#the art is a bit odd but still proud of it

[hamlet-yam]

there is no flames

I think I only posted this on insta so here ya good

#dragons #oc #ocs #murderteeth #midnight #the art is a bit odd but still proud of it #original character #original characters #My art

[idesofrevolution]

Something’s Wrong with Luca

Teddy and Lucas were the best of friends. For the past fifteen years, since Lucas' family moved to town from Argentina, the two were inseparable. In fact, Teddy could remember the very day that they met as if it had happened the day before. Sitting in the back row in homeroom, seventh grade, Ms. Posner's old cadaverous talons gripping the Argentine boy's shoulders as she presented him to the class... Lucas didn't speak English very well at the time, so few if any of the other kids were particularly interested in being his friend. In most of his classes, at least for the first few years, he had to have an aide to help him through his coursework; most of the other kids assumed he was stupid and quiet. But the moment he was sat next to Teddy, sharing that genuine smile, it sparked the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

As Lucas' english speaking continued to improve, Teddy discovered a goofy, funny, laid back kid who just wanted a friend. They weren't popular kids, passing on sports teams, drama club, music ensembles, art club... they spent their time playing in the woods, creating fantastical realms of pirates and kings, elves and dwarves. In their fantasy worlds, they were safe. They were away from the judging eyes of their peers where they could truly be themselves. And so on it continued for the better part of a decade. Upon graduation, they had grown into two wildly intelligent, albeit a bit awkward young men ready to tackle the world. Though, as Teddy went on to university to study literature, Lucas' family wasn't able to afford any of the colleges he'd been accepted to. Thus, for the first time in their lives, the two were separated. Teddy flew across the country to Virginia for college, and Lucas stayed behind to work in his father's mechanic shop.

Their new situations were polar opposite, though their communication and relationship never faded. At least once a week they would facetime, updating eachother on their lives. The dynamic was as solid as it ever was, until it wasn't.

One cold January evening, Teddy sat down for his weekly video call, excited beyond words to tell Lucas about the new PS5 he'd bought for them to play Rocket League together on weekends. Though as call after call went unanswered, he decided to call it a night and touch base with him the next morning. Though, as morning came and went, there was still no sign of Lucas. His social medias went without updates, Teddy's texts went entirely unanswered, the only news heard from him whatsoever was from his step brother who mentioned that he'd seen Lucas working hard at the shop and hitting the gym he'd frequented.

This was the first peculiar incident that Teddy had noted. He'd known Lucas for years and while he was a lot of things, athletic was NOT one of them. It'd always been them versus the meatheads, and it was not like him to even consider lifting so much as a five pound weight. They would joke about the stupid smelly brutes in the school gym, mindlessly picking heavy things up and putting them back down again for some sense of marginal achievement. Though this would be only the beginning of Lucas' odd behavior. Months went by, Teddy checking his Instagram every day looking for a single sign his friend was doing alright, until one day as he was scrolling, he saw it.

It was Lucas, though not the proud, stringy outcast he'd left behind. This Lucas was ripped, proudly posing shirtless in some fancy-looking room he had never seen before, a cocky smirk plastered on his sweet face. The caption read:

"Workout complete: who's gonna give me a tongue bath?" followed by a slew of hashtags. Teddy's face flushed white as snow. Who was this person? What happened to him? Tapping his icon, Teddy saw that Lucas had changed his screenname to Luca, and this thirst trap he'd posted was the first one in over four months. Unsure of how to approach this vastly different person, Teddy replied to the post with a simple shocked emoji and hit send. It didn't take long before his phone dinged with a message: it was from Luca.

L: "yo sorry I been afk bro. my cuz julio been visiting from buenos aires... so i been hangin wit him. wuts up bro"

Immediately, Teddy thought his phone had been hacked. Luca had spent years perfecting his english, almost to the point where he would have been a tutor in the writing center had he wanted to be one. His texts were always grammatic perfection, down to the last punctuation mark.

T: "Uh, that's fine. I didn't know you had a cousin? You never talked about him or anything."

L: "bruh i didnt know he existed til he showed up. hes dope af. showin me some pointrs at liftin n shit. been changin my life. you gotta meet him when you come back."

T: "Sure, Lucas. I would love to meet him. I should be back next week actually, the semester is almost over. Maybe we can play RL at my place!"

L: "hah i dont think hed be into that kinda stuff. you shud hit the gym wit us when we go, get that pump goin ykwim. you gon love him."

Teddy frowned, had Lucas changed that much in the span of a few months? It wasn't just the physical differences, it was his attitude, it was his style, it was the way he talked, it was just... all wrong.

T: "Lucas, are you okay?"

L: "never better man. its Luca btw. fits better i think"

With that last text, Teddy decided to leave him on read. Lucas... or Luca rather, wasn't one to drink or do illicit substances. Though aside from that, he couldn't think of any other explanation for this dramatic shift in his friend's entire personality. He resolved then and there to get to the bottom of this, and he would do so in person the following week.

Thus, as he finished his finals, packed his bags and flew back home, the singular thing on his mind was seeing Luca. Arriving home, he monotonously went through the motions of greeting his parents and step brother, anxiously fidgeting on the car ride back from the airport. He didn't even take time to unpack his bags. The moment his mom's car parked in his driveway, he'd politely excused himself to go meet up with Luca. Hopping on his bike, he left his visibly confused family in the dust, rushing to the mechanic shop downtown where Luca worked.

By the time he got there, the shop was closing up for the day. Teddy ditched the bike on the concrete and burst into the front office, startling the lady behind the desk. Panting and sweaty, he collapsed onto the front desk.

"Uhm... Is Lucas here?" He breathlessly choked out the words to the woman, who confusedly cocked her head to the left. "Oh, I guess it's Luca now?" This name evidently struck a chord, where she nodded and pointed to the back room where the lockers sat. Teddy thanked her and slowly walked toward the big grey door. Placing his hand on the cold steel handle, he closed his eyes repeating to himself hopes that the person behind the door was the same one he'd always known. As he pressed the handle down and pushed the door open, the wet, dank smell of ripe sweat poured out. There, sitting on the bench, taking off his beat up pair of steel toed work boots was a shirtless Luca, almost twice the size he had been before. Where he used to be 5'8 and 101 lbs soaking wet, this Luca was easily 6'4 and pure muscle. His biceps bulged as he yanked his boot from his massive foot, veins pulsating up and down his arms. That boyish face remained, albeit with a newfound twinge of cockiness that was entirely counter to the mousy, nervous expression Teddy had grown to love. The moment he looked up, Luca grinned from ear to ear, hopping to his damp, socked feet and rushing his long lost best friend, throwing his arms wide to embrace him.

"Teddy!" Luca's chiseled body collided with Teddy's, holding him tightly against his statuesque torso with his face pressed against his sweat-slick pecs. Teddy felt like a child now compared to his friend, now transformed into a complete stranger. "It's so good to see you, hermano!" A thick Argentine accent bellowed from his newly baritone timbre- one that had been all but lost in school, but now prominently flowed from his supple lips. Teddy pulled away sharply, taking a step back in shock. "Oh, ¿es el olor? My bad, mi cuate. Long day of hard work, right?" Luca laughed, raising his arm to take a deep whiff of his dripping pits. "Ahhh. You grow to like it, me entiendes?" His jovial demeanor quickly subsided as he saw the look of absolute shock on Teddy's face.

"Lucas... What the fuck happened to you?"

"It's Luca now, hermano. I told you. Still the same guy as before, just a lil different now."

"Yeah... different. You can say that again." Luca sighed as he plopped back down onto the bench, spreading his legs wide as he rubbed his face.

"Yeah. I get it, man. It's a lot to take in, verdad? I told you my cousin Julio was in town for a while?" Teddy sternly nodded, straining to contain his contempt for this sharp departure of personality. Luca looked downward. "Yeah, well. He was a lot different from the rest of mi familia. He was a proud Argentino hombre. He was okay with not having perfect english, he wasn't scared of bein' different or bein' looked down on. Someone looked sideways at him and they'd have a broken jaw, me entiendes? It... it was so fuckin' nice to have someone around like me who was cool and strong and proud... I always wanted to be someone like him, Teddy. Always." Teddy saw a different Luca before him. Yeah, he was different, he was the embodiment of the thirst-trapping, smelly jock bros they hated as kids. Yet, in this moment of vulnerability, he saw the Luca he knew deep down.

"Luca, all those years of us being friends, being this close, you never told me that." His head hung low, running his hands through his sweaty locks.

"That's not the only thing I haven't told you, man."

"Luca, you can tell me anythi..." Luca threw his head straight up, staring Teddy straight in the eye before blurting out:

"TEDDY I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU!" The room fell silent. Both men sat there, not breaking eye contact, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Of course, someone had to be the one, and Luca sighed as he continued. "Mi amor, I have always loved you. Since day one. Lookin' at eachother in that old bat's class, I knew I wanted to be near you. With you. And it wasn't 'til Julio made me realize I should have fuckin' said somethin' that I let my balls drop and promised I would tell you. So yeah, man. I love you." Luca stood up abruptly, with a confidence entirely foreign to Teddy and towered above his infatuation. "And you know what? I think you love me too."

Teddy was gobsmacked. This was a revelation he wasn't prepared to address. Luca loved him? This cocky, jockish best friend of his loved him? More importantly, did he love him back? They stood there, waiting once again for the ice to be broken. Before long, Luca had turned around and began to pack his duffel bag, fearing he'd gotten the answer he was hoping to avoid. Yet, perhaps it was a moment of clarity, or even a moment of weakness, but something deep within Teddy surged up from his core out his mouth.

"I love you too." The quiet admission didn't go unnoticed, as Luca stopped everything he was doing and immediately turned around. "Yeah, I think I love you too Luca. You may be different now than you were, but all this time I couldn't stop thinking about you. How much I missed you, how I would have rather spent every single second with you than every moment of being out there without you." Luca smiled earnestly, slowly moving toward his cowering love. "And it made me scared and uncomfortable because I was terrified things were changing and I stayed the same. Seeing you like this this, you're doing what I could never do. You're growing, you're becoming the best version of yourself, and I didn't know if you'd even want to be around me anymore or if you'd be ashamed..." Teddy's groveling finally ended with Luca's lips firmly pressing against his, the stubble on his chin scratching against Teddy's smooth skin. His inhibitions melted away, Teddy allowed himself to fall into the sweaty stud's firm hold, wrapped in a warm sticky embrace.

"Do you wanna to be your best self then, mi amor?" Luca whispered so gently, as if his words were caressing the ear. Breathless, Teddy could only nod as he allowed his endorphins to take over. "Julio showed me how. Do you trust me?" Another silent nod, stifling a guttural moan as he felt Luca's bulge rapidly growing firm against his stomach. This was the explicit consent that Luca felt he needed, he was desperately aching to bestow upon his lover Julio's gift which he had been given months before.

Teddy felt a firm grip against his shoulders pressing him down to his knees, until he was eye level with the lengthening rod which strained against Luca's thick sweatpants. For so long he'd suppressed his innate desire to give it the worship he felt it had never received and as Luca threw the waistband down to his ankles, he was not disappointed as it flew up and smacked him in the jaw. Before him was the most anatomically perfect cock he'd ever seen: easily 10.5 inches of thick, uncut, musky dick. Two large-egg sized balls sagged low behind it, spattered with selective hairs and dripping sweat. Teddy felt drool begin to drip from the bottom of his lip, the sheer heat of the musty hot rod only millimeters from the tip of his nose. Luca smiled, wrapping his hand around it and pulling his long foreskin down, revealing the pink, leaking mushroom head it contained.

"Julio showed me an old family secret. Only a few of us can do it, and I want to do it for you, mi amor." He began to stroke slowly; his member immediately taking direct notice, throbbing in a fervor more akin to convulsion. "He fucked it up last time, he didn't come back. But now thanks to him... I know how to give it to you, babe." Luca took his thumb and gently pried Teddy's mouth open. Eager to please, Teddy quickly took the opportunity to lick the tip of his cock, instantly savoring the powerful flavor of his dripping pre. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Sweet, salty, sour, savory... every taste bud fired thousands of endorphins in his brain. "Get your tongue in there, Cariño. Let it in." Teddy's tongue acted as if it were under another power, softly probing the leaking slit of the head and causing Luca to groan in ecstasy, throwing his head back. Grabbing the back of his head, in one firm push, Luca speared Teddy's gaping maw with his musky cock, pressing the nose firmly into his ripe bush.

Teddy was nearly scent-drunk in his love's dank, masculine smell, and only after a split second did he realize his entire tongue had slipped into Luca's thick rod. Grunting like a man in heat, the latin adonis gritted his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he felt Teddy's tongue slowly retract out of his cock. Released from his impalement, Teddy observed the wide opening of the cockslit in full view. Luca's hands gripped his palms, guiding his index finger back to the inviting orifice, effortlessly slipping in and sounding into his member. Elastic stretching sounds echoed in the room as the cock widened to fit his finger, then two, then four... until the whole hand was inside.

Teddy felt entranced, completely enveloped in the heat of the moment, plunging his second hand into the gaping hole. It stretched wide to welcome him, and with a single glance upward to a winking Luca, he understood. Teddy worked quickly, using forward momentum and the increasing suction within the engorged cock to propel his head forward into the tight wet cavern. The rest happened quickly. The sucking member had taken his arms and head entirely inside of it, squeaking and expanding as it guzzled his shoulders, chest and midsection. He could feel Luca lift his dick upward, letting him slide deeper and deeper. It was constricting, it was tight, it was wet, it smelled funky and ripe... it was the best sensation he'd ever felt. As his thighs and calves were made quick work of, only his feet remained outside of the slit. It took mere seconds for them to slurp inside.

Luca's cock was as large as he was, veins bulging and the entire length of it bulging and contorting as it worked Teddy down little by little toward his balls. He began to pump toward his sweaty balls, until he could feel the tips of his boyhood friend's fingers reach the opening into his cavernous testes. As if a seal had been broken, Teddy's body fell into the ocean of spunk, swelling his balls to accommodate the entire human being being nestled into his sac. The pace of his cock pumping hastened, as he felt closer and closer to climax. He felt the rigid bones and gelatinous fat begin to melt into his seed as Teddy was assimilated entirely into his system. Just as Julio had done to him, and just as he had in turn done to Julio. His breathing shallowed, gasping for air as he reached his tipping point, shooting out cum like a firehose all over the interior of the room. In it, was every insecurity, every pain, every imperfection which had plagued his lover since he was forced into the world. Gallons, tens of gallons in cum painted every surface around him, and as his balls began to shrink back down to the size of cantaloupes, he could feel his body churning Teddy down, incorporating him into the remnants of what was left of Julio. The gift itself, handed down the line for thousands of years was being imbued into the very core of Teddy's being. Julio had overshot his escape route in the heat of his own carnal lust, being broken down and slowly assimilated into Luca's body. The cockiness, the libido, the drive, the gift all now coursed through Luca. He was gone, but he didn't have to be wasted.

Over the next few weeks of churning, gurgling, bubbling, and undulating, Teddy was broken down and rebuilt only to be broken down again. Each time, a little more of Julio's essence would incorporate into him, even some of Luca himelf found its way into his shapeless form. Every workout that he did provided bursts of testosterone into the mix, and every jerking session flooded serotonin and glutamate. And after carefully monitoring the time, ensuring that Teddy would not meet his cousin's fate, three months later, it was time.

Sitting down in the luxurious apartment paid for by thirsty gay subscribers to his JustForFans and PH videos, Luca took his cock into his hands once more. Gently. Slowly. Carefully. Never losing focus of what was at stake, he stroked. Within his heavy balls, his leche had begun to bubble and slosh, preparing itself for expulsion. He picked up the pace, lifting his arm to get a full inhale of his pungent, all-natural pit poppers. His cock began to pulse and crack, as the thick sludge began to make its way toward the exit. Sure not to fall into the same trap as before, he pulled away from his tangy stink and focused. It was time. His hand moved furiously up and down his slimy cock, dripping with pre which pooled at his big, musky feet. One final cry of euphoria and out shot his load. One barrage after another, thick and dense landing afront him. Each shot slowly coagulating into a recognizable form. It slowly hardened, the milky white color giving way to ivory, then light beige, then a warm tan. Muscles tightened beneath a smooth skin, their fibers reconnecting one by one until they were strong and lean.

By the end of the bombardment, the homunculus before him had stood up. It was as tall as him, as broad as him, as powerful as him, and as the form of it's face began to take shape, a single tear was shed from Luca's watery eyes. He recognized his love, he could see Teddy, albeit ever so slightly different. He had certainly taken more of Julio and Luca's essences than they'd anticipated. A sharp, chiseled jawline carved itself out of the miasma, dark brown locks of hair sprung from it's scalp and plump lips parted to allow the deep breath of life which had been denied until then. His caramel eyes opened, and he smiled.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #jockification #musk #musky #gay transformation #cockvore #assimilation #racial change #male tf

[unluckykay]

Belphie is awake and in need of some cuddles 🫠

With this, I've finally completed a nsfw illustration for all the demon brothers! It's a bit of an odd achievement, but I'm still proud lol

Nsfw versions (and all the spicy art featuring the demon brothers) are available on my Patreon! 🔞

#digital art #illustration #art #artwork #anime style #obey me shall we date #fanart #obey me one master to rule them all #om! belphegor #om! belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me fanart #omswd #obey me #obey me nightbringer #artists on tumblr #digital artist #drawing #art on tumblr

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

#salt talks

[mahiiimahiiii]

between a ghoul and a hard place

a/n: ive had this finished for a bit, not happy with the ending but i like to post shit. this was rather indulgent and i dont see poly pairs very often, i think next ill actually do a cooper howard fic and then one of magnolia or a fluff of nick being a new england dad. apologies for my chunky break man i was burnt out. hope this is decent im still not used to writing hancock. this is just straight smut and was supposed to be a drabble lmao

[cw: dirty talk, breeding kink, implication of subspace, bi sosu, biting, blanking, concept art john. ((johns appearence is based off of mintcrows design of john!!)), ]

“You settled in there Hun’?” Your hands drew circles onto the thighs of the reporter beneath you, her long black hair tied back into a loose messy bun which strands escaped from. She let out a low keen shifting her hips to accommodate the two things that penetrated her. The strap was settled decently, nesting against her womb, allowing the ghoul beneath her (albeit in an odd position) to embed himself in her gut. 

“And you're ok piper? This is ok?” You cupped her cheek, thumbing the soft flesh. 

“Enough with the pillow talk sweetheart, let's get this show on the road.” Hancock tilts his hips slightly, blowing a pin curl out of his eyes. “She asked for both of us, let's grant her wish.'' His voice was a soft croon, one he used when he got shit faced and sang to ballads. 

You pressed kisses to the side of Piper's jaw leaving lovely bruises underneath her chin, her breath stuttering as you shifted your hips just a bit closer together. 

You began as her grip on you tightened, grunting as you slowly pulled out, only to ease back in. Her walls gripped around the silicon of your pseudo cock as your irradiate lover’s knees pressed the side of your stomach. 

Piper practically drooled at the situation, her blunt and ink soaked nails scratching into your back; She bit her lip catching the moans in her throat. 

“You're always one for talking, why so quiet now?” John grunted from underneath the crown of Piper's head. You shivered at the weight of his balls hitting against your lips the extra plug that filled you hit a little higher as the leather sank into your folds. You groaned softly at the sensation, the quick slap upwards and the slow drag down as he lowered his hips.

Piper let out a low moan, her hips canted up and down for anything that provided a sensation. She squeezed down again, her mouth hung open in fevered bliss. 

“You're taking us quite well, songbird. I couldn't be more proud.” You trilled quietly into her ear nibbling the outer shell. “Let us know when you're all tuckered out okay? You don't have to take us to completion, Kay? Y’hear? Nod or shake.” 

She slowly nodded, her lips slicked with spit, her eyes barely stood open. 

You leaned back admiring the view beneath you hips setting a slow and sure pace, you gathered some pooled slick at the edge of her cunt using it to lubricate her clit. 

She shuddered under your touch, her thighs flexing as she fucked herself twice as silly. Her toes curled, a low panicked moan tearing its way through her throat. You lifted your other hand to her chest, circling and pinching the nipple “easy there sweetheart.” 

Piper sputtered gently beneath you digging her heels into the mattress, her nails drew a fine layer of blood against your skin. 

“You're a fantastic pip.” You hum. 

“Blue-” she whines, “god I'm so fuckin close, I'm bout to pop.” 

“Use your voice - what do you want-” John rasped, his breaths low and focused. 

“Just fuck me- god, just fuck me.” 

“Specifications?” You tilted your head, loose curls spiraling over your shoulder, you gave long and languid strokes while John was more tempered with staccato beats. 

You watched her body tense underneath you again, taking it as a good sign. 

“God what a sight.” The mayor sighed, finally getting a good view after Piper tilted her head out of the way and arched her hips. “I can see why women are fond of calling you now, sweetheart.” 

“Oh yeah? Thinking of being on the receiving end today?” You teased, punctuating with a sharp stroke that earned a hearty moan from the woman beneath you. 

“Oh no, gonna have you ride me more often, I like being deep inside you.” He paused lowering his voice “watching you get sloppy as I fuck your brains to mush, hm? Or letting you cock warm until you're all warmed with radiation. Maybe use your little friend in the nightstand. Feeling you squeeze me like that, crying for me to let you cum… that is the sweetest high I'll ever experience.”

You whined softly at the pleasant thought. A tap interrupted your blurred visions, pipers hurried cry resounded next to her ear. 

“Now- now now now.” She whines, her hands clenching and clinging to your sides. A few quick snaps of your hips, tongue finding the driblets of sweat that sunk down her chest. 

“Such a pretty girl cumming for us.” His leathery hands cupped her chest, rocking his hips slowly allowing her to ride out the intense high. “Tell us when we can pull him?” 

She tapped again “space, I need space now.” Oh so slowly you laid a hand on her stomach, pulling out her walls sticking to silicone.  You humped the warmed member against her clit for good measure, Piper let out a low hiss. 

John helped her sit up, leveraging her off his member and against the relatively clean mattress and pile up of pillows. 

“John, love?” You sat back on your heels “could you wash up before…?” 

He nodded, taking off his tricorn, the ringlets of curls bouncing as he crawled his way off of the bed. He leaned in quickly for a quick peck, and padded off to the bathroom. 

You crawled towards Piper, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “Was that everything you dreamed of and more?” You kissed her eyelids as they fluttered shut. 

“All that and a packet of chips.” She murmured, “thanks for that blue.” 

“No issue, songbird.” You kissed her forehead. “I'll get some water from the bubbler later for you, okay? Rest now, we can take our business out if it's too loud.” 

“Honestly?” She sighed, “I really want to watch.” 

“I've never pegged you for the sort- or- sorry-” you sigh, reclining into her chest “I can't think of a better verb” 

“Ayuh.” She smiled dumbly, “just y'know. I like when others…” the reporter moved her hands in circles “complete.” 

“Uuhhhhuhhh.” You drew out the phrase, cupping her cheek once more, bending down to kiss the bridge of her nose. “I'll get you that water hm?” You padded off, a slight whine falling from her chest from the removal of warmth. The soft glug and hiss of the ancient pipes, noted that the washing up process was almost over. You scrounged three tins of purified water and one box of dirty for the ghoul that could handle rads. You cranked open the lid to one tin and popped a tablet of rad x into your mouth, scrounging one of rad-away for the reasonable double assurance. You drank the cool liquid, it parched your tongue with a smoothness that only water could provide.  You drank around half the tin, setting down the two others as you returned to pipers side. 

“How are your radiation levels?” you murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead. 

“S’ fine. Thanks.” She took the water from your hand and took a long swig. Her eyes closed as a long sigh drew from her chest. 

The door to the bathroom clicked shut, John's low rumble moved towards you, “I do Believe, it's someone else's turn. Isn't that right songbird?” He planted a warm hand on your spine as the

bed shifted under his weight. His lips ran the curve of your neck, you could feel the driblets of water from his hair trickle down your skin. 

“You watchin’ sister?” He asked, before embedding his teeth in the alcove of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him access to the taught skin below. He shifted back on his knees spreading your legs apart; Piper beneath you sighed, knocking her knees together. 

He sucked the skin of your shoulders, blunt teeth leaving red and white indents that faded to deep red and blue bruises. One of his rough padded hands found your chest. Dipping up to your lips for a generous application of spit. The other traced the sticky wetness of your folds, already pregamed by the notch on your strap. You shuddered as you felt a finger dip into you. tracing the viscous fluid to your clit, as the wet haired mayor planted firm kisses along your jaw. “Stay upright sweetheart, I've got you.” He nibbled the shell of your outer ear. “Can't cum yet ok?” His hands paused at your clenching; a desperate whine working its way through your throat. 

“Uh uh uh.” He taunted, “pretty and obedient girls get to cum, not dirty ones. But… I'll consider it, cause I like you so much.” 

“Please-” you begged softly, your slowly blurring vision granting you the visage of pipers legs flowering apart, her hand working steady figure 8’s on her clit. 

He brought the sullied fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. A groan rumbled in his lungs,”god, oh so wet and oh so tasty.” He traced the newly wet finger against your other neglected breast. “What do you think pip, does she deserve a treat?” 

You struggled under his tight grasp, earning a chastising nip. 

“Please-” you begged again, your eyes wide saucers of blown pupils than iris. 

“I think.. I ought to fill you like a nice creme doughnut, how's that sound? And- do use your words, doll. I'm a bit slow.” 

“Want you in me so bad-” your eyes scrunched shut,”want to be… filled - every sensation so it's just you.” 

“You want this nice ghoul cock in your guts and kidneys then hm? Fuck, you must have a death wish.” 

You canted your hips back trying to find the connection point. “I don't fuckin care, just want you to take me already-” 

“Said like a bitch in heat, you've got the hots for me don't you?” He teased again, rubbing his length against your folds. “Kiss me for a bit, I miss your taste.”  

And so you did. 

Craning your neck you kissed his parched lips, his mouth tasted of sugar bombs and jet. John's kisses were sloppy and throaty, he adjusted himself by sliding the head of his cock to bump up against your clit as he rocked his hips against your warmth. “It's takin’ everything I've got not to slide into you right now. You're so warm and wet, and gods- so fucking good.” He gasped between kisses. Your hands grasped at his arm tracing the rough patterns of flesh where muscle melted into sinew and skin. 

“John, please” you keened, earning the most sinful moan from his lips. His hand moved down to your hips grabbing a firm grasp of your hips, the rough pads of his fingers biting into your soft skin. 

“Keep saying that sunshine, and I'll find a way to knock you up for real.” He swore under his breath, shaking fingers helping ease himself between your folds. ”Lean forward for me doll, let me spoil you.” 

You complied your head finding a comfortable smothering within the mattress. 

John leaned forward, grasping at his tricorn hat and set it on his head, tilting the brim below his eyes. He ran his hands along the length of your spine and back down, before one hand found itself rooted on your ass, the other coating his shaft in spit. 

You felt his tip press against your slit, a bright and sudden intrusion, it made your skin crawl. 

“You've got this, sunshine” your lover crooned “taking me so well, just a bit more.” 

The sensation doubled, pinching down your skin plus the added feeling of nausea from the rads. 

“So close baby.” He hummed, kneading your backside. The overwhelming sensation of fullness struck you as he bottomed out. “There we are.” He sighed, twitching inside you like a pulsing core inside a ti-61. You drooled, your eyes squeezed shut, as you shifted your hips to adjust. The tip throbbed against your g spot, sending shivers down the small of your back. 

“Gonna move now baby, fuck-” Hancock found himself at a loss of words, his eyes rolling back as his hips lost its slow rhythm, engulfed within the warm taught core. Your slick dripped down to his balls, as thighs flexed instinctively. The ghoul leaned forward, “cmon baby let me see that face of yours, tell me how good it feels hm?” He groped the back of your hair lifting your face to Piper, “doesn't she look good pip?” 

“So good,” the writer groans, “such a pretty mouth. Can she use it on me?” 

You whine again, drool rolling down your chin. 

“Cum quickly then, I want her attention when I'm filling her gauge.” 

You shuffled forward, your brain melting out of your ears. Your hands found a seat behind the small of her back, placing sloppy kisses on her wet folds. Your toes cramped, chin covered with bliss. Your lips wrapped around her clit, dipping into her with the curve of your tongue. 

She shivered beneath your mouth, covering her mouth as you rock in a makeshift Newton's cradle. 

“Goddamnit.” He cussed, pulling out onto your backside, rutting his member against your ass, biting down on his gnarled lip. 

Piper's legs wrapped around your head like vines reclaiming an abandoned building, lifting her hips to your face. The sounds that bounced against the walls were sloppy and wet, slick dribbled down your folds met with a thick tongue to swipe your taste away. 

McDonough’s nose, or lack thereof, settled in the crest of your ass, one hand pinched around his cock head,varying the sensations directed to your clit. He groaned like a man starved, his tongue memorizing every inch of your sex. 

Piper sighed, finally releasing her grasp on your head, a mournful mumble on her lips “overstimulated I think, lost it again.” 

“You don't have to participate if you don't want to” you rasped out, vision blurring momentarily. 

“Hok. Yeah it's best.” She sighed, as you leaned forward into her chest, ass still arched to John's touch. 

He hummed, sitting up on his knees again, sliding easily inside without resistance. The ghoul gurgled, his hips sending soft pulses to your core, fingers tracing the outside of your clit. Piper's hand found your hair scratching circles into your scalp, you kissed down the soft skin of her neck, John's hips going to long and slow thrusts that made contact with every inch of sensitive muscle inside of you. He balanced a hand on your hip, and one to hold his hat. The reporter lifted a thigh for you to balance on, grinding your clit along as the lush sounds of wet slaps echoed off the peeling walls. 

“This is gonna be my undoing-you're rotten you know that, doll?” John moaned, his pacing stuttering. He squeezed your ass before giving it a quick smack. It stung, turning your skin red. You leaned into his thrusts, your face scrunched in concentration. 

“I wouldn't be this bad without someone rewarding it.” You shot back, hot breath fanning across Piper's neck. You squeezed down around him for good measure, earning a soft cry in return. 

He reached the spot in the back that made a warm pool in the bottom of your stomach.your and squeezed when he found it again, tapping away at the gold mine with restrained thrusts. 

“You're squeezing me so good- am I hitting a nice spot?” He asked, his voice slightly broken from excess and elongated stimulation.

You moaned out in agreement, pipers hands moving under your shoulders to grasp your chest, Massaging the sensitive hidden skin. 

Your head spun, filled with the approving grunts and sighs of your beau and the gentle reassurance of the woman beneath you. You hoped this is what it felt like when you died. 

“M’ gonna pick up the pace, okay? Tell me if it hurts, sweetheart.” Hancock slurred out, his cock knocking against your cervix. You gripped the sheets beneath you for dear life, drool spilling out your lips, spilling into the cleave of pipers chest. John leaned forward grabbing your hair again, a gentle tug to have you upright, quick thrusts that felt pushed against your stomach. He pulled you back; mouth littering the alcove of your neck in bites. Hancocks hand found your clit again rolling it around between his fingertips. 

“John- holy shit-!” you blurted, finding yourself pushing against the seams.

“You cuming for me?” He rasped his teeth, nibbling the sensitive part of your ear. 

“Yeah-” you managed weakly, being split open for another's view. “Fuck- john- love you-” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” He snapped his hips up, teeth digging into your skin, your walls fluttered and held him there like a vice, his legs shaking from his orgasm seconds later. He kissed the back of your neck, pulsing his hips to help you ride out your orgasm. “my sweet girl.” He hummed, “what a trooper you are.” 

You went limp in his arms, crying out softly as he pulled out, curling up around your side to catch his breath. 

“That was amazing.” Piper broke the silence, tucking a curl behind your ear. You smiled tiredly, eyes still closed shut. 

“I will try my best.” You hummed, “my best right now is a good nap.” 

#ghoul fallout #fallout 4 #fallout #fem sosu #fo4 sosu #john hancock fallout 4 #john hancock x sole survivor #bg3 #john hancock #piper x sole survivor #fo4 piper #piper fallout 4 #piper mclean #fallout smut #f04 smut #drabble

[zhakyria]

I had the chance to commission Kahl'ryn from @psychededoodle. I have no words for how much I love this. Everything, all the details, the expression, the scar, the cybernetics, everything is so well done!!

And with this amazing portrait - I'm gonna talk a bit about Kahl and what he is up to in my Arclight AU. So... some rambling thoughts under the cut. :)

For reference: The Arclight AU is a melting pot of various sci-fi franchises. Star Wars, Farscape, WildStar, Star Trek, to just name a few. However, the core of it is Star Wars. A lot of the universe rules are Star Wars rules - such as how space travel works and the Force.

The major players from Star Wars include: the Galactic Empire, the Mandalorians, the Sith Empire, the Chiss Ascendancy, the High Republic, and the Grysk Hegemony.

Much like swtor!Kahl, arclight!Kahl was born in the Sith Empire. His father is the (now former) Sith Lord Xhai'tan. He was trapped in a burning building when he was a child, which is how he got the burn scars. He joined the Imperial Academy and joined Imperial Intelligence upon graduating. Some of his first missions included hunting down terrorists and stopping Darth Jadus. For his double agent arc however, he didn't infiltrate the SIS.

In Arclight the Sith Empire is mostly at odds with the Dominion from WildStar. So, Kahl is tasked with infiltrating the Dominion and carrying out his mission there. The Star Cabal is still a threat and Kahl eventually dismantles it.

Now things really start to diverge. You see, most everything from Shadow of Revan onward doesn't happen. So how does my boy meet Theron?

I made the executive decision that since the Republic isn't the same Republic as in swtor and isn't the power in direct conflict with the Sith Empire, that Theron would instead be from the Dominion. ((I know, I know, not the best allegory if you know anything about the Dominion - like they live up to their name. Does make it way easier for Theron to defect though.))

Then I needed the catalyzing event. Enter the Dread Masters. They were imprisoned by the Dominion, but they escape but with Emperor Vitiate dead (did I mention that? no? So, yeah Emperor Vitiate does die, and after a short war between the Sith, Acina comes out on top and takes the Throne - this is also the time of Malgus's first betrayal,) they go rogue.

Kahl is called in to help with the situation by Lana and she eventually wrangles the help of Theron in tracking and defeating the Dread Masters. Much like in Shadow of Revan, Kahl and Theron grow close.

Then the tradegy of Grismara happens. For those unfamiliar with WildStar. Grismara was home to the Mordesh. A elf-like species who were masters of science, alchemy, and art. They were arrogant and proud, sure of their own superiority. That was until the Everlife Elixir, developed by their most lauded scientist became their curse. The Everlife was meant to give immortality, and they trusted Dr. Lazarin so much that it was distributed worldwide. Then the Everlife became the Contagion. Everyone (and the lore implies everyone) slowly turned into super aggressive mindless cannibals (basically zombies).

Grismara was a neutral world on the edge of Sith and Dominion borders. Both sides were trying to ally with them, but when the Contagion broke out - the Sith turned their back on the world and the Dominion set up a blockade and quarantined it.

Kahl and Theron disobeyed orders to try and help the Mordesh. During that terrible year long attempt at saving the Mordesh, Dr. Lazarin made a small break through. He created the Vitalis Serum, which delayed the effects of the Contagion, but also required frequent injections. The remaining Mordesh were trapped in a half-life. They no longer age (they got their immortality) but they also are unable to have children unless a cure can be found.

Kahl and Theron organized for the last of the Mordesh, to escape. Taking them to the Odessen Coalition. A small and new coalition of planets that came together with the help of Xhai'tan (Kahl's father) and Thrass (who is alive and rescued by Xhai'tan - That is another books of thoughts so if you are curious about how Thrass fits in here feel free to ask.)

With the fall of Grismara, Kahl and Theron defect and join the Coalition. Kahl eventually commanding a heavy cruiser as part of the Maarasu Nighthunters - the Odessen Defense Force division in charge of covert operations and missions that take place beyond the borders of the Coalition. It is Kahl who finds Thrawn and Ezra where they have been stranded for 7 years (again another book of thoughts that I can talk about later). Kahl then goes on to support Thrawn, Thrass, Eli, and the others Chiss fighting to save the Ascendancy.

I'll stop there but....yeah so lots of thoughts.....enjoy!

#arclight: kahl'ryn #my oc #imperial agent #twi'lek #swtor #star wars #star wars au #psychededoodle art #not my art #commissioned art #arclight au #so many thoughts #so much to write #and only the first prologue done #yep think there might be more then one before I am finished #I can and will talk for day to anyone interested about all this

[gurugirl]

Will you give us a little something else for the stepmom!reader fic? I'm really curious about how you'll go about it. Will it be anything like your stepdad!harry one? I hate/love stepdad!harry. I love reading it (super guilty pleasure) but in reality that man would be trash so I also hate him.

I'm really looking forward to the stepmom one though, as a 30 year old woman I feel like usually we see a lot of Harry being older and dominant but it would be fun to look at this in a different perspective with reader being a little older.

YES - i know what you mean about stepdad!harry. he's kind of trash but that's the whole point in that au. it's mostly about the smut. 😂

But for stepmom!reader it's not going to be like that at all. As a woman I cannot see her being toxic in the way I've written harry as stepdad.

This one will have some background about her marriage and the kind of arrangement she and harry's dad have.

While it's still a completely messed up situation, this one will be softer and there will be some pining a bit. I've got almost 20k words written for it already and I'm actually loving it. Harry meets yn when he's in college and an adult so there's nothing too odd about them being attracted to one another. She's about 7 years old than him. Harry will be a virgin but not for lack of confidence or charm. You'll see.

But I'll give you a little teaser below the cut (1.3k words). Enjoy!

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come on Friday as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dancefloor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscaper had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, frozen fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted woman. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

#ask #firstpost #harry styles #harry styles fic #coming soon #stepmom!reader x harry #harry styles x stepmom!yn #harry styles smut #virgin!harry

[zgvlt]

capture my heart, my voice into art sebek zigvolt x reader

summary: As payment for his help in class, you offer to draw something for Sebek. As the weeks go by, it gets difficult to pretend that you're still drawing Malleus and he's only talking to you about his Young Master. Neither of you do a good job at pretending.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, classmates to friends to lovers, 6.0k+ words, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The first fic to a mini-series I'm making based on the five senses! The prompt for this fic is the sense of "sound/hearing"

[you can also read this on AO3]

Sebek Zigvolt is, in every shape and form, terribly obvious with showing his interest. Not the most verbally honest, though he usually is rather blunt about everything, but still honest — everyone can tell with his expressive face (the eyes, the mouth, the eyebrows), his stance (he moves with his whole body), and his voice (his words do not always reflect back on his tone).

Sebek is oblivious to this aspect of himself, or perhaps interprets it in a different way — it's only passion and devotion, is it not? 

There is truth to that statement of course, but you can tell he expects that analysis of him to be about his Young Master, the Malleus Draconia, other adjectives omitted. After all, he's aware that he's known to be a person whose prime interest is Malleus, and he is proud of that. 

It's just that he doesn't seem to be aware that those same symptoms of interest are beginning to leak again in the face of someone else entirely.

Sebek is a person who appreciates talent, can take the time to praise it even coming from someone who isn't fae — Epel Felmier would be an example. Sebek is also a person who, upset as he is to admit it, has difficulties with the more subjective, abstract subjects, to wit: the arts, and anything to do with creativity and imagination over formulas or instructions.

Unfortunate. If he were an artist, he would certainly create portraits upon portraits of his Young Master, maybe even create sculptures or, best yet, gargoyles. 

He supposed not everyone could be as talented as the prince, after all.

Despite his inadequacies, Sebek did take an interest in art, and that was how he found himself taking an interest in you.

You usually sat near him — out of coincidence, he assumed — and now and then you would ask him to repeat things the professors had said, clarifications on instructions you had potentially misheard. He, of course, chided you for not listening properly — or perhaps it had to do with your human hearing. Nevertheless, he would repeat everything previously dictated perfectly.

He knows it's perfect because you don't ask him to repeat it again, clearly satisfied. Of course you are! Receiving help from a student like him?

And then Sebek... worries, just a bit. He will call it sympathy (or pity) if asked, but it's worry. He's a natural worrywart, so when you keep asking him to repeat things, or when a wave of confusion or concern flashes over your face, his natural instinct is to act on it. He is a knight (to-be) after all, isn't it okay for him to want to help, even if it's not directly tied to his duties to the heir of the crown?

"Hopefully I got everything..." you murmured, flipping through your notes as soon as class ended. Sebek thinks back to the few times he looked at you the past hour, the way your eyebrows would furrow and the occasional huh you would whisper, and he knows that no, you didn't.

Sebek sighed, almost like it was a chore for him, and said, "let me take a look, human! I'm sure you must have missed out on something again."

"Thank you, Sebek." 

Sebek is used to people rolling their eyes at him, or even blatantly covering their ears, so it's odd when you simply smile and hand him your notebook, like you're relieved to have his assistance... as you should be, and it's good that you recognize that! It showed you have far more awareness than most humans. Still, it doesn't make it any less baffling for him.

"Surprisingly, most of what you've written matches my notes," he said, and promptly ignored the way you seemed delighted by such a fact. It was just notes, it wasn't an achievement or anything, "but you're missing a few key details, i.e., two ingredients for the potion — the geranium and mint."

"Geranium and mint..." you retrieved your notebook from him, your pencil immediately meeting the paper as you began to sketch a flower — Sebek will assume it's a geranium, since mint is more herb and leaves than flower. 

That was another thing he noticed about you — you liked to draw. He saw it on occasion, the motion of your hand indicating you were sketching something as opposed to writing, but this was the first time he had actually seen you at work. 

“Drawing, huh,” Sebek said, subconsciously peering over your shoulder to get a closer look — only because he had been (note: put himself) in charge of making sure you had been writing down the right things. “It’s a useful talent, being good at art.”

You hummed, throwing him an inquisitive glance. “You’re not going to scold me for doing something unnecessary? Every plant in the room is labeled so it’s not like I actually need to draw this.”

“So you mean the bare minimum? Clearly, human, what you’re doing simply elevates your work above everyone else’s! What if we had a test where we needed to identify the ingredients, and Professor Crewel got rid of the labels to test us? To have a reference image without having it developed or looking at a book is excellent thinking!” Sebek explained for you, failing to notice your look of bewilderment. “Now, if only you could listen more attentively to the professor, I’m sure your work would be on par with mine!”

“That’s more difficult than you think, maybe because I have human hearing,” you said with a laugh, although Sebek did think it a possible reason, “so I hope you don’t mind if I keep asking you for your notes after class. Can I look at your analytical magic notes as well?”

“I should really be going back to the dorm now. I don’t know about your after-school responsibilities, human, but I still have to attend to my duties to the Young Master, and you’re holding me back!” he complained, already bringing out a black notebook. “But it’d be troublesome if you fail the exam tomorrow because you missed something important! Heh! Aren’t you so glad to have a responsible classmate like me, human?!”

“Definitely,” you replied, not even hesitating as you swiped the notebook from his hand, “but if you really need to go, you can just leave this with me, then–”

“Out of the question,” Sebek interrupted, “so hurry up, human!”

“Okay, okay, just a minute!” And then Sebek started counting down from 60 in his head, deciding to take it literally as opposed to the figure of speech. 

… 57, 56, 55, 54, 53–

“You know,” you spoke up, just after eight seconds of writing, “I feel kind of bad for taking up your time like this. I feel like I should pay you back somehow.”

“You absolutely should, and it’s good that even a human like you can realize that! But should is different than could, and I question what you’d be able to give me in the first place.”

“It’s a useful talent, being good at art,” you repeated his own words back to him. “And before you say anything, of course I was listening. Your voice is loud enough to hear at any distance, you know?”

Unable to determine whether the latter part was a compliment or insult, he decided to ignore it by taking it as a fact that everyone was simply too quiet by comparison; thus, he focused on the former point instead. Sebek thought about it — while he’s never seen you draw anything else other than a flower and some leaves, though something gave him the impression that you did draw other things during class, your offer carried a hint of determination that Sebek could admire, even if there was barely any basis to prove the extent of your capabilities.  

The first year took another glance at your alchemy notebook — well, he at least liked the way you drew the ingredients. He wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.

“I could draw you.”

“Just why would I want my likeness taken? There’s no reason for it — I don’t have anyone to give it to,” Sebek asked with confusion, one that you mirrored as you absorbed his reply.

“What? Why would you give…? I mean, is it not the typical request to have a drawing done of you — not of you you, mind you, I mean for someone to request a drawing of themselves?”

“Is it? That’s odd, I doubt that many people in this college are in the midst of courting someone,” and even if they were, would they even have the eloquence to court someone as properly as I would? Sebek sighed — no wonder a majority of these students weren’t in relationships — it wasn’t just that they wanted to focus on their studies like him, but that they were unable to get someone to agree to become their partner. 

That aside, even if one wanted to get a portrait or sketch done, there were far better options for the subject choice. 

“That said, I wouldn’t be against a well-meaning attempt at drawing the Young Master,” Sebek suggested. It was not a requirement per say — if you said you wouldn’t be able to, he would understand it; after all, it was difficult to actually capture the prince’s greatness in one still frame, but was not any paper or canvas with said prince’s likeness great? That was why he would appreciate even the attempt itself, if you agreed.

“I should have expected this,” you replied, a tinge of amusement laced in your voice, “like I could, if you want, but I don’t have a good frame of reference. It’s not like I have the opportunity to get up close and personal with him.”

“Well I’m not giving you a chance to do so either,” he huffed, “so don’t expect that out of this exchange, human! However, I will allow you to go to my room to check the portrait of the Young Master I have displayed! I believe that will make sufficient reference, yes? And, to make sure you are not lacking in passion, I will talk about the Young Master to inspire you!”

A part of him wondered if you would refuse. He knew a lot of people were unappreciative, blind to the splendor of the Great Malleus Draconia, so while he would be appalled he would not be surprised. However, after a minute of you looking down at his notebook, you made eye contact with him once more and nodded.

“If you don’t think I’ll be a disturbance, I’d be glad to.”

There weren’t enough people in school willing to listen to him talk about his Young Master Malleus, so he was more than just a little exhilarated at the opportunity to talk to someone, even if it was just so he could inspire you to draw his dorm leader to the best of your abilities. 

Sebek enjoyed stories, not just reading but telling them as well. That was to say, Sebek, a person who had a lot to say about anything and everything, genuinely enjoyed having someone to talk to, and it just so happened that of all possible topics, he found that talking about the tales of the Malleus Draconia’s Martial Might would not only be the most interesting for him, but for everyone else as well.

Not only was it interesting, but it was incredibly easy for him to recount everything without so much a reference on hand. Reciting everything from memory, allowing him the freedom to move as animatedly as possible and subconsciously showing off his own talent for martial arts — the motion of his hands as he (the best he could with the space in the room) recreated any poses or actions that you might have difficulty imagining from his words alone, eventually standing up to demonstrate a kick or two himself. He would argue he still had a long way to go, though. 

Still, what was even more eye-catching about Sebek at that moment was not his athletic prowess or memory, but his face — a handsome face, yes, but it was always a sight to behold when his serious (or as others would describe, intimidating resting face) expression turned beatific, beaming with pride over Malleus’ achievements and abilities as though they were his own, or perhaps because they represented a goal for him to accomplish, a greatness he wished to become. 

Whatever it was, it lit Sebek’s eyes up like lightning to a stormy sky, and with the lightning came the booming thunder of his voice, loud and yet, paired with his jubilant mood and exuberant expression, it was difficult to find it terrifying. 

(But if you were to be asked, with how often he’s helped you, when was the last time you’ve found him terrifying?)

Unbeknownst to him, he made for quite the captivating sight.

And then, approximately an hour into retelling the first part of his story, he finally noticed it — he understood that looking at the speaker while they were talking was the polite thing to do, just as he was predominantly looking at you as his audience, but you’d hardly glanced at the portrait on the wall! Had you looked while he was looking away? Not impossible, but improbable — he made sure to keep his eyes on you, not looking away for more than a few seconds at a time, so he would have known! Did you not think it was a good painting?

“Is there a problem, human?” Sebek asked suddenly. You had barely asked him any questions but you were drawing in your sketchbook, so he didn’t think you were distracted or uninterested or anything of the sort, but why would you stare at him so inquisitively if not to question him? “You keep staring at me. Do you take issue with something I’ve said, or maybe you’re not sure if you heard right? I know Young Master Malleus’ skills sound otherworldly, but you need not to see to believe, I assure you they are the absolute truth!!!”

“A problem…?” you muttered quietly, or at least quietly by Sebek’s standards. You seemed torn about whether to actually speak up or not, before eventually deciding that you should. “I suppose there is one, but it has nothing to do with you… or your Young Master! It’s just getting late, isn’t it? I should probably go and actually start that essay we have due tomorrow.”

Right. There were obligations to be fulfilled — schoolwork on both of your ends, and his own guard duties that would resume once more for dinnertime. Still, he could not help himself from being the slightest bit upset, a feeling he couldn’t quite keep to himself.

“That’s… unfortunate. I was nearly done with the first part of the tale,” Sebek claimed, frowning as he stood up, already having accepted that he should escort you out of his dorm room. “I was getting to the best scene of that part, too…”

No more than a minute had passed before you made your offer, “I can come back tomorrow?”

Sebek perked up immediately, unaware that his excitement was bleeding through his face.

“Do you want — are you able to?”

“It feels like I should be asking you that,” you replied, shutting your sketchbook tightly, “since you’re so busy all the time… I mean it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but I can come back to… have more time to refine my sketch and to, you know, listen to you.” At that, Sebek grins, teeth all on display and eyes once more alight. Perhaps lightning does strike twice in the same place.

When exactly did he begin anticipating your presence? When did he start saving snacks in his drawers instead of eating them, storing them to share with you when you came over?

“If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? For me…”

Your sketchbook laid atop his desk, untouched for what must have been twenty minutes — or, practically since the time of your arrival.  

When did he stop asking you about when you’d finish the sketch (sketches? There had to be more than one at this point), and when did he stop caring about how fast he got through his recount of his Young Master’s achievements? When did he start looking forward to the random exciting and yet mundane conversations he shared with you instead? 

And why did it delight him that he was capable of sharing conversations with you outside of his Young Master and outside of academics?

“If I have something I’m lacking in — obviously there’s many things, as I’m far too young to compare to the Young Master and Master Lilia — I just work hard to improve myself,” Sebek replied. Neither of you seemed completely satisfied with his answer, probably because Sebek knew it wasn’t quite right. Not that he owed to you any story or secret about himself, but he supposed he could mention one thing.

“...Although, back when I was younger, I used to pull up my ears a lot, hoping it would look the same as my mother, and the Young Master, and…” and everyone else in the Valley. “Of course, I know now that you can’t change things like that without magic or potions, and certainly not for good!”

You looked up from the papers in your hand, choosing to look at him again, like you tended to do when you were in his dorm room. It still baffled him why you looked at him a lot (was it really just out of politeness?), but he never bothered to tell you to stop for reasons he couldn’t quite understand himself. 

The sound of papers shuffling in your hand prevented silence from encompassing the room. Homework. The both of you were supposed to be doing homework. How did the both of you get here?

“I think I get where you’re coming from,” you commented, “but if you ask me, you’re already fine, though.”

“Fine?”

“As in good. Physical appearance wise, aren’t you already good as you are?” you let out a non-condescending laugh, “I mean, maybe you could let your hair down, it’s always good to let your hair rest from products every now and then, but hey! If having it up is more convenient for you!”

He didn’t really register that part about his hair (although he did hear it, and he might think about it eventually), a little too focused on the first part. He felt like a fool — his heart was thumping, and it was a comment about his ears for crying out loud! Get yourself together, Sebek Zigvolt!

“Compliments are unnecessary, human. I’m already helping you anyway, I’m not going to stop because of some lack of praise on your end!” Not that there was a lack of praise. It embarrassed him at times, how easily the praise and gratitude came from your end, and yet he still looked at you expectantly for it every time he did something to help you, or did anything he thought admirable in general.

“Except I’m not complimenting you just because,” you insisted, a firm gentleness to your tone, “we’re friends now, aren’t we? I’m just letting you know what I think.”

“Friends! How bold to attach a label like that just on your own!” he exclaimed, and yet he did nothing to discourage it. 

He and Silver were the only two people from Briar Valley born in the same generation, and he would rather drink black coffee (without the milk!) than admit that guy was his friend… which meant that, for Sebek, friends were incredibly few and far between. He never quite considered the importance of having any close confidants, everyone too unworthy, and yet… Friend. It was a label that felt right to describe what relationship he had with you at this moment.

Yes, he supposed there was no shame in having a human friend, not if that friend was you.

He hadn’t known that you and Silver shared a class together. While he knew he shared almost every class with you, hard not to notice when you went from sitting near him to right beside him at every given opportunity, he hadn’t realized the one exception had been a class with Silver. Not that it mattered, he just naturally assumed that because the two of you were in different years…

There really wasn’t an issue with you being classmates with Silver… or there wasn’t going to be, until his fellow guard asked you a question.

“Aren’t you in the same grade as Sebek?”

“Mhm, classmates, even.”

“Really? Then, what do you think about him? Isn’t his voice the most annoying you’ve ever heard?”

Sebek held his breath, stopping himself from barging into the conversation uninvited, even if the conversation was about him in the first place. He stood still against the wall, hiding — since when did he start hiding? — from a person he grew up with in Briar Valley, and from a person he actually considered a friend, a label he attached to you in his head. It was too quiet, he wished either one of you would be a little louder.

“What? Of course not!” you replied, as though you hadn’t even thought of it. He can’t see you from his position, and he’s unwilling to sneak a peek in the case that you coincidentally lock eyes with him, but he thought you at least sounded genuine. Really, you could have stopped there and Sebek would have been able to move on with his day, but you just had to add one more thing.

“Actually, I like his voice a lot,” you admitted, and Sebek loathed that he couldn’t hear what else you had said thereafter — was he too far away? Were you whispering? Today in particular, couldn’t his hearing have been more fae-like? Silver might have said something, too, but he hardly cared about that now, couldn’t care less about why Silver even said such a thing in the first place.

You liked his voice — something that was a part of him, and something that was more than just his usefulness to you, something outside of his identity as Malleus Draconia’s guard. Sure, you mentioned being fine with other aspects of him, but it was one thing to say it to his face, where he could pin it on politeness and a desire to curry favor, and it was a different thing to say it to someone else, not knowing he was just around the corner listening.

There was a part of him that wanted to reprimand himself — him and not you, although he wished he could still blame you for the things you make him do, the things you make him feel. It was always easier to blame you because you were human, you and your humanity that was as warm as sunlight, but if he had blamed you then it would not be instinctive but forced. 

He detested the sudden surge of affection he felt for you then and there. Aside from the fact that it was so simple a statement that he should have felt nothing at all, he hated how he appreciated being seen as someone apart from his Young Master’s guard and devotee. He’s always felt pride in being associated with the prince, so why did it suddenly matter that he wanted to be more than just that classmate you always went to for help, that classmate who was dedicated to Malleus Draconia, when it came to you? 

However, even with the bouts of self-admonishment and confusion, he didn’t do much of anything to stop himself from feeling exhilarated at such modest and meager praise. Sebek was never exactly insecure about his voice, he was proud and always spoke loud enough to be heard, but he still knew what people said about his volume, even if he didn’t necessarily agree. Why did it matter if people thought differently? Why should it matter if he was liked by the human populace? 

Perhaps that was partly why the comment caught him so off-guard. How unexpected it was, how you committed to not simply finding it alright, but to liking it!

Simply put, he was electrified by you. There was the shock that stuck with him for what felt like eons but what must’ve been minutes, something so difficult for him to comprehend, and then the shock died down to what it was now — tingles, all over his body and even his mind. It must have infiltrated his mind as well, for even when he willed himself to finally walk away from the scene he couldn’t quite stop thinking about you, to the point that he had missed the knowing stare Silver had thrown his way as he passed.

Sebek wondered if there were other things you liked about him, and with a newfound desperation he wished he could find out without having to actually ask, for pride’s sake.

Sebek’s never been that aware of his voice before, but because of your words he’s been rendered conscious of it. As he told you about his training today (actually, he was supposed to continue with the fourth part of Young Master Malleus’ Martial Might, but you ended up asking about his day so he ended up deviating from that), Sebek wondered — did his voice sound nice today, and did you like it today as well? 

In his head, he thought himself quite foolish again for not having gotten over it, but since that day it, and by association you, was all he could really think about when he had nothing else to keep him occupied. 

It was strange. He had always assumed thinking of someone who wasn’t Malleus or Lilia would be nothing but a distraction, but that hadn’t been the case. Funnily enough, you had not distracted him at all — rather, he was quite motivated to finish all his tasks so he could have free time to either talk to you or think about you.

He hadn’t tried very hard to stop himself from thinking about you. It was normal to think about things that bother you, and he was no longer that cowardly kid who ran away from things that scared him. In fact, he actually quite indulged himself in imagining what exactly you thought of him.

Did you actually like listening to him talk? Or did you just like the sound of his voice? He knew holding your attention wasn’t something guaranteed, but he’d like it if you paid attention to the times he told you about his childhood or his family, or a memory that he happened to recall while talking to you. 

If you liked the sound of his voice… what did you like about it? Was it the volume? A tone or accent he wasn’t too aware of? Maybe pacing or pronunciation? 

Then there was your voice — Sebek found he quite liked it as well, although unlike you he’s never voiced that opinion out to anyone. You didn’t talk much the first time he brought you to his room to show you the portrait, but the more times you sat down with him on the floor or atop his bed you talked to him more and belatedly, Sebek realized there was something in particular he liked about you — when you talked to him, listened to him, you made it a point to at least lock eyes with him for a few seconds. Even when you weren’t looking into his eyes, your eyes were still on him.

Sebek liked that you looked at him, an intimacy he’s only ever read about and imagined for himself far into the future, but never thought he would get a glimpse of now. It almost felt wrong — shouldn’t these types of feelings be reserved for those in relationships? That was always what he was taught, but the thought of being liked by you in some way or another felt too good to pass up. 

Sebek wanted you to keep looking at him, so just as he was coming to terms with the fact that there were things — many things, so it seemed — he liked about you, the way you kept looking down at your sketchbook whenever he opened his mouth gave way to a bitter taste whenever he closed it. It was annoying, and he wasn’t sure what displeased him more — that you’ve been drawing so much today, or himself for being annoyed that you were drawing his Young Master. He was the one who asked for it, wasn’t he?

At the same time, he was talking about himself and not retelling a tale, so he wasn’t exactly talking to inspire you, was he? When he asked about your day he listened quite attentively, so he would at least like the same courtesy extended to him.

“Human, you’re not being very polite right now!” he scolded, attempting to mask his own frustrations. It wasn’t going too well — Sebek had come off as insulted, glaring at the object atop your lap as though it had personally offended him, and, unbeknownst to him, jealous. “Right now, shouldn’t you be paying attention to me and me alone?”

“I am–”

“Not completely,” he countered, quickly swiping the sketchbook while you were too busy being surprised at his change of attitude. A part of him did feel bad — he knew he was just as impolite to do as such, and you’ve told him before that it was rude to peek without permission, so he loosened his grip in case you wanted it back immediately. “Can’t you just continue this later? What needs your attention so much that you have to sketch while we’re–”

“Wait, Sebek, just let me close it!”

“Close it? Surely I can do that for you,” Sebek sighed, looking down to shut the cover quickly, only briefly getting a glimpse of the page with a smiling man and–

Sebek looked back up to watch your expression shift into one of fluttering embarrassment, a fluster that only affirmed that he had not been affected by an illusion or some newly discovered delusion of his. He knew what his young master looked like better than most people, and that hornless, human-eared boy on the page was no Malleus Draconia.

Oh.

“Could I…?” he asked, even though he had already seen — perhaps he just wanted to confirm it really was him you’ve been drawing, and maybe just for your sake as well. He thought you’d prefer it if he asked anyway.

You reached out a hand, still not making eye contact with him, turning to one of the first few pages with drawings from far earlier. The page you flipped to had a sketch of the First Prince of Briar Valley, and as much as he liked it and would have appreciated seeing it some other time, there was something else he wanted to see more.

“It was probably obvious, but I finished sketching Malleus weeks ago.” As you explained, you allowed him to turn the pages for himself, letting him discover what else laid on the pages. “I drew him a few more times just so you wouldn’t get suspicious, but after a while you stopped asking about if I was done or if you could see so I just…”

He flipped to the next page, seeing multiple sketches, of different sizes and poses and angles, all of the same person. Then he flipped to the next, and the one after, and although you drew other things as well, the fact stood that you had developed a favorite subject. 

“I like the way you talk. I mean, for a while, even before this, I’ve already, you know,” you suddenly confessed, although you didn’t appear or sound prepared for it at all, “I mean you’ve always helped me in class even when you say you won’t do more than give me a few hints, and whenever I ask you to repeat something you don’t just say never mind like people normally would?

“And then you made that request and I thought it was a good chance to get to know you, but then you just had to be so–” you paused for a moment, openly letting out a small shout against one of his pillows. Sebek understood the feeling, he wished he could do the same as well but his will to look good and put-together in front of you would not allow it. Not that he was that put-together at all, with his mind doing sprints and his face and ears heating up as hotly as a dragon’s fire.

“Your expressions whenever you talked about Malleus or Lilia, or something that annoyed you, or even when you were scolding me… all of those were so cute, and cool, and you were so passionate about everything that I just had to–” you made an up and down motion with your hands, “–but that’s no excuse. I should have asked you first if it was alright. If you want, I could just give you those sketches and let you do whatever you wanted with them.”

Sebek didn’t speak immediately. He had listened, yes, but he wanted to flip through the pages a little longer, in particular comparing your first depiction of him to the latest one from today. It would be wrong to say one had more effort put into it than the other, unfair considering he thought they were both excellent, with a bias he thought he was now allowed to have. 

However, there was one clear distinction — the first, and several after that, looked almost like an experiment, as if you were just trying to figure him out. The one from today, though, was drawn as if you knew who he was, like you were sure of your perception of him as a person, and most of all, you drew him as if you enjoyed drawing him, as if you liked him for more than just his voice and his expressions.

It was then that Sebek realized just how you saw him.

“...No,” Sebek replied, oddly softly, but that did not last for very long. The first year cleared his throat, his voice booming once more, “absolutely not. You will be keeping those, and you may continue to draw me as much as you want under ONE condition —

“You… I demand you give me a portrait, a sketch, any artwork of you!” Sebek huffed, attempting to maintain whatever confidence and composure he had left. “Normally, in these situations, I should send in a painting of myself first, but as you already have so many sketches of me, it’s only right that I have something with your likeness as well! That– that is to say, ahem, I can also give you other things, of course. Since you like my voice, surely I can ask Master Lilia for some books containing fae poetry? Or… human! Are you laughing?”

“No! No, I’m just…” you shaking shoulders and puffs of incredulous laughter slowed to a stop, “you’re not mad? And you seriously like me back?” As if noticing the look he was giving you, you reiterate your statement, “I don’t doubt your feelings and I know you’re not lying, I just never would have… you said you wanted to focus on your duties, so I never would have thought you would be interested.”

“I remember telling you once — I did want to, in the future,” Sebek said, openly showing his uncertainty. He had never been in a relationship before, so he had no idea how to proceed — it was as if the advice he’d received from his seniors had mysteriously vanished from his head, leaving nothing but crumbs on how to woo you, “I don’t know now, considering my priorities, but… I want the chance to capture your heart for myself, and just for myself — if you’d let me.”

“Sebek…”

“I now know well how you see me, so this time, let me tell you what I think of you. Make sure to listen closely!”

my other sebek fic end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist

[1] I know Sebek gets slandered for his voice, but I really like it! Personally I like loud people, when I talk to people who talk loudly I understand what they’re saying really well and I don’t have to ask them to repeat 🥺 and, well, Sebek is the type of person who’ll chide you for not listening but will repeat something anyway. It saddens me when people say “whatever” or “never mind”, Sebek would never! Also his diction? His expressiveness? His passion? Sebek would make a wonderful speaker for a talk, or debates, or honestly even theatre! He’s so wonderful! The whole purpose of this fic was just to show how much I love Sebek’s voice! I think it’d be cute if he talked softly for you as well, but Sebek is Sebek so no matter the volume I think he’s cute.

[2] In choosing the reader's personality, I went with someone he can admire (talent wise and eventually personality as well) but also help at the same time, for the sake of his ego and because he wants to be someone useful, wants someone to praise him. Sebek is a certified dog boy, after all, so the reader thanks and praises him quite openly (most of the time). Compared to the rader from the stories told, the charm you hold, they’re a lot less smooth, though. I wanted them to have their typical “teen embarrassing moment”, and in this one it’s drawing your crush and doodling his name on your sketchbook (bc Sebek checks their notebooks they cant play MASH or FLAMES there lol)

[3] Flower symbolism isn’t exactly constant everywhere. Geraniums symbolize friendship and happiness (which is why it’s mentioned at the very start, where they’re just beginning to be friends) but also stupidity and foolishness. The latter two, I wanted to give it a nice connotation, so they’re stupid fools who will be in love with each other soon, of course.

[4] Mint I mostly went with because of Sebek’s hair color (also doesn’t he seem like the type to use mint-scented shampoo…?), but I also like the meaning of “virtue, protection, personal strength”, I thought, “that’s so Sebek!”

[5] You could say this is my second fic with an artist!reader, but compared to the Vil fic I wanted to distinguish how this reader isn’t really a professional or anything (unless the reader imagines them to be). They just like art and they draw, no specific style other than they at least use a pen/cil sometimes, which I feel like is more relatable for people. And Sebek likes what the reader makes, that’s about it, really.

[6] (“Is it? That’s odd, I doubt that many people in this college are in the midst of courting someone,” and [...]) In this part, I just wanted Sebek to call everyone in NRC, excuse my language, bitchless. I just think it would be funny that out of all people, Sebek’s one of the few people who gets himself a significant other. 

[7] Malleus’ Martial Might is a reference to Sebek’s 2022 Valentines Day card

[8] Silver’s question is a line ripped from his SR Labwear card, although I used the JP translation from twstarchives as reference, so I’m not exactly sure if the wording is the same on EN.

[9] The reader could be the prefect (who happens to share multiple classes with Sebek) or from another world but not necessarily Yuu, I just decided to leave it ambiguous who they were and if they were magicless or not since it doesn’t really matter. I just wanted them to be in their first year as well.

[10] For the ending, instead of being in a relationship right away I went with Sebek basically deciding he should go through the “courting” process first… basically there isn’t exactly a label yet, but there’s a mutual affection, or “MU” as we would call it in Filipino terms. I decided to cut it off there because I didn’t want to give too much information about the reader for immersion/imagination purposes.

#twst x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst imagines #sebek zigvolt #twst x you #twst #twisted wonderland #nathya twst writing #sebek x reader

[just-a-space-rabbit]

Rendez-miss-vous

TW: Kiddnaping

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Villain was walking as calmly as they could, trying not to panic. ‘The mission had gone BAD, really, really bad! the only way it can get wors right now is getting caught!’

They walked thru the busy streets at a brisk pace, not fast enough to be suspicious, but hopefully not slow enough for the heroes to catch up. Villain had made blending in among civilians into an art form and was quite proud of it. A quick disguise left them as indistinguishable from the other civilians around them.

All they had to do was get to the rendezvous point and give the signal for Supervillain to pick them up. Supervillain would no doubt be angry at them for this failure but there was little to be done with that for now, so Villain stored that thought for later.

They cut off the street and walked into the small park, behind them they could still hear the noise of the police sirens gathering at the crime scene. Finally, they reached the statue.

Just as they and Supervillain had planned, Villain started the hidden signal. They when down on one knee and began to re-tie their shoe before going into a fake coughing fit and then… Nothing?

Villain got up trying not to look flustered ‘Maybe they did not see it?’  Walking closer to the statue they did everything again but slower this time, making sure they were fully visible to Supervillains hiding spot.

But no Supervillain showed up… ‘oh… so there are other ways this mission could go WORSE!’

…

“I’m a so sorry!” Supervillain said as they handed the not-Villain-in-a-disguise a cup of tea with honey.

A verry confuse Hero took the warm cup and was about to thank them for it when they went into another coughing fit. ‘So much for taking time of work to rest. Seems like work found me anyway…’ Hero thought, as Supervillain vanished into the kitchen again looking for something.

Everything today was just a blur, all Hero could remember was needing to buy something at the shop, then on the way there, they almost tripped over their lose shoelaces in the park, bent down to tie them up, and then… they where here in Supervillains base.

What was odd to Hero, is that Supervillain seemed just as confused about it all as Hero did.

Luckily Supervillain found out that Hero was not Villain before they found out that Hero was well… Hero. But they did have to give Supervillain their fake civilian identity instead. ‘God, when the agency finds out about this, I’m going to be in so much trouble…’

“Now, listen to me Civilian” Supervillain said coming back with a small plate with some cut up fruits. There was a bit of worry in their voice, but they tried to hide it. “I need to go pickup Villain, once they are back, I’ll put out a ransom for your freedom. Don’t worry it will be nothing big! But not to small so it’s not suspicious, then the agency won’t think you are an accomplish in this, ok?”

“Yeah… ok” Hero said with a hoarse voice. At that Supervillain just gave a thumbs up before they vanished into thin air.

‘Could this day go any worse?’ Hero thought as they sat in Supervillain’s base alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This was meant to be a prompt but turned into a little snippet :3

Also, if anyone is interested in only my writing/art then I do have an blog where I only reblog my original stuff: @space-rabbit-portfolio (though, I do sometimes mess up and reblog to the wrong blog :P)

#villain x supervillain #hero and villain #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #snippet #my writing #writing #TW: Kiddnaping #I got no clue if the title is funny or confusing either way got no better idea for a name for it so it will stay :P

[genevawren38]

I am just going to put this at the top : this post is going to be a long vent about missing Technoblade, please scroll on if you do not wish to read.

We are coming up on two years without him.

We are also coming up on three years since I discovered his content.

I thought I was at the point I could watch one of his videos tonight, as I used to often do when I am doing tasks or writing he was always the background noise I used. I remember calling into work when he streamed for the sheer sake of enjoying them while they happened the few times I caught them before...well. I think you know. He was the reason my passion for writing came back to life and I believed I could actually follow my lifelong dream of eventually publishing a story.

But I suppose the part I always forget about grief is the absence of the unique spirit that person brought to your life. I found his content and engaged with it instantly, developing one of the longest running fixations I have had in a good while. The sheer excitement I'd have getting the notification he went live for one of his rare streams.

I don't think it truly sunk in when he announced his diagnosis. I remember discussing it with the irl friend who got me into watching him and both of us laughed, saying he's strong enough to fight off anything.

A few months pass with his rare posts and there was always this tiny little bit of intuition I had where he never told us what severity of cancer it was. Like he was a very private guy, yes, but this seemed extra...odd.

Then I remember the way my heart sunk when 'so long nerds' popped into my notification bar. The dashing of my heart against the floor texting people as I tearfully listened to Technodad tell us the words his son Alex wished for us to hear.

Its been a long two years. Its been great ones, tbh. I found a new passion with QSMP and Hermitcraft after the finishing of DSMP [tho c!Techno will forever remain close to my heart]. I kept writing, with over half a million words in published fics on ao3 and several WIP including 3 original novels.

But the only one I ever wanted to thank for helping me find my creativity again I can't, and I never will be able to.

I miss Technoblade.

I will never stop missing him.

I wish he could have laughed with his friends for many years yet, being silently proud of their accomplishments while he messed with people on the QSMP. I wish he could have had another MCC with friends.

I wish his unique soul wasn't taken from us so soon, as we weren't done following our hero yet.

But the only thing I can do now is continue to speak his tales. The first book I properly publish, the gratitude page is going to be addressed to him. I will continue to tell others about his accomplishments and tell them to go watch his content on his Youtube channel [get him to 17 million!]! Buy some of his merch [when it comes back in stock]! Support his family & friends!

Though he would call us nerds for crying, I think its beautiful how many lives he touched and how many thousands mourned his passing. He was a light all corners of the MCYT sphere and beyond saw and respected, and not too many creators can claim such an honour.

I'll always be a Voice at my core. Even if I spend my time these days as a crow, a huevito, a ferret, a tubling, a doozer and many more, my heart will forever belong to Technoblade.

Please keep creating art and writing in his name. I love scrolling the fanart tags and adore every piece I come across with my favourite piglin in them. Please, please, please keep saying his name. Sing his legends. Make references, continue the jokes, hang out in one of his friends chats and support the people he loved.

Support those who are still here, even if your heart hurts.

It's only painful because we all loved him so much, which is a beautiful type of sorrow.

#wrenrambles #technoblade #subscribe to technoblade #technoblade never dies #techno fanart #dsmp techno #technoblade fanart #technofanart #technoblade fanfiction #technoblade fanfic #technobladefanart

[starshipqstar]

On a supportive queer fandom, community, and making our first ever animation

Making the Starship Q Star animation has largely been wonderful - we got to make a show we love and learnt a LOT. As two writers new to producing the format (Lauren had only written for kids animation) - it was a huge learning curve. A learning cliff if you will. Whilst we had to cut a lot out for time and budget, we're really proud of how they turned out within the constraints. And by the end? Lauren and I coloured most of the final episode and I did all the compositing and VFX myself (all in Toon Boom Harmony - a program neither of us had used a few months before).

Animation is also still a bit of a boys club - so we committed to finding a design and animation team that was diverse as possible, and reflected what the project was about. I'm proud to say that we managed that (out of our cast & crew of 24, only 3 were cis-men - and most were queer). We also gave opportunities to diverse creatives who hadn't had jobs in the industry before - and have since seen some of them use the experience to get more paid work. You simply love to see it! All of the cast and crew are incredibly special and brought amazing things to the show - an absolute dream team.

It hasn't been easy at all - animation is a LOT of work, and the budget didn't allow for all the support we probably needed, so it was months of unpaid work for the two if us, and a number of weeks working 15-20 hour days to get it done. But we bloody well did it!

But since the show has been out, it's been a bit of a... reality check? Having been immersed in the audio drama community with Starship thus far - we perhaps got a little too used to how incredible supportive (and perhaps queer?) everyone is.

Another animation project is part of the same initiative as we are, and it was one of the first projects released. The creator is a really lovely and talented guy who has made a special show we really enjoyed. His show went kind of viral - which is AWESOME! It's great! However due to his experience on certain other projects... some of the fans of his show... aren't necessarily our audience? And the nature of the initiative means only some projects get chosen to make more.

The first comment on YouTube a few minutes after the Ep 1 of Starship Q Star was published was "make more [the other show]". Then our socials started getting homophobic and really negative comments (and trust me I have spent a long time curating that tiktok algorithm lol). At first I thought it was weird or maybe it was just because we were being shared by a third party so the wrong audience were finding us - but then they also included comments like "[the other show] is better".

I honestly find it odd that some fans take it upon themselves to do stuff like this. Making art is hard! And liking one thing better than something else doesn't mean you have to actively hate that something else! There's room for us all to succeed (well, once we take care of that pesky thing called capitalism). And maybe remember that when it's an indie project the people who made the thing are usually the ones running the socials lol.

We are so grateful to have had so many incredible people love and champion the show in both audio and animated format. And we feel so lucky to be a part of both the queer and audio drama community (yes I know that venn diagram is a circle) - it truly is such a special supportive environment that lifts one other up.

Anyway, I'll probably delete this (way too earnest - eww) but thanks to all the lovely ones out there. We really love and appreciate all of you and all the nice comments and messages and shares. Means the world!

#audio drama #fiction podcast #lgbtqia+ #animation #queer #queer community #lgbtq community #audio fiction

[zeravmeta]

yknow that saber/cu alter art post has me thinking it really is fascinating to me that saber and cu have a ton of similar qualities in choosing a heroic fate they knew would ultimately lead to suffering and like, the core difference between them I feel is that saber chose her heroic ideals for the sake of others and cu chulainn chose it for himself

saber in a lot of ways has a similar potential towards inhumanity/being monstrous the same way cu does (being referred to as a child of dragons, the stoic impassive uncaring face of a king no one really understands, the lion king as a whole is a prime example of this) where you can feed too deeply into one aspect of them but that would never really erase the base, cu alter even as a modified beast king is still proud to have been cu chulainn much in the same way that the lion king or saber alter are still at their core kings trying to support their people for the sake of their ideals. and like for all that those are definitely major parts of their beings it's not their whole, they could certainly Be monstrous and in some respects can be considered monsters but they are not only that,

and like what really makes this fascinating to me is that no one ever really tries to save cu chulainn from his heroism the way people tried to save saber from hers.

so many people saw the cruelty saber committed against herself for the sake of others and have tried to save her from it, which in turn led to their own types of disasters. you cant save the legendary king who already died because she still chose this fate for herself, but people still tried against impossible odds. you cant say that cu chulainn didnt also suffer for his heroism, anyone even halfway familiar with his story knows just how much he suffered for the sake of being a hero, knowing his fate would be that of a short tenure of unmatched glory. even if he did choose it for himself, saber also chose her own fate knowing it would lead to a disgraceful end, just because one did it for his own sake and another did it for the sake of others doesnt erase that it is still cruelty towards oneself to become a hero. and like, they also share the pride in their choices! for all that she knows she has regrets about its fall saber would still choose to be the king of camelot a million times over because it was worth it to her despite the tragedy and suffering, to try and stand for a greater cause as a king and a hero, much in the same way that even if he has way more blood on his hands than he would ever be comfortable with, knowing that there are more victims in his path than actual enemies, cu chulainn is still proud to have been a hero and would always choose to be a hero.

romani once said that once you become a hero you no longer belong to yourself, you are now something beyond human who has given up their chance in order to stand tall among the rest of human history. and i feel like this sentiment is the crux of both saber and cu's dynamics with archer and medb, because both of them see the person instead of the hero.

archer stands in a unique position compared to saber and cu because hes the nobody hero who's arguably suffered far worse than them but for all that he looks down on heroism he still does respect both of them deeply as heroes. hes able to insult cu as hard as he does during their fight at the church because he understands cu and knows how to directly spit on his pride, and as shirou there's every action he took throughout the entirety of fsn to try to connect with and save saber from the burden of being the unmatched king and hero. always understanding but never being understood he is every bit their equal as a hero but he does not really like being a hero. archer understands them as people and cannot accept them as heroes because hes so embittered by his own endless experiences as a hero that he cannot see heroism as anything other than an endless path of bloodshed. and in a lot of ways he is right, neither saber nor cu can deny that their choices as heroes led to far more people dying than they were prepared for, but that doesn't mean they didn't see those choices through to the end, and even now still would. in a similar vein, medb is the "king" equivalent of their parallel the way shirou/archer is the "hero" equivalent: medb does love cu, but she doesn't demand the heroic legacy of cu chulainn to be hers, the very first thing she did in america with a grail was try to alter cu so that he Wouldn't be everyone else's hero but a king who would stand at her side, and yet cu alter still ended up being as equally heroic as cu chulainn because the heroism is a core part of him, you cant take away any part of cu because they are inherent to the whole; cu chulainn may be a monster but he isnt only a monster, he is also a hero. knocknarea and catoria are also part of this, offshoots of the people they are based on where the core of their dynamic is what knocknarea wants castoria to take control of her own destiny and go forth not as a the legend but as the person. oberon describes that the only real difference between medb and knocknarea is that medb is simply the version whose searching for love but knocknarea was always searching for love and the one person she connected to in the century she was around in fairy britain was the child of prophecy meant to absolve the land of its sins, quite literally the hero who has to die in order to save the world.

saber and cu may be wildly different in a lot of aspects but they are ultimately two sides of the same coin on the idea of heroism. neither is right and neither is wrong for what is the best version of a hero or themselves, but what matters the most is that despite the suffering, it was still their choices to be a hero. maybe they could be saved, maybe they were saved, maybe they never needed to be saved in the first place, all of that is secondary to them having made their choices and dying for them. no one ever saved saber because you couldn't save her no matter what, but no one ever saved cu chulainn because he never wanted to be saved.

that is the price of being a hero

#no specific overall point just thinking about the ogs #anyways what i am saying is that they need to double team archer AND be double teamed by medb (singular) #and also something medb desires them the person above them the concept. RBY color wheel craved carnally by the pink one (not on color wheel #fate stay night #fate grand order #zerav meta

[hornystiel]

suptober day 4: wicked

ficlet for my art that can be found here

(1,3k, explicit and kinky, endverse!cas/dean smith)

"Cas, please." Dean is blushing so prettily and already looks so destroyed under the heel of his combat boot, that for one brief moment Castiel considers just leaving him like this. Not that Dean doesn't like edging, but today the mood is a bit different. 

"Show me how much you want this," Cas says quietly, but the heat in his words is palpable. 

Dean instantly scrambles to undo his pants, which isn't an easy feat, considering that he's half-lying on his stomach, face still pressed to the boot. He's half precise, half shaking, over excited and anxious, and Cas can't help but smile a little at the sight. 

Finally, Dean wins the battle and whines when the zipper is undone. Cas can see the wet patch at the head of his cock and feels the answering tingle in his body. Dean kneads the carpet with his shaking hands and.. huh. He didn't even attempt to touch himself. 

Such a good boy. 

When he decided to give this whole 'sex with a stuck-up colleague' thing a try he didn't even dare to think it'd be this great. Don't get him wrong, the very first time he saw him? - he wanted to tie Dean up with those stupid expensive suspenders, stuff his clever mouth with even more expensive straight-alpha-guy underwear the dude was probably wearing and lick him open so thoroughly he'd start begging. And then one time everybody got extremely drunk at some corporate douchey thing and Dean cornered him in a restroom and proceeded to suck him off so eagerly, that Cas thought he'd need to rewrite the image in his head a bit. And when he dragged Dean to his feet moments after and shoved his hand in his pants to discover that Dean Smith Excellent Corporate Rat wears silky panties…Well. 

Doing all kinds of odd jobs and breezing through corporate settings like a leaf in the wind, Castiel is very interested to stay put this time. 

So here they are now, a couple of months later, in Dean's fancy as fuck apartment, with the owner doing his best not to rub himself on the soft thick carpet that probably costed 3 of Cas' salaries. 

Money or no money - nobody ever sees Dean like this and Cas revels in it. He also knows where the stains from their previous fun times are. 

Dean is kissing his ankle now, bringing the boot to his chest and Cas startles a bit. Too intimate for their arrangement, but it's not like Cas sometimes doesn't secretly want Dean to ask him to stay the night. 

Not the time for such thoughts now. 

"Come here." Spreading his legs further, Cas gives Dean a perfect view of his cock and Dean crawls between his legs, not caring how this looks or what noise he makes when he stops himself just a breath away from the pink flushed head. 

"You're being so good today, I'm so proud of you," Dean melts and chastely kisses the tip, "you can have it, and you can touch me however you like, just don't touch yourself and don’t come."

Dean nods and suddenly strong arms are dragging Cas to the floor, flat on the back and the air whooshes out of him in surprise. Well, he did say Dean could touch him any way he wanted. Apparently Dean wants this badly. 

Cas moans when Dean's lips close around him and he both feels and hears the answering desperate noise. Dean sucks him sloppy, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, mixing with the precome and creating a total mess. He bobs his head in quick succession, taking more every time, one hand propping himself above, the other digging into Cas' thigh. His suspenders are pooling around his elbows, the crooked tie is somewhere on his shoulder, Dean's a picture of debauched and Cas knows they both love it. One second Cas' still booted leg is thrown on Dean's shoulder and he grabs his ass and the next second Dean’s nose touches the coarse hairs at the base of Cas' cock. 

Fuck, they haven't been able to meet up for weeks, but Cas didn't know Dean would be that starved for a reprieve with him. He can't think clearly, too lost in sensations, in the charged want surrounding them, and his mouth gets the better of him and the next thing out is  - 

"A good boy who's also such a desperate cockslut, huh, Dean?" 

The moment the words leave him, Cas tries to think how the nice lady next door to Dean’s will probably never give him any more homemade cookies after Cas is thrown out from the apartment with a bare ass. 

They discussed some kinks, Cas isn’t a total dick, but not this so Dean’s probably -

whining as loudly as he can with his mouth stuffed and pressing the hand between his legs.

Cas is both insanely relieved that yes, Dean likes that kind of talk too, but also a bit disappointed that Dean’s disobeying. And then it hits him that Dean was afraid to come from his words. 

He’s staying the night. 

Feeling bolder, Cas grabs Dean’s soft hair and guides him the way he wants, petting his head, cheeks, stroking his stretched lips, while Dean never stops moving. He’s so gorgeous and out of his head, finally, just letting go, chasing his pleasure, giving it to Cas, sharing. 

Cas maybe is fucked in more ways than one. 

Dean does that deep-throating thing once again and Cas is only human, plus they’ve been teasing each other forever, so he comes with a groan and Dean swallows everything. Then he carefully lowers Cas’ leg, takes the boot off and starts massaging the shin gently. 

Cas is so fucked. 

He tugs Dean closer, kissing him, biting, sucking his neck, finally taking his leaking cock out (Dean outright sobs) and stroking him tight, whispering ‘you are so good, baby, just perfect, you made me feel amazing, god, your mouth, next time I’m spreading you on your huge bed, tying you up and returning the favor and then riding you until you come a second time’. Dean’s shaking in his hands, constantly moaning and whining, pushing himself closer, pushing into his hand, mumbling ‘please, please, please, yes, Cas, please’ and then he doubles over and Cas’ hand is warm and Dean’s shirt is completely ruined. 

They sit in silence for a bit, Cas stroking Dean’s back and Dean just being spaced out, warm in his hands, their slowing breath the only sound in the apartment. Next door the nice old lady is listening to some soft jazz, judging by the muffled but not absent noise, and everything is so surreal Cas isn’t sure he’s completely sober. He never gets high when he comes to Dean. 

“Shame I can’t make you wear this pretty shirt to work tomorrow.” Dean huffs a laugh and slowly rises to his feet, offering Cas a hand. 

“If I can’t make you shave and wear a suit, then you can’t make me wear a shirt soaked in my own come.”

Hm. That’s an idea actually. 

“No, don’t squint like that, I know what that means and just don’t.” Dean takes the remaining clothes off, wipes himself with said shirt and flops on the bed. Cas is internally proud of him (how many times today already), when they met Dean couldn’t just calmly throw shit around and not shower every minute. 

All the mental gymnastics of today make Cas want to smoke so badly his skin itches. Time to head home then. 

He puts on the pants and heads for the door, as usual, when Dean calls his name.

“It’ll be raining hard tomorrow and I know you always walk to work, so um. Stay? And I’ll drive you. Maybe even make tea in the morning for your weird ass who prefers it to coffee.” 

Dean’s blushing again, playing with the corner of the comforter and…fuck. 

He smiles, nods and kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth. 

They are not there yet in the words department, but it seems they are both fucked already, so what the hell. 

And who doesn’t love road head. 

#suptober22 #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #deancas fic #i don't have a beta and also wrote it extremely quickly today so #spn fic #thisisapaige #spxcekya #becauseofthebowties #usermoogs #deancaskiss #i totally get it if it's not your thing #mdni #hashtag writing

[maverick-werewolf]

Hi! I suck at sending asks so I hope I don’t come off in any kind of bad way

I know you very briefly mentioned Van Helsing (2004) in one of your ‘Vampire vs Werewolf’ posts, but I wanted to know your thoughts on the werewolf designs in them. I was doing research for one of my characters, and I’m not really sure if drawing inspiration from their designs would fit/work with the actual folklore.

Maybe you could even list some of your favorite designs or good places to reference from, if you know any?

— House 🩵 (I love your blog so much it’s a literal godsend for Vamp and Wolf research)

Not at all a bad way; thank you for sending in an ask! And I'm so glad you enjoy the blog, thank you for the kind words! :D

I actually love the werewolf designs in Van Helsing, overall. They're very cool - they're big, scary, muscular, and wolfish (all traits I personally love), but they are also varied according to character...

This is concept art from the film. Notice how they all look like wolves and have a coherent common design while also having unique and characterized features and builds. I really love that. You may not have even noticed it a whole lot in the movie itself (I did, though), but it really makes them feel more like an individual turning into a monster instead of just someone turning into a standardized creature like a transform ability in a video game.

I'd say they're a good starting point for any werewolf concepts that want to go for the big wolfish humanoid look while still being scary and characterized!

Designing werewolves after folklore can be tricky and even odd, given folklore varied very widely and also wasn't always very specific. Most werewolves in folklore turn into wolves, which leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Some also had paws they used as hands (does that mean they had hands? etc) and other variations. Some even looked quite ridiculous and not even very wolfish, with things like a tufted lion tail and red hindquarters! It got wild in folklore.

Personally, I wouldn't restrict yourself to trying to stick too closely to folklore specifically. Design something cool, and most importantly, have fun with it and make it yours. My recommendation is just to stick with what you like and think looks cool and things that look wolfish in some way. Don't do like a lot of designers and tell yourself that a wolf is the last thing you should be drawing reference from; that's just silly. They're still werewolves. Granted, since you're interested in folklore and enjoy my blog, I doubt I need to say that, lol. I have other personal preferences, but at the end of the day, that's my advice to others.

My advice might also sound a little bit canned, but that's how I feel. My werewolves in Wulfgard have a variety of designs per individual and other factors in the story/world itself and many other elements; their designs are something I have hashed out over the course of literally my entire life, so it isn't something to rush. I like a variety of designs, and curses are complicated in my world, and I've adapted that into the entirety of werewolf designs themselves. I'm really proud of what I came up with - be sure to check back to my blog in November for some big news in terms of my own werewolves and their designs... Sorry - shameless plug! I've got a big thing coming.

Hope this helps, and hope you're having a great day! :)

#asks #ask #anonymous #werewolf #werewolves #designs #Wulfgard #folklore #van helsing #movies #werewolf movies

[randomrabbidramblings]

A "little" bit regarding Phantom

Here's the analysis I've wanted to do (for a long time, actually) about everyone's favourite bastard opera bunny.

Minor spoiler for The Last Spark Hunter!

TLTR in meme form:

While my zero expectations to find the Phantom in this DLC were met (even if to be honest for more than a minute I tought Allegra's friend was going to be him, lol), I was hoping for another cameo. And Ubisoft delivered!

Sailing around the Ruins you can find this very creepy... giant plush half buried in the sand? Is that a reference to the real life Phantom puppet? Did Phantom's megalomaniac ass commission this? Creepy factor aside, I love that he looks like he's wearing eyeliner! Phantom wears makeup canon yesdonteventrytofightmeonthis!

Anyway, I'm not the only one that thinks Beep-0's comment is highly sus. Even in the tone he's using sounds like the devs behind are being so proud of their troll. Maybe I'm just overthinking as usual and that dialogue is just Beep-0's seething hatred towards Phantom, but... That, paired with everything else going on... it doesn't convince me.

Phantom does have his fair amount of reasons he could make a real return song and all, there are a lot people wanting him back (not only in the fandom) and he's also Soliani's favourite boss who, let's not forget, waited 20 years to make a boss like him. It would be a wasted opportunity to only use him once. Since Donkey Kong Adventure featured Rabbid Kong, who was one of the two main bosses that did not unmerge after defeat (the Bwah Trio didn't unmerge too, but they were mini bosses), it wouldn't be so odd to see Phantom having a DLC too (after all a lot of people thought he was going to be the final boss of Kingdom Battle after his feature trailer). Let's not forget this time he has a juicy chance for another diss track. To Rayman and his decennary absence in the videogame scene. Another thing: we still don't know anything about the third DLC villain. This may be a bit of a stretch, but hear me out. When the posters for the three DLCs were published, Ubisoft gave us very little info about The Last Spark Hunter, but we knew there was a new enemy. The only thing they told us about the third DLC is that Rayman will be in it. Now they gave us a teaser, info about the general setting, but still no villain. This makes me think that there will not be a new villain, but someone we already met.

I don't think the cameos, the updates to his shenanigans, the grammophone sitting right there in the third DLC poster and the last almost blatant bit of foreshadowing in the Melodic Gardens were put there for nothing. And be honest, at this point who wouldn't want to see Beep-0's reaction to Phantom after all the hate he has been expressing towards him? All of this make a lot of sense. Almost too much sense to not see him return. The funny thing is if he shows up wearing Cursa's broken mask (a fan theory, but far too appropriate to rule out) it means they have been foreshadowing his return since Sparks of Hope released.

Personally I'd be happy even if he had a very minor role, like an NPC with a quest. Or even a little cameo in person, just to see him in Sparks of Hope style since he seems like he's changed a bit since Kingdom Battle (canonically he can remove the grammophone from his belly and apparently he wears makeup). I hope they'll keep his fourth wall breaking abilities even if it's just for advertising the DLC or to justifiy his appearence, as we know he's well aware of the developers (and, as expected, he sounds like he has a bit of beef with them as one of his unusued lines says "I'll have the art director's head for this", lol).

The thing that worries (and at the same time excites) me the most is the dubbing work they'd have to do for him. Since now all Rabbids are fully voiced (and in a lot of languages too) and assuming an hypotethical song will not be dubbed (as I think they'd do), I'm very curious about how they would manage Phantom as he has a very characteristic tone and accent and everyone knows his voice as he wasn't dubbed at all in Kingdom Battle. I do think it would be epic if they managed to get an actual singer for every language, but... it would be a bit too much in terms of everything, at Ubisoft they are madmen, but not like that, lol.

In all this there's still that one unusued idea where the Phantom was going to change music genre as his battle progressed. Who knows maybe it will be the right time we hear the metal song Soliani has been threatening Kirkhope with all this time, lol.

The only reason I can think of that makes everything crumble, would be if Beep-0's lines about Phantom's cameo were a result of an oversight, like it seems to have happened with Allegra (her memory states that she can change the colour of her skin depending on the "mood" of the planet, but it's never shown in game nor in her backstory). Or, perish the thought, it's just a placeholder as to say: "if we can make him appear again, good that was foreshadowing, if we cannot, we told you" to save thier buttcheeks in case they'll not bring him back. Even if I highly doubt Ubisoft would do such a thing after making everyone suspect a foreshadow.

Foreshadowing or not: if he will not appear in something like a poster, a teaser or a full on trailer, this doesn't mean he will not be there. Remember they pulled this thing too in Kingdom Battle where the devs said he was purposefully left out of the poster with the bosses as they didn't want to spoil him (even if then they released a feature trailer for him, but... idk, marketing shenanigans I assume, lol).

As a conclusion, take all of this infodump as a theory, there's no real evidence to definitively assume Phantom will return any time soon. I don't want to influence people to think he'll come back and then have them disappointed because he didn't. This is just my thoughts on the topic. And don't think I'll be disappointed if Phantom doesn't show up because, while I am biased, I'm not only looking forward to that.

#i swear i'm not desperate for him to return... maybe... #rabbid #rabbids #mario + rabbids #mario rabbids #mario+rabbids #mario+rabbids sparks of hope #mario rabbids sparks of hope #sparks of hope #mario + rabbids sparks of hope #sparks of hope dlc #the last spark hunter #tom phan #phantom of the bwahpera #rabbid phantom #my rambles

[comatose--overdose]

Once you become an adult, half your time is spent signing your name on different papers and documents; as a CEO and extremely public figure, this is something Bruce knows very well. It's exactly why, for each of his children's 18th birthdays, he gives them a custom made, one of a kind fountain pen inspired by the child in question. Their name is engraved in real silver or gold (depending on the color scheme), and no one else will ever have a pen like it. It's theirs. It represents them. The design is intricate, elaborate, elegant... an incredible work of art, each and every one.

The looks on the faces of his children when they open it are always awestruck, their eyes misting up as Bruce tells them how he received his own pen on his 18th birthday, a gift from Alfred in Thomas Wayne's stead. A Wayne family tradition for generations.

It's more than just a pen, it's a claim, and a mark of respect for the people his children have grown into.

---

There's a red and black pen wrapped up neatly in a beautiful gift box in the drawer of the desk in Bruce's study. The box and the pen both bear the name 'Jason' in a delicate golden script. Every time he opens the drawer, it serves as a reminder to him that his baby didn't get to have an 18th birthday. He didn't even get a 16th. It sits next to the keys to the car Bruce bought for him, the one he does maintenance on regularly still, keeping it in top condition. He couldn't just not get them. It didn't matter that Jason wasn't there anymore to receive them. It mattered more what the gifts meant. At least he tries to tell himself that. It doesn't work. On some level he knows it was just a way to torture himself more. He's always had the most exquisite methods of self harm, ones he could always claim to be something else.

It just felt so wrong for him to give those gifts to the others, to have them made, but not for Jason.

---

Jason's back, thank everything that is good and wonderful, his Jaylad is alive, he's not dead, he's BACK!

......But the pen and the keys still sit in his desk drawer, because his boy hasn't come home, he doesn't know how to bring him home, he messes it up every time he tries. His words always have the wrong tone, they aren't even the right words--! He's trying, as well as he knows how to try, but he fumbles it constantly. He only succeeds in making Jason angry or worse, show that flash of hurt before he steels his spine, stiffens his upper lip, and erects the impenetrable wall he hides behind.

He misses his baby. That sweet little boy who was so shy and skittish at first and then blossomed into someone so affectionate and loving with just a little care and patience (and food). He misses the little carefree smiles, his proud grins when he'd aced a test, his petulant pouts when he was told to put a book away and go to sleep. His baby is there, he's alive, against all odds he's alive, but it feels like he's out of reach. Like there's a chasm between them and instead of crossing the bridge, he lit it instead, stood and watched as it burned and fell away into the abyss.

He wants to build another, but there's nothing of use, no materials left in the wasteland that surrounds them.

----

And Jason sees them, he sees Dick and Cass and Steph and Tim with their pens, the beauty and love and dedication that was put into each design; sees the car that Tim loves, the bikes Dick and Stephanie ride everywhere, knows the only reason Cass doesn't have one too is because she hates driving, and it burns. He's jealous, and hurt, and he'll never admit it. It's just another thing that makes him feel like he doesn't belong anymore. Like he shouldn't have come back at all. Everyone else has every bit of proof they could need that they're Waynes, and Jason is left on the outside looking in. He wants to go home. He wants to feel safe enough to go home. He wants to feel like he's worth fighting for. That he's worth protecting. That he's worth avenging.

But it's fine. He knows when he's not wanted.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #batdad #whoops this was supposed to be cute and then I remembered JASON DIDNT GET AN 18Th BIRTHDAY WITH HIS FAMILY #FUCK #I hurt myself with this one lads #Tw: self harm #tw: angst #tw: grief #if there's anything else I should tag let me know