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umber-cinders · 10 months

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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆♡ 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 ♡ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Please feel free to like my posts as much as you want. I will NOT block you for liking a lot of posts in a row or having an unused blog.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

「 ✦ 𝐔𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ✦ 」

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 𝑶𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒔 🌍 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

❥ 𝙰𝟶𝟹 ❥ 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 ❥ 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚂𝚔𝚢

「 ✦ 18+ Content, Reader Discretion is advised✦ 」

Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪs sᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀᴛᴀ ᴛᴏ AI ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴇs, I ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴛᴏ Tᴜᴍʙʟʀ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʟɪɴᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ A𝙾3. Iᴛ ɪs ᴏᴘᴇɴ ғᴏʀ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴠɪᴇᴡᴇʀs ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ.💕

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!! ❤

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 📝˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

❥ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 [Black Panther] - M'Baku x Reader/OC (WIP - NSFW)

‣ Chpt 1 ‣ Chpt 2 ‣ Chpt 3 ‣ Chpt 4 ‣ Chpt 5 ‣ Chpt 6 ‣ Chpt 7 ‣ Chpt 8 ‣ Chpt 9 ‣ Chpt 10 ‣ Chpt 11 ‣ Chpt 12 ‣ Chpt 13 ‣ Chpt 14 ‣ Chpt 15 ‣ Chpt 16 ‣ Chpt 17 ‣ Chpt 18 ‣ Chpt 19 ‣ Chpt 20 ‣ Chpt 21 ‣ Chpt 22

❥ 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 [Bright 2017] - Original Orc Character x OFC (WIP - NSFW)

‣ Chpt 1 ‣ Chpt 2 ‣ Chpt 3

❥ 𝑰𝒇 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒕𝒔 [Black Panther] - M'Baku x Reader (WIP - NSFW)

‣ Part I ‣ Part II - COMING SOON

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 📝જ⁀➴ 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

❥ 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢 [Black Panther] - M'Baku x Reader (NSFW)

‣ Part 1 of 1

❥ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒔 [Black Panther] - Attuma x Okoye (NSFW)

‣ Part 1 of 1

❥ 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 [Secret Invasion] - Gravik x Reader (NSFW)

Part 1 of 1

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆𝑶𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

「 ✦𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 & 𝚁𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜✦ 」

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cro-crocuta · 2 months

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Just finished "Bright", and let me tell you - I can understand where all this fuss comes from, but my stupid ass likes the movie a bit too much nonetheless.

Also, they made Nick this innocent, adorable, friendly cinnamon roll, which I absolutely love

#bright #netflix bright #netflix #nick jakoby

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forget-me-not-writes · 10 months

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Nyctophilia

Author’s Note: This is my first time posting on here so apologies if there are any formatting issues.

Depression trigger warning possibly.

Your forehead was cool against the glass of the window. You watched the rain trickle across the panes of glass. Knowing your own cheeks mirrored it perfectly, your mood a reflection of the weather outside. You always loved the quiet of the night hours, found comfort in the darkness, but on some nights the silence was suffocating. The thoughts attacking your brain refused to cease. Sometimes it was easier to just give in to them, instead of trying to fight back.

So there you sat, listening to the storm. Hugging your knees close to your chest, taking up as little space as possible even though no one else was around. You wanted to feel small.

Maybe if you were small enough, you’d disappear. Your body shook with silent tears. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you try your best to calm yourself. Feeling the need to put on a brave face for the ghosts in the halls. After some time you opened them, catching a flash of blue in your peripheral.

Fuck

Too busy wallowing in self pity to register the pricing gaze that had been burning holes into the fibres of your being.

How long had he been there?

You heard him sigh as he made his way towards you. You couldn’t hear the rain pelting the windows anymore, only the deafening sound of his expensive Italian shoes hitting the wooden floor as he moved. You were frozen. Caught between the urge to run away and the crushing fear of being seen. Of being weak. Weak in front of him. The thoughts on your mind making the panic worse. He sat down on the opposite end of the window seat you had been occupying. He didn’t say anything immediately, giving you ample of time to flee if that’s what you truly desired.

You turned from him wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your hoodie. Praying that the lack of light meant he hadn’t seen anything.

“Why are you awake?” It was soft, gentle, unlike him to sound like this.

It was no secret that you and the elf hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. The situation you had found yourself in was a monumental cluster fuck to say the least. A wrong place wrong time situation, that could be traced back to magic. Because everything that went wrong could usually be traced back to magic. And you’ve handled it with about as much grace as a raccoon trapped inside of a trash bag. Hurling insults, sarcasm, or petty gabs at the elf whenever you could. He always remained unaffected, as if he had never heard them to begin with. Always calm and collected, emotionless. You hated it. You envied it. He wasn’t ruled by his emotions, not like you.

Taking a breath in hopes your voice would not betray your emotional state

“I could ask you the same thing.” You spoke quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else. Your gaze fixed on the water droplets rolling down the window.

“I suspect we are awake for the same reasons.”

You scoffed finding some amusement in what he had said.

“Your mind is refusing to let you rest.” The statement threw you. You stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, not willing to face him completely. His gorget stole your focus as it reflected the small amount of light coming from the window. His tie had been loosened and he had forgone the jacket and vest he usually wore. Your eyes travelled up from his chest where they met a silver pair of eyes looking back at you. Your heart beat quickened, lungs constricted and you averted your gaze. Knowing every move you made was being studied.

“What’s on your mind, Blue?”

You saw the opportunity and you took it. Forcing the conversation to be about him was the safe choice. It helped shield you, distract you.

He sighed once more, seeing right through what you were trying to do. But complied anyways.

“Where do I begin?” You no longer felt his eyes on you.

“The Inferni responsible for this mess, I’ve never seen before. I have no idea who they are. I am responsible for the safety of everyone under this roof, especially yours.”

You were the only civilian trapped in this house. Two cops, two feds, and you. It had been forty eight hours with no leads and no way out. Everyone was feeling the stress.

“And you haven’t exactly made that easy.”

“It’s not like I’ve made it difficult.” You glared at him

“Enough.” He sounded more like himself now. The hard edge coming back to his voice.

He’s right

You were too exhausted to start a fight, let alone finish one. You wrapped your arms around your middle, comforting yourself. Head resting against the wall, gaze drifting back to the weather outside. You don’t know what exactly came over you, maybe it was the fragile state you were in.

“I’ve been rude to you.” You admitted softly “I’m sorry.” You had never spoken to him this way. The moment the apology left your lips you could feel his eyes on you and you hugged yourself a little tighter.

“How come the only time you can look at me is when you’re insulting me?” His tone was back to the softness of when he had first spoken. He had move for the first time since he sat down, positioning himself parallel to you. Welcoming in a way, which made you shrink and your gut knot. He was waiting patiently, giving you time. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“You…scare me.”

“I-“ you didn’t let him finish. Fearful of losing your courage if he had spoken.

“It’s your eyes.”

“My eyes?” He said it more to himself than to you. His gorget reflected the lightning once more and you were instantly drawn to it.

“When you look at someone, you see right through them. As if every nerve is exposed, every neuron.” You were struggling slightly to keep your voice steady

“This frightens you?” He lowered his head in a failed attempt to met your eye.

“It terrifies me.” You stare just over his shoulder

“I have spent my whole life avoiding being seen by people. Because if anyone were to look close enough they’d see me.” Your voice began to break “See this weak, broken, pathetic, worthless little thing.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you hid your face from him. Angry with yourself for crying once again. Even angrier at your confession.

“I wish I never existed.” It was barely a whisper but those words deafened him. Your body shook violently with the emotions you were desperately trying to suppress. Fighting a losing battle with the tears.

“Fuck- I’m sorry.” You were shaking your head and wiping at your eyes. “ You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Neither did you.”

Those three words shattered every wall, every mask, every defence you had ever made to protect yourself. You felt seen. And when you finally looked at him, he swore his heart stopped. But it wasn’t long before the construction started. You felt exposed. You quickly looked down at your hands.

Had he always been this close?

You needed to create distance.

“You only care because it’s your job.” Your voice hoarse

His jaw clenched and he pulled you toward him by the back of your neck. Guiding your head to his shoulder, his other arm at your back holding you firmly against himself. He had practically pulled you into his lap. His touch shocked you. Overwhelmed by his words, his warmth, how gentle he was. There was no stopping this, something snapped inside of you. Your one arm wrapped around him, your other, hand gripping at the fabric of his dress shirt. You cried silently into the crook of his neck. You cried until your head hurt. He remained silent through it all, simply allowing you to feel what you needed too. His thumb slowly rubbing at the base of your skull and his other hand running up and down your spine. A simple message. I’m here.

When you had no more tears left to cry and had calmed slightly, his hold on you relaxed. Feeling embarrassed you started to pull away, he let you, but only slightly. The hand at your back now rested on your hip and the other now cupping your cheek. He wiped the tears from your eye. On instinct you went to turn you head but his hold was strong and he wouldn’t let you. He brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Your mind is playing cruel tricks on you.” He spoke low and slowly. You could feel his breath on your face.

“You’re not pathetic. You’re not weak. And you are not worthless.” He pulled back to look at you better, you met his eyes once more. Something in those silver orbs said that thoughts akin to these were no strangers to him. He gave you one last look and nodded slightly. He started to move away and it crushed you a little. Before your mind could react your body did. You had grabbed his wrist. A silent request to stay.

“I’ll be back.” He brushed his fingers along your jaw as a small reassuring gesture. You watched him as he stood, adjusted his shirt, and walked away. You felt cold without him, suddenly made of ice. Part of you was scared you’d never feel warmth like that again. You had only been in his arms for a couple of minutes and you were already addicted to the feeling. How safe you felt. It was dumb, you could hear him in the kitchen, he was only a wall away.

You were pulled from your thoughts when he reappeared. Placing a glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink.” He nodded towards the glass, hands in his pockets as he stared out the window. Not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in the fabric of his clothes. Poised and perfect as always. You took a sip of the cool water and put it down.

“All of it.”

He chucked softly as you rolled your eyes, but obeyed. The water eased the pain in your head slightly. You placed the empty glass back down on the table.

“Good.” He turned to you. “It is late, we both need to get some rest.” He held his hand out to you. Assuming it was nothing more than a kind gesture to help you up. You took it. Only he didn’t let go. Leading you past the couch you had crashed on last night, up the stairs, and to the room he had claimed for the time being. Only letting you go as he closed the door.

The low glow of the lamp on the side table was the only light source in the room. You noted the jacket and vest draped over the arm of the chair in the corner. The rain, although still there had quieted down. Your stomach began to knot and you wrapped your arms around yourself staring at the floor.

“Why bring me here?”

“To sleep.” He spoke softly as he placed his gorget on the bedside table. You watched his hand as it travelled to his neck, hooking a finger in the knot of his tie. Loosening it effortlessly, that too joined the piece of silver.

“No, this is your space. I’m fine on the couch.” Your eyes darted around the room. Solely being in the space he had claimed felt like an invasion. You weren’t about to steal his bed too.

“Look at me.” Again you obeyed him with out hesitation. You didn’t know if your pliable nature right now was due to the emotional outburst earlier, leaving you exhausted. Or the fear you didn’t yet know you had at the thought of losing the closeness between the two of you.

“If I did not want you here, you would not be here.” He nodded to the bed as he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. “Please.”

Your socked feet made little sound as you made your way across the wooden floor to the opposite side of the bed. You pulled the soft fabric of the blanket back and slid underneath the sheets. Mattress moulding to the curves of your body. He sighed, content with the fact that you were not fighting him. The mattress dipped with his weight as he sat, taking off his shoes. Turning off the light, he glanced at you before joining you underneath the covers. His eyes had a glow to them, like that of a predator stalking its pray in the night. He pulled you close, head resting upon his chest. As if on auto pilot he resumed the gentle rubbing up and down of your back. Your hand found its way back to his chest, loosely grabbing his shirt again. Clinging to him was your way of grounding yourself, that this was real and he was here. He placed a hand over top yours and held it gently.

You knew in the morning you would act as if nothing happened. As if he hadn’t seen you at your most vulnerable moments. As if you hadn’t sobbed and clung to him like he was your only life line. As if he had never held you close and told you it was alright to feel. No, you would treat him the same way you did when the sun was shining. But the sun wasn’t shining right now, so you would keep him close, let his warmth invaded every molecule, listen to his heart beat until it consumed you.

“Thank you, Kandomere.” You whispered. It was the first time you had used his name. His grip tightened around you and you swore his heart skipped a beat.

#kandomere #Netflix Bright #Bright #isthisHurt/Comfort #Forget-me-not-writes #hurt/comfort #Bright2017 #my writing

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prideprejudce · 6 months

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one thing I will say is that I like the costumes and how they are sourced faithfully off the cartoons costumes

i mean let’s just remember where we started

to how its going now

#avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender netflix #netflix #netflix avatar the last airbender #live action atla #live action avatar the last airbender #like they clearly look like their cartoon characters and this is still a kids/young adult story so yeah let their costumes be bright man #better than the sad beige hell the atla movie was

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akimao · 1 year

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✨

#I don't even try to write a description...the emoticon is enough✨#I wish everyone had a bright crown #I love the raven feather tunic #is it a tunic? not sure of the right english word #tranquilli ho finito i morfei per adesso 😄#my art #akimao #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #acrylic #(for the sand)#a lot of sand #watercolor #prints pn redbubble...search akimao

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melmedarda · 1 year

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sun ⋆ moon ⋆ star

⸻ JAYCE, VIKTOR, & MEL, Arcane

#this was inspire by some fanart i saw on ig #anyways its about how the sun and moon are opposites and the moon is in the light of the sun #its about how the sun is also a star #planning to do vi jinx and cait later #arcaneedit #arcane #arcane netflix #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane jayce #viktor arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #mel medarda #mel arcane #arcane mel #meljayvik #also viktor's gif is my favorite because the moon has a bright side and a dark side and you see the switch #chefs kiss

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gellavonhamster · 4 months

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I am the sea and nobody owns me

#moodboard #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #inej ghafa #pirates of the caribbean #anamaria #elizabeth swann #black sails #anne bonny #crossbones #the pirates: the last royal treasure #scenic world #my stuff #really wanted to sneak some opla in here but alas alvida's bright pink lipstick was clashing with the general vibe a little bit #and nami doesn't dress in the golden age of piracy kind of way some other op characters go for

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queenangella74 · 2 months

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Working on drawing cute babies. Here is Queen Angella with her baby girl, Glimmer.

#she ra #bright moon #queen angella #glimmer #angella #angella glimmer #glimmer angella #corel painter #Baby Glimmer #she ra netflix

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magnus-rhymes-with-swagness · 10 months

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thinking thoughts about swords symbolizing the corruption of the institute and the control it has over the kingdom. the sword motif is absolutely everywhere - banners and art, kids’ games and cereal commercials, the statue of gloreth at the center of the kingdom. the institute building itself boasts even more - there are tons of statues and suits of armor, all holding swords. swords are everywhere you look!

another example is the way ballister and his swords are used as a tool by the director. he’s knighted with the same fake sword that kills the queen, highlighting how the system can only thrive on manipulation and deceit - the director can only have control over the kingdom if she lies to it, which she does primarily through ballister. he also immediately tries to go to his sword when he finds out nimona is a shapeshifter, as he hasn’t yet unlearned the values taught to him by the institute. the director keeps his real sword the whole time and uses it to try to kill who she thinks is ambrosius, planning to frame ballister for that murder too, which becomes a major turning point in his arc as he decides to abandon the sword as he no longer wants to be part of her game.

but even though he’s made the choice to reject the institute, he still struggles to unlearn its values. he’s been brainwashed from a young age, and had plenty of time to internalize false notions about heroes and villains and monsters. while he cares deeply about nimona at this point, he still instinctively goes to draw his (other) sword when he learns she’s the “monster” from the legend of gloreth.

one of the ways the director retains power is through gloreth - since she’s considered the symbol of righteousness and heroism, the ideal to which all knights should strive, she’s invoked at every moment possible. the scroll bearing the legend is used to justify killing nimona, and “the will of gloreth” is used to justify practically everything. ballister’s sword has a G on it, which is visible right before he gets knighted, and ambrosius’s sword looks just like the one the statue holds aloft. (gloreth didn’t actually have a sword like that, at least not when she knew nimona, but nobody knows this - the real story had been warped and twisted to fit the narrative so much over the course of a thousand years.)

ambrosius, being her descendant and the golden boy, finds it even more challenging to realize the institute is corrupt. he’s also been brainwashed and forced into a role, and there has always been an immense amount of pressure on him to follow in her footsteps. so when he meets ballister in the tavern he places ballister’s sword on the table and suggests killing nimona, as this is what the institution wants. ballister, who knows that nimona isn’t the one to blame, angrily walks out and leaves the sword laying there, trying to leave both it and the institute behind again.

ambrosius becomes understandably reluctant to use his sword for anything violent after cutting off ballister’s arm. he doesn’t draw it when leading a squadron of knights to find nimona and ballister, even when everyone else has their weapons trained. he points it at them and doesn’t use it when he and the other knights have them surrounded. at one point he even places it in front of the director in the effort to protect her. (he seems to be very loyal to her for reasons i’ve touched on here, and is still heavily under the influence of the institute at this point in time.) in fact, the only time he ever actually uses his sword going forward is the fight with ballister, but even then he’s not really fighting exactly, just deflecting ballister’s sword. he doesn’t try to get in a single strike, not wanting to hurt ballister again or give him any more reason to hate him.

nimona, having grown up under very different circumstances, knocks over suits of armor that have swords. she destroys the statues that hold them. when she and gloreth play fight as children, gloreth holds a toy sword while nimona holds a stick.

everything is inverted at the climax - when every other knight is running around with weapons, ambrosius doesn’t draw his sword. he stands in the middle of the street and asks aloud, “what are we doing?” as he’s finally able to see how corrupt and how dangerous the institute is.

and nimona is the one who seeks out gloreth’s sword, and ballister is the one who lets his own sword fall, breaking the cycle and rejecting the institute’s values once and for all in order to save her.

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