#they're always so fancy

[felinenthusiast]

packing up lots of stuff to move and waah we have acquired so much lovely art we haven't had a chance to display in this place ;0;

also so many of these are outdated designs (they're all at least 5 years old) but aaa I love that I got so many physical commissions of OCs and conventions!! Idk it's really nice having these as physical artifacts...

also lastly. happened upon the pullip (family) card collection.. we have a normal amount of dolls

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy scenes ↳ 5x10 - The List

[starleska]

before you say it about Maxime, i know. i know. i KNOW-

[seepingfrommyskin]

every time i play ffvi and i see tina i always just wonder why they (the empire) had her wearing that (gorgeous) outfit instead of like. another good ol' outfit that biggs and wedge or any of the other soldiers wear??

this goes for celes too like YES they're apart of the TERRIFYING and POWERFUL Gestahlian empire! but also their outfits will k*ll you with how hard they're serving cunt and their lethal face cards will also k*ll you more than any magical spell they could cast or any attack they could possibly hit you with.

[jeeaark]

It's kinda weird that Omeluum has a yellow glow "on top" of his black eyes. I, have no idea why. Or why Emperor has "human", ish, eyes, but a player Illithid has "soulless" black eyes.

My guess is as good as yours, buddy!

Perhaps it's the same reason why Tav's got a beak and The Emperor's got a lamprey mouth. Or why tieflings and dragonborns have tails or no tails and come in ∞+ colors. Biological variation babeeeeeey. Maybe even tadpoles have their own individualistic traits that you inherit.

or because magic. I like that they help open up the idea that illithids have anatomical variation like that though! Keeps things interesting~

[crowdeerdire]

Scars

a/n: Just a blurb about how Kel got her scar on her legs and of Cove finally asking about it. This would take place in Step 3 sometime after Reflection where Cove explains how he broke his arm.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask… How did you get this scar?”

It was a sunny afternoon where Kel and Cove were lounging around in his room, just spending time with one another in comfortable silence.

Cove laid back along his bed, his head resting upon his pillows as his phone sat on his chest now. Kel, however, laid with her head resting at the foot of the bed, legs up with knees locked as she pressed her feet against the top of Cove’s bunk bed. Being in that position and with shorts on, the long jagged and faded scar on her right leg was apparent in the afternoon light.

“You know how I broke my arm…” Cove continued, his voice becoming thoughtful as he looked at the scar on Kel’s leg, seeing how it was beginning to fade into her pale skin. Without a second thought he reached up, fingers ghosting along the scar tissue, mentally trying to see if he could figure out the puzzle before Kel could even answer.

“You’ve had this since I’ve known you.”

If Cove had been paying a bit more attention to the way Kel reacted to his touch, he would have noticed the small jump and shiver that ran through her. Her legs stiffened, refusing to move as his fingers danced along her scar.

“O-oh…” Kel stammered, trying not to focus on what her crush was currently doing, touching her so easily. Sure they held hands and hugged… but this was new territory. “D-… did I never tell you the story?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Cove murmured back, choosing to run the rough pad of his thumb over the scar, tracing the way it ran along the full width of Kel’s thigh, “And you have one on the front of your thigh, too, right?”

Kel took in a shaky breath, heart racing against her ribs so loudly she was certain Cove could hear it. However, with one peek past her legs she could see the faraway look in his eyes that he sometimes got when he was lost in thought. A small huff escaped her nose when she realized she doubted Cove really registered what he was doing.

How cruel.

“W-well,” Kel began before clearing her throat, trying to make sure her voice was even. She would sit up then and explain to him the story if he wasn’t busy touching her. And, well… the fact that she really liked the feeling.

“It’s not as interesting as your jet skiing story.” Kel chuckled as her gray eyes found the wood texture on the ceiling, trying to focus on that as she told her story. “But I fell out of a tree.”

“A tree?” Cove finally stopped running his fingers over Kel’s scar then as he sat up, more curious about the story. “Really? But it’s such a big scar?”

Kel couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated that he stopped, but she soldiered on as she sat up, meeting him in the middle of the bed with a small snort. “Well that’s because when I landed a whole ass branch was jammed through my leg.”

Cove outwardly winced, seeming to fidget at the mere idea of a whole branch through Kel’s leg. It was not a pretty mental image, especially since he knew she would have gotten it before she was eight. Little Kel that injured was not something he wanted to think about… Which made him sympathize with her reaction when he told her about the jet skiing story.

“Oh my god that sounds awful.”

Kel gave a lazy shrug with one shoulder before shifting her position so she sat on her legs. Moving her shorts a bit, she exposed the much smaller and lighter scar that was on the top of her thigh, about one fifth of the size of the one in the back.

“I mean it wasn’t fun.. And to be honest? I don’t remember much. I mostly know what happened because of Liz and moms.” She said softly, a far away look casting on her own face as she tried to remember all she was told.

“You know how wild and weird I was as a kid, right?” Kel said then, coming back from her memories and gaining a snort and laugh from Cove as she brought up her eight year old self. “Well, when I was seven I started to REALLY enjoy climbing things. Like… anything I could.”she laughed, “And apparently trees were my favorite. Especially this really old one out back on poppy hill.”

Cove knew of the tree Kel spoke about. Nowadays it was just a stump since it had begun to rot about five years back. Maybe it was rotting even before then if Kel had fallen out of it?

“Anyways, that day I climbed as high as I could. I kind of remember seeing the ocean from up there. Liz was there too, yelling at me to get down.” Kel chuckled at the memory, her sister's nagging voice clear in her mind. “Well, just then the branch I was on snapped. This is where my memory goes.” She nodded, “But Liz says I hit like five branches on the way down before landing on the ground with one of them stuck through my leg. Apparently it’s a miracle that was the worst of my injuries. I guess I was a spry kid.”

With the last of her story told, Kel leaned back on her hands, giving another lazy shrug as she tilted her head, watching Cove’s reaction. He looked like he was really contemplating the story despite there not being much.

“And that’s it.” Kel added, hoping to prompt his delayed reaction. “Kind of boring, eh?”

Cove let out a small ‘hm’ before finally firmly nodded, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah, not as cool as mine. At least I got to ride a jet ski.”

Kel gasped, offended that was his conclusion. With a huff of fake anger, she grabbed his pillow and slapped him in the face. “Cove Holden! You’re so frickin’ rude!”

Last time she told him a cool story.

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[thresholdbb]

I should've known, but it's astounding how many dudes who've never made a thing in their lives have unsolicited cosplay advice for me simply because I've committed the unforgivable sin of being female on the internet

[stacytea]

so recently my friend got me into watching x-men and ofc we both went crazy over cherik (bt that's not the important thing here) the important thing here is that I live in this world for almost 20 years already and it's just this week I've found out that chess can a metaphor for having sex lemme just PLAYING CHESS IS A METAPHOR FOR HAVING SEX and what does it mean? it means that since maces and talons r basically an in-universe version of chess......

[askfallenroyalty]

thinkin about how gender they are and it makes me happy

they're a precious (metal) to me. i love them already

[daz4i]

all aboard

[byberbunk2069]

Girls Night and they are pre-gaming.

w/ @gibson-girlboss’s OCs, Anna (leatehr cut off) and Valerie (gold dress)

[draconic-distress]

pkmn ship week Days 1 and 2, Confession and Swap! i forgor this started on the 4th so i speedran these but they're not terrible at least :/

[sysig]

Everyone needs a sugar-sweet mergirlfriend! (Patreon)

[fabdante]

Hello! About your princes of limbo au you mentioned that Dante has two pet demon dogs, do you have names for them? If not, sorry for asking!

hello!! i think their names are petunia and daisy!! if they weren't, they are now because i love those names for them.

[copper-dragon-in-disguise]

I would very much like to know who thought it was a good idea to have a school wide bbq, outside, during a heatwave