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primofate · 3 years

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Shortfic: Zhongli x Childe x gn! Reader (Taking care of sick reader) Poly relationship

Listen, don’t sue me. I just have so much Zhongli x Childe x reader brainrot. I just think the dynamics would be so good. Zhongli being such a daddy good caretaker and Childe being... well Childe being Childe and you in the middle of it all, LIKE WHY THE HELL NOT? Yeah idk, I’m sorry, I indulged myself.

Categories: poly relationship, protective Childe and Zhongli, worry, possessive, fluff

Warnings: hinting at sexual activities (still very SFW though), poly relationship, not tagging anyone because I’m not sure if this is your thing. Let me know tho.

Characters: Zhongli x gn! Reader x Childe

"Zhongli…"

Childe stands in front of the man with a defeated look in his face, eyes turned towards the floor.

Zhongli was enjoying his tea, sitting at the table, liking the peace that it gave him. With a soft 'clink' he sets his teacup down and looks at Childe, calm gaze placed on the younger man.

"Childe, they will be fine,"

"I just don't understand what went wrong, was it too cold last night? Or were they overworking themselves?"

Zhongli sighs to himself, standing to close the gap between him and Childe. He cups a hand around the crook of Childe's neck, thumbing gently on his jaw.

"These things just happen sometimes, Childe. Perhaps it was something they ate, or even just a minimal change in their routine,"

"But they look like they're in so much pain,"

"I don't doubt it, their fever is at its peak at the moment. Not to worry, I've contacted Baizhu to take a look at them in the afternoon," Zhongli moves to remove his hand from Childe's neck, but the ginger haired male grasps on his wrist and stays it there. They stand in front of each other in silence, Childe swallowing the lump in his throat that had formed out of worry.

"Although we aren't bound by a contract…" Zhongli's voice tones down to a near whisper, Childe's eyes flicker up towards his. "...We're bound by an even stronger bond. Rest assured Childe, we are doing the best that we can," Zhongli moves his hand an inch downward towards his shoulder and squeezes it, and, in a slow and comforting motion, presses a kiss on Childe's forehead. "They will be fine," Zhongli repeats in a way that gives Childe the confidence and reassurance he needs.

The younger male takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. He nods and let's go of Zhongli's wrist, head turning the slightest to listen if you've woken up.

Nothing.

He kinda wished that you did, so that he could ask you how you were doing. If anything hurt. If you needed anything.

"Why don't you rest for a moment, I'll check on them in the next few hours," Zhongli motions over to the tea set on the table. There were 3 teacups filled up, one for him, one for Childe and one for you. "It wouldn't do if both of you got sick now, would it?"

Childe sighs and agrees, "Tell me if they wake up," and so for the rest of the day Zhongli stays by your bedside, changing the wet towel atop your forehead and merely watching the quickened rise and fall of your chest. Your face is flushed pink with the extra heat your body is producing, face clearly uncomfortable.

Suddenly Zhongli understands Childe’s anxiousness. You looked as if you were about to break. Childe was wildly protective of you, compared to Zhongli who always seemed to see things in a neutral manner. Looking at your current state though, he can't help but feel a stronger need to hide you away from the dangerous world.

Zhongli leans back in his seat, closing his eyes to rest momentarily. He had probably fallen asleep because in the next moment he hears his name on your lips. Even without opening his eyes, he knows that it’s you. He pushes himself up and comes to see that you’re sitting up as well, flush still on your face, sweat sticking to your forehead. “Y/N,” he’s a little startled, but motions for you to wait. If Childe finds out that he didn’t call him at the first moment, he’d be livid.

The moment he steps out of the room, his foot just an inch out, Childe is up and walking towards him. “Are they okay?” he asks, and Zhongli merely opens the door wider for him. Childe becomes a literal clingy koala at the sight of you. “Y/N!!!!” and leaps forward to give you a bear hug. There’s so many things coming out from his mouth that you weren’t even sure what he was saying anymore.

“Ahahaha…” You laugh nervously as he grips you in a tight hug. Zhongli just watches, the edge of his lips slightly upturned into a small smile. “I’m fine, Childe, I think I just need some rest and maybe something for the annoying headache I’m having,”

You pinch in between your eyebrows as Childe pulls back, smoothing your hair back and fussing over you. “Medicine, right? How ‘bout water? Do you need water?” You smile brightly at him despite the fatigue and he beams back, infinitely glad that you were awake and talking to him. He continues his line of questioning, “or maybe kisses? How about kisses? Hugs? I have plenty to give,�� It was your laugh that let him know that you were feeling better, at least better than last night when he had just found you passed out on the floor.

“Just some tea is fine,” you reply, leaning forward to rest your head on Childe’s shoulder, him wrapping his arms around you in response.

“We’ve poured you a cup of tea already, I’ll go and fetch it,” Zhongli says, opting to give the two of you some time alone, but not before pressing a kiss atop your head, just as he had to Childe earlier.

“How do you feel? Are you in pain?” Childe yet again asks and you shake your head, “It’s manageable, don’t worry too much,” but your lover sighs and caresses your hair carefully. Zhongli comes back a moment later with Baizhu, who had arrived just as he was fetching your tea.

“Ah, Y/N, it’s a good sign you’re awake,” Baizhu smiles sweetly, much too sweet for your liking. Childe takes himself away from your bed and lets Baizhu do a complete check of your vitals and condition. He stood side by side with Zhongli, stance relaxed.

Baizhu isn’t stupid. He knows the kind of relationship the three of you have. He’s been on house call another time for Childe who had sustained quite the injury. He saw how you worried over him, and saw how Zhongli’s expression creased into anxiousness.

The situation was the same today. Except that you were the patient, Childe’s face was the one covered in anxiety and Zhongli… Well… He didn’t seem too bothered by the whole thing but if you looked closely, he was slightly tense than he usually was.

Baizhu just wanted to have his fun. How far were their boundaries, really?

“How are you feeling, dear?” Baizhu asks you as you’re sipping on the warm tea. “...Tired and… a splitting headache” You put away the cup of tea with a slight sigh, still feeling your muscles cry out for help. “Is that so?” Baizhu tilts your head up to look at him, fingers under your chin, and he peers into your eyes, a tad closer than he was before.

Zhongli and Childe tense at the motion, but don’t make a move to interfere. “Just checking your pupil dilation,” there’s an undertone of mischief in his voice, though you couldn’t tell if that’s just how he usually was or…

Baizhu’s hands slide down to your arm, taking your wrist and checking your pulse. A moment of silence passes, “Just a little fast but otherwise normal,” and lets go of your arm. He prescribes a medley of Chinese herbs to be taken as tea, telling Zhongli and Childe how to prep it. He finishes his examination rather quickly, “A normal fever, if it worsens tomorrow then you should call me once again,” he takes your hand and rubs it rather affectionately. You’re a bit surprised at the action.

As if that wasn’t enough, another one of his hands cup your cheek as he gives you a quick wink, “I wouldn’t mind getting called multiple times for such a charming face like yours,” the blush on your cheeks is suddenly not just because of the fever.

One would think that Childe would react faster to the pharmacist’s advances, but it was Zhongli who sets his hand down rather roughly on the other man’s shoulder, “Baizhu, that’s unnecessary,” The tall man says. Almost commands.

Childe was only mid step. The green-haired man chuckles, the white snake around his neck weirdly quiet today. “I’m merely examining your...interesting arrangements, they ARE a piece of art--” and the warning squeeze on his shoulder told him that he should be going.

He chuckles again, but lets himself be led out by Zhongli. Childe takes his place next to you, the mattress caving at his weight, “...Were you blushing just now?” he accuses you, eyes squinted.

“N-No… It’s the fever…” but your stutter tells him otherwise. He raises an eyebrow in question, obviously not believing you.

You gulp a little, “I was just caught off guard… it’s not that I enjoyed what he said…” you pout a little. Childe smiles at the cute look on your face, he was merely teasing. “Oh? Well, doesn’t matter, I’ve seen a lot more different expressions on your face than just a small blush,” there’s a quick smirk on his face and it’s here that your face turns into a tomato. You know exactly what he was insinuating.

Thankfully, Zhongli strolls in and sees the alarming redness on your face, concludes that Childe must have said something to fluster you again. “They still require some rest, Childe, perhaps leave the teasing for a little later,”

His tone is stern, but only because he knows you needed more sleep. Childe smiles but continues, “I think they’re just fine! See how their cute little face blushes just for me, Zhongli,” he takes your face in his hands and turns it towards Zhongli, who was...admittedly slightly enamored by the charming display.

Zhongli coughs into his hand and turns his gaze away, “Strange how energetic you are now, just a moment ago you were beside yourself with worry about Y/N,” It was your turn to tease Childe at the information Zhongli just gave out. “Oh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you so much!”

Before Childe could even reply Zhongli continues the sentiment, “Yes, he looked as if he was about to cry,”

“Th-That’s not!” Childe retracts from you, wanting to say that it wasn’t true but his words get stuck in his throat and it is now his turn to turn his gaze away in slight embarrassment. Zhongli and you snicker at his change in attitude but you were also curious as to what Zhongli was doing while you were fast asleep, “and you, Zhongli? I suppose you’re not one to worry too much,”

There’s silence on his end, with his arms crossed you can’t gauge his expression but he was having an internal battle on whether or not to tell you that he was actually just as worried. But...he had to be the strong one for the two of you. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, strolls over to you and leans down to quickly kiss the side of your lips. “I worry in my own way, dear,” The way he says dear sends shivers down your spine, and you know in your heart that he had been worried too, just toned down to balance out Childe’s anxiousness.

Childe suddenly gets in bed with you, pulling you down for a rest. His chest is against your back, arms around your waist and mouth whispering in your ear “The two of us will always take care of you, believe me,” You smile a little and close your eyes. “I know,” just as Zhongli joins in, placing himself at your front.

Sandwich cuddles are your favourite and although you’re very much running a fever, the warmth from them is soothing. Zhongli drapes an arm on both of you, and leans down to kiss you on the forehead, brushing away stray strands of your hair as if you’re porcelain. When he pulls away he sees the look Childe gives him. A ‘Do-I-get-one-too?’ written all over his face.

Zhongli chuckles, leans in a little bit further to place one on the other man’s forehead, and watches the two of you drift in and out of sleep.

It’s certainly one of the most beautiful sights he’s witnessed.

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#Zhongli #Childe #Tartaglia #polyamory #Zhongli x Childe #Chili #Zhongli x Childe x reader #Genshin #Genshin fics #Genshin hc #Genshin short fic

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morguemaw · 2 years

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Could you please go off on all your characters that need time in the spot light I know it makes you happy AND we get entertained >:3

oh man oh man i really wanna go off on my newest fursona!!!!!!! I wanna call him a sona so badly but i cannot replace Gutsy in my heart or soul QoQ ( ok maybe soul abit ) So, about a few days ago, i got a custom from a fantastic friend of mine, his current name is Cinder but i am still semi on edge with it, allow me to babble !!!! ( i use the hashtag Cinder Ash to keep him diff, kinda like how Rotting Rot is, just something to keep him from getting mixed up in.. idk pictures of cinder?? x,D )

So, for starters is that i really really, REALLY love this design. I connect HUGELY with it!! He is an amazing off balance of what i normally have, such as my persona Gutsy, who is a one eyed, fluffy pink rabbit. yet my fursona is a edgy looking lion. I will say i will miss calling my older bat-sona my fursona, but i just didn't connect well to him, and i guess its a situation of "his pink too.. shit.."

I have made him a ton of outfits, and he currently has these SIX!!

If you cant tell by his sleep wear ( i have this same outfit ), one of his inspirations is a certain explosive bastard from one of my all time favorite animes, My Hero. ( though, more based on the fantasy AU version of him <33333 ahhh... <3 ) Cinder has a ability i originally gave Gutsy, but again due to Gutsy being so pink and.. Well not so bad-ass looking ( he can kick ass dw ) i gave it to him; Cinder is able to create a liquid lava esc spit, so he basically has a volcanic ability. He can form a type of smoke breath, which he can exhale from his nose and mouth. He can create smoke from his hands too, not too sure if he should have the ability linked to his hands too, but we will see :) Incase he is enraged enough, smoke can also slowly form from his head, think of those "hot-headed" jokes where smoke rises from their head. Since its volcanic based.. Maybe sparks of lighting can form, like those rare occurrences where volcanos can form it.

He is a hugely cocky, sly, snarky and huge sass-master. He constantly grins, but be careful; he may look serious, but can indeed be soft. Tho, its hugely recommended to treat him like a business partner then you would a friend. He is fine with having them, just hugely prefers to be alone, but if he calls you a friend, he will absolutely protecc u!!! I currently have a pattern for him rn im inlove with, im sad personally with myself since i wanted to keep it as close to the custom as humanly possible, but i got carried away...

Incase you are curious, here is the original art piece made by my friend, Lapi <3 awaa sometimes i just stare back at it because i love it...

I already have a packback in mind with him.. He loves rice with egg + beef, adores steak alot ( specially medium rare, he would eat it rare if he wanted. ) and his current drink addiction is my own current one, the all green Ultra Paradise monster.. It tastes like Gummies, and since my teeth cannot handle alot of sweets, this drink is perfect for my sweet tooth!!!

He also hugely loves beef jerky and dark chocolate!! I havent figured out what all i wanna do with him; He is a lion but i wanna make him apart of my own type of species ( in the sense of like.. He is a lion but is apart of a ___ bloodline?? help D: ) He def is gonna have the tribal vibe from the one fantasy AU i mentioned.. Someone who loves to hunt hogs and feast like a king!! Job i havent decided; currently had an idea he helps train people, hence his training suit, he loves to workout, and so he helps others ( maybe those with abilities too? ahh im so making him a MHA version. fuck. ) learn how to fight and protect themselves.

pls help me i can still go off but im fighting because i have nothing esle to go off about

#Cinder Ash #fursona #my art #oc #babble time #holy shit man #im so sorry its so long but im like #legit so inlove with him

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spencersawkward · 4 years

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I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg oneshot #mgg smut #mgg x reader #knife kink #knifeplay

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daughterofhecata · 2 years

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1, 5, 6, 14, 16, 18 & 37? 😘

[weird writer asks]

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

Yeah, no, I usually use the default, which means "Liberation Serif" in Libre and "Arial" in the cloud programme. I do sometimes change an entire finished fic/chapter into Arial or even Comic Sans for proofreading, because mistakes are sometimes easier to spot in a different font.

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

Uuuh, I don't think so? I mostly have theater superstitions xD except maybe that "this won't take long" will inevitably net a 10k+ multi-chapter.

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

Probably utter obscurity: something posted and shared not being looked at At All, because if "art is love made public" what remains if no one relates to it in any way? (but also that my personal kinks and grudges and issues are waaaaay too obvious in everything I write xD)

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I mean. You obviously know (part of) the answer to that one, considering you currently have Time Bomb xD but actually I think I've only ever lent books to my best friend from roughly sixth grade on, and I know at least one came back with tears in the paper cover so... I don't do it too readily. (And also lend books to my mum, my dad and my brother but idk if that even counts)

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Probably lots and lots of weird scrap paper with notes, because for most of my life I actually had a "folder" filled with actual bookmarks and postcards and similar things that I selected one from for whatever book I read. But lately it's usually been whatever piece of paper I had lying about.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

Er küsste die Knöchel von Skinnys rechter Hand, die immer noch wund und aufgeplatzt waren von einer Meinungsverschiedenheit, in die Skinny zwei Tage zuvor verwickelt gewesen war. Drehte Skinnys Arm, drückte die Lippen sacht gegen sein Handgelenk, fuhr mit der Zungenspitze über die sich bläulich abzeichnenden Adern. Zufrieden registrierte er, dass Skinnys Atem sich ein wenig beschleunigte, dass Skinny ausnahmsweise einmal keine Anstalten machte, sich ihm entweder zu entziehen oder sich betont über ihn lustig zu machen.

Okay, this. This is a snippet from Ripped At Every Edge (the Mafia AU wedding night pwp) (yes I know I shared that exact same snippet before). And it’s like... still in an early stage, kind of. Because I want this to happen so badly - the tenderness, the care, the devotion in Cotta’s every touch. Because I go fucking nuts for this kind of devotion. And the scene just goes on like that, Cotta very carefully undressing Skinny, one piece of clothing after the other, without his hands even going anywhere near Skinny’s dick (again), because his feelings are so much more than that, and he really wants to show Skinny that.

But. And here’s the But. I’m still not convinced this is even remotely in character for Skinny to just... let it happen. They haven’t been together quite long enough for this I’m afraid and aaaaah. May have to scrap the entire plan? Do it again from the top? Give Skinny some witty one-liners, even if they ruin the soft mood? WHAT DO?!

Anyways. That’s the backstory on that.

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

...that I had a lot of issues. And some interesting kinks. Maybe they'd be intrigued by the unholy amount of unrelated things I just know about for various reasons?

#thank you for the ask 💕#what would i do without you really #maybe i'll just throw the rough rough rough draft of that story at you when you're here #so someone who is not me can try judging if it's in character #because skinny is waaaay to okay with the tenderness really #but he deserves it! and cotta deserves to show it to him!#aaaah.#anyways #ask #crazy-walls #mafia au

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sovonight · 3 years

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hii sovo!! i was wondering if you can teach me how to create shadows? i’m a beginner and i’m not really sure how to! 😔 i know bits and pieces but idk how to make the shadows look natural on a character sdshtxj

i can try my best! i can’t go through where/how shadows are cast (i think that’s too big of a subject for me to tackle), but i can go through what i usually consider beyond that.

what helps me in making shadows look more natural is to study references/real life and think about how & why shadows are shaped the way they are. i'd focus on references with simple light sources, so that the light's mainly coming from one direction, and study those to reinforce your intuition as to how shadows fall. think about how the combo of light source + form determine the shape of the shadows, and then the converse: what the shadows alone say about the form. you might feel that your shadows don't look natural bc they're not believably following either the light source, or form, or both. improving on this just takes time, practice, and reflection--and if you find someone who's experienced in the area, that input helps a lot too.

also, it’s nice to remember that you don't have to be correct--you just have to be believable! studying references just helps you develop your own rules/guidelines to staying believable when you draw from imagination. no one's expected to become a full ray tracing engine.

as a side note i'll mention that if you have csp (or a program like it), a posterization layer can help break shadows from reference photos down into simpler shapes. it pretty much does exactly what i do mentally when i pull from references by blocking out the values on an image.

to get to the middle pic, the layers are set up like this: - posterization adjustment layer: set to 5 levels - color layer: filled with black, and set to layer mode "color"; converts the color reference image into grayscale - original reference image

once you have the shadow’s shape down, other things to consider are the edges of the shadow, and the colors that shadows take on.

for the edges of the shadow, i'd pay attention to hard and soft edges: where edges tend to be sharp, and where they tend to be blurred. in my art, i usually cel shade, so it’s all hard edges (left), but if i were to soften some of those edges i might get something like this (right):

i usually do this with layer masks on my shadow layers, and by using a soft eraser on the layer masks. my general rules are:

soften the edge that’s furthest from the object casting the shadow (here, the left edge of the shadow the nose casts is softened slightly, and the shadow on the neck is softer the further left it goes)

soften gently sloped surfaces (here, i’ve softened the shadow on the eyes and cheekbone, bc they don’t jut out from the face as much as something like the nose)

soften wherever it feels right (this is trial and error, and i usually just try softening different areas/edges until i feel satisfied)

as for color, shadows take on different colors based on the environment and what objects they bounce off of. it’s all pretty complex, and i don’t usually end up thinking very deeply about it--i just go with what i think looks good, rather than studying what would happen in real life.

what i do for my shadows is that i fill them in with one uniform color each, and set them to layer mode “multiply”. which color i use just depends on personal opinion and what looks best. a lot of the time, just one color per shadow is enough (upper set), but there are some areas where i’ll vary the color by adding in some gradients/washes of color with a soft airbrush (lower set):

my general rules are:

on skin, add a pinker color near the nose/cheeks/lips/fingertips

wherever it looks nice, add a darker/cooler color away from the light source. here, i've applied it to the skin and robes

and that’s really all i take into consideration! i hope at least some part of this was helpful.

#sovo answers #sorry that this took me so long to answer!! it's a difficult question haha;;

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amazingphilza · 4 years

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DSMP!OC HEADCANNONS

i dunno if ppl on here make dsmp!ocs for themselves outside art but here’s my long list of headcannons?? idk what to call this, but assume all names have c! before it ofc :]

,, this is kinda messy & probably has a lot of plot holes but i just needed a space to write out all my thoughts LOL

also cw / ment of manipulation & ib: dsmp wiki <3

character origin :

previous life was the l’mantree :D

allegedly planted by schlatt, we will never know who’s my canonical parent(s)

reborn as a dryad after niki burns the l’mantree

i think being a dryad would fit especially since they’re typically nymphs of oak trees :]

appearance :

my character’s mc skin has long light brown hair & is seen wearing a flower crown with petals that are around the color of a pale violet and navy blue

clothing would consist of black shoes & a long light grey sweater that falls down to the legs and covers most of the hands which adorned with 2 black stripes on the upper arms

lore / history :

since my past life was the l’mantree, i would’ve known the ins and outs of the history when l’manburg was still standing, up until niki burned the tree

after witnessing everything, i’d hold a grudge on niki (+ allies?) and loyal to wilbur since he’s the whole person that made a meaning of the land of l’manburg

however i’d still be on edge w any side because i could sympathize with everyone to some extent after seeing some sort of distress from everyone at some point

i think seeing both sides of the spectrum when l’manburg/manburg still stood could change my perspective of some other characters

but at the same time, not everything was completely centered in l’manburg so i wouldn’t know the whole story of everyone’s character

i’m currently writing this just after tommy has left the prison & mostly everyone is treating him differently, so i’d try to befriend him by not showing that i dont care about his past & trauma but also not being fully faithful about our friendship ahaha,,,

he seems like the type that needs someone to see through his past history but tommy would definitely disapprove of my character visiting dream at the prison (i would do it anyway :))

vowing my current life to wilbur, i would help dream escape to revive wilbur & follow along with their plans of chaos

i don’t fully support dream but he is the only way to wilbur, making me comply with dream’s decisions

“growing up” in my past life and witnessing endless conflict, it is the only thing i know and understand; chaos

but i think during the process of helping dream & wilbur i’d keep my connection with them secret, being the person to obtain all the inside information they need

i could see myself as a type of equilibrium like ranboo but in a bad way, i don’t know how to explain it

but i would try befriending ranboo since he seems like he is involved in many things and would know a lot, despite his short term memory

unfortunately i’m not sure how much his character actually knows since i haven’t been able to watch his pov that much but i’m sure there’s a lot in his memory book...

to blend in as a normal person within the rest of the characters, i’d surround myself with connor a lot

not only because he needs more lore, connor is one of the “normal” citizens of the smp so i believe being with him doesn’t bring as much attention to myself, unlike people that’s related to the egg and their noticeable features after associating themselves with the egg

he is currently only on bad terms with techno which is rly good when comparing that to other characters and their relationships with other people

connor could probably sense my real intentions eventually & tell everyone else that i’m not who i say i am but if that’s my flaw & my downfall is caused by connor, so be it! sorry dream & wilbur

i feel like for being a young dryad, i’d still fool around with dream/wilbur & help give tommy an small “advantage” to defeating the two ?

like yes i’m supposed to be on your side but where’s the fun if tommy can’t do anything to begin with?

i honestly don’t know if wilbur was revived he’d actually be his vassal but let’s assume that happens, but either way i’m with wilbur on his decisions

but ya dream seems like the type to punish me for helping tommy and send me to the afterlife to learn & become smarter like wilbur had done or smth

in the end, i just want to give tommy bits and pieces that tease him from ending all the wars and problems he has been faced with

like here’s some info about dream and wilbur but it won’t be no where close to enough

but who knows, ghostbur said ‘villains are just heroes that aren’t convinced yet’ & maybe tommy could eventually grow on me & change my ways,,

maybe me fooling around & teasing tommy with answers he’s been searching for is a way to mask that i want to be a good person

ok but imagine after knowing so much about dream/wilbur, the revive book, & the afterlife & then i switch sides,,,

surely if tommy can’t put and end to them, dream would make sure i’m gone for good instead

but also if me & connor are in good terms & he’s canonically a necromancer & can bring ppl back to life,,,,

personality :

to all besides dream & wilbur, i’d try to act passive and friendly on the outside to get on everyone’s good side

however under the mask i am more mischievous & strive to cause more problems for everyone on the server from the inside out

in a way, i’ve taken up some of dream’s manipulative personality but still very understanding

i’d like to think of my character as a good listener,, trying to do less talking than others so i do not open up about my true self and intentions

i’ve seen rumors about schlatt & mexican dream also being revived along with wilbur & i feel like i’d have some soft spot for schlatt & pick up a few things from his own character, not sure what though

schlatt planted l’mantree theory, dad!schlatt au part 2 !! /j

because of my character’s closed off and quiet personality, i feel like i’d be pretty analytical

i would know how to slip between the cracks with some characters & notice the smallest things to make them question themselves

maybe my character is good at holding their composure, and not that susceptible to being “emotional” in a way so it’s easier to face people

like i understand when a situation is sad, etc but i can’t show emotion towards how i feel about it (i don’t know if that makes sense but ya!)

i wanna try to elaborate more,, like imagine my character before tommy visits the prison, i would be unfazed from when i found out he died to the point he’s released and we find out he’s been revived

everything is a constant blur hehe

i just can’t fully process everything i guess? i dunno if that’s helpful but yeah!

in the end though, my moral compass has been very tainted; despite wanting to show my loyalty, it can be slightly easy to sway me, making me internally feel guilty to other people

but me trying to get on everyone’s good side to impress wilbur/dream to seem useful to them would ruin me before i would even realize that i’m another “pawn”

we know damn well dream is faking it till he “makes it” but yk,,

but i’d be stuck in this kind of dilemma of not knowing what thoughts are my own or just something trickled down from wilbur or dream

there’s like maybe something that clicks in my head like “maybe i wanna think for myself for once” or smth

like who am i really?

powers , bonuses , etc :

since dryads can technically manipulate plants in some ways, theoretically i could control the blood vines to some extent ???

i’m pretty sure dryads can communicate with plants so i could understand what the blood vines are saying as well

maybe i could get a good sense of what the egg is all about and stuff

assuming that i understood anything that was happening with the egg in the first place but anyway—

i guess similar to ranboo like how he can’t really be around water without some type of amour or something, it would make sense for me to primarily reside in a type a forest or be near one ?? who knows

seems a bit morbid in a way because of the whole history but if i can somehow easily get rid of the blood vines without it affecting me (if there is still some there) i think it would be kinda pretty to build a tree base in the middle of the l’manburg crator (iskall tease)

like it can show a sign of some rebirth, not the same government repeated once again but a new era in general

you know how you see like destruction years after it the disaster or smth happened and it gets all overgrown with plants and stuff? ya that’s what i’m going for in my head (mumbo jumbo s7 tease)

i know it’s covered in glass already but i dunno, some broken glass and a giant tree emerging from the whole thing and all the rubble seems cool

i’m not a good builder but i have the vision LMAO

omg puffy is like a sheep human hybrid im pretty sure & like there’s a specific type of dryad that are a protector of sheep & other animals?? i’m not exactly sure but that seems like an interesting element to incorporate somehow

also glatt randomly planting a oak sapling in quackity’s lore stream yes pls feed my nonexistent dsmp character lore /j

i honestly dunno how to incorporate the fact dryads can turn shapeshift into trees when trying to escape something but i read something that if a dryad stays in a tree form for too long they’ll forget who they are and stay stuck as a tree?? which like woah that’s cool & some material but at the same time what—

since everyone’s backstory is kinda a mess, mr beast parent tease bc he planted a bunch of trees /hj

i have realized wilbur saying like “the whole reason i built this nation is gone” & blowing up everything or whatever is kinda a plot hole in like ‘why would i follow wilbur if/when he’s revived when he said this?’ but i’d like to think he was the one that made some meaning of the area lmanburg was on, which includes the lmantree

like he was the one that started everything and created that sentiment of that land, and however he views it now is how i would see it now

he gave meaning to my past life and now in my current life, i feel this obligation to repay him for it

not really lore bc i think it was cc!tommy talking to cc!ranboo about his height & age when he first joined but yk it would funny to make my dsmp character than his just to slightly spite him anyway

canonically 6’4 dryad yes . /hj

also i have no idea anything about hannah and her lore but we do be flower buddies :D

also omg like this isn’t at all important but the way ranboo can pick up grass blocks will just have me at awe, i dunno seems in theme with the forest/plant stuff

and i remember reading like there was something about dryads and apples but i can’t remember but i’d give tommy a bunch of apples /hj

apples am i right chat,,,,,

i’ll just have infinite apples in my inventory, like kill me in game, not like losing lives kinda deal but just in general and boom stacks of apples

“bee i get you’re half tree but do you just poop apples out like they’re nothing??” “girls don’t poop” /j

ok but like no matter how many streams i watch i cant grasp where everything is but omg but no if i was new to the server & stuff, canonically & not, i would feel my character to be the curious kind to explore everywhere

like besides a mini tour from some other person in the server, since my character only knows things in the bounds of lmanburg, i’d go off exploring different places like pogtopia, the sewers, showchester, etc

i feel like my character would be really into history, like they would have questions about what happened to lmanburg after the last war? what was life like before wilbur? what was the whole history about the antarctic empire? i dunno but reading a bunch of books from a library seems really interesting

oh but in theory, me and tubbo are loosely related if you wanna count schlatt as my “dad” because he supposedly planted the lmantree ???

i mean could make sense but it seems like a stretch

also if my character ever got close to schlatt, i’m not sure if this is canon, but i swear one time he mentioned how the whole dsmp sever is just a game/server in a game & he’s the only one that knows that ??? but like imagine if i found that out canonically,,,,,

big existential crisis pls

and i’m not 100% sure how dryad shifting works with like going from female to tree form and stuff but if i’m able to morph into different girls on the server & act as them,,,, the about of problems that can cause in the lore omg

lemme frame niki real quick and get inside information /j

oh ya and like hey bee do you support the government then? yes but no. whatever my “fav” person is canonically (assuming this is based in the beginning of this whole hc) whatever wilbur thinks, i think. head empty. but subject to change as the dsmp storyline progresses and stuff :]

ngl i wanna throw in some like random lore that doesn’t make sense to throw people off but i can’t think of anything

not actually really lore related but my choice of stream music like how ranboo has his undertale stuff that makes everyone cry, i will have in love with a ghost

yup i like in love with a ghost sm & i’m pretty sure their music is like not dmca too which yay but yk theoretically never gonna stream on the dsmp but still a fun aspect to think of bc i love listening to music & it’s very impactful to a story & associating something to it makes it more meaningful :D

like i could imagine the chill pop lofi piano stuff fits witha few lore streams of like exploring the whole smp before my character would really go out with being this lost villain in a way?

tubbo’s gangnam style who?

like i feel like i made my character bad/evil so they could have potential to get better in the future

on one hand, i’ll end up w dream and/or wilbur for the rest of my life, which is okay but i could also switch to be with tommy or even disregard all of them and be with techno/phil or quackity & potentially schlatt even who knows

also i cant wait for more connor lore tho, like as much as i tried to make my character give him more content i wanna see how everything goes with him having connections to schlatt & stuff

anyway i would’ve made concept art for my character but i honestly don’t rly like my art currently but who knows LMAO

and lastly if u read all of this ily /p

i might update this later when there’s more lore but ya

#bee for dream smp 2021 /j #dsmp headcanon #dream smp oc #dreamsmp headcanon #dsmp hc #mcyt x oc #dsmp x oc

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riisinaakka-draws · 4 years

Text

part 2/6

2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.

Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.

And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!

Long-ish post under the cut!

“What are you thinking about?”

“Specks of dust.”

“Liar.”

The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet.

And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..

“Rackham’s glasses are found”

To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!

I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.

Here’s also Billy in the same story:

He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.

As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.

Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.

This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).

BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.

Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.

Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”

Well, anyway... moving on.

Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)

Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”

Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”

I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.

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

“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)

I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:

I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.

But guess why it’s still a wip!

I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.

Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.

At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...

But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.

And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.

But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D

Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...

Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3

#black sails doodle #long post #but not as long as the future ones heh #tag for Block Spoils doodles #<- if you want to black list these

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rosy-wooyoung · 4 years

Text

[12:31]

🎄 Day 11 of the Christmas project🎄

pairing : san x fem!reader a/n: ngl i’m quite happy with this one. maybe bc it’s kinda personal? idk

You had just arrived at the cottage you inherited from your grandparents when they passed away, and, after driving for so long, you were happy to finally cut the engine. Months had passed since you last visited this small house filled with beautiful memories, and you had this strange feeling of happiness mixed with nostalgia overrunning in your body. The cottage was a small wooden house at the edge of the forest next to a lake, now frozen, the ground and the naked and lonely looking branches of the trees surrounding it covered in snow. You parked your car in the driveway and slightly shook your best friend's shoulder to wake him from his slumber. After a few minutes of constantly shaking him, San finally stirred up, softly rubbing his eyes as he looked around him.

"Are we already here?" he mumbled and you bitterly chuckled, unbuckling your seat belt and opened the door. "What do you mean already? You've been sleeping since we stopped at the gas station. It's been two hours dude," You poked his ribs before stepping out. San shook his head and got out of the car as well a few seconds later, letting out a sigh before helping you clear the trunk filled with things to get comfortable enough for the long weekend you had planned to stay together.

The end of the year was coming, so that meant a lot of things to do at work: closing cases, checking details before sending files to your boss, preparing some others for the new year, it was everything but calm when you entered your workspace each morning. Fortunately, you had worked quite hard during the week, so today before lunch, San and you took your leave of work and hurried to your car, getting ready for a few hours of driving to get to this beautiful place where you had just arrived.

"Gosh, I've missed this place so badly," you said as you looked around you, eyes roaming as you observed the trees and your surroundings. You started getting a bit emotional as you recalled the hazy yet wonderful memories you had collected while growing up until it was time for them to leave.

You remembered spending some of your Summer holidays here with your siblings when your parents grew "tired" of the three of you. They always claimed to need a break from being parents for at least a week, and so did you from them. When you were at your grandparents' house, more fun was allowed than when you were at home. It was an exciting feeling, and you were always looking forward to coming and visiting them at every opportunity you had. You never truly minded because you loved your grandparents and spending time with them. But for your younger siblings, it was a whole other story: they were constantly yelling about missing mom and dad, while you were just loving being there, catching up with your granddad

You had your little secrets with him, things that you hid from your family and your siblings. For example, you and your grandfather would secretly take two easels, always feeling that rush of adrenaline before escaping from the yells of your siblings to find a good spot to start painting for a major part of the day, hidden in the mountains hovering above the cottage. Each time, you came back from your getaway with a brand new piece of art, and a memory to cherish for the years to come. You entered the cottage, and a wave of nostalgia crashed onto you, a sense of comfort wrapping its arms around your shoulders. In the dark, you could still distinguish some of the pieces of art your granddad did when you were together. You opened the shutters and drew out the curtains your grandmother had sewed by herself, making the natural sunlight warm up the place. You then went behind the house and opened the electricity and water conducts while San took care of putting all the things your truck you carry inside the small house.

"It's a gorgeous little place that you hid from me," he teased, and you gently smiled, elbowing him in the ribs as you kept on putting everything in the right place. "It's my sweet escape," you replied as your best friend rested for a few seconds in the middle of the entrance, hands on his hips as he took in the decoration of the place.

When you had some rough times in your life - which happened more often as your grandparents fell sick one after the other -, you came to this little house in secret to unwind and spend some time alone, crying or just chilling. It was a bit like your secret garden, the spot that you had indeed kept hidden from everyone. Even your parents didn't know that you frequently visited here and spend some time in nature. That's why it wasn't as dusty and dirty as one can imagine an abandoned house to look like. Yes, it was a bit straggly, but to your defence, you haven't come to this place in weeks.

As the day went by, it was finally the afternoon, and it had started snowing as soon as you finished setting in the cottage house. You were quite tired from driving for a few hours, only being used to run a few errands for maximum 20 minutes, so you just wanted to chill and maybe take a nap on the burgundy, corduroy couch. San, on the other hand, since had slept a major part of the journey there, was just a human dynamo. Looking around, all smiley and excited as he watched the snow falling from the sky.

"Do you wanna do something outside? We could make a snowman, have a snowball fight or go for a walk?" he suggested as he let himself fall next to you on the couch, tickling your side with his left hand as the other remained against his chest. You stifled a giggle and squirmed, trying to escape from his touch. He stopped for a while, his eyes lingering on you as you were getting your breath back. "And what about going sledging? I just saw that there's a hill on the other side of the lake, we can go there," your best friend offered, but you shook your head with a pout. "San, I'm too tired for all of this," you whispered, and his eyes widened, taken aback that you declined his offer, again, "and where did you even find a sledge?" you added, not even knowing that your grandparents owned one. "There was two in the small storage unit, but don't try to change the subject. Why don't you want to go sledging?" he said while sitting up, laying a hand on your knee, shaking it a bit. "It's the best thing you could do when we have a type of weather like this!" he exclaimed while pointing outside, making you sigh and as you looked out the window. Yes, it was still snowing, and it looked quite consistent enough to sledge on it, but you could see some patches of blue sky appearing here and there, telling you that the good weather wasn't as far as you thought it was.

"Come on, Y/N, just for me," he said as he watched you stifling a yawn, happy that he managed to catch sight of a small nod in your actions. "Really? Let's go then!" he enthusiastically got up, not even waiting for you to run into the bedroom to get dressed. "The things I'd do for him," you whispered to yourself as you tiredly got up from the couch, making your way up the small stairs as well. Once you had slipped on your fleece-lined pants and warm coats, you made your way out the door, San trotting to the small storage unit behind the house to get the sledges. Those were made out of old wood, a thin rope attached to the tip of it. They looked quite old and dusty, but they would do the trick.

"So Y/N, since you're the expert of the region," San teased as he looked over, only to have you staring back at him with a fake bored look, "how can we reach this side of the lake?" he said as he pointed the side opposite the cottage, and you smiled. That is where you used to go painting with your grandfather. "Come on, follow me," you said as you confidently started walking, the memories colliding in your brain as you trusted your guts to get to this side of the lake. In the course of your walk, with San by your side, you told him some of your memories while pointing at different things.

"You see that tree over there?" you gestured to the naked weeping willow a bit further into the stroll, San nodding as his eyes followed your finger, "when it was getting either too hot or too noisy because of my siblings during Summer, I'd take a book and spend the entire afternoon reading underneath that tree," you explained with a soft smile on your face, remembering the great souvenirs as the leaves crunched under your moon boots as you stopped. "And my grandma had a whistle, and she would blow four times when dinner was ready, and I needed to come back," you told your friend, who had a sincere smile on his face. "This is adorable, it sounds like a Studio Ghibli plot," he said while taking your hand, making you walk slightly faster to pass the tree. San knew you well. He knew that if you spent too much time in front of this willow, you'd start getting emotional and probably cry, and that was the last thing he wanted to see.

You silently thanked him with a faint smile as you understood his sudden change of behaviour and you cleared your throat, keeping on telling him happier souvenirs as you finally arrived where San wanted to go. "I can't imagine how beautiful it must look here in Summer," he mumbled as he stared at the cottage on the other side of the lake. "It's even more incredible in fall," you said with a smile, "I came here mid-October and you're just surrounded by yellow and orange trees, you can really feel the fall vibes," you giggled with your friend, letting go of his hand, feeling suddenly nervous. You hadn't even noticed that San had kept your hand in his the entire time, and you were even hotter when you realised that he didn't even look bothered or shy of it.

You took a few pictures of each other going down the sledge, laughing and pushing each other around as the other took an unflattering photo of the other. The powder snow eased your falls every time you pushed the other too hard, sometimes shrieking as you could feel some snow slipping under your clothes and reach your skin. At some point, you were too tired to get up, so you stayed well muffled in your clothes, looking at the sky clearing above your heads. San was also in the snow, ignoring the freezing sensation of water against his neck and the goosebumps travelling his entire body. Instead of staring at the sky as you did, he seized the fact that you were too busy getting lost in your thoughts to stare at you. He loved seeing his best friend at peace like you currently were, it looked like all of your worries had vanished as soon as you pulled up by the house, the stressed Y/N getting replaced by the one that San imagined was the Y/N of your childhood.

The young man shifted in the snow, close enough for his hand to grab yours. As you felt pressure on your glove, you turned your head to the side, looking at him. He was already looking at you with a fond smile decorating his lips, and you raised your eyebrows, silently asking him why he was staring at you like that.

"I wish for this moment to never end," he spoke softly, the density of the snow under you two muffling his words, only for you to hear. "Me neither," you uttered, and San squeezed your hand as an answer, shooting you a wink before looking at the sky like you did just moments ago. He felt your gaze on him, and he started rolling towards you, miscalculating the number of rolls he had to do to come near you, resulting him almost crushing you as he was about to land on his back. You clutched your abdomen, anticipating his weight landing on you, but he swiftly moved around to land on his stomach, his mouth arriving millimetres away from yours.

None of you recoiled, getting lost in the other's eyes. Your breath had quickened up, something going noticed by San. He gulped but kept staring at you, your breaths forming one trail of steam above your heads, unhurriedly vanishing in the atmosphere. San pulled his thoughts and doubts to the side for an instant, his mouth colliding with yours in the gentlest way possible. Despite the dryness of his lips, the kiss released millions of butterflies in your stomach, sending warmth straight to your face. With your mittens slightly covered in snow, you cupped his face, and he groaned into the kiss, the cold against his face attempting to bring him back to reality.

But it wasn't enough to make you two stop kissing each other. You had both been secretly waiting for this for too long, and you didn't want to end the kiss right now. Making the most of it was the key point of the situation, and you let your lips linger on San's as if it was the last time before pulling away. The man gave you mere seconds to catch your breath before pulling you in another kiss, your hearts beating furiously against each other as your tongues danced together, head spinning and getting mushy due to all the emotions you were experiencing.

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straighttohellbuddy · 4 years

Note

World building is the best tbh. I’m forever world building and now I have several worlds to play in and my neurodivergent brain cannot stay still enough to focus on one lmao. SLOWBURN ROMANCES ARE MY LITERAL JAM LIKE PLS!!! I LOVE THEM!! Also!!!! Concepts!!!! Pls share!!!! I love learning about the worlds of my fave fics and I can hands down say right now that this fic will literally shoot to the top of my list of favourites which means you’ll occupy the top three spots. Sorry to hear that ur feeling rough, so am sending u the biggest hug. I’m not okay but I’m taking care of myself today so that I will be 🧡-🐈‍⬛

alsjfsldkjf i have too many worlds TBH, literally one of the best parts of my 2020 was writing for the classic rock fandom and writing one of my good friend’s ocs alongside mine, like there’s so many different worlds that our two characters have now, i’m like 26k deep into a high school au that i need to get back to at some point, and then i wrote a oneshot abt the high school au but they’re adults, and then there’s also the original timeline, and then there’s the present day in the original timeline where they have kids and i probably care too much about people who aren’t real...... hahaha

OKAY OKAY OKAY HERE WE GO I’LL GIVE KIND OF AN OVERVIEW OF THE ALBUMS AND A FEW SONGS BUT IF U WANT ME TO GO IN DEPTH ON ANY OTHER SONG JUST ASK!!!

yes i have a playlist for each, if you wanna hear how i interpret the vibes of the songs. if you interpret them differently, thats awesome!! i’d love to hear y’all’s opinions on them!!

testing one two - the first ep they release, the song titles are mostly themed (fast forward, press play, pause, rewind), but are mostly things y/n has been working on for a while but never got around to finishing, things they are rather proud of. i see you shiver with... is the first song they wrote specifically for the album, and it’s the last song on the EP because it’s a Rocky Horror reference; i see you shiver with...

a n t i c i p a t i o n - first full album!! the vibe is Hopeful But Hesitant it has all the songs from the ep, plus some new ones!! collabs with youtube musicians troye and dodie, and y/n’s label sets up a collab that turns into a genuine friendship. the breakout dance hit is what else is there to say ft. Troye Sivan, which is about not knowing what to make content about when it feels like you’ve already told the world everything. it featured the prechorus and hook

You, know, ev-ery-thing about me / gave it all for free / my life in HD / So, let’s dance, let me see your hips sway / we’re gonna be okay / what else is there to say?

So say that you love me, say that you love me, say that you love me / let’s die hand in hand. / I’ll tell you I love you, tell you I love you, tell you I love you / supply and demand.

personally, i also conceptually enjoy srs bsns which is a really upbeat song about how they don’t care if people don’t take them seriously because they know in their heart that what they’re doing is good

hyperfocus - 2nd EP, a pretty substantial departure from their usual style, but also happens to quietly be Corpse’s favourite, and is actually y/n’s most polarising, because it has both the Grammy award winning HEARTBURN and the o brother where art thou which was written partially as a joke to capture a fond moment of them and 5SOS dicking around together in a hotel. written while on tour wit 5SOS, im writing the reader as having ADHD (because I have ADHD and i can do what i want), and the backstory is that they’d changed the medication/dosage they were taking, and as it’s their first full tour, they were under a lot of stress and were in a weird place mentally and emotionally, and hyperfocus is the result of that. i’m going through some stuff has HUGE agoraphobic vibes.

HEARTBURN has the same vibes as Florence + The Machines’ Howl. It’s about being a demon without saying that or directly implying that unless you know demons real well. This is when the pressure for them to confirm their identity got real bad, and it was their way of working through those emotions.

tear in existence in the shape of a person / when i’m seeing clearly i can’t see myself / world can’t swallow what it can’t get it’s teeth into / got everything i wanted but i ain’t got my health

Got heart-burn--- / I’ll tear me apart / I’ll tear you apart / I’ll tear me apart.

SCREAM gets rereleased as a remixed single featuring Fall Out Boy the following year. It won the MTV music award for best collaboration in 2018.

In the time between hyperfocus and working on it, Y/N releases several singles, including a cover of Tell Him by The Exciters to be featured in To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. They also take time to sort out their health, do a little bit more YT stuff, and travel internationally to do festivals.

working on it - is kind of a middle ground between their original stuff, and hyperfocus, like pop-punk meets horror-pop meets whatever you’d classify halsey as. the first three songs were mostly written before the fic starts, so before they’re getting back to YT, but the last three, nightmare scenario, designed to hurt (touch me), and not scared were all written after they’d started hanging out with sykkuno and corpse.

in-universe, imposter syndrome was originally something else, along the same lines of tired that they’re hiding that they’re a demon, but after meeting corpse nd sykkuno and having people who know, and lowkey being influenced by corpse’s music, the song changes directions, and YO OKAY YO::

I literally am so fucking flattered, my darling friend @bingusmode wrote lyrics for imposter syndrome and I’ve been yELLING about them ever since i’ve read them!! (also bunnie is fantastic and lovely in general 10/10)

if you thought you saw me

i’d think about it twice

cuz while i know i’m naughty

everybody thinks i’m nice

cutest giggles get me

places that i long to be

but it’s not long before

everybody hates me

when you figure out i’m fucked up

you’ll probably think that can’t be right

but babe my image runs to save me

cuz i’m ugly day and night

nothing good about me

not the angel that i seem

cuz i’m a piece of shit

and i’ll ruin your fuckin dreams

i’m an impostor babe

you better run for your life

cuz there’s a bloodlust runnin through me

and you’re dripping off my knife

there’s no one here to save you

cuz you ate up all my lies

so beg me while you can

and draft up all your goodbyes

if any of y’all are inspired by anything i put out, feel free to take it and run!! you have my blessing!! i am so overwhelmingly flattered by people who like my stuff enough to create because of it, directly or indirectly! lyrics, art, songs, anything!! legit! I love you!!

okay so designed to hurt (touch me) has big House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco vibes, and YES it’s about Corpse. YES it sends mixed messages. YES it has greek myth imagery and YES that imagery is confusing. not sure if any of these sets of lyrics actually go after each other but also idk??

will my fall from grace be graceful / as each move i see you make? / propped up on pedestals side by side / beneath our feet they shake / i’m the only one to hear you ask / “What have they done to me?” / My boy, your wax throne is sun-drenched / you’ll fall in the name of your legacy.

eyes like yours watched rome burn / while hands like mine lit the pyre / we both heard me say we’d go down in flames / now you’re turning me into a liar / since you smile like that, like you can’t feel the sting / and we both know i can’t feel the fire

been telling myself i’m designed to hurt / but, baby, aren’t we a sight? /

check your reflection, your angles, apollo / you’re icarus in the right light /

we’re on the edge, i’m not scared to fall / we’ll take refuge in the night /

been telling yourself you’re designed to hurt / but, baby, doesn’t this feel right?

also, albumtouralbumtour is a reference to Bohemian Rhapsody.

OKAY AND FINALLY

n o s t a l g i a - the album the reader’s working on during the fic.

literally as i was writing this, bunnie sent through some FIRE lyrics for how the light gets in, (@bingusmode) i am going to be thinking about these on REPEAT for the next MONTH BRUV

little bit of darkness, treat me like a toy

i got my hopes up and got them destroyed

bitter taste of regret sitting heavy on my tongue

can’t believe i let you convince me that you were the one

sitting here in silence, fabric running thin

petals burning in my lungs and stealing oxygen

embers from a cigarette falling to the floor

god i can’t take anymore

so i stumble to the window and pull the shades

and the moon pours in like you threw a grenade

i can’t understand why

i keep trying

cuz i never seem to win

but having any hope is how the light gets in

from there, moment before impact ft. Billie Eilish is a club anthem along the lines of bad guy or COPYCAT, bass heavy with a drop that’s out of this world.

powdered pain, i’m in your veins / i’m the sting, the drip, the thing / you’re craving, but you hate to see me misbehaving / i heard my breakdown got you high / it’s true, but baby i can’t lie / i never got that rush, that burn / that makes you feel alive, i had to learn / to pick the slippery slope down which i fell / plan my pitstops on the way to hell / to pick my padding before i spiral / so if i break it’ll be in style

watch my misdirect, now freeze, / notice you can’t see the forest for the trees / you’re so desperate for my demise / but baby, i’ll make you watch me rise.

this is the moment before impact

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i know you hope i’m not okay / you get off on my audio misery

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i need you to know i want it this way / my breakdown won me a grammy

and this is the moment before impact

ur my favourite - interlude ft. sykkuno is probably one of my favourites, it’s just really soft, just a snippet of a conversation between the reader and sykkuno, maybe one of them told a joke and they both just sound real happy and sweet. its nice. it’s a nice moment.

means something is also for sykkuno!! it’s about how good-strange it is to be open and honest with friends, and how they usually aren’t but they’re glad they can be open and honest with him!!

meanwhile, i don’t think about u - interlude ft. CORPSE is a phonecall between corpse & the reader right after they announce they’re going to feature on acting like that, where corpse asks if they do this sort of thing to spite him, to which the reader responds ‘do i consider you when i’m making decisions about my career? no, corpse, actually i don’t think about you at all’ which then directly contrasts the song that ends the album, which is (how it feels to be) beautiful fireworks, which is essentially ‘i know how hard it is to exist like this, to be the centre of attention, to give off light and bring people joy, even when you’re in pain. i’m here for you. i love you.’

okay, i swear im done now, i’ll get back to writing the fic! (also i cannot BELIVE i managed to figure out how to embed those playlists but im so happy) edit: it didn’t actually work when i posted the ask, so anyways im sorry but y’all are abt to be spammed with playlists because i care too much abt this fic

#Anonymous #how the light gets in #corpse husband x reader #black cat anon

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kinder-writes-surprises · 4 years

Text

A Writer’s Favourite Trope

yuh this is just plain tooth rot teehee. also, welcome to my first non-bnha writing piece on Tumblr! I think this is orange because it has like... two slightly suggestive pieces and a smooch? idk we’ll roll with it

-Mod Pasta

Word Count: 1399

It wasn’t supposed to be too complex: As part of Marc and Nathaniel’s individual projects for their different college classes, they chose a trip to Italy to study the art there. They went together, being best friends since high school after all, and partners in work. Unbeknownst to the other, both had massive crushes on one another. They did not share the knowledge of Italian though, and this led to many the problem: Getting onto the wrong connecting flight and being redirected twice, Nathaniel grabbing the wrong luggage and having Marc comfort him in the bathroom for twenty minutes after the angry mother stopped yelling at him, losing track of one another and holding hands with bright red faces until their taxi arrived, and the icing on the cake: Booking the wrong size room.

Marc was sure he had booked for two beds. Alas, there before them was one bed in their tacky beige hotel room, the smell of salt and bread wafting in through the drapery blowing in from the windows. Next to the bed was a night stand with a written note including the wifi password, some sweet words that Marc couldn’t make out, a complimentary sampler perfume, and a quickly hidden plastic package that left their cheeks bright red while Nathaniel used the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

“It’s fine, we both fit on your bed usually,” Marc gaped, looking at the curtains and then back to the bathroom door. Marc’s bed was wide, had lots of pillows and blankets to separate them, and there was always the impeding eyes of their parents making sure they wouldn’t so much as brush against Nathaniel’s arm. Now they were alone, utterly alone, and Nathaniel finally popped his head out of the bathroom, startling the black haired person, “Right?”

“Y-Yeah,” They nodded, swallowing hard. They flashed him a painfully fake grin, “It’s pretty early, do we have anything planned?” The dumb question left an incredulous look on the boy’s face. Marc had been the planner of their first day, after all. Their cheeks darkened further, “Ah, it’s um,” They looked at the clock, “Eight AM, and the bu-bus comes at one, right? Yeah,” They nodded to themself and Nathan’s eyes softened, approaching the nervous and flustered one.

He placed a hand gingerly upon their shoulder, “We’re here, we made it. We’ve got a whole week in Italy for crying out loud, let’s relax for a bit,” He then covered his mouth and looked away, a long yawn escaping from his body. This spurred Marc into yawning, and they both ended up chuckling. Nathaniel, now in a sleeping shirt and his boxers, flopped onto the bed. Marc went to the bathroom and freshened up, getting into a sleeping shirt and shorts. When they popped out of the bathroom, Nathaniel was already fast asleep.

Knowing the boy was usually diligent unless tired, Marc set the alarm on the bedside table to 12:30, and their own phone alarm just in case. However, when their eyes flickered to the bed, their heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel was fast asleep on the right side, his legs splayed out a bit. Marc was much taller than the boy, and had grown like a beansprout during high school. They had to carefully maneuver their body into a comfortable position, hoping not to disturb the redhead. Their entire body had to be red by now, and their noodle legs stuck their feet right at the edge of the queen sized bed.

Queen sized, what were those clerks thinking? They hadn’t the nerve or guts to ask for a rain check on the room size, and Nathaniel’s previous question of availability had been shot down with a scathing “We are booked weeks out!” At least that is what it sounded like to the shy person and bolder boy. They had been told they only needed to know how to count and say please and thank you, and they had already been yelled at in Italian twice now, and those two flight attendants individually spoke their own languages, so they could include those as well.

Marc could almost taste the body heat rolling off of Nathaniel. A slender being, Marc was always chilly, while his forever warm friend was a natural furnace. Sometimes they would lean on the boy in the dead of winter, too cold to worry about their dignity. However, it was a chilly summer morning in Italy, and the thin double cover the bed had provided minimal warmth.

Marc would rather die than scoot an inch closer to their lava-skinned crush, but they wouldn’t have to: the boy sighed, shifting his body around to where he was splayed on his back. Marc lay still as frightened prey. Then their tempter shifted again, their leg draping over Marc’s abdomen and arm resting on their chest. Marc’s heart jumped into their throat: The boy was already transferring heat to him like a conducting cord, and he seemed attracted to the other’s chilly nature.

Just as Marc was starting to drift off, the long flights and layovers finally catching up to them, Nathaniel scooted closer, a small grunt exasperating his unconscious effort. Marc felt their eyes snap open, and the smaller boy was suddenly cradled against the front of him, practically spooning him. Marc definitely wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon they thought: not with their crush’s body pressed to the front of them.

Time passed by slowly, and Marc tried to memorize the way Nathaniel slotted against their body like it was the last book they would ever read. However, they couldn’t keep their mind running for too long, and even they succumbed to the previous day’s escapade sleeplessness.

Marc was also the one to wake up first. They noticed that there was something soft and flesh in their hands, and when they looked down, strands of red hair assaulted their mouth and eyes. They shook their head free of the assailants, but only awoke their owner: their very sleepy friend. Nathaniel slowly looked up, and it dawned on both of them that they were intertwined, Nathan’s arms and legs around Marc while the other gently encompassed his torso with his larger legs. Nathan was even technically sideways straddling the other.

“I-” Nathan cut Marc off with a quick shake of his head, starting to pull back from the other.

“Oh Gods, I’m sorry,” Before he could, a smile graced Marc’s lips that caught him off guard, halting his detanglement of limbs.

“It’s okay,” Marc’s voice shook with embarrassment, and their bright red cheeks gave everything else away. Nathaniel swallowed hard, blue eyes boring holes into Marc’s.

“I could wake up like this again,” He whispered, catching the author off guard. They gasped, looking to the boy’s shoulder to break eye contact.

“H-How many times?” Gosh they sounded so awkward, their lizard brain was a menace wrecking havoc on their social abilities.

“I-uh,” Nathan blinked in shock, “Every day?” Then he gaped, his face draining of colour, “If you want to, that is.”

“That-That’s my line, Nathaniel,” Marc’s flustered expression shifted when they giggled, and Nathan also laughed, remembering that day they had met. The day he mistook Marc’s writing for Ladybug’s journal, and upsetting and indirectly akumatizing the other.

“Then take it,” Nathaniel’s eyes flickered down to Marc’s lips, and Marc was about to ask what he meant when it dawned on him. He was entangled in bed with his crush shamelessly flirting with him, and now he was asking them to kiss him. Marc couldn’t possibly deny this.

So they leaned forward, eyes beginning to close. Nathan’s rough lips met Marc’s lipstick tinted own for a second, the exchange of minty breaths momentary before two blaring sounds had elbows and feet scrambling for purchase.

The alarms had gone off. Marc fell off the bed, and Nathaniel’s shirt was stuck around his head now, the sheets trapping his legs together. They both laughed like maniacs immediately at their awkwardness, and they quickly got ready for their bus to the Vatican City. They could hardly admit that such a scuffle had led to bruises littering both their bodies for the rest of the trip, but they figured it out eventually.

Maybe it just took a week outside of the city of love for them to recognize it in each other, and a very, very stereotypical trope.

#nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #nathaniel x marc #marcaniel #miraculous ladybug #kurtzberg nathaniel #marc x nathaniel #anciel marc #scenario #fluff #mod pasta

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iwrestlenow · 4 years

Text

Many More To Die, Chapter 7

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 7)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: The secret history of Logan and Roman begins to come to light while little pieces of Roman's world start to fall apart around him, resulting in a late night confrontation that exposes Roman's role in reuniting Virgil with his big brother.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: MORE CHAPTERS INCOMING, ‘cause this was getting super bloated. IDK, I just have a lot of feelings, and I’m rushing ‘cause I want the boys to kiss and be happy so I can start my series of smutty one-shots...I mean, what? >.> <.< XD

Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1020, A.A.

“Hold on...just hold on...”

It took all his effort to stay calm, keeping the rhythm of his compressions steady the way Remus taught him. It was different, watching his twin tap-tap-tap the chest of a tiny kitten and blowing a careful stream of air into its snout—this was a boy, an entire person and his skin was pale as marble, lips tinged the blue of Father's lapis ring...

The body under his hands spasmed, a gush of water suddenly erupting from his mouth. Thinking as quickly as he could, Roman tipped the boy's head to the side so he could spit the water on the grass beside the river that ran behind the palace, and not swallow it back into his lungs—but you couldn't swallow things into your lungs, could you? Was it wrong? Was he doing this wrong?

...pulse. He should feel for a pulse, right? That's what Remus said...

Roman pressed fingers to the boy's throat, sagging when he felt the rapid flutter of a heartbeat there...at least until the boy twisted away and scrambled back, still hacking and shaking from the chill air and his sodden clothing.

Blue eyes met green, and eleven year old Prince Roman Sanders was struck breathless by the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his short life.

“Careful—it's all right, I won't hurt you.” he soothed, raising his hands and remaining on his knees. “I just want to make sure you're okay.”

The other boy blinked, water dripping off clumped eyelashes like diamonds falling to roll down his wet cheeks. He had jet black hair, plastered to his head, and even with his heart beating again, his skin was still so pale. His eyes sparkled like the river water itself, clear and bright and so blue it almost hurt to look at them.

“I...was dead.” the other boy hiccuped, bringing a hand to his chest as his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I...well, yeah. I mean, your heart wasn't beating, so I used the vital breath to make it start again. My brother taught me.”

The boy blinked, his thin but well formed lips drawing into a curious pout that made him flinch, made him reach up and touch his lower lip—sporting a shallow cut that matched one on Roman's, where he'd been a little too forceful pressing his mouth to the boy's so he could force air into his lungs.

“You...you brought me back from the dead.”

Roman blinked—but when he said it like that, he supposed that he had. Wow.

“I didn't use magic.” he said instead of...literally anything else. “I swear it.”

“On the Spider's Thread?”

“What's that?”

“The bond that unites souls.” the boy explained. “It's the most sacred oath in the world, 'cause if you break it the Fates will tear you from the Living Tapestry.”

“What's the Living Tapestry?” Roman asked, shifting to edge closer to the boy.

“The world.” he replied through chattering teeth. “And all the people in it...and you stopped them. You stopped Fate.”

“But—I didn't use magic. I didn't...really stop Fate, I...I just...you were floating in the river, and—I had to try.” Roman explained, feeling strange with all this talk of bonded souls and raising the dead, and how pretty the boy was.

“Is...is that okay?”

The boy watched him with a look Roman couldn't make heads or tails of...but after a moment he nodded.

“It's okay.” he assured him, shifting onto his knees slowly.

“Good.” Roman replied, then winced a little when the clickclickclickclick of the boy's chattering teeth became audible.

“You're so cold—you'll catch your death without some dry clothes.” He looked down at himself—equally wet from diving into the river to pull the boy out. “I could bring you back to the palace to dry off and--”

“I can't go there.”

Roman flinched at the forceful way he said it, harsh and tinged with fear. He didn't need to be his brother to connect the dots.

The boy knew a lot about death magic, and he was afraid of the palace. He was Necromata...but he was small and beautiful and shivering, and he wasn't sure anyone so awestruck by the vital breath, of all things, could be as evil as he'd been raised to believe.

Could they?

Roman thought for a moment, then struggled to his feet and started pulling off his tailored white tunic, leaving him in a simple black cotton undershirt.

“What--”

“I'm going to walk you home.” Roman insisted. “You're in no shape to be by yourself—and if I'm dressed like a citizen, no one will recognize me as a prince! You'll be safe.”

The boy watched him as he finished stripping off anything that would mark him as nobility, even discarding his boots so he was walking barefoot. When he was done, the boy was still kneeling on the ground, just...staring at him.

“What?”

“You said 'citizen.' Not 'commoner.'”

Roman made a face. “I don't like the word. I don't think people are common—I like to watch the roads from my bedroom window and imagine all the stories that the people who travel them have to tell. Common people are boring, and how can anyone with so many stories be boring?”

The boy hesitated, but finally started to get to his feet.

“Thank you...apologies. I don't know which prince you are.”

“Roman. I'm Prince Roman.” he offered, extending his hand to the boy to help him up. “And I swear—by the Spider's Thread—that I will see you home safe.”

Regarding the hand thoughtfully, the boy reached up to take it.

“Salutations, Your Highness. I am Logan Crofter.”

Their fingers touched—and Roman's heart froze when the other boy screamed.

********** 1033, A.A.

“At the end of the day, Your Majesty, the truth will come out: you're not merely a pawn of the necromancer. You're in league with him—and the Sanders line will fall from power. After all, twins don't long survive the death of their other half—or so the stories say.”

The words were going to haunt Roman long past the resurrection of his father—then again, so was the broken hand that still throbbed where he'd punched the court mage in a fit of blind fury.

“Roman!”

He stopped in his tracks, finally allowing himself to take stock of his surroundings: he was storming down the corridor that would lead to the north wing, where Patton and Logan were being kept. Head still spinning with the angry shouts and protests of both royal advisors and soldiers loyal to Colonel Mori, he'd fled the crowded throne room after breaking the mage's jaw with only the sound of his brother's cackling to comfort him.

Without his permission, his feet were trying to carry him towards the necromancer—towards Logan.

The one who was depending on him. The one who was helping him...the one...

Footsteps pounded behind him. His eternal, steady awareness of his own twin was all that kept Roman from being startled by the hand that grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

“Roman.”

Remus stood there in front of him, hands on his shoulders, wearing an uncharacteristically sober expression. For one moment, in his mind's eye he saw Logan and Virgil, somewhere in the palace, having a similar encounter—the image had clung to the back of his thoughts since a discreet intrusion from Remy let him know that Logan was okay, his hope for both of them a fantasy he couldn't stop himself from willing into reality.

Logan had his brother back. Virgil had his...the notion of it made Roman ache, brought him dangerously close to thinking about things he couldn't entertain. Not a hint, not even a memory.

Hold on.

Do not let go.

I never have...I never will.

Roman was clutching at Remus's hands on his shoulders before he could stop himself, staring down his twin. For a second, Remus's eyes widened and his gaze grew distant—looked at him like he wasn't there, didn't seem to see him through whatever wheels were turning in his head...

Then the wall came down, his hands slid away from Roman's...his arms opened, and Roman collapsed into them. He felt the tears fall, then stream, then shook with sobs torn from his marrow. The dangerous memories fell away, replaced instead by the chill of the king's lifeless body, the stillness in Roman's arms, the stiffness of rigor setting in as he held him close before the guards forced him back into the castle.

His father was dead.

Father was dead.

In the heart of the palace, Roman came apart, and Remus gently put him back together with strong arms, soft words, and shared pain.

********** 1021, A.A.

“You're sure this is all right?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because I wish it.”

The pair were walking by the river, Logan's request. He wouldn't tell Roman anything more than that he had to do something as part of his training, and that he wanted Roman's help. Logan's Grandpap didn't know he was doing it, Roman lied about being sick to get out of his lessons and sneak out for the afternoon...

It was confusing as hell, and Roman would be a lot more afraid of the chances he was taking if it were anyone but Logan asking him to do this.

“But what if your Grandpap finds out about...whatever we're doing, and you get in trouble?” Roman protested.

“Then he can...”

Logan trailed off and stopped walking with a frown before fumbling with uncharacteristic clumsiness to reach into his pocket for the vocabulary cards that had been a staple since Roman started teaching him outsider slang. The clumsiness came from reaching into his right pocket with his left hand—because his right hand was busy being firmly enmeshed with Roman's.

“...'deal.'” Logan finished once he'd pulled the cards out and read the top one. Glancing up to meet Roman's gaze, he offered him the small, triumphant smirk that anyone else might read as arrogant confidence. Roman knew it was all Logan allowed himself in moments of triumph—pride in the hard-won victories.

“You've been studying.” Roman observed, doing a miserable job of hiding a smile.

Logan stopped in his tracks, released Roman's hand, and shuffled through the vocabulary cards for another one, speaking as he displayed it for Roman's evaluation.

“'Duh.'”

Roman dissolved into giggling, and on impulse reached out, pulling Logan into a hug. The ten year old boy immediately tensed, breath stilling at the unexpected embrace.

Roman didn't let go, but he did loosen his arms for Logan's benefit. He waited to see if he'd bolt or...

Roman watched the vocabulary card flutter to the ground as Logan let them go, and very deliberately wrapped his arms around Roman's waist, laying his cheek against Roman's shoulder. He was still tense, but held on.

“Too much?” Roman asked softly.

“Yes.” Logan replied.

“Hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Should I stop?”

“...no. I...”

“Breathe, Logan. Remus says it's important to breathe—and important to take it slow 'cause you're touch starved.” Roman reminded him. “I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but I really don't want to hurt you. I'll let go if you ask me to.”

“I know, just...”

“What is it, Logan?”

“...more.”

The way his voice fractured and his arms reflexively tightened broke something inside of Roman as he did as he was asked: held tighter, pressed his face to Logan's hair, stood still and gave hugging his best friend his whole attention.

That was the moment Logan let out a shaky sigh and sagged in Roman's arms. He didn't know what it was, but he had to be thinking about touching Logan for it to stop hurting. Sometimes it was still too warm and too overwhelming, but it didn't seem to hurt him as bad when he was just standing there, willing his whole attention into Logan.

“...it's the Warping.”

Roman frowned a little, lifting his head just enough to rest his cheek against Logan's hair instead of his whole face. “What?”

“The Warping.” Logan repeated quietly, his breath puffing warm against Roman's neck. “I must commune with the dead as part of my training. The fiber strung onto the loom for weaving is called the warp, while the fiber that is strung across this is called the weft. The Warping is preparing myself to learn how to find the Loom of Memory—a state of consciousness where I can work my power properly.”

Roman nodded against Logan's head. “What do I need to do?”

“Just be with me...technically, I am supposed to do it alone, but I researched the ritual, and it is believed that, in the Old Times, a Weaver could bring their Animata to the Warping.”

“But I'm not an Animata.”

“No, but the Animata's defining characteristic was that they were twin souls—and you are a twin. I believe your presence will be acceptable.” Logan replied. “I...am supposed to acclimate myself to the emotions of the dead. It's not really my strongest area—feelings—and...”

Logan didn't finish. Just held on, tensing a little, then relaxing—leaning into Roman's embrace.

“You're afraid.” Roman finished for him softly.

“Fear is an emotion. I feel nothing.” Logan insisted petulantly—and it was petulant with the way he huffed soft against Roman's neck. “Necromancers have no souls with which to feel.”

“So you keep saying.”

“It's true.”

Silence fell again.

“...if I had a soul, however...I would entrust it to you.”

Roman felt something in his stomach tremble at that, soft and shivery and bright.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” he asked softly.

Logan didn't answer right away—as he did with things he was never terribly sure of.

“Grandpap says that the Spider's Thread is woven by Fate, not by magic.” he replied instead of a real answer.

Roman fell silent at that, just holding onto Logan and trying to ignore the way that having Logan close like this, pledging him his non-existent soul, quiet breaths on his neck and head on his shoulder made his chest warm, made his heart do pleasant, squirmy things in his chest.

“Do...you believe in Fate, Logan?” he asked softly, not sure why he suddenly felt like holding his breath. Fortunately, he didn't have to.

Like most things Logan knew—which was almost everything—he answered immediately.

“I have since I met you.”

********** 1033, A.A.

Roman couldn't sleep that night—which was a good thing, seeing as how his room was invaded at three AM.

It happened silently, but he was emotionally raw and vaguely paranoid after what had happened to his father, after the threats made against him and all he cared for by the members of his own guard, his own court—or, perhaps, he just felt Logan's magic still teeming in his veins, keeping his heart beating and his lungs full of air. Maybe the nearness of him set something off, magic calling to magic.

One moment, the dark was empty and gaping like the hole in his chest that lingered ever since his breakdown in the halls with Remus, and the next it opened wider before filling with a presence that teased him with both the promise of danger and comfort.

When the blade touched his throat, he already had his hand under the pillow.

“Virgil, don't.”

Roman expected Logan's voice—he did not, however, expect that Logan had company.

Snapping his fingers to call to life the luminaries in his room, Roman sat up and pulled his hand out from under his pillow, a dagger in his hand and pressed to the hollow of the cadet's throat. Virgil hissed—actually hissed out loud—and backpedaled, his own dagger dragging a thin line against the side of Roman's throat.

“OW! You venomous little shit!” he spat, touching his bleeding neck as he blinked against the onslaught of light.

His hand was jerked away, and cool fingers probed his throat with deft, clinical precision. Abruptly, his head grew foggy with something akin to sleep, but cold and light...Logan's magic working, taking control of him again.

“Relax—I'm not taking your mind, I'm healing you.”

“You're what?! Logan, you're a Weaver! You can't heal!”

Roman had to work at it a little, but his free hand lifted to rub his eyes. When he let it fall again, he had Logan sitting on the edge of his bed, hand pressed to his chest just below his collarbone, eyes lit up with that dazzling blue-white, misty light again.

“Apparently, I can when I'm animating someone.” Logan pointed out, lifting his hand and running it along Roman's throat. The touch, with Logan so close, raised gooseflesh on his skin—and there was a lot of it, given Roman slept only in loose trousers and nothing else.

Virgil leaned in as he sheathed his dagger, his eyes going wide. “Ohhhhhh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit...”

Roman reached up, following the trail Logan's palm had taken—and found no trace of the wound. Not even a scar remained.

What troubled him was that Virgil was right. It wasn't something Roman was allowed to know, something he couldn't glean from the things he read in secret or the tidbits Remus shared from his Anima lovers...and he couldn't communicate how he knew.

Logan looked at Virgil pointedly over his shoulder, then turned back to Roman when his brother fell silent again.

“I apologize for the unexpected arrival, but Virgil insisted on secrecy once he realized he'd been exposed.”

“E-exposed?” Roman stammered, his head still spinning with surprise, the lingering effects of Logan's power, and very genuine confusion. “I don't understand.”

“Yeah, you do.” Virgil snapped, folding his arms. “You knew who I was before Master Picani felt my connection to Logan and outed me in the war room. That's how I got in, and with a shard of Necromatic magic hidden in a healing object, no less.”

Roman felt his blood run cold, and in a manner that was anything but light or misty like Logan's magic.

“Don't deny it: I asked around after Logan got back to Patton this evening. You personally cleared me when I applied to join the guard. Pair that with the fact that Logan remembers the night he was arrested? And you're lucky he stopped me from killing you.”

The world stopped turning in that instant. Everything came to a halt, from the spinning of the earth to the beating of his heart as he met Logan's eyes—those crystal blue depths that he barely kept at bay, the swirling tempest that he restrained for ten years...

Roman balled his hands into fists and tried to remember how to breathe again around the nameless emotion trying to claw its way out of his heart.

“You...remember me, Logan?”

Logan just stared at him, features inscrutable. His brow furrowed, his lips pursed—he was thinking, he was...uncertain.

“I was half conscious in the war room.” he finally replied. “The Spider's Thread—Virgil told me what that oath references. I...I don't remember you, but I feel certain you swore that oath for a reason.”

The nameless feeling in his heart grew claws, ripped and tore and drew blood.

“I did.”

“...how long have we known each other?”

“Ten years. Since the night we met in the dungeon.”

“And in total?”

Roman shut his eyes, bowing his head to avoid that look, those eyes that would unmake him.

“...thirteen. We've known each other for thirteen years.”

#necromancer au #sanders sides #fanfic #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts remus #logince #this is all the artist's fault i'm just a hapless writer that stumbled across it #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

all’s fire in love & war

pairing: hardcase / reader

word count: 1911

summary: hardcase hatches a plan to win your affection that doesn’t quite go off without a hitch. you’re infuriated at his eagerness to endanger himself but also quite sentimental when the burn marks in the terrain simulation arena look suspiciously like a heart.

a/n: i’ve fallen in love with hardcase, all there is to it. idk whether him, dogma, or tup were at point rain but they were now. (this is also somewhat inspired by this art by @panthermouth )

read it on ao3

“hardcase! you were only supposed to detonate the droids, not the whole karking simulation arena!” fives was, quite understandably, furious. this was the third time in five days hardcase has pulled a stunt like this, which was far more often than normal. hardcase was giggling like a child that had eaten too many sweets, thoroughly enjoying the blazing inferno before him. the sprinklers went off like clockwork and it was honestly so strange to think that hardcase was actually considered an adult.

you were a civvie medic assigned to the 501st, and your time was divided between the resolute and the front lines. the clones seemed to worship the ground you walked on, which you attributed to the way you fought at point rain. it could also have a lot to do with the way you’d give contraband (read: candies) after their visits and the soft voice you’d use with shinies experiencing their first med bay trip.

his smile was the first thing you noticed about hardcase. its boyish charm and hints of trouble lurking beneath it working like a magnet pulling your affections to him. it was hard to find peace and quiet when he was around, but since you hated silence, it was great to hear his voice after a long day elbow-deep in blood and bacta.

you groaned as the sirens went off, not even bothering to throw your blacks on before slipping on your boots and going to assess the damage. you were in night clothes that didn’t keep much else covered besides the necessities, but you weren’t one to shy away when it came to your body. your state of dress was inconsequential to you at the moment because there was something happening that may need your presence.

the day of a medic was never over.

your feet were pounding on the durasteel floor of the resolute, partly hoping that you were woken needlessly for the sake of the men but also that you weren’t roused from a particularly pleasant dream for no valid reason.

another boom shook the ground slightly and you did not like the way the alarms seemed to get louder in protest to the second shock.

your entrance to the terrain simulation arena was loud and heavy from the near-spring you’ve been in since you left your bunks, your breaths being heavy and a smidge labored.

“what’s wrong, vod- holy kriff, we need a medic! medic!” you recognized the voice in seconds. the fact you could taste the explosion in the air did nothing to soothe the nerves that had built up at the arc trooper’s tone. there was no time for jitters or worrying, you had a job to do.

your feet carried you to fives’s side, quickly reassuring him with a hand in his shoulder. “i’m here, fives! what happened?”

“this pile of bantha fodder decided to go overboard and now he’s-”

“it doesn’t matter if i went ‘overboard’ on this,” hardcase did finger quotes around the accusational word with a sith-may-care grin, “it’s working! this was, uh, just a minor setback.” that is, if being impaled with droid metal could be considered minor anything.

fives could have killed him right then but somehow was able to grip his last remaining bit of self-restraint tight enough. the restraint didn’t weaken the desire to strangle his vod’ika but it sure kept him from acting on it. ‘we’re literally right next to a medic, if i killed him now she’d probably be quick enough to bring him back-’ the tirade was cut off with a groan from hardcase, the man slightly moving within the grips of five’s arms.

you had no idea what kind of plan (that fives was in on by the sound of his frustration) the brothers had concocted. the only thing you were focusing on was the embedded piece of shrapnel in hardcase’s side that was bleeding a bit too much for your liking. the fool didn’t even bother to have full armor on when dealing with his precious explosives and was seeming to have no issue whatsoever with being impaled by some sort of twisted metal far too mangled to identify.

the fire from the explosions were smoldering as you and fives lifted hardcase between you both, making a mad dash to the medbay. hardcase was determined to not be carried and so his legs would occasionally try to carry a bit of his weight; the pain was white-hot and with every step he attempted to make he tripped over his own feet. through the pain, he was still adamant that his injuries were a minor setback.

what was new information, however, was the tinge of fear in your eyes as you and fives gently laid him in a bed, fives being grilled with questions while you and kix both got to work. it filled him with guilt he didn’t have the hindsight to consider if things went sideways in his plan (which they did).

hardcase only intended on your presence being a precautionary one at most. he knew you’d be one of the first to respond to an incident almost anywhere in the ship and even though part of him didn’t like taking advantage of your caring nature, he made sure to act on his plan somewhere he knew you’d be the first to reach. there wasn’t a part of his plan that accounted for him actually being injured, let alone the frantic tone so unfamiliar to him as you shouted things to kix.

in the eyes of the 501st (and the 212th) you had no fear. back during the second attack on geonosis, you took up arms alongside them despite the multitude of regs clearly stating that civilian medics were prohibited from participating in combat. a member of the 501st had used his dying breath to give you his dc-15s and the moment his hand lost its grip on yours, you figuratively told the regs to kiss your shebs in the form of shooting every droid and bug in your way.

you were enraged but calculated while kicking ass (it still got hardcase a bit hot under his blacks when thinking about it), and when the battle ended you were immediately back into the medbay as if you never left your medical duties. there was no evidence that you had previously been fighting alongside the rest of them with the ease you slipped back into your duties, your voice returning to the soothing firmness of someone that cared about the men under their care.

this was also the day hardcase fell head over shebs for you, your desire to go above and beyond for clones of all the people in the galaxy standing out to the heavy gunner. it was in the way you’d happily listen to him ramble on about whatever his mind thought of next and actually contribute to what would normally be a one-sided conversation, even among his closest vod’e. you cared about who he was as an individual far beyond just his physical health and he ached to show you how much that meant to him.

safe to say, what was going to be a well-humored display of affection turning into an emergency trip to you and kix was not part of his plan. what’s worse is that he had become the reason your voice had lost its calming cadence, your words rushed and sounded like you were teetering on the edge of losing it.

why were you so worried about little ol’ him?

he wanted to ponder the implications more but he was knocked out, either by an anaesthetic shot or blood loss, he was too far gone to know which.

--------

kix has had the idea bouncing in his head for a while, but tonight’s events solidified his thoughts into one fact: hardcase was a kriffing idiot.

when fives told kix about the “plan” his vod’ika had cooked up to get the attention of his fellow medic, it took several deep breaths and the promise of alderaanian wine in his bunk to keep from doing something rash. only an idiot (which hardcase was established to be) would be blind to the extra care you held for the di’kut.

you’d always be sure to stash his favorite flavor of medbay candies away for when he came in for one thing or another (usually it was just to lighten the mood of less-crowded shifts) and listen to the word vomit that never ceased to come from his mouth even through sleep. kix isn’t the only one who’s noticed the lingering physical contact when it was completely unnecessary but it grated on him more than most, seeing as he was subjected to its naivety more than most.

the fact that hardcase thought he’d need a heart-shaped explosion to get your attention truly attested to his stupidity.

he was just glad that hardcase didn’t need time in a bacta for all the trouble this was. the largest piece lodged into his abdomen and -thank the maker- missed his organs. but even bacta couldn’t keep it from getting a pretty gnarly scar, something he knew wouldn’t bother his vod a bit. knowing hardcase, he’d boast about the thing to anyone who’d listen.

kix had sedated him not long after he was brought in. fives had been dismissed after kix had heard enough of the ridiculous plan that had landed hardcase in medical, and the privacy left kix with the perfect opportunity for a conversation with his fellow medic.

“y’alright, y/n?” he started off easy, knowing that your worry was bound to make you more sensitive than normal.

your breath was shaky as you exhaled, leaning against the bed hardcase occupied. “would it be bad if i said no?”

“not in my eyes, baar'ur’ika. i know you care about him an awful lot.” a playful smile graced his features, hoping to ease the tension he could sense radiating off you. it worked a little, your shoulders slumping out of the tense posture they carried minutes earlier.

“i do care about him, and that’s what makes it all worse! we’re fighting a war here, death is as common as a blaster!” you took a deep breath, trying to fight the way your voice gets weaker but failing. “ i don’t know if i could survive losing him, kix.”

kix continued to apply bacta to the smaller cuts hardcase sustained before continuing. “the fact we’re in war should encourage you to show him what you feel. us clones never know when we’ll die, and our last thoughts are always on the things that made us happy, that made this damned war worth fighting. i know for a fact that if hardcase died tomorrow, his last thoughts will be of you.”

yeah his words were meant to be encouraging, but they were a painful reminder all the same. maybe it was time to let yourself have a sliver of happiness within the death and sorrow that permeated the entire gar. you may not completely believe you deserve the happiness he would bring you, but hardcase surely deserves whatever happiness you could give him.

you didn’t know what to say in reply so you continued your work in silence. once the sedation wore off, hardcase would be free to leave. until then, you could stay beside him and wonder how the kriff you were going to explain your feelings to the idiot that won your affections with no effort.

#hardcase x reader #hardcase #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #clone wars #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper imagines #jj writes #arc trooper fives #medic kix #hardcase is precious #hardcase imagine #kix is literally the best #hardcase is an idiot but we love him for it #blue striped man is darling

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miru667 · 4 years

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Do you have any art tips or a step by step on how you color??

Please its ok if you wont

sure, i can give a tiny bit of insight on how i colour. Under the readmore:

At this point of my personal understanding, i would say colouring is just two things: 1) making sure your colours look good together, and 2) lighting (if u decide to even do lighting/shadows, that is)

The 1st one you can achieve by doing palette studies based on photographs or other ppls art, or by doing trial and error, or apparently by learning colour theory (im too dumb to understand it) and also applying digital tricks like overlay layers and also fiddling with hue/sat/brightness/contrast until it looks good to you. Below is my latest Audrey drawing without the overlay layer (left) and then with the overlay layer (right).

It’s magic, right!? I’m so used to having an overlay layer in every drawing now that these days i just slap one on before i even start colouring lmao. usually 20-50% opacity, usually a saturated orange or pink and then i’ll adjust as i go. mostly i just do trial and error like fitting wooden toy shapes into the right holes - my brain will go “ding!” when the arrow on the hue gauge hits a colour that looks good to my eyes.

The 2nd one, lighting, is more complex. I always say “lighting is everything” because to me it IS...it can control the entire mood of the picture. Where is the light? Is it hard or soft? is there a secondary light? What emotion are u trying to convey? and then how can you execute it? how would light look on THIS object compared to THAT object? A big part of lighting is being able to visualize your drawing in 3D. Once you can do that, you can lay down the light and shadows quite naturally depending on where your light source is. this ties into the way you DRAW things tho (like, u have to already be thinking about 3D while in the drawing stage) so i dont wanna get into it since this post is about colouring.

Lately I’ve been p lazy and doing all my major shadows on a single layer, set to “Shade” on sai (it might be something diff on other programs idk), 42% opacity (for this particular piece), and clipped to my folder of colour layers. So that means almost all my actual colour layers are just flat colours! Here’s my main shadow layer all by itself without any base colours (left), and then shadows + base colours (right):

sometimes i’m already thinking about lighting while im still sketching the picture. sometimes i’m already thinking about lighting before i even start to draw. For this particular pic I ended up with 5 different layers for lighting: 1) all shadows (42% opacity Shade layer); 2) some extra shadow under her hat (72% opacity Shade layer), which then allowed me to create the cool hat texture by simply erasing bits of this layer 3) a soft angelic backglow coming from behind her. this layer goes somewhere above the lineart layer to give the illusion of light spilling in front of her and fading out her edges; 4) secondary blue reflective light coming from the....sky im presuming, but mostly because i just felt like the drawing needed some blue lol; 5) a 55% opacity overlay layer containing a trace amount of vignette in 3 of the corners + an extra glob of light just to the right of her cuz i was experimenting with different instagram filters near the end and found one i rly liked and tried replicating it on sai 😂 Here’s the picture with only my main shadow layer (left) vs the picture with all 5 lighting layers (right):

The pic on the right makes her look more like she is Somewhere. I think I could’ve pushed the depth even more but i wasn’t confident enough. And sai doesn’t have blur tool :(

I also always have at least one layer that i name “extra”. The Extra layer goes on top of the colours/shadows/lineart layers, but under the overlay/glow layers. This is for extra details (including extra LIGHTING details) that I wanna add like extra sparkles, extra straw hat strands, hair strands, hair shine, zipper shine, etc all for that “extra” touch of realness. I don’t do all this stuff at the end, though. I have my Extra layer created pretty early on and i go back to it and add to it when I need to. Here’s what it would look like without the Extra layer (left), and with it (right). Try to find all the extra bits i listed:

One last note is i don’t colour one thing at a time. Before I start, I slap on all the base colours and all the shadows super roughly, just to check if my lighting and colour choices look good TOGETHER and make the entire composition look good. no point in spending hours rendering all the lighting and shadows on the character’s hair if in the end u decide there was actually a better lighting design u could’ve gone with. So here’s the rough colouring plan I made for myself before i started rendering for real:

im not sure if this was useful at all but i hope it was interesting at least! if you want to see my actual chronological process for colouring you can watch the gif of wips i compiled here: [link]. You’ll notice that i edit my lines as i colour. I think it’s good to be adaptable, and to be ready to go back and change ur lines to benefit your lighting, colouring, and overall look of the piece.

Also here’s the finished version of the pic: [link]

#Anonymous #miruask #miru art #tutorial #there's a lot more i didnt mention #i didnt mention my texture layers #cuz i felt too ashamed lol im just a sham artist using textures and overlays and texture overlays #textures can absolutely make ur colouring look interesting tho so try some out!#i didnt use a texture for the hat tho i did that all on my own and im proud #i also didnt mention locking ur lineart layer and colouring the lines themselves #but thats such an age old technique that im sure everyone already knows it

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