#Highlands Voices

[inafieldofdaisies]

Collapse (Far Cry 6 DLC) | Scenery appreciation (vol. 23-?)

"and behold it was a white horse… two white horses?" *Joseph looks down at script* "...uhh"

bonus Audio, yesterday @locustandwildhoney was wondering about the commands Joseph gives while on the horse:

This is all I could get outta him really, he basically repeats those anytime I'm on the horse, didn't even want to grace me with "Steady, steady".

A little context to the horse edit: today when I came back to the "Garden" on Horseph, the second I neared the usual spawn spot of the horse, behold, I saw a second Horseph walking about. Might reblog this with the video of that moment, because I was shook and screaming "wtf" at my TV. Swear, anytime I jump back in the DLC the game decides to throw a bug my way.

[irn-bru]

slipped on the ice and absolutely ate shit on my way to work. ouchy ouwww ouch hurts. everything sore. not my week fr 😪

[caiabresebun]

Hello! I discovered your art from the game Paper Soldiers! I got 2 questions : 1) How many card illos did you make for that game (because I have not lasted midway yet haha...) 2) What was your process like for making each lil character?

hello! going to answer out of order so i can show you all my card illus under the cut hehe

making each chara was really fun! andriy gave me a list of character classes as well as what effects they would have on the board and gave me full freedom to design however i liked which was SO COOL. since the game was subbed under the Ukrainian division, i wanted to make charas that looked looked like they came from a fantasy world but with a look that would bring to mind Ukrainian design.

unfortunately i didn't have as much time to research as i'd like but i think i did ok! i made pinterest boards with outfit inspirations and scribbled up charas traditionally before drawing them digitally, which is something i really never do since im not good at trad art.. but with digi art i get really bogged down fixing mistakes and there was a really tight turnaround so concept art had to be trad

i had the privilege of designing 33 cards and writing flavour text!! :D

[trustnovolcano]

highlanders are cool. my friend has a cool monk wol, where as i am very very very very very very very bad at mnk and i will avoid playing mnk whenever i can.

if u want some shitty/cute gpose of ur wol/oc/whatever pls send me a message i promise im generally pretty nice! its free of charge except for obligatory "wow thank u...... thats.... so great......" if you hate it!

[theboost]

As a fairly recent convert to being a Highlander head let me just say, killing myself

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

calling it now that tma two is going to be Jon and Martin passing the torch to a new cast to deal with Fear shit and Oh... Hello was just what the knew would make us all go batshit insane (and they were right)

[ancestorsalive]

Glen Coe and Glen Etive - Cinematic drone footage

Phantom 4 Pro drone. Music: Martyn Bennett - Blackbird

[abimee]

not a single gay as haurchy/wol fic on ao3 ever makes their wol like winter and thats utter quitter shit. winter is the best time of year and i need it to drop to -20 with 3 ft of snow right now. have to do everything (write a wol who loves snow) myself around here

[theplantqueer]

one day i will have the energy to type out my autistic Dingo Rant and back it up with sources but it is not today.

[languagendersex]

i really wish netflix still had an actual ratings and review system.

bc i’m watching the actual most interesting documentary on marijuana in Thailand and yet, the host is dull AF. He had no emotion in his voice and sounds bored out of his mind.

and like, sorry dude, but i can’t watch if you don’t sound interested. this is like watching torture

[shdwtouch]

oki this is probably a niche thing but. seeing blogs written by folks going by an alias I used to use is just -side eye- but I'm also like. paranoid af so it's probably just a me thing lmao

[megacrashcourse]

Press Roundup for Periodic Boyfriends

Analog Science Fiction & Fact: "The land of the dead, like the realm of the microscopic, may be invisible to the naked eye, but it’s still there." (interview)

Chelsea Community News: "The poems run the gamut from sneakily humorous to outright hilarity to loss and longing, and sometimes encompass all of the above in a single entry."

CultureSonar: "...a masterpiece of love, lust, loss, and acceptance."

Full House Literary: "This collection of poetry should be on your must read list."

GCN: "...strangely beautiful in its resolve."

Highland Park Poetry: "Pisarra is skilled at emulating the classic moves of the Shakespearean sonnet, deploying enjambment to dazzle his audience..."

John V’s Eclectic Avenue: "...eloquent and masterfully constructed sonnets."

Loch Raven Review: "Much like punk culture, the most provocative, daring, and honest art often comes from the LGBT+ community. Periodic Boyfriends is no exception to this rule."

The London Grip: "Rabelaisian, witty, wistful and intelligent, Drew Pisarra’s poems are a delight to read."

Misfit Magazine: "Pisarra has written a one-of a kind collection of gay 'love poems' that even a straight person can love."

Modern Literature: "...there is no time better than now for reading this voluptuous collection of sensual poetry."

Modern Literature (part 2): "Why do you always write about sex?" (interview)

Ocean State Review:  "If you want to celebrate pride by reading something by a queer author that will make you laugh, gasp, and give you what the kids call 'the feels', and make you go, 'Huh? Huh!', then I highly recommend it."

Other Terrain: "The humanness of this collection is striking, that cannot be understated."

Out in Print: "These poems exist beyond their origins, all 118 of them." Ovunque Siamo: "Pisarra shows not only a keen understanding of chemistry theory and poetic craft, but of psychology and human relationships. These poems are, by turns, incisive, beautiful, salacious, wistful, and flat-out entertaining." (not online)

Penumbra Journal of Literature and Art: "The work is sexual and heady, but brings much more than that to the table the deeper one reads."

Sacred Chickens: "​It’s a rare writer who can combine laughter and tragedy, light and darkness, not only in the same poem, but in the same sentence. Drew Pisarra is that writer."

Vagabond City: "Pisarra’s poetry playfully explores a wide swath of experiences and feelings, making the collection’s specific vision all the more impressive and admirable."

The Washington Blade: "...like hanging out on a summer’s night with the acclaimed queer poet Frank O’Hara and Dorothy Parker."

Your Impossible Voice: "Everything changed for me once I’d experienced Jean Genet’s Our Lady of the Flowers." (interview)

[derrickwildsun]

My headcanon voice for Ganondorf falls somewhere between Clancy Brown (Kurgan from Highlander) and Richard Moll (Two-Face from Batman TAS). Just watch this clip from The Dungeonmaster (1984) and tell me you don't hear Ganondorf.

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[lisenberry]

Feral Friday 141 Thoughts     

NSFW/MDNI/18+    

When you really need to ride him...

...He’s sitting on the couch, watching the day’s match.  Knees spread wide and taking up half the cushions.  You’re cuddled under his arm with your feet tucked up, reading a book or a download on your phone.  It’s in the middle of a steamy scene in your latest bodice-ripper.  After chapters’ worth of fighting and resisting, the heroine is finally going to come all over the big mean villain’s engorged appendage.  

You’re so engrossed, you’re sure he can feel your breath change and your cheek heat up where it rests against his chest.  Can he sense your arousal as it dampens your knickers underneath the old, softened t-shirt you claimed from his bedroom floor the first time you slept over?

When the whistle sounds to end the half, you vaguely notice, until he stirs next to you. “Hey, babe?  We got any snacks?”

“Umm, I th-think so.”  You pull your attention away just in time to meet his eyes.  And he immediately knows. 

“Got yourself a good one there, do you?”  You’ve bitten your lips raw, you’re sweating, and your chest is nearly heaving with lust as you nod desperately.

“Do you mind if I take the edge off?”  You squeeze your thighs together and feel the slick dripping past the fabric.

“Your finger or mine?” he asks, keeping one eye on the telly and one on you as your maneuver out of your underwear.

“I’m going to need something a bit more this time,” you nearly whine as you launch onto his lap, careful not to headbutt his chin in your urgency.

GAZ – He doesn't miss a beat as you nestle your excited little pussy just over his cock.  He’s already rock-hard and it doesn’t take much to pull him out from the sweatpants he wears slung low on his hips.

“Take what you need, love.”  He smiles proudly as you drop down onto him, slipping and sliding on your own slick. 

And you do, pitching forward to settle him against the bundle of nerves deep in your belly.   He’s so long, he doesn’t just graze it, he impales it.  You swear he’s in your lungs, stealing your breath with each rise and fall.

He cheers you on the whole way. 

“Look at you bouncing so well on my cock...So pretty all flushed and sweaty...Fucking hot, you are.”

Your unfairly handsome, quick-tongued rake tenderly wipes the hair and perspiration from your face, and lets you use him until you're shattered and worn out. 

SOAP:  He lets you grind against him for a bit through his gym shorts, dick fully chubbed like the pommel of a saddle. 

“Please tell me it’s a Scottish highland warrior that’s got you so bothered, and not some prissy English lord.  You’ll hurt my feelings.”  He grins, his eyes already rolling back in his head at your steady stroking.

“Keep talking, Johnny.”  You hump against him faster, knowing the second you put him in, you’ll be done for.  A weeping, overstimulated mess before he even catches his stride.  His burly, veiny length has an upwards curve like he was molded and kiln-forged just to fit you. 

And he could go for hours if you didn’t wind him up good.  Tease him and test him, get his attention exactly where it needs to be.

“Let me suck on your tits, bonny lass.”  He deepens his brogue and his voice an octave as he tries not to laugh, while he strips your shirt off and buries his face into your bosom.

You are quite sure that the hot-headed highland scoundrel in your story didn’t use the word ‘tits’, but you let it slide.  The one between your thighs is everything you need, and more.

GHOST – He’s wearing jeans, so it’s a bit harder to get him free.  After you let out a frustrated huff at the complexity of his wardrobe, he cups you under your ass and stands you both up.  Undoing his belt buckle and the fly one-handed before setting you back down astride him again.

“Needy little dove today.”

“Just let me try, Si.”  You rarely ever ride him.  The few times you’ve attempted it, you give up when your thighs turn to mush and your cunt aches from being split in two.  He’s just too thick for a quickie.

“Are you going to let me help this time, or are you going to be stubborn?”

“Help!”  The strangled sound escapes your throat as you fit him in to the hilt.  He takes up so much space, you can’t tell where you end and he begins. 

“You’re fucking soaked.”  He rolls his hips to stretch you further, to find the right spot, as your slick trickles down to coat his balls.  You feel them wet and sticky against your seam.

“Mmmh-uhhh, that’s it.  Right there,” you bellow gratefully to the ceiling.

“What are you going to do about it?”  He grabs your hips rudely, fingers pressing to dimple the skin and hold you down as he spears your nerves like a spike.

You fight against his hold, knowing that’s what he's looking for.  Just a little fire in your belly, a little steel in your spine and your merciless, battle-scarred rogue will give you anything you want.

“That’s it, dovey.  Fuck me good.”

PRICE – He’s watching you with awe, wide-eyed and slack jawed, so immersed in the act of being milked by your warm, soft walls that he’s relinquished control completely.  You know that look too well.

“Do not come yet, John.  Please.  Think of bullets.  Hollow points and grenades.  A...ummm, a panzer!”  You’re almost there.  So...close your mind is just pulling words from memories of past conversations you were only barely listening to.

“A panzer?  Like the bloody old German tank?” he asks with the sort of clarity of mind you need of him in this situation.

“Yes, keep thinking of dusty relics rotting in museums.  While I ride your big, beautiful cock—”

“You’ve done it now.”  He groans, and you feel him stiffen inside you.  The sensation of it, coupled with the hot spurts of his spend hitting your most sensitive spot, get you there just in time to join him.

You don’t even mind that it was so quick.  It warms your heart, and your cunt, that the callous, domineering war hero falls to pieces so completely for no one but you.

[baited-beth]

I just walked into the three broomsticks and heard a man’s voice. Turned around and it was a genuine shock to turn around and see a woman behind the bar. Even though I’ve been in there before and know that the voice actor is male and trans.