#also i really need more practice painting skin tones

[ghostlysleuth]

Do you have any tips for when designing poc characters?? Like what not or to do, etc.

this is massively edited down to just keep the essentials. this isn't going to be as explicit as you were maybe wanting but saying "don't draw black characters this way, don't draw asian characters that way" isn't something i wanna do because it's not a good feeling to review a list of offensive design practices from a trauma standpoint and likely wouldn't be for any other people of color reading.

study from real photos.

really, any set of photos of people of color work but if you want a resource where people are not models nor actors that have been plucked up for their marketableness, here's a good site: Humanae — Angélica Dass (angelicadass.com) it's a photography collection associated with pantone to showcase diversity in shades of skin.

study faces within a group.

no two ppl look the same and character design is about showcasing this through certain features.

from these, study how much differently color works for melanated/non-white skin.

again, it's different for everyone even within groups. admittedly this is only something you'd need if you have a more in-depth or painterly style, but still. avoid grayish base skin tones. the aforementioned site is actually great for this.

LOOK INTO RACIST CARICATURES.

literally, people wouldn't find themselves "accidentally" slipping into racist designs if they just KNEW, explicitly knew, and internally acknowledged what people of color find offensive or what has been used against them in depictions of themselves.

yes, this includes looking at the old offensive cartoons, illustrations, etc. it's painful and uncomfortable and rough but it must be understood how these caricatures were a means of dehumanization and are mistakes to be learned from.

again, i'm not gonna list out exactly how not to depict a black person, an asian person, jewish person, latine, middle eastern, etc. etc. etc., because i feel these things should just be known, but if it's not, literally just be aware (or get aware) of the racial stigma faced by the group of people you are attempting to represent. put care into how you are depicting them.

BUT ALSO KEEP IN MIND: you shouldn't jump to default to white eurocentric features simply to "avoid" the any sort of backlash or offense that may be taken. because if you do so, a) in attempting to not be offensive, you're still perpetuating the upholding and favoring of white eurocentric features, and b) well, you're just stifling yourself.

designing characters of color REQUIRES acknowledgement of non-eurocentric features; hell, in the best cases, it's a celebration of these features.

as you would in replicating a style of architecture, a technique of painting, a depiction of a culture, you have to observe and become knowledgeable.

addendum: obviously, i'm not white, so i don't know the depths of how pervasive racism and white supremacy can be in a white person's personal life and upbringing; but i do know that racism and white supremacy are pervasive even (ESPECIALLY) in art, a much more tangible and permanent thing than a state of being, and knowing this, i do reserve a small margin of patience for white folks that are wanting to try to be in the know on this topic, especially younger people who have yet to unlearn certain things. if anyone reads this and thinks "well, it's not their responsibility or any person of color's to teach you these things," you're correct, but yknow. the effort's there, and trying's all we can do.

#asks #talkies #i removed this example so this is out of context but fuck robert crumb #anyway lol

[coulsonlives]

Mkay, time for my in-depth review of Zuko's scar in the live action ATLA, because I'm a lil salty.

This is the first shot of Zuko we see, and my first impression is: this isn't the best makeup. The first thing that stands out is the flatness of the scar. It's unrealistic, because burn scars usually heal in a lumpy way, it's called hypertrophy. See the burn scar from the Hound (Sandor Clegane) in GOT:

That lumpiness is super important for making skin appear like it had been burned by fire and healed over! But because it's not really there in Zuko's face, it just looks like he got a bad sunburn:

I understand Zuko doesn't need a super deformed face, or enormous textures in his scar, but we basically have just flat skin right now, and it doesn't sell 'bad scar' at all. The makeup should've been somewhere between those two things.

The second thing is the general inaccuracy of the scar itself. I'm not gonna nitpick how it doesn't go as far down his cheek, or how it's not affecting his left eyelid, but there are some major things I am gonna mention. In the animated show, his left eyebrow was burned away because the fire contacted the skin underneath it, and then went over that, up into his forehead:

Here's a crappy edit I made where the brow is mirrored, you can see how much the scar extends over it.

But in the makeup, it looks like the fire either stopped directly at the underside of his brow, or it did burn his skin under the brow, but the brow grew back somehow. It looks weird. Because the brow is still present, there's less contrast to draw your attention to the scar and subconsciously say 'this isn't normal'.

Here are two other edits I did:

This is what I'm talking about when I say the brow (and height of the scar) drastically changes how Zuko looks. He looks so much closer to the animated version now, but he's still free to emote because his eye isn't affected at all, and his brow could still move normally. It also helps give him that harsher appearance, which people tend to say exists with the ponytail hairdo! But it would also work great with his long hair look, which would soften everything anyways.

(For the second edit, I also tweaked the ear a lil bit.)

When it comes to the colours of the scar, I'm undecided. In the OG show, they probably had to change the colour of his scar so much to indicate there was even a scar in the first place, because it would've been annoying to add tons of line detail for the animators to deal with instead. At the same time, the live-action show could tone it down a lil bit. But it doesn't look bad, per se.

The third observation I have is Zuko's ear. If you look in the animated show picture above, his left ear (your screen right) is smaller than his right ear, because it's scarred over. I don't think it's practical to have that kind of effect in the live-action show, because it would mean even more CGI (they'd literally need to paint out the real ear, and then replace the ear with a digidouble ear). But if you look at the trailer capture, you'll see the scar colour doesn't even extend to his ear at all!

If you open the picture in photoshop, the scar around his eye and cheek has a reddish hue, but the skin on his ear is the same colour as the skin that isn't scarred. This isn't a cherry-picked sample, the hue is the same in each entire area. As soon as you stop sampling the ear and start sampling the cheek, it drops right into the reds/oranges:

I think the ear coming away unscathed might be a little unrealistic too, considering the scene where Zuko is burned by Ozai currently looks like this:

The fire is obviously going around the sides of his face, not just going directly into it and then bouncing away. It's kinda brushing around. With a scene like this I would expect the ear to have some kinda damage. Is it because they toned down the overall scar so much that any apparent damage on the ear would become nonexistent? Maybe. But right now, the scar just looks like a blob on his face, instead of a spot where fire actually flowed around.

And I just wanted to point out something else I've seen, not in the trailer, but in the fandom. Because I'm already tired of seeing it, it's dumb. Basically I was on a forum and I saw someone say 'if you want something like Two Face from Batman, this is the wrong property to ask for that'. I thought it was super unreasonable because nobody is asking for this:

And nobody is having a 'meltdown', like some other dishonest peeps are saying! People are just mildly upset that the actor's skin looks like it's been coloured in with dye, and there's almost zero hypertrophy to actually telegraph the fact that it's definitively a scar.

So those are my thoughts.. The scar is barely serviceable, they kinda dropped the ball imo.

Don't get me wrong, I totally understand the ~hollywood need~ to make things super toned down so you can see actors' glamorous faces or whatever, but some additional scar makeup wouldn't have harmed his ability to emote or anything. They didn't even need to do anything to his eye.. Just fix the overall first impression the scar gives, which would've worked with the stuff I mentioned above. So I'm not sold on 'it's to show the actor's face better' as an acceptable reason. It's an explanation sure, but it's just not good enough to justify the difference to me.

#if there's another explanation for this i'd love to hear it! i follow some of the news but i miss a lot of interviews/press junkets #atla #atla live action #zuko #atla zuko #atla netflix #dallas liu #burn cw #injury cw #body horror cw

[livielizardcos]

taking some time today to discuss xiao! specifically the upgrades i made to him for metrocon 2023. i did so much experimenting with new techniques and materials, so i wanted to share that here to document, and maybe inspire some of my fellow artists/cosplayers!

i don’t think i could ever properly explain how happy i was after remaking xiao’s shirt. the previous version (which was purchased) fit really poorly, and the fabric was not great. it constantly pulled out from the waist of the pants and it practically blocked any airflow. the solution was simple: remake it from a bodysuit. that way the shirt not only stayed in place but also already gave me a much better form-fitting base to start out with. the mesh panel in the back was the part i worried about the most but ended up being the part i’m happiest with! i used power mesh that i hand dyed to be close to my skin tone (though the color isn’t very clear due to my binder’s color).

the swirling pattern on the bodysuit is a metallic white fabric paint. i made a digital drawing of the pattern on procreate, then printed it onto freezer paper. after cutting it out with an exacto knife, you can actually iron freezer paper onto fabric (shiny side facing the fabric) and it creates a nearly seamless stencil for fabric paint! i see myself using this technique a lot in the future, it’s literally perfect!!

the black leather piece at the neck and shoulders was my biggest obstacle. not only have i never worked with leather, but it is also a non-stretch material i’d be attaching to the collar/neck portion that very much needed to be able to stretch to be pulled on. thankfully the design worked out that i could have 2 closure points, one on the back of the neck and one at the front of the neck. the entire piece is hemmed by folding over and gluing the raw edge to the inside, then i glued hem tape over those raw edges to cover them and make them softer on the skin (the entire leather piece is unlined, due to its complex shape). all the visible edges of the leather were satin stitched to give them a clean, crisp edge. the gold appliqués on the front and back are 2mm eva foam covered in a gold stretch fabric, then glued onto the bodysuit with e6000!

the two white pieces that frame the mesh panel on the back gave me more difficulty than i expected. their shape is a bit deceiving, and needing them to lie flat on my back without sacrificing the stretch of the main garment meant i couldn’t just top stitch them onto the back. and while i’m not super happy with how they ended up aligning (where they meet at the top is much further down than i was aiming for), i still think it came out really nice!

and that’s the finished top!

here’s a front and back of the finished top! the sleeve is held up with clear bra straps that hook onto the inside of the shirt at the shoulder. all in all, i absolutely love how this newer shirt came out.

besides the shirt/bodysuit, the boots also got an upgrade! i snagged some boots on sale on amazon for $20, which was an insane steal! this style is very universal for so many costumes, and it also helps that the boots are comfortable and flat too! all of the accessories on the boots are affixed temporarily or from the inside (velcro, snaps, and elastic) so that the integrity of the outer boot remains untouched and i can reuse them for several costumes and even everyday wear. i also replaced the gold piece around the neck that holds the “scarf.” just like the pieces on the shirt, it is 2mm foam covered in gold fabric. this not only helps the gold elements feel more cohesive but also lies a lot more comfortably on my neck!

#cosplay #cosplayer #tutorial #sewing #sewist #cosplay breakdown #cosplay tutorial #genshin impact xiao #xiao genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin impact #genshin impact cosplay #genshin impact xiao cosplay #genshin xiao cosplay #xiao cosplay #genshin cosplay #cosplay wip #metrocon #metrocon 2023 #xiao #adeptus xiao

[lightvixxen]

Hyper aware-

Eddie munson x afab!reader.

Summary: when you get overstimulated Eddie knows just how to handle it.

Wc: 1k

Warnings: none! Pure fluff! Reader is ND but its not specified. Reader used she/her but its only used like once. Reader also has a tendency to hit people if touched without warning while overstimulated so thats mentioned, weed mentions, kinda established relationship? Its not mentioned until the end really.

A/n: so this is actually based on true events that happened to me in one of my classes lol, obviously without the help of Eddie and it turning out very differently i got inspiration to write this because im still extremely overstimulated and this helps for some reader lol.

Tagging: @niceboyeds

Eddie knew something was wrong the second you walked into class. Your posture was rigid, your hands fidgeting with your necklace and you looked around the room searching for him.

When you finally spotted him you rushed over to his side, putting your backpack down and moving so you were closer to him.

“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong? What happened?“ he questioned you in a hushed but worried tone.

“I became hyper aware of everything in my last class- the electricity, the pencils moving, the textbooks being flipped, even the fabric on my fucking hoodie and now im really overstimulated” everything fell out of your mouth at what felt like 20 miles per hour.

Eddie gave you a sympathetic look, nodding in understanding.

“Where’s your walkman? Don’t you usually use it to keep this from happening?” He was genuinely curious, that thing practically never left you, carrying it around at all times just to feel safe and prevent this exact moment from happening.

“Don’t have it, I lost it and have absolute no idea where it is.” You run a hand through your hair, you were becoming more on edge by the second, the sounds of your classmates talking becoming more like nails on a chalkboard then actual voices.

“Do you wanna use mine? Our tastes are pretty similar and I’m pretty sure I still have-“ Eddie shut up the second he saw you physically recoil at the thought of using something that wasn’t yours.

”Okay, Do you wanna stay here, try to tough it out or do you wanna go back to my van and I can take you back to the trailer?” Eddie phrased it like a question but you knew the actual meaning behind the options. Do you want to wait until the tears start rolling or prevent it?

You shook your head “I can tough it out, i spent an hour like this already whats a few more?”

Both of you knew you wouldn’t be able to, this class specifically always made you overstimulated on a good day, already being overwhelmed and stimulated was a recipe for disaster. Yet you were too stubborn to admit your own limits.

Eddie rolled his eyes, hands already on his keys, he knew it was only a matter of time until you broke.

—

You we’re about fifteen minutes into the class when you started to become more restless, hands running through your hair, leg bouncing up and down, hands fidgeting with anything they could.

The teachers voice was practically nauseating, you could feel tears start to prick at your eyes, but you willed them back.

Eddie looked over to where you were sitting, a sympathetic expression painting his face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He whispers to you, reaching out before stopping himself, you hadn’t given him the okay and he really didn’t feel like getting you sent to the principals because you reacted and socked him in the face.

You went to nod- then shook your head quickly, tears finally breaching your waterline and rolling down your face. You quickly wiped them away, but that was enough for Eddie.

“Alright, lets go, you need to calm down.” He decided for you, knowing you would be stubborn and try to push yourself. “Can I touch you? Or is that too much right now?” He checks in with you, he has this exact procedure down as if it was an evacuation drill.

“Just grab my hoodie…skin to skin is too much” Eddie nods in understanding, grabbing a fistfull of the fabric surrounding your arms. He stood the both of you up, and as the teacher for this class opened their mouth to speak Eddie cut her off.

“Excuse us, she’s overstimulated and really need to leave” and with that Eddie ushers you out of the classroom and towards the parking lot.

Tears rolled down your face faster than you could stop them, the only tell tale sign you were crying as Eddie pulled you down the school’s hallway was the occasional sniffle.

Once you reached Eddie’s van he unlocked the car and pulled the backdoors open. You quickly hopped in, pulling at the fabric of your hoodie as you did, Once you were sat and situated Eddie followed you in.

The back was cozy, a space Eddie designed to help calm you down in situations like these. He had managed to save up enough to put a mattress in the back with a bunch of pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

“You want the other jacket I have in here, sweetheart? I know you hate that one in episodes.” You nod, finally pulling the hoodie off your head and throwing it somewhere to the side.

Eddie handed you his hoodie that he kept in the van for you, watching as you pulled it over your head and letting the familiar and comforting scent of Eddie surround your senses. He smiled as soon as he saw you visibly relax.

Eddie moves so he’s able to turn the van on without leaving you, he reaches for his cassettes before remembering why you were there and turning to you slightly.

“Music or no music?”

“Music…but on a low sound” Eddie nods, entering a random one into the player and turning the volume down enough it won’t make your problem worse.

“You starting to feel better?” You hum and lean your head on his shoulder, before flinching away and glaring at his clothing choice.

Leather and denim, your worst enemy.

Eddie chuckles, quickly discarding his jackets and throwing them in the same direction of your original hoodie.

“Sorry sweet thing, forgot you hate those textures.” You smile appreciatively, leaning on him once again.

You and Eddie stay like that for a few minutes before you’ve calmed down enough to recollect your thoughts.

“Thank you, eds.” You mumble, feeling your eyes droop suddenly, events like these draining you, feeling mentally and physically exhausted.

“For what?” He cautiously wraps a arm around you, when you don’t react he relaxes and pulls you into his chest.

“For putting up with me, when i'm overstimulated or have anxiety attacks.” Eddie made an ‘ah’ noise, you were always the apologetic type, even when you didn’t mean to be.

“I’m your boyfriend and best friend sweetheart, kinda my job.” He smiles, kissing your head.

“I know! But you could’ve left by now! Or driven me back to the trailer before going back to class!” Eddie rolled his eyes, you had friends and exes that have done that, leaving you to your own devices which in the end made things worse.

“Yeah no, this is way more fun.” You scoff and slap his chest.

“Is not!” Eddie barks out a laugh at your reaction.

“Yeah your right, it sucks, but I rather be comforting you then listen to some old lady talk about grammar and punctuation.” You giggle, and snuggle up into his chest, you were practically on his lap by now, but neither of you minded.

“You ready to go home, take a nap and then smoke so this doesn’t happen again later?“ overstimulated episodes for you usually lasted longer than anxiety, sometimes lasting for days.

“You gonna have to carry me in, gonna fall asleep back here”

“You know I’m perfectly fine with that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #fluff fic #comfort fic #my writing #vixenwrites #eddie munson comfort fic

[starlitangels]

Art Gallery

A little Jealous!Honey ficlet for your Jealous!Honey ficlet needs. 848 words

—

“Well this is... fun,” I said.

“Isn’t it? I love art galleries!” Guy replied brightly, squeezing my hand and dragging me over to another framed painting. He studied the painting intently before reading the plaque next to it. I looked around. Most of the paintings were abstract. To me, they were just splotches of random color. I liked paintings, but abstract had always been odd to me.

But Guy was having a good time, so I’d stand at his side and listen to him ramble. It was his turn to pick date night—and next week he would sit through whatever thing he couldn’t care less about for my sake. We both tried to choose activities that we both would enjoy, but Guy had really wanted to go to an art gallery I didn’t care much about and had agreed he’d do whatever I wanted to do next week.

Which meant next week we’d be going Frisbee golfing on the university campus.

I let Guy drag me from frame to frame, letting him monologue about the deeper meanings to be gleaned from each of the paintings while I nodded along.

After over an hour, I needed a break. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t wander too far or I won’t be able to find you.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” Guy teased.

I kissed the side of his head before letting go of his hand and wandering off to try and find the bathroom, peering at every facility sign I could see.

Eventually I found it. But it was unnecessarily far away.

—

Guy hummed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while he read a plaque.

“Hi there!” a voice said.

He jolted and whirled.

A girl was standing there, smiling, her hands behind her back while she leaned forward a little. She had on a bright, floral dress and ballet flats.

“Uh... hi,” Guy said.

“I’m Josie!”

“My name’s Guy.”

She stuck out a hand. Guy shook it.

The girl twisted back and forth where she stood. She was probably around his age, maybe a few years younger. “My parents painted most of these,” she said. “They do it together.”

“Oh. That’s so cool. Do you paint too?”

“A little. Nowhere near as good as they do. I’m more of a musician.” She pointed to the one next to the one he’d been reading. “That’s supposed to be me when I was a baby.”

Guy sidestepped over to it and studied it before skimming the plaque. Her name was on it. Our baby girl, Josie. The abstract work had some skin tones, but was mostly a bean-like shape of purples and pinks. If he squinted he could almost see the baby face sticking out of a blanket bundle.

“That’s fun,” Guy said.

“Do... do you like art?” Josie asked.

“As an observer, yeah. I can’t draw or paint to save my life,” he replied. “I just love to admire other people’s skill. And learn everything I can about whatever I can. I’m a writer. I like knowing things. You said you’re a musician?”

“Yeah. Strings, mostly. Violin, viola, cello, guitar, that kind of stuff. But also piano.”

“Oh cool! When did you start?”

“I started piano when I was six.”

“Me too! I didn’t last long, though. I couldn’t sit still to practice.”

Josie laughed.

Guy felt something heavy land on his shoulders and yank him.

—

I planted a firm kiss in Guy’s hair, trying my best not to glower too harshly at the pipsqueak in the dress. “What’d I miss?” I asked lowly.

“Hi honey! This is Josie. Her parents painted most of these!” Guy said.

“Cool,” I deadpanned.

“Josie, this is my partner.”

Josie looked up at me and smiled, but I saw intimidation in her expression. “H-hi,” she greeted.

“Hi.”

She looked back down at Guy. “I’ll let you get back to your... perusal. If you have any questions, feel free to come find me!”

“Thanks Josie!” Guy said brightly. The pixie girl wandered off.

I scoffed once she was out of earshot. “Thank God that’s over with,” I said. “I was getting sick of the flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Guy protested defensivey. “Honey, I would never—” He started with that voice that said he was gearing up for a monologue.

“I know you weren’t. She was,” I interrupted.

“I mean, I can’t say I blame her. Fine specimen that I am. But I only have eyes for—”

I cut him off by leaning and nibbling softly at his earlobe. “What do you say we go home and I can remind you who you belong to all over our apartment?” I whispered.

His whole body shuddered. “Okay,” he said. “I mean, you know me. I’m never one to pass up any opportunity like that when you make it that open-ended.”

I smirked. “Right answer. Maybe I’ll let you remind me who I belong to too. If you’re good.”

He purred. “Ooh. Say less, honey. Let’s get home!” He grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door.

—

Tag list: @darlin-collins

#Redacted ASMR #ficlet #Redacted Guy #Redacted Honey #Redacted Pizza Guy #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

[rubirenegade]

Experimenting with costume designs I might have preffered to the excellent work they did for The Lords In Black :)

(LONG POST WARNING: UNNECESSARY RAMBLINGS AHEAD)

I did find them enjoyable as heck and the performances were damn excellent, just wanted to try to imagine how I might have brought them to the stage to satiate my own desire for THE TERRIFYING LORDS IN BLACK

Clarification: I have zero stage experience so PLEASE, give me comments and ideas of your own to fix potential issues of my design, if this got your imagination going ❤️

Goals:

1. Maybe less comfy outfits, but not overbearing.

2. Closer to the dolls' design

3. Still on a budget: no crazy heavy dragging full suits like Ursula or Pinsir puppeteering.

4. Creep factor increase, meaning: Less visible faces! One of the creepiest traits for the lords is that they have no clear faces, making them uncanny and disturbing, lovecraftian and unreachable. Think the hive controlled people in tgwdlm or the giant spotlight eyes in Black Friday, gazing at you from a paranormal abyss.

5. Keep the things I liked in the originals, especially the acting.

Details:

1. Pokey: Singular Voice, keeper of many faces

having a mask under the mask he is holding will give him a more uncanny phantom-of-the-opera vibes and less visible facial expressions, leaving much to be desired

Also: more masks to cover his jacket, as his voice speak from many mouths.

Other idea: a Jacket made of realistic skins he stiched from faces (a bit much though, probably)

2. Tinky: horns is all you need

Curt's facial expressions are the exception to this "no face" concept. Just too damn good not to leave it as is. Goats horns will do as an addition, simple. Maybe face paint to have dark circles around his eyes, giving him a sleepless maniac vibes, could help- making his crazy eye looks stand out.

3. Wiggly: glowing eyes in the dark

The one I changed the most. I want to really FEEL the Wiggly from Black Friday. I want the glowing eyes in the dark, the creepy tentacles, the lack of a visible mouth under them.

A pair of glowing goggles will do, or two lightweight flashlights on some flashy headgear would do.

The mouth prosthetic might be a bit much, I'll admit. Maybe a mask, Scar-From-Twisted style, could work here just as well (again, this is a relatively short screen tim).

And claw hands and feet, for him to open all his deliciously loud screaming presents :) not critical, but adds dangerous vibes to our Wrath Fuel Frendy-Wend

4. Blinky: Eye think it should work

Big mask. Eye shaped. Done. (Again, Scar-masking could also work, probably even better)

(I assume that if its too hard to sing in the mask, another cast member could sing from backstage)

5. Nibbly: YUM YUM

Probably the hardest for me, it's just so damn good and Kim fucking nailed this. The giant lolipop and cutesie outfit are AMAZING and just easily floor me.

So, I went with simple facepaint to give her a giant mouth. Might not work in practice, but if they gave her a see through blindfold colored in her skin tone it might make her eyes vanish, leaving only the mouth to focus on. Maybe the hat goes town to shade her eyes instead. Anything to bring the mouth to the front and have the eyes disappear (decided now Im gonna painted that next)

Other ideas: blood smeared into a giant smile (might make mouth seem smaller though) or a realisticly painted giant mouth nask (which will make Kim's bite lifeless, so not a fan of it)

Conclusion:

I love these characters and brought my own idea of how to put them forth on screen to keep their lovecraftian horror vibes while keeping it realustic viable for a Starkid production. Hoped you liked it!

SUMMON US ONCE!

SUMMON US TWICE!

YOU GAMBLE IT ON THE ROLE OF THE DICE!

#starkid #nerdy prudes must die #lords in black #the lords in black #wiggog y'wrath #nibblenephim #pokotho #bliklotep #tnoy karaxis #wiggly #hatchetfield #the summoning #the black and white #go nighthawks

[wabart]

Would you ever do a tutorial on how to draw tit so well? you are a titmancer!

Thank you! 🧙‍♂️

getting used to the Shapes of masculine chest/arms/etc takes some time but tbqh it is sort of just rectangle with more chunks

sketch the body

hes a quick how-to for the front angle and how i sketch the pecs

and then I put together a colour palette: i believe skin tones are not just a "base" and then the "darker shadowy colour" and then the "highlight colour"; it is made of so many blue-green-purpley-yellow-orange tones you wouldn't think to include, and all of those together are what creates the illusion of one solid skin tone. Study from real life and use photo references as much as you need. Challenge yourself and get lots of practice! I make a palette from photos when i want to make sure I'm accurate. Here's an example:

In this, there's light, saturated tones and desaturated colourful ones in deep purples. I tried to get as many different-looking swatches as possible; when I paint, these will blend together and create hundreds of more colours on the canvas. Try to not over-swatch or you'll be sitting there for ages and be focused on perfection.

here, I'm getting the general shapes of shadows. In most real-life situations, shadows are not pure black, and highlights are not pure white. Of course, that isn't always true!

I'm not working from a photo reference in this because I am very very very very used to painting boobie but i REALLY recommend using one until you could do it blindfolded. I use references ALL the time, for colour and shape and lighting and angles I have trouble with. There is absolutely no shame in it; you are creating a strong foundation to draw from :)

I'm making it very stark so it's easy to see: the top "square" of both pecs is more shaded where it meets the collarbone. Notice how these bits of shadow don't touch; there's a highlight separating them. This creates the illusion of depth! Shading the body is all about shading the simple shapes plopped on top of eachother :)

I added purple to the underarms area; I find that adding a saturated colour fools the eye to think the shadows are more intense without needing to dip into a dark, instense palette. I blended out the colours on the pec to make them less stark: see how the general shape of shading versus shadow is the same on the left and right, but the left is more gentle. A lot of my technique is memorising What Stuff Goes Where; for example, the little triangle directly under the collarbone where it meets the shoulder. The collarbone itself is a strip of highlight, with that darker triangle directly underneath. This makes a HUGE!!! difference in how you perceive the shape.

As a general rule (with basic, diffuse lighting on the subject) I will do a strip of shadow along the bottom of the pec (ending a little above where the nip is at; this depends on how big the pec is. Someone with a smaller one will have a taller shadow!!) and then it is IMMEDIATELY a highlight in a kind of "U" shape. A lot of the form comes from choosing to blend slowly between dark and light versus putting darkness and lightness side-by-side. Practice and study photos and you will see what I mean, I promise!!

And there you have it!! The pec is just one part but it can really level up your apparent skill when you know how to draw or paint one to your standards. :)

Another quick tip: these general rules also apply to breasts, though the shadow at the top near the collarbone is far more gentle; that sharp shadow implies firmness and flatness.

And: when more at an angle, you can draw pecs quickly by doing this:

"the closer tit is dark around the edges" up beside "the right tit is highlighted on the edge"; the contrast between dark and light implies the two side by side :)

See, even without lineart, it implies Mounds:

I hope this is helpful!!!

#bug words #anon ask #tutorials #painting tutorial #my art #digital art

[sapienthouse]

[ID: 2 old digital drawings of Maximus. The first drawing is full-body, reminicent of MS paint drawings, and the other is a character sheet with a front and back full-body, two side portraits of her face, and a sketch of her skateboard, which depicts an open, toothy mouth across the entire underside. The character sheet has her name, her nickname "Maxie", their pronouns "She/her" and questioning "They/them" and both a nonbinary and lesbian flag. She smiles in both, mouth-closed in the first, and open with their tongue out in the second.

Appearance: Maxie is fat, with peach-tone skin, wide set eyes with contacts giving them horizontal pupils, short straight black hair, body hair on their arms and legs, dimples, and a wide flat nose. Her hair is shorter in the first drawing, the character sheet giving her a micro bob; they have short straight bangs in both.

They wear a black and white checkered shirt under a green cami with eyes on the chest, arrows pointing down on them with text reading, "my eyes are down here." Under both shirts, she wears a black turtle neck, and in the first it has long sleeves. She wears a beanie that says "Fuck teeth" in all caps; the first is green with bobbie pins held on it, and the second is lavendar. They have several facial piercings, ear gauges, and black Xs for eyebrows. They also wear lavendar fingerless gloves.

In the first drawing, they wear a black skirt under light-wash jeans, and in the character sheet she wears a big black hoodie around their waist under green capris. She wears black socks and green converse in both, the circle logos being lavendar in the first drawing. end ID]

-

OC-tober day 3❣️❣️ OGs remember my beautiful wonderful Maxie :-)!!!!! She's a 16 y/o living with her abuela and working at the local family-owned Snacks N' Gas gas station, who's owners have become like family to them, too. Their story (which can be found in my head) is all about community taking care of each other!

when she's not at school, she's either helping her grandmother, working at the gas station, or hanging out in and around the gas station. locals frequently see her practicing skate tricks with friends in the parking lot, and leaning over the counter with a breakfast burrito and a suicide slushie.

Their abuela and her have been family friends with Snack n' Go's staff since she was little, so they were quick to give her a job when she mentioned looking for one. They help take care of her when her grandmother's health declines, giving her extra cash, rides home when the weather's bad (she prefers skating), home cooked food (she may love those breakfast burritos but they are Not nutritious enough for a growing teenager!), and a place to feel like a kid. more Maxie trivia includes:

They're a celebrated member of their high school's robotics club, having helped turn a middling team into one that won state championships 3 years in a row. Battling bots are her favorite to work on!

After learning the tooth fairy didn't exist, they convinced their grandmother to let them keep their fallen teeth in a jar proudly displayed in her bedroom.

She's lefthanded and her eye color under the contacts are hazel

Favorite icecream flavors are mint chocolate chip and rocky road

Maxie should Really be wearing her glasses more often. They're bifocals, but she really only wears them like reading glasses

Deeply autistic about frogs, she could lead like. a week of lectures just about frogs, all from memory.

THAT'S my sweetsy :-)!!! I think I made her around 3 or 4 years ago? They won't be the oldest OC I talk about this month, but all the others need redesigning and she's the oldest i Never Stopped Thinking About yk? so she was just the most appropriate pick for today's "old OC" prompt 🫀🫀🫀

#my ocs #my art #oc-tober

[duckmine]

I've been really self conscious about my coloring abilities in digital art, can you maybe give some tips on that because your art looks amazing

of course!

some general tips i can give you with no specific order of method is: *filters, *what are complementary colors, *color picking, *hue direction on lighting and *layer blending modes to summarize what i’m covering here.

tip #1- feel free to mess around with filters. if you have a program with filters like brightness/contrast, hue/saturation, yada yada, value those tools to help you adapt better to understanding flattering coloring. sometimes you may color a piece and it feels super saturated or bright, use the filter tools to adjust it in a way that is less straining for you to look at but also still makes sense.

tip #2- practice identifying complementary colors. what colors work with red? blue, green, etc. what level of contrast/brightness should it be to help the red pop out more? these foundations will help you decide necessary colors for your palette, but try to keep it simple. and dw multiple colors of the same hue (section of the color wheel, like blue) count to, but try to keep it simple.

tip #2.5- you can also just copy off an official color palette if you ever need to, it’s also just helpful for accuracy.

tip #3 for shading, the hue of the lighting will tend to vary both based on position and environment. i wouldn’t worry too much about it but some general tips are, lighting will get gradually cooler the further it is to the darkest area of the shadow.

another general trick is if you don’t know what color to use for the shadow, warm tones like crimson or maybe the color of the skin are good for general lighting like day time or such. cooler tones like sky blue are good for stuff like closer to night time or a cool-lit room, etc. but again it also really depends on what looks good and benefits you.

oh yeah, for shading layers, i tend to switch between multiply and linear burn on blend layers. it just depends how intense i want the shading to be without having to directly go to the filter tool. multiply does general shadow building but linear burn helps emphasize shadows in darker colored areas, like a dark navy blue. again it depends on whatever i need. i also tend to use the add or glow dodge or linear light whatever is the brightness and most saturated blend mode on your program for highlighting certain areas. i typically use warmer colors for this unless it’s nighttime to which i’d use like a cyan.

these are really the main basics i’ve had in my coloring routine for a years that always helped me.

i hope these aren’t to confusing or broad, i would have drawn more examples but i’m kinda tired rn ^^. if you’d also like some recommendations i suggest looking into sinix design and his quick tutorial videos. marco bucci is also really good at coloring but there are really a lot of videos so i’d recommend colour harmony - 10 minutes to better painting. you don’t really need to start digitally painting but it’s just good fundamentals to learn about as it impacts cell shading as well.

#duck’s sillies #anon asks #art tips #also thank you!

[lovelynim]

TickleTober 2022/Day 2 - Drawn On

Eighty-Six - Theo x Shinen

Despite taking Theo a stupidly huge amount of effort, he managed to convice Shinen. All the other remaining members of the Spearhead Squadron agreed in letting the blonde practice some bodypainting technique he found while looking for art books, all but one. However, things were just about to change.

Shinen sighed, not exactly distressed, but also not the most excited person with the idea. He knew he should play along and it wouldn’t be bad to do something different, but as Raiden said on other occasions, Shin could be “a little grumpy” sometimes. 

Taking his jacket off, Shinen sat down, with his back turned to Theo, who was already waiting for the brunette. After all, he wouldn’t leave Shinen waiting for a single second because he couldn’t risk letting the boy change his mind.

Just like the rest of the squadron, they both agreed on painting the old Undertaker’s personal mark and, maybe under a symbolic reason, Shin chose his neck to be Theo’s canvas.

“I’m going to start now, ok?” Theo said, pulling the other shirt’s collar down a little to have a little more skin exposed.

“Alright, go on.” He answered, keeping his gaze distant as he let the other do as he pleased.

Theo couldn’t hold back the excited smile on his face. Nodding, he picked up the pencil, making sure it wasn’t too sharp, and decided to first trace some rough drafts and, later on, start making the outline of the mark. 

But things weren't really working as he planned. At the very first line, Shinen fliched, slightly scrunching up his shoulder.

“Sorry, did it hurt?” Theo asked with a pinch of worry.

“Not really.”

“I’ll keep going then, alright?”

“Mhm,” Shin hummed and the blonde couldn’t help to hear as he sighed again, as if trying to relax himself.

Placing his hand on the back of his colleague’s head to stretch, Theo decided to be a little more gentle while tracing over his neck. Maybe his skin was more sensitive around his scar, so he should be careful as he drew on him.

But Theo had barely managed to finish a circle before Shin started trembling. There definitely was something off about it.

“Shin?”

“Y-yes?” He huffed, coughing as he tried to ‘fix’ his voice tone, “is something wrong, Theo?”

“I need to hold still, I can’t finish the draft like this.”

“Sorry, it tickled,” he tried to admit as naturally as possible, maybe trying to not spark the other’s curiosity, but it was unavoidable.

“It what?” Theo gasped, even stopping for a moment.

“I’m not repeating myself,” Shin snapped back, letting out an embarrassed huff.

“Right… Just try to bear with me a little longer, okay? I won’t tell anyone,” Theo giggled quietly before resuming the drawing. 

Shinen closed his eyes shut as he tried to focus on something else, controlling his breath and letting his body as loose as possible. But as soon as Theo resumed, the feeling seemed much other than before.

“P-pfft- Theheheo- mhmph- it tihihickles…” The undertaker giggled, making the blonde slightly blush behind his back.

“”I know, but you are doing well…” Theo replied, trying to hold the other in place as he continued to brush the pencil over his friend’s neck, “I will be done in no time, trust me ~”

Just as predicted, the lines ended up as messed up as they could. Not a single straight line in sight and all the round ends were roughly sharped. Shinen struggled to not giggle during the whole process and they had to stop constantly to let the boy calm down before the blonde would resume drawing on his neck.

Despite the many obstacles in his way, Theo managed to make a nice (and rough) looking mark on the brunette’s neck. 

“Alright, we are done with the draft,” the boy cheered, placing the pencil down.

“Ah, so we are over?” 

“Ahm, not really. That was only the draft. I need to draw the final outline and paint it…” He explained and Shin could feel the pleading-puppy-eyes staring at his neck.

“Alright,” he sighed, biting his lip as he mentally prepared himself, “go on.” 

“Heh, as you say ~” Theo said, not really putting effort in making his tools feel less ticklish on his Shinen’s skin. After all, if he ever asked the blonde about it, he could easily claim it was all about making the artistic process more… enjoyable, for both of them.

A/N: Second day, let’s go! I always wanted to write something for them and I just have to say thank you for my dear friend @wertzunge​ for the hcs that inspired me to write this ~

#augtickletober2022 #tickletober2022 #eighty six #eighty six shinen #eighty six theo #eighty six tickling #anime tickling #tickle fic #ticklish!shinen #lee!shine #ler!theo

[yukipri]

Hi there, I'm so in love with your art is really stunning, I would like to know if you have any coloring tutorial or any tutorial/tips on color and lineart at all?

Thank you so much for liking my work!

Uh, so I don't really have the time to make full tutorials, but I post all of my WIPs on my Patreon so people can see some of my steps as I work!

As for general tips, "color and lineart" is very broad, so I can't really give you anything but incredibly broad responses. But to throw a few tips at you:

Color

Remember that color is oftentimes very subjective. There is no color that will look the same in every environment, and the human eye is very prone to interpreting things wildly (remember the striped dress...). Oftentimes, what's more important than the exact colors you choose are how they look proportional to other things in their environment. So if, say, someone is in a location with cold blue lighting, then their skin tone, which may naturally be tan, may look more purplish/gray, etc. Different surfaces will also reflect light differently; a dark fabric may not reflect light as much as, say, hard white armor or skin, and therefore the colors will also be different.

That's only if you're doing more environmental art of course, and idk what you're asking about specifically. It's entirely possible to do simplified art where there really isn't "lighting" per se. If you're ever stuck on how to make art look cohesive, try some pre-made color palettes! Sites like Coolors can be a great place for inspiration.

Also another general digital arts tip, but remember that digital art always looks different depending on the monitor. I always check how my art appears on my wacom mobile studio, where it tends to look more desaturated; my macbook pro (2014) where it tends to look more saturated; my iphone which is newer than my mac and looks even brighter. When I've seen my art on my mother's newer mac, it looks different there too. And if I were to print any of my art, that would look different too! (and also just, your eyes can see differently when you're tired. So my art looks different to me after an all nighter than after I get some sleep lmao) So just a thing to keep in mind!

Lineart

Have Patience. That's really the main thing. I used to be absolutely HORRIBLE at lineart, I couldn't really do it, and my sketches were "hairy" aff and looked terrible even when cleaned. If you scroll back far enough in my archive, you'll find them, lmao. Lineart takes a very, very long time to improve, years and years and years. I'm still working on it, will probably continue working on it the rest of my life. You won't get perfect lines overnight.

Generally, I find the tip to making sure lineart doesn't look flat is to think about line depth and variation. Not everything should be the same width. Lines that are where the shadow should be can be thicker. Ink in some shadows at the darkest corners even before colors. This advice, of course, works better if you have a more stylized lineart-based/comics based art style like I do, and should not be taken as general advice to be applied to every style. In fact, everything about lineart should take into consideration what you want the final art to look like. Will the lineart be stylistically prominent? Or hopefully look merged with the colors? Or is the lineart only a base for you to do your flats, which you'll eventually paint over?

In knowing you won't make perfect lineart overnight, it's okay to focus on improving parts. I did this by: 1) Slowly practicing doing cleaner sketches. The cleaner the sketch, the easier the lineart. Some people don't even need lineart bc their base sketch is clean enough. I am not there yet. 2) Practice doing "clean" lineart, but accept that it will take forever. If you practice enough, you will likely get faster. I used to spend 50~100 hours on lineart that I whittled down to ~10 hours, that I can now sometimes do in ~5 hours if I'm on a good roll. Took me around ten years, but eyyy progress??

Hope these tips helped! If you want advice on very specific things, I can try again, but this is the best I can say given your questions!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

#Anonymous #art tips #tips #YukiPri art #art tutorial #generally speaking more specific questions help me out more ;_; #bc I spent like an hour typing this but i have no idea if it's actually relevant to what you want to hear >.<;

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

ok sorry i dreamt this au up and I had to write this down. It’s seven and I need to go back to sleep so it may not be great but I needed to get it out.

TW: Kidnapping, isolation, explicit physical abuse and implied mental abuse, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, infantilisation, threats of terrorism, psychological warfare, betrayal

(Also, yes, the she/her pronouns for c!Quackity are intentional- I headcanon her as transfem)

——

“I- I think you're going to want to see this.”

Quackity looked halfway to throwing up, barely able to even look in President Ranboo's direction. Her grip was tight around a tape, and her eyes were reddening. There was no hint of her usual unflappable, confident demeanour- the cocky grin usually painting her face was gone, her hair and clothes a mess. Ranboo had never been too close to her- not that they didn’t like each other, but they were colleagues, not friends- but even from that seeing Quackity like this was so jarring, so wrong, that they didn’t even entertain the idea that this was anything but urgent.

“What's it about?”

“National security threat. Enemies to L'Manburg. Potential terrrorist action.” She paused for a long, long moment, taking a glance at Tubbo before looking away again, more queasy than ever. “… Tommy.”

Tubbo's expression hardened at that, but he squeezed tightly onto Ranboo's arm. “Show us, then.”

Shaking slightly, Quackity placed the tape into one of the viewers, hesitating to press play. “Tubbo, I… I think you should leave.” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “It's-“

“I'm staying,” Tubbo insisted. “I need to- it’s a matter of national security, isn’t it? I'm not some clueless sixteen year old now, bossman. I can handle it.”

Quackity opened her mouth, before settling on sighing, reluctantly turning the video on. Grainy, hand-recorded footage started playing, like one recorded on a communicator, showing what appeared to be a child's bedroom in soft red tones, a central figure curled up on the bed. Curly long hair, a mix of pale blond and pure white, covered their face, and they were wearing soft pyjamas, a trail of bruises and scars peaking out of wherever their clothes didn't conceal. Something metal was looped around one of their ankles.

“Hey, c'mon,” a voice- Dream, Ranboo vaguely recognised- said, clearly from whoever was recording. That enough was bizarre- Dream had vanished years ago, not long after Tommy did. Ranboo never knew the two of them well, but their husband spoke highly of them, so he had them both mentally marked down on his list of alright people. “We're recording now. Stop being so difficult.”

A pale hand tilted up the figures chin until they were looking at the camera. Their eyes were ghostly white, and they still had the baby fat that Ranboo and Tubbo had long since lost. Their facial features were muddied by more bruising, more scars, but they felt vaugely familiar in the worst way. Their expression was chillingly blank.

Dream sighed. “Aren't you going to smile for the camera, Tommy?”

Tubbo gasped, gripping tightly onto Ranboo's arm that it’d leave bruises, not that Ranboo really minded. “Surely- surely not-“ he whispered, burying his face into Ranboo's side, leaving it very wet.

The figure- no, Tommy, though Ranboo still could barely recognise him as such, eyes too dark and lacking that spark they always had, skin too pallid, and not looking a day older than in photographs from four, five, six years ago- forced a grin that didn't reach his eyes. The hand ruffled Tommy's hair in a way that reminded Ranboo of how they ruffled Micheal's hair, and suddenly they could understand the nausea of Quackity. They never knew Tommy all that well, but he was practically family to the rest of the L'Manburgians. The idea of someone in Ranboo's own family being treated like this didn't bear thinking about.

There was a pause, before Dream spoke again. “Hey, do you remember your lines? You're doing so well.”

There was a look of what seemed to be genuine happiness in Tommy's eyes at that for a split second, which somehow felt worse than the fake smile that he had on. He paused for a second, before speaking, his words careful like he'd practiced them again and again and again.

“The nation of L'Manburg has stood for too long, a symbol of tyranny against the peaceful past.” The words were completely emotionless, so clearly not his own, and the effect was eerie. “Over the years we have left for you to redeem yourself, you have only festered and rotted further. You might think yourself powerful, but you will lose against us. You don’t know what we're capable of. We will liberate you on August the Sixteenth. Any civilians who surrender will be spared. Ranboo and… Tubbo…” Tommy paused for a second after saying that, flinching violently like expecting a blow “If you both surrender, then there will be no need for the destruction that will follow if you continue to disobey.”

There was a brief pause, before Tommy glanced up at Dream. “Did I do it right?”

There was laughter, chillingly warm, almost kind. It reminded Ranboo of the type of laughter he and Tubbo would have when Micheal did something endearing. “You did so well Tommy. I'm so proud-“

The video abruptly cut off, and the three of them were left in silence for a long, long time.

Tubbo was the first to speak. “I'm going to kill that green bastard. I- I thought he was my friend. I trusted him! I trusted him when he said Tommy was… was… and what? Has he been keeping him fucking locked up this whole time? All this time, I could have tried to do something, tried to find him, and… fuck. I- we can't surrender, right? You don’t believe him, right?”

Ranboo grimaced. “I don’t know. I want him dead as much as you do, but I have to think about the nation-“

“And who's to say he won’t treat all of us like he did to Tommy if we do so, huh?” Tubbo shrunk into himself after that. “I- I apologise, for getting emotional-“

“No, no, you're right.” Quackity interjected, voice still quiet and shakey but with a determination to it. “I know we don’t want to think about it, but how Tommy was acting… he's fucking brainwashed, man. Who's to say that bullshit ‘peaceful past’ won’t involve us going through the same? You can’t consider it. You can't.”

Ranboo's voice was quiet, and he doubted himself as he spoke. “What else can we do?”

#my writing #dream smp #dsmp #primeboys (derogatory) #dream smp writing #dsmp writing #tw kidnapping #tw isolation #tw abuse #tw manipulation #tw Stockholm syndrome #tw infantilisation #tw threats of terrorism #tw psychological warfare #tw betrayal

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

I love your custom dolls! How did you get into remaking Barbie dolls?

Thank you! I'm glad you like them! This is actually a multi layered answer since there were several factors that got me into this hobby.

When I was a teenager I became a fan of media that doesn't get a lot of affordable merch, at least in the US. Especially Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy. I really wanted action figures of my favorite heroes, but the import fees put them WAY out of my budget. I was like "man I wish I could just make this stuff for myself". But there wasn't any real guidance on how to do that.

Then. The 2020 pandemic. I needed something to do. I had an abundance of free time and finally found tutorials on YouTube showing how to customize dolls! By that point I was an adult who finally had both some budget and had gathered artistic skills in painting and sculpting. I got a bunch of dollar store knockoff Barbies and started practicing. Once I honed my skills I moved on to buying specific dolls to get the articulation and details I wanted for each character. I also recycled several of my well-loved childhood Barbies into new characters.

It's my favorite art medium at the moment because it combines so many other skills I have: painting, sculpting, sewing, etc. I prefer Barbie because it's a more realistic looking doll line but it's still commonly available-- a lot of doll artists prefer Monster High or Rainbow High because they're easier to work with, but I don't like the exaggerated proportions as much. Plus Barbie's new diversity means it's easier for me to get different skin tones or body types for characters.

My favorite thing to do is to make my own figures of characters I like, especially since I have the ability to make them as screen- accurate as I want! That rare outfit variant that never made it to the official merch line? Yep, I can make that for them! I've also made a self portrait doll and have worked on a few to look like family or friends.

It's a super fun hobby! Some people think it's weird I'm "playing with dolls" at my age, but it's a great creative exercise I think many would enjoy!

#asks #asks answered #custom doll #custom dolls #hobby #original post

[yuriko-mukami]

((Please, give me some Rukiko fluff 😤

How about... 🤔 The two were invited by Karlheinz to a ball and are getting ready for it together. Yuriko helps Ruki to tie his tie. And then they practice a few dance steps in their room as the moonlight shines on them. 🥺🙏🏻))

(( Of course, honey~ You can always ask for fluff… or any other kind of Rukiko story/scene of your liking~ Also, thank you for this ask. I totally was in the mood to write something fluffy and romantic 🥰

Here is the dress. I’m ashamed to admit that I used a good amount of this day only to choose it… 🙈 I do hope that Ruki is satisfied with the choice. 

Getting Ready Together

Moonlight painted the front yard of the Mukami manor with silvery tones as Yuriko squeezed the window frame slightly, her heart bouncing toward her throat as the fact started to sink in. Was she truly ready for this?

The invitation arrived a couple of weeks ago. Seeing a bat familiar carrying a letter wasn’t anything big these days, more like it always reminded Yuriko of the first letter Ruki had sent her. That too had made her heart skip a beat but for a very different reason. Back then she had been flustered; now her body was made of tingling nerves.

This was Karlheinz. The vampire king who Yuriko had met once before. A beautiful yet intimidating man; there was something scary in his aura and scent. He made the alarm bells in Yuriko’s mind ring loudly. Yet she knew that this man was a very important person for Ruki, and Yuriko was grateful to him too. Without Karlheinz, she couldn’t have met the love of her life. No matter how afraid of the man she was, she respected him at least for that fact. 

And that meant Yuriko shouldn’t fail tonight. She had to be on her best, stand on Ruki’s side, and…show that she was worth being there.

“Umh… of course… I’m nervous. I… I want everything to go smoothly…”

I don’t want to ruin this for you. I want Karlheinz-sama to see that I’m suitable to be with you…

But those words never left Yuriko’s mouth. She felt cold fingers on her bare shoulders. They sent shivers through her and covered her with goosebumps for a moment before she turned around and met a concerned steel-blue gaze that measured her from head to toe.

Suddenly Yuriko was painfully aware that she hadn’t worn this kind of dress before. It felt so official. The wide and light hem was tickling her ankles, almost touching her toes, making her wonder if she truly could dance in it without stumbling on her own feet. Or Ruki’s. That would be so embarrassing! 

Ruki took his time fixing the straps of the dress carefully, his fingers passing over the slightly faded bite marks on Yuriko’s shoulders. The mere thought that everyone could see those made her cheeks burn but maybe the eyes wouldn’t be fixated on her skin when she was wearing something this beautiful. The light blue color of the dress went perfectly together with the sky-blue tips of her hair and the leaf ornament of the top part made her think about a dream forest.

“Umh… beautiful...? Really?” 

Ruki’s compliment only made Yuriko’s cheeks flare even more. She shifted a little, pondering how she could pull through tonight.

Okay, focus… focus… It’s not that difficult. You don’t need to talk much. Just stay with Ruki and keep your distance from other vampires. Smile a lot and let him lead while dancing. That’s it.

Glancing at Ruki, Yuriko couldn’t hide her smile. He looked good, as usual, but seeing him in a suit still caused a tiny jolt in her. When he leaned in for pecking her lips, her fingertips ached to grab the collar of his blazer and press herself closer for a deeper kiss, the kind that would swipe feed under them both… but Yuriko knew that this was not a time for such a kiss, so she simply sighed and sniffed slightly, bathing for a moment in the pleasant musky scent that surrounded her.

“You are… umh… still missing your tie,” Yuriko noticed, tugging the collar of Ruki’s shirt hastily. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious that she waited for the moment they could get back home more than the ball itself. “Yes… yes, Master. I can help you with it.”

Fingers quivering, Yuriko took the black tie. She stepped closer to Ruki again. Lifting his collar a little, she placed the tie and measured it carefully before starting to tie it. The musky scent if Ruki's was a bit stronger in her nose, luring her in but she did her best to resist its calling. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted. Focusing as well as she could, her small fingers worked, fastening the tie for Ruki. When she was ready, he put his hand on hers, and slowly they pushed the knot a bit further up together. 

Somehow the way he uses his school uniform’s tie intrigues me more… but this looks good too. So formal…

“I… I… fear that I misstep or something like that. I know we practiced dancing but it still isn’t my strong suit… and there are so many people there and I’m nothing —”

A finger sealed shivering lips. Ruki leaned in, his mouth brushing Yuriko’s earlobe as he whispered directly into her ear, the tone of his voice making her tremble inside. Tiny waves sailed through her body as the words embraced her.

“You… you would review the steps with me…?”

As soon as the sentence left Yuriko’s lips, Ruki enveloped his arm around her waist, taking her left hand into his right one in the dim bedroom. Swallowing, Yuriko lifted her right arm, placing her hand on Ruki’s shoulder.

The steel-blue eyes caught the teal ones, hand holding another ever-so-gently as Ruki took the first step. Yuriko gasped but her feet followed instinctively. The swaying movement took over; it was surprisingly easy simply to let Ruki lead, surrender to the rhythm, and drown in his eyes while doing so as if there wasn’t anything else in the world than they and this moment.

Ruki guided them near the window, slightly bending Yuriko backward. The moonlight brushed her face as he swayed her back up into his embrace. Bluish silver washed over everything when cold hands suddenly cupped her cheeks and tender lips conquered hers.

“Umh… yes, I think I’m ready…” Yuriko whispered against Ruki’s mouth. But I’ll look forward to the moment you bring me back to this room and I can have you all for myself…

(( I hope you liked this... I really don't know how well I was able to write it... but now my only regret is that I don't have a drawing of them dancing in the moonlight. They would look so good!

#ask ruki mukami #ruki mukami #yuriko tsukino #rukiko #diabolik lovers #diabolik oc #fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfiction

[blitzendoggo]

5 Times Mercury Was a Flirt (+1 Time He Was Flirted With)

Captain Mercury is an overly friendly man. In most cases, this is a good thing, but when your entire friend group thinks you're flirting with them, there is a small issue.

In this AU, Godforce doesn’t happen, and Canyon is a “good” murder hobo.

Captain Mercury/S.G. Iguess, Captain Mercury/Mr. Goodbid, Captain Mercury/Glib Murphy, Captain Mercury/Mystery of the Canyon (5115 words)

~~

1) S.G.

“S.G.!” Mercury calls the moment they step on the ship. “Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?” They ask as the rest of their party boards the ship dispersing across the deck.

Mercury waltzes up to them, crushing them into a tight hug before releasing them, standing a little closer than he normally does. “You weren’t with the others for the last two missions! I was worried about you!”

“Worried about me?” they ask, suddenly very thankful that changelings can’t blush easily.

“Yeah, I heard you were sick,” the captain says with large worried eyes. “I’m glad you’re feeling better!” His smile is blinding and warm.

S.G. is wordless for a moment before sheepishly saying, “Yes, well, I had caught Goblin Fever from a group of bandits we fought. Prophis wouldn’t let me come on any missions until I was over it.”

“So, it’s him I have to blame?” Mercury teases before taking a more serious tone. “I’ve caught that before. It’s right awful with the shakes and the dazedness. I’m glad you made it out alright.” There’s a moment’s pause before he says, “I’d even argue that you look better than ever after it if that’s even possible!”

“I Do?”

Mercury nods. “Yeah, your skin is practically glowing,” he says with a sweet smile, tilting his head to the side as admires the shorter.

“I love flattery, but there’s no need,” they titter.

“But I mean it!” Mercury laughs, gesturing widely with his hands. “You always look so pretty! I’m beginning to suspect magic is at play,” he teases.

S.G. shakes their head, a blush certainly painting their face. “No magic, just me.”

“Smooth, S.G., smooth,” Glib teases from across the deck.

“Shut up!” they snap, sending a glare his way before looking back at the merman.

Mercury laughs, not having heard the exchange between the friends. “Really? You’re not hiding some sort of charm under that hood?”

“No, why would I hide anything under the hood?” S.G. responds automatically, naturally bad at flirting. From somewhere else on the ship, they hear the boys snicker and the changeling makes a mental note to Psychic Lance the three of them when they get the chance.

“So no one would learn your secret,” Mercury counters easily. He reaches up and stops his hand just next to the edge of their hood. “May I?”

“Sure,” they squeak.

The captain gently pulls the hood back, smoothing the purple fabric. He studies their face, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, my apologies for the accusations.”

“Why? Do you think I’m not pretty?” the changeling challenges, a ball of anxiety forming in their stomach.

Mercury laughs a high, warm sound. “No, because clearly, your beauty is natural.”

“Oh,” they squeak, voice becoming steadily higher the longer they stand near the merman.

“So, I apologize for accusing you of using magic,” he continues with a smile, not paying any mind to the fact that S.G. has become a red mannequin.

Mercury does not move from their personal space as his hand lingers around their neck, idly playing with the fabric of their hood. He smiles so kindly and S.G. is certain that this is how they die.

“Apology accepted,” they say breathlessly.

“Ya know, with the way your face blushes,” he says lowly, dropping his head down to be next to the changeling’s ear, “I’d love to see how the rest of looks.” He ghosts his fingers across their collar while the other runs up their arm.

S.G. fully freezes, completely unable to respond as their brain comes to a screeching halt. Their brain is running impossibly fast while also being completely silent, but Mercury does not mind as he leans back and admires the suddenly dark blush that paints the changeling’s face.

Thankfully, before S.G. can say anything too embarrassing, Canyon slides up next to the Captain, drawing his attention away from the slowly dying changeling.

“Hiya, fish boy!” he says, clapping Mercury on the shoulder.

“Canyon!” the captain cheers. “I was just talking to S.G. here!”

Canyon gives S.G. a once over, a smirk on his face. “I can tell.”

Mercury tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

The tabaxi snickers. “Nothing,” he says while shaking his head before loudly saying, “When are we leaving for Bowenburg?”

“Oh, well, right now, I suppose,” he says with a chuckle. He flashes S.G. that same blinding smile. “Can’t keep the lovely people waiting, can we?”

“No,” they choke out.

With a laugh, Mercury walks back to the helm, a skip in his step as he whistles a familiar sailing tune.

Canyon waits until the merman is out of earshot before saying, “You’re shit at flirting.”

They smack him on the back of the head, knocking the cat man forward as he laughs.

*

2) Goodbid

To say Goodbid was having a bad day, would be an understatement. He’s had two contracts go sour; his suit effectively ruined from a combination of holes, blood, and wine stains; a hit nearly escaped; and his beloved bottom hat has a hole the size of Glib in it. All within the last twelve hours. And if Goodbid had to rank how bad this day was compared to the other seven days of this week? It is probably in third place.

He stands on Sky Skimmer’s top deck, leaning heavily against the rails as he watches the world rush by. Mercury had been kind enough to pick him up from his solo mission in Abellio and fly him back to Riftreach.

“You look like hell, mate,” the aforementioned captain says from behind him.

“Bad week,” the hitman replies simply, not in the mood for their normal playful banter.

The merman leans against the railing next to Goodbid, a little closer than the hitman was expecting. “Anything I can do to help?” he asks, leaning closer to the half-elf, glancing at his lips as he does.

“Uh, I don’t believe so,” Goodbid says, the tension in the air increasing tenfold.

Wordlessly, Mercury reaches up, his fingers grazing up the businessman’s neck before using his thumb to smooth his mustache into place while he cups his jaw.

“Mercury?” Goodbid asks breathlessly and only slightly panicked.

Mercury slowly looks away from his mouth and makes heavy eye contact. “Sorry, mate, it was sticking up all weirdly,” he says lowly, not removing his hand from his face.

Goodbid swallows. “It’s alright.” He can feel the blush running up his neck and settling high on his cheeks.

Mercury traces the blush down his neck with his fingers, stopping at the hitman’s stained collar.

“You’re hurt?”

It takes Goodbid an embarrassing few seconds to register what is being said to him.

“Just a few cuts, nothing I can’t handle,” he says, with a shaky smile as he desperately holds onto what’s left of his dignity.

Mercury runs the tips of his fingers along the largest of the stains before bringing them to his face. His tongue darts out and licks the thin red liquid off his fingers before grinning at Goodbid. “You taste like wine.”

The hitman makes a choked noise. “I- uh- had a jug of- um- wine dumped on me. Yeah,” he sputters, running a hand through his hair as he looks away.

Mercury places a hand on Goodbid’s cheek and forces him to look him in the eye. “Are you telling me that you have wine spilled over open wounds and you didn’t clean them?” Mercury asks with mild annoyance.

“I- well, I-” He coughs looking down before saying, “I don’t got spare clothes on here and I was gonna wait until I got home.”

“I have clothes you can borrow,” Mercury says dismissively. He steps back and Goodbid takes a shuttering breath. “Are you coming?” Mercury teases as he walks to the captain’s quarters.

The hitman nearly trips over himself as he scrambles to keep up.

The captain's quarters are decorated in deep greens and blues with a messy dark wood desk along one wall and a beautiful bed in the center of the far wall.

“Just sit on the bed and take off your shirt,” Mercury instructs as he walks over to a drawer and pulls out a med kit. Goodbid unbuttons his shirt slowly, wincing as the motions pull at the cuts on his chest. When Mercury turns around he looks over Goodbid’s freshly exposed chest with interest.

“Enjoying the view?” Goodbid teases, rolling his shoulders back before wincing at the subsequent pain.

Mercury snickers at him as he hands over a minor healing potion. “Drink this while I patch you up.”

The potion doesn’t taste pleasant, but it is a welcomed distraction from Mercury's cool hands touching his bare chest as he cleans the wounds with a wet rag before moving to cleaning them with rubbing alcohol.

Goodbid hisses, grabbing onto Mercury’s shoulders as he cleans out a cut that was borderline infected.

“That’s it,” Mercury murmurs, clearly not paying attention to his own words. “You’re doing good, almost done.”

Goodbid makes a noise in the back of his throat, this time not from the cleaning, as Mercury continues to whisper praises while he wraps the cuts tightly. The merman steps back to admire his handy work before going over to a trunk and pulling out a clean shirt. He starts to hand Goodbid the shirt before pulling it back, clearly contemplating something.

“What? Am I not allowed to have a shirt?” Goodbid teases.

“Let me put it on you,” Mercury answers as he steps closer.

The injured man sputters. “Pardon?”

“You’ll strain yourself trying to pull it over your head,” he explains easily as he stands in front of the other. “Lift your arms a little.”

Goodbid does as he’s told, pointedly ignoring the bright red blush painting his face. Mercury easily pulls it onto him before smoothing it down the hitman’s chest. Before either of them can say anything, the boards under their feet rumble.

“Sky Skimmer’s tellin’ me to go back up to steer her,” the captain explains apologetically. “She’s sayin’ we’re almost to port.”

“It’s alright,” Goodbid says with his signature grin, although on the inside he is more than a little annoyed at the interruption.

Mercury disappears out the door, calling, “Stay put, don’t strain yourself!” over his shoulder as he goes. Goodbid sits in a stunned silence as he tries to make sense of everything that just happened. By the time he’s made any progress, the merman pokes his head in with a smile that damn near kills the hitman where he sits. “We’re here.”

Goodbid nods as he stands. “When do you want this shirt back?”

Mercury approaches him slowly and runs his fingers along the hem of the shirt before he gives Goodbid a knowing smile. “Keep it,” he says as he steps back, “It looks good on you.”

Goodbid’s blush returns with a vengeance as the captain goes back out of the room, leaving the poor hitman reeling.

*

3) Glib

The frogman sits alone in the storeroom of Sky Skimmer. He’s starving and desperately trying to keep his thoughts away from anything to do with eating which he is failing at rather spectacularly. Glib groans, running a hand over his face.

The clicking of approaching steps draws him out of his thoughts.

“Everything okay, mate?” Mercury asks as he walks past, carrying a crate that easily weighs as much as the merman.

Glib gives him the signature unamused glare as he says, “No.”

Mercury places the crate in its place before sitting on it and looking over at Glib. “What’s wrong then?”

“I’m really fuckin’ hungry. I forgot to eat before getting on this stupid fucking’ ship,” he growls before wincing and saying, “No offense.”

Mercury chuckles, patting the crate. “Nontaken, but if you’re hungry I have rations.”

Glib shakes his head. “Can’t have normal food,” he dismisses quickly. “Vampire, remember?” He flashes his fangs to prove the point.

Mercury watches his fangs with apt interest. “Do you not have any rations?”

“Not unless you happen to carry blood,” Glib says irritatedly. He buries his face in his hands as he groans. He is the King of Hangry and desperately wants to be left alone.

Mercury is silent for a moment before saying, “You could drink from me.”

“What?” Glib’s head snaps up in shock, staring at the merman in disbelief. Surely, he didn’t just say that, surely he misheard.

“Unless you don’t like drinking from live sources,” the sailor backpedals quickly.

“No, I do,” Glib says slowly, confusion lacing every word, “But why are you offering.”

Mercury stands up, his wooden legs creaking as he does. “You are hungry, and you don’t have rations.” With every step, he is getting closer to Glib. “As your captain, it is my job to make sure you are provided for.” His voice is low as his hands trail up to the laces holding his shirt closed.

“You’ll lose a lot of blood,” Glib says quickly, eyes tied to the movement.

“I have healing potions.” He pulls the string out.

“It could kill you,” Glib says a little more desperately as his mouth waters.

The merman chuckles. “You won’t kill me.” His eyes are half-lidded as he looks down on Glib, completely confident in him.

“It’ll make you too dizzy to steer,” Glib says in a last-ditch effort to make Mercury come to his senses.

“Sky Skimmer’s a living ship, and besides-” he pulls his shirt to the side, revealing his suntanned, freckled shoulder. “I’ve always liked that feeling.”

Glib gulps, but his eyes do not leave the bare skin. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” Mercury leans closer until his shoulder is closer to Glib’s mouth. “Bite me, Glib.”

And Glib does. He drinks, savoring the delicious liquid before forcing himself back after a minute. He doesn’t want Mercury to drop.

“Done already?” Mercury groans as he pants lightly. At some point, he had leaned further forward and had grabbed ahold of the crate Glib was sitting on. His knuckles were white with how tightly he was grasping it.

“Don’t want to kill you,” Glib says through his fogged brain.

Mercury smiles. “Aw, that’s too bad. It was just starting to get fun.” He leans closer to Glib’s face and uses his thumb to wipe a bit of blood off of the frog’s lip. “But I need to get back to the stern.”

He steps back and walks to the door, straightening his shirt as he goes.

“Oh, and Glib?” He says over his shoulder as he stops in the doorway.

“Yeah?” the frog asks, still reeling from the entire experience.

“If you need a snack, you know where to find me.” Mercury smiles and winks before disappearing through the door, leaving Glib extremely confused and just a little hungry.

*

4) Canyon

In hindsight, going drinking with a man Canyon had never once seen drunk might have been a mistake. He had assumed that Mercury would have a high tolerance seeing as he’s a sailor, but he could not have been more wrong.

Here Mercury was, half draped across the cat man, drunkenly singing “What Can We Do With a Drunken Sailor” while petting the Tabaxi as the aforementioned cat man tries to get them both to Sky Skimmer.

“Way-hay and up she rises, Ear-lye in the morning!” he slurs, throwing his hands up in the air. “Put ‘em in bed with-” he trails off, trying to remember the lyrics.

“Captain’s daughter,” Canyon supplies.

Mercury laughs before shouting, “Tabaxi man!” He looks up at Canyon with a grin. “Put ‘em in bed with a tabaxi man! Put ‘em with a tabaxi man! Ear-lye in the morning!”

“Are you trying to get me into bed with you?” Canyon teases, readjusting his hold on the merman which just happens to drop his hand lower on Mercury’s waist.

Mercury laughs but does not answer as he sings the chorus, Canyon joining in after a minute. They cackle and carry on as they stumble down the street, Sky Skimmer in sight.

“What’s the next lyric, Merc?” Canyon asks once his laughter has died down.

The Captain thinks for a moment before grinning madly as he says, “Make him kiss the roguish man!” At first, Canyon thinks he’s misheard the Captain, but then he repeats it. “Make him kiss the roguish man!”

“Make him kiss the roguish man?” the cat asks without the song cadence.

“Ear-lye in the morning!” Mercury finishes while laughing. He sobers slightly as he asks, “What time you say it is?” He looks up at the dark sky.

Sky Skimmer spots them and she happily waves her sails before lowering a plank for them to walk up. Mercury mumbles a thanks as they step onto the deck.

Canyon glances up at the sky, trying to spot the moon as he navigates the drunk man to his quarters. “I don’t know, probably three or four in the morning?”

Mercury grins widely before pressing his face into Canyon’s cheek. “So it's ‘ear-lye in the morning’?”

“It is,” the tabaxi says slowly.

“And I’m a drunken sailor?” Mercury continues, leaning harder into Canyon,

“You are,” Canyon agrees with a smirk.

“Are you a roguish tabaxi man?”

Canyon snickers. “I am.”

“Then I demand a kiss ear-lye this morning,” Mercury declares, kissing Canyon’s cheek before stumbling backward, hand locked around the tabaxi’s wrist. “And for you to come to bed with me!”

“Mercury you’re drunk,” Canyon laughs, following behind him.

The merman nods. “I’m a drunken sailor!”

“And that’s why I can’t go to bed with you,” Canyon says digging his heels into the ground.

“Aww,” Mercury pouts at him.

Canyon chuckles. “If you remember any of this in the morning, I’ll be more than happy to take you up on your offer,” he says, running his claws through Mercury’s disheveled hair.

Mercury makes a pitiful noise before sighing dramatically. “Fine.”

Canyon steps back, flashing Mercury a smile. “Night, Merc, and good luck with your hangover!” he says as he walks off the ship. He faintly hears a slurred response followed by stumbling steps into the captain’s quarters. Canyon snickers to himself as he wanders back through the streets before he begins to hum “Drunken Sailor.”

*

5) All of them

“Mornin’ guys!” Mercury shouts from the helm as he steers Sky Skimmer to the edge of Symmetris Tower. The Party yells back varying responses before boarding. “Where to?”

“Wanuia, if ya believe!” Goodbid says far too chipperly for this early in the morning, as he boards the ship, the rest tiredly lumbering behind him.

Mercury turns the ship and sets her on a straight shot for his old city before walking down to talk with the party. “Wanuia, ‘ey? What business you got up there?” he asks.

“Rumors of some sort of powerful necromancers wandering the outskirts and tormenting people,” Glib explains, tugging his hood down over his eyes as Sky Skimmer emerges from clouds, the morning sun casting long shadows over the deck.

“Why send you guys and not Symmetris Agents?” the Captain asks.

“Prophis made us one of the highest-ranking Symmetris squadrons,” Canyon explains as he stretches, still trying to shake the sleep from his system, and smoothes down his hair which is sticking up oddly.

S.G. nods. “It was meant to be an honor but all it's done is mean that we can’t commit crimes and have to work for the government,” they gripe.

“But it pays handsomely,” Goodbid says with a grin.

“It does pay nice, yes,” S.G. agrees. “But I would like to steal again.”

“Why don’t you quit?” Mercury asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog.

The changeling makes a sour face while the boys snicker. “Callisto said if I quit to commit crimes he will arrest me on sight.”

There is a beat of silence before the merman belly laughs. “Of course he did, why wouldn’t he?”

“Yes, it was quite rude of him,” S.G. grumbles.

“Alright, well,” Mercury begins as he tries to regain composure. “How long do I need to wait on you guys? Do I have time to run a delivery from Abellio to Riftreach and back to Wanuia or will you be done by that point?”

“We’ll be done by then,” Glib answers.

“Yeah, they seem like normal necromancers,” Canyon adds once he doesn’t look like a toddler’s stuffed animal. “Won’t take us more than like two, three hours.”

“So we’ll the rest of the day to kick it at the beautiful Wanuaian beaches!” Goodbid says, pantomiming lounging on a beach.

“You’ll be at the beaches, I’ll be hiding somewhere dark,” Glib gripes.

Mercury shakes his head. “There are beaches that are hidden in alcoves. They are warmed by the mornin’ sun, but by noon the sun is off of them! The water is clear, the sand is warm, but the sun is gone,” the Merman says, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Really?” Glib questions, clearly trying to keep the hopeful tone from his voice.

“Absolutely! They were my favorite growin’ up because no one else likes them. Most people go to Wanuia to sun tan, but those hidden beaches are nice,” Mercury says with a charismatic grin.

“We’ll have to find somewhere that sells swimsuits first,” Canyon points out. “The only one here who might have one is Goodbid.”

“Would ya believe I actually don’t?” Goodbid asks.

“No, I don’t,” the tabaxi counters sarcastically.

Mercury makes a confused expression. “Why would you need a swimsuit?”

“Because we’ll be swimming?” Canyon answers.

“Yeah, not all of us are merfolk,” Goodbid teases.

“I could be,” S.G. says cockily.

Glib gives them a tired expression. “We know, S.G.”

“I can be anything I want.”

“We know S.G.”

“I know you aren’t merfolk,” Mercury says, drawing attention back to the original point. “But why would you need swimsuits?”

The group glances at each other.

“Because that’s what you wear when you are swimming?” Glib says, confusion lacing his words.

“Yeah, but it’ll just be the five of us,” Mercury still not understanding.

“The five of us swimmin’,” Goodbid emphasizes.

“Yeah, but if it's just us, why not just skinny dip?” Mercury finally spits out, eyebrow raised.

“Skinny dip?!” Goodbid yelps as Glib says, “Excuse me?!” and S.G. squeaks, “What?!” There’s a beat of silence before Canyon starts laughing.

“Yeah, guys, let’s just skinny dip!” he says, nudging Mercury with his elbow.

Mercury smiles at him. “See, he gets it.”

“Mercury, I love ya, man, but I ain’t skinny dippin’,” Goodbid says quickly before Canyon can dig their graves anymore.

“Why not? I’m sure it’d be fine,” the merman says. “Besides, you’ll be seeing all of me, only fair if I see all of you.” He pauses before grinning as he adds lowly, “It's more fun that way.”

S.G. chokes on air, Goodbid flushes to the tips of his ears, and Glib’s jaw drops, but Canyon just nods slowly.

“Maybe next time, dude,” Canyon says. “Gotta give them time to prepare.”

“So you’ll be skinny dipping with me then?” the merman asks hopefully.

The others yell varying rejections over the sound of Canyon’s laughter. None of them notice Mercury’s confused face.

*

+1

Mercury really didn’t see anything wrong when the group suddenly has a fifth member. He finds it a little odd that it is a shadar-kai who looks older than dirt with no eyes, but his friends are an odd group so he just waves it off and welcomes the old man aboard the ship.

“Alright, crew!” He calls to the deck as he pulls Sky Skimmer away from Bowenburg. “Where to?”

“Riftreach!” Glib yells as Goodbid calls up, “Home!”

Mercury laughs. “Homeward bound!” He steers the ship for a moment, making sure they were on a straight enough shot before looking back over the deck and noticing how ill the old man looks. He slows the ship to a more reasonable speed and the shadar-kai relaxes slightly.

Canyon bounds up behind him, putting his hand on the merman’s waist and sliding up close to him. “Why the speed drop?” he asks as he examines the air around them.

“You’re friend down there-”

“Friend is a strong word,” Canyon gripes.

“You’re friend down there,” Mercury continues with a smile, leaning into the tabaxi. “Doesn’t look too good, I’m slowing it down so he doesn’t get sick on my deck.”

Canyon flexes his claws, not biting into the scales of his hips, but grazing his nails across them. “I think you are too nice to him.”

“No, I’m just looking out for my ship,” he remarks, gingerly placing his hands near the collar of the cat’s shirt. He fixes the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles before stepping back.

The rest of the party stands in the middle of the open deck. The captain gives them all a quick once over but his gaze lingers on Goodbid, or rather his shirt.

“I told you, you like nice in my clothes,” Mercury teases as he and Canyon reenter the group.

“Huh?” Glib questions, looking between them, trying to decipher whatever coded language they are using.

“That-” Mercury points to Goodbid’s chest. “Is my shirt. I’m just glad he still likes it.”

S.G. huffs. “Goodbid gets your shirt and I don’t?” they ask in a mock hurt tone.

Mercury chortles. “You can go into my trunk and get any of my shirts you like,” he says gesturing to the captain’s quarters.

“Really?” S.G. asks, trying, and failing, to hide their excitement.

“Of course,” he nods. “I think all of you would look nice in my clothes. They’d be baggy and practically fall off of you.”

The old man laughs, drawing Mercury’s attention for the first time.

Mercury turns to look at him before extending his hand with a good-natured smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met! I’m Captain Mercury.”

The shadar-kai shakes his hand a little too vigorously. “King Skeezvol Skracks XIX, it’s a pleasure to meet a new subject of mine.”

“It’s nice to meet you, your majesty?” Mercury says slowly looking to the others for guidance.

“Don’t mind the old man, he’s going senile,” Canyon butts in.

“I’m not senile! If I was senile I would’ve missed your flirting!” Skeezvol snaps.

The group snickers or ducks their heads, but Mercury cocks an eyebrow. “Flirting?”

“I may be a blind old man, but I’m not deaf! I know flirting when I hear it!” he continues.

The merman looks at the others, his face pinched in confusion. “What is he going on about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Cassanova fish man!” the old man exclaims.

“Cassanova fish man?” Mercury echoes, confusion lacing his words.

“Yeah, really, Tails, it’s fine,” Glib agrees to which the old man looks mildly irritated about for reasons that the Captain can’t even begin to fathom.

The merman snickers. “Me? A casanova?” He shakes his head. “I’m an awful flirt.”

Energy of the others around him noticeably changes.

He looks at them and they all look to be in varying states of denial or confusion. “What?” he questions.

“Mercury,” Goodbid says slowly.

“What?” he questions again.

Canyon gives him a hard look. “Are you dumb or screwing with us?”

“Screwing with you?” he parrots. “No, I’m not ‘screwing with you,’ I have no idea what’s going on.”

They look at each other, seeming to have a mental conversation before Goodbid sighs and goes, “Mercury, you’ve been flirtin’ with us since you met us.”

The captain gives them a blank expression. “No, I haven’t?”

“Yes, you have,” S.G. says.

“And for once, they aren’t gaslighting you,” Glib tacks on.

He shakes his head. “Wouldn’t I know if I was flirting with someone?” he questions.

Canyon snickers. “We thought you were doing it on purpose.”

“How?” Mercury asks, exasperated.

“When I came back after being sick, you said I must be using magic to make myself so pretty,” S.G. reminds.

“But you are very pretty!” Mercury defends. “I wasn’t flirting, I was telling the truth.”

“And you saying that you want to see us in your clothes?” Goodbid questions.

Mercury makes a semi-embarrassed noise. “Right, now, I see how that’s weird, but I just like baggy clothing.”

“What about letting me drink from you?” Glib says unamused, clearly still thinking that he is messing with them.

Mercury shrugs. “You looked miserable and I didn’t have any rations for you. It was the next best thing.”

Canyon cuts the middle man entirely, side-stepping closer to the fish man and putting a hand on his waist, pulling him into his personal space. Mercury instantly leans into the hold to which Canyon grins. “Do you even remember what you said while you were drunk?”

“No?”

The tabaxi snickers. “You basically invited me to stay the night.”

Mercury blushes to the tips of his ears. “I don’t remember doing that.”

Canyon maneuvers them slightly until their chests are pressed together. “Mmhmm,” he hums, flexing his claws slightly. Mercury reaches up and fixes the collar of his shirt before letting his hands linger again to which the cat snickers. “And what do you call this?”

Mercury looks at him oddly before seeming to understand the position that he found himself in. He turns bright red and steps back muttering, “Your collar was laying weirdly.”

“And you’re telling me that you didn’t do that on purpose?” Canyon teases, letting him go.

“No!”

The group looks at each other, having another mental conversation before they begin to grin.

“What? Mercury asks, sensing a trap.

They don’t respond as they just move around him.

“What are you doing?” He questions, trying to step back, but ends up backing into Canyon. “Guys?”

Suddenly there are hands on him, around his waist, his arms, and his shoulders, and then there are kisses. Canyon is covering his neck in kisses, Goodbid has his right cheek, S.G. has his left, and Glib is littering his wrists with soft kisses.

When they pull back, Mercury’s jaw is dropped and he sputters. There’s a moment's pause before a little bit of blood dribbles from his nose.

“You alright, Lover boy?” Skeezvol asks between his wheezing laughs.

“Yeah- I’m- uh huh,” he spits out before stumbling backward, wiping the blood on the back of his hand. “I’m gonna- yeah, I’m- I’m going to steer the- Sky Skimmer. Steer Sky Skimmer.” He pauses, still wide-eyed and bright red. “Yep.” He scurries up the stairs and holds onto her spokes for dear life as a chorus of laughs follows him up.

#d&dorks #fanfiction #crosspost #everyone/mercury #party is chaos #canyon is a good boy

[wherethewoofwoofsgo]

Febuwhump Day Two : Flinching

Moral of the story: Don't ignore your evil goddess situationship, even if you have really valid reasons

2.9k words

Please mind the CWs! I don't want to put it in the tag in case people actually use it but this pairing is very dubcon (dubious consent.) A key element of the dynamic is he would say yes to most of what she wants from him but also he is not allowed to say no.

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One of the simplest rules of the caverns is that when the Goddess calls, you answer. To do otherwise is to swing for death, dragging the Goddess and everyone unlucky enough to bear witness into it. If Honesty had been so desperate for that, he’d have simply returned home to the caverns where such things were easy to act upon.

But it’s one of many ways Silver Port isn’t as simple as the distal caverns. Despite working less, there’s always something to do, a constant stream of events being planned or attended or in need of some sort of assistance to run properly, and his cousin is eager to drag him along to as many as Honesty will allow, good practice for his Common and an excuse to meet people.

And, though he wouldn’t so much as whisper it to himself, maybe a part of him had hoped she’d let him be. It had taken hours to scrub the blood from under his nails, more for the pounding in his heart to subside, and even that had only been achieved when he’d finally allowed a worrying Dove to offer him something in his tea he doubted the Goddess would approve of. If Dove kept offering reasons for him to be unable to clear his schedule, no matter how flimsy the excuse…

Maybe he’d been stupid enough to think he had some kind of cover from her ire after all this time.

This is how he ends up at work, carefully laying necklaces in a freshly assembled box, about to tape it shut and apply its assigned label when Praiseworthy emerges from the front, a sickness to her tone as she maneuvers between tables and shelves. He only starts paying attention to her movements when it becomes clear she’s making her way towards him, long-used to others mingling around him. That alone is enough to make his stomach twist, sickness simmering and heat threatening to flood his face. He tells himself to calm down as she carefully arranges her words, each one in a neat line after the last. “I think your goddess is here to see you.”

Already his heart is squeezing in his chest as he searches her face. He runs through his week, tries to remember the last time he’d seen her. It couldn’t have been that long ago, but no, he’s been putting it off since that day with Opening Flowers. The realization is enough to make his insides crumple, the severity of his breach of etiquette hitting him. He swallows, straightening his back from what little slouch he’d fallen into, and slowly makes his way towards the front of the shop, sending a quiet hope to the caverns that no one here will witness a death today. He picks through what she might say, tries to use his limited time to prepare.

The beads clink against each other as he brushes them aside and, sure enough, there’s the Goddess. A navy blue dress hangs loose off her body, painted brighter by her dark skin, white hair hidden under a wide-brimmed hat. She’s straight behind the bronze desk, eyes already pinning him. She could’ve sat at one of the couches, vibrant red and pink things, and the sight of her standing leaves him sicker for it. Maybe that’s the point.

He picks his way around to the front of the desk.

She doesn’t so much as acknowledge Praise before, in Dweller, she’s addressing him. “This is where you spend your days?”

The first answer that jumps to his tongue is barely appropriate for his matriarchs, designed to make her regret the question. He swallows it back down, face burning at even the thought of saying it, and says instead, forcing his eyes to steady on her, “It’s work.”

“Busywork, maybe.”

He hadn’t considered she might target his employment. It offers room for the words to squeeze deeper between his ribs, building themselves a home close to his heart. Busywork. He chews at his lip, but only for a moment. “Does it not please you?”

“There’s very little this city offers that pleases me.”

He doesn’t remark on Dove’s near century of residence. “I’m sorry to hear that, Goddess.”

His words bounce off her, unheard or close enough it doesn’t matter. “You’re lucky I let you stay here. You recognize that, don’t you? Especially with Loyalty by your side. Do you know what grief your matriarchs bear for it?”

If he were stronger, the words wouldn’t sting. The mark she aimed to hit wouldn’t exist. He could tell himself, if not her, because telling her would be a death wish, that whatever they felt was their own damned fault and he did not deserve to bear the blame for what kept him alive.

In reality, they still raised him and his head spins with the thought of a life back home without Loyalty in it, the life they’re living. In practicality, he has denied them their sons. As much as he knows it would be a more than practical denial had he stayed, it still sinks into his gut, still stains his insides.

“Retribution can hardly bear it. You know how much it pains me to hurt her.”

His throat aches, but he keeps his eyes on her, even if for a second he finds himself fixating on a loose strand of hair. It is enough, he reminds himself, that she let him leave—That she forced his matriarchs’ hands to allow Loyalty passage with him. It is more than most women would allow a man, certainly more than the Goddess would. He can’t compare himself to a woman. It isn’t fair to either of them.

He stays straight, doesn’t shift his body. There is still the fact he is at work, with his coworker on the other side of their work desk, watching. He’d never dare to suggest the Goddess’s anger is undeserved, but he knows what’s coming, and this isn’t the caverns. Even her presence is enough for a scene somewhere like this, but she’s going to make it worse, though he doubts she’ll yell. At the very least, he wishes he were still the type of son who could take this kind of punishment dutifully and without all this excess emotion before it had truly even started.

Maybe that’s a sign that this one will actually stick—That the Goddess at least can give him a scorning well enough that he feels so sick afterwards he will never do what displeased her ever again. It’s not like he can fake a remorse that pleases her, not with what his name requires of him. Already he feels close to cracking.

“I’ve let you get away with things.”

She pauses, and he knows the dramatics are just another tool to extend the hurt, but his heart still twists, his chest exploding in pain when her lips twitch. All she’d have to do is look at him with this utter dissatisfaction a couple of minutes and he would split open like a pomegranate.

“Before this last week, it never occurred to me that I doted on you too much. You at least do as I ask, even if you can be trusted to behave for no one else, not even your matriarchs, despite them treating you well and beyond the proper care demanded. Even if you choose to waste yourself writing toxic screeds, defiant of every attempt to make you stop, no matter how extreme. Your hair still bears the mark of the last attempt at control, yet still you choose to disobey your betters, and I turn a blind eye because despite being an absolutely wretched excuse of a first son, the worst of your stock and the saddest example to have survived your recent mass departing, you can at least pretend to care, and pretend well enough that even you believe it.”

Her words are a constant stream, the natural rise and fall of a voice but no more than a casual conversation. But she doesn’t have to raise her voice. She’s been doing this kind of thing for millennia and she knows as well as he does that an even tone can screw into you just as deeply when wielded right.

It’s hard to look at her when she talks like this, but he looks regardless, even if it means focusing on the minute: The stray hairs, the places her eyebrows thin. His heart beats in his chest, stinging in time with his eyes, and he knows where that path leads. He wills himself not to cry, stamps down on the urge as fiercely as he can. She’ll stop when she’s ready. He only has to make it that far. Already it feels like a stream is splitting things: This moment and the moments before. He could get lost in it if he allowed himself. But it’s his fault. This never would’ve happened if he hadn’t given her a reason. It would be easy to blame her, and he’s blamed her before, but mostly he just feels sick to his stomach for forcing the words up. He can hardly take her in, let alone anything past her. The cheery orange walls barely register, her face beginning to blur.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but if she hears it, it doesn’t matter.

“You bring every problem you have upon yourself. Have you ever looked at the pain you cause those around you with your disobedience? You try to fix things in your own way, I’m sure, but it only seems to make things worse. Your matriarchs, your cousins—If you were a good son, you’d recognize your own feeble-mindedness and allow those who truly know how to care for you to do what they were born to, but instead you become so wrapped up in these acts of petty resistance you fail to notice the crumbling of those around you. Your bedmate, your nephew, even those you claim are your closest friends.” Each one echoes memories like the stab of a knife. “If you were better, you wouldn’t be here. Because they would be at home with you. You made them carry everything by themselves for this fantasy of some grand cause and as much as you might like to pretend otherwise while you write your sad little stanzas, the kind of things easily outpaced by your girlcousins’ thoughtless remarks about their most recent sexual adventures, this is not a failure of mine but of yours.”

In that moment, the nights spent up with a sobbing Obedience didn’t matter, same as the attempts to part Dignity from his burdens, or to make Credence talk, just talk no longer mattered. All she had to do was speak her version of the truth to turn it to gospel and drain the heat from him, the room, the entire Silver Port summer. It sucks the air from his lungs, replacing them with concrete, heavy enough he might sink into the floor. His eyes burn with the urge to shut, to escape the reality of this room for even a second. In the corner of his vision, Praise lingers, but even with her in his sight she’s easy to forget with the Goddess’s presence to suck him up.

“You know that on some level, don’t you?” Her tone has an understanding to it that could kill him if he let it. “Otherwise, why would you run here, to live with some boy you hardly know, far from where your mistakes can echo themselves back into your face?”

He struggles to swallow, to keep his eyes not only open but on her instead of the floor or the door or even the walls, burning into his eyes as they do. It’s an even bigger battle to keep his face from scrunching up with his pain, instead kept some acceptable level of plain. The tears stinging at his eyes remove any daring that might otherwise move him to speak.

“Do you know what you are, Honesty?” she asks, soft as she scoots closer to him.

Struggling not to choke on the words and failing, he says, “No, Goddess.”

“You are a man I like to fuck, and not a particularly special one.”

His eyes finally squeeze shut, face collapsing with the expanse inside himself. It’s a truth he’s always known, of course, less a secret than something left unsaid, but it hurts more to hear said than he’d expected. His eyes burn as the tears finally leak from them. He tries to straighten his face, to force himself back to presentability, but his body refuses to cooperate.

This isn’t the worst thing she’s said, but it’s the one that made him cry. He could beat himself for it, knows his matriarchs would. The insults to his family, his name, and what matters is that he isn’t special? What’s wrong with him?

She lets him cry for longer than he expects, but she still asks, a rattle to her tone, “Are you crying?”

The correct answer is ‘No,’ because the correct response was to not begin crying. He forces himself to not, gut crumpling into itself, body threatening to heave in place of a voice, though with how tight his throat’s gone he’s not sure anything would come up even if it tried.

“Do you think you deserve to cry right now?”

He shakes his head, at least able to answer that one properly, and tries to calm himself by some inches. At the very least he thanks himself that he’s never been a loud crier, instead quietly gasping for breath as he tries to gather himself.

She’s quiet again for a moment as he fights with his body, and then, as even as breath, she says, “Cant you at least try to be good for me?”

His stomach threatens to heave, but he forces himself to breathe, all her words bouncing around in his skull, and forces his eyes open, his body straight, some semblance of propriety wrought into his body.

She’s closer now, fully in his space, rendered a blob of black and white and navy blue by the mix of light and tears. Even in the brightness of a surface city, he can see the cavern walls, hear the ripping of skin and muscle from cartilage, chewing, person rendered meat then spat back up and disposed of. He clenches as tight as he can, desperate to keep from trembling.

“There you go.” The approval in her voice is almost like she’s calling him good all over again and his stomach flips, threatening to loose itself on the floor. But at the same time a relief spreads through his core and once again he’s left wondering what has gone so deeply wrong with him to render him like this. She steps deeper into his space and all he can do is thank the caverns, aching in his chest as he does, that he doesn’t flinch back, her coo echoing into last week and the room behind him where Opening Flowers is still absent.

“Do you know what you’re worth.”

Despite his throat’s tightness, the tears still tracing down his cheeks, he forces himself to struggle for words, the beauty cut out by the struggle. “What am I worth?”

“Whatever I decide. And right now, I don’t think that’s very much.”

All he wants to do is go home and curl up. He takes comfort in how late he is in his shift. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

What a fool he’d been to think himself too tired for new pain, the question leaving an ache fresh and unexpected.

She presses on. “Is that why you’re making this about yourself? Making me chase you down? I shouldn’t have to do things like this. You’re supposed to come when you’re called.”

All he can do is stare at her, stinging.

For a moment, she stands there looking back. Then, finally, voice soft enough he can breathe again, she says, “I think you are. You won’t do that again, will you?”

Immediately he relaxes enough for the jolts and twitches to wrack his body the way they’ve been aching to this entire time. He opens his mouth, eager to promise he won’t, to offer apologies for ever hurting her.

Her hand approaches his face to quickly. He rewitnesses every death she’s ever committed in front of him. For a moment, she’s pressing the knife into his hand again even as he meekly says no, no.

He flinches and they both freeze.

He’s stopped crying by now, the shock and relief still running their course through him, so he can see the way her eyes pierce through him. He loses the ability to breathe. Her hand goes to rest where it had wanted to in the first place, but the moment’s passed, even as she pets him softly.

She leans close to him, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear and, close enough her lips brush against him, she whispers, “You’re going to regret that.”

He’s shaking again by the time she finally pulls away, walking herself out the front door of the shop.

He barely has enough energy to be glad no customers came in. Face warm with the new tears tracing down the tracts, Praise’s hands dance into view. She says something to him, but he isn’t paying enough attention to catch it, instead focused on forming his own words into something intelligible.

“I need to sit.”

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday2 #cw abuse #cw discussion of suicide #cw verbal abuse #cw violence #...? #writing on tumblr #fiction #original fiction #wtwwg ; ezphe #wtwwg ; honesty #wtwwg ; honesty ezphe