#cristal x

[littlebean2905]

[knightofleo]

"Nicole Byer is a biological woman?!"

[trabazo]

Really rooting for lorcan and elide

[cristalthenarwhalpotato]

HEAR ME OUT OK

LOOKS TO THE MOON X HORNET IT'S PERFECT

They deserve to be happy damn it

A FANFIC CONVINCED ME EVEN FURTHER OF THIS SHIP READ IT

Also have some more doodles I made relating to the fic. I highly recommend it please I need to see this ship flourish i don't care if it doesn't make sense.

[d-choppy]

"Just a Bite "

Small digital illustration with traditional line ~ And with my little babies Cristale and Axel, who thinks that her girlfriend would make a very good kirby, while she has already eaten hers, attacks Axel's burger ~ who as nice as he is will share with her. Like always

Hope you like it and also the little reference makes you laugh ~

I can't wait for the sunny days to return with my summer desires, for me to draw these two and their group~

[twin-azure-dragon-wave]

Repost w/ permission

SessRin art by Tokio Cristal (@Tokiocristal)

via Twitter

[nevesmose]

Perturabo was silent for a long time, his attention completely focused on the disassembled objects spread out before him.

"No, Fulgrim," he said eventually. "I am not fun at parties. Why do you ask?"

The Primarch of the III Legion smiled. "No reason in particular. I merely wondered if you'd like to take advantage of so many of the family being close by."

Fulgrim stepped away from Perturabo's worktable, elegantly avoiding the discarded parchments and empty grey plastek sprues littering the room.

"Goodnight then, brother. I shall leave you to your..." he paused briefly, for once unable to find the right word. "Figurines," he finished.

"They're miniatures," the Lord of Iron said bitterly. Fulgrim gave the briefest of shrugs and left the room.

Oh, Perturabo, he thought fondly as his brother's door slid closed. Don't ever change.

"I told you he'd say no," a rough, low voice called from further down the hallway. "If it was anyone but you he would've started throwing things."

"Very comforting, Ferrus." The two primarchs walked together for a few moments in a close, pleasant silence. With anyone else Fulgrim would have found the quiet oppressive, felt the need to speak, to act, to perform in some way.

It had never been like that with Ferrus, and in his introspective moments he treasured that quiet as something uniquely theirs.

"How goes the process of civilising our newest brother?" Ferrus asked.

Oh, Konrad, Fulgrim thought. Please change, even just a bit.

"He has been a challenge," Fulgrim admitted. "More so than I expected."

"Really?" Ferrus asked, amused. "I thought you relished a challenge."

"Not this one," Fulgrim answered. "Have you ever considered the logistics of bathing a fellow Primarch?"

"I could be persuaded," Ferrus said.

Fulgrim gave him a pointed look. "Not like that. I mean someone of our size and strength who adamantly refuses to even consider basic hygiene. And our father wants me to turn this... being into a capable leader of his own Legion."

Fulgrim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"At the moment it's a miracle if he sleeps through the night without some kind of outburst. His latest development is wandering the corridors to scream at every mortal he sees about the exact time and nature of their deaths."

"You must be tired."

Fulgrim laughed bleakly. "Tired," he said, as if it were some arcane alien concept. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Come in, then." Seemingly without intending to, they'd arrived in the hallway outside Ferrus's chambers.

"The Gorgon of Medusa invites me to his quarters," Fulgrim said archly. "People will talk. What scurrilous rumours they might spread."

Ferrus shrugged. "Let them."

The room was cool, sparsely lit and, with the exception of Forgebreaker in pride of place on a wall rack, minimally furnished. The opposite of his own in every possible way, but at times like this Fulgrim found the contrast refreshing.

Ferrus flung himself down onto a primarch-scaled couch as Fulgrim's gaze was drawn to the incongruous sight of a rectangular open-topped frigerator unit containing ice and several glass vessels.

"And what might this be?"

"Oh, that," Ferrus said. "One of the latest archaeo-tech recreations based on analysing residues from ancient Terran artefacts. It's an alcoholic drink somehow brewed with crystals."

Fulgrim took a single delicate sip and wrinkled his nose slightly.

"Apparently it was extremely popular on old Earth, but only for a very short time before something else replaced it. Magnus would be able to tell you more."

"I imagine he would," Fulgrim said, turning his attention back to Ferrus. "But with the greatest of respect to the Primarch of the Fifteenth, I don't particularly care about Magnus just now."

For a long moment neither of them said anything. Then Ferrus slid back on the couch, legs parted, and patted a hand on the seat just in front of him.

"Come on, sit down."

Fulgrim quirked an eyebrow.

"Did I stutter, Phoenician? Sit down. You need to relax."

"If you insist," Fulgrim said. He moved to sit cross-legged in the space between Ferrus's legs. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned his full weight back against Ferrus.

"There you go," Ferrus said, starting to run his hands through Fulgrim's long hair. "You don't have to be perfect every single moment of the day."

"Perhaps," Fulgrim replied, closing his eyes. "But then what would I be instead?"

What is this called, he wondered, sudden and cold. What are we doing? The idea threatened to ruin everything if he dwelt on it. To ruin this, whatever it was that he and Ferrus had.

We're Primarchs, he thought. There isn't any existing human word or concept for what we are or choose to be, other than what we decide for ourselves. Like the first ancients naming the stars.

A single cool metal finger poked him gently in the back of the head. "You're thinking," Ferrus said. "I can tell."

"Congratulations. I knew if you saw other people do it you'd eventually start to recognise the signs," Fulgrim replied without any real malice, tilting his head back as Ferrus's hands resumed their movement through his hair.

He felt Ferrus's chest move behind him as he laughed. "You wound me, Fulgrim. I'll withdraw from society to weep and write poetry."

"Anything but your poetry, I beg of you," Fulgrim said quietly. "The galaxy isn't ready for that level of pain and suffering."

[comicchannel]

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[gellertalbus]

Albus: alright but think about this. If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same

Gellert *mouth full of bertie bott's every flavour beans*: kill two

[lullakan]

Some time ago I made this “challenge” of characters that ppl asociate with me 🤧 I hope you like it

[capitaletele]

It is done! This is the WIP previously known as “Threesome” - now over 2300 words and posted (locked to registered users) on AO3. 

Relationships: Cristal/Johnny Rockfort, Johnny Rockfort/Sadia, Cristal/Johnny Rockfort/Sadia Rating: Explicit   Additional Tags: Threesome, Ambiguous Sadia Anatomy, Unhealthy Relationships

Summary:

Cristal can't stop looking at him. The red scratches across his chest, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands are grabbing the sheets above his head. There are no restraints stopping him from moving his arms — he's keeping them there all by himself.

Jealousy, lust and anger twist in her stomach. Sadia definitely orchestrated this little show for her benefit, probably to prove that Johnny still belongs to her, and Cristal wants to storm out so she doesn't give Sadia the satisfaction of seeing her reaction.

But she also wants to stay to make sure Johnny's okay. And perhaps even more than that, selfishly, she wants to watch what happens next.

[singclow]

Vamos con el Cristal y Brush porque el de Marinett y Justice ya fue ;)

Nota: Cristal es más alta porque es mayor que Brush en el dibujo xD

En aquí la nena tendría unos 10 años ya Brush tendría unos 7-8¿

●●●●

Brush es de @zaikobt

Cristal es de parte mía :D!

[rwbyofmyheart]

TWST OCs & their ships

Mia x Riddle

Hawk x Beatris

Cristal x Kaira

Naia x Lia

Lysie x Floyd

Alodie x Eui

[everlastiingiimmortals]

They are weeds, twisting in the body like the facsimile of nerves, mimicing nature. There's nothing natural about them, strangling the soul they encased. Even if a removal of them was attempted, they have all the etchings of a blessing with good intentions, though they're anything but. Well-wishes were tricky things, difficult for even Gods to remove, especially if it was done by their own hand.

He knows full well that was not his doing. Death could never be so cruel.

That is a curse in lamb's clothing. Even when gold eyes meet him, see him, he says nothing.

(For Jing Yuan🖤)

Unprompted. Always accepting! | @thegatesofinfinitespace

The world is silent, as it is when every other living thing still slumbers. As it is in the building pressure of a brewing storm. As it is in the wake of bloodshed, too much bloodshed, because nothing else remains to fill the emptiness left in the aftermath of war.

It is in this silence that the general quietly contemplates, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, the state of his body, his mind. The weight in his right eye, a gift from the Wisdomwalker; the lightning in his veins, a symbol of recognition from the Reignbow Arbiter; the beating of his heart -- and under it, mirroring it, his Core Esse. It's not natural, but it is his nature, a blessing passed down by blood from the Plagues Author.

He should be dead by now. Should, because the average Xianzhou lifespan is 800 years, and he is already pushing beyond that. Should, because he is a war general, and most others last not one century, killed in war, while he has reigned for seven. Should, because the atrocities he's seen and the pain he's lived would have ruined any of his soldiers at 300 years of age and left them -- mara-struck -- to be executed far too soon. Should, because he has recognized little Bailu's search for any onset of mara in her yearly check-ups -- bless her heart, she does her best to be subtle, but little escapes his gaze. Should, because he has seen the way the Ten-Lords Judges scrutinize him, as if waiting for him. He knows. They are waiting for him.

And thus he sits, listening to the silence before daybreak, and feels the beat of his heart like thunder in his chest. What irony for him to still be so alive and well.

So when another presence joins him, bringing with it not quite a chill, but a numbness he's only barely grasped a handful of times before, just out of reach, he cannot help his surprise. He sees the man, the God, so like an Aeon and yet not. He knows this God intimately. Not personally, perhaps, but his footsteps have always been awash with the echoes of this companion; such was the path of Jing Yuan's life. The God's name brings with it a familiar concept, that of the Hunt, Destruction, Finality -- yet all the same it is so starkly different, so gentle. A name that offers peace, perhaps even freedom from his shackles.

Death.

...What a nebulous concept that is.

Jing Yuan stands to face Death properly, folds his hands behind his back, inclines his head, and smiles, as if greeting an old friend.

"Well, you certainly took your time. It is good to see you at last." And his expression softens, his smile growing mournful. "I'm sorry. I regret that I cannot accompany you just yet, old friend." And perhaps not ever. "Would you stay with me a while all the same, while this silence lasts?"

[earthsickwithoutyou]

Showgirls 1995 - (contains spoilers)

This review may contain spoilers.

I think there's actually a good movie in here somewhere, buried underneath all the trappings of glamor, glitz, monkeys and profoundly weird yet somehow not hot pool sex. The first few times I saw this I only saw the camp, but on this viewing, I could see some meaning and light shining through in a cutting allegory about the cruelties and shallow nature of show business. Pretty cool! Granted my first two-ish viewings of the movie were on scrambled pay-per-view I didn't pay for when I was a teen in the 90's 😂. Ah, memories! 😄🥰

But Nomi and Cristal are *the ship.* Too bad everytime she had the chance to shoot her shot, Cristal put her foot in her mouth. We all get awkward around our crushes. :/. Oh for the version with a Nomi/Cristal love story...it would bode terribly for all the villains in this Vegas showbiz world if those two joined forces, as well!

"Bad acting" blah blah blah, "unlikeable character" WHATEVER. To *you*! I find Nomi delightful. She's obviously endured trauma and come out rattled in some very jarring ways. I loved how she stayed true to herself and found something like a good person beneath her own selfish ambitions, much like the movie itself has some hidden layers if you care to look. If you don't, it's still entertaining and fun for the extreme camp!

I was in a very sad mood today and this movie cheered me up, which is honestly the nicest thing you can really say about a film. Also, it's in the Criterion Collection now, ya hear? Fuck dem haters. 🥰

Also, Elizabeth Berkley is a queen, idk what anyone says. She's fearless in this!

from Letterboxd - Virginia Mae https://ift.tt/D7dOyZP

[umconto-de-fadas]