seen from Germany
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:// did a quick expression meme on twitter - two of the characters I drew were destiny related! A pumpkin for @thanatonaucy and an Elijah (Atlas when he was human). As always, I’m active on twitter and I still write on discord. Please message me if you’re a mutual for my discord, and my twitter is https://twitter.com/niightstaiker
@thanatonaucy continued from here
☼ - He sighs, drawing a hand down over his mask. It’s obvious that she doesn’t trust him, evident by the feeling in her Light and the narrowing of her eyes. The Speaker is used to this by now, unfortunately. She is not the first Guardian to distrust him, nor will she be the last.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, looking over to her from where he leans against his desk. “I apologize that it took so long for your funding to get approved. And also that you couldn’t get the funding to help Asher Mir. I may be the leader of the Consensus but I cannot overrule them - and in the end, I only have one vote.”
“Trying your best is all I ask, Pumpkin. Thank you.”
💏
💏 A kiss …to wake yours up.
“C’mon, Sugar.”
All Diah received in response to her words was a small, resistant sound as her wife tried to turn and bury even further into the pillows. The titan laughed gently as she watched it happen, shifting so she could bring herself closer. Pumpkin wasn’t getting away that easily.
“I know I wore you out last night, but you gotta get up.” She teased, her voice growing softer now that her face was closer to the other woman. “We’re supposed to get some breakfast before our match today. Remember?”
This time, she only got a huff in response, but Diah was pretty sure that she was getting there. Shifting her weight onto one elbow, she raised her other hand and used her fingers to push the strands of bright orange hair from her wife’s face, exposing her cheek. Leaning forward, she pressed a very small kiss onto the side of Pumpkin’s face, testing.
It took a second, but her wife reacted, face turning and un-burying from the pillows. Diah kissed her again, on the side of her jaw, and then moved to her lips, a third kiss that lingered and was weakly, tiredly returned. When she pulled away, Pumpkin’s eyes were finally open, lips holding the smallest, tired smile.
“I’m up, I’m up.” Pumpkin murmured, and Diah pulled back to let her stretch, her tiny body seeming to take up the whole bed for those few small seconds before she shrunk back down. “Will you take the dogs out while I get ready?”
Another gentle laugh, the quiet warmth of their home like a glow in the background of her mind. “Of course.”
@thanatonaucy continued from here
It had been rather spur of the moment, to kiss Pumpkin. She’s not entirely sure what she had been thinking; an impulse thought, perhaps? The voices egging on that impulse? She’s already forgotten, and part of her is just waiting for Pumpkin to push her away. But... when that doesn’t happen, when the Warlock almost seems to invite her closer, her arms around her neck, she’s stunned.
“I-I...” She stammers, feeling her face heat up. A little laugh leaves her, and she nods slowly, her cheeks quite red and warm. “Y-yes... I-I’d like that...”
“Words Of Wisdom”
Send “Words Of Wisdom”: for my muse to give advice to yours, either gently or bluntly.
He isn't sure how he made it back to Pumpkin's house earlier that evening, all he knows is that he's here now. They were drinking at the bar, never having met before that night, but it's already as if they're best friends. Calling Andreas' ex, leaving him nasty voicemails and texts after the first few times he stopped answering. Probably something he'll end up regretting, but whatever. Emrys is a dick. He deserves their drunken shenanigans.
His buzz is starting to wear off, and somehow they still haven't passed out yet. A miracle, really, and they've moved on to other things.
“Look, I probably don't need to tell you this. But this Diah chick you’ve been talking about all night? I know a thing or two about bad relationships and---" He completely misses Pumpkin's fingernail, painting the entire tip of her finger in one jagged stroke. "Oh shit, sorry." He laughs and tries to focus harder on his accuracy. It's not much better, he’s still far from sober. He continues, both on the painting and what he was saying before. "And the best advice I can give you? I think if she makes you that happy then you better never let her go."
I think Red smells like... hm... the initial smell is that of stale smoke with a strong heady mix of whiskey. The smoke is predominantly tobacco, but with undertones of wood smoke and pine as well as gunpowder. There are notes of that kinda... saddle smell??? Well cared for old leather and salt from sweat. And some of that kind of coins/hot metal/soldering iron smell. Old armor. Also, dark roast coffee. A dark, burning smell that's almost unpleasant, but in a strange way very comforting.
@thanatonaucy continued from here
A frown finds Fawke’s features at her words. He wasn’t that shallow to be complaining purely about the noise being the reason he can’t sleep. He’s not that much of an arsehole to not see the importance of this all. Though he couldn’t bring himself to join in the Festival as it milled on beneath the pair, he drops down to sit on the uppermost step - finding the view substantial enough to keep him there. His own glass was empty - though he couldn’t find the energy to get another. His chest aches at just the thought of moving.
“I mean more of a general ‘I can’t sleep’. The Legion, the City - all of it.” His voice is tight, the Warlock ignores the heat in his eyes as he stares down at the crowds. As much as he understood the premise of celebrating the lives of people who had been lost to this world, Fawke couldn’t bring himself to participate. Celebrating in a time like this... It just didn’t feel right to the warlock as he sits there nursing his empty glass.
"If you sing for us, I'll sing for you. Fair trade?"
“ ...only if it’s between you and me... ”they’ll have to work up to that ‘singing for everyone’ part.
