#started on paper but it was. not great. so continued digitally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunkendreams · 5 months

Note

.........some The Lost Boys Marko smut? 🥺🤲

once bitten, twice shy (II).

( paul x fem!reader x marko )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: paul x fem!reader x marko.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested, continuation of once bitten, twice shy.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 8.2K (not sorry!)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), threesome, reader has two boyfriends, bloodplay, violence & gore, vampire antics, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving), cunnilingus, begging, public sex (on a beach), bruising, blood drinking, biting, hair-pulling, p in v sex, missionary & cowgirl, scratching, voyeurism, making out, breast-play (paul loves your tits), handjob, fingering (f!receiving), ass-grabbing, they smear blood on the reader (not sorry, it was hot), risk of getting caught, there’s probably more ngl

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: technically this is marko smut with a big ol’ side of paul, so ,,,, I am not sorry for this being absolutely filthy, I wish it was filthier tbh :(( anyway, I hope you all have a great holiday and enjoy! there’s so much more content to come!

TAGLIST: @darklylucid ; @freyjasfenrir ; @drascilla ; @beskardaddy ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @chaotichellscape ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth

Dusk had steadily become your favorite time of day — you no longer lived by sunrise, anxiously awaiting nightfall. When the sun disappeared behind the oceanic horizon of Santa Carla, your excitement had always kicked in, accompanied by exhilaration. Instead, you’d become the queen of the night, lost to the shadows and abandoning daylight altogether.

Once the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, giving way to a cloudless, moonlit sky, the boys were up and active. It was like clockwork, something that you’d grown accustomed to as a human. Their circadian rhythm was vastly different, something that took you ages to sink into, even if you weren’t a vampire.

By the time you’d awoken, the cave was eerily silent, swallowed by a certain quiet that only came about when the boys were gone at the boardwalk. Admittedly, you were a little disappointed that you hadn’t seen Paul, but you knew he’d make it up to you later. He always did. You gave yourself a moment to adjust, gently rubbing at the back of your neck.

As your eyes grew accustomed to your candlelit surroundings, there was something sitting at the foot of your bed — a sundress in hues of gold and a vibrant orange, reminding you of a sunset. You rocked forward, gently pushing your sheets aside. The note attached to the bundle of fabric was written in semi-elegant script.

‘Wear this tonight.’ — M.

It was difficult to smother the giddy, excitable smile that stretched across your features as you began chewing at the inside of your cheek. Your fingers brushed across the crumpled piece of paper crudely taped to the dress, gently pulling it aside. You traced your digits over the frilly material, feeling it glide over your hand.

Marko had become your boyfriend, something that Paul was entirely comfortable with. Of course, Paul was your mate — that was a different title and meaning altogether. Even then, Marko had learned to settle; live with the idea that you and Paul were bound together by the hip and by heart. He was thankful that his brother let him in to begin with.

Like Paul, Marko had started down the path of gift-giving, finding items that reminded him of you, from a vast array of trinkets to clothing. You savored every second of it, of the doting attention and protectiveness that came with two vampires. There hadn’t been any intimacy yet aside from the instance of them helping you out while you were on your cycle.

Though, with their combined unpredictability, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

You sprang from your bed, clasping the sundress against your chest as you pictured what you would’ve looked like with it on. Paul adored it whenever you wore dresses — he had a habit for feeling you up through the material or rucking it up around your hips. You wondered what Marko would think, considering that he’d chosen it for you.

After cleaning up in your makeshift spring, you put on the dress, twirling around in it a few times, growing used to the liberating feeling of it. It was loose, with thin-strap sleeves and a ruffled bodice. You felt pretty — like any other gorgeous girl at the boardwalk.

The trek wasn’t excruciatingly long — you’d wandered the dirt path down to the shoreline countless times. Your step was spirited, giddy as you made it past Hudson’s Bluff and to the beach. Bonfires stretched across the white sand as far as the eye could see, often surrounded by surfers or partygoers.

As you stepped onto the boardwalk, your boots thudded against the rickety wood of the pier, your gait noticeably happy. You were smiling, on cloud nine — it was strange that you hadn’t found the boys just yet, but you knew that, once Paul and Marko caught wind of your scent, they wouldn’t be far behind.

The cacophony of people that traversed the boardwalk was seemingly endless — there was always a new face, someone you hadn’t seen before, or someone you’d seen a hundred times before. The distant lull of music filled the air, another concert down at the beach with plenty of cheering and crowds to accompany it.

When dusk hit Santa Carla, the boardwalk transformed from daytime hues to neon — vibrant, casting the pier in shades of an obnoxious pink and crimson. Strangers came out of the woodwork to enjoy the eclectic night life that the boardwalk had to offer, including the rancor and excitement of the nearby amusement park. There were worse things that lurked in Santa Carla.

Sometimes, it wasn’t the vampires. People were the enemy at times, not creatures of the night.

Gangs of Surf-Nazis dominated the beach by nightfall, surrounding bonfires that illuminated the shoreline. You always tried your best to keep away, a stark warning issued by David. The boys had a bitter rivalry with multiple groups, and by your association, that rivalry was extended to you.

You continued your search, weaving throughout the crowds that swarmed the pier, looking for the familiar cluster of motorcycles. It was somewhat unusual for it to take you this long — one of them would’ve found you by now. A pair of guys rushed past you, nearly knocking you over when you heard them mention a ‘beach brawl’ in-passing.

Something compelled you to follow, and you did, swiftly making your way down a set of stairs and onto the sand, finding a gathering of people piled up near one of the bonfires. You jogged over, boots kicking up dust as you waded across the soft shore, nudging through the encroaching crowd.

The boys versus Surf-Nazis — you shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Dwayne was locked in a wrestling match with one of them, clearly winning given his vampiric strength. He was the most indomitable of the group too, effortlessly slamming one of the surfers to the ground. Laddie was perched on the back of his motorcycle, shouting a string of words that sounded unintelligible to you.

Marko had already gotten his fill of fighting — the surfer he squared off against was knocked-out into the sand, nose bloodied. His attention immediately shifted to you, huddling near the fringes of the sea of onlookers.

It was Paul that caught your attention — Paul, who toyed with one of the surfers as if he were simply a plaything, all for entertainment. He dodged and skirted around him in the sand, laughing and mocking him all the way. “You’re too slow, bud!” He called out, giving him a swift kick in the chest.

You entered the fold, a mere human, dashing toward Paul without a second thought. You grabbed at his coattails, yanking the blonde backwards toward the bikes. “Paul! What is going on?” You gasped, catching his attention without a hitch. Once your scent permeated the beach, it was all over.

“Just a disagreement,” Paul mused, watching as the surfers began to retreat. His grin was that of triumph, pulling you into his side. “You’re lookin’ fine, baby. Marko’s got a good eye for that stuff.” The adrenaline rush of fighting Surf-Nazis began to settle, allowing him to give you a very sloppy kiss.

“Easy, tiger.” You mumbled, listening to his laughter as he brazenly squeezed at your ass through the dress. “Where’s Marko?” The curly-headed blonde was easy to pick out amongst a crowd given his vibrantly-colored patchwork jacket.

Another hand settled against the small of your back, soft lips pressing themselves against your jaw. “Right here,” Speak of the devil, and he appears. Marko was delighted to see you, feeling a rush of energy from fighting against the surfers, even more now that he was getting to see you in that dress. “You look perfect.” He sighed.

They were pressed snugly against you on either side — Paul on your left, Marko on your right. You were elated, happily providing them with a hand to hold as the three of you skirted down the shoreline. “You guys need to be more careful. You’re always getting into trouble when I’m asleep.” You chided, listening to Paul’s jester-like laughter.

Paul grinned, showering your sweet flesh in plenty of kisses. “That’s the fun part,” He mused, jerking his head in Marko’s direction. “We wanna have those surfer-dickwads for dinner.” His eyes glistened with an unrestrained hunger, coupled with humor. “Do you wanna come with us, baby? We won’t make you watch.”

“It’ll be an appetizer,” Marko added, flashing those rows of pearlescent teeth, which happened to nibble along the worn leather of his glove. “I haven’t eaten yet.” He mused, playfully nipping at your jawline. You tasted like a thick honey, sinking into his very bones.

“Before we get to the main course,” Paul added, letting out a rather exaggerated, theatrical snarl. His ringed hand snatched yours, spinning you around in a circle as the three of you made it toward the motorcycles. “Think Marko wants to give you a ride this time, babe.” He mused, winking at Marko as if he were playing wingman.

You had a feeling that you would be the main course, which made your stomach ripple with a rush of excitement. Anticipation crackled along your spine, accompanied with that familiar haze of desire. You hadn’t watched the boys kill and maim before — they were afraid it’d be too off-putting for you.

Marko smirked, taking you off of Paul’s hands as he hoisted you up over his shoulder. Despite being the smallest of the pack, his strength was just as impressive as that of Dwayne’s. You let out a squeal of delight, smacking at the blonde’s shoulder. “Marko!” You laughed, enjoying the ride as he escorted you to his bike.

Paul caught wind of the surfers’ trail, able to smell their pungent musk of cheap beer, saltwater, and their clothing. He revved his motorcycle, pulling up next to the both of you with a wolfish grin. “Got their trail, Marko. I say we follow.” He nodded, leaning over to give you a kiss once you were situated on the back of Marko’s bike.

With the roar of the motorcycle’s engine, Marko glanced over his shoulder, nudging your jaw with his nose. “We’re going for a ride,” He mused, flashing a grin in Paul’s direction. The two exchanged a look of understanding, intermingled with that pang of screaming hunger. “Hold on, baby.” Marko teased, mocking Paul’s constant use of the innocuous nickname.

You laughed, arms slipping around Marko’s midsection, idly fiddling with the cropped shirt he wore. His flesh was cold and smooth underneath your fingertips, musculature akin to marble. Once Paul sped off to take the lead, Marko followed suit, saluting Dwayne and David in a mocking fashion as they passed by.

The cool, evening breeze was on your side, accompanied by the saltwater draft wafting from the ocean. Marko drove fast, likely to keep up with Paul, who was swaying all across the shoreline as he tracked the scent of the Surf Nazi group. You felt like you were on top of the world, leaning in to give Marko a few sly kisses along his neck.

Santa Carla’s vibrant carnival began to disappear into the distance, the further you drove along the coast. Paul occasionally wove around, slowing to drive alongside you and Marko. He whistled at you, weaving just a little closer to make things more exciting.

The surfers had moved down toward the old fishing shack, now fashioned into a shoddy party-palace. Old beer bottles and cans were scattered around the rickety wooden half-dock at the shack sat on top of, littered in graffiti. A bonfire glistened in the distance, partially obscured by an outcropping of rock.

Once the thrill of the hunt began to settle in, basic instinct began to override logic — Paul and Marko were no better, submitting to the desire to feed above all else. Paul steered toward the rocks, parking his bike somewhere out of-sight. Marko followed suit, making sure that you were situated before nudging the kickstand out.

“Stay here, yeah?” Paul cautioned, gesturing toward the patch of soft sand. The rock provided something of a barrier — visually and physically. The last thing that either of them wanted was for you to get in the crossfire of a feeding frenzy. “It’s dinnertime, bud!” He howled, pressing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

Marko grinned, like a shark drawn to blood in the water, caressing your cheek before giving you a kiss after Paul had his turn. “We’ll be right back.” The two were wickedly fast, swift with inhuman reflexes, hopping over the rock as they made it down the incline.

There were four of them — three guys, and one girl. The girl, a redhead sporting a one-piece swimsuit, was strewn across an oversized beach-blanket, paying little to no attention to the three men drinking around the bonfire. The other three were well on their way to becoming absolutely smashed, sashaying through the sand.

Curiosity got the better of you, shuffling forward through the white sand, soft around your knees as you peered above the rock. Paul’s posture was that of a seasoned predator, mirroring Marko’s coiled stance, like two lions prepared to strike. You shouldn’t have been watching, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Paul was the first one to move, flying up and into the fray, striking at one of the surfers from the cover of darkness. You could hear the cacophony of screams, the terror and fear that permeated the air, causing goosebumps to coalesce along the length of your spine. You shuddered, unable to tear your eyes away from the brutality of the scene before you.

Marko was ripping into another man, rending flesh from bone, muscle and sinew no match for his talons and teeth. Their laughter was partially drowned out by those shrieks and cries of fright. He bit into his jugular, cruor and crimson ichor spraying violently into the night air.

You shrank down beneath the rock, able to smell that coppery twang of blood, intermingling with the salt from the ocean. The breeze was enough to carry it all away, but you could still hear struggling and scuffling in the sand, followed by the girl’s hapless screams and pleading for help.

They were strangers — you couldn’t involve yourself in their lives. Even if the sounds were garish and macabre, you would be like them soon — a vampire. This would be your eternal existence, hunting down locals by nightfall, gifted with immortality, never to die. Paul once told you that it was easier to make it all fun and games, to disassociate whenever he killed people.

To the boys, people were playthings — no singular being was above becoming a meal or toy to them, all except for you. For that, you considered yourself lucky, fortunate to have two vampires that loved you enough to keep you around and not on the chopping block.

Your heartbeat slammed against your chest, humming erratically beneath your collarbone. You decided to look again, breath catching within your throat as Paul tossed one of the now-drained corpses into the bonfire. He looked terrifying, but part of you found it to be wildly attractive.

The bloodless bodies of the surfers were being discarded, tossed into the bonfire as crackles of orange flame flickered into the starry night sky. Marko licked his lips, now full and satiated, one of the better hunts he’d had in some time — outside of you, of course.

You steeled yourself, moving out from behind the rock and toward the slope of sand, skirting downward until you reached the very bottom. Paul’s hair looked like the untamed mane of a lion, eyes still glinting with gold as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Both of them were steeped in gore, crimson splashed across their faces and bodies — clothes that they hadn’t bothered to change in years, you were sure. As you approached them, Paul grinned, leaping toward you with a sense of giddiness, wrapping you up within his arms.

“There she is,” He purred, groping at your curves through the thin material of the dress. Paul kissed your jaw, chin red with blood, not caring if he got you dirty in the process. His mouth searched for yours, lips tangling together in a feverish embrace. “Baby.” Paul’s words lowered to an alluring lull.

A gasp ripped through your throat, able to taste that sanguine twang that permeated his mouth. His body felt so solid and immovable when pressed against yours, like the unyielding form of a statue. Paul’s tongue swept against the inside of your mouth, hands greedily squeezing at your ass.

Marko stepped in behind you, caging you against his body, keeping you for himself. Warmth radiated from you in waves, but the chill of his form kept you from feeling overheated. His fangs scraped across your neck, teasing you as he soothed it all with kisses, sucking hickeys into your flesh without warning.

Your voice soon dwindled into a simpering moan, trapped between the immovable objects that were two vampires. A yelp tore past your lips when Marko’s teeth grazed across the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “H—Hey,” You protested, sighing when Paul’s hands groped at your haunches. “What if somebody sees?”

“Then we’ll just have ‘em for dinner.” Paul’s tone was animated, wrought with a roguish charm as he kissed you hard, which rocked you back into Marko. “Loosen up, babe. Let us take care of you, yeah?” His lips curled into a gregarious smirk, lips reattaching themselves to yours without an ounce of hesitation.

A cold hand began to slither underneath your dress, gathering the material within one fist. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Marko’s voice fluttered from behind you, like fire and ice, making your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You want us to make you feel good.” You hated that he was reading your mind.

Paul cackled, cerulean hues replaced with a blazing fire, pits of gold ringed in a blood-orange, like a halo. “Yeah she does.” He sneered, pressing kisses all along your jaw and neck, licking over the hickeys given to you by Marko. His hand dug into the meat of your thigh, snug enough to leave behind faint imprints. “I can smell her.” He teased.

They were both insufferable at times — able to sense your arousal through scent alone, impish smirks and scanning through your mind. It was easier to let them look, to think freely. There were plenty of things that you wanted them to do to you.

Marko coaxed you close, leading you towards the outcropping of rough stone, bathed in the glow of firelight. In the gloom of the rock, the curly-headed vampire guided you over, back against the outcropping to protect you from the jagged edges. Paul was locked in behind you, hands tangling themselves at the hem of your dress.

“I’d rip it off, but you look beautiful in it,” Marko purred, watching as you preened underneath his praise, hazel hues flickering ravenously across your body. Goosebumps coalesced from the nape of your neck to your spine, excitement panging to the apex of your thighs. “Come here.”

His command was softly-spoken, but you knew better than to defy him. Marko was beautiful — angelic, like some cherub on the ceiling of a Renaissance painting, but beneath the heavenly facade, he was a little demon. You stepped closer, feeling his hands run across your curves, lips crashing into yours.

It was an explosive kiss, wrought with an edge of pent-up aggression and lust. His hand cupped your jaw, pressing into the side of your neck as the other gripped your hip. You moaned into Marko’s mouth, feeling Paul’s ring-adorned digits begin to yank your panties down, erection pressed into the swell of your ass.

Paul made short work of your panties, ripping them somewhere along the way, fabric torn asunder as he nudged a knee in between your thighs. His mouth languidly pressed across your neck and shoulders, licking at your sweet flesh as if it were blood. “Fuck, baby,” He growled, reaching around to push his hand between your legs. “What’s all this?”

It was difficult to ignore his playful, cajoling tone of voice as his fingers grazed over your cunt, swiping at the oozing warmth present. His rings were like the bitter sting of ice along your thighs, digits drawing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. The remains of your panties lay scattered in the sand.

You moaned, caught in Marko’s mouth as he kissed you again and again — all tongue, teeth, and desire. Your palms clamored toward his cropped shirt, dragging your nails across the taut plane of his muscled abdomen. “P—Paul,” You managed to whimper between the intense barrage of kisses. “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet, sweet thing,” Paul snickered, biting down on the sensitive skin of your neck as he began to rub two fingers back and forth along your cunt, thumb grinding against your clit. “Bet you taste even better.” He laughed, smacking a palm against the pliant flesh of your ass, chin perched atop your shoulder.

Marko grinned, eyes devious and full of mirth as he hastily shoved his hand between your thighs, having to smack Paul’s hand away in order to touch you. Your whimpers and moans were like music — saccharine, strung-out with bliss. He placed two fingers into his mouth, sucking away your juices.

“You’re right, Paul. She always tastes good,” Marko mused, chin still stained with crimson. The front of his chest was unceremoniously splashed with spatters of cruor, and he swiped at it with his palm, smearing it across your chest. “You mind, beautiful?”

Having the blood of a stranger painted across your flesh might’ve been unnerving if it wasn’t for the context of your situation. You immediately shook your head, feeling Marko’s dexterous digits unhook your brassiere, and his mouth was on your collarbone before you could get another word out.

Marko lapped at the sanguine ichor that stained your skin, tongue tracing all over your chest. Normally, that would’ve been Paul’s preferred spot, but he was busy grinding his cock against your ass, ring-clad fingers beginning to bury themselves into your tight cunt. He started off slow, letting you adjust as he circled your clit.

Your fingers grasped at Marko’s curly tresses, scraping your digits through his golden mane as you tugged and pulled. His lips traveled towards your breasts, mouth trapping a nipple between his teeth as he kissed and sucked at the sensitive mound. Paul’s hand was relentless, pistoning his fingers in and out of your cunt.

The scent of copper, decay, and stale cologne stung your nostrils — you’d grown more accustomed to the smell of vampires, but sometimes, it was a little jarring. Paul attempted to conceal it with too much stale cologne, and Marko simply smelled like blood — no getting around it.

“Marko,” You whined, nails digging into his scalp as you attempted to stay upright. Paul was right there to steady you, massaging at your hip as he continued to caress your clit. Marko’s sharp teeth nipped and bit at your sternum, leaving behind a rather unsightly trail of bruised bite marks — his love bites. “Wanna touch you.”

“Don’t be shy,” Marko crooned, guiding your hands toward his waist, right to the leather-studded belt buckle. He showered you in kisses, some far more intense and overwhelming than the others. “We’re all yours.” He leaned back against the rock, letting you use him as your perch — you’d definitely need it.

Paul snickered, laughter akin to the heckling of a hyena as he sank down onto his knees, hands grabbing at your haunches. He had a picturesque idea of what he wanted, neck and chest still smeared in now-dried blood. With a shrug, Paul shed his overcoat into the sand, following the scent of your arousal like a bloodhound.

“Don’t mind me, babe,” Paul mused, wedging himself between your legs, tongue greedily lapping at your slit. “I’m gonna help myself.” Another snarl escaped him as he bit at your inner thigh. You felt awkward, contorted into a strange position as Paul began to eat you out from behind — not that you were about to complain.

Your body felt as if it were burning, being consumed by a flame called desire as it crackled along your flesh, sparking at every nerve ending. You moaned, letting out a wanton cry as Paul’s hands encircled either side of your hips, rings leaving behind indents as his mouth went to work. His tongue split past, right to your weeping cunt, tugging you wherever he pleased.

It was difficult to focus, your motions feeling jagged and robotic as you pried Marko’s belt off to the best of your ability. “Paul’s got you feeling dumb, doesn’t he?” Marko purred, clutching your wrists between his hands, leaning forward to kiss you again. It stole the very air from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

With a whine, you nodded — fortunately, Marko had a rather ingenious idea. Those blood-orange hues ensnared your eyes, hypnotizing you for just a moment. It had gotten you to concentrate, your thoughts no longer safe, nor were they yours. “M—Marko,” You stammered, listening to his fiendish laughter as he stroked your chin. “What was that?”

“Something to help you focus.” He mused, feeling your silken palm wrap around the length of his cock. A growl rippled throughout his throat as you began to stroke him off, aided by his bout of hypnosis. It wasn’t exactly fair, but it certainly got you to compose yourself. It was threadbare, a weaker hold — you were still a mess.

Paul lapped at your cunt as if he were ravenous, a man starved, happy to suck at your clit. He was grinning, attempting to steady you as your poor, feeble legs quivered around him. It didn’t slow him down in the slightest, tongue flicking along your slit.

Marko’s lips returned to yours, grunts muffled through the heated entanglement of saliva and tongues. You whimpered, pumping your hand along his cock, stroking the pad of your thumb across the swollen head, collecting pearls of precum in the process.

Entranced, Marko kept you ensnared, feeling your body convulse and shiver from the pleasure. You looked tortured in the best way possible, mouth parted, moaning and babbling strings of incoherent words. You wanted to collapse, and neither of them had even fucked you yet.

“Don’t make her head melt, Marko. We aren’t to the best part yet.” Paul reminded his brother from between your legs, licking his lips as if he’d had one of the best meals in his eternal lifetime. His cock throbbed within the tight material of his jeans, desperate to be inside of you. He kissed and nipped at your thighs, returning to your sweet cunt once more.

Hypnosis was always a dangerous slope — do it too much, and you run the risk of making someone a mindless husk. Marko smirked, kissing you again and again, hands sliding all along your body as you continued to stroke his cock. Your sounds were heavenly, trembling and high-pitched as he grabbed at the base of your skull.

Paul was messy, greedily lapping at your slick, tongue occasionally circling around your clit. You were shaking like a leaf, all wrought with ecstasy, pleasure blistering all throughout your body. Another hapless whimper escaped you, consumed by Marko’s kiss, his hand squeezing at the base of your throat.

You withdrew from Marko, still connected by a glistening tendril of saliva, your lips puffy and swollen. You quivered, trying to keep yourself semi-composed as Paul devoured your cunt. “P—Paul!” You squeaked, feeling yourself begin to approach your climax.

“You’re hogging her, Paul,” Marko quipped, brows furrowing together. “I want a taste.” His tone was somewhat agitated, though not at you — never at you. The curly-headed vampire gave you another kiss once Paul finally emerged from between your legs, grinning like a wolf.

“Knock yourself out, bud.” Paul chortled, catching you as you slumped back against him, back snugly pressed into his broad chest. He immediately went about kissing you, licking over the numerous bite marks caused by Marko, hands kneading into your breasts. “You smell so good, baby.” He purred, nibbling along your earlobe.

Marko dropped to his knees, abandoning his patchwork jacket — unusual for him, but a blessing for you. One of your hands immediately grasped at his mop of golden tresses, traveling toward the sinewy muscle of his back and shoulders. With strong hands, he spread you open, tongue splitting past, right to your cunt.

Paul rocked himself against you, erection pressed around the soft curve of your backside. His mouth was voracious, licking and kissing every inch of your perfect flesh, gently sucking hickeys into your shoulder if he could. He playfully pinched and massaged at your tits, chest rumbling with laughter when you moaned.

The ravenous vampire whose face was buried between your thighs let out a sonorous grunt, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. He was relentless, never letting up, never allowing you to have a true moment of peace. Marko was notoriously greedy; covetous when it came to you.

“Where do you want us to fuck you at, babe?” Paul asked, pressing a string of kisses along your back, hands groping and grabbing at your breasts. He was captivated by your pliant chest, continuing to twist and tug at your nipples — it was a torturous form of pleasure. “Right here, in the sand, or maybe back home?”

You could feel Marko’s grin against your inner thigh, tangible and impish, like a brand etched into your skin. He lapped at your cunt again, savoring your taste upon his tongue. “Right here,” Marko piped up, nipping at your legs with devilish laughter. “We have all night.” Your head was bobbing up and down in agreement.

A shudder rolled down your spine, feeling Paul’s hand guide your chin back, mouth hotly connecting to yours in a sloppy kiss. You could taste blood, yourself, the faintest twang of marijuana on his lips. The kiss made you moan, dizzy and delirious from the pleasure you were experiencing.

“There’s a perfectly good blanket,” Marko licked his lips, noticing the blanket left behind by the redhead they’d killed earlier. “Unless you want the ground.” That was certainly food for thought — fucking you right into the dirt and sand like a wild animal.

Maybe he’d take you out to Hudson’s Bluff one night just for that purpose.

Paul’s mild disdain for putting you on the ground was noticeable. “Nah, she deserves something nice to lay on,” He smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened with desire. “When we fuck her senseless.” With a brief snort of laughter, he squeezed your chin, kissing you again.

You let out another whine, on the precipice of cumming, but Marko was tormenting you, the little demon. “M—Marko, please.” Your stomach felt like a pool of liquid, churning violently as you rubbed your glistening thighs together. “I wanna cum, please keep going!” Your urging came in the form of tugging his hair, but he simply sat there, lips curling into a grin.

“You wanna cum?” Marko inquired, gazing up at you from between your legs, hues shifting to that familiar blaze of burnished gold, countenance akin to that of the Cheshire Cat. When you nodded several times over, he snickered, pressing teasing kisses along your thighs. “I’ll help you out, dolcezza.”

Paul didn’t stop his brother, releasing you from his grasp as Marko flew towards that blanket, bearing now-dried bloodstains on one of the corners. Fortunately, it was protected from the sand, but that didn’t seem to matter much when Marko was crawling on top of you, hungry and lustful.

The taller vampire simply dragged one of the beach chairs over, mane wild and disheveled, chest smeared in crimson as he plucked a pair of sunglasses off of the ground. Must’ve been on one of the heads of the men they’d slaughtered. Paul put them on, lounging in the rickety, woven chair, legs casually spread apart.

“Don’t get too excited, Marko. She knows who she belongs to.” Paul snickered, watching you romp around with his brother atop the blanket. He wasn’t jealous — just impatient, wanting to have his way with you so very terribly. “Be careful with her, too.” He added, not wanting Marko to get too carried away.

Marko had a horrible habit of killing those he slept with. It wasn’t out of malice — just hunger and adrenaline, the thrill of the hunt.

“Piss off, Paul.” Marko growled, knowing not to defy any rules or expectations. He kissed you hard, cock rutting against your slick inner thighs, feeling your hands haplessly grab at his hair. You felt like silk underneath him, warm and feverish as you rocked your hips forward.

Marko’s bloodied body molded itself to yours as he ran the head of his cock against your slick slit, causing you to moan and whimper. “Marko, please!” You whined, desperate for a release of any kind, nearly thanking him when he finally pushed himself into your tight cunt. Paul could be gentle — Marko wasn’t in the slightest.

His initial thrusts were erratic and experimental, not soft or coddling. Marko wanted to find a rhythm that worked for him, and not you. Roughness and brutality were the only ways he knew how, evident in the way he began to move into you. His cock slammed away at your sensitive cunt, feeling you clench and shake around him.

Your hands clamored toward his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he rutted into you, rhythm unyielding and quite rough. You didn’t mind, desperate for the friction, leaving behind indents in his flesh. Marko huffed, biting at your collarbone as he moved his hips forward with the strength of a battering ram.

His cock pounded away at your poor cunt, feeling it clench and throb around his length. Marko murmured something in Italian, teeth raking across your fragile skin, nipping just above your breast as he rocked forward. He was unusually silent, focused on filling you up, fucking you with an animalistic fervor.

Paul was observing — partially for your own safety, the other for his own enjoyment. He cocked his head to one side, watching the way your body trembled with ecstasy, nails raking down Marko’s back as you scratched at his musculature. He adjusted himself within the chair, gripping the arm so hard that it began to splinter.

Marko growled, mouth traveling from your collarbone to the column of your throat, lips gingerly pressing against your jugular. It was a stark juxtaposition to the vicious rutting you were receiving from the hands of the smaller vampire. You were a mess, legs rattling like a leaf as he squeezed at your hip.

“Marko!” You cried out, back arching off of the blanket, nails clinging onto him, hard enough to draw blood. Marko smirked, leaning up enough to grab at your thigh, forcing your legs apart as he fucked you. “M’close!” You huffed, arousal from before carrying over into this.

Your heartbeat was erratic, pounding away just underneath your breastbone, enough to catch the attention of two very riled-up vampires. Marko’s growl reverberated next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine, hips attempting to grind against him. “You feel perfect,” He murmured, kissing your jaw. “My thrall.”

Pleasure rippled throughout your body, sinking into the pit of your stomach, digits threatening to rip Marko to shreds. An impossible feat, but it certainly conveyed your heightened level of desire. “Please, please,” You panted, feeling his cock hit a certain point of depth, rutting back and forth as he lured you into an orgasm. “Marko!”

Being the devil incarnate, Marko fucked you through your orgasm, making your head spin with a euphoric sensation. You moaned, body unable to fully keep up with his brutal pace, shuddering when he rutted into your cunt even still. “Just a little more,” He purred, lapping at the pearls of blood left behind from the bite on your collarbone. “You can handle it.”

Jesus — you were on fire.

Marko was fucking you as if it would be his very last rut, cock slapping away at your cunt. You were quivering from both excitement and from a post-orgasmic haze, stomach churning and rippling with a delightful pleasure. You still held onto him, letting him screw you through your climax, not that you cared. The pleasure made your head go fuzzy, as if you were floating.

Paul frowned, prepared to smack Marko away from you if needed. “You got two minutes, bud. Don’t break my girl,” He uttered. Even if Paul’s demeanor was normally lighthearted and spirited, he could become vicious and downright unhinged. When it came to you, he was rather overzealous at times. “Easy.”

Marko was somewhat ignoring Paul, but still adhered to the side of caution for his sake and for yours. He’d get another opportunity — alone, hopefully. The curly-headed leech continued to fuck you, capturing your mouth in another passionate kiss before he came, pulling out halfway through, painting your stomach with thin ropes of his seed.

You whimpered, feeling messy and sticky, skin heated with a fine layer of perspiration. Marko snickered, biting at the corner of his thumb as he admired you, coated in his cum. It was a mental picture to keep of you as he gave you another kiss. “Good girl.” He sighed, feeling Paul give him a brusque shove.

“My turn,” Paul crooned, deciding that he’d be gentle with you this time around. Marko had clearly fucked your brains out, given the blissed-out expression on your face. “Looks like you did a number on her.” He mused, flinging off the mesh top he wore as he slipped beside you, peppering your face in kisses.

“Paul.” You sighed, soothed by your boyfriend’s sweet, tender kisses. You loved Marko — you loved how feral and unrestrained he was, but you needed something a little more gentle if you were to last another round. They sometimes forgot that you were still human.

Marko grinned, unceremoniously depositing himself into the chair Paul was in moments prior. He liked watching you just as much as he enjoyed participating. Partaking was one thing, but observing helped him study you — what made you tick?

“You got another one in you, babe? I’ll let you get on top. You can give Marko a little show,” He guffawed, settling atop the blanket as you climbed on top of him yourself. Your legs were shaking, sure, but you knew that Paul intended to take it easy on you. “Fuck, you got such a gorgeous body.” Paul groaned, ring-clad hands caressing all over your physique.

Your head began to move, rolling up and down in a lazy nod. “Just one more.” You had the feeling that, by the time this was over, they’d have to carry you back to the cave. Nonetheless, your fingers worked away at Paul’s belt, pushing the snug, white fabric down enough to free his cock. His hardened length oozed with precum, desperate to be inside of you.

Paul kept one hand on your hip to steady you, guiding you up enough until the crown of his cock prodded against your entrance. He let you take your time, feeling you lower yourself, tight cunt swallowing his length, inch by inch, almost painfully sluggish.

One of Paul’s hands skirted upward to massage and caress at your breast, the other guiding you up and down along his cock, keeping a slower pace. “You feel divine,” Paul groaned, your warm palms dancing across the plane of his chest, one hand reaching for his throat. Your digits tensed around his neck, applying a sensible amount of pressure. “You know just what I like.” He purred.

Basking in the crackling glow of the bonfire’s light, Marko admired the myriad of bite marks and hickeys he’d left all along your body. You met his gaze, almost shrinking away until his lips twitched into more of a half-smile instead of a sardonic smirk. A passionate sigh escaped you as Paul lulled you into a more leisurely pace.

The sluggish, deliberate speed of your hips was a much-needed respite from Marko’s near-obliteration of your body moments prior. Paul was more than happy to do most of the work, strong enough to roll you up and down along his cock.

Paul could be unhinged and rough like Marko, but more often than not, he didn’t want to destroy you. He preferred to draw it all out, if he could. Your legs quivered as you let out a soft moan, squeezing at his throat as he let you enjoy the ride. He sat up, enough to get his mouth around your tits again — his favorite.

“Paul,” You moaned, head rolling backwards as Paul’s lips greedily sucked and kissed at your breasts, savoring the silken texture of your chest underneath his tongue. Your hands grabbed at his disheveled tresses in fistfuls, moving your hips with the steady rhythm he provided. “You feel so good.” You sighed.

His cock hit new depths, beginning to lightly push against that spot, opening up a new wave of pleasure. Even then, he kept a gentle speed, not wanting to overwhelm or harm you. With Marko and him combined, you likely wouldn’t be walking around very much. Paul loved your chest, face buried against your breasts instead.

A saltwater breeze fluttered across the shoreline, raking across the perspiration that had dewed up along your back. You shivered, hand gripping into Paul’s broad shoulder as he continued to rut into you, pace still rather tame. “Baby, I’m gettin’ close,” He growled, showering your unattended breast in a flurry of kisses and kitten-licks. “Fuck.” He hissed.

You coaxed him in for a kiss, tasting that amalgamation of blood, marijuana, and a faint wisp of smoke. Paul kissed you with a reverence that transcended a simple relationship — it was the embrace that only a mate could provide. He groaned into your mouth, muscles of his neck flexing underneath your palm.

Marko watched, enthralled by you — his adoration for you had climbed to new heights, your scent buried within his mind, smeared across his body. Of course, it would’ve been better if you smelled like him, marked as something that belonged to him. He chewed at his thumb, dark gaze glued to you, burnished gold dissipating into hazel-greens.

You didn’t care if you came again, simply basking in the attention from your partners. Marko’s stare bored into you, tearing into your thoughts, enough for you to open your eyes and look at him. You bristled underneath his silent appraisal of you, able to detect the overflow of desire and want in his eyes.

Paul bit at your lower lip, effectively tearing your attention away from Marko. His kiss was blissful, blossoming into something passionate and sloppy — it was so very Paul. His lips curled into a grin, palpable and pressed into your mouth, which you happily reciprocated. His hand snaked in between the both of you, thumb circling around your clit as he bucked up into you.

“You’re my sweet little mate,” His voice emerged as a tantalizing purr, teeth grazing along the column of your throat. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Paul groaned, making your head spin from the compliments. A string of expletives escaped him — breathy, soft ‘fucks’ muttered from the mouth of your very aroused boyfriend.

A moan tore past your lips as he swallowed it whole, cock beginning to throb as he came inside of your tight cunt. He didn’t bother to pull out this time, stuffing you to the brim with his cum, tongue swiping at the inside of your mouth. Ripples of pleasure fluttered across your body as he attentively played with your clit.

His ecstasy was enough for you as warmth pooled between your legs, but you were most definitely spent. Paul huffed, smirking like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “It’s like your body was made for me or somethin’, just sucking me right in.” He teased, peppering your hot flesh in strings of kisses.

“Paul,” You mumbled, nose wrinkling slightly. Everything felt so heavy, but you were determined to keep yourself afloat until you made it back to the cave. “Love you.” You whispered, giving him a sweet kiss as you pulled yourself off of him. It was a mess of his cum and yours that painted the inside of your thighs.

“I love you more, baby.” Paul cooed, squeezing your chin as he continued to pamper you in a barrage of kisses. It wasn’t difficult to notice the little sting of yearning in Marko’s eyes — but Paul understood it all more than anything else. You could love both of them.

Marko had collected your clothing from along the shoreline, clutching your torn panties in his hand. “Think I’ll keep this as a trophy.” He smirked, noticing the way you became absolutely flustered. It was hard not to laugh at your reaction, and the curly-headed vampire pressed another kiss against your jaw.

Paul went about kicking a half-eaten arm back into the bonfire, retrieving the sunglasses he’d snatched off of a corpse. He retrieved some of his clothes, draping his tuxedo coat over your shoulders once you’d put your dress back on. Your undergarments were in a state of complete and utter obliteration.

“When will you both stop destroying my clothes?” You sighed, reluctantly climbing onto the back of Marko’s bike as the three of you prepared for the short ride back to the cave.

“As soon as you stop dressin’ up all pretty for us, sweet thing.” Paul snickered, revving the engine of his motorcycle as he took off into the night. He was howling — likely the post-sex and post-hunt excitement beginning to kick in.

Marko was right on his heels, leaning back into you when your arms wrapped around him. He seemed somewhat docile again, having released his bloodthirst and desire to fuck all in one go — the preferred method, really. You pressed yourself against him, chin perched atop his shoulder.

“Hey,” You mumbled, voice a softer hum, close to his ear. Marko was listening, wanting to drown himself in the sound of your sweet voice. “You know that I love you too, yeah?” Your hands gently traced around his abdomen, feeling his cold musculature underneath your fingertips.

That familiar smirk of his made your stomach do flips as he pressed a chaste kiss against your jaw. Marko wanted to hear you say it — but it was just as palpable within your thoughts, and that was more than enough for him.

“I love you more.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #marko tlb x you #marko tlb x reader #paul tlb x you #paul tlb x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher x y/n #slasher fandom #the lost boys 1987

373 notes · View notes

eldritch-spouse · 9 months

Text

[☆There's a poll in this one☆]

(You wake up slowly. Too slowly. Something's not right. Your skin has erupted in goosebumps, and rasped breathing can be heard from above as your shoulders are grabbed.)

" Ah, don't- Don't try to sit yet, you'll get dizzy. "

(Although you swear you recognize that tone by now, it's still cause for alarm, since you're pretty sure you were well alone when you went to bed.)

(Finally, your eyes peek open, and you recoil slightly.)

" It's me. Surprise. "

(He looks mildly guilty. He's also too close for your tastes. Even at this proximity, his face continues to be a mostly unknowable void. Is it that he's pitch black, or is Hudsyn genuinely a shadow adorned in robes?)

" Before you say anything, I had planned to do this later, a few couple of days later actually, but eheh- It turns out I don't have that privilege. It won't be as organized as I was hoping, but history doesn't wait for you to prepare, does it? "

(Hudd looks at you with significant mania. An uncomfortable -For you- Pause unfurls.)

" Mentee, the time has come! "

(Your confused grimace has Hudsyn frowning in turn, until realization seems to hit the monster.)

" Remember, a couple weeks ago, when you agreed to help me? "

(As your eyes widen in an epiphany, so do his.)

" Yes, that's right, exactly! "

" See, I haven't just been lazing around this whole time- I've been working towards something special! Very special. "

" Something only someone like you can get... That's why this all took so long. I needed to wait for you. I needed to find you. "

(There's a moment where it seems as if Hudd is searching for something in your face. A reply, a reflection.)

(He gives up, taking a few, much appreciated steps back from you. While your vision clears you can finally start to study the space around you.)

(You're in a living room, it can only be that. It's surprisingly well-kept, cozy even... Is this his home? It must be early, enough so that the light coming from the window illuminates a great portion of the room easily. You spot scribbled notes on the wall and the darkness creeping from the far right, swallowing even that rickety lamp.)

" Well well, you're looking at me so oddly. Is it truly that hard to believe that I have living standards? "

(You opt not to answer that.)

(The demonoid helps you stand up. You feel something soft about his touch, but it's chaste in nature. When you're steady, he walks off-sight for a moment, presumably to another division, you hear the clicking of porcelain on claws, before Hudsyn comes back humming softly, white digits holding...)

(A fancy-looking cup filled with a clear-ish substance. It sparkles oddly, reflecting colors it shouldn't, and has a strong, alluring scent.)

" A treat, you could say... "

" I feel it is only fair. You were a kind host to me and I'm not one to forget such details. "

" Do sit. I need you to be wide awake for this, conversation will help. "

(Doing as told, you settle on the armchair opposite to the smallest couch, contemplating what to do, and what to say for that matter. There's a lot more at stake here now than there ever was compared to your previous interactions with this demonoid. He's not so harmless, is he?)

#Hudd oc #pinnie's art #demon oc #yandere demon #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #minors dni

271 notes · View notes

estro-gem · 7 months

Text

Jax x Ragatha: Eyes

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's Note:

When he looks at me... and I look at him... and he looks at me... aNd I lOoK aT hIm - I'll stop now I was meaning to write about the other characters, but these 2 were stuck in my head! Blasted!

I craved fluff, so I give fluff. This is a simple, short and sweet scenario. It might take a bit for me to write again, but we'll see how it goes. Let's hope there's no mistakes in the grammar! No warnings; other than the fact that the characters belong to Gooseworx~

Sorry if I disappear for a while, I'll try not to make it too long. Final year degree stuff...

SUMMARY:

Ragatha hand-embroiders something under Jax's merciless stare.

Please enjoy!

EYES

Watching someone repeatedly poking a needle through fabric shouldn’t be so interesting.

Ragatha decided to blame it on the obvious; Jax was stuck in a digital world where every day was a chaotic deadline with the pressure of your whole family coming for a visit this coming evening and your house was still a mess, because you didn’t have the time or energy to clean it this morning, since your cat decided to shred the last toilet paper you had in you house and you had nothing to wipe with, thus it cost you an early trip to the store, but you missed the bus and it was raining, so you ditched the store to just walk to work, only to realize that you haven’t changed out of your pajama’s yet and you had no spare clothes, forcing yourself to attend a meeting with water dripping down your legs and you clothes sticking to your body.

That was oddly specific…

The point is that everyone craved some form of normalcy. Jax was allowing himself to just exist her presence, who was caught in the slow, tedious process of embroidering a purple piece of fabric by hand. He didn’t make an effort to keep a conversation going, but the ragdoll wasn’t bothered by it. Her hands tingled where his big eyes were fixated, watching intently.

They were situated on a two-seater couch that they randomly found back stage. It's been a while since the group first carried it out to place it off to the side, near the main area. It was rarely used, unless it was a scenario such as this one; Jax watching Ragatha embroider quietly.

At first, she thought that he was looking for an error to point out, or even just to mess with her by trying to make her self-conscious with his unblinking staring. To counter whatever she thought he had planned, she would just discard the fabric and thread, while she wasn’t too far into her progress. In doing that, this would be a practice trail to complete her embroidery project away from prying eyes in the future and she would have the satisfaction of seeing Jax’s face when he saw how unbothered she was losing her progress or messing up.

But the snarky comments never came.

That’s alright, Ragatha could work with that! He was just being patient, until she had something to show for her time and effort. Until her work was something of value to lose. It was only a matter of time before the bunny brought up his old schemes again, so in the meantime, she would just have to continue. She was actually making great progress; it was starting to really look like something.

Oh no…

Ragatha didn’t think that she would make it this far. What started as two big dilated, black pupils, evolved into two large golden eyes staring up from the purple fabric. She was currently hyper-focused on the black rim surrounding the brilliant golden sclera of the second eye, almost completing the set. It was coming on so nicely.

The doll wasn’t nearly as brave as she was before. She wanted to curse her patience with herself, with this project, with Jax being Jax...

A mysterious flush of heat and tingles dragged itself up the red-head’s face. She couldn’t understand why – she was annoyed, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even human, so the sensations, though otherworldly, was not the strangest thing to happen to her – she could take and axe to the face without so much as a squeak – but it was still puzzling her. It was making her feel lightheaded, as she suddenly became very aware of her steady calm breathing and abruptly fumbled to consciously control it. It was like she was a flustered mess that suddenly forgot how to breathe. All her well-practiced hand motions briefly paused as there was a moment of deep contemplation.

The tingling heat instantly evaporated from her face, only to flare up onto her now frozen hands, hovering closely over the embroidery.

Ragatha almost twisted her neck with how quickly she whipped her sight to Jax sitting next to her.

She was probably hallucinating, but she almost believed that she saw him lean back slightly, as if reigning himself. The bunny was comfortably sitting back with his one arm hanging over the back of the couch they shared, bending his elbow to rest his cheek on his hand. If the doll shuffles closer, he would practically have his arm draped around her shoulders, and she would be able to rest her head in the crook of his neck.

His eyes were fixed on her hands that was now folded atop one another, covering the golden orbs she spent so long on. He didn’t look bored, per say, but he did sport his usual smug, unbothered expression. If anything, he looked content, but Ragatha knew Jax better than that. She could feel that the intensity of his gaze prickling over her now heated hands meant that he was deeply invested – interested. If she felt his eyes so prominently fixed on her hands…

Was he focused on her face before?

“Ya makin’ somethin’, Dollface?” Jax asked nonchalantly, lazily trailing his gaze up to her face. He was wearing that smug grin - and the poor dolly suffered the severe rush of heat bite into her cheeks again, desperately trying to focus. She missed the fierce flash in Jax’s eyes as she tried to keep her darn breathing steady; not quite able to just let it manifest naturally anymore – too slow, then too fast… then too slow…

“You tell me.” She bit back without thinking, “You’ve been staring this whole time.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes!” Ragatha huffed out, “What? Are you waiting for me to mess it up?”

“Only you could mess this one up.” Jax mused through his Cheshire grin, “I didn’t even touch you!”

“You didn’t have to touch me to make me- eh- nevermind!”

“To make ya what?” The sparkle in Jax’s eyes seemed to blaze into a raging fire. His eyes seemed to pin her down for a moment, before his tone suddenly shifted, "You give me too much credit, Doll."

Dangerous.

Jax felt dangerous when he was eyeing her like that. It’s a danger that Ragatha couldn’t help but get lost in, as she let out something between a huffy sigh and an incredulous cackle. Her hands were shaking. The tension was getting harder and harder to endure. When Jax was like this – when she was like this - they always ended up like gasoline on fire.

The doll would always somehow unintentionally, yet willingly tempt him by looking like his personal feast.

Jax would always somehow resist the urge to kiss her breathless.

“What exactly are ya makin, Raggs?” Jax strained his smile as he tore his gaze away from her siren-call she has for a face. Things must move along before the bunny does something he would instantly regret.

Ragatha took a few seconds to cool herself off, then followed the rabbit’s lead to look to the golden eyes she was embroidering.

“I wanted to make a plush.” She mindlessly trailed one finger along the rim of the eye, “I figured that I could embroider the face before cutting the fabric into the shapes I need. It's a bit upside down, since it'll probably by easier to stuff the plush first, but I didn't think this would turn out so well. It was meant to be a practice-run.”

“Those are my eyes.” Jax gave her a cheeky glance, “You miss me in bed or something?”

It was supposed to be a joke, but the doll decided, she had enough.

Screw it.

“I thought this would be a good alternative, yes.” Ragatha said plainly, effective shutting the rabbit up, as her voice seemed to wilt slightly, “I wouldn’t bother you as much. I know you don’t like me touching you.”

“Ragatha, I don’t like anyone touching me.” Jax turned to face her fully, tone shifted uncomfortably serious. He almost sounds upset.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. In attempt to save the situation, she kept het mouth shut. No more words.

Dolls are seen, not heard.

“Why me?” he asked, a simple question.

It only required a simple answer.

“I trust you.”

Ragatha wanted nothing more than to leave. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable; and she was convinced that Jax felt the same. She didn’t consider that she ripped his heart out of his chest by saying that.

She shouldn’t trust a snake...

Just when Ragatha got up to retreat to her room, she jolted upon feeling a desperate hand grab at the hem of her dress. She stood in place, but didn’t look at Jax. She wanted to forget that they had a conversation in the first place.

“Make me one when you are done with yours?” Jax spluttered out unplanned. There was a beat of silence, before the doll gave in to look at the bunny once again. At least he got her attention-

“Make you a plush… of yourself…?” Ragatha asked slowly, confused.

“Make me one of you.”

He had to be joking. There was no way that he would ask something like that and be serious about it, right? He would just wait for the moment she let her guard down to start laughing, right? Right?

The room just wailed in silence.

It weighed down his larger-than-life persona to dangle at his knees. Ragatha was dumbstruck as she searched his face for something wicked, only to find a troubled man stare back at her.

He was being sincere.

“Why me?” She asked, confused; a simple question.

It only required a simple answer.

“I trust you.”

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

114 notes · View notes

lettermanjack · 11 months

Text

Have some random miscellaneous 2am headcannons for II characters :] (These are humanized)

- Trophy is the most touch starved bastard you will ever meet in your entire life, though he will never admit it. Cuddles is his one weakness. Tissues was the first to figure this out by ruffling Trophy's hair once as a joke only to watch him just immediately relax in real time. It's like a damn kill switch.

- Mephone4 has the entirety of the 100 digits of π song memorized and can recite it fully. OJ frequently passes by the kitchen while cleaning up the hotel once he thinks everyone has gone to bed. He has almost had a heart attack at least 3 times now because Mephone will just randomly start reciting it when bored in the kitchen looking for snacks to steal at night. Mephone has gotten so good at sneaking around the hotel OJ almost never notices he's there until he starts reciting the damn song 💀.

- Knife can play the "Knife game" while singing the song and without cutting himself simultaneously. He can even do it with his eyes closed but Mic banned him from doing that.

- After getting his eye fucked up by a lemon that one time Pickle has developed surprisingly good reflexes. A great example of this is when he, Knife, and Mic were talking outside and a stray baseball from some game being played got hurled in Mic's direction. Pickle caught the ball with one hand literal inches before it hit Mic in the face, threw it back, then continued the conversation as if nothing happened.

- Tissues can fall asleep anywhere, and I mean fuckin anywhere. On the floor, on the couch, in a chair, at the kitchen table in the middle of breakfast. He can somehow accidentally fall asleep literally everywhere except his bed when it's actually time to sleep. Paper swears he caught him sleeping while standing up once. Trophy frequently has to carry him back to their hotel room because Cheesy is too weak to do it himself :')

That's all for noooow I go to sleep now *dies*

119 notes · View notes

messydiabolical · 2 months

Text

@dandenbo asked me for the art asks: 🎠What is a typical 'workflow' for a piece from idea to finished? It turns out to be a long answer so here's its own post, under the cut to save your dash! How I go from screenshot to painting: (This is not intended to be a 'this is how you do it!' kind of guide. I absolutely don't do an optimal route, this is just how I go about painting and what works for me! I've done a workflow for a screenshot to painting as I do a few different things but this is one I could explain somewhat coherently. My comics tend to be created pretty chaotically lol)

1) I take an ungodly amount of screenshots while playing. Also pester friends for their screenshots or stalk the group discord for interesting shots.

2) Go through all those screenshots cursing why I took so many, looking for those great moments that I want to paint. I’m particularly looking for nice poses/captivating moments, dynamic lighting or interesting expressions, and they don’t need to have all 3 as we can fix some of that in the next step. Here’s the screenshot I chose for my Keahi x Thane piece:

It was a cute, soft moment between them and I liked the highlight at the edge of their profiles. 3) Refine the screenshot. I don’t use anything fancy for this. I game on windows PC, so I open up the screenshot with windows photo editor. I crop the image, play around with saturation, exposure, contrast, just basic editing until it looks tastier. For this piece I wanted it to be hyper colourful and vibrant, leaning towards warmer tones.

4) Decide what I will change, then gather references for those changes. In this case I was fortunate that not a lot needed changing. I knew I wanted to move Thane’s eye position to looking at Keahi rather than the way he is slightly off focus, do a more realistic ear with earrings for Keahi, make Thane a little more smiley and lower his eyelid and give Keahi nicer eyelashes. I keep a whole bunch of art guides and tutorials on my PC so I grabbed the necessary ones and sent them to my ipad ready to have on hand for the sketch stage. I have Thane’s character model in XNApose, so I can check things like his eyelid specifically in that (this is actually for a different project but shows you what I mean)

If I was going to change up the lighting/shading I would also gather references for that. For example sometimes i’ll take screenshots of lighting schemes I love from films/tv shows (think the strong teal and orange scheme in Mad Max or the neons of Blade Runner). Or for precise shadows, I can again use XNApose. I also have a little 3d printed Thane head I can shine a torch at and take photos of to get shadow ideas. For humans there’s lots of reference to be found with online searches, I find pinterest more useful than google for this. For specific expressions or body parts, i’ll just take photos of myself (hand poses, smiling from the right angle etc.) My camera roll is an interesting place. I have drawn drell frills on my neck and on my chest before to see how the lines would fold at certain angles. 5) Setting up a canvas I work in procreate. For a piece like this I try to go pretty big, say 5000 x 4000 pixels, then i’ll crop down later as needed. 300 DPI. As I work, I’ll make duplicates and continue on the copy each fresh session. When i’m finished I make a backup save of the PNG and .procreate files on an SSD. I immediately turn the background colour down to a more muted colour to not burn my retinas. If i’m using a textured background like an oil board i’ll insert it, and any overlays like canvas effects. Set up my layers from the start basically for easy toggling throughout. I try to be good and label things to make life easier, it doesn’t always happen though. I don't wear a digital glove or use paper effect screens but I do have a bottle of screen cleaner and a microfibre cloth handy at all times. 6) Sketch. I’m still very much learning to draw. I tried for a long time to do the classic ‘ball for a head, draw the planes/lines etc. It was a constant struggle and never clicked for me, the ball especially always made things much worse, turning a circle into a 3d image in my head just does not happen. I find it better to just start drawing and work things out as I go (I use procreates reference window to see my screenshot). So I’ll have my sketch in one canvas, and i’ll also have a second canvas with the photo ref on it at the same size, and if I feel like something is really wonky and off i’ll test my lines over the photo to see what’s gone wrong, then go back to the sketch and correct the areas that revealed. Sometimes I’ll use the grid feature if i’m getting stuck. Here's a few of the sketch stages:

Here I tried out the lines on the photo and noticed that Thane’s frills were a little too far to the left, and Keahi’s eyebrow needed to arch down towards the nose.In the next pass I correct these:

Also, and I know i’m gonna get side eye from some people for this but I really could not care less to be honest. On some pieces i’ll just trace the screenshot. Sometime I just want to get to painting, am not in the mood or mindspace for a learning experience, and this is a hobby. It’s my screenshot, no one is getting ripped off. My latest Javik piece was done this way 🤷‍♂️ 6) Painting. I’ll start by blocking in the background and the portrait flats, usually on separate layers. I try to have an idea of the background colour from the start as this can effect the whole piece overall, but sometimes you just gotta change it as you go so having it on a different layer makes this much easier.

The painting itself I’ll lay down wider areas of colours, then start going in and refining bit by bit, I tend to work on one area at a time, and sometimes I’ll get pretty well rendered on a small area before moving on, other times work on a wider area. It really depends on my mood and what i’m vibing with that day. Like you can see here I’ve done some general messy colouring all over Keahi, but done a lot of refinement on the eyeball:

7) Finshing the piece, uploading and testing: When I’m sick of rendering the painting and don’t think I can add anything more to it without gnawing my own wrist off, it is time to finish up! I make sure I toggle all the layers I want on, add a top signature layer (lol I lie I forget this all the damn time). Then i’ll upload the piece to my google drive and open it up on my big 4k monitor on my PC, and on my phone, and see how it looks (my ipad is a 9.7inch air). I find that once off my ipad, it often looks a little less saturated and contrasting as it does in procreate. So I might go back and change the levels if it’s too big a difference until it looks decent across devices (it’ll never look perfect on them all though, just gotta find that happy medium).

8) Posting online I really don’t have any strict steps for this. I know some people go for optimal posting times, and will make multiple copies of their pieces in different sizes to fit better on different sites (damn you instagram and your need for everything to be square). I… do not do any of this lol. I post when I’m done whatever time or day that is. I do tend to reblog/retweet etc before I go to bed, as I live in the UK and that will at least be getting into evening time in US. I reblog my own stuff a fair bit.

#md answers #art asks

15 notes · View notes

star-vessel1237 · 1 year

Text

Gluttonous Scholar (Baalmon Yuu/MC AU)

Gender Neutral MC/Yuu (Pronouns used They/Them)

Warning: Swearing

([A/N]: I got inspired to make this AU after I read @emeraldtart‘s Digimon AU. Recommend checking them out if you're interested in their ideas. Also using some elements from the Baalmons in Ghost game and Xros wars because why not. Also I will be calling them Baal!Yuu for simplicity.)

Link to Wikimon article I’m using for most of my info. [HYPER_LINK]

In Baal!Yuu’s original world they were on a quest to gain more knowledge as they had forgotten most of their past and we're desperate for answers

Baal!Yuu eventually grew obsessed with gaining more knowledge no matter how trivial

They try to control it but because of this obsession they have mostly lived as loner for most of their life, wandering and learning from both the digital and real world

How did they get to Twisted Wonderland? They were wondering around in the real world until the black carriage ran into them and knocked them out

Next thing they know they were cramped in a coffin, breaking out of it after Grim tried to set it on fire

Grim freaks out and Baal!Yuu is just staring at them thinking he's a weird variant of Gatomon

Grim: What the, why do you look so creepy!? Augh, whatever, just hand over your robes!

Baal!Yuu: The hell do you want with my… robes… *Looks down to see that they are in ceremonial robes*

Baal!Yuu: Okay, still not the weirdest thing to happen to me. Wait, where in the world am I?

Grim: Hey, quit ignoring me!

Baal!Yuu knocks Grim away and just runs out to try and find out where they are

When they get to the library Baal!Yuu was about ready to turn Grim back into a digiegg(still thinking Grim is a Digimon) but Crowley interrupts and drags them both to the mirror chamber

Baal!Yuu follows Crowley because they quickly caught on that they are in a completely different world, possibly dimension, and they're probably going to get more answers if they just follow the man

The students are a little weirded out since Baal!Yuu is freakishly tall and the robes hide most of their body but some of them can tell that there is something inhuman about them

The Dark Mirror can sense great power from Baal!Yuu however can not determine the shape of their soul (or digicore in this case)

Grim uses the students' mass confusion to escape, Riddle and Azul are chasing him before Baal!Yuu decides to help with a “peaceful” solution

By “peaceful” solution, Baal!Yuu means shooting warning shots with their gun at Grim in order to get him to stop running and capture him

Of course no one took this lightly, Riddle acts first and yells at them to drop their gun, they quickly go silent though after it is revealed that the gun is LITERALLY attached to Baal!Yuu’s right arm

After the chaos that was the Entrance Ceremony, Crowley and Baal!Yuu were dragged to library to see if they can get them home

Spoiler: They can’t since there is no recollection of their real world or the digital world and they have to stay at Ramshackle as a temporary solution

Baal!Yuu actually takes Grim in without any trouble and seems to have, for the most part, come to peace with the ghost

Definitely not because they threatened the ghost to exercise them with the countless paper amulets they somehow still have

Everything continues as normal, until they venture into the mines and have to fight the blot monster

Baal!Yuu decides to help Deuce in attacking the monster and even gives a few pointers during it, Ace and Grim also cave in and help as well

ADeuce and Grimm also realize what the mirror said when they said Baal!Yuu had great power as they are able to multiple elements with their amulets and-

Wait where did they get the sword from?

Either way they return back to the school safe and sound

Baal!Yuu is starting to suspect that they can’t properly rely on Crowley to return them home if he already has the expelled paperwork ready

They also give a mini lesson on what a digimon is to Crowley, Braincell Duo, and Grimm about what a digimon is and how they were able to summon all that stuff using the amulets they had on hand instead of the ones that were on their coat

Also this scene happens:

Ace: Oh yeah, I don’t think we’ve seen your face this entire time.

Baal!Yuu: Right. I got so caught up in everything I forgot to remove it.

Baal!Yuu *Removes hood to show them having bluish skin, wild yellow hair covering his right eye, a glaring red left eye, half of their face being covered by their mask, and blue bandages wrapping around the top their head with a slit cut open for their third eye*

Crowley: Well… you certainly are a… unique looking character.

Grimm: Eesh, you look more creepy without the hood.

Baal!Yuu: Oh please, I know digimon who look way worse than me.

Deuce: Should, should we be concerned when you say that?

Baal!Yuu: Probably.

Unrelated Note: They get their old clothes back but can’t wear them to school because of uniform restriction

They did get away with wearing their cloak though which they are happy about

I'll write more about this AU later, hope you enjoy.

#baalmon #reapmon #twst au #yuu au #Baal!Yuu #ace trappola #twst deuce #twst ace #twst grim #grim #twst crowley #crowley #digimon #twisted wonderland

92 notes · View notes

aceofstars16 · 6 months

Text

Extra Fingers

Before I finished rewriting Trapped in the Past, I perused some old Gravity Falls fics that I wrote but never posted.

This is one of those fics! Though it's part of an AU, so I'll give a little backstory for y'all so it makes more sense haha

Half a Home is an AU that I created with @mandaloriandragontrainer back when we both first got into Gravity Falls. The basis is that Mabel and Dipper are separated at birth and Dipper is raised by Ford after his dad and grandparents die (it's a lot of angst, but also cute fluff, as in the case of this fic)

I also made some more notes about the AU/fic on the AO3 post, but you can read the fic below as well.

Ford frowned as he looked at the equation in front of him. Something was wrong with it, but he didn’t quite know what. Tapping his pen against his lip, he hummed to himself, only to laugh a little as he heard the hum mimicked a second later by the three-year-old in his lap.

“What do you think, Dipper?” Ford lowered the paper in front of his great nephew, whose frown looked scarily like his own.

“Too many…” Dipper said quietly, and Ford chuckled lightly and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Yes, I suppose this may be a little too complex for you at the moment…”

With an arm wrapped around Dipper to keep him from falling off of his lap, Ford turned his attention back to the equation. That is until he felt tiny fingers touching each of his fingers, only to stop for a few seconds, then start again.

Glancing down at Dipper, Ford saw the boy’s eyes furrowed in concentration as he touched each of Ford’s fingers again, only to stop and touch each of his own small fingers in turn.

“Six…five…Uncle Ford…did…did I lose a finger?”

A very unflattering laugh broke out from Ford's mouth before he could stop himself, shaking his head as Dipper continued to look in confusion between his fingers and Ford.

Trying to curb his amusement, Ford shook his head again. “No, Dipper, you didn’t lose a finger. I just…happen to have an extra one.” As he spoke, he wiggled his fingers and Dipper looked on with big eyes.

For a moment, there was silence as Dipper looked at Ford’s hands and then his own.

Then, “I want another finger…”

Biting his lip to keep from laughing again, Ford took Dipper’s small hand in his. “Trust me, Dipper, you have all the fingers you need. And almost anyone else you meet will have five fingers too. Besides-" Ford cut himself off before he could continue. Dipper didn’t need to know that his extra digit had caused its fair share of pain and embarrassment for him. Despite being so young, Dipper had a very keen sense of emotion, especially when it came to any time Ford mentioned his past.

“I still want another one…” Dipper said, looking at his hand as if by staring at it he could make another finger appear, which resulted in Ford chuckling more.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t do much about that…but I think it’s about time we take a break and go outside. What do you say?”

A grin broke out on Dipper’s face and he nodded quickly.

Matching his great nephew’s smile, Ford moved his arm and Dipper shot to the ground, racing to the back door.

“Wait for me!” Ford called, not even trying to hold back a laugh. It was crazy to think that it had almost been a year since Dipper had come into his life. He had to admit, there were still days when he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Academic knowledge wasn’t exactly in the same field as raising a kid. But every time he felt in over his head, Dipper would grin, or laugh, or look at Ford with the biggest eyes and the fear eased. It had been so long since he'd had family that actually cared about him for more than just his brains and accomplishments, not since… Shaking his head, Ford pushed the thought away. He couldn’t think about his brother. Because if he did, he would fall into a hole that was nearly impossible to get out of…but as he watched Dipper rushing towards the tree line, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, one person might be able to help him out of that hole.

#half a home au #gravity falls au #gravity falls #dipper pines #ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #aceo writes things #half a home

8 notes · View notes

thewritingginger · 2 years

Text

Welcome to my 7 Days of Kinktober, Lovelies!!!

I had to start off with my bb Seraphim obvi.

Heres to a hopefully good start to Kinktober :D!

Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: Human! Seraphim x Fem! Secretary Reader Word count: 2.6k+ words Warnings: 18+, Modern AU, Unequal power dynamic, Boss/Secretary relationship, Dirty talk, Vaginal fingering, Cock warming, Office sex, Quiet sex, Slight exhibitionism, Pet names, Slight degrading, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Teeny tiny bit of aftercare if you squint, Slight Possessiveness

Enjoy ~

You’ve been working for Seraphim for about six months now and the job is really nice. The pay is great, it’s pretty close to your apartment and the benefits are phenomenal.

Especially the sex.

You applied to this job with pure intent -really- but you’d be lying if you didn’t take into consideration the fact that your boss is smoking hot and that you wouldn’t mind looking at him everyday when weighing your options.

The first couple months were innocent and your secretary job was performed just as descripted. However, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that your new boss had an eye for you as well.

Opening doors for you, the purposeful brush of his fingers when handing him papers, him offering to buy you lunch and to sit with him at least once a week if he’s not busy, and most of all, the way his eyes always seemed to find you or lock with yours when peering through the window looking into his office.

The new dynamic between you took a more erotic turn on the night of a particularly rambunctious office party where you ended up drunkenly laid out on top of his desk and later in his bed at his luxurious pent house.

~~~

“Come in.” Says the low voice on the other side of the door. Opening the door leading into Seraphims office, a stack of paper work in hand, you walk in. Placing the stack on the edge of his desk you then go through the motions of preparing for his upcoming phone meeting; closing the window shutters that face the rest of the office, making him a fresh cup of coffee and, on this particular day, removing your panties.

Reclinded in his plush leather desk chair Seraphim watches as you pull your red panties -his favorite color- out from under your suit-skirt then handing them over. With your eyes locked, he presses the lacy fabric to his nose and inhales your scent. A low approving hum vibrates his chest before tucking the garment into his suit pocket like a naughty handkerchief.

“My meeting isn’t for another five minutes, so we’ve got time to play before we have to be quiet.” He says, a devilish smile painted across his face. Running his palms up your thighs he bunches your skirt around your waist, exposing the triangle of your naked sex.

Tapping between your feet with his, he urges you to spread your legs so he can slide his rough fingers between your folds. Gathering your slick, he is pleased to feel how wet you are for him. With one hand resting on your hip, his other continues its task of spreading your wetness between your lower lips pulling a soft whimper from your lips.

“Already so wet for me. You always soak your panties when you walk into your boss's office?” His voice is low and seductive. Your response consists of a soft moan and a nod of your head, your lower lip is trapped between your teeth in an attempt to suppress your voice.

His fingertips tease your entrance, rubbing slow circles along the rim of your weeping hole before fully pushing a thick digit in. A relieved sigh falls from your slacked jaw, your doe eyes glued to his lustful ones.

“Hmm, you’re squeezing me so tightly and I’ve only put in my finger. You need to be filled that badly?”

“Yes.” A airy whimper follows your response when a second finger is added. His digits curl inside you, making it increasingly hard to keep your moans to a minimum. Your eyes unconsciously dart to the shuttered window and locked door before Seraphim’s large hand grips your chin.

“Eyes on me, Beautiful. You know the rules; as long as I’m inside you those pretty eyes don’t leave me.” He says firmly, making you nod obediently.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the thrill of fucking the boss, especially in his office. The thought that anyone could walk in if the door was left unlocked or were to hear you if a particularly loud moan escaped sent a shiver down your spine.

There is something exhilarating about being spread out on your boss’s desk, whether bent over for his cock to bully into your tight pussy or open wide for him to consume every morsel between your legs with his hot tongue -either way Seraphim was a very demanding boss and you just so happen to be an employee that will go the extra mile to satisfy your employer.

“Listen to how your greedly pussy sucks my fingers in.” He says, bringing you back to reality. The debaucherous sound of his long fingers moving inside you mingles in the air with your light panting and quiet whimpers. “Do you like having your Boss’s fingers inside you?”

“Yes, Sir. I need more.” You say, your voice tight with desire. He smiles wickedly.

“Such a demanding little bird.” His tsks in mock disappointment. “But considering the time restraints I’ll allow it this one time.”

Pulling his fingers from your hungry sheath he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he brings his sullied fingers to his lips and sucks them clean. Your knees buckle as you whine in need, licking your lips at his blatant lewd display.

“Fucking delicious.” He says, his gaze like a famished wolf looking at his prey. “Now undo my pants.” He demands, leaning back in his leather chair.

Doing as he says you bend down to make work of his belt but his hand soon wraps around your neck directing your gaze back up. Before you could say a word his lips slam against yours in a fevered kiss, it's hard and wanting. Your teeth clash as your tongues tangle together. Your hands struggle to undo his pants, pulling away Seraphim takes over and quickly rips open his fly and pulls out his throbbing cock from his underwear.

Straddling his lap, your arms wrap around Seraphim’s neck, he lines up his tip to your dripping cunt. Your legs quake with every added inch of his thick cock stuffed inside you. Finally bottomed out and filled to your max you’re about to start rocking against him but, in like some cruel joke, you’re stopped. Large hands grip your hips like a vise stunting any moment you attempt.

Seraphim wasn’t exaggerating when he said ‘five minutes’ and when he says ‘be quiet’ he means quiet.

No speaking. No whimpering. No moving. Nothing.

For nearly the next hour you were forced to sit, fully stuffed, on Seraphim’s lap as he took a business call. During the back and forth between him and the other man on the receiver your boss’s hands roam your body. Squeezing and kneading the flesh of your exposed ass, unbuttoning your dress shirt to have access to your breasts. Between thoughts he lays kisses along your neck and chest.

The constant stimulation of his hands and the stagnant filling of your cunt is becoming unbearable. You give Seraphim a pleading look, your hand cupped over your mouth to muffle any gasps or whimpers. Smiling at you and talking to the speaker, his hand wraps around your throat and pulls your face close to his.

“Yes, I should be able to get those to you by the end of the week.” Leaning into your ear his whispers, “Give my cock a little squeeze, Sweetheart.” You contract your walls around his shaft as instructed and hold your desperate whine behind your palm making the amused smirk stay plastered on your boss’s handsome face. “Good girl.”

Still talking casually, Seraphim pushes you back till your resting on the edge of his desk, your free hand gripping the edge for support, to have a full view of your disheveled appearance -your skirt bunched up around your waist, shirt unbuttoned and falling off your shoulders and your breasts half pulled out of your bra. Sliding his rough palm up and down your exposed body, giving a squeeze to your flesh where he sees fit, his hand lands to rest atop your mound.

“Absolutely. I’ll have my secretary forward those emails to you ASAP.” As the word ‘secretary’ left his lips, his thumb dipped between your soaked lips and began gently rubbing your throbbing clitoris.

Your pussy clenched involuntary to the added stimulation pulling a groan from Seraphim, who covers it up like a cough, his eyes shoot you a warning glare. Whimpering behind your hand you close your eyes to focus and control your body but it’s near impossible to stop the convolutions of your neglected and stretched out cunt.

With your eyes screwed shut and all your attention being on Seraphim’s torturous thumb and twitching cock you didn’t notice his meeting was wrapping up till he pulled you back to reality by cupping the back of your neck and slamming his lips against yours in a frenzed kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair, messing the neatly tied bun at the back of his head.

“You did so good for me, Sweetheart.” His praise melts over you. A surprised yelp leaves your lips when you become weightless and are carried over to the leather couch on the other side of his office.

Sitting back on the couch with you straddling his lap, Seraphim makes work to strip you of your open shirt and bra. Tossing the needless clothing aside, his large hands palm your breasts, squeezing them hard and directing your nipple to his open mouth. His hot tongue laps at your hardening buds, going back and forth between the two. Pinching and pulling the one not occupied by his mouth, never leaving one unattended.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your hips unconsciously begin grinding against his. With both hands cupping your breasts Seraphim looks up at you, his eyes dilated with lust.

“That’s right, little bird, fuck yourself on my cock. You were so good during my meeting. Use my cock.” His low and gravelly voice didn’t have to tell you twice before you began forcefully riding him.

Cupping your hand over your mouth you capture your muffled cries of pleasure. Seraphims hands continue to grope your breasts and waist as he encourages your demanding movements, moans breaking up his words.

“By the Gods- Just like that, Sweetness. Ride my fucking cock. You’re such a good girl, taking me so fucking well. Fuck.”

Your body feels hot. The foreplay and the last forty-five minutes of sitting on your boss’s cock and him toying with your body with no give has finally caught up to you. Your head drops back as you get lost in the rhythm of your hips and the rough touch of his hands on your bare skin. Your thighs begin to burn with exhaustion but you refuse to let up your desperate pace.

“I can’t. Seraphim, please- ah.” You whine, trying to keep your voice down by burying your face in his sweat slick neck. You’re so close but your treacherous body wouldn’t let the coil in your belly snap. You can feel it build and build but never get to the apex of your pleasure. A balloon of frustration fills your chest as you helplessly rock your hips against Seraphim’s.

“Yes you can, Sweetheart.” He says, grabbing your neck and pulling you nose to nose. “Cause you aren’t getting off my cock till you cum and if you don’t I will make you fuck yourself till your legs give out. Do you understand me?” His domineering words pull another pitiful whimper from you because you know he would.

His free hand grips your ass cheek and begins assisting your movements, forcing your cunt to take his length faster and harder.

“Like that. Fuck yourself like you mean it.” You nod your head with a cry trapped in your throat. “Good girl. Your tight cunt is squeezing me so hard. You’re gonna cum, aren’t ya’? Cream all over your boss’s cock? Is that what you like?”

“Gods, yes.” You choke out as his grip on your throat tightens, cutting into your air.

“That’s right. Such a slutty little pussy. So needy and hungry for my cock. Look at you. You’re making such a mess on my lap. You should be ashamed of yourself. Falling apart like a bitch in heat.”

The combination of his cock bullying in your contracting walls and his demeaning words assaulting your ears you’ve dissolved into a whimpering mess, your moans being held back by his hand. Your finger nails dig into his muscled shoulder drawing a hiss from the panting man beneath you. Releasing your throat, allowing you full gulps of air, he puts an iron grip on your hip to help you keep your pace.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Come on, Sweetheart. Cum for me. Cover my cock in your slick.” His hand on your ass moves between the two of you and begins scratching at your clit and that was what brought your tower down.

Pulling his hair you slam your lips against his, making him swallow your moans. Your body shakes under the weight of your orgasm. His rough fingers continue to rub your sensitive bud throughout your high.

Moaning into each other's mouths Seraphim shifts under you so he can pump himself up into your squelching cunt. His hips piston into you, pushing him closer to his end and he doesn’t stop as yours begins to deflate.

“Seraphim, wai-ah.” Overstimulation begins to set in as the powerful man beneath you seeks his own pleasure in your body.

“Hold on, Sweetness- gah. So fucking- shit. Just a little- Gods dammit, your cunt is perfect- ah. Broken up praises and moans fall from the man's lips as his hips continue their movements, faltering and skipping beats in the rhythm indicating his pending release.

“Fuck, Seraphim. Please- ah. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to keep your voice down in his neck. “Please, Seraphim. I need you to cum baby. Fuck- cum inside me, Seraphim -ah- please.” That was all he needed. You didn’t even get to finish your pleas when Seraphim’s hot ropes of cum began coating your constricting walls.

His hand tangles in your hair and pulls you into a heated kiss, drinking up all your shared moans of pleasure. Your hips stutter and shake as they milk the remaining semen spilling from Seraphim’s balls.

Strong arms hold your trembling body close, your foreheads resting against each other. The air between you is humid as you both try to catch your breaths and gain back control after your intense arousal. Large hands comb back your hair and opening your tired eyes you meet a gaze mirroring the same feelings you have.

Lust. Tiredness. Satisfaction.

The two of you stay connected for a few more minutes till Seraphim breaks the silence.

“You okay? Ya’ think you can get up?” You chuckle lightly.

“Yeah. Do you think anyone heard us?” You ask, your face heating up after realizing that in the moment you may have not been as quiet as you hoped you were. He just titters back as you both stand up to collect your clothes.

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less if anyone did.” He says shamelessly while tucking himself back in his ruined pants, the evidence of your communion showing in white blotches on his black slacks. Before you could react and get a wet towel to clean him up your neck is grabbed and pulled into another earth shattering kiss.

“You’re mine. Let them hear. They should know who you belong to.” Your mouth is dry as you look up at him and nod your head. He smiles pulling out your panties from his blazer pocket, handing them to you. “Now put these back on and keep my cum inside you. Don’t make me have to fill you again.” His lips catch yours once more before pulling away to go wash up in his connected bathroom.

“Yes, Sir.”

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this interaction & feedback are always appreciated :)

If you want to be tagged for any of my up coming posts plz direct message me

~ Kinktober Masterlist ~ ~ Blog Masterlist ~

💛 ~

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #netflix blood of zeus #blood of zeus #boz #boz smut #blood of zeus seraphim #blood of zeus seraphim x reader #boz seraphim #boz seraphim x reader #seraphim x reader #x reader #smut #*nsfw

126 notes · View notes

heroofspiritsisthebestlink · 1 year

Text

VHAD NATION

I wrote another fic! This time, I think it’s short enough to just slap on here. I also want to thank @creativeskull95 for letting me use their OC, Maia! Please, give their stuff a look as well.

Without further ado, let’s begin.

A Dream Is A Wish Your Core Makes

"Lock down the whole building. We can't risk that thing getting in."

The overly sweaty humans on the screen started bickering between themselves, as Thad began to zone out for the 13th time tonight. He really was trying to keep up with the movie, but it bored him so much that he was genuinely starting to wonder if his motivator was malfunctioning. A quick hit on the pause button and a two minute full body-scan later revealed that, no, the flick was just that asinine. It didn't help that it was getting a little late, or that this was his third attempt at trying to watch the whole thing through. Horror was boring him, somehow. Living in an isolationist, paranoid society that was constructed from the fear of death made dramatized fiction like this feel artificial and numbing. At least, that's what he supposed. He rubbed his eyes and slumped back into the sofa, maybe he'll give it a fourth shot tomorrow.

His eyes went wide in surprise as the sound of a ventilation grid hitting the floor behind him brought him back to reality. When the initial shock passed, he looked over his shoulder and sighed in relief as a familiar, tall figure lowered herself into his hallway. Adjusting her hair, she then waved at him.

"Hey." Said V. "Pod got a little cramp and I got bored."

"That makes two of us." Said Thad, throwing a flabby hand up at the running TV. V chuckled, making herself at home by casually throwing herself on the sofa and putting her legs on the armrest.

"So what's on?" She asked, leaning up against his side.

"'The Instance,' or something. School assignment. We're supposed to watch horror movies to study how humans..." He picked up the paper laying on the table, digital eyes squinting to find a specific paragraph. "'...Use suspense and scares to engage their viewers.' This gotta be the worst movie in the world to show that. Thanks Teach." Thad threw the paper into the air and leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head.

"Dunno about all that, but I'm sure as hell entertained. Look at that guy's wig!" She cackled, pointing a stray claw at the screen. Thad rolled his eyes, but couldn't deny he was smirking. A wig that spiky did look a little out of place. He found himself earnestly smiling for the first time while watching this movie. Maybe it'd be easier to stay awake if he had someone to banter with.

As it turns out, it wasn't so bad if you just had company. They poke fun at the flimsy plot and all the oddities of humanity. V is especially snarky today, mockingly questioning every part of the movie from the character's illogical actions to their fashion choices. The former huntress exercised great comedic skill as she efficiently disassembled the poor Worker Drone's mask, leaving him gasping for air as she continued her assault on his Funny Code. They couldn't stop giggling.

As they finally managed to get past the 60-minute mark, the movie picked up considerably. It was at least interesting enough to make the two drones shift around in their seating and graduate from limp blobs to sitting normally. The characters had eventually gotten into a predicament interesting enough to get invested in. The guy with the spiky wig even got taken away. And then the movie's climactic horror scene happened. The movie's monster, some cloaked creature, had seemingly cornered a large group of characters in a foyer. Then, the carnage began. The monster lunged at the defenseless meat-bags and mercilessly culled them. Bodies were ripped apart, limbs were torn off, screams peaked and died out, and blood was splattered on the walls to such a gruesome degree that would almost be comical if it wasn't so disturbingly familiar. But it was with humans, so Thad could stomach it. He side-eyed V to gauge her reaction, she was being oddly quiet. V looked unnerved. The eyes on her visor had dilated into pupil-less circles. It was getting to her. It was too familiar. Same old horrors. It was too much.

The screen froze as two, grey vertical blocks stared back at her. Thad had paused the movie.

"Do you wanna watch something else?" He asked. V blinked, pupils returning.

"...Isn't this an assignment?"

"It can wait. I have the whole week." He didn't, but this felt more important. Stepping out of the sofa, he waved her over to a shelf with a bunch of plastic casings. DVDs, she realized. Thad began digging through them all, taking them out one by one and having increasingly indifferent reactions to the covers. Looking over the collection, V started to browse herself. Noticing an oddly fancy, glittery one, she took it out. 'Cinderella.'

"What's this?" V asked, staring at the cartoon woman on the cover with intensity, as if trying to gauge whether or not the woman may have the fire powers the title implied.

"Oh, that's my sister's. We can put it on though." He offered with an endorsing tone. V plucked the disc from its casing and threw the plastic over her shoulder, inserting it into the DVD player and hitting Play with her tail. Taking a seat next to Thad again, she waited with her hands resting on her lap. After a few seconds of unusually old static, the archaic sound of filtered horns filled the room.

Cinderella~

If you give your heart a chance

Thad smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched this with Maia, but the melody brought back many memories of his sister gleefully singing along to all the songs. V had nothing to say. She just watched unblinking as colorful graphics painted several pictures to a beautiful song. She said nothing as the pleasant narration introduced her to a nostalgic setting. She didn't question how the woman could converse with animals, or how they could help her shower. It was just a story about a servant girl dreaming of more, and that was enough for her to escape in.

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing...

———————————————————————

When Maia woke up early in the morning, she was confused to find a metal grate on the floor in their hallway. Tip-toeing around it, she kept quiet as she sneaked into the living room, expecting to find her brother fast asleep on the sofa once again. Her hand flew up to her mouth to choke the gasp she nearly let out, as next to her brother slept a much larger, scarier girl. A Murder Drone, or, a 'Disassembly Drone,' as she had tried to learn, was cuddling up to Thad in a paradoxically sweet embrace. Looking over them, Maia could also see that the girl had wrapped her tail around Thad's leg. The drone had a big yellow SLEEP MODE sign on her visor, with text beneath reading 'DO NOT DISTURB' in threatening, bold letters. But even if she was really scary, Maia also thought she was really pretty. She was like a sleeping princess, but with big scary wings and teeth.

As silently as possible, Maia began tracing her steps backwards to leave, but was startled to hear her foot step into something crunchy. Panicked, she looked down. It was the casing to her Cinderella DVD. Why was that there? Looking back up, she gasped. Wide, terrified eyes met squinting, groggy ones. The murder princess was awake. With a surprisingly gentle smile, the big girl winked at her, quietly shushing her with a finger. More embarrassed than afraid, Maia turned around and quickly ran into her room.

#murder drones #murder drones thad #serial designation v #vhad

44 notes · View notes

kashuan · 1 year

Note

Hi I love your art style! Especially how dynamic your poses and how distinct and expressive your faces are.

For somebody currently struggling with their own style, do you mind sharing how you got to where you got? Probably lots of studies, right? 😅

Did you focus on realism and built your more stylized take on that? I'm mostly a digital artist but I have heard that practicing a lot with pencil and paper may help, do you have any experiences with that?

I'd love to hear if you have any advice <3

Hey! First of all, thanks so much! ♥

In terms of stylization, aiming for and sticking to a single style is something I've heard that some people do, but was never something I really thought about too much myself. I started by just copying the artists I liked, so in the beginning I was just mimicking another's style 1:1 for the most part. After doing that with several artists, the styles naturally started to blend together, until I was eventually able to develop a more conscious sensibility of what I did/didn't want to include, which just comes through a lot of the practice. Over the years my style has been really all over the place, from Extremely anime influenced, to western comic book style and cartoonish, to fairly strict realism, to where I am now which I think is something like stylized realism. It's inevitable that you'll go through a few styles as you grow as an artist, even if you're only sticking to one genre, and I believe it's important to allow that to happen, rather than trying to strictly force yourself to stick to one in specific. I don't draw in the styles I used to, but I think little touches of it still remain in my current one, which I think helps give it a little bit of uniqueness. In regard to my current style though, yes, I do studies from life almost every day to help me keep a strong grasp on realistic anatomy as well as to continue to grow my understanding of it. I use references too with almost all my drawings, but then I add stylization on top of it, which is something I wasn't able to do with much success until I had been practicing for years, so don't be discouraged if this is a struggle. I will say though as soon as I began to do studies regularly, my improvement went like 500% faster than it had before; just about the only thing I wish I'd done differently on my journey with art would have been to start doing studies from life sooner. So if stylized realism is a style you're interested in, I can't recommend that enough! And even for more cartoonish styles, the better your understanding of forms and anatomy, the easier time you'll have exaggerating it confidently, tbh. Re: digital versus pen and paper, this isn't so much related to style specifically, but even as a primarily digital artist myself, I highly recommend getting in some practice with real media too. It forces you to be more deliberate and decisive with your mark making, especially if you're using something like pen-- once the line is made, you can't erase it-- and that skill carries over to how you draw your lines digitally. I still try to do pen studies at least once a month and I think it definitely influences the confidence of my digital lines. Lastly, I'd also say keeping some sort of inspiration board is a great tool. I have a side blog for saving pieces that I see which I would like to incorporate elements of into my own style, whether because I liked the way the figure was posed, the expressions, the artist's mark making, the composition, the interaction between the subjects, etc. There's so much like that which all goes into influencing an artist's specific style and it's really interesting to think about when you consider what you want from your own! Whenever I'm feeling a little dry on inspiration I look through my dash over there or in the folder of inspiration I've saved and it almost always helps get some new ideas flowing. Like I said, I don't think it's necessarily a good idea to focus in on just one specific style and constrain yourself that way, but to instead consider how you'd like to use bits and pieces of many styles can be very helpful to growing your own. There's a whole lot more than can be said on this subject, but I hope this much is of some help to you ♥♥

#i've also been rereading one of my favorite books on style recently that i've been intending to post some excerpts from soon #it says a lot of things far more eloquently than I could so maybe also look for that post i make in the near future :D

34 notes · View notes

thesixthimmortal · 2 months

Text

Distracted

Fanfic chapters of my dreams

Chapter 1 - Smosh x equestria girls crossover

Warning: A bit of sunset x reader, made up conversation's because it's hard to remember words in dreams. Shayne and Angela is a teacher but Shayne does most of the teaching. Can be out of character.

You open the door to the session room, entering while breathing heavily in and out. Shayne looks away from the other students who looks older or the same as you, face blank he says "Y/N! First day and you're already ehh" he looks down at the digital clock on his left wrist "7 minutes late, but hey! could have been worst"

"Topp, I am so sorry I forgot to put on my alarm i swear I didn't mean to be this late!" You said, bit of fear and panic could be heard through your voice. Shayne sighs "since it's you're first day, you'll get a pass" he says. you're eyes lit up which made him smile "Angela will give you the test by her desk". You walk up to a woman who is typing on her computer, she looks up at you "Mx L/N, you're late to class" she says, her voice raspy but soft. Before you could respond she opens a drawer under her desk and pulls out a paper which seems to be the test, she hands it out to you and you take it.

You turn to look at the seats, it wasn't many, it was like 6 including you. You walk to the only free seat and sit down, putting you're backpack down. You take out you're pencil case, and you we're ready.

It was harder than you thought it would be, you were stuck on a question which seems like a math question which was you're weakness since middle school, sitting there confused as you silently jump you're foot up and down in frustration. A yellow and red haired girl who you didn't notice silently lean towards you, whispering in your ear "it's 74" you jump a little, facing towards to girl. "What?" You whsiper back, confused as you were just stuck in you're own thoughts.

"The answer is 74" she seem to repeat, you quickly write that answer down, whispering back "how did you know that?" "I've been studying math since I was in 3rd grade, it's my favorite subject" she whispered. You just hummed as you continue you're test.

After a few minutes later as you were done with the test Shayne finally spoke up "okay everyone, put down the pencils and return you're finished test to the desk, if you're not done then you can finish it during lunch" people start to get up from their seats to return the papers to Angela.

"Great to see most of you finished, most people don't get to finish on their first day on tests and exams" he says as you sit back to your seat. He then start talking about whatever he talks about, not gonna lie, you zoned out half of his talking. You look around the room, trying to memorize the place until you're eyes lands on the girl from a few minutes ago, Her red and yellow wavy hair that goes down past her shoulders, the cool purple, orange and black leather jacket that is over her orange and yellow like shirt. She looked bored out of her mind until she feels someone stare at her, turning her head she faces you which makes you quickly look away from her, your hand going through your hair, suddenly the white like wall looks fascinating to you.

The girl side smirks for a moment, Shayne was busy drawing on the school board of about the topic they were suppose to focuse on, and leans to towards you again.

"What's up?" It starled you again, looking over to the bacon haired girl "huh?" You whispered back "you seem nervous" she whispers, hint of teasing in her voice. "It's my first day here" "I can tell" she whispered. You two went silent for a while.

"What's you're name again?"

"Y/N" you replied in a whisper

"Oh yeah, I uhm, I'm Sunset" you look over to her, a eyebrow raised "You're name is Sunset?" "It's complicated" she silently groaned, her amber hand rubbing her face. "Well uh, it is a great name"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it fits you" you akwardly smile. Sunset crosses her arms which rests on her desk, looking at you with a akward smirk "god this is so akward" she whispers, you then what sounded like a chuckle, or a giggle "yeah no fucking shit"

"Ms Shimmer and Mx L/N" You and Sunset look up to shayne who is looking away from the written and drawed on board, "if you two wanna talk, you both can talk after this session." He says, and then looks the others "so goes for you guys, it is great to see you all having fun, but please safe it for the break" he says before sighing "now where was I? Oh right-"

He goes back to talking, Sunset rolls her eyes while you massage the back of your neck in embarrassment. You look over as she yawns but listens to the topic anyway, you look at shayne as well. You thought about what happened, the girl was nice, maybe you can try getting to know her more after the session? She helped you, and talked to you even doe you were staring at her like a weirdo. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, maybe this wouldn't be so bad, it is the start after all.

-----------

A/N: will probably make a part 2 of this? This is so GOOD, maybe I'll make up a fanfic related to this

Fanfics that says 'Fanfic chapters of my dreams' are fanfic that I written from what I remembered from my dream. Fanfics that says 'Fanfics that are made up' are made up continuation from the last chapter which isn't part of the dream but hey! We have to figure how what comes next SOMEHOW

#dreams #fanficton #shayne topp #angela giarratana #smosh #my little pony #equestria girls #crossover #crack fic #sunset shimmer #fanfiction #sunset shimmer x reader #my arm hurts #smosh fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

bigjimbopickens · 1 year

Note

Hi! I wanna say I love your art first of all! I just read the message under your last post about Kevin’s art video and you said you’re mostly self taught - I’m curious about how you get into that? I’d love to learn to draw but have no idea where to start!

Sorry for getting back to this so late I am not as active on Tumblr. And yes, I am mostly self-taught because of my circumstances growing up. To those who don't know, I am SnowfallWarning/Big Jimbo and I am currently an animation student. I do 2D animation, concept art and character design and I graduate this year (hopefully). I am disabled both physically and mentally which is why I mostly do digital art. I have a coordination disorder (dyspraxia) and am blind in one eye but that doesn't stop me. For my entire childhood I was discouraged from drawing as I apparently wouldn't go anywhere with it or that I was terrible. Where I lived most of my life had no opportunities for someone like me so I had to leave to continue pursuing art. Because of the poor access, the only things I had was notebooks, school supplies and an old iPad mini to draw with growing up. I learned everything I currently know now from using those. I don't know what got me into drawing still, may have been Warrior Cats and dinosaurs. Like what Jose said in Kevin's video, art comes from the soul. It is human expression and we've always been doing it. Anyone can be an artist and we all start somewhere, trust me. Here's some stuff I usually tell people because I do get asked this often (I'm also not the best teacher): 1: Experiment. Find what works for you. Be messy with it, not every piece needs to be perfect. If you are a digital artist then also trying different programs can be helpful too. Maybe you're better at drawing landscapes, characters or abominations that defy God. 2: Use references if necessary. Not sure why for a while it was considered "cheating" to use references. Everyone in the industry uses references, I would know. If you also want, you can try tutorials but I found I learn more from references. 3: Take inspiration. I'm always adding things I see in other people's art to my own style if I like it. Though try not to copy them. 4: Tracing. I believe tracing is okay for learning purposes. It's how I learned to draw humans after doing exclusively furry art for years tbh. I tend to stick to real-life references for this, this is a great site for practice: https://line-of-action.com (if you're not okay with nudity then do remember to turn that off). "But where do I even start?" Grab a piece of paper and pencil (or open a blank canvas on a digital art program if you prefer that) and just start doodling whatever. If you have an idea then go for that as well. Every class I've had in college so far has started with drawing and rendering a bunch of shapes to see where everyone was at and to get a feel of our styles. So maybe try that too. Draw random shapes with different materials/brushes, colour them in and add details like shadows and highlights. I know it seems ridiculous but I do it every once in a while to experiment and try different methods. You probably won't improve overnight. Hell, it took me 7 years to get to where I currently am. A lot of people quit because they think they're not good enough when pretty much every artist is only proud of about 10% of their work. Definitely the case for me. Not every piece is going to be a masterpiece and the imperfections can be what makes it special, so please don't be so hard on yourself. Don't be discouraged because other artists may be better than you either, they've probably been doing it for longer. So please, if you are dedicated enough, keep trying. I'm sure you will get somewhere :) So basically, - Use whatever material you got and draw what comes to mind, even if it's terrible it is a great start. - Experiment with your style and/or materials. - Reference, take inspiration and trace for memory. - Don't give up but do take breaks to avoid burnout. - Try not to be intimidated by other artists, we also don't really know what we're doing tbh (and just as afraid of you as you are of us).

I hope that all made sense and was somewhat helpful :)

8 notes · View notes

ekkurea · 9 months

Note

Your art is so beautiful. May I please have tips for doing digital art and maybe drawing. I’m trying to improve my art skills, both pencil and paper ☺️

Hello! Thank you so much! I don't even know what I can do to help. But I will try to tell you everything I can remember and maybe some of it will be useful to you. Although, you've probably already heard/read it all or experienced it yourself.

Progress in drawing (and not only) rests on "several pillars"

STABILITY, ANALYSIS, INSPIRATION (Continued 👇🏻 And some of my old drawings)

Perhaps we should start with the last one, inspiration. Do what you love, love what you do. In addition, I advise you to clearly define for yourself what the rational purpose of your work is. I spent a lot of time wondering why I should create my own art if there are already millions of cool artists. Find your benefit to yourself, others, and the world. This will help in difficult times when the wave of emotions subsides.

Lack of stable practice. For various reasons, I often quit drawing and had to go back to the beginning every time. Drawing is about knowledge and skills. So even if you remember the structure of the skull and the process of drawing, your hands and brain still need time to adjust technically.

If you wanted to hear some practical step-by-step actions, then unfortunately I won't be able to help you with that. You need to visually show the process (and there are endless topics to study) with explanatory support and feedback on the final result. Perhaps someday I will be able to open my courses or share quality tutorials with you.

Maybe this quick tip will help you. If you are just starting out, I would advise you to draw more quick sketches, small finished drawings. I also like an old saying. "Your work should look complete at any stage." Whether it's a sketch, working with color or whatever. It doesn't mean that you have to dwell on each of them. It means that you need to have a basic understanding, and even if it's not perfect, you should be able to do each stage. I hope I was able to make that clear.

But also don't be afraid of full-fledged illustrations that require a lot of sweat. Why do my words contradict? For example. At the institute, we hardly ever made quick sketches or small illustrations. We painted few pictures and spent several weeks on each one. This is not good. Because while we were trying to perfect the coloring of the picture, we were already "forgetting" how to work with composition. And as I said, regularity plays an important role and it is a great exercise for the brain. So take breaks, alternate your workload, and always learn something new to see progress.

I was able to test how much better it works on my own students (I started teaching at a private art school in my final year of university). Children who refused to do quick exercises quickly burned out on long, full-fledged drawings. Children who drew only quick sketches were afraid of difficulties and as a result drew worse and worse. It was only when I had to insist on maintaining a balance that they started without enthusiasm at first, but later said how great it was and were grateful. We also alternated topics, from free choice of anime or anything to classic still lifes. They learned to love both.

By the way, it was while teaching that I realized how important it is to structure information and drawing stages in your head. To check if you have learned everything well, try explaining and teaching others. You will immediately notice if you have any gaps.

Since we're on the subject, I'll tell you about my path, which is quite typical. But I promised to show you some of my old drawings. Unfortunately, most of the photos have not survived, but here is what I found. And while some of the drawings are still at home in my hometown, the drawings from the university were successfully sold to junior students (haha, does it work like that for you too?).

Beginning. Art school (5-11 years old). Most of the time fooling around with peers, the rest of the time being forced to draw something you don't like. Complicating factors: the complete absence of a learning process (teachers did not show or explain anything at all and everything was done at the level of children's intuition). A few high-quality tutorials on the Internet would have given me more than all the training there (we can talk separately about how difficult it is to find high-quality drawing courses even now. I had no luck with that at all. Pay attention not only to how the courses advertise themselves, but also to what their students can do, what they study, how the material is presented, what teaching methods are used... Don't waste your money). The result: I hated drawing. I didn't even want to think about a sheet of paper and a pencil. And I say this with all the love for the memories of those times. And yet, I'm still grateful for my childhood.

Still lifes and nature are interesting! I realized this when I became an adult, gained experience and saw the meaning and beauty in them, and then I became sincerely interested in the process. If they tell you that by painting still lifes you will learn to paint anything, they are not lying. It is a good base for understanding shapes, textures, colors and space.

By the way, an additional problem of motivation at that time was that at that time, becoming an artist, designer, illustrator, animator, drawing anime or something similar was on the level of "becoming an astronaut". At the time, I didn't even think about the possibility of this. "You just have to find a normal job." Do you know what I mean? It's good that times are changing.

Already at the construction college (I was planning to become an architect) (I was 14-15 years old), I started drawing in class out of boredom. I drew what I was interested in. I was surprised myself, but this accident (or was it?) marked the beginning of everything. I still consider those times to be the best for my mental health and my creativity. I still can't get back the "wings" of inspiration and carefree spirit I had. Ah, youth (ha ha). Unfortunately, then I had to give up everything again and go to work alongside my studies.

The idea that I could really become an illustrator was also a matter of fate. I saw one artist from my city who "made it". I looked at her path and thought that I wanted to do it too. So, to try and not lose what I already have, I entered two universities at the same time (to study engineering and graphic design). I like to be autonomous and set an example for myself, but it's also good to be inspired and learn from others.

By the way. Looking at others too much became my big problem during my university years. I faced the problem of analyzing my work and other artists. I couldn't see myself, felt incredible pressure and was torn looking at professionals of different styles and directions. There were too many of them. It was killing me morally. It's better to drop the fear. Easy to say, but sometimes hard to do, I know.

Write down a few areas (fanart, book illustration, character development) and try each one. Choose a few top authors in each area. You can analyze what is currently relevant and for which audience and publications. The current style and color scheme in the industry may even depend on the country. For example, in Asia, children's book illustration has its own favorites, which are significantly different from Europe. Think about who you are working for.

If you choose to go your own way, focusing only on yourself, I also want to reassure you. Each of us already has a style. It is the way we draw now and what we will add during practice (colors we like, techniques we may have seen from someone else, etc.). It's like a snowball that gets bigger as it travels. Only in practice will you realize what is truly yours. Besides, we don't know where life will take us. I honestly could not even imagine that I would be lucky enough to paint fanarts. So you shouldn't choose one narrow direction for the rest of your life. We change and so does our path, which indicates our development. Focus on what you can try right now. This will give you the first impetus.

It's quite interesting that one artist can have a radically different style depending on whether they work with traditional materials or digital. I know an illustrator who likes to draw nature in classic realism, but on a tablet she draws bright stylized drawings. You can be different and that's okay. And I was the person who couldn't get used to drawing on a tablet for years. It can be difficult to find your tools and re-adjust, to get used to other feelings.

About the process. Before you start, make sure you have all the information you need (if you are not just painting for yourself, for relaxation). Sometimes it happens that you have a task, but without clear requirements. It's better to ask the customer (or if you're drawing for yourself, ask yourself) about the idea of the drawing, the format, the technical requirements, the audience it's for, what should be emphasized, what color scheme, what is the reason for it... The more details you know and the clearer you imagine what the result should be, the less likely you are to have to redo everything. This is an opportunity to thank all my customers who provide me with great quality references! Some of them even write a whole story about the characters and the idea and atmosphere the illustration should have. Thank you so much! Thanks to this, I understand your thoughts better and the illustrations become more "alive".

#askekurea

5 notes · View notes