one of a kind body chain

Of Comforting Hands (Elriel)

Angst with a fluffy ending. Written for this prompt: ‘Elain helping Az when he has some sort of breakdown’.

He dreamt of fire, of flames scorching a path up small, vulnerable hands. He dreamt of brothers laughing cruelly, of the smell of burnt flesh, of screaming he barely recognized as his own. The pain was immense, even in this twisted version of reality, the fire biting into his hands with the kind of mindless viciousness that nature often wrought.

Cauldron, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt and he was screaming for help, crying out for it, but no one came, no one came. Fingers dug into his shoulders and arms, holding him down so he that he couldn’t move back from the fire. He struggled with all his might but his wings, useless things, were tied to his body and his legs were chained and even if he were free, his brothers were so big, how was he supposed to fight them and win?

Azriel screamed and screamed and screamed.

In his true memories, his screams had finally gotten loud enough to attract a wayward servant. But in his dreams, in his nightmares, his screaming did nothing but make his brothers laugh harder, make their hold tighter as the fire continued to climb up his blistering, melting skin. 

The fire was almost at his face now, the smoke in the room thick and black and choking him even as his body burned to the bone. He wanted it to end, please he just wanted it to end.

Make it stop. Stop. Stop. Please– 

And then there was a blissfully familiar voice – so gentle, so different from the screams of his nightmares. 

“Azriel,” the voice said, sweet-sounding but rife with worry, “Azriel, wake up. It’s a nightmare.” 

The fire wasn’t stopping, it wasn’t slowing. It was going to burn him alive

Wake. Up.”

Azriel sat up with a wild, near-silent gasp, his eyes opening to the calm serenity of his bedroom. He barely managed to stop his shadows bursting from him, the sheer panic almost enough to make him lose control. He tried to calm his thundering heart, tried to stop the shaking of his scarred hands, but the nightmare was still right there, living on his mottled skin. It was getting hard to breathe.

“Azriel?” Elain asked at his side, delicate hands hovering over him.

Elain. Lovely Elain. Mother above, I wish she didn’t have to see me like this. She didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone so utterly broken inside, not after all of her own struggles. He would never forgive himself for the first time she woke him mid-night terror, when he’d almost hurt her in his delirium. The nightmare he’d had that night had been particularly bad… because worse were the nightmares where the fire wasn’t burning him, where it burned Rhys or Cassian or Mor or Feyre… or Elain. Mother and Cauldron both, what he would give to never see those images in his head ever again. What he would give to protect her, to protect all of them, from the darkness he very literally brought everywhere with him.

(And yet he couldn’t find it in himself to push her away now… or ever. His brothers were right, after all. He was weak.)

“Just – give me a moment,” Azriel finally managed to say with a shuddering breath. He turned so his legs were hanging off the bed, letting his head fall into hands for a long moment (he didn’t have to keep looking at them like this). His eyes stung with unshed tears.

And he couldn’t – he couldn’t breathe properly.

“Oh Azriel,” Elain said, cool fingers finally making contact with him. One hand curled around the back of his neck, thumb gentle against the hinge of his jaw, while the other took hold of his trembling bicep. She didn’t let go for even a moment as she climbed closer to him, until she was plastered against his side, leaning her forehead against his temple.

“Breathe with me,” she whispered, her fingers ever so soft as they traced circles into his sweat-glistened skin.

Azriel gulped in one breath. Then another. And another. And another… until he felt his chest rise and fall in time with Elain’s. Something like relief shuddered its way through him. It hadn’t been so bad this time. 

He lifted his head, shocked to find his cheeks wet. Elain gazed at him with heavy eyes, but a small, proud smile played at her lips. She took his face in between her hands, thumbing away the only physical evidence of his nightmares. Slowly, so slowly, she pulled him down to her, placing a soft, soft kiss on his forehead.

Azriel felt something desperate release in his chest and suddenly couldn’t keep his scarred hands away from her anymore. He wrapped both his arms around Elain’s slight body, pulling her into his lap, her legs dangling between his. Elain wrapped her own arms around Azriel’s neck as he bent down to rest his head against her chest, his ear over her heart. Her fingers combed through his sleep-mussed hair as she hummed faintly under breath, rocking slowly back and forth with him.

She was so small in his embrace, so slight compared to his bulk, but Azriel felt completely wrapped in her, completely surrounded by her soothing, familiar scent. He found his fingers tangling in her thin nightdress, his eyes gradually closing. Elain’s arms tightened around him, her humming only pausing so she could kiss the top of his head.

Now was not the time for talk, they both knew. That could come tomorrow, along with everything else. For now, all he wanted to do was sit here, wrapped in Elain, the steady thump of her heartbeat and that soft humming of hers forever soothing him.

And, when Elain was plagued by visions, when her own sleep became plagued by nightmares, Azriel would do the exact same for her. He would sit with her and soothe her and he would wait. He would always wait for her to be ready.

As she would for him.

soulmates see color (IzuMito)

Happy late birthday @elenathehun​.  I wrote IzuMito like you wanted ^.^  💕 

(AO3 link - contains all author notes)

This is fucking ridiculous.

Izuna drags a hand down his face, closing his eyes to the massive warehouse full of various merchandise, and sincerely regrets asking his father for this mission. He certainly hadn’t wanted to accompany Uncle Kenrou’s group to the western desert with his brother (of all miserable places), but he also hadn’t realized at the time that he’d have to track this group of thieves south and east to cut over nearly the entirety of Hi no Kuni, sneak past patrols from several different clans (most of whom would love to kill him), and then curve back upwards to stop within kunai-throwing distance of the Yu no Kuni border.

And now he’s finally caught up to his quarry, except they’ve already sold his client’s priceless (and pointless) trinket to a merchant.

A very successful merchant.

One who possess an unnecessarily large stock in his opinion and is either the most disorganized and eclectic woman Izuna’s ever come across or who has evidently met her soulmate and decided afterwards to implement a color-based organizational scheme among her products.

Which makes this night so much better given that to him everything just looks like a mass of yellows and grays with a scattering of blues.

Keep reading

Happy Birthday, Jo <3 <3 <3

“My lady.”

“My lord.”

“I need a cloak.”

“A cloak, my lord? Are you asking for the return of the one you oh-so-gallantly draped over my naked, shivering body, the day my men presented me to you in chains?”

“No! You may keep that one, if you wish, or -”

“Keep it, as a constant reminder of your kindness and your gallantry?”

“Or throw it away. Or burn it, if you wish. It is yours now, to do to your liking. I need a cloak in Durrand … in Baratheon colors. To serve as the bride’s cloak at our wedding.”

“Am I not to be cloaked with Targaryen colors, on that auspicious day?”

“You are not marrying a Targaryen, my lady. The Durrandon’s sigil and colors will be the Baratheon’s sigil and colors, as I have told you. There is still a war raging in the realm, and I must be by my king’s side to fight it. There is no time to have a new bride’s cloak made. Hence -”

“Hence you wish to appropriate a Durrandon bride’s cloak instead.”

“I wish to borrow one.”

“Well, this one was the Durrandon bride’s cloak once draped over the shoulders of my lady mother, and my lady grandmother before that. My lord father had hoped that a son of his would, in time, draped his own bride with this same cloak, but alas, the gods saw fit to take all my brothers in their cradles. If my brothers had lived, perhaps you would not be able to make so free with a Durrandon cloak now. Or Durrandon lands.”

“We had the stronger force. Even a son of Argilac Durrandon would have been defeated. I’m certain your courage matched the courage that any brother of yours would have shown, my lady.”

“Oh, it was not my courage that was ever in question, my lord. I had courage enough to match any man. It was the courage of men that was lacking; craven, cowardly men who believed a woman could never hold a castle and a kingdom the way a man could, and thus decided to betray their rightful queen. You should pray to the gods that your sons live to adulthood, my lord, or the reign of House Baratheon in the stormlands may not be as long-lived as you hope.”


Sapphirina copepod, a.k.a. “sea sapphire” is a tiny shrimp like crustacean that makes up the bottom of the food chain. The microscopic layers of crystal plates inside their cells catch light and reflect back different hues, from bright gold to deep blue that resembles like a gem. 

When they’re abundant near the water’s surface the sea shimmers like diamonds falling from the sky. Japanese name this kind of water, “tama-mizu”, jeweled water. Combine this nifty trick with the sea sapphire’s impressively transparent body, and you have an animal as radiant as a star in one moment, and invisible in the next.

The Lap Dance - (Joker x Reader)

Originally posted by grysamobojcow

Warning(s): Light smut

Pairing: Joker x Reader

The fiery golden club lights loomed over the thugs and goons-for-hire in the luxurious strip club. The loud, blaring music thumped throughout the club, rumbling and rattling through the patrons, forcing them to sway and twist to the repetitive beat. Women, half-naked, waltz around the windowless building handing out drinks and lap dances, some even handed out there bodies for the right price. But, alas it was a normal sight: Strippers grinding on the flaxen pole, while gangsters tossed their blood money around, buying drinks and women of their choice. 

The Joker enjoyed the sight he was seeing in his designated private lounge. His strip club was flourishing right before his very eyes. All the money this club alone was earning him made his pale face stretch into a wide corrupted grin, it was an understatement to say he was proud of this club, of his club.

His royal blue eyes flicked and lingered around the club, not paying attention to the crime boss that sat before him, the thug droning on and on about how him and Joker should team up and take down Batman. But Joker could careless, the only thing the green haired man was worried about was the one and only; (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

He slowly licked his lips as he saw you grip the pole, rubbing your exotic body against it, your face hazy in faux lust. Your body was clad in a over size white dress shirt, it wasn’t button all the way, showing off your perky breast. And your lower half was covered in lilac colored panties, the lacy kind he ever so enjoyed. Your hair was messy and wild and the multiple golden chains that hung around your neck swung and tossed around. Joker was amazed at how you looked and how you moved. He personally picked out that outfit for you, it was his shirt and chains that you wore, and my god, did he wanted to ravage and fuck the ever living shit out of you. 

Your body wiped to the beat, while multiple dollar bills were tossed your way. Even though you were a stripper, nothing abnormal about you, you still caught the eye of the Clown Prince of Crime. The snowy white shirt fluttered off your shoulders and stopped around your lower arms, you winked when the crowd full of horny men wailed when they saw your upper body bare. The Joker leaned in his wide orbs peering through your body.

He wanted you now.

“Jonny,” Joker blurted out, cutting off the fellow crime lord that sat in front of him. 

“Yeah, boss?” The bodyguard, and right hand man for the Joker spoke, his arms crossed behind his back. The low-level goon’s face scrunched up in a deadpanned expression, only making Joker chuckle. 

“Ah, the look on your face! You’re so intense, Jonny-Boy!” He chuckled out. The random crime boss let out a strained chuckle, his dark eyes flicking towards Joker and Frost. 

“I’m just yanking your chain, Frost! Y’know; ‘Playful Banter’, hm?”

The bearded man nodded his head, his face still in that same expression, only blinking from time to time. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase, really. I want you to bring that girl up here, now. Capiche?” The Joker said, lazily pointing a long pale finger that was decked out in golden skull rings your way, your body sprawled out on the stage floor, you were playing the with money that practically smothered out the golden floor. Frost nodded his head and left the large private lounge, a long pause erupted between Joker and the nameless crime boss.

And before the older man can speak to Joker the heavy door swung open, reviling Frost and yourself. Joker’s face contorted into his infamous smirk.

“Ah, (Y/N)! Come over here and give Daddy a lap dance.” He tossed his purple cane to the said as you quickly made your way towards the clown, straddling him while you rubbed your chest against his, his wide hands hungrily rubbing your hips and playing with the hem of your panties. 

“Um, we can talk about this later if–”

“No, no, no. You’ve went out of your way to see me, driving all the way across town and such. I don’t wanna be rude and let you leave so soon,” Joker said, his hands now slowly playing with your breast, making your moan out.

“Continue, please…” Joker laughed, enjoying the discomfort he made the the crime boss feel. But non the less, the man continued to speak. But again, the Joker didn’t listen nor pay any attention as you began to plant small kisses over his face, making the man underneath you growl. You giggled when you felt the familiar bulge pressing agents your womanhood. 

The Joker was getting turned on, and just the thought of you making him feel like this turned you on. 

Your hand raced down his hard toned chest towards his expensive name brand pants. You smiled when the Joker groaned out at your touch, your fingers then began to snake inside his pants, playing with his thick shaft. His rough hands held your arms, holding you in place. You then began to pump him, jerking the older man, who is also your boss, off right in front of an intimidating crime boss.

He shivered underneath you as you began to pump harder, pushing the Joker over the edge. His precum creating a lubricant. He let out a shallow chuckle as your thumb played with his tip. 

He was close you knew he was. But it was boring to just let him come, oh, you were gonna have fun. You pulled your hand out of his pants, making him grunt in annoyance. You pulled yourself off of him, and to be yanked back onto his lap. 

“What do you think you’re doing, darling?”

“Oh, nothing, boss. It’s just that you’re in a middle of an important meeting, and it’s awfully rude to fuck a stripper in the middle of that meeting.”

“Are you telling me what to do, (Y/N).” He spat out, eyes glaring at you. You laughed and nodded, slipping out his grip and strutting off, your hips swaying with each step, leaving the royal like room. 

“You’re in a world full of trouble.”

“Why don’t you punish me for it, huh?”

He smirked as he saw your body leave, he was gonna have fun with you later.                           

His World: Restraint Drabbles

Request from @wiz-witch. This set is a lot more angsty than what I normally write, so be warned. 

1. Broken

This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this. Agent Murphy, no, Milo, stolen from his time period and led away in chains. His smile strained at the corners, no longer bright and carefree. A boy who pushed through bad luck with a spring in his step, a child hanging out with his friends, a son who brought much joy to his family….

Never again. They broke him. He broke him. All because of his ridiculous pride. His stupid, foolish obsession with saving the world has led to many idiotic mistakes before, but none were as grave as ripping a child from a secure, loving home. 

The Bureau’s praise rang hollow. Oh, how he wished he could rip the document that detailed his promotion into shreds and shove it all down Block’s stupid throat. Though the satisfaction wouldn’t last. It would never last. 

Dakota wouldn’t speak to him. Or even look at him. He was right. Should’ve listened. Should’ve appreciated him more. Now his colleague and only friend hated him. 

Not a hero. Just a villain. 

2. Chains

The holding cell was nice. In movies, prisons were dingy, dusty, filled with rats and gigantic, hardened crooks who beat you up the moment you looked at one funny. But not here. In a way, it was almost worse. 

The cell reminded him of his personal suite in the hospital. White, sterile walls, one door in the front, a small bed in the middle. But there were no family and friends to cheer him up with flowers and food, or to sign a brand new cast with messy scribbles, or promises to record the new Dr. Zone episodes so he could catch up on what he missed. Not in this place. 

They had confiscated his backpack the moment he arrived. He had no tools to undo the shackles on his hands that bound him to the wall. He was free to pace the length of the room, sure, the chains gave him some freedom. But they stopped him when he was mere feet from the door, as if taunting him with the promise of freedom but dangling it ever so slightly out of his reach. 

Words floated down from the observation deck above. Dangerous, jinx, erasure, prevention, they murmured. He couldn’t hear entire sentences or their exact plans, but there was no reason that they couldn’t let him be free. Right? He managed to survive. He pulled through. He always came through. So…


It wasn’t so bad! They still fed him at least! And there was a bouncy ball he could throw at the wall! Maybe he could request some colored pens and paper so he doodle and brighten up this lonely, white place! Did they even have those? 

Murphy’s Law was unusually silent. He couldn’t even count on his condition to accompany him now. Let something happen. Anything. It could be a falling vase-no, there wasn’t a vase in here- or a crashing helicopter full of marmots (but they were inside), just… something! Anything!

The door opened, and James Bond undid his chains. Or at least, a man that heavily resembled James Bond. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He wanted to ask, but his throat was too parched. A beautiful woman offered him water, and he gratefully gulped it down. She said he’d need it for the interrogation. 

He wanted to trust them. He really did. 

3. Night

In the past, the night sky offered a gorgeous view of the stars, people pointing out all the zodiac signs, constellations, and planets they could possibly name. Now, Dakota could barely see them. 

Milo needed to shine. He had so much to offer, and they cruelly ripped away his future. For the greater good? How was kidnapping and interrogating someone just because they were extra unlucky for the greater good? Why didn’t he fight Cavendish over this? Why did he not step in, cause a distraction, do anything to prevent him from being kidnapped? 

Dakota needed to get some things off his chest. He crept out of the sleeping quarters, maybe he could see Milo and apologize. For everything. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he whirled around to face Cavendish. Anger boiled up inside at seeing his face, but he held back. Never, in all their missions, had Cavendish looked exhausted. Old, even.  

Cavendish pointed to the holding cell. Dakota could set his anger aside for now. Oh, he still wanted to take his partner’s ego down a few pegs, but seeing Milo safely home was the most important mission now. 

They used their night vision goggles to navigate through the darkness. Dakota’s heart sank as they approached the cell. Of course Savannah and Brick would be assigned as night guards. 

Savannah exchanged a few heated words with Cavendish, berating him for allowing a child to be subject to the Bureau’s brutal interrogation techniques. It was a wonder Milo hadn’t snapped from the unbearable pressure. He was truly extraordinary. Brick said nothing, but passed a heavy, brown backpack to them. It was the one Milo always wore. A security blanket to anchor him to his loved ones. 

The door opened, though Savannah and Brick remained at their posts. On the small bed, Milo clutched the thin blanket tightly. It wasn’t cold, but Milo’s body shivered and shook as he cried quietly. 

Dakota dropped the backpack on the space beside Milo. The child looked up in surprise, then dove into his track suit, clinging to any kindness this horrible place had left. He awkwardly rubbed Milo’s back as he sobbed, but Cavendish stayed by the door, unwilling to interrupt. But Milo noticed, then tried to approach him. The chains held him back, keeping him several feet away from comforting the older man. 

Enough was enough. Dakota broke the chain with a sharp metal file, and kicked them aside. No more chains. And certainly never on Milo. 

Milo rubbed his sore wrists, then held his hand out towards Cavendish. He offered him a tiny smile. Cavendish hesitated, his arms folded around his chest defensively. Slowly, he reached out and took Milo’s hand, finally returning that same bright smile. Then he calibrated the Temporal Transporter, setting it to the 21st century. 

Dakota squeezed Cavendish’s arm. Next time they’d work through their hardships together. He couldn’t stay angry. Not when Cavendish had finally recognized his mistakes. 

A portal opened in front of them, a view of the Murphy’s home sitting in the middle of swirling blue mist. Milo glanced between them, slipping on his backpack. He waved, then stepped through. Dakota and Cavendish waved back, cutting off the connection. 

They could entrust Savannah and Brick to come up with a cover story. Their word held more weight after all. Block would likely strip their promotions in the morning, but they were all right with that. They had successfully completed one mission. 

Milo was home. 

I dont get why tyrell is always used to labelled tyrelliot as unhealthy. To be fair every character in this show is unhealthy if you haven’t notice this then…umm…like…what kind of fucking show do you think you’re watching here, asswipe? Seriously every single character in this show is toxic. And to be honest I like that kind of dynamic they are doing with this flawed characters. This show shows us that no body is perfect.That this characters are just humans and very well damaged due to their experiences etc etc. Non of them are perfect but this thing about hating on one character because he /she doesn’t ship a ship is fucking ridiculous

Heres the list of each of the main character and their flaws/ unhealthy traits for you:

Angela: She lies that she broke chain of custody with the .dat file which she was warn by gideon that by doing that will put allsafe out of business and 100s of employees will lose their job in the process but despite of the warning she still did it. She also used ollie’s card and desk to install the cd which infected allsafe. She also took the job in e corp and try to manipulate price trying to get her boss in the pr department fire so she can take her place(which price didn’t grant) but she lacked the empathy to care how ones life will be affected after losing their job considering that she has been in that position. Also helping on hacking the fbi to cover herself up with what she did with infecting allsafe.

Elliot/Mr Robot: the brains of all the chaos in the show when it comes to the 5/9 and stage 2. Had a plan to erase all of physical data base of e corp by triggering an explosion which will cause a lot of lives to be lost in the process. Also mentally unstable and cant distinguish hallucinations from reality.Has a morphine addiction. Has another personality aka mr robot tends to be violent and impulse as well as not caring about big repercussions of his plan to take down e corp.

Darlene: She created a rootkit which was used to delete all digital files of e corp (aka 5/9). She manipulate cisco, trenton, and mobley to get what she wants and lies to them about information that may cause them to leave f society. Also killing susan jacobs and burning her body in a dog oven. Plus telling Cisco about not feeling bad about killing susan.

Tyrell: beats homeless people when mad. Uses sex to get what he wants (e.g with price’s secretary). Also encouraging adultery and killing sharon noels. Has bad temper. And can easily be controlled by mr robot and joanna. Also works on stage two that will kill a lot of people. Arrogant. Have a massive amount of ego and is run by it.

Joanna: do I even have to explain joanna…well she only stabbed herself with a folk while being pregnant to get tyrell out of the situation of getting arrested. also manipulates tyrell to getting what she wants(eg asking him to have sex with the red head and to give her the girl’s earrings after wards). Getting herself beat up by provoking scott noels about his dead wife and child. She shows her self up to derrick all beaten up so that she can manipulate him to be a witness and frame scott noels for his wife’s death. She asked mr sutherland to kill kareem and to make it look like a burglary, framing an ex-con who lives in the same floor. She forced and threaten elliot into helping her trace the phone number who she assumes to be tyrell’s.

But you get the point , right? That every single character in this show have fair share of flaws and have done questionable acts.It’s not just tyrell or elliot.

bluestarsaber  asked:

I've kinda taken an interest in drawing knights and I was wondering if you know of any real life knights designs that women wore because I believe there were some knight orders that allowed women in their ranks and I would rather not take inspiration from the designs in most fantasy games.

I think if you’re going for a very realistic look most people say women hadn’t armor designed for themselves, but wore the same armor design as men… as the one in the battlefield were so little they might not have it designed specifically for themselves but rather get some old armor that belonged to someone else…

I tend to disagree with this view. 

Let me be more specific, if you’re talking about medieval knights only, then it would depend on the period and type of armor. For most of the medieval ages the armor used was actually chain mail with some sort of padded armor such as surcoat acting as textile protection… for this kind of armor I think would be easily adaptable for any body type including a woman, and would look ok

As time went by, people started wearing more and more plate armor. Plate armor is another story… I think the common opinion is that it would look the exact same on men and women. Still, I think some detailing can be added to it to make it more interesting… I don’t know exactly what you have in mind but…

I don’t really know of any real life example of a medieval knight’s outfit designed for women, sadly.. if there ever was any (which I think did exist) but its highly likely the church made them virtually disappear from history.

As for femininity, I have a problem with the general discourse surrounding armors. 

Most people would say that a female knight would have to keep her hair short or bound at all times, etc.. while we see in truth some real life knights had extremely impractical apparel, at least the richest and showy kind of knight. Apparently no one went around telling them to be more practical, in this strict sense.

So I can’t see why a woman can’t keep some of her ‘feminine’ tributes while being a baddass and killing some people off. Its not because she’s a knight that she’s got to ‘turn into a man’. She’s still her own person and I’d like my characters to express their personalities… if a woman is very delicate and ‘womanly’ I think she would still keep some of those traits no matter the situation, if she isn’t caring much about it then I’d go full practical or whatever suits her.

One aspect of female armor that you’ll see talked all around is the ‘boobplate’. While I agree its ridiculous, as a woman doesn’t need boob on her armors to remind you of what she is.. I still think some touch of femininity can be given through details, I mean. 

Shape can be suggested, through colors and patterns, to make any armor interesting and evoking of the appearance of your character.

Not all armor is 100% designed to be practical, I mean if you take a look at the extent of detail and fancy some armors went, especially when it surrounded noble knights. Some of them are bordering ridiculous… 

Just some weird stuff I could find. 

I can’t see why an armor commissioned for a female couldn’t be fancy too, and even silly to some extent. Armor wasn’t always designed to be only functional and as simply as possible, it was also a way to have your character and titles show off. I can’t see why a female knight couldn’t have such kind of detail set up on her suits too, showing of her rank or something..

Some nice examples I could think off, that are strong, practical to some nice extent but still look awesome:

As a word of advice I can only say.. women are people. People are always different from each other.. as one might be comfortable wearing something and other might find it unusable.. some women might feel comfortable wearing their hair down while others would find it a hassle, some would like to wear a cape while others would find it bothersome, it goes that way…

I like to play with the personality of the characters going through their clothing, so its my best advice… think about how they’d like to dress, whats appropriated for each role, etc..

If you’re looking for inspiration, I know you said you didn’t want fantasy games.. but still..

I can say some games such as Dark Souls and Dragons Dogma, or even Skyrim have some great armor design that is fantastic but realistic and respects women’s proportions while keeping them well protected. I know most of them are too fantasy-esque for what you’re looking for but still I recommend taking a look since the simplest sets are usually more realistic and could be applied to what a real life kinghtess would look like.. 

I mean, look at this character.. she’s beautiful and fierce.

Mount and Blade has extremely realistic designs (even if its a wacky game) with women dressed just as well as men… take a look at those games.

Taehyung Scenario: Lucky Number.

Request: Can you please do a taehyung soulmate scenario with a forieign girl please.  /  can I please request a love at first sight/soulmate scenario for taetae please?

Genre: Fluff / Romance.

At first nobody knew how it worked, when the tattoos first started to appear it was odd and disconcerting, people freaked out, it caused a huge commotion amongst the society.
There were studies about why people were getting tattoos on their wrists, the only conclusion they came up with was that they appeared when a person met their soulmate.

You were on a party when you realized you had it. After getting there and presenting yourself to a bunch of people you went to grab a cocktail, extending your arm to reach a cup you saw that your skin, before spotless, was now tattooed on your right wrist. Four numbers were adorning it, but you knew this tattoo meant so much more than just a mere accessory. It meant you had met the love of your life, your soulmate, the thing was that you didn’t know where or who he was.

You recalled all the people you had met before you walked to the cocktail table, the friend who had invited you there had introduced you to other guests since you didn’t really know a lot of people yet. You were new in town, only having about four months in Seoul, but you considered yourself to be very fortunate as you already had friends to hang out with and that invited you to parties. You even had a soulmate, but you had failed to noticed it on time.

The numbers on your wrist read 3016, you wondered if it would be weird to go around and ask the guests if they had the same number on their wrists, with your cocktail cup in hand you declined that idea, deciding to stay observing around instead, maybe your soulmate was looking at his wrist as well.

You wandered around, your friend by your side asking you about your country and how parties were there, if they were the same as Seoul. You were talking animatedly to her, honestly the difference wasn’t that big so you felt good and comfortable. Even if the conversation with her was interesting you knew part of your mind was still focused in finding the person who shared the same numbers as you. 

You were slowly approaching the main crowd once again, people were gathered on the dance floor, dancing and swaying to the beat of the music. You took a sip from your cocktail, moving your eyes over the mass of people, most of them koreans of course, but you could also spot other foreigns. You saw a couple dancing very intimately, breaking all stereotypes of asian pudor; some others were dancing in groups, jumping and laughing hard to the music. But then your eyes landed on a person that made your nerves shake.

It was a boy, but you couldn’t distinguish his face completely as he walked away on that precise moment. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you had to follow him, to know who he was. So you excused yourself to your friend and walked on the same direction as him.

He was walking fast and for the direction he was taking you suspected he was going outside, so you followed him there, halting on your steps when you saw he stopped at the entrance of the house. He was standing with his back to you, so all you could see of him was his long legs, he was dressed with jeans and a big dark green sweater, his hair was a light shade of brown, it seemed to be soft and silky.  

But you felt your heart skip a beat when he lifted his left arm until his wrist was on his eye level, he was examining his tattoo, like he just discovered he had one. You gasped loudly and he turned around.

Keep reading

graphicalaces  asked:

Where should I start??

well i suggest their music videos first! if you want to start off with more lighter concepts they’ve done where it’s not as crazy or out there i suggest superhero, rock your body, g.r.8.u, love equation, dynamite

if you want to start with the hardcore stuff go for voodoo doll (there’s a clean and unclean version of this music video), on and on, and hyde

if you want to go the more sensual/sexy route (when it comes to the concept or the choreography): chained up/the closer

then the ones that are kind of in the middle: eternity/error/fantasy/shangri la

those that are bolded are my personal favourites~~~

send 'em in!
  • 1. Describe your favorite kind of weather.
  • 2. If you could be literally anything other than human, what would you be?
  • 3. put your music on shuffle and tell us your favorite lines from the first 3 songs that play.
  • 4. Do you have any lucky item(s) (key chain, bracelet, socks, etc.)? What are they?
  • 5. Describe, without naming, one of your best friends.
  • 6. What kind of embarrassing phase did you go through (scene, weeaboo, etc.)?
  • 7. Describe something you don't like about your body in the most flattering way possible.
  • 8. Post a selfie of you with something you love.
  • 9. What is your favorite word? (define it please)
  • 10. What, if any, tattoos do you want and where do you want them? If you have some already, tell us about them!
  • 11. What is your favorite thing to do when you just need to get out of the house?
  • 12. Have you ever messed with a Ouija Board? Describe the experience.
  • 13. Do you have a "happy place" (like a place to mentally recover or hide or figure things out) in your head? What's it like?
  • 14. How did you meet your best friend?
  • 15. How many URLs do you have saved? What are they?
  • 16. Have you ever received flowers? What did you get them for?
  • 17. Tell the story of your first kiss. (If you haven't had a first kiss yet, is there anyone you'd like to give it away to?)
  • 18. What color are your bedroom walls? What do you have on them?
  • 19. What can you see out the nearest window?
  • 20. Give us a random fact about yourself!
#247: 'Sneak Up On Us'

Sneak Up On Us- One Shot #247

(+past one shots)

Click the (***) as you see them, to add some visuals to your reading experience. 

Something was off. You could feel it. It rattled your bones and sat low and heavy in your core. You’d woken up that morning, next to him, against scratchy hotel sheets, and to the sound of pouring rain. He was still asleep when you woke, breathing softly into the pillow. Exhausted from the previous day’s events. Small venue shows around the U.K. and Ireland to stay fresh while the band worked on putting new music together. The travel wasn’t long or too strenuous, and home was just a quick flight, or in most cases, train ride, away, should it be missed. A few dates here and there for a handful of weeks. He needed this, and if you were honest with yourself, so did you. You and Darcy joined him on weekends and days that she didn’t have Nursery, and it made you feel a little more a home. A little less distracted by the consuming, if not irrational, fear that you wouldn’t ever have another baby.  

Since the miscarriage just about six months ago, you’d dreaded being alone. You’d clung to Harry even more than you already did. He had been a lifeline, when everything felt like it was falling apart on you. Crumbling slowly, one piece at a time, until there was nothing left. He’d been crumbling too; he had just perfected the act of staying solid and strong for you. He’d left his own heartbreak, for the shower, letting the saline of his tears pool with the water as it slid from his body. Or a few moments hidden away in the closet as he dressed, where he could gather himself back together again. It had started to feel easier to move on. The pain, more of an ache you could numb, if you tried.   

Keep reading

On the assumption that Allen plus unwanted company, Johnny, Link, and Kanda go together the long way to the mansion in the wheat field, I kind of want Johnny, Link, and Kanda to yank Nea’s chain every time he wakes up in control of Allen’s body and attempts to pretend he is Allen.  No one says anything at first most days, but eventually they ‘realize’ its not Allen - always before he tries to kill and/or escape from them. 

When Nea attempts to leverage Link’s promise of alliance at point, all Link says is, “There are precisely 57 things which could’ve tipped them off, Fourteenth.  The last time, there were 102.”

They never tell Nea that Allen is a snot machine when he wakes up and sees they’re all still alive.

@denofmonstrum continued from X 

    Quit hiding. 

          She had raised her arms to drape her shoulders then. Hiding the marred skin, unspoken past spilled to an audience the moment her hand shot without any kind of direct command. It was a possessed movement, incubi she had believed forbade to trouble her. They came for nights, but her busy mind wouldn’t let them kiss her tender heart with the memories tightly locked. 

     Whoo- CRACK! 


       The lowing of cattle, the rocking, porous ship carrying conquered slaves, but one deader spirit than body.

     A family chained with a father roaring when his wife was a chosen token. A creature… a god–D E V I L– jeers. M o c k s the desperate wait, throat drying wails. The tenure, the scry of inhuman despiar ripping chords in bloody abandon; Uttered by none other than the powerful ‘Leviathan’. Jeremiah’s past yanks and screams against unyielding bonds of, holy or unhallowed enchantments holding tight. The walls burr and creak, bloody violence shaling through his body when a long, black tongue scopes her alabaster neck, her dress taken by handfuls and YANKED apart. She can do no more the flail helplessly, a woman too enchantingly beautiful robbed from her castles and unjustly dragged to know these horrors!! He rushes forward only for his neck to snap back by the chains iron grip. “RAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

   Soon… his child is crushed…

       And Then, in blind fury, his monstrous form is freed, jaws of light and larger than planets devouring this unsanctified D E V I L who made toys of his family only moments ago. The wet crunch of bones, and gurgling screams, the heavy scent of blood overtaking her senses. 

                        His past self releases blood curdling wail at the end of his vengeful feast, the world around quaking like a box of trinkets uncaringly tossed into hollow graves desecrated. Crypt abandoned, but follows at the shell of their ears, whispers– laughing– at devastation. Amongst the screams, twined with the tortured wails of robbed husband and father…

    Her ears catch the aggrieved weeping of a hungry, hopeless mother. No…” 

      A young woman rocking herself over an infant no more than 6 months starved for her dried milk; supplies had run dry, neighbor turning against neighbor just for a moldy piece of bread. The earth shakes with armored marches by hellish, distorted creatures. All is well, my darling…” Her voice is a hollowed crack of feigned gladness, a shaking hand clamped tightly to an elaborate blade, a ruby crested to its pommel. You will be free soonAway from all of this…” The heirloom rises, light treads across its mirror’s edge to ricochet across falling tears. Just listen to my voice, my treasure…” Under Jeremiah’s chin, a sob releases, unrestrained and burning in raw chords. She takes her throat, fails to cool the burning muscles beneath her iron-tense throat. I release you to Doga to golden fields and a land flowing endlessly with milk and honey.” Her hand flies down towards his little chest. 

               “STOOOOP!!” Freya closes her ears, eyes painfully screwing shut. Take her away from this! TAKE HER AWAY!!

                                              “C A L M.”

     She opens her eyes. They are back in his study, fire cracking in the warm hearth. The marble unmarred, the pale columns high and polished. Everything is as it was, save for Jeremiah’s shredded tunic and her burning eyes thick with unshed tears. The music of night calmly squeaks through the unopened balcony window, untouched of the horrors the man – creature– and woman –child killer– endured. 

                                     Breath. Just breathe…”

     Rabid breaths fail to still the shaking in her shoulders, her face hidden. Fearful of the chancellors slamming the gavel in her mind. She’s blind when he backs away, until she hears the thickened question from across the room. It sounds so… human. Heavy, and vulnerable. It is sobering, hearing the h u m a n i t y, the a n g e r.


      The beads fall from her eyes, fevered pain ripping through every nerve. Not just of her own sins… but his loss. And she suddenly feels it… the loss of regret. The abandonment of conscience. The sociopathic tendencies that drive his very being. Unnatural, and inhumane. So easy to kill, so easy to ignore a wrenching plea. It is h a r r o w i n g. 

      She stares bleary-eyed, legs too weak to uphold the emotion felt by him, the lack of it, and her own loss. She buckles, back flat to the wall when she bows her head. She can’t stop shaking. 

It was not until very recently that I could do that I swear to Doga, Jeremiah I cant... I cant control it.” A weak reply, but her strength to uphold any shield inside of her has gone. She takes another deep breath, fighting the anxiety when she grips her shoulders tightly. 

Originally posted by raquel-lostgirl

I promise I didnt mean to…! I didnt mean to see–! Doga, I am so sorry…!”

Locked Out

s u m m a r y // based off the “We live in the same building and you’re locked out of your place in your underwear because you were doing laundry and forgot your key” au prompt

Your point of view

You grabbed your white laundry basket carrying it into your living room area. It’s laundry night; well not exactly, you just really had nothing else to do so you thought you would do laundry—at twelve o’clock. Working and studying was pretty much your life right now. The sweet adult life. Setting the basket down you closed your dark blue curtains that were just shinning moonlight into your apartment.

Picking the basket back up you opened your door with one hand, holding the basket with the other. Closing it behind you, you walked down the hall in your white bunny slippers, hearing them rub against the carpet. Walking down the stair because elevators just weren’t your things. Ever since you were stuck in one by yourself one day you never used it again; even though the manager assured you, it wouldn’t happen again.

Setting your basket down beside the washer, you opened the small circle door tossing your clothes inside. You stood there for a minute looking down at your dirty t-shirt and pajama shorts. No one would be up at this time anyways right? Pulling your t-shirt over your head and taking your fluffy pink, you tossed them inside. You put in some detergent and fabric softener, pressing start. You had an hour and thirteen minutes to spare so there was no use in staying down here.

Picking up your now empty basket, you walked out the laundry room in your bra and boy shorts walking back up to your room. It was a little cold due to your attire but you could bare it for a minute or two.

You walked down the hallway stopping dead in your tracks when you saw an attractive guy walking in front of you. His back was towards you but you could tell by the way he walked he was hot. His golden brown hair was messy and you could see the tattoos through his black t-shirt, it looked tight showing his big biceps. You’ve never seen him before—you’ve never really seen anyone in this hallway at all. Now here you were standing in your bra and panties.

Swallowing hard you tried to cover yourself with the tall white basket in your arms. Quickly walking down the hall your slippers squeaked lowly making you mutter a curse word under your breath. He was walking pretty slow for someone trying to get back to their place but it looked like he was looking at something in front of him—probably his phone.




You apartment number was 213 and you were a few doors away. Putting your head down you practically sprinted past him saying ‘please don’t see me’ over and over again in your head. Letting out a deep sigh when you reached your door you looked back over to the appealing guy his eyes locked on his phone that he hand in one of his hands; the other stuffed into his pocket.

Not moving the basket from your body, you twisted the knob; only for it not to open, it was locked. “Shit.” You muttered under your breath cursing at yourself for forgetting to grab your key before you left. Like how could you forget your damn key?

You tugged on your curly hair not knowing what to do now. Yeah sure you could just walk down to the lobby and tell the manger you got locked out—but then you would risk getting seen by lover boy. Maybe you could just wait until went he was into his place then walk down to the lobby. Either way some guy was going to see you almost naked.

Deciding on the second choice, you sat down trying to be out of sight. The only way you were fucked is if he looked up from his phone. You watched as he continued to walk slowly putting one foot in front of the other. Did he really have to be so slow? Just walk to your door, go inside and then look on your phone all you want. He might be cute but he sure seemed like one of those people who are on their phones all the time.

He stopped removing his eyes from his phone—thank god not in your direction. Looking at the door to see what number was on it, he put his phone on his pocket finally walking at a normal pace. Unfortunately the way he was walking, was towards you. You slowly scooted behind the white basket hopping he would keep his eyes on the ground because it looked like he was going to have to walk past you.

You bit down on your lip gripping the basket in hopes of not making any noise to draw his attention to you. He stopped at the door right across from you running a hand through his hair. He pulled his keys out of his pocket going through the few he had on the chain. They accidently slipped from his hands onto the ground making a clatter sound. He bent down picking them up, his hazel eyes meeting yours.

He stood up straight his eyebrows knitting together giving you a confused look, “Are you okay?” His raspy voice asked, holding onto the keys with one of his hands.

“Um—yeah, I’m alright you” You said, standing up holding the basket tightly against your body.

“You sure? You’re kind of naked and sitting outside a door” He chuckled, point to the basket with his finger.

“I—Uh was doing laundry.” You cleared your throat staring down at your slippers. He was as hot as you thought he would be. He had these pink plump lips that you wanted to kiss but you probably seemed like a crazy person sitting outside of your door.

“Are you locked out?” He questioned, twirling the keys around his pointer finger, scratching the back of his neck with his other hand.

“Yeah,” You answered, lowly pulling your lips into your mouth you started to rock back and forth on your heels nervously.

“Do you want me to go get the manger or something?”

“Well I was going to—“

“We can go down there together. You shouldn’t be walking around here like that alone.” He suggested, his eyes traveling up and down your body.

You sighed muttering an, “Okay.” under your breath.

He stuffed his keys back into his pocket motioning for you start walking. You walked down the hallway side by side in silence still holding your basket. You were heading for the stairs but this nameless guy had the elevator in mind instead. He stopped at it and you let out a deep breath making him glance in your direction as he pressed the button.

“Can we take the st—“

The elevator door opened and you felt your heart race pick up. You haven’t been on an elevator in almost three months. He stepped inside waiting for you but all you could do was stand there rubbing your sweaty palms onto the basket.

“You coming?” He put his hand in front of the door so it wouldn’t close. For the sake of not seeming like a weirdo, you stepped into the elevator tapping your foot as the door closed and it went down. You held your breath until the door opened you saying a small ‘thank you’ in your head stepping out before the other guy could.

“I never got your name…” He said, as you walked towards the lobby, his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

“Y/N” You replied, licking you lips as you kept your stare on floor.

“Justin,” He stopped holding his hand out for you to shake. You looked down at his hand letting go of the basket and you shook it.

“Nice to meet you.” You breathed, his hazel eyes meeting yours for the second time. He had great eyes that you just wanted to stare at for a long time.

“You too.”

You didn’t notice you were still holding onto his hand so you awkwardly let go staring back down at the ground continuing to walk towards the lobby.

You walked into the lobby seeing no one at the marble desk. Tapping the silver bell you waited for someone to come but then you remembered it was twelve almost one in the morning.

“It’s late there’s probably no one here.” You sighed, setting the basket down not really caring anymore. You just wanted to get your laundry and go to sleep. Never again were you doing your washing this late.

“Well I don’t want to be weird or something but you don’t really have anywhere else to go do you?”

“That doesn’t involve a two hour car ride? Nope.”

“If you want you can stay with me—for the night until someone gets back. I won’t bother you or anything you can sleep in my bed, it’s better than outside of your door.”

You laughed a little covering you lips with you hand, “Um—yeah that sounds good thank you.”

“Okay, come on.” He smiled at you.

You went back up to his apartment taking the stairs this time. He probably noticed how uncomfortable you got when you took the elevator. Standing at his apartment door he opened it, stepping into the darkness.

Flicking on the light switch his surprisingly clean place came to view. He hand a nice kitchen with brown granite. He had some hooks next to the door that held some other keys. There was a nice black suede couch in his living room with a glass coffee table. You set the basket down besides the closed door covering your body with arms. He looked over at you then left the room coming back with a t-shirt and some basketball shorts.

“Here you go,” He said, handing them to you. “The bathrooms right there.”

“Thank you,”

“My rooms in there and I’ll just be right over there if you need anything.” He assured, yawning as he stretched his arms out.

“Okay, goodnight and thanks again” You smiled, tiptoeing past him in hopes he wouldn’t see what was written on the back of boy shirts.

“Oh and Y/N.” He blurted. “Nice panties.”

You blushed then walked into his room shutting the door behind you. You were now pretty happy that you forgot your key.


The Tale Of Six Trillion Years And A Night

Another song fic, you ask? Yes. It seems to be the only thing I can write, recently. Here’s the song, btw. Hope y’all are patient with me, I’ll get back to posting requests soon!! This one is also kind of long, so I added a read more!

From the time of my birth 

A taboo child 

As a demon’s offspring 

Though I didn’t deserve it 

I received the punishment

He couldn’t remember the first day it happened. Just that it always had been. Locked in a basement, chained to a wall, deprived of light and food. When he did come out, he wore clothes to hide the bruises that lined his body. However, everyone knew. Everyone knew of the boy in raggedy clothes who always smelled and was always dirty. Who never wore shoes and never strayed. They knew what he was.

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Gamla Uppsala, Spring 2015

Gamla Uppsala was the location of the Thing of all Swedes which was a thing held from pre-historic times to the Middle Ages, at the end of February or early March. It was held in conjunction with a great fair called Disting, and a pagan celebration called Dísablót.
People have been buried in Gamla Uppsala for 2,000 years, since the area rose above water. Originally there were between 2,000 and 3,000 mounds in the area but most have become farmland, gardens and quarries. Today only 250 barrows remain.

“…Near that temple is a very large tree with widespread branches which are always green both in winter and summer. What kind of tree it is nobody knows. There is also a spring there where the pagan are accustomed to perform sacrifices and to immerse a human being alive. As long as his body is not found, the request of the people will be fulfilled. A golden chain encircles that temple and hangs over the gables of the building. Those who approach see its gleam from afar off because the shrine, which is located on a plain, is encircled by mountains so situated as to give the effect of a theatre. For nine days feasts and sacrifices of this kind are celebrated. Every day they sacrifice one human being in addition to other animals, so that in nine days there are 72 victims which are sacrificed. This sacrifice takes place about the time of the vernal equinox.”

why tweedle needs to be eaten by a train

By agathaheterodyne

the short version: for trying to assert physical, political, and sexual ownership over a teenage girl for fun and profit (and power).

the long version: you ask, i deliver. (merry christmas, let’s itemize everything disgusting tweedle has ever done.) if you can put this under a cut when you post it i’d recommend it, it’s not giving the opportunity here.

WARNINGS: tweedle. if you don’t read gg, basically consider this a content warning for controlling and predatory behavior of all types, including sexual.

since your questioner hasn’t read girl genius, some brief background! the comic’s tl;dr is “mad scientists rule the world, badly.” the hero is the eponymous girl genius, agatha heterodyne. she is eighteen and has come into possession of a mad science city, a mad science sentient murdercastle, and a mad science monster army. ANYWAY.

when we meet tweedle, whose real name is martellus, but i refuse to call him that because he doesn’t deserve it, he seems harmless but irritating. THEN he:

  • kidnaps agatha. 
  • because of an in-world legend, the reason for the kidnapping is very heavily implied to be forced marriage.
  • he also keeps referring to her as “my heterodyne girl” and getting furious with others for taking away what he sees as his property.
  • stabs and poisons another protagonist and one of agatha’s love interests (who also happens to be tweedle’s cousin — whatever you’re thinking i promise you that family is more screwed up than you think)
  • after the kidnapping, while agatha is unconscious, alone, and chained up, he chemically alters her body so that she will die if she doesn’t touch him. (she proceeds to knock him out, free herself, replace the need to touch him with a modified pet weasel, and escape his castle in a mechanical swan sleigh that shoots lasers, because girl genius is that kind of comic.)
  • while he tells her what he’s done to her, he also informs her that he would have given her a love potion to make her into his “adoring slave,” except he didn’t want to risk making her useless to him. he seems to expect her to be grateful.
  • after she escapes he chases her cross-country and manages to use his political connections to infiltrate the place she ended up. 
  • most recently he graduated to groping her (ASSAULT YAY) and got a knee to the crotch for his troubles.
  • all of her friends keep trying to encourage her to just kill him. she doesn’t want to.
  • AND the reason everyone specifically wants him to be eaten by a train is that there is currently a ravenous train-monster built by agatha’s ancestors on the loose. because girl genius is that kind of comic.

anyway, the point is that tweedle is sexually predatory and entitled and cruel, and for a lot of people reading gg right now he’s making the comic less fun to read. we’re obviously supposed to hate him, it’s just that a lot of us wish he wasn’t there to have to hate.

we already have: the genocidal big bad who killed her infant son, only had her daughter so she could take over her body, and flattened half of europe; the minor villain working for and infatuated with the big bad who serial-murdered girls while trying to upload her into their brains, and who, after all of the other girls died, used his own daughter; and the other harmless-seeming character who tried to usurp agatha, went ax crazy, nearly killed yet another protagonist, and eventually uploaded the big bad into her own brain for her own ends. i really don’t think we need another hate sink.

To the anon who was wondering why there is a fandom that has unanimously agreed that a character nicknamed Tweedle needs to be EATEN BY A TRAIN

I honestly don’t think I can explain how much Lincoln meant to me. In a world where Black men are often perceived as the villain before they even have a chance to open their mouths, Lincoln was a kind spirit, a great friend, a loving significant other and so much more. 

To watch this show and see a black man who defied so many of the “Scary Black Man” tropes, shot so graphically, on his knees and chained, by another black man. To see his body fall lifeless and watch the life seep from his body while a group watched. To know that he was killed with no friends, no loved ones near, it breaks my heart. 

I live in a world where it is commonplace to see promising lights like Lincoln’s snuffed out on a regular basis, and often for crimes that were not their own. Where black men are shot and killed on a regular basis, by the people they believe will protect them. Lincoln trusted Skaikru, he trusted Pike. I will miss you Lincoln.

And not, because like so many people have tried to say, because Ricky already had another job. Because Ricky choose to leave a show where the Showrunner was bullying him. Ricky was hired on for American Gods after this episode was filmed.  Jason still has not even given Ricky (a series regular) a goodbye tweet, like he did ADC immediately after L/xa’s death was broadcast on EST.