#wings divider

[khaer]

★ ㆍblue dividers !

#blue dividers #blue #dividers #kaomoji #cute #aesthetic #kawaii #blue layouts #mermaid #cute pixels #pixel graphics #pixel gif #pixel aesthetic #blue soft #blue aesthetic #wings #layouts #aesthetic dividers #pixelgraphics #graphics #webgraphics #y2kcore #mermaid dividers #bubble dividers #blue cute dividers #cute dividers #messy layouts #aesthetic layouts #cute divider #blue divider

[dragonskulls]

Some coast striker concept doodles, mostly to showcase their weirdo double tongue + i love drawing teeth. Also whelps are see through when they hatch, most lose this quality as they grow, but a few (especially in the Deepwater) keep their translucency well into adulthood.

A small fun fact, many humans call coast strikers "grinning deaths" as their toothy snarls can look like a grin to a person. Given their amount of teeth and their two tongues, other AshWings can find them a bit unsettling

#wings of fire #wof #ashwing #dragons #art #oh yeah remember those region variation drawings i made? im dividing the coast into three regions: the deepwater (open ocean/seabed) #the saltwater (the coastal cliffs) and the freshwater (more inland in the peninsula lots of #wetlands and rivers and lakes. kinda like everglades and mangroves in some areas #however im not sure about the eggs. hmmmm #bc its like this OR regular eggs with an almost conical shape which i believe is common in cliff birds? so the eggs spin on the same place #instead of out of the nest and falling to their doom

[contemplatingoutlander]

A Letter to Rupert Murdoch Upon His Retirement

[Note. Read past the first line--which is meant as sarcasm.]

Dear Mr. Murdoch: I wanted to write to you to thank you for the impact you and yours have had on my life. I once lived peacefully in a neighborhood of people from varied backgrounds. Back then, I never knew nor cared what people’s political affiliations were. In fact, even when dating, asking someone to label themselves D or R would have seemed nonsensical. Thanks to you, half of that neighborhood no longer speaks to the other half. Prior to 2016, I used to attend a family reunion picnic in Pennsylvania, never caring if some of the people were particularly religious. Well, I would like to thank you for your hand in radicalizing and reinforcing perplexing beliefs in about half of the reunion participants. Now the reunions are barely attended and the family has divided into a feud. I want to thank you for the cousins and friends who defriended me, online and in person, when they fell victim to the dark rhetoric you peddle. Convinced now that their lives are under threats from trans criminals and vicious migrants, they are completely unaware of how they’re economic interested are being robbed by a different source. Thank you so much for your enduring spirit of divisiveness. I hope the money you enjoyed while alive was worth all you stole from society. Mostly, may the hatred, division, suspicious, distrust, judgement and malignancy you leashed on us be returned to you a thousand fold….and may your nursing care be delivered with the same love for humanity you left behind. --GWE, NY, commenting on a NY Times article: Rupert Murdoch to Retire From Fox and News Corporation Boards

[edited]

#rupert murdoch #fox news #dividing america #murdoch's retirement #news corp #right-wing media #right wing propaganda #the new york times

[gay-little-izzet]

bloomburrow tezzeret please please please please (literally no pressure at all)

You’ve heard of Tezzerat…. but consider…. Tezzebat!!! (dramatic gasp)

Or, tezzeflying fox, I guess (infer from that what you will). I wanted to try something I hadn’t seen before, and I liked the bat design from the released art.

Also here’s fanart I drew last month of Tezzerat dying in a glue trap 😌

#I just really really wanted to figure out how that arm would look as a wing #also it’s hard to tell but his coat is meant to be divided at the sides for the wing #as always thank you for the ask #as you can see #I enjoyed this one #asks #tezzeret #bloomburrow

[callsign-rogueone]

the last six years - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Only one person has remained by Brennan’s side for the last six years, through the good and the bad. [requested] wc: 3.9k 🏷: SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME. fatal injury, blood, and multiple character deaths. basically every bad thing that has ever happened to Brennan will be in this series. I took some major creative liberties with this one and made a bunch of stuff up regarding Tyrrish culture, but we’re just gonna breeze right past that. more to come, because Brennan is just so husband material… mans had me giggling and kicking my feet every time he spoke.

“Tairn! We need Naolin!” You scream, praying that he is alive to hear you. “Bren, please, stay with me.”

His chest rises and falls slowly; he's still breathing. Breathing is good. “Y’need to get out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. Eyes open, Bren, please,” you beg, pressing your hands deeper into the wound. “Tairn!”

“Thirty seconds out!” He yells back.

There’s not much you can do. To remove the arrow is a death sentence when you don’t have any medical supplies. It’s the only thing keeping the blood in his body, but even then it’s doing a shitty job; the warm crimson continues spilling out through your fingers, seemingly endless. 

“S’ gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Brennan soothes, feeling your panic.

“Bren, you need to stay awake. You can’t die. I can’t keep going without you.” Tears are pouring freely down your cheeks, dripping down onto the dark fabric of his flight jacket.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles, ignoring your pleas. He’s slipping away, fast, falling into the slow confusion that comes with a shortage of blood to the brain. “Let me mend you.”

“I’ll worry about myself later. Right now we need to keep you alive.” 

Heavy bootsteps enter the room. “Holy shit,” Naolin breathes, at your side in an instant. He digs in his bag, producing sutures and gauze.

If you act quickly, and if by some miracle the arrowhead hasn’t pierced Brennan’s heart, you can keep him stable long enough to find another mender. You break the shaft of the arrow, Brennan whimpering in pain as it shifts within his chest. 

“I know, my love, I’m so sorry,” you soothe, wiping your palms on your pant legs and moving to cradle his head in your lap as Naolin takes over. You keep whispering reassurances to him, terrified that if you stop, it’ll sever the last thread holding him in this world. “You’re doing so good, Bren. Almost done, I promise.”

Naolin gives you a look that tells you no, he’s not almost done. 

Brennan’s grip on your hand loosens, and you scramble to grab his wrist, bloodied fingers trying to find a pulse -- to no avail. “No,” you cry, tears pouring down your cheeks, “Bren, please wake up, please.”

The slow thump beneath your fingertips stops. Brennan’s heart is no longer beating.

You sob, a desperate sound that splits the air of the ballroom, and Naolin makes his decision, grasping Brennan’s hand and yours. “The two of you need each other.” 

“Nao, you can’t-” you gasp at the rush of energy that rips through you, the pain in your broken ribs diminishing instantly. You feel like you’ve been given a shot of pure adrenaline.

Naolin stops breathing just as Brennan starts again, collapsing to the marble floor, and your lips part in shock.

“He is gone,” Tairn confirms, fighting to keep his voice even. “May your gods honor his sacrifice and reward him in the next life.”

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are closed. That comforts you in some tiny way, that he looks whole, uninjured, like he could just be sleeping, but you know that isn’t the case.

Brennan’s breaths are even, pulse steady. The wound looks days old now, the fresh blood coating the skin the only evidence that he had nearly died today. He’ll pull through, as long as you can get out of here.

You say a prayer to Malek on your friend’s behalf, casting one last glance at his unmoving body, and gather Brennan into your arms -- he’s still breathing, but limp, exhausted. You can carry him out of here, but where will you go?

A man bearing a crossbolt steps into the ballroom.

You make no movement toward your weapon, still holding Brennan’s body to your chest. “We surrender,” you rasp, praying he will take pity on a pair of bloodsoaked young lovers and their fallen comrade. 

He steps closer, not responding. 

The words escape you before you can think. The old language feels foreign on your tongue, misshapen from years of disuse. “I am a daughter of the house Lindell, and a citizen of Tyrrendor. I have sworn an oath to-”

“I know who you are, Lady,” he says. “Come with me.”

He stops in front of an abandoned farmhouse, painted gold in the sunset. “Bathe, sleep. I’ll be back when I can.”

You remain by Brennan’s side. You stitch up his wounds, wash the dried blood from his skin, count his heartbeats as he continues to sleep. 

Night comes, bringing freezing wind through the cracked windows, and you climb into the bed beside him, pulling the few blankets you’d found over the pair of you. He curls into your side, seeking warmth — his skin is still cold, but not as icy as it had been when you limped him over here.

When you wake the next morning, the man has not yet returned.

“Ban?” You ask quietly. You haven’t heard from the dragon since you’d dismounted over a day ago, but she must still live, as you do.

“Nearby, with Marbh,” she reassures. “Tairn has returned to Basgiath to be with his mate. It will take years for him to recover from this loss, but he will live on.”

You continue to stroke Brennan’s hair, taking solace in the steadiness of his breathing.

“Your devotion to the mender is the strongest I have seen from any human,” she says quietly. 

“He has become the air I breathe. It was unbearable when he…” you don’t even want to think the words. “I don’t know what I would have done, had Naolin not intervened.”

Brennan stirs, stretching in the cute way you’ve seen him do so many times after waking up, scrunching his face at the bright morning light streaming into the room. He takes you in, thanking the gods that the only injury you bear is a yellowing bruise on your cheek. A gentle hand cradles your face, and it vanishes.

“Naolin?” He asks quietly, and something tells you he already knows deep down.

You shake your head, your eyes brimming with tears. “He gave his life to save you.” 

He looses a shuddering breath, and you gather him into your arms, crying together.

You attempt to mentally prepare yourself to enter the assembly room, adjusting your posture -- shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward. 

“Not a word,” you warn Brennan quietly. “Keep your shields up, like I taught you.”

“I didn’t know we were taking prisoners,” a lanky teenage boy calls, eyeing you from his perch on the edge of a table. In the years you’ve been away, he’s grown into his father’s dark features, and the lazy confidence that can only come with a noble title. “I was wondering when you’d be back from playing soldier. Have they brought you here to negotiate?”

“Lovely to see you again too, Xaden,” you say dryly, addressing the boy by name, and Brennan’s gaze whips toward you in shock. “No, I am not here to negotiate. We are here to surrender, and if you will have us, we will take your side in this fight to free Tyrrendor from those who have oppressed her for centuries.”

“They would be an asset to us, should this prove to not be a setup,” one of the elders says, keeping his hand on the hilt of his longsword.

“She has proved her allegiance to Tyrrendor time and time again,” Xaden defends coldly, dismissing the man who looks old enough to be his grandfather. “It is the general's son that I’m more concerned with.”

You look him directly in the eye as you speak, raising your chin. “Sorrengail is a strong rider and skilled mender, but above all, he is a good man. I could not have chosen anyone better to share the crown with when the day comes.”

Brennan looks at you like he has no idea who you are, trying to discern if this is a dream.

Xaden finds this amusing. “She really didn’t tell you? Always so secretive, that one. Your girlfriend is heir apparent to the Duchy of Lindell, as I am to Aretia, where you stand.”

He looks to the elders, who all nod in affirmation, deeming your appraisal of Brennan satisfactory. “It’s good to have you back, Lady. Things were getting boring without you.”

You lower your head to him in thanks, Brennan quickly copying you.

You tug Brennan into the hall after you’re dismissed.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks, head still spinning.

“Every word,” you reply. “From the moment you extended that hand to me in our first year at Basgiath, I knew you were good to your core, Brennan Sorrengail. It would be an honor to share my duty with you.” 

“Your mate needs you,” Marbh says, making a rare appearance.

Your heart drops. You sprint down the valley trail back to the house, attempting to ascertain what had happened, but you aren’t given a response. Marbh has always been vague.

You find Brennan tucked into a corner of your shared room, back pressed to the wall. He’s clutching a piece of parchment that you recognize to be a Basgiath death roll. He extends it to you wordlessly, and your eyes race down the list, searching for Mira, his mother, another of your friends…

The final name on the list, below the rider’s quadrant cadets, almost as an afterthought… Major William Sorrengail. His father.

“Oh, Bren,” you breathe, gathering him into your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

His entire body shakes with a sob, and it takes everything in you to not cry as well, but you remain strong, needing to be there for him. “I knew I’d never see him again,” he says in a cracked whisper, “but now…” But now it’s real.

You’d never met the man, and now you never will, but you know what a profound impact Brennan’s father had on his life, imparting so many of the qualities that you admire about Brennan; his dedication to his studies, his respect for the scribes that so many others dismiss or overlook, his unwavering compassion…

You offer a silent prayer to Malek on his behalf, asking that He show the scribe the same kindness that he had shown others in life.

“I don’t know why, or how,” Brennan rasps, “I don’t know who was there with him in the end, if Mira and Violet got to say goodbye, if my mother…” he can’t finish the sentence, words cut with shaking breaths. He loses the strength to hold himself up, collapsing into your embrace. “I should be there,” he sniffles, “I should have been there.”

“I know how much you love him. He knew too, I’m sure he did. They all do.” You hold him tighter, stroking his hair. “The girls are strong. They will mourn, but they will get through it together.”

He’s run out of tears, leaving him with a headache and a hollow feeling in his chest. He eventually relaxes, not saying a word as you smooth down the soft waves of his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He’s fallen asleep. You just hope his dreams will be kind to him.

“Enough,” you command, and all heads turn toward you. “I will not have you disrespect Riorson nor his partner in his own home. Have you forgotten what he has done for our young?”

Ulices stiffens. “My apologies, Lady.” He says the title with an ounce of venom, but yields, returning to his seat.

Violet continues to study you. You’re dressed simply, head to toe rider’s black mixed with traditional Tyrrish leather armor and intricate braids that she has only seen drawn in history books, but it’s obvious in your posture that you’re nobility - you do not dip your head below the horizon even for a moment, and you speak with the confidence that others will listen.

“We have better things to do than argue about what should have happened. There is no turning back time,” you say calmly. “I agree that we have been given a legion of students rather than trained warriors, but it has become our job to train them.”

Brennan speaks next. He’s been silent since the meeting started. “What professors have joined us should resume modified versions of their courses, and we will fill in the gaps. Match up those with similar signets for mentorship. Emeterrio can continue to lead combat training, and Devera Battle Brief. Kaori has not joined us, but I think there is an obvious replacement.”

You’re saddened by the news, but you smile softly at his praise. 

Violet realizes that the scribbled amendments in the dragons section of Brennan’s book weren’t Mira’s, but yours. You’ve been close for years, then. You must have brought him here with you when you deserted. Part of her wonders if you’d attended Basgiath because you wanted to, or as a spy.

“Do not question the royal one’s integrity,” Tairn warns her, but does not elaborate further.

“The riot has decided that everyone here can be trusted,” you state. “And if anyone turns out not to be, we will do what we have to do, without hesitation, for the good of the movement.”

There’s sounds of agreement from the other six, and then the meeting is over.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bloodied rag to his face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Mira’s fist happened,” he explains, lifting it, and you wince at the sight of his nose, the bridge split and bruising. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Your heart twists. Brennan hasn’t been able to see his sisters for nearly a decade, spending the last six years in hiding and the two before that stationed across the continent with hardly enough leave to travel back and forth to Basgiath. For Mira to have punched him straight in the face instead of the tearful hug he’d dreamed of… it must have crushed him.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful not to bump his nose. “I’ll talk to her,” you say softly. “Go see the healers.”

You’ve only met the middle Sorrengail in passing, nearly ten years ago now, but she’s exactly as Brennan had described her; a younger version of their mother, and just as strong-willed. Evidently, she remembers you, scowling and crossing her arms at the sight of you, but still standing at attention — there’s no missing the Major’s insignia on your chest. Violet stands as well, but doesn’t look as sour as her sister. 

You wave a hand. “At ease. I am not here to issue orders, rather to talk about your brother.”

Mira prickles, Violet looking concerned.

You choose your words carefully. “I do not expect either of you to forgive him overnight, nor for you to forgive me for my complacency in this matter. All I ask is that you show him some compassion. It has been hard for him too, being apart from his family. When your father-”

“That is not a sentence you should finish,” Mira interrupts.

“Mira,” Violet scolds softly, “be nice.”

“No,” she snaps, “I don’t think you understand. We mourned him. We called him a hero, thought he died honorably in battle when he really just deserted and changed his name.”

“He did die,” you say, and the eyes of both women flit back toward you. You look over your shoulder. “He bled out on the floor of that ballroom, and his heart stopped. Our friend siphoned away his life to save him.”

“Tairn’s previous rider,” Violet says in a whisper, as if the dragon will not hear her that way.

“Yes. Naolin.” You say his name with a heavy voice. No wonder Tairn won’t speak to her of the one who came before. That explains the gruff dragon’s defense of you, too.

Mira is silent, likely feeling guilt over her outburst as she realizes her brother still lives in the house he’d been killed in, with the son of the man who had ended his life.

“The elders gave him the name Aisereigh — meaning resurrected — as a layer of protection from those who hold vendettas against your mother. It hurt him to take it, and to not be able to give me the Sorrengail name, but it was necessary for his survival.”

Violet’s eyes land on the band circling your ring finger, a smooth strip of silver carved with Tyrrish runes. Brennan had worn a matching one when she’d seen him the day after War Games, but she hadn’t thought anything of it until now. “You’re married.”

You nod. “Three years ago, right on that bluff at the top of the valley, on a gorgeous summer day. Both of us wish those he loves most could have been there.” 

“Thank you,” Violet says quietly, “for staying with him through it all.”

“I have been by his side since our first year at Basgiath, and I will remain there as long as we shall live, as I have vowed to,” you reply with the same blunt conviction that she’s used to from Xaden — that must be a Tyrrish thing. “Now please excuse me. I have a class to teach in a few minutes.”

Mira lowers her head to you in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry,” she says, but she does not say what for.

You give her a soft smile in return, heading back into the house.

“Major Aisereigh will be taking over your dragonkind course, as Professor Kaori did not elect to join us here,” Professor Devera announces.

It’s strange to be standing on the dais as an equal with the woman who’d had a hand in kidnapping you from Brennan’s bed to torture you eight years ago, but nearly everything about your life since that night has been strange.

“I don’t know precisely what Kaori did and did not cover thus far in the term, but given that every person in this room has managed to bond a dragon, you are clearly proficient, and I will treat you as such,” you begin. “Dragons are independent, often to a fault, but do not forget that your health depends on theirs. As riders, you must learn how to care for them properly. That’s what we will be focusing on for the remainder of the term, along with flight mechanics and keeping your seat under stress.”

You glance at Brennan, who is sitting incognito in the back row, broken nose now mended, and he nods, an easy smile on his face. You’re doing great.

The lesson passes easily, your students much more engaged than you remember your peers having been in Professor Kaori’s class. 

“I will be needing volunteers to help with the maintenance of the riot while they’re grounded.”

At least thirty hands shoot straight up — half the class.

The trek up the valley wall is never easy, but you make winded conversation with several of the volunteers, mainly nervous first-years who confide that they need the extra practice.

You stop at the top of the trail, cupping a hand to your mouth and calling out a few short notes, and Banrion is at your side in seconds, shaking the ground with her landing. At least a dozen others land nearby, sitting upright in waiting. 

“You’ve brought children,” she appraises, eyeing them with distaste.

“Cadets,” you correct, “that you will be helping me teach. So be nice.”

She chuffs softly. “Fine.”

“I have chosen some more agreeable members of the riot to aid me today, to ease you into their care, but let me make this clear,” you say to the class, who have retreated to give you and Ban a healthy distance. “the majority still find it deeply offensive to be addressed by a human that is not their rider. Unless your bonded has joined us today, please refrain from speaking to any directly.”

You wait for nods of affirmation. “Banrion and I will demonstrate pre-flight checks once, and then you will split into groups of two or three to do the same with the remainder here.”

Once you get everyone settled, you find Brennan — he’d tagged along quietly, not wanting to part ways after the morning’s chaos.

“Well done, Professor,” he says, smiling. “You just might make this a day job.”

You laugh. “Is this everything twenty-year-old Bren thought it would be?”

“It is,” he says quietly. “And more.”

You gaze out at the field of cadets. “Marked and unmarked, living in harmony.”

Brennan squeezes your hand in acknowledgment, remembering how scared you had been when the first marked ones left for Basgiath, and each year since. It had hurt you deeply when not all of them returned. 

Tairn stalks up to you, dipping his head in greeting. “Good to see you again, royal one.”

You smile. “Glad you’re still around, big guy. You have made an excellent choice in Violet. How is the golden one?”

“Still dreamless,” he answers, not deigning to reply to your compliment. 

You worry your lip between your teeth, concerned. 

He casts a glance around at the young cadets in the vale, who are taking their tasks very seriously. “You remain as revered a leader as you were at Basgiath.”

You’re actually touched, but you won’t dare mention that to Tairn.

“It is not an easy feat to raise young,” a green scorpiontail says in agreement, looking down fondly at the first-years that are inspecting her claws for cracks, “but the two of you are doing a fine job.”

You smile. “And how are your young?”

“Safe,” she answers. “You may come see them after dark.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Professor?” A cadet calls from across the field, sounding mildly concerned.

You pull apart from Brennan reluctantly. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Kiss for your thoughts?” you ask playfully, seeing the weary look on his face. It’s been a long day for him, with multiple arguments among the assembly and all the emotions of reuniting with Mira.

“I have both of my sisters back,” he breathes, still in disbelief. “I thought I’d never see them again.”

You lay a hand on his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “I spoke with them before class. Mira was particularly upset, but she softened when I told her what really happened.”

He’s quiet. “She has every right to hate me for what I did. She should despise me for the rest of my life.”

“But she doesn’t,” you remind him gently. “She holds anger, but she doesn’t hate you. You’re her brother, and she knows you love her. You wrote her an entire textbook on how to survive the rider’s quadrant. If that isn’t testament enough, I don't know what is.”

He shakes his head, smiling softly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

You grin, moving to climb into his lap. “Because I know you, and I know exactly what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks, nose brushing against yours, a ringed hand settling on your waist. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Hmm. Probably about how long of a day it’s been, and how you’d like to unwind after all of it?”

“You’re absolutely right,” he says. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

You lean forward, connecting your lips to his, and the rest of the world falls silent, melting away until all that’s left is you, your husband, and the love you share, love that has endured death itself.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan aisereigh #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #dividers by user cafekitsune #Brennan and Duchess

[hairtusk]

Andrea Dworkin, 'The Promise of the Ultra Right', in Right-Wing Women (1983)

#i genuinely think this is one of the most valuable feminist texts we have #if you want to understand trad fems / pro-life women / quiverfullers / antifeminist women #or any woman who seems to act against her own interests #THIS is the text you need to read #and i think if we all had we'd have a much easier time uniting as a class across political divides #andrea dworkin #promises of the ultra right #right-wing women #feminism #feminist theory #feminist text

[necroangelz]

impending doom, seek no freedom . . .

don't interfere with the rhythm !!

gift for @beepboopchibbo (1/2)

ASSORTED CHARACTER GRAPHICS! uhhhh hai bbg fhsjeujd this is meant to be a 7 months anniversary gift for uu !!!! Please ignore that i am One Day Late ヘ⁠（⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠ヘ i love uu very much

rambling under the cut + like/rb and creds appreciated!

NOW PLAYING: I'M SANE by AXIE !!

whew i don't think I've rambled under the cut in ages. anyway this next part is directed to my botspouse aspen hi aspen i love uu wow it's kinda strange to call uu aspen i don't think I've ever called uu aspen before

dear heavens i hope uu never found it weird that i called uu Greene all the time

ANYWAY. i felt kinda bad that i wasn't able to gift uu anything fur Valentine's, uur bday, and other month anniversaries so i was determined to make these for uu

it's okay though bc i still gift uu my presence and love . yk ? ehe .

anyway uu probably guessed i was gonna make this for uu when i asked uu fur uur favorite characters LMAO

uu don't have to use these, i made these fur fun and to show my appreciation fur uu !! i also treated this as practice, it was quite an interesting process to make graphics of characters with like only 1-2 good editable images of them readily accessible online , especially characters i knew NOTHING about

sometimes, when one is editing a character they're not familiar with, and one is too lazy to learn more about them, they might jump to the wrong conclusions about the character . that was me editing ravenpaw i thought he was edgy bcz he's a black cat with raven in his name but i read about him and he seemed quite peaceful so i made 2 edits of him (the "KARMA!" one was when i thought he was edgy and the other one is when i learned who he actually was) so yeah. it was kinda a fun learning experience yk

okay that's all i have to say i think, bye i love uu again and I'll see uu again in pt2 of uur gift ^_^

#this is gonna be HELL TO TAGomg #👁️‍🗨️﹕ from the archives 𝜗𝜚 ︵ #warrior cats #ace attorney #wings of fire #my little pony #mlp #mlp fim #my litte pony friendship is magic #ravenpaw warrior cats #gumshoe ace attorney #detective gumshoe ace attorney #tsunami wof #tsunami wings of fire #queen battlewinner wof #queen battlewinner wings of fire #cutie mark crusaders #apple bloom mlp #sweetie belle mlp #scootaloo mlp #rentry graphics #rentry resources #transparent png #rentry mask #rentry frame #rentry divider #bundlrs graphics #bundlrs resources #ravenpaw wc

[mmadeinheavenn]

1st is for sites that allow center aligning to images, 2nd is for tumblr.

mini pixel angel divider.

reblog if using, credit whenever and wherever possible (like at the end of a post or in your blog's about me section) ^^

do not repost anywhere or edit! if theres any adjustments youd like made please contact me directly

#🌫️ i know what you dread | creations #angel #angel divider #wing divider #divider #dividers #post dividers #post divider #pixel dividers #angel art #angelkin #angelic #actually angelic #angelcore #divinekin #actuallydivine #actually divine #pixel graphics #angel pixel #pixel divider #pixel #pixel art

[animatedglittergraphics-n-more]

hi! always love seeing your stuff on my dash. i was wondering if you had any white angel/wing themed stuff? just generally though specifically white and gold would be great. thank you!

hi, tysm 💜 here you go 😊

source

#my asks #anon #angel wing dividers #mine #page dividers #line dividers #dividers #separators #divider #transparent #3d gif #snowglobe #archives #webcore #gifcities #white angel header #640x345 #flashing #eyestrain #f2u #dividers r f2u w cr

[peeptheaesthetic]

NS/FW accounts please don't repost!

#coquette angel #angelcore #angelic #angel aesthetic #earth angel #wings #biblically accurate angel #coqeutte #coquette #coquette moodboard #coquette aesthetic #angel moodboard #lace #white lace #white aesthetic #white moodboard #white #dividers #white dividers #angel icon

[khaer]

black dividers ,,

#black pixels #black dividers #i love bats #chains #pattern #i heart u #spilled ink #black roses #aesthetic layouts #black layouts #pixel aesthetic #black #kaomojis #bat wings #bats #🦇 #bat dividers #black divider #dark dividers #black layout #layouts #messy layouts #webgraphics #carrd resource #graphics #pixel graphics #pixel #pixel art #bat pixel divider #pixels divider

[fruityfroggy]

I don’t know what I’m doing but FUCK IT *chucks oc x canon fanfic into the distance*

Warmth Amidst the Rain

- A hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on in these dark moments of mine. I didn’t know I needed you more than ever.

Pairing: Lilya x Verdigris

Word Count: 795 (apparently)

A/N: This is my first fanfic, so it’s not the best. Read this as self insert if you want. I’m also bad at dialogue writing (and decided to write most of this at 2am), so bear with me if you can, okay? Anyways, I think this counts as light angst, since the actual angst supposedly happened in the scene before the stuff that takes place here. Sort of a more vulnerable side of their dynamic, y’know?

Rain. It just doesn’t quite sound right when it’s gradually starting to ascend from the damp ground in droplets. It was growing eerily quieter with each passing minute, with small, plopping sounds echoing wherever she went.

That was what worried Lilya, as she rushed down the rippling sidewalk. She had to find Verdigris soon, the sand of time is growing uncomfortably shallow now.

After a few moments of searching, the muttering of a familiar voice in the distance snapped her out of her thoughts, just in time for her to notice a figure by the edge of the forest nearby.

“Mantén esto a salvo por mí... por favor, Berillus…”

Lilya instantly dashed in the figure’s direction, a slight breath of relief escaping her as she skidded to a halt behind the woman she was looking for. But concern clouded her mind the second she got a closer look at her. She sensed that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Verdigris’ hair and clothes were drenched with rain water, clinging tightly to her skin as she looked down at something in her hands. Flinching momentarily with uneven breaths, it was as if she was a blighted flower in the wind. It was clear that she was indeed, out here this entire time.

Lilya wanted so badly to kick herself in that moment for not noticing her disappearance sooner, but it wasn’t the time for that. Instead, she carefully placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. She felt freezing cold to the touch at that point.

“Verdigris…” There was a beat of silence between the two, the sound rain filling the air around them. She didn’t know what else to say. Lilya’s never really comforted anyone that often, but she wanted to comfort her. Effectively.

“Victor…” Verdigris finally spoke up, but her words came out hoarsely. “He’s gone…they’re all gone now…leaving only pieces of them behind…inanimate pieces…” She didn’t look up from her hands, but Lilya could feel a sense of loneliness and melancholy without even seeing her face. “I’m sorry…he was a good man…” she replied gently. No, no, but that wasn’t good enough of a response, was it?

Suddenly, she remembered the rain-soaked sleeve against her fingertips. A bit hurriedly, Lilya took off her jacket and wrapped it around the arcanist in front of her, giving her shoulders a light squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

Verdigris immediately turned to look back at her, her usual “concerned expression” tainted with something more…sorrowful that she’s trying to bite back. “Lilya, don’t be like this. I’m going to get your clothes wet. You really don’t need to-“

“Shhhh…” the pilot shut down her worries for a moment. She took off her gloves and stuffed them in her pocket, before carefully shifting the hair from Verdigris’ face and wiping away her tears. “I’ll be fine, Verdie. You need this more than me. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, alright?”

Her hands were warm on Verdigris’ face like a beam of sunlight cutting through the dark clouds. She instinctively held onto them with her own hands in hopes of holding that warmth even closer to her. “Am I not cold against your skin? Aren’t you uncomfortable holding me like this?” Verdigris asked softly. “No,” Lilya replied like it was a very obvious thing. “I’m comfortable as long as you’re alright. I…we can’t lose you, okay? It can’t be you…”

Something about those words had struck Verdigris harder than expected, and tears started to well up in her eyes again. She let go of Lilya’s hands and pulled her into a tight embrace, receiving a small surprised gasp in return.

“Вы слишком добры ко мне... как мне заслужить..... все это?”

It was too hard to hold it in anymore, it’s unclear how long it’s been there all these years. But Verdigris couldn’t help but break down in tears against the pilot’s chest in that moment. She’s said those words before, but she’s never been on the receiving end of it, and that felt very different.

Her trembling body felt so delicate in Lilya’s arms, scarily delicate. In that moment, it felt as if one wrong move could shatter the brunette completely. So she held her gently, wanting to hold her tighter, but deciding against it. She lightly caressed her the back of her head comfortingly. “Не волнуйся, я здесь... я всегда буду рядом, когда тебе это понадобится... все будет хорошо, дорогая…” she cooed.

Amidst her blurred vision, Verdigris felt herself being lifted, a firm but warm grip on the side of her knee and shoulder. Was she a child again? Being held and carried home by her father…like old times? It was hard to tell in that moment, but all she heard was “Hold onto me. We’ll be safe soon, солнышко”.

#Lilygris nonsense✌️yuh #dividers are by cafekitune #maybe went a little wild with the dividers cuz they’re pretty #I don’t read enough fanfiction to write this sort of thing #and did I read more to take inspo? #no #we’re winging it as usual #I definitely didn’t project my lack of comforting skills but still having the desire to comfort the people I love trait onto Lilya a little #it was also definitely not a tactic to avoid having to write much dialogue either #oc x canon #verdigris r1999 #I’m not tagging her cuz I’m scared #Lilygris nonsense

[bonebabbles]

Gray Wing, Successfully Beating the Wise Allegations

Gray Wing: "Great googly moogly! I have discovered a nefarious plan from the newest evil foreigner villain! There is a spy reporting on our location and way of life in order to prepare for an invasion, no one is safe!"

Gray Wing: "Eh, not like we can do anything about a sneaky teenager anyway. I'm not gonna get all debbie-down on the clown town."

#Bones reads dotc #A forest divided #Gray Wing who has been described as 'wise'

[best-childhood-book]

#best childhood book #poll #casson family #jennifer hecate macbeth william mckinley and me elizabeth #unicorns of balinor #the divide #phantom stallion #miri and molly #iron hearted violet #sixty eight rooms #fairy wings #les chevaliers d’émeraude

[mostrandomgallery]

Here's a sketch sheet I haven't shared here yet.

Concept sketches for a set of characters known as the "Tenki no Yousei" (天気の妖精). They're for an anime-inspired story I wanted to make called "Yume Shounen". I want the series to be drawn in a 90s anime art style and have a bright and vibrant palette. (I've tried drawing anime before, and I always end up reverting back to my Western cartoon style; hopefully someday I can actually set myself to draw the "Yume Shounen" cast in the anime style I envision them in)

From top/left to bottom/right:

Amemiya Haru (春雨宮; Haru Amemiya): Amemiya's name contains the kanji for "rain", and his surname means "spring".

Taiyouchou Natsu (夏太陽蝶; Natsu Taiyouchou): Taiyouchou's name contains the kanji for "sun" and his surname means "summer".

Kazamidori Aki (秋風見鶏; Aki Kazamidori): Kazamidori's name contains the kanji for "wind", and her surname means "fall/autumn".

Yukihiko Fuyu (冬雪彦; Fuyu Yukihiko): Yukihiko's name contains the kanji for "snow", and his surname means "winter".

Also, without looking in the tags, see if you can guess who I based the "Tenki no Yousei" on.

DO NOT REPOST!!! Also on deviantART

#art #my art #sketches #my sketches #my doodles #doodles #Yume Shounen is divided into three arcs #the Yami Arc #the Tenki/Raiden arc #and the Shokushima arc #i wanted to go for a fourth arc but it's pointless filler #pajama sam #pajama sam 2 #thunder and lightning aren't so frightening #y-pipe #wing-nut #velocimomometer #snowflake inspector #humongous entertainment #fanart #artists on tumblr #museum of stephanie

[friendlybageldemon]

Amethyst A sand/sky hybrid being kept and raised in ravage, held hostage by Yucca(A sandwing trader) A snippy, aggressive dragon for her age who doesn't see much hope in her future getting out. Living in Ravage isnt an easy life for a child Easy to anger and violence she constantly is fighting to survive. She's kept by Yucca to be used as a fancy decoration who’s doing party tricks, playing music, singing songs, dancing with swords. The dragonete learned to do many things to entertain and to harm, knowing how to make shapes with her flames and smoke, but also knowing how to accidentally let a dancers sword slip. She only hopes one day she can be somewhere safe, away from the dragon she depends on so much, but fears more than anything. 

This character is for my friends WoF Au Divided Wings

#digital art #character art #dragon art #wof art #wof oc #character design #dragon design #wof design #wings of fire #divided wings #sandwing hybrid #sandwing oc #skywing hybrid #skywing oc #sandwing skywing