#getting the base shading down first then lighting and darkening

[alaskan-wallflower]

WIP WEDNESDAYYYY

it looks shit rn but be patient i’m nowhere near done lol (if you’re not into g/t or it makes you uncomfy scroll by-)

i suppose cartman’s spell accidentally backfired, whoopsies-plus it’s very energy consuming, so he’s got a pissed off, starving elf on his hands :3 whoops-

[badathumanemotions]

My Little Vampire

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader Happy Halloween! MDNI Masterlist Category: Smut CW: Smut, Biting Kink, Bite Marks, Oral Sex (m rec), Vaginal Sex, Riding, No Protection, Aftercare/First Aid. WC: 3,268 It's Halloween Eve, Spencer is running around worrying about making sure everything is perfect. You need a way to wear him out. (Not Proof Read)

"Seriously, you can't see the difference between these two shades of red?" Spencer held up two almost identical pieces of cloth to the light, his eyes squinting with intensity. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and the smudges on the glass only added to the endearing chaos of the moment. It was Halloween eve, and the living room of your shared home had been transformed into a whirlwind of cardboard skeletons, cobwebs, and plastic pumpkins.

You couldn't help but smile, watching him from the couch where you were lounging. Spencer's costume was sprawled out in front of him—a meticulously crafted Sherlock Holmes outfit, complete with a deerstalker hat and an intricately tied cravat.

"I'm pretty sure the trick-or-treaters will be more concerned with the candy than the decor, Spence" you teased, sipping on a cup of spiced cider that warmed your throat with its sweet taste.

Spencer looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. "But what if they're not? What if they judge us based on our aesthetic commitment to the holiday?" His voice was light, but you knew the underlying stress was real. Spencer was not one to leave anything to chance, especially when it came to Halloween.

You set the cider down on the side table and padded over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They're going to love it, and if they don't, well, we'll just have to eat all this extra candy ourselves," you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

His dedication to Halloween was admirable, adorable, and something you loved him for. But you knew he could get too wrapped up in the details, so you had to come up with a way to get him to relax. An idea struck you, one that was sure to get his mind off the decorations. You stepped back and looked him over, your eyes lingering on the soft skin of his neck.

"You know what, Spence?" you said, your voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "I think I have the perfect way to distract you." You took his hand and led him away from the chaos, into the bedroom.

Once inside, you closed the door firmly behind you, cutting off the sounds of the TV playing a classic horror movie in the living room. Spencer looked at you questioningly, his eyes glancing at the bed and then back at you. You smirked, walking closer to him and standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"You're so adorable when you're all worked up like this," you murmured, your breath warm and tickling the skin of his neck. "It makes me want to just… bite you."

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, your teeth sank gently into the meat of his shoulder, just enough to leave a faint pink mark. He gasped, his body tensing for a moment before melting into your touch. You felt his pulse quicken beneath your teeth, and the sweet taste of his skin filled your mouth. It was a sensation you couldn't resist, a kink that had grown between you, a secret thrill that added spice to your relationship. You pulled back and admired the small mark you had left, feeling a sense of possessiveness wash over you.

He looked at you with a mix of shock and excitement, his cheeks flushing. "You're incorrigible," he murmured, but his voice was laced with desire. You stepped closer, your body pressing against his, and his eyes darkened with lust. You knew that look, the one that said he was ready to give in to whatever game you had in mind.

Spencer lifted his arms slightly, allowing you to help him out of his shirt. You took your time, your hands lingering on his shoulders before sliding down to his biceps. The fabric of the shirt whispered against his skin as you revealed his chest. You couldn't help but trace your fingers over his torso, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath your touch. He had a lean, almost delicate build, but you knew from experience that he was stronger than he looked.

With the shirt discarded on the floor, you stepped closer, your chest brushing against his. You leaned in and kissed him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip. He gasped, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of his candy sweetened breath. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers digging in.

You could feel the heat building between you, the electricity of your bodies touching sending sparks through the air. Spencer's hand began to wander, tracing a line down your back before coming to rest on the swell of your ass. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his desire against your thigh.

Breaking the kiss, you stepped back and began to strip off your own clothing. He watched, his breath hitching as you revealed your skin inch by inch. Your eyes locked on his, you slowly removed your shirt, revealing a bra that matched your panties. His gaze was hungry, and you felt a thrill of power knowing that you had such an effect on him.

"You know I love it when you're like this," Spencer said, his voice coming out hoarse.

You smirked and took a step closer, allowing your fingertips to dance along the waistband of your jeans. "I know you do," you purred. "And I love leaving my mark on you."

With deliberate slowness, you unzipped your jeans and pushed them down, revealing the matching panties. His gaze was like a physical touch, making you shiver with anticipation. You stepped out of the jeans and kicked them aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Spencer's eyes were glued to your every move, his pupils dilated with desire. You reached behind you and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His breath hitched as your breasts were freed, and his hands followed the path your own had taken, tracing the curves of your body. You stepped closer, pressing yourself against him.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you. You leaned into his touch, your head tilting back as the sensation rippled through you. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

"I need you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. Spencer's eyes met yours, and in them, you saw the same raw need reflected.

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that made you whimper. His hands roamed your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire wherever it went. You felt his fingers tug at your panties, and you stepped out of them eagerly. His own clothes were off as you both sank onto the bed, a tangle of limbs.

Straddling him, you ran your nails lightly down his torso, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch. You loved the power dynamic here, the way he looked up at you, eyes filled with hunger. You decided on his collarbone, a spot that always made him squirm. You leaned in, your teeth scraping gently against his skin. He arched his neck, offering himself up to you. You took a deep breath, savouring the moment before you bit down.

Spencer's moan was caught in his throat, his hands fisting in the sheets as you marked him. The sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin was intoxicating, causing him a heady mix of pain and pleasure that made you wet. You released him, watching the reddened skin slowly rise back into place.

With a seductive smile, you began to grind your pussy against his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of him against your slick flesh. You were already soaking wet, and the friction made sparks of pleasure shoot through you. You felt his cock twitch and knew he was just as turned on as you were.

Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, and you took that moment to lean down and begin marking his chest with love bites. You started at the base of his neck, working your way down to his collarbones, leaving a trail of pink marks in your wake. He squirmed beneath you, his moans growing louder with each bite.

As you got lower, you made the marks darker, your teeth pressing a little harder, leaving behind small, purple bruises. You knew he liked the feeling of your teeth on him, the way it made him feel claimed and desired. You traced your way down to his nipples, flicking them with your tongue before giving them a gentle nip. He gasped, his body arching off the bed.

You continued to explore his torso with your mouth, leaving a constellation of marks. Each bite was a declaration of your love and lust, a brand that was uniquely yours. When you reached his navel, you paused, looking up at him. Spencer's eyes met yours, and he nodded, giving you the silent permission to continue.

With renewed fervour, you trailed downwards, making the marks darker and more pronounced. Each one a testament to the passion that surged between you, a visual representation of the intensity of your desire. By the time you reached his hipbones, you had created a canvas of love bites that stood out starkly against the pale landscape of his skin.

Then, you found a particularly sensitive spot on his right hipbone. You bit down hard, your teeth sinking in just enough to elicit a sharp gasp from Spencer. His body jolted, and his cock jumped. The sight made your own arousal spike, and you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs.

You trailed down to his cock, being gentle, kissing and licking it. Your teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and he moaned, his hips moving slightly as if begging for more. You teased the tip with your tongue before taking him fully into your mouth, feeling his length fill your mouth.

You held back, using just enough pressure to drive him wild. Spencer's hands found your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he tried to guide you, but you resisted, keeping the pace slow and deliberate. His hips bucked upward, trying to increase the tempo, but you remained unfazed, continuing your slow, torturous exploration of his body.

The tension grew palpable, a silent battle of wills as you teased him with your teeth and tongue. You felt him growing more and more desperate, his breaths coming in harsh gasps, his body straining against yours. You watched his face, the way his eyes squeezed shut tight and his brow furrowed with need. Each moan that slipped from his lips was music to your ears, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could elicit such a reaction from him.

With a wicked smile, you released his cock and slid your hand down to fondle his balls. They were warm and heavy in your palm, and you began to massage them gently, keeping the pace slow and languid to match the rhythm of your kisses. You felt him tense, his thighs flexing, but you didn't relent. You enjoyed watching the way his body responded to your touch, the way his hips rolled slightly as he tried to push into your hand.

You took his cock back into your mouth, your teeth scraping along the shaft before you took him deep again. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, and his fingers tightened in your hair. You swirled your tongue around the tip before pulling away, licking up the pre-cum that had gathered there.

With a smirk, you kissed along the length of his shaft, feeling him pulse against your lips. You knew he was close, his body wound tight as a spring. But you weren't ready for this to end yet. You took his balls in your mouth, one at a time, sucking gently before releasing them with a soft pop. His thighs tensed, and he moaned, his hips jerking upward.

Spencer had reached his breaking point. "Please," he groaned, his voice filled with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you."

You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed beneath you. But you knew when to give in. You positioned yourself over him, aligning your wet cunt with his erect cock. His eyes widened, and you felt his entire body go taut with anticipation as you sank down, taking him inch by inch.

With a gasp, you sat down fully on his length, feeling him fill you up. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a strangled moan. You didn't waste any time starting up a brutal pace, bouncing up and down on his cock with a ferocity that had him seeing stars. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, his breath coming in harsh pants as he matched your rhythm.

He bent his knees, trying to get leverage to fuck up into you. The bed frame creaked under the force of his movements, and the headboard thudded against the wall with each thrust. You leaned back, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, slamming into you with an urgency that was almost animalistic. Your breasts bounced with the motion, and you watched as he stared, transfixed by the sight.

It was as if he was channelling all of his anxious energy into fucking you, and it was the most intense experience you had ever shared with him. His eyes were glued to where your bodies were joined, watching as your juices coated his cock with each deep plunge. You could see the fascination in his gaze as he observed the way your pussy lips gripped him, as if he was trying to burn the image into his brain.

Leaning forward, you moaned, the new angle causing your clit to grind against his pelvis. Sparks shot through you, and you threw your head back, the sound of your pleasure echoing in the room. Spencer's eyes snapped to yours, and the look of pure lust in them sent a shiver down your spine. He took the opportunity to lean up and kiss you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he bit down, hard enough to make you groan.

The pain was delicious, and you ground down harder on him, feeling the sparks of pleasure intensify. His cock hit you just right, and you felt yourself approaching the edge. Spencer's hands found your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples as you rode him with abandon. You could feel your orgasm building, a pressure that was almost painful in its intensity.

"Fuck, yes," you hissed, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built up. Spencer's eyes were locked on yours, watching the play of emotions that danced across your face as you got closer to the edge. The way he studied you was both thrilling and a little intimidating, but it only served to push you closer to the brink.

And then it struck you. You let out a scream, your body convulsing around him. In that moment of pure ecstasy, your teeth sank deeper into his skin than ever before. You hadn't meant to bite down so hard, but the sensation of your teeth breaking the barrier was like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core.

Spencer's eyes went wide, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The sudden, intense pain mixed with the pleasure was a cocktail that sent him spiralling over the edge. He roared, his body spasming as he came, filling you with his hot release. You felt his cock pulse within you, the sensation sending your own orgasm into overdrive.

You collapsed onto him, your teeth still latched onto his skin, your body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Spencer's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he panted beneath you.

Slowly, you pulled back, looking down at the dark mark on his shoulder. You felt a twinge of guilt—you hadn't meant to bite so hard—but the desire in his eyes told you all you needed to know. He loved it. You kissed the bruised skin gently, tasting the faint metallic tang of his blood.

The moment you could feel your legs again, you were dragging him into the bathroom, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins. You grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf, your hand shaking slightly with the aftermath of pleasure and the sudden rush of worry. Spencer followed, a slightly dazed smile on his face.

In the mirror, his body was a canvas of your love, each mark a story of the passionate moments you had shared. But his gaze kept being drawn to the deep purple bruise on his shoulder, a stark reminder of the intensity of your desire. The sight of it made him shiver with a mix of pain and pleasure. He traced the outline with his fingertips, the tenderness of his touch making his cock stir.

You rummaged through the first aid kit with trembling hands, your heart still racing from the intense climax. Spencer watched you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You found what you needed: alcohol wipes, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a small bandage. You turned to him, a look of concern etched on your face. "Let me take care of it," you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness.

He offered his shoulder without a word, his eyes half-closed and a sleepy smile playing on his lips. His skin was flushed from the passionate encounter, and he was so soft and pliable after his orgasm that he could only give you a sleepy grin in response. You carefully cleaned the bite, watching the skin around it redden and then pale as the alcohol stung. He hissed but didn't pull away.

"It's okay," you soothed, your voice gentle as you applied the ointment, hissing a little as the coldness of it hit the sensitive skin. His eyes fluttered shut, and you placed a gentle kiss beside the bruise. "All better," you murmured, pressing the bandage over the mark. Spencer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you felt his cock, still half-hard, against your stomach.

"You're still worried," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. You nodded, unable to find the words. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue delving into your mouth. "I liked it," he assured you, his voice husky. "I liked it a lot."

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. "You're not just saying that?"

Spencer's smile grew. "No, I'm not. I love how passionate you are." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're my little vampire," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. You couldn't help but chuckle, the tension you were hold dissipating.

You both cleaned up and slipped back into the bedroom, the smell of sex lingering in the air. Spencer lay back down on the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, contented breaths. You lay beside him, gently running your fingers over his chest.

As the clock struck midnight, Spencer opened his eyes and turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Happy Halloween," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. The warmth of his embrace was a comforting cocoon, and you snuggled closer.

"Happy Halloween," you sleepily reply.

[korpuskat]

Chosen Avatar - Part 1

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (GN, has a vagina) Rating: E WC: 2.1k Contents: PWP & Megatron Ramattra. Transformers-typical size difference. >Part 2 ===

There were a few things that had been at the top of your mind when you first saw him after this… transformation. It should’ve been his size. Instead, it was the glowing purple of his faceplate, the darkened slits that hid his optics now illuminated, radiating a brilliant royal shade- and for the first time, you could see his gaze settle on you. It had stolen your breath then, but now it’s even worse.

His optics rake over your nude form and it makes you embarrassed. A kind of shyness you haven’t felt with him in so long-- but like this? Everything is new.

He’s hardly done anything, hardly can do anything. With the aleatory effects of this gift, he’s much too big for his previous methods. No, you’ve had to get… creative. His thumb- massive and gray and strange and new- sweeps over your body, petting at your chest, then down over your ribs, brushing roughly between your legs. It’s crude, no precision at all, and yet still as painfully effective as his touch has always been on you.

He stops there over the heat of your sex, lets you whimper and rut against his cool metal.

“I thought you were small before,” He coos, his deepened, reverberating voice only makes you shiver harder in the palm of his hand. “Look at you now, aching for just the tip of one finger…” This, too, is alien now- a harsher tone that distorts his speech, like it’s been fed through an old speaker somewhere further down in his throat than it has been before.

“Rama…” You whine, grabbing at the edges of his rubber inlays. “Please…”

Ramattra hums, and even this noise has been altered by his new power, but does nothing to sate the heat in your belly.

“Here.” He says, and picks you up with his other hand. You make some sound in protest as being handled so casually, but honestly, the fact he lifts you even easier than before, that he just grabbed you like a doll— you whimper softly as he adjusts you, pushes you to lay back against the base of his thumb. This would be strange enough, except his fingers curl possessively towards you. The tip of his pinky sliding up along your thigh. It’s a good pressure, even if the angle is unusual.

Why he’s moved you becomes obvious only a minute later. His palm lowers, brings you level with his hips- and you watch, entranced as his other hand pulls off his pelvic plate.

What lies beneath is nothing like it was before. It had once been made specifically for you, for your tiny, fragile, human body- all purple translucent silicone and delightful waves, little nodules of firmness with his inlaid lights, now his cock stands as a monstrous obelisk, longer than you are tall. It’s dull silver, the same as his body though you aren’t sure if it is also now entirely metal, but it stands out with the base painted in that new red accent. The head is longer, less rounded and more pointed like an arrow, complete with a half-dozen more, smaller ridges beneath the head, almost making it look like a double sided key through the middle of the shaft. Below that, seams that match the ones on his faceplate run down the rest of the length- each glowing softly with purple light. And none of that is even what holds your attention.

“That’s certainly new.” Ramattra muses, gaze settling on the exact same feature this gift has given him. With his other hand, he touches the tip of his cock- and his fingertip comes away slick. A tiny slit in the head leaks a silvery purple fluid that slides lazily over the oblong head. Lubricant, some still functioning objective part of your mind supplies, but given the dubious origin of Ramattra’s benefactor, you can’t help but wonder if it is actually precum. Gods, you hope so. Heat builds in your belly, leaves unable to stop yourself from rutting against his finger as you watch him gently prod at his appendage. He smears the fluid across the tip, making it shiny and faintly purple- and heat rushes from his vents.

Cautiously, he curls two fingers around himself, uses the lubricant to ease his stroke. Above you, Ramattra moans- a shuddering soft little noise that you’d almost miss if you weren’t listening. And that alone is enough to make you grind harder against his fingertip.

You hear it as he turns, pistons shifting just so his gaze moves back to you. He watches, purple optics burning as you work yourself against his smooth new exterior- and when you tip your head back to look up at him, his chest rumbles in wordless praise. His grasp on himself adjusts, the slick noises of his fist gliding through lubricant even louder- and his finger presses harder into your skin. You gasp, brace yourself against the base of his thumb, nails digging into the little seams between plates as he rocks the finger against you.

You watch as the giant metal appendage rubs on you, nuzzling blindly between your legs. As thick as your forearm, the weight of it alone is thrilling. You adjust your position so he’s pressed right against your clit with every thrust, the underside of the finger slowly beginning to glisten with your own wetness.

“Yes,” He purrs, and you think it’s just how good his hand feels- lubricated and slick against himself. But as you look to him again. the light of his optics has darkened into a wine-like shade, locked perfectly onto your body writhing in his palm. Your grinding against him, your enjoyment of his body- that is the source of his pleasure. Heat surges through you, and if that wasn’t enough- “Keep going.” He urges you, his voice still new and staticky and rumbling and you can’t possibly deny him.

You dig your nails harder into his palm and meet each thrust- your noises a strained, staccato tempo in time with his movements, slowly building the pressure between your legs. It’s so imprecise, a blunt assault on your body that’s hotter more for the effort, for the slapdash connection you’ve forged than because of the sensation itself.

Until his digit slips too far up.

You choke; the plate of the last segment of his finger ends leaving you with a sudden little gap between his plates and with it, a complete lapse in pressure. This alone is jarring, but it’s the downstroke- the sudden return of the weight of him that makes your legs twitch around him.

And Ramattra- his head looming above you, so far away- does not miss this. In an instant, his motion changes, perfectly choreographed to rub the edge of the plate against your clit every single time. Like this, it’s not grinding, not the slow waves of incessant pressure, but an active stroke, flicking your clit like a switch-- one that keeps pace with the hand on his cock. And the pleasure shifts immediately, no longer a slow smoldering build, but a quick start tinderbox.

“Ramattra,” You gasp, clutching at him, hands scrabbling across cold metal as he ruts his finger against you- and in his lap his hand speeds up. Each stroke marked with a wet shlick of his own precum, the hum of his fans, the hiss of steam- and when you throw your head back all you see is purple. That gaze, knowing that he’s watching- it’s too much.

Your hips jump, desperately meeting each press of his fingertip, gasping, crying out his name as it pushes you over the edge. Your thighs tremble on each side of his finger, trying to clamp down on it and failing. When your body fails to keep its pace, his does not- keeping rubbing that edge of his plate over your clit again and again and again- dragging your high on and on in a merciless display for himself.

And Ramattra groans. Deep and loud, it vibrates through his entire frame, into every inch of your skin that touches his palm. You tear your eyes open, stare back up into his optics- blazing, burning orbs of light as his voice glitches, fights through static with every noise-

“A-ah.” His voicebox stutters, breaks as he fights to moan your name- and his body lurches forward. The purple light dims, flickers like a candle-- and you can’t even breathe as he cums. His hand works himself with a speed that must hurt, but from his chest he makes a noise you’d never known was him- like a radio going out of tune, pitched a half-step up- raw, unfiltered, erroneous data and he spills over himself.

His finger on your pussy finally stops, but there's no sleek offlining into a system reset- it's rough. All the air in his ventilation that was being pushed out suddenly reverses flow, his chest broadening in a desperate inhale. Silvery, lavender fluid coats his hand as his pace falters, slowing as he heaves, gasps through his orgasm in a way you’ve never seen him do before.

He keeps going- keeps stroking himself until his fingers tremble and another deep groan slips from his vocoder. He stops, lowering his hand to his hip and, gods you have no idea what this power has done to him because his cock twitches, a last few stray droplets of cum sliding down over his ridges, pouring down the seams in gorgeous, perfect streaks.

You shouldn’t, but your mind is still too lust hazed, still half grinding against his finger just from the sight of Ramattra’s cum. You reach out towards his soaked hand in a silent plea, grasping at the air. Whatever has changed in him means he must finally get his own afterglow, because Ramattra obliges, bringing his dripping palm to you. And oh, you shouldn’t, but there’s no logic in the world that could stop you from stumbling to the edge of his hand just to lean to the other and lick.

Your mouth tingles- and your first thought is fruit, that it’s sweet like juice. The second, however, is that it’s like licking a battery, but turned up to eleven-- like licking a car battery. It’s sour in a way you know isn’t physically possible, electricity manually activating your nerves in a way they aren’t meant to be. Tart and sparkling and it’s like grapes just before they’re about to ferment and damn Megatron because it’s not even bad.

You go in for another taste and Ramattra groans, apparently starting to come to his senses as he separates his hands, leaving you to collapse back against his fingers. Which is fine, as you immediately enjoy how the heat of your skin dissipates into his cool digits. Above you, you can see the plumes of steam still slipping from Ramattra’s vents, his optics dulled into an easy amethyst.

“That was… different.” He offers after a minute, his voice box slowly coming back to its regular working order, but still not pristine. “I’m not sure I appreciate this being messier.” He shifts his cum-coated hand, the fluid there slipping, shimmering in the light.

“Never seemed to bother you before.” You grin up at him, lazily lounging against one of his cleaner fingers and conjure images of how much of a mess you’ve left him with before- on cock and fingers and faceplate.

“I did not mind when it was your fluids.” Ramattra grumbles.

“Well,” You can’t help yourself, the endorphins making you too loose, too giddy to not prod at him. “Maybe you should have asked the alien warlord what he was going to do to your dick before accepting interdimensional power.”

A noise rumbles from Ramattra’s chest, something between a scoff and a laugh. “Yes, I’ll make sure to take notes for next time.” He rests there for a minute, content enough to relax and approach re-regulation and watch you do the same. Eventually, however. “I should clean up.”

You nod, stretch in his palm and prepare to climb down onto the floor-

His palm rises. You sink to your knees with the force of it, clutching at the seams below you as you turn, trying to figure out what he’s doing- and he brings you up to his shoulder. To his scarf. You blink a few times, but smile as you force your wobbling legs to work long enough to transfer yourself onto his frame.

The fabric is unwieldy to climb on, folded together in fat bunches that give way as you try to navigate them, reliant on the hard seams of Ramattra’s new body just to find a good perch. But the payoff is worth it. From here, his vent heat is everywhere. The steam has warmed the scarf thoroughly, leaving it toasty and soothing on your nude body. You don’t even have time to make a comment on how cozy he is before you’re slipping into an easy sleep.

[albed-hoe]

Heart-pounding Performance

Characters: Lyney x M!Reader

Summary: Lyney may be a bigger fan of Teyvat's greatest male popstar than he thought...

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of big crowds (I could never be a celebrity just for this lol)

Word count: 837

A/n: I’ve been obsessed with I Am by Ive (lol) for a couple of months now, but that didn’t really inspire me for anything I just felt like promoting my favs, go stream rnnnn!! This is by far the winning vote of the poll for the moment, if you haven't voted yet click this link because there are still 3 prompts that are pretty close and a bunch of days left on the vote!

You did have your fan base, but it seemed as if none other liked you as much as the Great Magician of Fontaine did.

A few months ago, Lyney had been caught up in an impromptu street magic performance at the Court of Fontaine. The crowd of onlookers huddled close with wide eyes as he made various objects disappear, seemingly into thin air. However, just as Lyney was about to make a whole deck of cards fly from one hand to the other, his eyes swept across the crowd only for them to lock onto yours. Unlike most of the crowd, you were watching with curious eyes, but without making a sound. Although you were further behind everyone else, Lyney still could not help himself from getting lost in those pools of [E/C].

And although it felt like he had been staring at you for an eternity, only a few seconds had passed before the whole deck of cards came fluttering down from the sky, scattering around his feet. The cards brushing against his face finally snapped him out of his daze. He stared at the cards in disbelief while he tried to find his bearings.

“Ah-” Was all he managed to utter before a shade of red crept onto his face. He, the Great Magician of Fontaine, had just messed up a trick in public. This was all because he had been ogling the greatest male pop star in all Teyvat, yourself.

All he managed to do was scratch the back of his head in confusion, his blush darkening when the crowd began to laugh. Not only that, but you were there watching, of all people… He looked up to see you smiling at him, chuckling in amusement. Great…

As he bent down to begin picking his cards up, the crowd got bored and dispersed. A few moments later, an elegant hand grabbed the same card he had just reached for, brushing against his. He lifted his eyes and met yours, his mouth hanging open.

“Oh, apologies, I just thought I’d help you pick them up!” You pulled your hand back and rubbed it nervously, looking away from Lyney. His mouth closed, and then he smiled politely, feeling better that he was not the only embarrassed one.

-

That was how you had met each other, attending each other’s shows every so often thereafter. Lyney knew of you before you had met in person, you were, after all, a very popular singer. His sister would even poke light fun at him for being a stan and for his puppy crush on you. What he did not expect, however, was to fall completely head over heels for you after your first meeting.

All this brings him to his current predicament: some of your fangirls were screaming at the top of their lungs at your performance, blocking the view of you on stage. Lyney was not tall, so this was a reoccurring problem for him at most of your concerts. His annoyance only grew as you finished performing a song, having seen you for a total of about three seconds. As you began talking to the crowd, the group of fangirls would scream their answers back at you at ear-piercing levels of noise.

“You know, I don’t think this night would be complete without inviting a lucky fan on the stage…” You said, his ears perking up. “Let’s see, how about…” Your finger travels across the audience, fans screaming louder when it passes by them. “You, over there! With the blonde hair!” Lyney looks up, your finger pointed at him in the crowd. One of the fangirls in front of him starts screaming, mistaking your pick for her.

“Haha, not you, silly. The boy behind you!” Confirming you meant him, Lyney gets ushered up the stairs to the stage by a security guard. He takes your outstretched hand in awe as he admires your tousled hair glowing in the spotlights. Your smile captivates him as you pull him towards the center of the stage.

“Hey guys, isn’t this the Great Magician of Fontaine, Lyney? What in Teyvat is he doing at my show?” You ask the crowd playfully. Oh, this was going to start some Twitter (not X eww😒) discourse later.

“Well, it’s good that he’s here, because I wanted to give him a little present on stage before we finish tonight.” You put the microphone down and turn to him, taking his face in your hand and speaking directly to him.

“Hopefully, this doesn’t start too many fan wars.” You tell him before leaning in and pressing a kiss on his cheek. The crowd goes wild as you pull away and smile at him. Lyney hears the girls who were blocking his view go crazy before he smiles back and holds your hands in his.

“I hope so too...” Twitter blew up over the next few days, but both your stan groups cross-stanned and shipped you together before the show, so their dreams came true as well.

I’m not super satisfied with this one but my brain was dry asl sorry :( I’ll probably be back after the weekend since I’ll be away without wifi. See you all soon!

[cf8wrk4u-us]

How The Lost Light Canceled The Hunger Games

Summary: To a Cybertronian, 200 years is nothing, barely a foot note in this peaceful time where bot are trying to rebuild their world and society.

But 200 years is a lot to humans though, 200 years is a lot for Earth in general.

Things change, humanity changes.

And as Cybertron will learn, not for the better.

But this is something the members of the Lost Light wouldn't stand for.

(Based on these ask given to @yes-i-write-fanfiction

https://www.tumblr.com/yes-i-write-fanfiction/735322098308890624/in-honor-of-the-ballad-of-songbirds-and-snakes?source=share

We're on a flat, open stretch of ground, a plain of hard packed dirt. 

Behind the tributes across from me, | can see nothing, indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff. To my right lies a lake. To my left and back, spars piney woods. This is where Haymitch would want me to go.

 Immediately.

I hear his instructions in my head. “Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water”

But it’s tempting, so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don’t get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That’s mine, I think. It’s meant for me.

I’m fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I’ve scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reached the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there’s a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with the spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.

Still, I won't be the only target. I’m betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl, even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.

Haymitch has never seen me run. Maybe if he had he’d tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since that’s the very weapon that might be my salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the stir rounding forests but toward the pile, toward the bow. 

I notice Peeta, he’s about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he’s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun’s in my eyes and-

CRASH!

A symphony of broken glass and metal erupted across the arena, the once sunny and clear blue sky darkens into a mess of pixelated screens and  crumpling scaffolding. But that's not what had our attention. 

From the growing crack in the forcefield  was a large aircraft, far bigger than the Capital hovercraft that had brought us to the arena. It was colored in a bright orange red and yellow with tinted dark glass on its front, so massive was its size that it literally scraped the sides of the entrance it cashed through. Sending more of the broken structure to crash down.

My breath picked up, heart hammering in my chest as I saw the craft get closer and closer to us,  I noted absently how its shadow easily shaded over me the rest of the tributes. Practically eclipsing the whole arena. 

A part of me screamed to move, to run, I thought of images of a hawk as it swooped over a desperate rodent. But the rational part of myself firmly and calmly reminded me that I needed to stay still on the circle before me or I would end up in pieces from the land mines.

But even that became a physical struggle as the aircraft landed sending a heavy gust of wind that threatened to blow tributes back from their stands. I braced my knees and even as I couldn’t stay on I grasped to stay right on the circle. In fact I noticed how others did the same , but a few weren’t successful. Such as one male tribute, from District 5 I believed, who was sent tumbling off. I gave a quick look from my position, ready to hear and see a mess of explosions…but nothing happened.

Even the District 5 tribute, whose face had paled, was now looking confused at the fact he wasn’t a mess against the grass.

The gong hadn’t gone off, yet the mines were not active, so what had the trigger time run out?

Has the Hunger Games begun?

In my head the passing thought came of how this could just be a scenario made by the Gamemakers. 

That perhaps the games already started and here I was just standing like easy prey.

But as I heard another groan of metal from the collapsing field above, even I had to admit that was a stupid idea.

Even so, then what was happening?!

Finally the craft opened and a bridge slid down, then stepping out with a thump of metal and heavy footsteps were what I can only name as giants.

Giants covered, no, made of metal!

Then it barely took me a second to recognize what these beings were.

Transformers.

In our history books it always seemed that throughout Panem past and even before the creation of the country, humans have always been each other's greatest enemies. But as stated in our history books, thousands of years ago, there was another race of beings that almost wiped out the planet and the entire human race with it.

Aliens from another world, giant transforming robots known as Cybertronians.

Beings of metal brutality and cold indifference, a warring species who brought their conflict with one another to Earth and put humans right in the crossfires of it.

Only leaving once almost irreparable damage was done to the planet.

As a child and learning about them in class I sometimes would look to the night sky in terror at the thought that these aliens were still out there. Just hiding among the deceptively beautiful stars.

But after losing my father, struggling to hold what was left of my family together, and the helpless dread that came with the annual Reaping; I learned rather quickly that the monsters in real life were far scarier than that of thousand-year-old metal terrors that hadn’t been seen in ages.

What was there to fear of beings who hadn’t been interested in Earth for centuries?

How ironic that my only fear had been my fellow humans when it came to surviving the arena.

Four stepped out from the ship, taking the lead was a fiery red and orange mech whose colors matched the design of the ship. Next to him came the largest of the group was colored a deep blue and red with white high shoulder guards on each side. Besides them was the shortest of the group of Cybertronians, his dark armored body barely reaching the orange one's waist and who unlike his companions didn’t have a visible face of sorts but a blue visor that fitted their red and white helmet. And finally from behind was an imposing gray and black figure, whose armor may appear more subdued in coloring and design than his group, his helmet a simple flat triangular design, nonetheless was buff and strapping. Power practically screaming from just his image alone, and when his red eyes gazed over to us I couldn't help but shiver under their intensity. Not feeling any better when I noticed a sort of dark blaster on its right arm.

He seemed familiar, his image perhaps one I had seen in my aging textbook?

I didn't have the time to ponder further as they finally stepped away from the ship and made it to the grassy field of the arena.

Like earlier I shifted my legs for a sprint, forgetting all about the food and weapons, my eyes shifting to the large expanse of forest that would be the only way to try to avoid whatever these stalking giants had in stored for us.

It was the only plan I could think of, the safest choice, and I’m sure Haymitch would agree.

Is he seeing this? Is the Capital? The whole country? Do they know where being invaded-

“Hello, there”!

I was taken off guard as the orange and red Transformer, the presumably leader of the group, called out to us. His voice was jovial and the smile that spread across his metal face was friendly.

Nothing that gave me a reason to trust him.

His grin persisted as he marched closer only shifting as several tributes cried out and scrambled to escape.

“Wait! Wait”! The giant robot hurriedly said “It's okay”!

I didn’t stop in my sprint  till I made it to Peeta, not complaining as he firmly grasped my wrist and pulled me into a hurried pace.

We needed to leave, put as much distance as we could from these metal monsters.

“We're not here to hurt you”! The Transformer said in a surprisingly desperate tone “We're here to help you! Save you! Too Stop The Hunger Games”!

I nearly fell as Peeta stopped.

“Peeta”! I hissed trying to tug him towards the forest, but he refused to move instead looking dumbfounded at the robot. As if he believed what it was saying.

But as I looked around I could see the other tributes had stopped as well, with the ones who made it to the woods actually peeking from the edge of the treeline.

The red and orange robot's face morphed into a softer expression before he went down on one knee. 

I gestured I couldn’t help but recognize from my sister Prim when she approached the small scared animals she nursed back to health or in my mom to the anxious sickly children that were brought to be treated at our home.

This Transformer, this giant of a being, was trying to make himself smaller so that the tiny humans before him wouldn’t be frightened. 

That…didn’t sound like the hostile warring species from my history class.

I stopped trying to move Peeta.

Seeing that he had our attention the robot spoke again, his voice soft but clear.

“We're here to save you, you won’t have to die today, not for some game, and especially not for your Capital” he stood up before looking at the smaller Transformer “Rewind, are we ready”?

“Just about” they, Rewind, answered “Though before we start mind stepping a little to the left”?

“Huh, why”? Asked the leader

“Because captain, if we were trying to sell the whole “we don’t mean any harm” image maybe we shouldn’t be showing how we trashed their enclosure”? Rewind said 

The apparent captain looked to the shattered entrance they had created before sheepishly smiling “Yeah…better not let them see that yet”

“Doubt it will make much a a difference” said the gray and black Transformer, his voice was sharp and curt “No doubt their Capital already knows about the damage done to their little arena”

“This difference is Megs is that we're making a statement” said the Captain “One that has to be said as soon as possible, ready Rewind”?

“Whenever you are” said the smaller bot, tapping the side of his helmet.

I was confused why he did that till I noticed a redlight shinning on the side of his helmet, a video recorder perhaps?

With that the red and orange giant stood straight ahead, his gaze intense as he looked at Rewind “Citizens of the Capitol and Panem, we come in peace”!

CRACK! CRASH!

At that moment more scaffolding and material decided to come tumbling down into the arena as if to loudly object to the statement.

I winced at the noise and off to the side I could see the largest of the Transformers actually pinch his brow in an exasperated manner. A scene I could almost find funny.

 Despite this though the captain gave only a nervous chuckle before speaking again “This is Rodimus Prime, and despite our rather abrupt entrance, we have only the best of intention for our arrival” he face then became more serious “While I understand that as of now most of the citizens of this country recognize us in a hostile light, we Autobots,  many members of the Cybertronian race have viewed Earth and its people as sentient like minded beings. Ones who needed protection and safety when our war did unfortunately touch your planet. With some humans even becoming valued allies who fought besides us during such a perilous time” Rodimus stopped then, his blue glass eyes dimming even “After the war we left Earth, both out of a need to protect this planet from any further conflict we may have had  and out of respect for humanity who wanted to independently run their society once it was rebuilt, a wish we were determined to honor” his voice then harden as he continued “But recent discoveries and findings have forced us to decide to break this arrangement, this biggest being your so called Hunger Games” Rodimus practically spat that word out “A society whose higher caste who not only feeds greedily on it’s citizens but demands blood tributes out of its children, making a game out of their very lives! It will not continue! Not if I can help it”!

I watched transfixed as he raised a fist to his fiery chassis “I call an end to the Hunger Games! Starting now”! He calmed “Again this isn’t a message made out maliciously, I want more than anything to resolve this peacefully, I hope you can believe me citizens of Panem”

Rewind then made a gesture and Rodimus visibly relaxed, even giving a small laugh.

“So did we get all that”?

“Sent it right to our sources, hopefully it was enough to get it to the other Districts but you can bet those big cogs in the Capitol must have seen it”

“That's good” Rodimus nodded before beginning to walk “All we got to do is wait for now”

“You know Optimus Prime isn’t going to be happy about the stunt we pulled today” the gray and black one, Megs, spoke again.

“Well Optimus shouldn’t have been dragging his pedes over this,” responded Rodimus “But if anything just say you were following the captains orders, I’ll take the fall”

“I highly doubt he believed that” the blue and red Transformer said

Rodimus actually shrugged before looking our direction again, he gave another reassuring smile “Just hang tight” he said “I almost got you all out of this”

No one responded for the longest time, till in a quiet voice spoke out.

“Is this really happening”?

I couldn’t pinpoint who spoke, but that voice echoed a question I was asking myself.

Was this really happening? 

I recalled the proclamation made by the Transformer not even a minute ago.

An end to the Hunger Games.

No more Hunger Games.

The games were canceled.

Was this really happening? Barely a few minutes earlier I was ready to run for my life and fight against my fellow tributes in a bloody arena, but now I was being told that we didn’t have to fight by a giant metal alien.

I felt Peeta shudder beside me and when I looked at him I could see how wet his eyes were getting, he covered his mouth trying to muffle a sob. Without thinking I pulled him close and let his weight sag against mine.

I was ready to let our time in the tower be our final goodbye, knowing that the chances of us making it from the Cornucopia was slim at best and remaining allies had an even smaller chance.

But saying I wasn’t relieved would be a lie, I was relieved that the games hadn’t started, relieved that Peeta and I were still together, relieved that we were going to be okay.

And if a few tears and raspy breaths left my mouth I wouldn’t find myself ashamed for it.

When we were calm enough to pull away I looked to the other tributes; most  stood with their Districts. Some crying and clinging to one another, a few who decided to look through the packs of supplies littered around the arena, but most just staring at the Transformers that stood by their ship.

Well most of them.

The apparent captain, Rodimus, was actually walking leisurely towards the pond. Then literally popping open his chest cavity pulled out a pole of some kind that had a string at the end of it.

It took me a second to realize what he was doing.

“Is he…”? Peeta started

This Transformer, a giant metal warrior, a captain that led his own crew, and just broke into the Capitals arena and called an end to the Hunger Games; just plopped himself at the end of the water and began to fish!

Peeta actually coughed a laugh besides me “Can robots even eat fish”?

I didn’t know and wasn’t sure to find out.

But surprisingly enough Peeta let go of my hand and actually got towards the robot!

“Peeta”?! I whispered harshly “What are you doing”?

“I want to get a closer look at them” he said 

“Peeta, wait”! I said urgently “They’re Transformers, it might not be safe too-”

“They saved our lives Katniss and you heard them, they don’t want to hurt us” Peeta said but before he kept moving he held out a hand to me, encouraging me to take it.

I hesitated though.

Despite what these Transformers had done for us, despite their promises, I still didn’t feel comfortable putting myself in a squishing range of them.

Peeta gave me a disappointed yet understanding look and continued on. Surprisingly even some tributes began to take his lead, forming a small crowd.

The bot, Rodimus, began to notice their approach and gave a large smile at them. 

“Hello there,”!  he said 

None of the tributes worked up the nerve to greet him back verbally but I could see Peeta giving his own smile in return along with an energetic wave of his hand.

A part of me had to keep myself from rolling my eyes, it was just like Peeta to try to get people to like him. The games may have been over and these giants claimed not to mean any harm but Peeta was still trying to play it safe.

He really was clever like that.

But ultimately it wasn’t Peeta who opened up to the metal giant.

“You know how to fish”?

This came from the young 12 year old from District 4.

“Yup” Rodimus said “Back when I was stationed on Earth a good friend of mine taught me, I got really into it after that” He ended that by adjusting his line a little.

The District 4 boy's eyes widened before giving a curious gaze at the pond next to them.

“Do you think there’s anything in there”?

“I hope, in either case I’m just glad to be fishing again”! The robot said “I told myself that if I ever came to Earth again it would be one of the first things I did”! He stopped before asking the Tributes besides him “Do any of you fish”?

Again most stayed silent but the District 4 didn’t hesitate to raise his hand and say “My district is responsible for most of the fishing done, some of my father and uncles are even allowed on the boats to go to sea for the bigger stuff, we even have competitions during the season”

Rodimus' eyes seemed to glow brighter “Oh, so you're a bit of an expert huh”? He asked leaning closer “So what's the biggest fish you’ve caught so far”?

The young boy's face went red, from the freckles of his nose to the bouncy curls on his head.

“Um, just a couple of mackerel with my dads old fishing rod ” he said quietly almost embarrassed “I catch a lot more with nets with my friends”

“Mackerel! Wow that impressive”! The giant robot expressed eagerly “Most of my fishing is done in freshwater, I say the biggest I got was just  5 pound bluegill but boy was he a tough one-hey I didn't catch your name by the way”

“Luca” said the boy “Luca Alberts”

As the red and orange Transformer continued to chatter on about his fishing experiences the group of huns around him seemed to relax more and more, feeling at ease his casual attitude. And it seemed to affect some of the other tributes too who had previously kept their distance.

I moved closer to where Peeta was in the group, catching more of the conversation made by Rodimus to the District 4 tribute.

“So do you really hope to catch anything”? Asked the boy, Luca

“Who knows? Best way to pass the time anyway” Rodimus responded

“You might want to be careful” a voice suddenly said

It was one of the male tributes, I didn’t recognize him initially given he looked like another of the 14 year olds that were taken into the games. Then recalling a yellow suit I realized this must have been the tribute from District 3, his bright yellow dress shirt being the only thing that stood out in his rather dull interview with Cesar.

“You don’t know what might be inside the pond” the District 3 Tribute explained “The arenas are supposed to be set up with all kinds of traps, ones operated by the Gamemakers and ones set loose like the Mutts”

“Mutts” Rodmius said quietly “Right, those lab made animals they make” his happy expression turned into a somber one before his smile returned “Well, it’ll be fine! If there's anything dangerous lurking in these water, just trust your friend Rodimus to help”

He added a thumbs up that honestly felt corny, but seemed to please the younger tributes.

“I’d like to fish too”! Luca announced

Rodimus hummed unsure “Well, I only have one-”

“It’s fine” he stated before going to the nearest pack and rummaging through it “There pretty simple to make if you have the right supplies”

Rodimus nodded “Then I'll trust the expert on this”

The boy gave a proud grin though mad a disappointed sound at not fighting anything before moving onto the next pack.

From where I stood I gave another glance at Rodimus and his robotic teamates.

To be honest it wasn’t enough to say these were robots, the Capital miniature cleaning or delivering drones definitely fit the definition. There movements stiff and uniform, moved with purpose in their singular task.

But these Transformers, they moved as a human would. Maybe not with the same fluidity but unrestricted, like the armor they were wasn't just something attached to their bodies but actually a part of them. Even the metal on their faces, despite how alien they looked,  moved so easily. And given Rodimus examples, with so much expression and versatility.

How could metal and gears and inanimate material move and soften so much like flesh, like actual breathing beings.

Because they were alive obviously….

For years I had it in my head that these aliens were nothing but cold hearted machines of war. That's what our history books told us, showed us.

But then again those books were written by the Capital.

And the Capital says a lot of things.

 I looked at the large Transformers before me; Rodimus chatting with the other tributes, the smaller one Rewind holding the side of his face as he gazed around so obviously still recording, and finally to the two largest bots who stood rather detached from the rest of the group.

I part of me wondered how different things have been if Rodimus and his people had come sooner.

Would the first Rebellion have been successful, would the Capital still have demanded to Hunger Games, would their even have been a Hunger Games, would-?

My hypothetical thoughts were cut short when a piercing scream went through the air.

Turning I could see some of the tributes scattering away from the Cornucopia as the male District 2 tribute came barreling out of the entrance swinging a large sword.

“Stop! What are you doing”?!! cried Rodimus, quickly getting up and abandoning his fishing pole “Why are you fighting! Your free now! No one is making you kill anyone”!

The brutish tribute, Cato if I member his name,  looked at the robot and actually gave a snarky smile.

“Are you stupid”? he asked “Do you really think you can stop the games? That we'll let you”!

From behind him I can see more of the Career Tributes gather behind him, each brandishing their own weapons.

“We're here for a reason! And I'm not about to let you take that away from us”!

More tributes scattered as the pack of Carriers ready their weapons and stalk forward.

Despite everything, despite all of Rodimus hopeful promises, I'm sure that there's going to be death even if these aliens did call for an end of the games.

Really how stupid was I to believe them, how stupid I was for not grabbing a weapon, or not just running when I had the chance.

“That's enough”! Rodimus ordered taking a step forward, barely restrained anger in his voice “Stop this now or-”

But already Cato was rushing forward sword already at the closest, hapless target.

Luca.

The District 4 tribute quest for fishing line and other supplies had put him just close enough to Cato line of attack, he kneeled by an open bag, to startled or afraid to run.

Rodimus quickly moved , the ground quaking in his hurried step forward. Avoiding get accidentally trampled on I didn't notice when Peeta left my side till I saw him rushing past Rodimus bright orange feet right for Luca.

The instance was too fast and too slow at the same time, Peeta running to the boy, taking him his arms to try and pull him away from the attack, the sword swinging down and blood sprinkling out.

I can feel myself yelling, Peeta name clawing its way out of my mouth as I saw the sword about to swing back down again.

BOOM!

A roaring blast echoed through the air as a bright hot beam of purple shot over the heads of the Carrier tributes.

The arena grew hot, it felt like the very air was singed from that one blast. Leaving A smoking crater in the far off distance that no doubt could have easily sizzled away any puny human in its path.

It felt hard to breath and my stomach threatened to lurch the meager breakfast I stomached back at the tower. But still I turned my head to look at the cause of the blast.

The gray and black mech.

Everyone was silent, afraid too move. Even the Carrier tributes, who had been a savage pack thirsty for our blood were left shaking. The District 1 tribute actually scared off his feet, ass to the ground as he look terrified at the glowering red eyed Transformer.

"You wanna try that again”? the Transformer said, his voice like a rumbling storm, his still smoking cannon leveled at the group of Carriers “I came here because I thought I was saving innocent humans from a cruel game made by a tyrannical society, not a rabid creature who sees fit to attack his own kind" 

Cato stupidly tries to argue "Its the Hunger Games-"!

"And as my captain stated, there are no more games from here on out" said the bot, but his face actually looked to soften a bit "Your a Carrier tribute, from what I understand, you were raised for this, all of you" he cast his eyes to the rest of the group "Raised to murder, slaughter, and entertain...but understand that from here on out the games are done….but if you feel so free to continue fighting than do it" 

The cannon lights up.

"Come forward and strike, make your District proud, make your owners proud" 

Cato seemed to be hyperventilating, he turned to his fellow Carrier tributes but they were all shrinking away under the gaze of the giant robot aiming their weapons at them.

All of these Carrier tributes, made into these roughness killing machines for the benefit of the games, reduced to scared children.

I find it laughable if I wasn't fixed on a moaning Peeta lying on the top of a silent Luca.

But I didn't dare approach till Cato, with an almost wheezy cry, squeezed his blade one more time before throwing it away.

The others following his example.

I rushed forward trying to evaluate the damage, kneeling besides Peeta I carefully tried to move him on his back and off of Luca. The boy looked fine but I startled to see that Peeta had a long slash cutting across his right arm. Cutting deeply by his elbow before becoming shallow by his shoulder. Bleeding very heavily.

I did my best to press on the wound, the warmth stickiness of it pooling between my fingers.

Peeta eyes were open with pain but still he managed a strangled “Katniss…”

“You idiot”! I couldn't help but snap “What were you thinking”?! 

He was so close to getting out! Getting out alive at least!

A shadow overtook us and I looked to see both Rodimus and Rewind staring down at us.

Rodimus was clear with horror as he looked at Peeta's wound.

“Scrap” I heard him mutter, I didn’t know what it meant but couldn't help but share his sentiment.

The sleeve of my coat was already soaked with blood. I knew I couldn't continue on like this, then stupidly I member there was a pack besides me.

I grabbed at it hastily looking through, cursing as I only found a few crackers, a empty canteen, and a pair of socks.

Despite this I stretched the socks as far as I could, rembering from my mother and Prims work that no matter what I had to press to keep the blood in! Huh, even with something so obvious I still was failing.

“Here” a voice said and I felt a weight besides me.

It was the young girl from District 11, Rue, and in her hands was a roll of bandages.

Quickly grasping it I thanked her and made to work trying to wrap the wound. Rue wordlessly held up the arm gently to let me encircle it further, though Peeta gave painful gasps still.

“Let's try tying part of the arm” said Rue tapping just above his elbow “It'll help with the bleeding” 

I nodded following her instructions, just like I would if it were my sister and mother. I was never a gifted healer like them and I didn't have confidence in the wrappings as I still saw red peaking through the white of the bandages. But I was still too glad that it stopped spilling on the grass.

The shadow above us got bigger and I felt Rue press up to me while Luca fliched.

“Will he survive”? asked the gray and black Transformer

“I-I don't know” Rodimus said “Oh, slag, we really should have brought Ratchet”!

“To be fair he may nor have been as helpful considering this is a human and not a Cybertronian patient”

“Yeah but-will you put that thing away Megatron”! Rodimus suddenly yelled in frustration 

Megatron.

I felt my blood run cold as I finally realized why I recognized this specific Transformer.

Images of him, him and his Decepticons, littered the chapter of my history book.

Describing one of the leaders of the two waring Cybertronian factions, this bot name was meantioned as to put a face to the carnage that was the species of Cybertronians. Deemed so evil and callus for his not only his utter disregard of human life but in his delighted in the utter suffering and destruction to the organic life on this planet. Pictures and accounts left no room for nightmarish imagination.

He barely looked any different,  I could still recognize him.

This was him.

This was Megatron.

I didn't hesitate to push myself in front of Peeta and the younger two. Despite knowing I was helpless to anything he want to do to us.

“It was just too prove a point” said the metal ravager “Wasn't even looking to maim”

“That's not the point Megs-”! Rodimus would have continued if the whole arena didn't begin to shake causing even the giant robots to become unsteady on their feet.

Suddenly the forest erupted in a burst of flames! And the once tranquil pond bubbled ominously, growing inside till literal waves were sloshing closer to the field the stood.

“I believe the Gamemakers are not too happy with us interrupting there game” said the blue and red bot named Mags as he approached his captain.

Getting a serious face Rodimus loudly ordered “Grab the humans, were getting out of here”!

Rodimus kneeled before us “We got to leave” he said before cupping his metal hand and holding it low “I know your friends hurt but we gotta move you guys”

There's a lot I can distrust Rodimus for, being a Cybertronian for 1. and having Megatron on his crew for 2.

But seeing the earnestness in his blue glass eyes and knowing staying in the arena meant only death, I could only silently shuffle Peeta onto the bright red metal with Rue and Luca following behind us. The metal felt oddly warm beneath me.

“That's it little buddies ” Rodimus said encouragingly “There we go” 

His fingers curling as the only warning before Rodimus lifted us up to a dizzying hight, from their I could see the other bots Mags and Rewind collect the rest of the tributes with surprising gentleness.

Something I also noticed is Megatron himself, simply standing there and staring at the Carrier tributes who panicked as the ground around them began to muddy as the tide of the water lapped at their feet.

I guessed that the metal destroyer maybevwanted to finish the job,but to my surprise he leaned down and scooped up the scared tributes. 

Soon enough Rodimus and the others rushed us towards their ship

It started dark before opening to a control room full of machinery and screen monitors.

“Magnus, get us ready for lift off” said Rodimus before going towards a large glass tank and gentle settling us inside there. Rewind did the same to the two tributes he held and the bot Mags/Magnus set down the rest.

There was some hesitancy as Rodimus saw Megatron with the Carrier tributes but he only made a clicking noise before jumping into one of the seats, no doubt the Captain chair.

“Are we ready”?

“Thrusters on captain”!

I barely felt the ship move but on the monitors is clearly showed us soaring above the almost decimated arena and lift towards the dome. I shuddered and continued to hold Peeta as once again the ship jolted as it scrapped against the size of the force field.

“Rodimus, I'm detecting several hostile flight carriers coming our way”

“Guess they really didn't appreciate our little peace demonstration” Rodimus said dryly as he gripped the steering device.

The monitors showed what was obviously Capital shuttles coming at the ship. 

There was a violent shudder from the side of the ship.

“Rodimus…should we engage” said Magnus quietly 

Rodimus voice was determined as he said “No, we agreed we weren't taking any lives today” but then an almost cheerful tone came to his voice “But I got something else in mind”!

The ship gave a jerk and I felt myself bracing against the surface of the tank.

“They want to chase us, then we'll go somewhere they can't follow”!

Despite the optimistic way he spoke it was becoming worryingly hard to breath.

“Rodimus” Megatron said in a stressed tone “Rember the elevation, the humans-”

“I think I know how to transport humans” Rodimus said sarcastically, but I couldn't help but notice that it was getting easier to breath.

I coughed and checked on Peeta, concerned how paled he was though with how alert he looked I was still hopeful.

The jostling stopped and soon it was a smooth ride. Though not a comfortable one as Megatron gazed at all of us within the tank.

I did my best to meet his gaze fearlessly, my eyes flickering to the scared Carrier tributes still in his hands. The squirmed and cried, terrified to be in the hands of a titan who could easily squish them.

The one-sided stare off was broken by Rodimus hysterical laughter “We did it! We did it”! the bot practically leaped from his seat to fist pump the air “We saved the humans and showed those higher cassette up”

“Yes” Magnus said in a tired voice “With 23 anxious young humans and 1 injured tribute in our care”

“Well, we can figure it out” said Rodimus jovially “Doesn't this prove we can do anything”? 

“Rodimus-” started Magnus 

“Oh, we need to get ready to dock”!

The way Magnus sighed you would think he was a  tired parent to a rambunctious child and not the crew member following his captain.

There was another shudder and soon a bright light entered the hall we had come from, soon Rodimus left his seat to the tank we were in.

He was all smiles as he began to roll the very platform our tank was on towards the entrance.

“Your safe now, your safe” he kept murmuring.

I wondered if it was more for his assurance then for our sakes.

The light at the end of the hall was blinding but when we emerged from it a roar of cheers followed.

“WE'RE BACK”! yelled Rodimus

As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see we were in a large hangar of some sort and inside it a group of Transformers stood, bots of versions colors and sizes all whooped and hollered in congratulations to Rodimus and his group.

Once we got closer several of them surged forward.

“You actually got them”? said one with sharp helmet a grey face and red marking around his eyes.

“Ha! I wish I could have seen the faceplate of those Capital jerks when you burst in there” said one bot who only had a single yellow glass eye that made up his greenish blue helm.

“Are these humans”? one small white and blue bot asked as they struggled to look at them from the height of our platform “They're so cute”!

A purple Transformers with a narrow face and red eyes leaned forward “One of thems injured”

“Scrap”! Rodimus said “Ratchet?! Where's Ratchet”?

“I'm here”! called a gruff voice, a red and white mech pushed through the crowd “What happened”?

“Um, we ran into some complications” said Rodimus gesturing to Peeta “Can you help him”?

“A human patient” the robot frowned “I can try, but I can't promise I'll be as much use given how long it's been and what supplies I have ir should I say don't have”

“Haha, he just being modest” Rodimus said nervously looking at Katniss “But he'll be in safe servos” 

That obviously didn't assure me and both bots could tell as I held Peeta close to me.

The one called Ratchet came forward before lowering his hand into the tank, tributes did scramble back till it was only me and Peeta before the metal hand that was as big as a storage door.

“I see your worried for your friend, I understand” he said “ But I need to take a  look at him, it's the best way to ensure his wound is properly treated”

“Your not a human” I found myself saying “You don't know what your doing”

“This isn’t my first time with an injured human, it's just been some time and I don't exactly have what I need….” He stopped before saying “He looks like aid was administered, was this your work”?

I nodded but admitted “I had some help”

Ratchet hummed and nodded before nudging his hand more instantly towards me “You can come along, perhaps you could help me treat him”

I gulped looking between him, the hand, and a grimacing Peeta. Then finally helped push Peeta onto the outstretched hand before placing myself onto the cold metal of the palm. I braced myself as once again lifted by a metal giant.

Ratchet began to quickly walk away with us, but I could still hear Rodimus speaking.

“Megatron make sure you keep those tributes separated” he instructed curtly, obviously talking about the Carrier group.

His voice became more lighter as he said “As for the rest of you, I want to welcome you all to the Lost Light”!!!!

[frostbitebakery]

Progress Shots For My Entertainment

A Journey

A few people have mentioned how they like getting WIP pics of a drawing I’m working on and see it go through all five stages of grief whilst I slowly go insane. So how about I do all that but in a post?

Behold! Pirate Dancing.

It came to me upon a dream and ballroom-esque pirate music. But I really, really wanted these two specifically to dance and I begged @elwenyere to let me. She agreed 💜

Like everyone else, I start out with the messiest sketch and proudly show it off in hopes it goes on the fridge. Subsequently in step 35664338 I clean up the sketch to something coherent, though the lineart barely makes it to the very end. It’s a mix of part of the art and helping guides for where goes what.

Followed by more tedious work of choosing flat colors. Which is the worst. I wrangle with layers so connecting flat colors aren’t on the same layer. Everything goes into alpha lock, just like the rest of my sanity.

Then the fun starts.

Hair 😍

It’s the first thing I shade. I gotta have the hair down before shading faces. It somehow does not work vice versa for me. Faces absolutely have to be next. If they’re not to my liking, the whole work stalls. Cody’s face in this gave me so much grief. He went through five or six similar iterations before I settled - and was satisfied - with the version that’s in the finished work.

The rest of the shading is me bullheading through it piece by piece, cursing myself for being anal retentive. Especially the leather and leather embossing was… there was so much leather. The look is achieved by a brush that’s called “Old Metal”. Personally I don’t think it looks like old metal but it’s fantastic for leather. I have a few darker and lighter shades and I use the brush in different sizes and opacities to wrangle a leather look out of the flat mid-tone base. The symbol of the embossing is on a separate layer above the flat color, with the mode set to multiply and layer opacity anywhere between 15 to 30%.

Once I get all of that done, I play around in post-production. I throw effects at it, adjust color temperature and saturation. I enhance light reflections on metal. Lighten up places that suddenly look too dark, darken parts that suddenly look too light. Post-production is very much the stage where I really choose an overall vibe. Which is why I send WIPs through post to get a feel of what I should work towards during shading.

And get new perspectives on a work. :P

[ticklishraspberries]

Teeth (Alex/Henry)

Summary: Alex makes good on a promise he made via email, and discovers something interesting about Henry. (Somewhat based on an anonymous prompt, and on one of Alex’s canon messages to Henry in the book. Hope y’all enjoy!!)

Alex had just been teasing when he sent the email, but the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to follow through on those words: “I’ll fly to London right now and pull you out of whatever pointless meeting you’re in and make you admit how much you love it when I call you ‘baby.’ I’ll take you apart with my teeth, sweetheart.”

And so, the next time Henry is around, Alex decides to do just that. They’re making out in a hotel room, as they’ve done plenty of times before, but the time they’ve spent apart adds to the desperation of it all.

Kissing at Henry’s neck, Alex experimentally nips at the pale skin, resulting in a small gasp. He knows it’s a terrible idea, but he isn’t thinking about paparazzi or makeup artists or public appearances as he begins to worry a bruise on the side of Henry’s throat.

“Marking me up doesn’t seem very wise.”

Mind-reader. “I promised to take you apart with my teeth, though.”

Henry’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “Do it somewhere that I can hide, at least.”

Alex pouts but complies, pulling away from his neck and observing the red spot — it should fade quickly, but Henry is so pale, the mark sticks out. Oops!

“Where do you suggest I go, baby?” he asks, smirking as the pet name results in a shiver. “I believe I also promised to make you admit how much that gets to you…”

Henry covers his eyes with one hand, smiling like a fool and shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You know it turns me on when you use big words.”

They both laugh, easily switching between dirty talk and silly banter. Since Henry failed to answer his question, Alex takes it upon himself to gently sink his teeth into Henry’s right shoulder, resulting in a groan.

His mouth wanders, trailing kisses, nips, and licks along smooth skin. He even dares to dart his tongue out to tease one of Henry’s nipples, which causes a hilarious noise somewhere between a moan, a gasp, and a giggle.

It’s a ridiculous sound, so why does Alex find it so fucking hot? He trails kisses past Henry’s sternum and down his belly, pausing to nip the softness below his navel, just above where his pantline would be, if he were wearing any pants.

Henry squirms, and it's the first time he’s put up any sort of physical resistance so far, and it stops Alex in his tracks.

“Is this alright?” he asks.

Henry nods. “Yes, it’s perfect.”

“You just got a bit wriggly there, I wasn’t sure if you were trying to tell me to stop.”

“If I wanted you to stop, I’d tell you,” Henry assures him, reaching a hand out to stroke the side of his face. “It just feels…odd, in some places, I suppose.”

“Odd?” Alex quirks a brow. “Odd how?”

Even in the low lamplight, Alex observes Henry’s blush darken even further. 

“It’s just…sensitive.”

Alex is about to snark at how unspecific of an answer that is before an idea pops into his head. “Did that tickle?” he asks, unable to hide the mischievous smile that curls on his lips.

“No,” Henry replies, far too quickly to be believable, and Alex is clambering on top of him in an instant, trying to hold his hips and legs in place. He returns his mouth to Henry’s belly, barely ghosting the skin with his lips.

Perhaps it’s the light, playful mood, or the anticipation of the inevitable, but Henry starts to giggle after just a few moments. It’s completely and utterly adorable, and Alex just about melts.

“How did I not know about this?” he asks. “How dare you not share this important information with me, your best friend. How will the tabloids believe that we actually like each other if I don’t know everything about you, Your Highness?”

Henry’s hands do little to bat him away, twitching beneath each brush of skin. Alex can’t stop grinning like a dumbass.

“Cut it out,” Henry whines. “You’re killing the mood!”

“I disagree,” Alex replies. “I have the Prince of England helpless under my touch, breathless and blushing. I’m tickling a member of the monarchy! Is this some kind of crime?”

As he talks, his fingers join the game, spidering up Henry’s sides and keeping a steady stream of laughter pouring from his lips.

“Yes! This is punishable by death!” he cries.

“It’d be worth it,” Alex says without thinking, and then, since that feels too sincere, too vulnerable, he leans down to blow a small raspberry on Henry’s stomach, a stupid thing that June used to do to him when he was a kid, and it just seems like a natural way to distract from his words.

Henry didn’t react too strongly, but Alex could feel his muscles twitching under his lips. “Please—”

“Begging already?” Alex asks. “Tell you what: I’ll stop tickling you if you say you love being called ‘baby’. And, add that I’m awesome in there somewhere.”

Henry's laughter kicks up a notch as Alex’s fingers find the soft curve of his waist and squeeze. “Never!” he still manages to reply.

Alex takes his time exploring different spots, poking and pinching all over the torso before him. There’s a charming, almost boyish quality to Henry’s laughter, mainly when Alex focuses on his ribs.

“Okay, okay!” he finally gives in, hands batting uselessly at the offending fingers. “I’ll say it!”

He could be really mean and make Henry spit his confession out between those sweet giggles, but he’s feeling generous this evening, and slows his touches to a stop. “I’m all ears.”

Henry refuses to look at him as he catches his breath before murmuring, “I like it when you call me ‘baby’…And, you’re awesome, I suppose.”

“A little cheeky, but I’ll accept it.”

Henry slumps back against the mattress, and Alex moves to lie down beside him.

“You are a menace to society,” Henry says.

“I got you to admit it though,” Alex replies, smug as ever.

“You used more than your teeth, though.” It almost sounds like a challenge.

“Maybe next time.”

[merklins]

dude you need to teach me your ways of coloring and how you make it look so good,,,, how do you do that,,,,

HONESTLY. Colour picking is one of the things I am like the LEAST confident in ever, so the compliment very very very nicies to hear ehehehhee thank you (: BUT!!!!!!!!!! TIPS AND TRICKS I DO HAVE! (With a Seven from HLVRV as a reference because I've been rotating her lately and she was the first thing to come to mind haha) (Cut just because I put a lot of pictures and rambling and I don't want to flood people's dashes haha)

Filtering layers baby!!!! They are my everything ever when it comes to getting colours looking good haha. My secret. My trick. My personal flair in all the art ever. The Key Ingredient. You see my sona? THATS IT BABY!!! I use my iconic reddish purple shade from my hair for pretty much everything ever and it works wonders hehehe watch watch this.

BA BAM. We have a guy. Plain ol flat colours. BUT!!! We make a layer above that. And colour EEEEEEEVERYTHING in with a good ol saturated sample of the reddish purple. AND THEN!!!!!!! We put a layer effect on that bad boy. I flip flop between a few but for this example I did Overlay, and then I turn the opacity down to! Whatever feels right! today it's 20% (:

WA POW!!!!!! The canvas upon which you can keep layering various bright colours with various filtering effects to your liking hehehehe. I switch it up a lot, But I usually keep it in the orange to pink range just cause thats what I like (: BUT!!!!!! to REALLY get that Merin Merklins colouring job in there? We take! ANOTHER SHADE OF REDDISH PURPLE! A DARKER ONE! (Or sometimes I'll take a blue if it vibes better with the piece haha) and we draw ALL THE SHADOWS! It will look VERY ODD AT FIRST. BUT!!! Back to our layer effects baby. Pick whichever one looks niciest. I bounce between Darken, Multiply, Overlay, Soft Light, or even just Normal. I did Darken here (: and THEN!!!! Turn your opacity down again until you like what you're seeing, I did 40% here.

BA BAM!!!!!! CHECK OUT THOSE COLOURS BABYYYYY. Ehehehehehe! You can do it with any colour you want, it doesn't have to be the red-purple, but thats My Brand and My Favourite so thats what I do (: You can also!!! Make the lighter colour and the darker colour two DIFFERENT colours, and it can look VERY sick (: Here's a few examples so you can see!

AND TAADAAAAAHHHHH Thats one way to get what I think are some real nicies tasty colours going on hehehe. Again, LOTS of wiggle room! I tend to spend forever futzing around with layers because they each play a little differently based on what colours you're using! Try different colours different layer effects, see whatever floats your boat (: ALSO Screenshot of my layers for simplicity's sake and easy reference too!

BA BAM!!!!!!! TUTORIAL OVER!!! Basically fool around do whatever you want forever, but bright saturated colours is what I do and bright saturated colours are fun hehehe. THANK YOU FOR ASKING (: Very fun to ramble and put the process into words haha! Wishing you bestest of lucks with your art stuffs (:

[brassharrier]

Beefsteaktorial: Starting Metallics

Hey everybody! I had another opportunity to ask myself why I do things the way I do them. This is going to be more about establishing the why's of metallic paints than the how. Everybody has their own paint styles so I figure it's more productive to have the bare basics established.

Priming

Choosing your primer color is already an important step. In the case of metallic paints, you can use your underlying coat can change your final product in subtle ways. In our examples below you'll see that I went with a black primer to darken the base color I used which provided more overall contrast on the model. However, I went with a warmer tan color to help contrast the gold against the dominant silver.

First Coat

One common issue people have (myself included) is fighting with the metallic paint's coverage. Resist the urge to layer on too much paint at once. You'll want your primer to come through here. We don't want a full on opaque metal coat. Having some of your primer come through will let the pigment as well as the metal flakes do their thing. In addition, metallic paints have a nasty tendency to clump harder than basic pigments because of the extra material suspended in the medium. Don't worry, our next steps will bring the color up!

Wash

There are plenty of ways to get depth with metallics besides washes, but for today it'll be part of our process. Washes will help us get some definition by darkening our low points which will help us elevate the high points more than just a brighter coat normally would. Be sure to give everything time to dry before and after the wash. Any wet paints will flow all over the place and cause some issues with wet washes. You can use a hair dryer on low heat to speed up your washes, but be very careful not to heat one section for too long and do your best to avoid drying big pools down quickly as they'll leave very obvious pool marks. This part of the process will dull your shine, but that's okay at this stage. In our example pictures, you'll see that I used a black wash to really deepen the recesses of the silver and a red wash for the golds to warm the area and provide overall contrast from the model.

Second Coat

This can be either a layer of dry brushing or standard painting with a brighter shade. My progression was from a gunmetal silver to plain silver and brass to a light gold. For the silver in the example pictures I used a dry brush. For the gold, I used the aforementioned thinner coat of paint instead. For the silver, the dry brushing let the model keep the depth the washes provided. Be sure your brush has very little paint and build up patiently to avoid drowning out your lows. The gold was painted on in a thin and careful coat. The edges were easy enough to avoid and I didn't want to risk getting gold on that fresh silver coat.

Golds

These are the gold steps separated out from the silver steps just to make this easier to follow. These are the exact same steps with the small detail that instead of a prime coat I used that tan base coat to help the gold show up better instead of trying to fight the silver.

At the end of the day, easy metals boil down to just a few basic steps.

Choose your base color. Either use a color to help your metallic paint show up better or a color that will add depth by showing through the metal.

Don't fight your paint. You don't want perfect coverage on your first layer. Let your previous layer do the heavy lifting for you.

Wash your first coat, but expect it to dull. Just your primer or base layer, pick a color with purpose. Washes don't just darken your low points. You can use them to help separate the area from the rest of the model to provide a bit more pop.

Use a lighter color for your second layer of metallic paint and make the layer under it do the heavy lifting. This layer is there to help bring your color back up and restore it's shine. If it isn't glossy enough, but it's the right color you can just paint on a thing coat of gloss when you're done and finish sealing your model.

Thanks to everybody who stuck all the way through to the end. Hopefully I was able to help end some struggles for people or provide an alternative method of doing things. Always remember, you're better off with multiple thing coats than too think of a single coat!

[sarafroot]

pls talk about technique!! sorry if i’m annoying you but i’m eating this up lmaooo. i appreciate your responses a lot!

i’ve been having trouble with coloring/rendering?? like idek where to start when it comes to that part of a drawing and every time i try it i get frustrated which just sucks

Answering this under the cut because its LONNGGG 😜😜😜 also you are so not annoying me I have been waiting for someone to be as interested in this as I am lolz

Here is a detailed walk through of how I'm going about coloring something for that band au-- I hope this helps!!!

For skin I start by putting down a base color; this is the color that shadows and highlights should be considered in relation to! I always set the layer to "alpha lock" so that when I start rendering my strokes stay within the silhouette I originally colored

From here I add redness to her skin first in the form of any natural flush her face may have. I pick a color for blush by beginning with her original skin tone and adjusting the hue to a slightly cooler color and increasing its saturation. I use a soft, buildable, and blendable brush to apply this (quoll). In this scenario, I want the flush to be subtle as she's supposed to be in a darker setting.

For shadows, the first thing to consider is where your light source is. In this scenario, the light will be hitting her from the right, so shadows should be most prevalent on the left. I pick a color for shadows the same way I pick a color for flush, only this time I don't saturate the color as much and darken the shade more. The color usually appears purple-ish. I use a more defined brush to apply shadows and blend them around where I imagine the contours of her face are softest.

Finally I color finer details like lips, eyes, scars, and freckles, and add highlights where a light source would likely reflect on her face. I love adding washes of neon oranges and pinks along harsh shadow edges and cheeks as well! I feel like this makes faces feel more alive.

When I use this method on a face in profile, here is my color placement:

For bodies, I use the same colors that I used on the face for the sake of consistency. I start with any natural flushing on the body, typically on joints, tummies, butts, upper backs, and hands and feet. I use the same brush I used for flush on the face.

For shadows on bodies, you really have to use your imagination or a reference to form a 3D image in your head. While face shadows are more straightforward as there's often a formula you can follow, body shadows are more diverse. If you were to break her body down into shapes, where does her body protrude most, and where do you imagine there are crevices? How will light interact with these shapes to form shadows? Again, I'm imagining a light source on the right so the shadows I place will be mostly on the left.

Then I go in and add highlights and other tiny details.

For hair, I start with a base color before putting down highlights closest to the light source and shadows in places that I imagine are hidden from a light source, such as underneath a particularly prominent strand of hair. Finally, I pick a color I feel like encapsulates the "true" color of her hair and scribble it over the base color I chose, making sure to leave some base color peaking through. I feel like hair has a lot of depth, and by doing this you can kind of mimic that complexity in color without sacrificing a simplistic art style. In total, I used four colors for her hair. I separated the darks and lights for a clearer demonstration of how I think her hair would fall.

You can apply these techniques to really anything, especially clothes!

Yayyy done!! I will absolutely answer any other questions you have

[readylovewrites]

how to rest (in a war)

Hyperspace is smeared white with the light of a million stars, a million planets and suns and moons and people. Hearts of kyber and fleshier things. Flares of life. Bugs on a windshield.

His spine aches and the ache pulls like the fingers of a grubby street child, like a grasping weed, draws his mouth into a thin line. Immeasurable.

The smears don’t blink out as they come out of hyperspace and that confirms his suspicions. He’s going to pass out. Maybe already has passed out and is surfacing, head above water, before the waves submerge him again.  Maybe it’s worse than that. He doesn’t think so; he’s grown remarkably good at knowing the limits of his body and feels certain that he’ll die without bacta and bone stabilizers but not immediately. That’ll have to be enough. Internal bleeding aside, his body is not riddled with shrapnel or tattooed with the burning ink of an explosion.

The Death Star fired on its own base and its only Bodhi that got them out. Imperial pilot. Defector. 

Cassian doesn’t allow himself to think the word friend.

The grating beneath him shutters, pitches, and he hears distantly K-2’s steady back and forth with Alliance flight control. It’s out of order.  An echo. K is dead. K is a square of data in his quarters. K is stuttering into the comms—stuttering—shouting Goodbye into an ever darkening vault. Bodhi is stuttering. Bodhi is alive. K is dead.

A hand bunches into his tattered shirt and presses down into his chest just beneath his collarbone. A shadow leans over him but the stars of hyperspace remain, dashed across the bridge of her nose, her eyes, her mouth. It’s Jyn, he thinks. She was next to him when they took off and Chirrut is a half-dead slump that Baze hovers over. Or was. Maybe now he is an all-dead slump.

This is the first time quiet has sung so loud.

“Cassian. S-stay.” It is Jyn. “You need to stay awake.”

He knows that. The majority of his career has been solo missions, regardless of the presence of assets, and though he’s never really had to call upon it much, he knows basic first aid. Knows how to bandage a blaster shot, a vibroblade wound. Knows that falling asleep with a concussion could mean never waking up.

He knows it but the stars are getting brighter and she’s fading to light.

The stars, suns, moons, the shades of hyperdrive are burned into his eyelids but he still turns his head towards her voice and reaches for her arm, desperate. When he finds it, he slides his palm down her sleeve until he hits exposed forearm and lingers. Presses two fingers to her pulse point. Lingers. Only for a moment. Even as her other hand comes to rest on his wrist, he slides further down to her hand that holds tightly to the clunky weight of the plans. She presses his hand.

“I’ve got them. We got them. Stay awake.”

Can’t, he thinks as his eyelids slip shut.  The stars are here. In the dark, and burning bright.

He turns his hand, feels the data drive fall away, and all that’s left is Jyn’s skin.

It’s odd how hungry he is for the touch. More than for the plans even. He remembers touching her hip where they originally hung as soon as he and Jyn were dragged bodily by Baze on board, not even out of atmo yet. Not safe, no promise of escape. Touched and gripped and thought it’s done, though really it isn’t.  And still, more than all of that, he wants to touch Jyn Erso and feel that she is alive.

“Cassian, stay awake.”

Maybe he is delirious from the concussion. It’s nonsensical.

He’s never felt an urge to hold a person without motive or prompting.

Cassian. Stay awake.

He won’t and he knows it but the corners of his mouth tighten with an effort.

Cassian. 

He’s more Cassian than he’s ever been.

She gives that to him. No aliases, no lies.

Cassian.

[krowspiracyanon]

Krow belongs to @thekrows-nest.

I probably won't finish this because the hair and skintone have me stuck. It may even have to be completely redrawn.

However. This picture was one of the the first detailed pieces attempted after buying Procreate Pocket in August and trying digital art out for the first time. It began as a low effort repaint of the 'toddler with gun' meme but then I started using it to properly learn the tools and went ham.

What I like: The detail of Krow's design and the blending of their skin tones. The realistic style. Their expression. This is before I read anything about facial proportion or expressions so I drew that face instinctively by eye, but the anguished emotion of the original still somehow came through.

What I don't like: It began as a lazy repaint over a toddler so the body proportions are off for an adult. Far too chunky.

I chose a default base colour that was too warm and light for Krow's skin and used a reference picture with harsh overly bright lighting that lightened and distorted the colours. This, in combination with overzealous blending of highlights into the mid tone, ended up whitewashing their skin. (I didn't know about changing brush opacity then.) In canon art and other fanart Krow has darker cool toned skin. (Krow is Indian/Bengali.)

Attempts to darken the shadows to put the lighter 'overexposed' looking parts of face in context and paint over with a more appropriate shade only orangewashed them, and adding more details to try and tone their skin down darker just turned their cute freckles into muddy hyperpigmentation. I wish I had known or knew how to just colour adjust the original. Ps. Those round dark shadows are from their headphones.

I'm sorry king. I'm still learning, studying guides and source material now and will try to do better next time.

Also all this was done on a smartphone with a cheap stylus so even with the fineliner brush tool as small as it could go I couldn't write small enough for the allotted space on the buttons - so the details on there are blurry approximations.

I also didn't Glaze it because the artifacts of the filter were highly visible, a problem I'm having a lot. I'm sorry for the watermarkish writing - don't want someone to repost it with no context and get me dragged.

[pokerninja2]

I should really pick up the pace on these, it's been about a week since I talked about Spikers stuff. In any case, today we'll discuss the four ghost characters that have been added from the Luigi's Mansion series - Gold Ghost from the first game, and Greenie, Gobber, and everyone's favorite ghostly pup, Polterpup, from Dark Moon!

To begin, something I generally like with how I did ALL the ghosts is how they're drawn. If you've seen all my art you know I typically use black outlines with basic shading, which is not the case here. I wanted to make these guys glowing and transparent, particularly inspired by how the ghosts appear in artwork for Dark Moon. It made for a cool effect, so I wanted to replicate it as best I could. I think I did a good job, and it makes them pretty distinct from the rest of the cast, which makes sense when Luigi's Mansion designs are quite detached from general Mario stuff.

The effect admittedly looks better on a dark background than a light one. In fact I had to darken the background on Polterpup because he would have been virtually invisible otherwise lol. Still, I was able to make it work by making em less transparent.

But now onto the ghostly ghosts themselves! Gold Ghost probably has the least interesting going for him, all he has for an outfit is a hat. Then again, I don't imagine he needs too much to be intimidating - he IS a ghost after all. That said, the Gleaming Spook attack is based on how ghosts appear in the games: they suddenly materialize and scare Luigi before doing whatever.

They're certainly less goofy than the Dark Moon ghosts in this game, but the ghosts in 1 seem way more out to get you, whereas the ones in DM are more like pranksters that get in your way, so I think it makes sense for them to be more scary.

Now for Greenie. The inspiration is obvious, the kitchen ware they use to attack Luigi in Gloomy Manor! Rolling Pin Romp is even taken from the same spinning attack they use, down to them getting dizzy afterwards. Perhaps not as intimidating as a sword or a spear, but you think getting whacked in the face with a rolling pin is just sunshine and rainbows? These green fellas know what they're doing! And if that doesn't work, the lid shield should help.

For Gobber, Puddle Eater is obviously based on their main attack: spitting out puddles of goo that make Luigi slip and fall. The goo in this game traps players though, so it's a bit more like the Creeper from Dark Moon. The huge fork, knife, and bib they have is something I made up, but one that certainly fit their hungry selves. They'd probably try to eat up their teammates, so they get provided all-you-can-eat buffets before every match. Probably one of my favorite tidbits in the descriptions... I guess you can call them lore? Can something like this have lore?

It was also somewhat inspired by Mr. Luggs from the first game. Gobbers were likely inspired from him, so I thought it made sense.

Finally, there's Polterpup! I briefly considered making him a captain since Luigi having a pet ghost dog is a huge part of the series now. But since ScareScraper showed they were an entire species, they became sidekicks. Plus, who wouldn't want multiple polterpups on their team?

Polterpup's not too interesting regardless though. His only thing in terms of costume is a collar, with the team emblem on the tag. Cute, but also not so noteworthy. The Pounce attack was based on how Polterpup often pounces Luigi and licks him though!

(this was the best image I could find)

And that covers all the ghosts so far! Generally, I had fun adapting all their unique quirks into fun designs and movesets, and when I inevitably tackle more ghosts from this series, I'm eager to talk about how I did them as well!

[closetdbisexual]

the way warriors name their kits is so funny because .... naming a cat immediately over their appearance is like the dumbest thing you can do . cats look way different when theyre born. i mean, everyone knows cats have blue eyes that eventually change, but even just pattern wise they change a lot too. but what im discussing in this psot specifically is just certain mutations or temporary effects . and a good deal of these are relevant to black/dark-furred cats so thats what im using as examples . s orry .

fever coats

[id: two kittens, a tabby and a black kitten, with fever coats. their bodies are silver and mottled, while their faces show their real patterns. end id.]

first off, fever coat kittens ... ! a result of the kittens experiencing higher temperatures than usual in the womb (from their mother having a fever), this pattern lasts usually four months to a year . their fur presents as silvery across their back, but similarly to pointed cats, their extremities (face, legs, usually tail) show their real pattern almost normal. think itd be interesting to have a kitten like this born, hailed for their unusual pattern and given a name to fit it, (i can imagine names based off fog or mist prefixes especially), only for it to curiously fade away when the cat gets older, and the prefix no longer describes them. what a fun thing to explain at gatherings ! :) youcan tell i just wanted to make a post about fever coat kittens but thought itd be boring to discuss them alone.

2. vitiligo

[id: a before-and-after photo of a tuxedo cat with vitiligo. the first photo shows the cat as black with a white muzzle and blaze, while in the second, the cat is almost entirely white with a black mottled pattern. end id.]

more well-known, but still an interesting idea. blackpaw ...is suddenly far more white than black ! again, just cool. fun idea. i dont have much to say about this one because everyone knows about this .

3. sun-bleached

[id: a black cat with a sun-bleached coat. its back is varying shades of red-and-brown, unlike a tortoiseshell pattern. end id.]

caused by radiation from the sun, the eumelanin in black cats fur can break down, causing it to actually lighten - and cause concern for sunburn, also. not good. but i imagine this happening to riverclan or windclan cats the most, considering how often theyre out in the sun. considering how this can also return to normal if they just shed naturally and spend less time outside , itd be another interesting anomaly for cats to figure out .... also a very pretty pattern . and also acknowledges that, yknow, letting your cats outside is not very safe for them actually so �� crowfeather looking a bit more like cardinalfeather lately ....lol ...

4. pointed cats

[id: several pointed cats. all are primarily cream, with darker markings around their face, legs, and tail. one is a seal-point cat, with almost black markings. the next is a lilac-point, with blue-gray markings. the third is a pair of flame-point cats, with light ginger markings. end id.]

i also wanted to post about this one the most <- guy who LOVES pointed cats . oh this one has so much potential both ways. pointed cats are the result of certain temperatures impacting their bodies - the warmer parts of their bodies produce less pigment, while the colder parts around their face and legs will darken. and, as that might suggest, this process can be prevented by keeping them at other temperatures. pointed cats raised in warm environments, for example, will usually not darken as much. however, this is still coded into their genes, and can even be affected by the seasons and temperature changes then, which again, very fun ! very cool idea . a solid-white kit you found in twoleg-place, slowly changing as they age until suddenly that name snowkit doesnt quite fit them anymore, does it? a pair of visibly pointed cats that traveled to a sunnier territory, confused when their kits stay light and solid-colored. warriors having to get used to their clanmate changing colors with the seasons, making jokes about them seeming more like some kind of seasonal plant or prey than any other cat they know . cool .....

okay i dont have anymore examples you can tell i just really wanted to tell people about fever coats and also pointed cats ^ i like them a lot

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 282,

Morning thought: With the equinox costumes looking more like nature sprites than shades save for the color, might that be an indication that the nature sprite could be bought off or appeased with similar offerings?

*******

Finally got around to talking to Pat today.

I figured if I was going to do it, best to head out first thing in the morning and try to catch him on his usual beach walk.  The clouds were starting to gather and darken so I grabbed the umbrella that I’d been itching for an opportunity to finally use.  As it turned out, that opportunity came quickly, for the rain began shortly before I reached the beach.

It was a light rain, with little wind to speak of so that the droplets came almost straight down.  Perfect conditions for an initial test.  A test that was well passed.  Melaina did good work.

When I first deployed the umbrella, I wound up just standing there for a long moment, listening to the soothing music of the drops against the canopy.  The passing thought that Pat might be stuck out in this rain (not that it was a particularly bad rain to be stuck in) shook me from my reverie.  That was, of course, assuming that the elder didn’t simply look at the clouds as I did, come the same conclusion, and decide to skip his walk.

As it turned out, I wound up catching him on his way back to his house.  Of course, I offered to cover him with the umbrella.  He accepted and thanked me, although based on the way he chuckled at it, I think it was more out of amusement at the novelty than any desire to stay dry.  We kept the conversation light while we walked, mostly about the umbrella and the equinox festival.  

He told me that he managed to see more of my telling this time around and that I seemed more confident than I had with the first one.  I got halfway through saying something self-effacing about my performance before I realized I was doing it again, stopped myself, and accepted the compliment.  He had also figured out that it was another tale I’d spun myself, which was much harder not to be self-conscious about, despite the fact that he was nothing but encouraging.  I’m still not convinced the story was actually all that good, but it felt nice all the same to hear him talk about it like it was.

By the time we reached the house it had already stopped raining, but Pat invited me in anyway.  I helped him put on some tea, and after several minutes of sitting down and making further small talk, Pat said that, as nice as this morning’s been, I had the look of someone who wants to talk about something bothering them but is having trouble bringing it up.

As usual, he was right.  I hadn’t consciously realized I was doing that again with the avoidance until he pointed it out and was grateful for the push.  I confided that it was multiple things actually, but I’d start with the one I actually came intending to talk about.

And so I told him about the recent developments with the nightmares of the Catacomb Depths.  Of more and more being funneled ever deeper.  Of the weirdly organic nature the stone walls had taken on, the proper Catacombs left behind far above.  Of my choice months ago to actively try to go deeper, speeding up my descent.  Of how I now regretted that decision and feared I had somehow doomed myself to - at best - a lifetime of even worse nightmares than I might otherwise have had to deal with.  Of how a vague hope of finding answers at the bottom (if there is one) had turned into a fear of calamity and ruin once I get there.

Looking back, I somehow forgot to mention the idea I’d had of making use of that rhythm once more.

Unfortunately, while the old man looked on me with sympathy in his eyes and tried to comfort me the best he could, he had no answers for me this time, not even cryptic ones.  He confessed that despite his age - or perhaps for the same reasons he’d reached that age - he had never actually had a Catacomb nightmare himself.  Between that and the unspoken taboo around the subject he knew little about that dream place, probably even less than I did.  Even the outsiders he’d seen come and go over the years usually didn’t talk much about those nightmares, so if any of them had gone deep enough to see what I was seeing now they never told him about it.

The one bit of advice he could give me on it was to try to leave my fears of those dreams in dream.  Easier said than done, he admitted, but, as far as he knew no one had ever - to quote my own fears that I’d mentioned - “died or lost their minds” from dreaming too deeply.

That knowledge helped a little.  So long as I don’t let myself think too hard about all the ways regular horrifying nightmares could ruin a person that wasn’t obviously traced to said nightmare.

Perhaps Pat saw that I was starting to dwell such and needed a change in topic, or perhaps he just figured that he’d helped all he could on that particular issue, for he then asked about the other troubles I’d mentioned.

I said that this one was more of a question and curiosity that I’d been meaning to ask about than a “trouble,” although I supposed certain implications of it could be troubling.  And thus I went on to tell him about the ruins we’d found on Iole’s island that looked to be the remains of a second village (Village?).

When I finished my explanation of what we found and asked him if he knew about it, he said that he did.  He’d actually seen them himself in his younger days, tagging along with his outsider friend who would one day find the edge of the world, and in the many years since then a handful of other outsiders had found it and asked the same question with the same implication I was asking now.  And to them he told the same thing he went on to tell me: Like the cathedral, those ruins were old even when he was young.  The only one who might know the truth behind them is Theo, and, as I well know, the old guardian’s not inclined to give answers.  That said, when Pat and his childhood friend returned to the Village from that particular excursion and started talking about those ruins, it was the first time Pat ever recalled seeing Theo angry and he started laying into Pat’s friend (who had always been more about exploration for exploration’s sake rather than finding answers) about the danger of too much digging and asking “why”.  Since then, Pat had always suspected that other Village of being the reason for Theo’s attitude toward questions, but had no proof.  On the other hand, perhaps Theo simply sought to spare the residents of this Village from the existential dread that can arise from the implication that their home might not be eternal.

At that last point, I mentioned that Lin and Cass had certainly been disturbed by the finding.  Similarly with when we found that metal pillar out at sea, but I suspect that was for a different reason.  That then got Pat asking about the pillar since it was the first I’d mentioned it.  After I’d described that encounter Pat mused that it was probably related to Cloud Tower in some form, inspiring the same aversion that most villagers seem to have to it but none - himself included - ever seem able to properly describe or put into words.  Indescribable, yet distinct enough that they actually had a word for it /\/\/\/ 

Okay, ow… and it seems that it’s another one of those rare words like the actual name for fairy juice that I just can’t seem to properly “translate” and concentrating too hard on trying to figure out how to write it down brings back the old headaches.  For now, I suppose I’ll just refer to it as “tower fear.”

But back to my talk with Pat.  What’s left there is to tell of it at any rate.  Eventually, after some more gentle prodding from Pat, we got around to the last of the things that had really been bothering me.  And in typical fashion, with it being the one bothering me the most, it was the hardest for me to make myself talk about.

And thus, with no little amount of stumbling, false starts, overlong-pauses, and talking in circles, I started to confide in Pat about my recent worries regarding Lin ever since she got back.  Ever since she ran off, really.

For better or for worse though, “started to” is the operative phrase there.  I was still trying to get my feelings in a coherent order when someone started knocking at the door.  Relieved at the excuse to stop talking for a moment, I hopped up and told Pat I’d get the door for him.

It was Lin.

She was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.  The most expression I’d seen her show since she got back.

An uncomfortable silence as we tried to find what to say.

She apologized for interrupting and said she could come back later.

I lied and said that I was just getting ready to head back to the library anyway, so it was no problem.

Silence again as we both stood in the doorway.

In a flash, I imagined throwing my arms around her.  Hugging her tight and tearfully saying that I’m glad she’s back.  Assuring her that I know she’s hurting and that I and others care for her and are here to help.  Confessing that I think of her as my best friend and am there for her the way she’s been there for me.  Telling her that I know Maiko will be back eventually and that I believe they’ll be able to work things out and be happy together.  Reminding her that however bad things might seem she’s not alone.

I stepped aside so she could enter, grabbed my umbrella from where it was leaning against the door, told her that it was nice to see her again and that she knew where to find me if she needed anything, and departed.

As I left, Pat called out that regarding the last thing we talked about I just need to trust myself and do what feels right.

Easier said than done Pat, but I appreciate your faith in me.

<==Previous          Next==>

[perfectbeaute110]

💟 Makeup! Glasses!💟

Do you wear glasses and maybe don't know how to flatter your face with makeup? Do you automatically gravitate towards contacts because of this? I felt this way for a short while, until I realized that looking good with glasses comes down to two things: finding the right frames for your face, and knowing how to apply makeup to compliment your frames.

I won't be getting into picking frames for your face shape, but I will be sharing some "tutorial" charts (they're very simple) of sorts based on looks I've done that look good when I wear glasses, and some general tips and tricks. (Also please excuse my bad drawing skills.)

Keep in Mind

The main thing to keep in mind when wearing glasses is that people will be more drawn to the upper portion of your face. Hence, why eye makeup is the most important aspect of your look. As well as your cheeks, and brows. These allow focus to return to the center of your face rather than just the upper portion.

This isn't a set in stone rule though. Feel free to do what you want with your makeup, but I've found this works for lots of people who wear glasses.

General

• Make sure your eyebrows are groomed. Since the area around your eyes will be on display, making sure your eyebrows are groomed too makes you look put together. You don't even have to shape them, just clean them up with tweezers and cut the extra long hairs!

• Another eyebrow tip: If you don't want your glasses to mess up your eyebrows, use clear mascara and/or edge control to keep them in place! It was really a game changer for me even when I didn't wear my glasses.

• Depending on your type of prescription, your eyes will shrink, become enlarged, or stay the same. If your eyes stay the same size, you can have more leniency with your eye looks. If you have smaller eyes, wearing brighter makeup will help your eyes appear larger. If your eyes become bigger, wearing darker shades will tone down the size of your eyes. Keep this in mind as these looks might not work for you!!! My glasses personally keep my eyes the same size.

Natural/Simple

Makeup

1. Brows

- Fill your brows in sparse areas and/or to darken them to fit your frames. I'm not really adding it to the photo as it's not the most important part of the makeup.

2. Eyes

- Make your eyeshadow simple. Use a light nude/cream color on your lid. Then, add in a dark brown on the outer edges to help bring dimension back to the eye. Then, bring that dark brown slightly towards your lower lid. However, if you don't like this idea, using a subtle shimmer all over your lid works too! You can do your mascara/lashes as normal.

3. Blush

- Having your blush closer to your frames is really going to help make your makeup pop. You can apply it to the center of your cheeks and closer to your under eye to help create fuller cheeks. If you want more defined cheeks, apply blush more on your cheekbones but still slightly high up.

4. Highlighter

- If you can see those little yellowish specks on the drawings nose and upper lip, I meant for those to be highlighter points, haha.

Having highlighter in these places can help bring some balance back to the rest of your face by adding that beautiful shimmer. You only need a little, but it can help make a difference!

5. Lips

- Making sure your lip products look natural and/or subtle is going to help make sure your eyes stand out. Pick a gloss or lipstick close to your lip shade, or wear clear!

6. Extra

- If you want more attention on your eyes and/or something slightly more dramatic, feel free to add glitter to your under eyes and on your lid if you do the more dimension based eyeshadow instead of just glitter.

Dramatic Makeup

1. Brows

- The same rules apply as the first chart.

2. Eyes

- For a more dramatic look, I would definitely go with a darker eye look.

Apply a base shade that's light and/or transition shade onto your lid. Then, take a dark brown or even black, and blend and smoke out the shadow on the edges of your eyes. Bring it down slightly/under your lower lid. If you want, add glitter to your lid as well or your under eye.

3. Blush

- The same rules apply as the first chart.

4. Highlighter

- The same rules apply as the first chart.

5. Lips

- The same rules apply as the first chart.

6. Extra

- If you want, feel free to apply colored mascara to your eyes if you want them to pop! It'd be even prettier if you matched your mascara color to your eye color.