#CANNON SHIP

[littlebambdraws]

Love is Love

[historicalfictionenthusiast]

If not gay why two sides of the same coin? Why attempt to die for each other in the first week? Why narrative parallels? Why metaphor for homosexuality? WHY ASK IF HE KNOWS HOW TO WALK ON HIS KNEES??? THE FIRST TIME YOU MEET HIM????

[jjaydazo]

They just have so much more potential than cannon.

[askstellarandfriends]

ASK BOX OPEN!!!

Wanted to do something cute.

Base: https://www.deviantart.com/fallen--fate/art/Smooch-Base-2-0-792607780 Base by: https://www.deviantart.com/fallen--fate

[mrmushroom1031]

Idk

Jon and Martin

I was gonna add some sad lil caption/quote/something but I couldn't decide on one

You decide what fits this

Apologies, I can't draw hands for shit.

[retrokid616]

final post this month (till candela next week)

IMODNA HOW WE FEELING ON THAT KISS!

delilah hearing there CANNON love like

see y'all next month

[capsensislagamoprh]

The air felt like melting ice. Damp, warm enough to cause a shiver, and promising brighter things. Chandlers began to liquefy, windows dripped pure waters in rolling cascades as the floor hollowed beneath the panicked steps of the young noble's feet. Something was wrong. The dream felt far away, thin. It seemed to have snapped. No. Not snapped. It felt stuck, as if one wrong move would tear it asunder, as if it were strained.

Yuri held his head, oblivious to the waves of heat rolling off him. He was trapped. He was stuck. He was in pain. He was everything he'd never felt before, and it was terrifying. Somewhere in the back of his head an image formed. A slight smile, warm as the autumn rays. It seemed to say it would be okay, Yuri only needed to wait. Victor would be back soon. He would know what to do. He would know why Yuri was in pain.

Yuri was going to find out what caused this unpleasantness. Then he was going to bury its bits across the Courts with painstaking cruelty. He was going to break it down to its parts and use them to build a monument. He would title it 'Why It Is Never a Good Idea to Fuck With Yuri.' He'd mount their heads on pikes outside the Shimmering Cascade as a warning to all who were and would be. He just needed to stop this agony.

The pain became worse. He could feel the fraying. It was like a thousand cold iron needles being dragged along his skin, embedding themselves into his veins. Every drop of gold drawn in bloody savagery his only protection from the deeper agony of feeling something being taken away, ripped from his existence. Willing to let itself die, if it meant he would live. It sacrificed, quiet and waiting, leaving an unfillable gap in Yuri's armored soul. It was like his enchantments were shivering, one by one. All so he could survive.

No. Not him. Not Yuri. Victor. All so Victor could survive.

Eyes the color of freshly turned earth, fertile and strong, healthy, ready for growth and the challenges of living flashed before his eyes. Yuri dropped to his knees, nails sharp as any animals biting into his chest. His eyes leaked, misery and torment accepted as if it were an every day way of being. The pain grew, and flourished, a dark gem of congealed longing seemed to burst in his throat.

His scream sent golden blazes of fiery light arching thrugh the grounds of the Palace of Seasons. Shimmering Cascade began to wash away, arctic winds failing under the onslaught of such grief.

The Winter King stepped into the wreckage of the ball room, his every movement freezing the waters as he tried to reach the small form collapsing to the ground in slow motion. Sliding on his knees, an arch of frozen splash crystalline in his wake, Victor caught his cousin as his eyes closed, unable to bear the suffering.

Lifting the bird like bones, Victor turned, surveying the damage. Closing his eyes, he began to feel the particles of wet, the clinging, sticky coyness of water as it dripped onto tapestries, threatening to turn untouched snow into sheets of cold traps formed of ice. Victor carried his cousin to the hall. Many courtiers had fled in the wake of Yuri's wrath. Victor's eyes scanned the faces of trembling fey. Lilia, that blessed matron of propriety, said nothing as she motioned for the Summer Guard to take hold of the limp form, releasing Victor from the dreadful sensation of cold burning fire.

As Yuri was swept away to recover, Victor turned to his ruined palace. With a rise of his hands, his feet in refined repose, he began the dance of reforming. His feet slid across the ground, the ice reforming, the wet climbing, drips stopping mid plop, racing back to there designated place. Icicles became etched, carved into wondrous beauty. Windows frosted over, leaving artful patterns of crystalized enticement, glittering with possibility.

Victor spun, his arms reaching, his back arching as he kicked himself up into a move that sent him closer to the ceiling than anyone had the right to reach. His landing was perfect, the roof once again whole. People moved instinctual out of his way as he danced the broken edges, using them to add grace and beauty to his creation, until finally, he rested on the throne of Ice, head pressed against his hand.

He was the Winter King. To him, this was nothing. The happy smiles of his court, the wonder in there deathless eyes, smiles full of joy, could not be reflected in his own. Correcting the damage of Summer was child's play. What had to be done next was not. How was he going explain to Yuri the most impossible thing? He thought his pain was deep, but before he could contemplate how to broach anthers agony Lord Giacometti pranced into the room smelling of rose blooms and something tawdry.

"Who was it!"

Victor looked at Christophe with a raised brow.

"I felt it. We all did. Well, all us of Spring. Herregud, hjärtesorgen!!" He said, bursting out a wave of feeling that sent near by courtiers swooning, delicate tears carefully dabbed into embroidered handkerchiefs. "It was like something was sundered in two!"

Christophe. Christophe was a spring fey. He knew how to handle delicate things. He understood emotion. Victor rose, motioning for Christophe to follow, and Christophe did.

part 1

[fiikowo]

I drew his for pride month :)

[lucy-the-demon]

Happy late birthday kirk

Kirk is usually human but I wanted to draw his monster form today

He's a big cuddly sweetheart in monster form

His birthday is on August 22nd

[askthemagicverse]

ASK BOX OPEN!!!

This is an old sketch but I loved it so much that I wanted to finish it.

Commissions Are Open!!!

If you like what I do, consider buying me a Ko-fi!

[inter-st]

I'm still remember the first time that I saw this scene, I remember my honest reaction was literally:

It was at this moment when I knew I fucked up for me.

[hrgves]

"Thanks for the spark"

[illustratus]

Sailing Ship at Sea (detail) by Michael Zeno Diemer

[askstellarandfriends]

ASK BOX OPEN!!!

Some FlickerLight stuff :3

Commissions Are Open!!!

Support Me On Ko-fi!

Base: https://www.deviantart.com/glitchydoggosnoopy/art/Pony-Chargling-falling-in-love-with-a-pony-583478693

Base by: https://www.deviantart.com/glitchydoggosnoopy

[the-simple-creature]

This is cannon

[slippingkim]

— ✰ pov you wear pheromone perfume in front of bf heeseung

nsfw | mdni ☹︎

definition: These chemicals, pheromones, can stimulate sexual arousal, desire, hormone levels, and even fertility when released. Pheromones are typically detected through smell and produced through sweat, saliva, and urine. The first pheromone thought to be discovered was present in female moths and is known as bombykol.

➥ he’d be all over your neck slobbering basically, making little nip marks all over holding you so tight by the waist.

➥ if you wore it at restaurants he couldn’t resist slipping at hand up your thigh or even up your dress.

➥ his boner would be all to noticeable. to the point where he’d be desperately trying to figure out why he’s so horny and what you changed about yourself.

➥ the scent mixed with your warmth would make him go crazy, he wouldn’t be able to resist from playing with your hair or fiddling with your hands

➥ he’d make you sit on his lap just so he could put his head on your shoulder and he could sniff your neck while his hard poked you the whole time

➥ when he couldn’t contain himself anymore with holding back form fucking you, it would come time and he would start with kissing down your neck not stopping till your underwear.

➥ eventually he’d get a bit annoyed at you for constantly wearing this testosterone inducing perfume telling you stop wearing it because it was uncomfortable to have that same painful bugle all the time.

➥ on a day where he’d be unbearably horny, he’d resort to something he doesn’t do much. Public sex, pulling you into a one person bathroom.

➥ / ↑ Probably bending you over the sink making you watch yourself in the mirror, while he pounded you for having that perfume on around him again.