prairie dances

wow i don’t know how fabric works but anyway. this is sunstone, a new gem oc of mine!

i was inspired to make them when listening to this song (which, no lie, i had on repeat the whole time while drawing this). kinda went for a folksy, prairie-country-whatever dance vibe.

i don’t know anything about sunstone beyond inklings of ideas. i likely won’t do anything with them, they could appear in labradorite’s story who knows, but anyway i had fun designing them and that’s the important part

Starter for @stvrvcined​‘s Muninn


       The one certainty in tracking a beast is: follow them long enough and you will eventually arrive to meet it, unless– of course– the beast arrives at your first. The prospect was burned hot in his veins, made his belly tight and mouth dry. Finding her was quite the challenge– a female, he knew and the exotic beauty if he had heard the right rumors. Beautiful and terrifying, reminding Nil of the scorch of a forest fire, or the calm before an arrow bore deep into your flesh.

       There was loveliness in such minute moments. And Nil licked his teeth at the prospect of sinking them into this one. He hadn’t slept. It had been two days, and her tracks were elusive at best and misleading at worse. Did she know she was being followed? The little pauses in her step hinted at paranoia, perhaps, or uncertainty.

       The moon cut the sky with a sever smirk, one that lit his foot steps just enough to see at all. The prairie grass danced lazily in the midnight breeze, and Nil took his position just at the base of a leaning tree to the south of the path. He tested his bow, something with a smaller pull– for he wasn’t planning on killing any machines tonights. Just a woman, or if he was lucky, something else entirely.

       And he pulled on the figure, her dark hair like dead blood in the clearing. Yes, it was her, her height, her description. To be honest, Nil really should have just killed. ‘Leash the arrow and let her drop. But something pulled at him. Curiosity, perhaps? Ah, well, he never admitted to being faultless.

       “I remember days when the sun shown a little brighter here,” he said conversationally, a low gravel that never ceased to sound amused.

      “Laughter could be heard from the village, and it wasn’t so.. ominous,”
he presented. Friendly as anyone.

delectabledeanwinchester  asked:

21 destiel please :) Thank you ily

21. We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?

Dean wasn’t so great at this romance stuff, but damned if he wasn’t making an effort. Cas deserved to be wined and dined. After a millennium as an angel, Dean worried he wouldn’t be able to impress the fallen angel at all, but to his pleasant surprise, Cas seemed to prefer the simpler things in life. 

Which is why they were here, in a Kansas field in the late spring, lying on a blanket and watching clouds roll over the vast prairie. Wildflowers danced in the wind, a perfect compliment to the bees buzzing around them. 

Dean rolled onto his back, and Cas settled across his chest, weaving their fingers together. “This is lovely,” he murmured. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Your cooking skills just get better and better. That was easily your best pie yet.”

Blushing, Dean couldn’t help the little smile of pride on his lips. “Tasted even better when I ate it off your di-" 

Cas silenced him with a kiss. "Don’t ruin the moment, assbutt.”

Dean chuckled as Cas snuggled even closer, enjoying the feel of bare skin against bare skin. Which is why he was decidedly unhappy when he woke to a deluge.

“Shit! Cas, c'mon, help me!” he yelled, sitting straight up on the blanket. 

Cas wasn’t there. Dean hopped to his feet. Cas was standing ten feet away, still completely naked, arms outstretched to the heavens. He turned, caught sight of Dean, and smiled beatifically. 

A crackle of lightning arced across the sky, followed by a thunderous boom of epic proportions that startled Dean to his knees. 

“It feels so amazing, Dean,” Cas said reverently. 

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm, and you want to stop and feel the rain?!" 

Unperturbed, Cas walked back to him, kneeling before him and stilling Dean’s hands from frantically trying to pack up. "Rain feels so different now. It’s - I don’t have words.” He squeezed Dean’s hands tight and pulled him back down to the blanket. “As long as we stay low, we should be safe.”

Another loud clap of thunder made Dean flinch, hard. Cas pulled him close, wrapping his arms tight around him. “I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

Dean believed him. 

Send me a number and a pairing and I’ll write you a tiny drabble.