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#oh will i learn how to draw buildings???
equill · 1 month
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The Warden
Panel: No escape.
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Ok, now just some silly ideas to share (playing around with the au)
Comic 1: Invading dreams
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Extra: no thanks.
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Comic 2: Unwanted attention
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miodiodavinci · 10 months
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the latest in a long line of D&D characters ! ! ! please meet outis, my archaic warforged paladin ! ! ! they were originally built to find patterns in chaos and help guide travelers through hazardous places where rules are few and far between, though a recent expedition gone awry seems to have put an end to its career
even still, they're still on a journey to some place far, far away, though no one seems to know where—least of all outis w
doodle of how we usually end up drawing them in the ms paint session notes below the cut w
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computer graphics is my passion
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keeps-ache · 1 year
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looking for answers
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andromedasummer · 7 months
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think i should get time machine so i can kill. peter jackson
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trollbreak · 6 months
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One of these days I’m gonna actually make beastly art in like his actual colors but um. I’m having fun returning to my comfy play scape lately <3
#doing shading studies on skulls for the funsies was such a tangible thing in how I do lineless art now#so like I somewhere got going drawing on index cards bc they’re less space to fill than a full page and thus less intimidating. that became#drawing silhouetted buildings and horizons against a gradient sky- I used roughly cut masking tape to have clean sun/moon and if I wanted#other clean lines. while I was staying w my grandma for a while I went oh shit I could do this digitally and that’s when I started getting#into digital art outside of just tracing photos exclusively. started playing with silly doodles digitally and somewhere along the line#wanted to draw teeth bc why not. struggled and didn’t like the result- tried again a few days in a row. liked how I’d improved but wasn’t#satisfied. so I saved an image of a skull lowered the opacity and originally was gonna trace the teeth but that got boring so like. I used#white to mark out the brightest points on the skull. a light grey for the next brightest. rinse and repeat until the whole thing is covered#and I’d do that for ages. like a year or two I think. I’d done other art too but the skulls and doing the same process with selfies was a#fun way to burn a lot of time and to just. have an ongoing project I could return to. a ways FURTHER down the line I was like ah damn. I’m#real happy with these but since I just grabbed images off whatever search engine idk if it’s ok for me to post these especially since I#wouldn’t even know who to credit anymore. so eventually I just sorta. stopped#but ummmm if u hit me up I can send u some of my skull study whatever’s and u can peek at how I mean they massively affected my process and#how I shade and stuff. that was like my whole learning process with shading outside of like. do line under the chin and the simplest things#that follow that train of thought. those skulls 🤝 buddy. rewired my brain and I’m vibin w it
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warlordfelwinter · 1 year
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decided to fill a university req with an architecture class this semester just for the hell of it and every week we have to do a sketch of a building on campus which will be cool because i will be forced to practice drawing structures which is something i'm really not good at or comfortable with and it's also not cool because it's january and i just spent an hour sitting on a concrete slab outside sketching and i didn't even think to get a coffee first
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andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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I am trying so hard to learn how to recreate junji ito's style, and I literally think that the line work is so detailed that my poor little crippled wrists are not up to the task
But! I think I have figured out a way to work around that using pre-made cross-hatching brushes in clip studio! Which means hopefully I can focus on getting down the major shapes of his illustrations, and then i can learn how to fill in the ludicrous amount of tiny tiny little lines digitally!
and THEN I am going to draw characters from the video game Don't Starve Together in that style! And vice versa. I would love to draw a cute little chibi of Tomie 😈☠🙀
Time to crack into the file entitled "scary boi jail" that I keep on both my phone and my computer, so I can trace a bunch of panels from Uzumaki.
Happy Twisted Flesh Tuesday, everyone!!
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carcinized · 1 year
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sometimes i feel bad because i learn different than other people but then other times i am like. i learn different than other people and thats awesome and diversity is cool and important and how new ideas are formed!! and then i dont feel sad anymore \
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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i understand why the characters in yu-gi-oh monologue abt what their cards do and shit now
#for various equally silly reasons i'm reading abt how to build a pokemon card deck for competitive play#and like. i fucking understand how these things work now. it's crazy. i'm not entirely sure how a game would flow#but i'm understanding the mechanics of how these things work now#and i'm imagining watching a pokemon card game tournament and i'm like 'hmm yeah i do imagine i'd need someone to narrate#what each of these cards lets me do when they're played assuming i'm not married to the game meta'#although i also kind of imagine that the sort of people who'd watch this stuff would know enough to not need it narrated#kind of like how i understand how the kits of most gnshn characters work on a basic level n i'm familiar enough w/the game n its meta#to be able to understand most kits just from reading abt them although ofc it's hard to know anything for certain#w/o playing for yourself to get a Feel for it since there can be fiddly nonsense not mentioned in print lol#but i know enough abt how the game works on a more basic/fundamental level that i can follow/recognize core strategies at a glance#the sort of fundamentals players draw upon to execute their plays n stuff. i imagine someone good enough at pokemon cards#would be familiar with these sorts of things to not need every word of every card narrated to them to know what's up#even if they don't have the text of each one memorized; it would be a simple elaboration from there anyway i imagine#it's kind of fun to see the same kind of advice repeated in this site on pkmn deck-building that friends and randos i let into my world#taught me when i was learning the basics of gnshn team building n investment priorities and whatnot#like 'build your deck around your main attacker; everything should synergize w/Them'#'oh so like picking a build/playstyle for your main dps and then building your supports to maximize the buffs on that'#'make sure you have enough energy cards in your deck but make sure to pay attn if they're too much or too little for your strategy'#'oh so like managing er requirements' and so on and so forth#tbh i just think it's neat how there seems to be universally applicable advice going in to teaching people strategy n stuff#i can totally understand why my high school physics teacher (the one who is now a verified twitch streamer) is so into gaming meta#limitations force compromises and since different people will decide how to compromise differently it breeds creative strategy#花話
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joycrispy · 9 months
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months
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Finally getting help (prt 9)
Masterpost
“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall. 
“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.
“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind. 
“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.” 
Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.
“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.
“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.
He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.
Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny. 
Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.
This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony. 
He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.
They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.
Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.
“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.
Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him. 
Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?
Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”
When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.
-----
Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.
“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.
“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.
“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”
“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”
“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back. 
He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.
“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said. 
“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy. 
“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little. 
“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm. 
He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.
Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”
“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.
“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.
Next
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goosita · 5 months
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when young!politician!snow takes you home with him…
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its all wandering hands, squeezing and clawing when he leads you through the front door of his penthouse. he slams the door shut and pushes you against it to kiss you senseless again. his body presses into yours, smooth silk of his dress shirt sliding against the satin of your dress. he only parts his mouth from yours to sink to his knees, lifting the hem of your dress to slip off your silver stilettos.
“coryo,” you whine softly, already missing the heat of him against you. he looks up at you with a sinister grin, pushing the skirt of your dress up to your hips.
“shhhh, i’ll take care of you,” coriolanus whispers, dragging his tongue in a slow line up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. his crystalline eyes stay locked on yours as he leans in and presses a lingering kiss to the growing wet patch on your panties. the gesture along with the eye contact makes you shiver, a broken please falling from your lips. and to think, just this morning you were innocently making coffee for him in his office.
coriolanus has mercy on you, too eager himself to draw this out. too desperate for you. he slips your panties down your legs and pockets them, carefully lifting one leg to rest over his shoulder and wasting no more time. he dives into your cunt like a man starved, his tongue delving straight through your slippery folds.
you gasp and arch your back, one hand clawing at the wooden door behind you and one hand tangling into his perfect pale waves, curling into his hair desperately. the tug at his locks makes him moan, his eyes fluttering almost drunkenly as he laps at your wetness. his tongue finds your clit easily, teasing at it with eager strokes while two of his fingers work their way into your body. he curls them forward inside of you, brushing against something that makes you whine beautifully for him.
“such a good girl,” he breaks away to purr, looking up at you. coriolanus, still kneeling before you, looks up at you with his icy stare now turned stormy. his lips are kissed red and plump, shining with your arousal and his eyes gaze upon you like he’s worshipping you. “so beautiful, my darling. does it feel good? are you going to cum for me?”
he punctuates the question by leaning back in, mouth ravishing your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you in smooth, precise strokes. he watches you closely, learning quickly what makes you moan and gasp.
“yes! oh fuck, yes, coryo….” you pant, feeling the heat between your legs build. he keeps his eyes on yours as he watches, pushing you over the edge into an orgasm that makes your ears ring almost embarrassingly quickly.
coriolanus works you through your release, moaning low and gravelly against your cunt as you soak his fingers and tongue. you glance down in the haze of your high fading, noticing the way his hips shift uncomfortably and rock subtly against nothing but the friction of his own trousers.
“you taste so sweet, baby. you have no idea how long i’ve been thinking about this,” he tells you when he pulls away. he carefully slips his fingers from you and smirks when you whine at the loss, tutting softly. coriolanus lets your skirt fall back down to the floor before standing, taking one of your hands and lacing your fingers together. he brings them to his mouth to pepper kisses across your knuckles, letting your breathing slow.
“i think about you all day, every day,” he admits in a soft voice, leaning his head down to rest his forehead on yours. “its worse at night, when i have to wonder what you’re doing. if you…think of me. i wonder if you touch yourself, wishing it was me instead.”
his nose brushes against yours almost sweetly, in contrast to the lewd way he’d just devoured your pussy. then his words turn to filth again.
“do you know how many times i’ve laid alone in my bed and fucked my own hand, wishing it was you? imagining you spread out under me while i fuck you so senseless you can speak?”
he smiles when he notices the dazed look in your eyes, the way your body arches to press into him even after bringing you to orgasm with his mouth. you want more from him and he knows it. “would you like me to do that? hm?”
your eyes flutter and you nod, fingers curling into his shirt to draw him closer. his hand circles around your throat, not restricting but his thumb presses under your chin to tip your head up a little further, a little closer to him as he leans down. his lips brush against yours just slightly, but he doesn’t kiss you. instead, he whispers sternly to you.
“say it. say, ‘yes, coryo. please fuck me’.”
“coryo please. please fuck me, yes,” you babble slightly, feeling high from his touch and his body heat.
coriolanus coos softly, bringing the back of your hand where they’re still joined against his cheek to nuzzle into it. “you’re such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, pulling you by the hand away from the door.
the penthouse is so large, glossy marble floors and soft lights as he weaves through it to lead you to his bedroom. once inside, he closes the door and pulls you to him, bringing his lips back to yours to kiss you breathless again. you can taste yourself on his mouth, his tongue sliding against almost teasingly slow.
his bed is soft when he lays you down on it, after he unzips your dress and lets it fall to his floor. coriolanus pauses at the foot of the bed after you lay back, slowly undressing himself as well. you watch as he unbuttons his shirt and slides it off his shoulders, the way his hands make quick and easy work of undoing his trousers and kicking them away.
he crawls over you on his bed, caging you in his arms. coriolanus nudges your legs apart with his knee, trailing slow, hot kisses along your throat.
“you have no idea how stunning you looked all night,” he whispers, pausing to softly bite at your collarbone. “it took everything in me not to drag you into a dark corner and take you right then and there.”
shivering at his words, you cup his face and pull him back into another wanton kiss, licking into his mouth. “you’re driving me insane, coryo,” you confide.
“the feeling is mutual, darling.”
emboldened by his own confession, your hand wanders down to brush your fingers along the outline of his cock. he’s straining inside his black boxer-briefs, and your touch makes a soft whimper escape him. he’s so unashamed about the noise, grabbing your hand and slipping it beneath his waistband until you can wrap your fingers around him.
“feel what you do to me? always so fucking hard when you’re near me.”
hearing him swear like this, a man usually so calm and unfazed, urges you on. your hand slowly strokes his cock while you watch his face. his lips part and he mewls softly, rocking his hips into your touch.
“need to be inside you, baby,” he almost whines, gently taking your hand out of his underwear. he discards them quickly, settling his hips between your spread thighs.
his cock slides through your wetness a few times, coating him in your arousal before he slowly pushes inside your aching cunt. the sound he lets out is almost animalistic, his fingers twisting in the sheets beside your head as you take him inch by inch.
“fuck,” he growls, leaning down to bite at your shoulder. “so fucking good. s’perfect for me.”
coriolanus bottoms out and pants softly, giving you a moment to adjust before he’s rolling his hips slowly, making you both shudder and moan. his cock presses into just the right spots, making you see stars.
he keeps a slow pace for a little bit, building you up until your nails are dragging down his back and making him hiss in pain and pleasure.
“more, coryo. please,” you beg.
“whatever you— shit, whatever you want.”
watching him begin to lose control like this only makes you feel hotter, brain more clouded with lust. he’s always so poised and composed, but now you lose yourself in him as he does to you, rutting into you like a beast in heat.
“tell me you’re mine,” he growls suddenly, hand slipping between your bodies to toy with you clit. “tell me you’re mine and i’ll give you anything you want.”
“i’m yours, c-coryo,” you stutter as you rapidly approach orgasm for the second time tonight. “i’m yours, i’m yours!”
your obedience makes him groan loudly, biting down on his kiss-swollen bottom lip. he rubs your clit faster and watches your face as you tremble below him.
“good girl, f-fuck. such a good fucking girl. cum for me, darling. cum on my cock, let me feel you,” he grunts, delirious and pussydrunk. his voice, dark and low pushes you over the edge and you squeeze down on him, sure that you’re drawing blood from how hard you claw at the skin of his shoulder blades.
your orgasm triggers his own and coriolanus snarls and presses his hips into yours hard enough to bruise as he cums inside of you, flooding your cunt with his release. he pants heavily, shuddering and sealing the act with a kiss to your lips.
in the afterglow, coriolanus lets you lay your head on on his chest and he cards his fingers through your hair. his heartbeat is slow and steady, body pliant and tangled up with yours.
“darling,” he whispers.
you lift your head to look up at him, momentarily getting lost in his wintery eyes. his fingertips brush along your jaw before skimming down, lifting the snowflake pendant around your throat.
“we can’t tell anyone,” he says softly, his eyebrows pinched worriedly. “it would be…a scandal, to say the least.”
you nodded, understanding. coriolanus is right; you’re still his employee and he’s a powerful man. there’s all kinds of sinister ways the press could spin this.
“but,” he continues, the corner of his lips twitching up. “i’d like for you to keep this. to wear it, even if i’m the only person who knows.”
he lets the pendant fall back against your skin, watching your face for a reaction.
“of course, coryo. i won’t take it off,” you promise, smiling small. he mirrors your little grin and steals a kiss from you.
“it’ll be our little secret, miss y/n.”
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elizabethemerald · 1 year
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Don't Sneak up on People with Swords
@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.
Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 
She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 
“Excuse me?” 
Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 
“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 
The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 
“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 
“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 
“This building is not fit for human occupation.”
“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 
She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 
“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 
“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 
She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 
“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 
Talia’s eyes widened. 
“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 
“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 
“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 
“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 
Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 
“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 
“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 
“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 
“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 
He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 
“Would I get a sword?” 
“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”
Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 
“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 
Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 
“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 
“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 
Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 
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soapskneebrace · 5 months
Text
confessional offerings
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previous - neighbors - next
Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Dirty talk. Implied masturbation. LIGHT daddy kink (the word is not used but the dynamic is implied). Also on Ao3.
The neighbors lay their cards on the table.
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“Hi, love,” he replies. “Where are you? Still at dinner?”
“No, we left. I’m in my hotel room.”
“Good,” John says. He feels his own expression go soft at the sound of your voice, which is sweet and gentle even across miles and distorted by the phone. “I missed you this morning.”
He hears you shift—imagines you laying in bed, in your pajamas after a shower, skin warm and hair still a little damp. He can almost feel it if he imagines it; the rhythm of your breath with his mouth against your neck, his open hands across the soft expanse of your stomach.
He’s never seen your bed, so he has to supply his own in his mind. The idea starts up an ache that’s been building all day.
“Me too,” you say, at a near-whisper. You sound painfully shy.
John smiles. He likes that shyness, likes that you give him the chance to draw you out of it. “You know, if you want to know why I like you, love, all you have to do is ask. I’d tell you if you did.”
You don’t respond for a moment. He doesn’t press. You like that he does that, he’s found, that he gives you time to think. John has no qualms doing that for you; he wants you to feel comfortable with him. 
Finally, in a small voice, “Why do you like me, John?”
“What a question,” he says, unable regardless to keep from teasing. “Where do I even start? You’re putting me on the spot, here.”
“John!” you whinge, and he laughs.
“Hm,” he murmurs. “I like that you’re kind. You never have to spend time with me, but you do. And you’re smart, love, I like that a lot. You guessed I was bored without me saying anything, and did something to help me. I don’t think you know how much that means to me.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing you to read my books. Just so I can have something to talk about with you.”
“If that’s what you think forcing is, I’d like to see what happens when you really try to get something you want.”
You laugh, so he knows from that sound that you know your fear is a little ridiculous. Good—if you really thought that nonsense, you might leave him alone.  
“And I like the way you say my name,” he says, hearing the desire in his own voice. Will that sound scare you? He’s got to show it to you at some point. You need to know how easily you can get him going.
“How do you mean?” you ask. 
“Like it means something to you,” he says. “Not a lot of people call me by my first name, love. And no one says it the way you do.”
“Oh,” you say, small and soft.
“I want to hear you say it more often,” he continues.
“…John,” you say, and it hits him like a lightning strike. His cock throbs suddenly and near-painfully.
His voice lowers, roughens. “Just like that.”
You say it again, still shy, but on a breath that is clear in its arousal. “John.”
This is not where he meant for this call to go, but he couldn’t complain about the direction if he tried. He shifts his legs, tries to convince his growing erection to sit a little more comfortably against his thigh, but does not touch himself. He isn’t there with you, not yet. 
“I like that you give me that, love. You let me have so much. More than you know.”
“I always think that,” you say, passionately. “I never understand. I don’t know why things mean so much to you.”
“Because it’s you,” he says. “There isn’t a lot of…gentleness, or kindness, in my life. And you—that’s all you are. You give me more of it than I’ve ever had. I’m a man starved, and all you ever do is feed me.”
He wants to see your face so badly. He wants to see the little crease that shows up between your brows when you get emotional. He wants to hold you again, feel the weight of your body on his, learn your shape with his hands and mouth. He wants to say all of this, but he doesn’t want to scare you off.
“I haven’t fed you yet,” you say, with a little waver of humor. “You’d remember my cooking.”
John blinks, and then barks a laugh. “Oh, love. I want to devour you.”
You make a little noise, and yes, John is painfully hard now, able to feel the beat of his own blood in his cock against the tight crotch of his pants.
“Is…is that what you’d do?” you ask. “To me?”
“Yes,” he says, letting his voice sink deep into his chest. “For hours, if you’d let me. Sweet girl, I want to spoil you rotten.”
You make a humming sound, high and from the back of your throat. “I didn’t think men really liked that.”
“I’m going to find and kill whoever taught you that,” he promises. “There’s nothing I want more than to get my mouth on you, love.”
“Nothing?” you say, and he grins, recognizing a prompt when he hears one.
“You want me to tell you what else I’d like to do? How I’d like to have you on my cock, drag it out for as long as you can stand? I want you in my bedsheets, pretty girl, making a mess of them because I’m fucking you so good. I want you wrapped around me and holding on so tight, because that’s all you need to do. Because I’m taking care of everything, and all you need to do is take it.”
“John,” you say, shakily.
“Should I stop?”
“I—” you stammer, “I just don’t know how to respond, John. I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell me how that sounds to you,” he purrs. “Be nice to know if you like the idea.”
“…I do,” you say, “a lot, John.” 
And he has to grin at the breathless way you say it. He knows you now—he knows how hard that must have been for you to say. He’s so goddamn proud of you for saying it.
Then, you continue, tentatively, bravely. “What else…what else would you do?”
“Mm. I had some thoughts about that vibrator.”
“No!” you cry, groaning long and disconsolate as he laughs. “No, I thought I’d gotten it, oh, John…”
“It was bright pink,” he says, needling you further.
“You didn’t say anything!” you protest. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be, love. Were you thinking of me, that night?” he asks, breath shallow in his lungs. “Did you get off with that vibrator between your legs, imagining what I could be doing to you?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, John.”
“Except it wasn’t very good, was it, love?” he continues. “Because it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted me there, wanted my hands and my mouth and my cock, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you reply, and it sounds like a whine.
“You can have them,” he promises. “The moment you’re home, I’ll give you everything you want.”
You don’t respond immediately. He doesn’t think he’s pushed too far, this time; rather, he thinks with not a small amount of satisfaction, you might just be recognizing the scope of his offer. 
It’s a moment John always enjoys with potential partners—that quiet, trembling realization that yes, they can ask for anything from him, because he really will give it to them. Because they know that they can rely upon him, that they can trust him. That he wants nothing more than to be someone they can fall into, freed of worry or concern.
“I do want it, John,” you whisper into his ear. “All of it.”
Something uncoils in John’s chest. Appetite, yawning wide, swallowing your confession whole. His balls clench, hard. He wants to see the look on your face. Both when this finally happens—when you give in to him—and right now, as you’re realizing you can. 
John is not one to employ absolutes lightly; he wants to see you now more than he’s ever wanted to see anyone in his life.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, hearing a rasp in his voice. “Will you come to see me when you get home, then?”
“I—” you say, sounding breathless. “Yes. I will, John.”
“Good,” he says. “Now do something for me, pretty girl.”
“Yes,” you breathe.
“I’m going to let you get back to your evening,” he says, adjusting his hips. “And when you lay down to sleep, I want you to think about me. Think about what I’ll do for you. Because I’ll be thinking about the exact same thing.”
“Yes, John,” you say. There’s a…floaty, far-off quality to your voice. It will not take John very long at all to finish tonight.
“Did you bring your vibrator along with you?” he asks.
“No.”
“Pity,” he says. “I guess we’ll both be using our hands, then.”
“Oh.”
He laughs. “Good night, love. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Good…good night, John.”
He says goodbye again, and ends the call. He lays his phone down and sits back, staring up at the ceiling. The football game is long over, some late night talk show playing now. He turns the TV off.
He’s not sure whether it’s going to be easier now to make it through the next two days—or much, much harder.
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A/N: We're almost there.
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buckets-and-trees · 3 months
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You're such a wicked menace, Eva!
Title: Insatiable Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1845
Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.
Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)
Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.
Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.
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You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.
Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.
It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”
He was new to your life, too.
The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.
“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.
“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.
Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”
You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”
You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.
Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.
“What?”
“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.
“What’s that?”
He licked his lips.
Oh.
Your stomach flipped.
“Bucky, we can’t–”
He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”
Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.
Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.
He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.
Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.
With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.
It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.
“Bucky!”
He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.
Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.
“Please,” you begged.
“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.
Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.
He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.
“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.
But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.
When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.
He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.
The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.
It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn’t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.
But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.
You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.
He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”
You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.
Deep, slow strokes.
You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.
Full, so full.
In and out.
So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”
And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.
You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.
You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.
“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.
You laughed softly.
“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.  
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