly needs no introduction to heartleaf foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia), my unofficial poster child for Appalachian spring. I simply would not have a native wildflower garden without it. One of my foamflowers is a hybrid (sugar and spice) cultivated for its deeply dissected leaves and intense variegation.

Last (but not least): my eastern red columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) pretty much takes cares of itself - it's one of the best starter wildflowers for beginner gardeners, hardy and undemanding. But man, does it produce loads of beautiful red and yellow, bell-shaped flowers.

[marciabrady]

The Signs as The Physicality of Different Disney Princesses

ARIES: Meg's depth of coloring. Your skin and hair, like hers, might seem almost flat or of one hue, but upon second glance it obviously contains infinite multitudes. You're fascinating to watch, as with the turn of your head, hair that seemed cool brown could reveal various hints of wine red; there are countless ridges around the iris of your eyes, your veins might appear blue one day and green the next, and the undertones of your skin can seemingly vary depending on the lighting and time of year. TAURUS: Mulan's affinity for appearing comfortable and well-rested. Whether you're dressed up to the nines or in sweats, your loved ones always feel at home just by looking at you. The definition of the friend you don't need a social battery for, you can emerge as the main character in any situation, even if you're the most dressed down in the room. GEMINI: Pocahontas's majestic presence, even if in humble clothing. You will literally never have a wardrobe that wears you. People often ask you where you bought that jacket or even how you get your perfume to last, but the secret is that you were just born with that special touch. CANCER: Esmeralda's almost corporeal blend of seductive vulnerability. Your scrappy edge comes across in your "come hither" look, though you also can seemingly hold your own against overzealous admirers. But there's something so genuine and gentle about you that isn't revealed to those with the most money or power- but, rather, those who take the time to get to know you and your heart, sometimes by offering an unexpected act of kindness. LEO: Aurora's trademark hair of sunshine gold. Your Leo Mane is, without a doubt, one of the most distinct descriptors of your physical appearance to the point where, like Aurora, it seems like an element unto itself. Just as Maleficent enlists her raven to survey the countryside for a maid with "hair of sunshine gold," most of your family and friends can identify you from a mile away by your lovely tresses. You likely often get asked if you color your hair or if you follow a specific regimen. Your hair is, without a doubt, your crown. VIRGO: Snow White's tidy nature. Perfectly groomed at all times, you present an impeccable appearance and never skip laundry day. You make the most of anything you're wearing. Most of the times when people buy clothing from catalogs or from how it looks on a mannequin, they assume they can pull it off as well as you- the way it was meant to be worn. LIBRA: Moana's natural beauty. While you can get glammed up with the best of them, you come alive with hair freshly soaked in ocean water, skin that's been deepened and kissed by the sun after long days outside, and a lack of makeup. Your best look is when you're closest to the earth. SCORPIO: Cinderella's inky, sooty lashes. Scorpios, without a doubt, have the most beautiful, mysterious eyes which seemingly reveal the hidden universes they guard from us. Your lashes' fringy frame pulls us in to your depthless hues even deeper. SAGITTARIUS: Jane's deer-like beauty. Like the Tarzan character, you might have a longer or more angular face, but there's an innate softness that belies your natural friendliness. CAPRICORN: Jasmine's dramatically striking appearance. No matter what room you walk into, your beauty takes as many people aback as the words that come from your mouth. AQUARIUS: Ariel's pert chin. There's a delicacy to you that suggests the wide appeal of a "next door" type of beauty, but there's also a defined quality to your features- a fascinating combination of soft and strong. PISCES: Tiana's style and wardrobe. You have an outfit for every occasion and the endless combinations you can curate with your different clothing pieces make for infinite style options.