regal robe

ashinan  asked:

Hey. Hey Onions. Hey. Micro fill time: Shiro. Star Wars AU. First time he felt the Force. *finger guns*

okay you had to have known there was no way this was going to stay micro

Shiro’s known the Force for as long as he can remember.

Even if this isn’t the first first, it’s certainly one of the most defining.

“It is too late,” the Pashoni leader says. Her face is ashen but firm, her beetle-like eyes and the green markings of her crown of office stoic and unyielding. “I am sorry, young Jedi. There is no way we will reach them in time.”

“But my Master’s down there,” Shiro cries.

The training bond in the back of his mind has been silent for six terrifying minutes, stretching on to seven. Eight. Shiro’s tried again and again, but there’s no response. There’s nothing, nothing but the horrified whispers from the Pashonians gathering with Shiro at the top of the hill and the dust rising from the rockslide at the bottom.

Stay here, Master Ulaz had said. The cart down into the mines had only been big enough for one person to join the workers heading below.

Stay here, Master Ulaz had said, laying his large hand on top of Shiro’s head, thumb pressing gently against the center of Shiro’s forehead. It is a calming gesture for the Galra people, with their sagittal crest; Shiro’s used to it. At the tender age of thirteen he still barely comes up to Master Ulaz’s waist.

Stay here.

Here, staring down at the settling remnants of the rockslide neatly blocking the only access to the caves.

Keep reading

the place between places  (1/?)

these days I’m drawing all my inspiration from gif sets and mood boards y’all

all the credit for this goes to @southsidestory​ who created this beauty

This is how she meets him:

She’s on a ship. It is small and crowded and dingy nothing like the Imperial ship that brought her and Papa to Eadu years and years ago (Jyn could tell you the exact count in standard days, in invisible tally marks lining the backs of her eyelids where she can still see her mother crumbling into the reedy grass on Lah’mu). There are rebel soldiers aboard, the ones who rescued her before the facility went up in smoke and fire but none of them have spoken a word since Jyn went quiet.

She’s on a ship and Papa is dead.

Jyn stares down at her lap, clasps her hands over the still soaked knees of her skirt. Krennic had requested she dress herself appropriately for the event, because he still delights in this game, in reminding her and Papa of all the ways he controls them. There’s a tear in it now, waterlogged and soot-stained, and the part of Jyn that’s always looked for ways to be a nuisance to him is pleased to see it, to think of credits wasted, his facility in ruins before he could announce whatever victory he had to lord over them.

She’s free and Papa is dead.

Keep reading

andrew1937  asked:

46 for Midlink, please and thank you

“Dance with me.” 

Link found himself staring openly at the open floor of the ballroom. It was unlike any sight he had ever laid his eyes on. Since he was currently in the palace of the Twilight realm, the large windows allowed the almost eerie lighting of soft glowing blues and black to filter into the expansive room. Along with the many Twili on the floor dancing, their bright hair and pale skin a stark contrast against the low, yet also sufficient lighting, it made for a scene that was almost fairytale-like in nature. The hero could not help but wonder how Hylian historians had written about this place as if it were a horrifying realm of nightmares. Of course he knew that it was probably due to the fact that the Twilight Realm had been used as a place of banishment for the worst of prisoners, such descriptions used to perhaps deter others from committing crimes. Yet, now that he spent more time here thanks to his spouse, he found himself at peace and comforted by its atmosphere, despite all he had experienced when the Dark Lord had taken control.

“Dance with me.”

Link was drawn out of his thoughts as his eyes travelled upwards, finally settling upon those of the queen of the Twilight Realm. He cleared his throat as he remarked how stunning she looked, swathed in her regal robes and adorned with jewels that accentuated her sharp, yet well defined features. A knowing smirk played across her lips as she held her hand out for her husband, waiting for him to take it into his own. On the other hand, Link found himself staring blankly at her hand as he nervously adjusted the fancy cravat he wore upon his collar.

“Uh Midna…I’ve never really danced before,” Link finally admitted as his gaze wandered over to the many Twili nobles dancing and twirling on the dance floor. Midna found herself scoffing at the comment as she raised her eyebrow in suspicion.

“I’m sure you’ve danced before Link. Hell, you even danced at our wedding! You didn’t think you’d get away with such a lame excuse now did you?” While Midna did have a habit of being snarky, she could tell from the hero’s demeanor that his hesitation had very little to do with dancing. He continuously fidgeted within the royal tunic and silks she had had tailored for him, observing him as he continued to cast a wary eye over to the dance floor. While the man could face down a beast hundreds of times his size without batting an eyelid, he found himself completely at loss in face of such opulence and properness. Link was completely out of his element here, especially since this was his first official ball with so many of her people in attendance.

“Alright, I know that was lame…” Link sighed as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Midna simply shook her head before offering her hand once more, this time being a bit more insistent.

“The only way you’re going to get used to this is to continue participating you know?” Midna remarked matter-of-factly. “The last thing I need is to deal with the rumors of why the queen of Twilight’s husband is always standing by the sidelines always fidgeting in his boots. Can you imagine the many ridiculous stories one could create with that kind of description?”

Link could not help but chuckle at the very thought. Sighing once more, he slowly placed his hand in hers, allowing her to pull him over to the dance floor. He had accepted her hand in marriage after all, so he supposed these were events he would have to attend regularly. Link found himself looking up at her then, reciprocating her triumphant grin with one of his own as he took his hand into hers.

“Now careful huh? Don’t want to mix up who leads the dance and have us stepping all over each other’s feet again,” Link reminded her then, recalling the mess that had been their wedding dance. Midna narrowed her eyes at that comment, before a knowing smirk crossed her lips. It was all the hero could do not to yelp in surprise as they suddenly took off across the dance floor, the queen light and nimble on her feet as she took the lead with gusto. The hero credited his training with the ancient hero of time for being able to keep up with her without falling flat on his face.

“Then I lead and you follow. Simple, right?” Midna said with a laugh as they danced well into the evening.


A little Draco x Reader imagine for @yrgl00mygrlfriend!  I’m SO sorry this took me so long…I’ve been busy moving back to school & starting my new classes!  Nonetheless, I loved this idea…I altered it a little bit unknowingly as I was writing it, so I hope you don’t mind hehe.  Enjoy! xx

Imagine: I was thinking about a very formal ball at the Malfoy manner. Y/N’s family is another very prestigious family and is invited. And the whole time, she notices Draco staring at her from above his drink, and they like flirt with each other even tho they’re across the room from each other? Eventually he asks her to dance, and he’s just very sexy and gentlemanly and it’s just super flirty?

WARNING: Sexual innuendo?

Originally posted by fallingforamalfoy

Your eyes wandered idly about the great ballroom before you.  They scanned across the length of the elaborate emerald drapery, to the exquisite crystal glassware atop the grand oak table that stretched for miles.  You found them somehow searching for something, really anything, that even remotely hinted at a sense of subtlety.  A smile tugging at the corner of your mouth and a shake of your head indicated the failure to find such a simple element.

Malfoy Manor was certainly an amazing sight to behold, decked out in fineries some wizards and witches may only ever dream of.  In a sense, you were used to the flamboyance and the wealth.  Although your family’s taste wasn’t nearly as boastful as the famous Malfoys, your wealth and social status very nearly matched theirs.  As a result, you were often invited to high-end parties and events; such was the case that night, as you scoffed at the arrogance that was so obviously displayed.

You drummed your fingers on the cold marble of the small bar in front of you, your other hand preoccupied with holding your chin up.  The shimmering jet black dress you wore shivered with every move you made.  It pooled at your feet like a waterfall, and boasted a slit that cut like a knife to expose a good portion of your porcelain skin.

“Your firewhiskey on the rocks, Madame,” the quiet, polite voice of the house-elf broke your lazy stare as he extended a drink to you.  In turn, you smiled at the little bartender perched artfully on a tall stool and gratefully took the chilled glass from him.

“Thank you very much, sir,” you winked and placed a galleon in the tip jar next to him.  He seemed to perk up and offered a grateful little smile as you sauntered into the middle of the ballroom.  

You had to admit, the music was delightful; a perfect blend of upbeat vivacity yet a distinct note of serenity. Drink in hand, chilling the tips of your fingers, you swayed slowly in the middle of the dance floor.  You caught sight of your parents who quirked their eyebrows but smiled softly at you.  Honestly, it didn’t matter to you that you were alone, or that you were dancing by yourself.   You were perfectly content as an individual in a room full of stuck-up rich people.

After a few moments, you twirled around, letting your water-like gown flow seamlessly across the floor.  You giggled to yourself as the firewhiskey began to take its effect.  Suddenly, you felt a pair of eyes on you.  Truth be told, you were aware of many sets of eyes fixated on you, whether it be for reasons of lust or rather judgment.  However, this was different.

Your gaze fell upon a white-blonde-haired man, sipping his own whiskey sans-rocks.  Quickly, you recognized him as Draco Malfoy, the son of your gracious hosts.  He had an impressive stature: tall, slender, but perhaps a bit muscular as well. Adorned in such regal dress robes, it was hard to tell.  What really crept under your skin, though, were his eyes; the same cool grey eyes that lay upon you that very moment.  Your attraction to him was immediate, but you merely nodded curtly and took a generous sip of your stiff drink.  Can’t seem too eager, now.  He offered a smirk, one that made your insides tighten, and raised his drink to you before mirroring your sip.

It wasn’t long before you caught a glimpse of him making his way through the crowd, headed in your direction.  You tried not to notice the distance between you growing smaller, but realizing your meeting to be inevitable, you gulped another shot of your drink down and tossed your silky hair to the side.  Your eyes met his and you placed a hand on your hip expectantly.

“Well, well, now, who do we have here?” Draco positively purred.  He had never seen such an alluring individual before.  To him, you were so vastly attractively outspoken yet you hadn’t breathed a word.  You cleared your throat.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said simply.  “I presume you’re Draco, yes?”

He quirked his eyebrows.

“The one and only, darling,” Draco smiled smugly.  You nearly frowned at his matter-of-factness, but something about this man was simply irresistible.  Instead, you found your mouth struggling not to curl into a coy smile.

“Ah,” you nodded and raised your eyebrows, looking to the bar again.  “Well, it was a pleasure, Mr. Malfoy…”

Yes, keep him wanting more.  Men like it when you play hard-to-get!  You started for the bar when you felt a warm hand envelope yours.  You followed the hand to its source and found Draco, whose eyes were narrowed.

“We’ve only just met, Y/N.  I thought we’d get to know each other,” his voice was quieter and seemed somewhat genuine.  Your expression softened and you turned towards him again.  A small smile danced on your lips.

“Alright, why not?  But I will be needing another drink then,” you winked and his eyes brightened.  His cool façade slipped back on like a glove.

“Allow me,” Draco took hold of your empty glass and escorted you back to the bar, your arm looped through his. You couldn’t help but blush; his gentlemanly manner was refreshing compared to the heavy cockiness of well-off wizarding families that lingered in the air around you.

The little house elf-turned-bartender smiled as he caught sight of you approaching.  His eyes flicked to Draco, however, and his expression faltered slightly. You could detect a note of nervousness on his face as his superior closed the space between them.

“Another firewhiskey for the lovely lady,” Draco commanded.  You frowned. Although his tone was not laced with any malice, it was authoritative in manner.  Draco looked somewhat impatient as the house elf scrambled for a clean glass. You cleared your throat.

“Please, take your time, sir,” you shot Draco a warning glance before offering a reassuring smile to the bartender. “I’m not in any rush.”  

He let out a sigh of relief and his tensed hands seemed to relax a bit.  Draco gazed at you quizzically.

“You speak to all help like that?” a smirk played on his thin lips.  You shrugged and crossed your arms across your chest, only emphasizing it more in the process.  You could feel the pale man’s eyes wander south.

“I respect all creatures, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you’d find you’d benefit from sprinkling a bit of kindness amongst your interactions,” you rolled your eyes.  His eyebrows raised and a smile broke out on his face, which stayed even as the bartender handed you your refreshed drink and you tipped him another galleon.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you are intriguing,” his voice was low and borderline sexy.  There was something addictive about your manner and care that Draco loved.  Your throat tightened and your stomach clenched at the number of sensations coursing through your body.  His voice seemed to caress the inside of your ear, his body loomed in your sight, powerful and strong, and his scent (maybe pine?) was overwhelmingly alluring.  Trying to play it off, you shrugged your bare shoulders.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Draco,” the corner of your ruby lips turned up in a playful smirk before taking a long sip of your drink.  You could just make out a tinge of pink rising to Draco’s cheeks, and you couldn’t believe how satisfied you were that you were having the same affect on him.  To your surprise, he grabbed your drink and set it back down on the bar.

“Let’s see if you can dance as lovely with another person,” he purred and slipped his hand over yours.  For such a striking, cool looking individual, his hands were surprisingly warm.  You giggled and tossed your hair back.

“Shall we?” you winked and strutted towards the dance floor.  Every once in a while you caught the blonde man’s gaze wandering to your exposed leg as it peeked from the depths of your dark gown.  You rolled your eyes and pulled him close as the dance began.

“You could at least try to make your glances less conspicuous,” you whispered. He blushed immediately but chuckled.

“M’terribly sorry, love,” his hand on your waist pulled you tight against him and his lips were nearly against your ear. “I can’t help myself.”

You shivered slightly and smirked. Pulling back to create a small space between your two bodies, you found his wandering grey eyes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Malfoy,” you wrapped your arms around his neck loosely.  “Only I know for a fact I’m better at keeping my eyes to myself.”

He was laughing, suddenly, and you quirked your head.  He twirled you in his arms and caught you with your back pressed against his chest.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen you admiring me, Y/N,” he cooed in your ear, tracing a hand down your side to your hip. You bit your lip as he twirled you back to face him.  His eyes were lustful.

“Even now you can barely contain your attraction,” he swayed with you.  You felt a tinge of embarrassment and gulped.  You’d been found out.  Was I truly that obvious?

“Well, then I’d say we’re even,” you plucked up your courage and slid your hand up his chest and to the base of his nape, twiddling with the fair hairs that resided there.  You couldn’t describe your immediate infatuation with him. It was his turn to shiver and he pulled you closer.

“Won’t you come with me on a walk through the gardens, darling?” his hands were lingering astonishingly close to your backside.  You grabbed his wrists and pushed back to hold his hands at length.

“That sounds lovely,” you grinned. Any chance to be alone with this intriguing, seductively sly man made your heart jump into the back of your throat with excitement.  Every inch of your skin tingled with anticipation as Draco shot you an incredibly white smile and tugged you through the crowd of curious, wary eyes.  You smiled and nodded at your parents to indicate that everything was okay.

The gardens of Malfoy Manor were nothing less than beautiful; extravagant and too much for your taste, no less, but utterly beautiful to the eyes and the nose.  Crimson red roses decorated the walkway, paving the way towards an elegant fountain.  If you hadn’t been in such a lust for Draco’s touch and attention, you would have loved to stop and admire everything.

Draco pulled you over behind the hedges, scattered with white roses, and placed his hands on your bare shoulders. In the moonlight, his smile practically lit up as he slowly traced his hands down the length of your figure, stopping at your showcased hips.  Both of your breaths caught in your throat for a brief moment as your eyes met.  It was quiet, save for the faint sound of music and an owl somewhere far off.

You threw yourself into his arms. His lips were attached to yours within mere seconds, and proceeded to attack mode.  Your kiss was hungry and needy as your hands knotted in his slicked-back hair.  Draco’s hands found your arse and he plucked you off the ground, but not before giving it a firm squeeze.

You were wrapped around him in every sense; physically, emotionally, mentally.  The two of you broke for mere seconds, heavy breathing clouding each other’s eyes.  Draco’s smirk could be seen in the dim light.

“You truly are intriguing, darling,” he purred.  You smiled and pulled his lips to yours once more.  An urgency awakened in you for the Slytherin Prince before you.

anonymous asked:

#13 with senator Ben and empress Rey!!

13. A kiss we had to wait for

it got real sad real fast. it’s also a different continuity
Also it got stupidly long

The sigh building in her chest was heavier than her bones. Her arms felt weak when she raised them to unravel her hair. The lights were dimmed to the lowest setting and only the glow from Coruscant outside her windows made any lasting impact. The shadows on her face made her look gaunt, but they hid the redness rimming her eyes, her noes, her cheeks. Black makeup streaked down the planes of her countenance like soot-stained raindrops.

Her scalp ached as the long waves of her hair were freed of their confines, follicles sore from being pulled unnaturally for hours. When her jewelry was off and away, she let her head fall into open palms, elbows dug like tree roots into the vanity table.

The click of her door sliding open made her jump and she was grateful for the darkness. It took a painful moment to recognize his voice. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m all right.”

“You’re sitting alone in the dark.”

Keep reading

Sugar Daddy//Closed

An RP continuation of this little fic prologue I wrote ages ago


Thranduil waited until the messenger turned his back to him before allowing his lips to slowly curve into a grin. Finally his efforts had paid off–and not a moment to soon. If the pony hadn’t brought the youngest prince of Erebor to his kingdom, he would have been at a loss as to what to send next. He would have thought of something even more compelling eventually, of course, but his pride would have been wounded. Thranduil had never been forced to put so much effort into wooing anyone before, much less a dwarf.

“You,” he said, turning to one of his guards, “find Galion and tell him to meet me in my chambers at once.”

He had to look irresistible, and his current robes, regal as they were, would not suffice – not for a stubborn dwarf of the line of Durin. And no one in his service had an eye for beauty like Galion. He would help him choose the perfect outfit for the occasion. 

Raising his chin as he stood, Thranduil gracefully descended to steps from his throne. This would prove to be an interesting evening indeed.

Vanáriel stood on a high, wooded platform in the centre of town and stared down at hundreds of merry faces with a bright grin of her own. Tall, straight and regal in white robes; Vaná felt like she was a Hand of the Light again and with the heart of the people. All eyes were on her as she lifted a glass of dark wine into the air.

“… please raise your glasses in honour of this warm and welcoming man, Braus Derry, the new mayor of Miwor Town!”

A chorus of cheering and whooping answered Vaná’s yell. The village suddenly exploded into noise as the musicians blasted out a bright and merry fanfare, earning more approving cheers from the townspeople, and then it was official - Springtime had officially begun. 

Crowds of people swarmed the sweet stalls, waitresses walked through the streets with fresh brews and dancing jigs started on almost every corner. 

Vaná exhaled a sigh of relief when she was no longer the centre of attention and descended from the wooden platform to return to one of the many tables outside the Two Bucks Inn. She flopped into her seat and turned to her fellow Warden with a cheeky grin, “I thought I was going to fall from such a height up there! It looks like the town is really eager to have the best Springtime ever. Aren’t you going to join in with the festivities?”

leave open the door

sooooo phil-the-stone wrote this amazing thing called “lose me in the crowds at twilight” and then i sat in a parking lot and wrote this out on paper because i couldn’t not do it. read hers first, then read this. we’re calling it an au sequel, where captain beanpole tells leia about the time he met her mother.

Rieekan gives them the name. It’s ten days after Endor and they sit on felled trees around a campfire in the forest, Leia between Han and Luke, each of her hands wrapped in one of theirs as she’s done so often since they won. Rieekan smiles, blue eyes flicking between Luke and Leia, and says, “Your mother’s name was Padmé Amidala, and she was wonderful.”

Leia knows the name immediately, having grown up with the privilege of the secret history of the Rebellion that Luke did not share, and grins widely as Rieekan says it, brownbrown eyes shining with unshed tears in the firelight. Luke is happy to have anything, a connection to his past that is not pain, and he grins too, turning to his sister and repeating their mother’s name, testing it out on his tongue.

(Han’s breath catches in his chest for half a second when he hears it, but he shakes off the memory. Padmé was a common name, surely, he tells himself, and nobody else notices his shock.)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

aaah the knight and prince au is amazing!! I would love to see more!! I wanna know what happens!! Does sorey confess? Does he not?? I may never know, how very tragic O.o (no but seriously)

Ahhhhh well I’m glad you like it!! (´∀`)♡ I don’t know yet how Sorey will confess and how the two will get together in this AU, since it’s a little more complicated with the discrepancy in classes, but!! Here, have this other drabble I wrote for the same AU anyway (it takes place right before the other one with jealous!Sorey and pretty much features just Sorey and Mikleo bein’ gay before they confess they gay)


“Some fine lipstick on that pig.”

Mikleo huffed and looked into his vanity mirror. A frown pulled at his lips, his hands instantly falling from his hair. He held his porcelain brush tightly; his fingers glowed white from the pressure.

“That’s my line,” he muttered, purposefully sour, trying to hide the way his mouth wanted to curl at its ends. He bowed his amethyst eyes to his brush again, fingers tugging at the loose strands stuck in the bristles.

The knight at his doorway grinned. He pushed himself away from the wall. “Yeah, okay. But you can’t blame me for using it.”

That made the prince smile. Mikleo’s back straightened; his light blue, regal robes fell in gentle waves over his slender form. “Yeah. It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” he asked as his eyes lifted to bright, shimmering green.

For a moment, in the sunlight, they made his entire world.

Keep reading

koolestofkings  asked:

A creak of the door slowly occurred where a blue-haired stranger peaked his head in. "Huh, hey...?" he asked, before fully stepping in. In this bar was a young-looking teen who wore a regal red robe and looked around. It was rather empty without a single sound. Was it open or...? With a groan, he walked straight in to the bar and instead of an "ow" he yelled instead "SERVICE!!"

For a moment, Tifa had stepped away from the counter in the bar, to check up something that was upstairs. Of course, her customers never really knew about the entrance of the stairs. There were three rooms after all. One room which was sort of a storage area. Hearing a loud tone of someone clearly speaking, the barmaid came running down the flight of stairs and blinked before coming behind the counter. “Sorry, that I didn’t hear you before. I was busy with something that had my attention. How may I help you?”

02. Aurulent

Shiny new sneakers. A temporary blindness. Surprisingly sturdy clouds. Jeon Jungkook.

| Word Count: 2774 |


Practice starts in three minutes. You run through a mental checklist, anticipating the blow of your coach’s whistle.

Shoes tied.

Hair up.

Ankles taped.

Something is missing. You know exactly what it is, eyes instinctively scanning the countless runners stretching and chatting on the track to try to spot the lithe body of your one and only—


“Looking for me?”

Jeon Jungkook.

Keep reading



The crash had been hard.  But the ship was relatively intact, and it settled into place.  It took almost half an hour for the weak figure to work its way up from the bridge to the hatch that he knew was at ground level.  Slowly, with a stick he leaned on, he came, nearly hand-over-hand, to the top and then down to the ground.  And with a touch the ship was gone, hidden by its shields, the one ship function still working,

Mika stood, stoo-shoulderd, but somehow still regal, his robes rumpled, his brown-black hair rumpled in all directions, and his face sunken.  He looked like nothing but a walking skeleton, and by now, it was just sheer will that kept him upright and mobile.

He staggered to the edge of the copse of trees where he had landed and then out to what seemed to be a road or a path, and with the sun to his back, he walked, praying he would find shelter before too long.  

After a while he came to a wide paved lane and began to walk along it, but the  weight of the gravity and the heaviness of the air, combined with not much food for a very long time contrived against him, and he fell forward, sprawled near the edge of the road. 


The Phantom Menace: As a young monarch, Amidala often finds others underestimating her abilities. As a sign of her commitment to her people and her capacity to rule Naboo, she wears extremely formal, regal robes. The size of her gowns makes her appear larger and the make-up hides her youth. While sitting in state, Amidala wears a magnificent crimson dress, a color which is a traditional symbol of royal authority. The gown is accented with gold embroidery and shed potolli fur cuffs, and seven sein jewels illuminated by plasma gas circle the hem. The straight lines on the gown subtly emphasize Amidala’s direct approach to diplomacy. The escoffiate headpiece provides gold faceframes to border Amidala’s face, and the famous Jewel of Zenda rests on her forehead to complete her traditional Naboo look.

Amidala’s makeup is also highly symbolic and worn by all Naboo royalty.  The two stylized beauty marks on her cheeks demonstrate symmetry.  The vertical line on her lower lip is called the scar of remembrance and commemorates a time of suffering on Naboo before the Great Time of Peace. Amidala also maintains one tradition from her small mountain hometown - wearing the white nail polish favored by the young girls of her village.  

Taken together, the gown, hairstyle and makeup showcase Amidala’s majesty and strength. 

Design: For all of the Queen’s gowns, Iain McCaig designed costumes with the ability to disguise Natalie Portman. “Because we were going to have one actress playing a duel role in the film, we had to design costumes for her as the Queen that would serve to hide her identity.” The complexity and size of the dress, however, lead to a difficult, involved construction. McCaig suggested to George Lucas that they design a dress with ‘lanterns’ in it, and while Lucas responded skeptically, he allowed the dress to be attempted.

Consequently, for eight weeks and for a cost of $60,000 the costuming department strived to make this dress work. Construction began with an undergarment shaped like an ice-cream cone that was fitted perfectly to Natalie Portman. Several layers of canvas were needed to not only maintain the bell shape, but to support the weight of the wires and lights connected to the batteries necessary to light-up the dress. And while the costume was originally going to be velvet, lighting issues mandated a change to silk.

The headdress was a complex construction as well. Intricate gold work covered the headdress while vintage red lace was used as an overlay on the blade-shaped side panels. Similar to the Eastern influence of many of the other TPM gowns, costume designer Trisha Biggar felt this ensemble had a “a sort of Chinese Imperial feel.”

Niceart one-shot: King's Title

Warnings: none, other than spoilers for the general plot of re: hamatora

Pairing: Niceart

Genre: fluff and romance and angst and a bit of humor

Rating: PG-13 I believe, basically no smut or gore

Summary: King AU based on this image. With a happy ending, since we’re in dire need of those.

thanks for the help richardsthighs


He shouldn’t be here. Even if he’s dressed as a King, even if he’s claiming the throne he now gazes upon, it was not yet his. Still, he couldnt help sneaking back into the palace when he knew everyone would be out on the yearly festivity.

If his followers enquired as to why, Art would say he simply wished to check up on the throne that by rights should be his.

There was no one beside him he could trust enough to admit what he truly wished was to see the place he grew up with…him, once again.

Keep reading

The Goddess's choice (closed rp with kiara-inkwhite)

The goddess fixed her most regal robes so it laid flat over her stomach. It was the choosing day. The day of the year when she could take people from the town as mates. She willed herself to be taller than the average male, and her hips and chest to become full and attractive by the ‘modern’ societies standards. She would go alone, not willing to subject her servant and friend to the boringness of the town.

Noon struck, and she walked down the temple steps, to the town below, as tradition. Anyone from the ages of 18 to 29 was forced into the square to be chosen, as the chosen’s family would be blessed. She sighed and hoped she would find suitable mates.

( kiara-inkwhite )

thor making steve wear regal-ass robes and jewellery whenever he’s in asgard because of “”“"Cultural Purposes”“”“ but really he just thinks steve looks cute and fine as hell in asgardian wear lmao

Make the most of beautiful moments. Beautiful moments predispose the soul to prayer; they make it refined, noble, and poetic. Wake up in the morning to see the sun rising from out of the sea as a king robed in regal purple. When a lovely landscape, a picturesque chapel, or something beautiful inspires you, don’t leave things at that, but go beyond this to give glory for all beautiful things so that you experience Him who alone is ‘comely in beauty’. All things are holy - the sea, swimming, and eating. Take delight in them all. All things enrich us, all lead us to the great Love, all lead us to Christ.
—  St Porphyrios
Make the most of beautiful moments. Beautiful moments predispose the soul to prayer; they make it refined, noble and poetic. Wake up in the morning to see the sun rising from out of the sea as a king robed in regal purple. When a lovely landscape, a picturesque chapel, or something beautiful inspires you, don’t leave things at that, but go beyond this to give glory for all beautiful things so that you experience Him who alone is comely in beauty. All things are holy — the sea, swimming and eating. Take delight in them all. All things enrich us, all lead us to the great Love, all lead us to Christ.
—  St. Porphyrios On Creation; Wounded by Love, [Pg. 218]