#fire-dancer-aurora

Send me 👋 to pet my muse! 

To this day, he still couldn’t believe their luck.  A child on the way, his nation rebuilding, and his home ready for their family.  He wondered if he had done something right at one point, to deserve all of this.

Feeling her hand smooth over his head, he sighed, ear pressed to her stomach.  His sensitive ears picked up the sound of the tiny heartbeats, her swollen belly looking like she might pop any day now.

He held her gently, smiling as she stroked his head.  He couldn’t be happier- well, perhaps when the baby comes.  Until then, Aurora looked as stunning as ever.

Will you be making a twitter for your art?

// I’ve never considered myself personally popular enough to have a dedicated space for artwork (I used to be on DeviantART for years, but I generally didn’t engage with the community - most of my time using art platforms has been very solitary and self-centered to focus only on my own work).

But given the way things are I could change that and look into it. I actually don’t use Twitter. I barely know how it works pfft. But hey, if people want to look at my drawings then I guess I should make them available...

SEND A ‘💭’ TO LEARN WHAT MY MUSE THINKS OF YOURS.

Reference of My child made by @fire-dancer-aurora and @ask-the-half-enlightened-one

nsfwish one under cut

Reaper felt the gaze on his back and turned, a wry grin on his face behind the mask. He approached the woman, standing in front of her.

He was checking his watch when he heard someone approaching and looked up to see a face he was all too familiar with. Without hesitation, he stepped aside and gestured her in. “Hey, Rora. Having a good night?”

Starter for @fire-dancer-aurora​

The show had been exactly as he hadexpected it to be, bloody, raw and savage. Of course, he had been thehighlight of it, as always. He withdrew to the applause and cheers ofthe rapturous crowd screaming his name, to the point they werebreathless. All these women especially, throwing underwears into thered-tainted sand and hoping he would notice them… It always madehim laugh.

On his way to his dressing room, hegrabbed a bottle of water, not to drink it, but to pour the water onhis face and hair. He then wiped it off with his calloused scarredhands, yawned, revealing large teeth, all filed to fangs, and rubbedhis unshaven square jaw. He actually liked his constant three-daystubble, as long as women loved it too at least.

After a quick showerand putting on fresh clothes, he was hitting the streets, relativelysatisfied with his day so far. He stopped at his favorite bar, ago-go bar, and sat at the counter by himself.

God it felt good.