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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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Guess who mari*covers your eyes smiling happily from behind*

Is someone there--eep! -has eyes covered- Ummm... Lian? Irey?

Am I close?

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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I couldn't find you on either of the boards you said you would be on D:

Awww I left infinitecrisis, but I'm still on dc:unitedwestand

I'm also admin of a superawesome site called teen titans go guild where I play both Cyborg and Starfire--occasionally I'll play Mar'i Grayson in future threads with my fellow admin Silv (who also plays Damian in the other site I linked, go figure~) and we are always accepting new members willing to join. We're OC friendly too.

Thanks for checking up on me anon! That's really sweet of you.

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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#starfire #mar'i grayson #nightstar #my dc fanart #teen titans

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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#starfire #nightwing #teen titans #my dc fanart

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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Dami, Mar'i, and Kitty Cat.

“Here kitty kitty kitty...”

Mar'i was on the ground near an old house in the suburbs. It was a house that rested on a foundation of brick, but this particular house had a particularly small hole, almost child size if only she were smaller. It was the perfect width for a cat to slip under, which was how the young heroine found herself in the uncut grass, peering inside. “Come on, come here...” She tried to crawl into the hole, but ended up getting stuck. “It's because you're too fat.” “Shut up Damian, if that's the case then you try.” “TT, move.” He grabbed her feet and dragged her out backward, then made his attempt to get in... except he got stuck too. “You were saaaying?” Mar'i said with a satisfied smile, and prodded his backside with her shoe. “Who's fat now?”

“Stop that immediately!” He shimmied backwards and shot a glare over his shoulder, about to get up and chase the girl for her impertinence when the sound of the cat brought him back to the mission at hand. “We will have to lure it out another way,” he said, but before he could come up with a solution the cat had apparently had enough of them, and was darting out of the hole like lightning and straight toward another within the fence. This property was really a disgrace. “Kitty no!” Mar'i flew after it and Damian dashed with her, climing over the wooden fence as she flew over it. There was a road on the other side, and Mar'i was terrified it was going to get run over by traffic. Damian ran after it like a ninja, who were sort of like cats anyways, and then grabbed the hissing tabby with a disgruntled look on his face. “You were more trouble than you're worth,” he said. Of course, he decided this was the perfect time for commentary, as a truck came toward him. Later, at the funeral-- No, that's not how it went. Mar'i swooped in to pick them up, and landed them in a tree. The fire truck that would have killed Damian helped them

#dc drabble #Damian Wayne #mar'i grayson

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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requested by a-thousand-crows i hope this is helpful ♥

#things mun likes art ref

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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The Artist, a Damian Wayne Drabble

The irony was that he was a pragmatic Wayne with an artistic talent that would put most people to shame. He spoke of the pitfalls of fantasy, while one of his favourite indulgences was to make illusions on paper. No matter how detailed, how expertly crafted, or how realistic the art might be, it would still remain a two dimensional moniker of the real thing, with its importance confined to the realm of the abstract; the whispers of meanings, argued by scholars for its importance to knowledge, culture, and the human condition. He believed it too, as he was quick to criticize the uncultured swines who couldn't recognize what he deemed icons even a fool should know—and that category was not limited to the Mona Lisa and Picasso. Yet at the same time chastising what the art tried desperately to capture; the emotions of people, their peculiarity, their existential conflicts between the good and evil, the discussion of the profound and pure nonsense all at once. In public he'd proclaim he was a practical man, and expected it of everyone around him. In private, he branded himself a hypocrite with every stroke of the pencil.

Writer's thoughts:

#damian wayne #dc drabble #Robin V #Ibn al Xu'ffasch #batman and robin

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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YJ Therapy: Dick

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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Where did you go? :C

Awww, thanks for worrying about me, anon! Well, I've lost my lustre roleplaying on tumblr now that I've found great new homes at dcyoutubeverse.proboards.com and infinitecrisis.boards.net for my Mar'i. I still post artwork every now and again, though I'm not that great (getting better!) and my ask box is still always open. Also, if anyone has any new and fun ideas to spring at me for a roleplay I may get back into the jive, but I think when it comes to roleplaying the lovely Grayson gal, shout outs and much props go to theliterallyflyinggrayson. I also have to apologize to thefastestgirlalive for letting our thread die, and her being so sweet (as well as the aforementioned roleplayer) for checking in on me. I just haven't been able to connect as much as I'd have liked.

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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#-snickers-#dick grayson #slade wilson #discowing

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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#mar'i grayson #nightstar #my dc fanart #dc comics #Teen Titans

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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Glow in the Dark

Drabble: Glow in the Dark Characters: Damian Wayne, Mar'i Grayson Synopsis: Young Damian Wayne is an artist, and a very good one at that. Naturally, he was bred for perfection. He is proficient with many mediums, but glow-in-the-dark pencil crayons appeal to him as much as they would any child his age. So he puts them to use, to draw a friend who came to him from beyond the stars...

Born and bred for perfection, it had not been any surprise that when he picked up the hobby of drawing in his sketchbook, that his technical skills as an artist would be above par even at the start. Through natural progression his skill eventually came to match his talent; he could draw anything. It did not serve a greater purpose except maybe as proof of his finesse on paper, but the sketches were for his own benefit. He put this skill to use to draw what pleased him. It was his 'creative outlet'.

His tool was pencil, usually. He'd use the coloured variety too, and did experiment with options, but the private sketchbook was mostly uniform in medium. He'd sit somewhere, alone and at a distance from his interest, and the only sound would be the scratching of lead on paper. Sometimes, it was fervent, with his eyes darting quickly as he gripped the wood of the pencil tightly between his fingers, needing to get down what was in his head as soon as he was able. Other times, he seemed at peace.

Damian was very careful about who saw his sketchbook, especially since he started drawing her. It was embarrassing. He didn't like to introspect as to why he did it; he had an excuse ready made for himself and if she ever saw. He drew her the most out of anyone else, because she was the one around the most for him to practice on. There was nothing pressing or important that she was attending to, and she did not possess Alfred's many, unflattering lines of the face—which didn't mean to say that he thought she was pretty! She just wasn't as old.

So, in his own space, away from prying eyes, he would pencil in their features with the detail expected from an artist, but not of a boy who kept others at arms reach. He'd draw the lines and subtle details of tiny hands he would never take; draw in a smile that he'd mind not to stare at too long, the smile it wasn't likely he'd put there even if he secretly wished he had. Some keener minds might say it was his way of compensating for what he kept denying.

He'd flip through his sketchbook before sleep, in the dark of the night after doing the routine checks that he wasn't being watched or otherwise monitored. It might be odd, to view one's work in such lighting conditions, but it was a specific drawing he was searching for. Unlike the others, rendered almost invisible in the night, one lit up and was seen quite clearly. He had found a pack of glow in the dark pencil crayons at the art supply store once, and bought them out of the same intrigue most children had with glow-in-the-dark products.

He'd seen her glow in the dark before, when she insisted on a sleepover, beneath the strange fort of pillows and blankets they built in the livingroom as she prattled and he was forced to listen. Even when she didn't do it intentionally, her eyes always caught what little light there was to be had, and they were very green his favourite colour. So he drew her, in the garden at night, with flowers which were her favourite, he liked them too that glowed with her in pinks and purples, while she sat on the white alabaster bench with a halo around her and her florescent green eyes looking right at him as she smiled, and the dark sky above her wasn't usually filled with stars like that, but neither did their garden flowers glow.

His brows furrowed, and he could feel a weird tingling in his sinuses. Damian took the sketchbook and threw it aside in a sudden bout of anger, and tossed over in his bed to pull up the blanket tightly around him, smothering his face into his pillow. He missed her now that she was gone, somewhere else among the stars. He'd probably never see her again, and all he had was a sketchbook.

#Damian Wayne #dc drabble #mar'i grayson

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askmarigrayson · 10 years

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