Sometimes, there's art, sometimes there's writing || DO NOT REPOST MY CONTENT, ask first because I likely have an account where you're planning to post it. || Please don't remove my signatures/watermark, ty 💖 || Header by: @lolmariam ||
illuminate ex-gf where she absolutely hates your guts and would glass your planets because of your prior relationship. it's a massive pain to down her from the skies because she's just literally all the illuminate enemies in one rueful package. seeks you out like a stingray but flies at the height of a leviathan. shoots you annoyingly from the sky like the elevated overseer and laser sights you on occasion
general idea of pixies in a world we have (the ref is the mantis snake because they can look very silly and horizontal)
pixies are deemed as intelligent insects/animals in the fae world (at least in the setting where they're from), are 6 inches at their tallest and go in a handful of groups. they're vegetarians and cannot really process meat so they get sickly if they eat too much meat. it is HIGHLY not advised to give them processed pure sugar. it's like crack to them and they will destroy things if they're frustrated enough when they can't get their sugar
if they choose to show themselves to a person (they are invisible to most everyone outside the fae realm as a default), they can be befriended by offering sweet fruits and kind words. once befriended, they can be trained to do basic tasks in exchange for food. they love sweet berries and can sometimes be seen fighting each other when there is an insufficient amount of offered ripe banana slices
[Verse 1]
He said, let's get out of this town
Drive out of the breaches, away from the crowds
I thought command can't help us now
Nothing lasts forever…
And this is gonna take us down
He's so tall, and handsome as hell
He's the Cap't and he does it so well
I can see the end, as it begins.
my one condition is
[Chorus]
Say you'll remember me
Clearing with a one-ten, sickle on one hand babe
Grand capes and medics’ breech
Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
[Verse 2]
My officer can’t know what I’ll do
His hands are in my gear, his last stim in my suit
And his voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever
But this is getting bad now
He's so tall, and handsome as hell
He's the Cap't and he does it so well
And when we've had our very last kiss
my last request i-is
[Chorus]
Say you'll remember me
Clearing with a one-ten, sickle on one hand babe
Grand capes and Medics’ breech
Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
[Bridge]
All enemy highlights
Tangled up left and right
Burning, it, down
Exfil without me
I hope these mem'ries, won't follow you around
All enemy highlights
Tangled up left and right
Burning, it, down
Exfil without me
I hope these mem'ries, won't follow you around
[Chorus]
Say you'll remember me
Clearing with a one-ten, sickle on one hand babe
Grand capes and Medics’ breech
Say you'll see me again even if it's just pretend…
SAY YOU'LL REMEMBER ME
Clearing with a one-ten, sickle on one hand babe
Grand capes and Medics’ breech
Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
Wildest dreams oh uh oh
Even if it's just in your wildest dreams oh uh oh
In your wildest dreams oh uh oh
No one really considered mister Simon "my milkshake brings all the folks to the yard; Ghost" Riley's sexuality until the 141 were drunk enough to open up and inquire about each other's sexual experiences and exploits one easy night in their favorite local pub. Ghost just said that he never really understood how people got 'drunk' off of pussy or dick or other unholy degeneracies the gods had allowed to thrive within the men of their little group.
It was Kyle who pieced it together first once his addled brain was able to rifle through their past exchanges and Simon's general demeanor towards sexual topics. He had to privately convene and confirm this with Johnny who looked profoundly astounded enough to blurt out "Wait, L.T. Are you asexual?"
Who would have thought that their favorite and only Lieutenant in the 141 was possibly that, asexual?
Price and Ghost looked at Johnny as if the mohawked freak had called their loved ones a slur. Simon squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows at Johnny, while Price mustered the strength to ask "What. Tha' fock's. An asexual," like a tired father restraining to lay down his fury upon his child after a 14 hour shift in the mines. This led to the two younger men clamber to explain it in old man terms for Price and Simon to even have a remote grasp on it. All Price got from it is that it's some kind of label for a person who doesn't get sexually aroused towards what others (god forbid they explain allosexuality) typically get off on.
Price argued that it's impossible for people, especially men, to not have any sexual arousal while Kyle and Johnny tried to argue the nuances regarding the matter. Simon simply watched the exchange heat up that special way that drunk, confused men could only do. They only really started quieting down when Price cleared his throat thanks to a waiter sheepishly asking them to tone it down. The staring from the rest of the patronage helped stomp the conversation completely.
It became awkwardly quiet after that.
They're just four men. Sitting in the local pub. Barely a feet apart and quietly shuffling within their seat. Yep! Normal. They're so normal and typical right now.
"I jus' really don't get it, really," Simon finally spoke to break the silence. "So what if I don't get my nads off an' finish? Don't need it. S'long as I get t' make 'em feel good an' they knew who made 'em cum, right?"
Price looks at Simon quizzically, Johnny gasps an "oh no" under his breath, and Kyle shakes his head.
Caus doesn't like wearing tattoos much. It's not that she doesn't think they're pretty, far from it. Her mother and fathers are rather well inked in their own rights. But she herself finds it... fleeting.
Being a creature of immortality makes it so that tattoos never seem to last long enough to be permanent, no matter how much it is advertised as such. She changes bodies too often, or the ones that last long eventually shed their skin until the tattoos seem nothing more than a whisper of a memory.
No, no. She likes jewelries.
Accessories are things that can be enchanted to last long. She wants things that would never tarnish, never left to rust, never allowed break, never meant to lose. Things that she could attach to herself as a reminder of her loved ones' existence and their love for her: earrings from her father, clothes from her mother, a childhood toy from her papa, an arm band from her first love, the marriage band from her longest marriage, a ring from her beloved handler, a bracelet from an adoring friend, and a necklace from a devoted lover.
These are all little something that she could keep permanently. As long as she exists, so would they.
König who bows down to let you remove his hood when he comes home. It is a ritual of trust between you two that functions as a psychological demarcation line that allows him to think "I am safe. I am no longer in the field. I don't need to be König." His eyes turn from wild and bleary, to something less.. intense.
König who rubs his stubble against your cheek as a greeting so he can hear you squeal and pull away from the sandpaper-like grit. He chases your body with his hand so he could pull you against himself. He buries his nose to the crook of your neck as if reasserting your scent back into his memory. You are so so close to him now. He tries to fill all his senses on everything about you: a reminder that you are real, and that he continues to fulfill his promise of always coming back home to you.
Kilgore remains silent. This quiet moment could not be measured by the tick and tock of the nearby clock. Instead it is based on the thrums of his heart beating strongly against your own. He holds you close in a near-crushing bear hug that leaves you nearly breathless and on your tiptoes. He needs to feel your weight in his arms to maneuver himself out of that near-constant state of battle anxiety, hoping that the clacking of guns and loud explosions would slowly ebb away to the back of his mind where they belong. You let him, of course. Because you know that he needs this as much as you do.
When you both pull away, Kilgore's eyes feel more familiar now. Tired and sad, but content at the very least. He is just content enough to be back home where he knows that love and safety is no longer measured by the bodies that fall in its stead.
DON'Ts:
• Mechas
• Sexually explicit content
• Heavy gore
• Detail heavy pieces
What you will get:
• JPEG updates of your commission (number of updates depend on the complexity of your commission)
• 3 revisions after the sketching phase
• PNG and JPEG of the finished image
• PSD file of the commission
Unfortunately due to where I am situated, Paypal and Ko-Fi is my only real options for receiving payments.
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