#but i suck at inking sooo

[kideternity]

[Image ID: A digital inked drawing of Digimon character TigerVespamon. They are a wasp themed humanoid robot, with a round head with large bug like eyes, a pointed bug like mouth, and pointed V shaped horns protruding from their forehead. They are wearing a ragged scarf. They have large shoulder pads, a triangular chest, small waist, and pointed thorax with a stinger attached. They have four skinny wings in the back and segmented limbs, with sharp pointed feet, panels protruding from each thigh and front of the calf, and long pipes coming from their upper arms. Throughout the design there are many areas such as the neck, underarms and lower legs that expose mechanical features, such as sockets and more pipes. They are in a three quarters action pose, holding two large swords, their right leg bent in on itself behind whilst the left leg is fully displayed. One sword is held above their head, and the other is held just above the left leg. Both are pointed towards the viewer. /End Image ID]

Buzz buzz

[thatonecrookedsmile]

["So what can you expect in the coming months?"] ["…you never know!"] ["He’s always watching me..."] ["-I saw Mister Drew the other day…was meeting with that Connor fellow, holding some papers."] ["I think they saw me looking though…"] ["Just too many secrets being cooked up in the kitchen!"] ["If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was magic there."] ["A well calculated understanding between creation-"] ["-big things are coming!"] ["-and creator."] ["Massive things!"] ["That smile…"] ["..you just learn to go with it."] ["He’s always watching me..."] ["You just watch…"] ["I’ve got a good feeling something great is going to happen…”]

...

…How very interesting,such… knowledge.

{A message from Wilson Arch}

-----

Yoooo, guess who is having a birthday today. Me,obviously. :D

Oh, and Wilson too, I guess. If you wanna be THAT guy.

Remember when this video came out there were people who heard the voice at the end and thought the voice was either Sammy or the Ink Demon? Man, those were the days. However with all due respect, I'm glad neither case was right in the end lol.

On this day 5 years ago, "Unknown - April 14th" was posted on YouTube, which means it's been 5 damn years since we first heard from Wilson...

man, what a damn BABY MAN, am i right folks

It's interesting to think that even though it's been 5 years, we've only known who Wilson really is for 2 years now (or more appropriately, 1 year and 5 months of those 5 years). Of course, now, after BATDR was released, we know who he is and what his place is in the Bendy universe. But between April 1, 2019 and November 1, 2022, all we knew about him was that he…existed. He was someone - someone bad apparently - who sounded old and who would have some relevance in the plot of Dark Revival. And that's it. We had no name, no appearance, nothing. He was someone, but we didn't know who.

It's no wonder he was only referred to as "Unknown" by fans during these 3 and a half years.

In the end, I would say that this drawing is a mix of 2 things. The first being the result of an idea I've had for a while, which is basically making a drawing in relation to the original video/"unknown" tape, but this time with Wilson, since now we know it was recorded by him. Plus it's been 5 years since the original upload,5 years of Wilson. I think this would be the perfect time to do this.

And second, a strange kind of redux/homage/"final chapter" in this kind of "collection" of drawings I did between 2019 and 2022 all based on the idea of "the unknown weirdo from BATDR saying How Very Interesting Such Knowledge" and so on. All of them having other characters in mind in the role of the Unknown. And now, here I am, redoing this idea again, only with The Man Himself this time. The real Unknown. Now as the Known, so to speak.

Going back to what I said before, you can see this drawing as a kind of farewell to this particular idea that I've kind of repeated over the years, as I've now done it again only with Wilson this time. (Does this mean I'll never draw this concept/line of thought again? I mean, I assume so. But there's no guarantee I can't make something similar again down the line. Who knows what the future holds. We will see what happens in the next 5 years.)

But,yeah. 5 years of Such Knowledge™.

Have a good April Fools' Day.

(Also, there are still a few hours until the day ends where I live, so for me it's still April 1st, so yeah, this still counts)

[thebibliosphere]

Hey, chronically ill journal friend! We should bond over the quality of pens

Oh man, I am absolutely not a pen expert at all but I’d love to hear what other chronically ill folks are using.

My wonky EDS hands love the Papermate Ink Joy range. There’s just no resistance to the ink flowing so I don’t have to apply much pressure.

Also my current favorite fountain pen is my cheapo Lammy Vista pen that lets me use my glitter inks without getting clogged. It works sooo much better than the expensive Benu one my parents gifted me, which sucks because the Benu one is really pretty, it’s just not as good a writer 🥲

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 13. blowjob

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “holiday blow”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ as iii is writing letters to his loved ones, you decided to give him a little treat underneath his desk

pairing: iii x gn!reader

a/n: i’m actually so ass at coming up with titles for my christmas event 😟 made this while i was sick, so it’s lazily written.

cw: nsfw content. blowjob. semi-public sex. kinda subby vibes from iii.

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“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“whatcha doinnnn’?”

“writing letters for the boys.”

“oh fun! make sure to write to santa to get me that teacup puppy for christmas.”

iii just chuckled and rolled his eyes at your lame attempt of a joke, which was to definitely get him to buy you that adorable little puppy. though, iii saw right through your devious little scam.

“not happening, y/n.” he joked back, and he grunted when you punched his shoulder playfully.

“awww come on!!! it’s so cute! you can’t say no to this adorable face!” you said while waving your arms around, pulling up a very poorly printed picture of a teacup puppy. the ink was printed so badly it made the face of the pooch look disfigured, and iii stifled a laugh.

“i can say no, actually. that thing looks like it’s on life support.” iii said sassily, shoving the picture away from his face. to this, you gasped dramatically while falling over his desk.

“oh great heavens! my best friend won’t get me the gift i oh so desperately need! this is anarchy i tell you!!” you monologued rather interestingly, throwing in some poor shakespeare gestures that was paired with bad acting.

iii just raised an eyebrow at your shenanigans, clearly not convinced.

“not happening.”

“oh come on, iii! i’ll do anything! even the most humiliating thing ever!”

the quilt iii held between his fingers only continued to write fancy, honeyed words across the paper. he just sighed heavily, not thinking you’d actually go drastic measures for some tiny puppy as a gift.

“annnything?”

“anything i tell you!”

“you sure about that?”

“yes i am! i’ll even… uhhh..”

iii kept his eyes glued to the paper, clearly not convinced by your obnoxious explaining and weird, theater gestures. he swore you were high at some point. clearly, this was getting nowhere.

the bassist just dropped his pen in the ink bottle and put an arm on his desk, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “well?”

you didn’t even know what came over you, because you blurted out:

“i’ll even suck your dick!”

… well.

that’s an idea that certainly piqued iii’s interest.

and you seemed sooo confident about your answer too, crossing your arms and holding your ground. though, iii could see through those playful eyes that you were actually nervous about what you just said to him.

oh we’ll, he’ll humor you for a bit.

“oh? you serious about that?” iii spoke teasingly, his fingers subconsciously playing with the buckle of his belt, getting turned on from the idea of you going down on him.

you nodded, still keeping your confident face up. “absolutely.”

this was a nice turn of events. iii smirked and rolled his chair out to make space for you, allowing for you to crawl under the little nook within his desk. the bassist rolled back into place, and grabbed the feather pen again, feeling your eager fingers quickly make work of his belt and tug his pants down. damn, you really were excited.

“ahh… i’m starting to think this is less about the puppy, and more about you just wanting to suck me off.” iii commented absentmindedly, his pen dragging across the paper as he wrote his letters to his loved ones, occasionally acknowledging your presence by moving his free hand under the desk to stroke your hair.

“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.”

you just whined in response, not even bothering to reply to iii’s words. soon, you pulled down his boxers to his ankles, his hard cock springing free. he heard you audibly gasp at his size, and he just snickered.

“impressive, huh?” he mumbled, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to the head of his cock, the tip leaking with precum.

“maybe.” you mumbled back, putting one hand on his thigh and the other on iii’s shaft, holding the base with a firm grip that had him groaning.

“nnngh…” he sighed out, hand shaking a bit, hindering his ability to write letters. iii shook his head and gripped your hair tightly.

“don’t just sit there. suck.”

you could hear the desperation in iii’s voice, just wanting to feel your tongue swirl around his dick like a lollipop. it was such a lewd thought, but you loved it. you didn’t waste any time, and opened your mouth, taking him in whole and savoring the satisfying, salty taste of his precum. you could tell how horny he was, from the way he was gripping your hair and forcing you down more onto his hard shaft as you sucked him off.

“f-fuck.” he grumbled, trying to shift his attention on the letters he was writing, but you were too good at sucking him off. iii was getting desperate, completely dropping his pen and gripping onto the side of his desk while he bucked his hips into your mouth.

“s-shit. take it all, oh you’re s-so good at this…” iii whimpered, all of his attention on you now as you gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. you could feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and constrict around it.

the feeling made iii throw his head back with pleasure, letting out a guttural moan while you whimpered around his dick.

“fuck. i-i’m gonna cum, y/n.” he warned, and you took this opportunity to take him as deep as you possibly could.

“s-shit! ahh!”

his eyes widened underneath his face mask, and he moaned loudly as he shot his seed down your throat, watching you swallow all of his cum in a single gulp. he let out a loud pant and pulled your head off of his cock, your mouth coming off the head with a popping sound.

he groaned heavily, and looked at your face. he chuckled as he brushed his thumb over your swollen lips, making you whine.

you giggled and nuzzled his hand.

“so…. can i get that puppy now?”

he chuckled at your words, and ruffled your hair.

“maybe, dollface.” he said with a grin, caressing your cheek. he lifted his mask, and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“maybe.”

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[socpens]

Another stream idea for your mascot horror streams? Bendy and the Ink Machine... I don't really know what it is... BUT... it's probably very funny at worst.

whenever i bring up ones i dont know about the reaction is either:

oh yay i love that one

that one sucks so much play it

bendy is the only one that when i brought it up people almost unanimously said don't bother and it's not worth it. sooo i dunno..

[envillenx]

Ink Bendy and CUTE BYB BENDY OMFGJ

Ik the angle looks weird but I suck ass at it sooo

[hlizr50]

Sooo remember yesterday when I reblogged that amazing art by elenana.art on Instagram?

Well, I couldn't stop myself from writing a drabble for my Gwynriel headcanon that it inspired... So here it is!

And there's no angst!!

Read on AO3

Nesta rolled her eyes, unwilling to give her sister the satisfaction of, well, being right.

“The drummer was kinda hot, I guess,” she muttered. ‘Kinda hot’ was a gross understatement for the colossal man who had manned the drums during the trio’s set. The Bat Boys, they called themselves. And that drummer had been nothing less than drool-worthy.

“What do you mean ‘I guess’?! Have you seen his biceps?” Feyre sputtered.

Oh yes. Yes, she definitely had.

“Okay, but what’s with all the tattoos?” Nesta demanded, lifting a brow. “They’re a band, Feyre, not the yakuza.” Her sister’s answering expression was unimpressed, to say the very least.

“I should’ve just brought Elain.”

The Hell she should have.

With another eyeroll, Nesta snapped, “Don’t be silly. Those tattoos would give Elain a heart attack. Besides, she’s—“

Her sentence was cut off when she ran face first into a wall of black.

“Hey!” She seethed. “Watch where you’re…” Nesta looked up, ready to give the offending obstacle her famed I-will-slay-my-enemies expression. Her gaze drifted up… and up and up. Over the collar of the tight fitting black tee and the tendrils of ink that peeked out over it. Over the jaw that was sharp as a knife. Over the beautiful lips, straight nose, and high cheekbones. Until her eyes were met with churning hazel — nearly gold. The bassist.

Holy fuck, was he pretty.

Nesta gaped at him, all lean muscle and height. Not as ruggedly handsome as the drummer, but unfairly gorgeous, nonetheless. Beautiful enough to make the two women gape as he stared back down at them, his face a mask of cool disinterest.

Absolute, awkward silence.

“Um… could you let me through, please?” His voice was as deep and rich as the instrument he played, even if it was soft as a whisper.

What planet of perfection had this guy come from?

“Oh, yeah,” Feyre stammered, pushing Nesta to the side. “Sorry.” The towering, tattooed god of a man passed between them as they stared, slack-jawed.

Forget the drummer. An angel had just appeared before them. Nesta dramatically sucked in a breath as her sister began giggling like a fan girl.

Typical.

But there was still a chance to shoot her shot—

“Az!” Someone called from behind them. And then, passing between them as the bassist had, a blur of cobalt blue topped with a curtain of copper bounded up to the tall, dark, handsome man.

And his whole demeanor… changed.

He’d turned just in time for the woman to barrel into him, and his whole face lit up. If Nesta had thought him attractive before, that bright white smile — complete with a little dimple on one side — sent him straight into drop-dead gorgeous territory.

“Bird. You made it,” the bassist — Az, apparently — murmured into the woman’s hair, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. Her arms were pale against his bronzed skin, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like…

“Gwyn?”

Her pin straight mane flew as the woman’s head jerked, meeting Nesta’s stare with wide, teal eyes.

“Nesta? What are you—“

“Wait, this is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Nesta didn’t need to wait for an answer. Not when Gwyn’s cheeks turned the most incriminating shade of pink.

With a nervous laugh, she replied, “Nesta, this is Azriel.” Icy eyes narrowed on the couple, keenly aware that Azriel’s hand had not moved from Gwyn’s hip and Gwyn’s arm had remained around the musician’s waist. “Azriel, Nesta.”

“I’m Feyre,” Nesta’s sister chimed in, earning a scathing side-eye.

The towering bassist chuckled, pulling Gwyn into his side and dipping his chin toward her. “Have you been keeping me a secret from your friends, Gwyneth?” He teased, only fanning her blush into a roaring red.

Turning to him with beseeching eyes, she exclaimed, “No!” Then she dragged her lower lip between her teeth and looked away from him. “I just… haven’t dated much and I wanted it to be… all mine. For a bit.”

Well, much to Nesta’s displeasure, that was incredibly sweet. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with Gwyn — the redhead she’d met at work was more like a sister to her than a friend, and she deserved only the most wonderful things.

It was the musician that was the focal point of her skepticism now. She’d been drooling over him only moments before, but a man would have to be nearly perfect to even get close to being deserving of Gwyneth Berdara.

Azriel leaned in and pressed his lips tenderly against Gwyn’s temple. “Of course, bird. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Well, he sure was smooth, wasn’t he?

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he added with a warm smile and a nod. “You can come back to the green room with us if you want. We have some food and a bar. And I’m sure Rhys and Cass would love the company.”

And with that, Azriel returned his focus to the freckle-faced woman at his side, guiding her gently down the hall. After a moment of stunned silence, Nesta shook her head and began to follow, dragging her sister along.

Perhaps the drummer would do, after all.

Tag List... I don't have my Gwynriel list handy, so sorry in advance...

@headcanonheadcase @daevastanner @beaumaismortel @vikingmagic33 @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @freyjas-musings @foreverinelysian @mystical-blaise @positivewitch @thecrispypotatochip @sv0430 @almosttenaciousmoon @aldbooks

[sunflowers666]

ugh whats the point of smoking cigarettes if im not smoking w my friends. i hate it here i cant wait to be somewhere else. i kinda hate hitchhiking tho everyone sucks. ive been doing this for 2 years now? and weve had dozens of rides and ive met like 3 ppl that i like. those travelers that picked us up in Tennessee and got me sooo drunk and had all those dogs and stopped to try to catch fish it was so cute and gave me needles and ink. i hope we see them again. and that guy who picked us up in Wyoming and was quitting fent and gave us subs and was listening to folk punk and talked abt wearing dresses in high school. i hope hes ok. ughhhh i just wanna hang out waaaaa

[brawltogethernow]

Who is your least favorite spider-man writer and artist and your most favorite artist and writer of spider-man?

Picking favorites feels surprisingly tricky, not because I can't but because Buscema edges out Romita on art but Conway edges out DeMatteis on writing (by dint of spending thirty straight years + 20 more off and on kicking my ass and how when he falls on his ass it remains fun for me), and these names next to each other are nothing. This is a stupid combination. Really highlights how superhero comics are made by teams and a single dude cannot guarantee quality if they're not vibing with the rest of the carpool. But if I'm picking a team the seventies beats the nineties, and it's sooo disingenuous to try to narrow down one pair of names when that era was Lee/Romita bleeding into Lee/Conway/Romita into Conway/Romita/Kane, also every few issues Mooney dips in to push the Peter having pretty eyelashes agenda and then leaves. Like some of the best art in this era had Kane doing pencils and Romita inking, and I like their combined style more than Romita penciling his own work if we're talking the period where he was still a full time illustrator, but I midkey dislike Kane's pencils inked by everybody else. I looked up who was illustrating 90's Web with Conway on scripts and it turns out the art I like best is a penciler and inker team and the quality takes a dive whenever either of them takes a month off and leaves the other one in a substitute's hands. You know! Team efforts! Anyway here are some iconic combinations in no order cherry picked to cut out overlap and sneak more people in.

Yes Please:

DeMatteis/Buscema

SSM #180

There's a rhythm to this team's work I've full stop never seen anywhere else.

Lee/Romita

ASM #83

The Vibe.

Conway/Andru

ASM #145

The number of times Gerry Conway has kicked my ass. u_u With Romita Sr. and Andru the most distinctive art trait is the faces - Andru's were never as doll-perfect as Romita's, and that's kind of the best thing about them?

Now guys I hate on the other hand. Way less complex. Debated whether to answer this because I try not to go on about who in the industry sucks at their job but this is not because I couldn't.

Please No:

Spencer/Otley

ASM (2018) #30

It should have been difficult to outdo the preceding run, but writing that was simultaneously nonsensical and insulting, deflated pacing where each issue achieved about as much as a single newspaper strip, a teeth-first art style where every face sports a pained grimace and the meandering composition always scores a D-, and the finishing touch of colors that I can only describe as Averaging Out to Oatmeal...combined to create some of the worst comics I've ever seen. Spencer and I appreciate so many of the same comics and his understanding of what makes them good is so poor that it's almost like receiving a personalized hate letter.

Slott/anybody

ASM #546

He can write well which just makes it worse. I don't even know where to start enumerating his crimes. Like do I just pick one anecdote? When there are so many?

Land (the porn trace guy)

Symbiote Spider-Man: Alien Reality #2 but I could have opened anything and found a bad traced yelling face

You know. The guy. Who traces from porn. That guy. He remains gainfully employed despite being known for this. Does he have dirt on an important executive?

Campbell (yes he watermarked the one on the left two separate times AFTER signing it)

ASM (2018) #2 variant, Renew Your Vows #11 variant

If you're distant from the recent comics scene it's hard to convey how omnipresent this guy is. He's like the comic sans of artists. After having the way he draws women ripped to shreds by social media over a decade ago, Campbell doubled down and has since then drawn hundreds of pinups of identical women in invisible high heels making the exact same face. Singlehandedly a huge factor in how people visualize MJ becoming "skinny carrot top with a pointy chin and freckles". He's proud of this.

[godisaturtle]

Waywardtale seems really interesting so far, can I get some more details?(please info dump if you have time I love it when people infodump)

OK THIS MIGHT BE A BIT MESSY BC IT'S AN INFODUMP

Also I have the designs for a lot of characters! Still working on them 💔💔

EXPLANATION!!!!!!:

So this whole au revolves around Charlie, and she falls into the mountain instead of Chara, so it's like, if Chara never fell

And she's totally freaked out by the whole situation with the monsters because she was one of those homeschooled kids where their parents won't teach them things they don't want them to know, so she has no idea who or what the monsters are. Sooo she kinda kills a few monsters out of panic-- smaller ones like froggit?

But Toriel takes her in because she feels bad and also because that's just what she does

Charlie gets used to it a bit, but still has a weird grudge, especially for the people outside of the ruins? But she also doesn't exactly know who they are, not really

So flash forward a bit, they're now angsty teens and the Dreemurrs leave to New Home because the ruins are getting way too out of shape

However, Chalrie and Asriel had a huge fight, and turns out she's developed some sort of small agoraphobia? So she ends up staying in the ruins. They would've taken her with them but she didn't wanna go because she was worried about what else might've been out there

And so Charlie ends up being the new Toriel, taking care of the ruins and what not. Yknow knock knock jokes the whole shabang, but she doesn't exactly have the same bond as Toriel and Sans. Every time she hears a knock knock joke she's like "your jokes fucking suck" and Sans is like "I think they're humerous" ba dum tss and then she's like "that was awful....tell me another". Just more of Charlie needing someone to keep her company so she doesn't go absolutely insane

But the difference in this is, humans aren't really interested in the monsters rn since the whole Asriel and Chara thing didn't happen

So no one's coming down to the mountain

And Error is like "this is a waste of space???? They're literally doing nothing it's so boring" and so he starts messing up stuff in the universe to be like "oh, whoops looks like it's defective and it's totally not my fault"

Ink ends up visiting the au one day in the ruins when he's fixing whatever Error had done and Charlie finds him and she's like "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU" and he's like "NOO NO NO I'M SAFE I PROMISE LOOK" and draws some stupid looking doodle, which is probably the worst way to plead your case

They talk for a bit, be it begrudgingly, but he has to calm her down somehow. And then he finds out she's been alone all this time and decides to become her friend to keep her company. Error finds our and is like "YOU'RE RUINING MY WHOLE PLAN ARE YOU SERIOUS" His jealous rage gets the best of him for sure, but also just normal rage, and he attempts to destroy the universe

Again

And again

And again

And it's not really working

And that's all l've got

Just Ink being friends w her and distracting her from the fact that Error is probably trying to blow up that au

[nnnyxie]

IZU ANON IS BACK!! So I spent the day in Paris and saw SOOO many couples so I felt inspired (that’s a lie I’ve been lurking around your blog but felt weird requesting so much so close together and didn’t want to overwhelm you so I waited😞) anyways

Hc’s for Soulmate!Izu x Tatooed!Reader because I’m sickly inlove with soulmate au‘s

Especially writing that shows up on the others skin<3 The reader just drawing super ugly cats and doodles all the time- I feel like Izu would be the more artistic one and reader would suck at it but still do it all the time (this is more me telling you my hcs rather than requesting them from you but i literally can’t talk to anyone else about this please bear with me😭) and Izu would like draw SUPER realistic and detailed all might portraits or something and then reader like get’s a villain tattoo because they’re ✨different✨like that and Izu freaks out and somehow finds them through that??? This is like half a fic omg i just got carried away😭 feel free to ignore this I just absolutely went off I’m so sorry ily

izu anon…… your mind….. ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL.

i’m utterly in love with this idea.

i feel like the tattoos won’t transfer BUT!! the stencil that they USE for it does!! (ykwim?? the purple/blue ink they use??)

so one silly little day, he’s just relaxing yk. it’s his day off and he is using it to catch up on a show todoroki’s been raving about (which is unusual for todoroki so you KNOW it’s good!!)

our boy has his old ratty blue t-shirt and worn out grey nike shorts on. feet kicked up on his ottoman, his calves exposed. (do you see where i’m headed?)

now— imagine his surprise when he gets up and notices the purple/blue print of a villain on his right calf!!! (im thinking late 80’s)

he genuinely panics— like he’s seen these stencils before— a few were super badass honestly.

BUT A VILLAIN??? A VILLAIN???

he kind of feels sick because like— what if his soulmate is a villain?? (you’re not, you just like tattoos)

he immediately takes a picture of it!! he plans on looking for you— aka stalking every single tattoo artistry page and the people they tag in their posts, also their criminal data bases, and looking at everyone’s right calf when he goes on patrol.

he’s hoping that IF you’re a criminal/villain, he could help you to become— well, NOT that.

he also goes to bakugo about this and asks if he saw anyone get a tattoo of it recently (because bakugo definitely would get tattoos, i just know it. it’d be all skull and fire themes too) (plus he recently got one) bakugo just says, “the fuck? you think i know everyone with a tattoo? what kind of dumb thinking is that?” and poor poor izuku is panicking because he upset bakugo (he actually didn’t, bakugo was just taken aback by the picture) izuku apologizes profusely (bc that’s his thing) and bakugo go just tells him to stfu and that he MIGHT know who tattooed the image because he recognizes the style. sooooo he takes izuku to the parlor and introduces him to…….

YOU!!!!!!! yes, you tattooed yourself!!!!

you’re bakugo’s tattoo artist!!!

“dumbass, show me your right leg” bakugo yells in your small parlor, like an asshole. this makes you roll your eyes— you’re used to him, you’ve been tattooing him since you both were 19, which was when you finished your ‘tattoo training’. “keep talking to me like that and i’ll drop you from my cliental list,” you turn around after you finished sanitizing your station (bc all good artists do!!) “just show me your damn leg for the sake of this idiot,” he points towards izuku, that’s when everything goes in slow motion, and pro hero deku shines bright. he’s omitting a vibrant color and it’s nearly blinding (omg maybe your quirk is seeing/sensing auras)

(also, we’ll just say you’re wearing shorts for the sake of this)

you walk out from behind the barrier of the station and put your right leg on display. that’s when izuku chokes— it’s full of all the stencils he’s seen and… the villain tattoo. “fucking idiot, why would you tattoo a villain on you? you hate them,” bakugo slaps the side of your head, cause he’s an asshole. “cause it’s badass! plus it’s an old school villain, no one really knows ‘em.” you shrug and smack him back, narrowly avoiding his fresh tattoo (you wanted to hit it so bad) “anyways, why did you wanna know? and speak fast cause i have a client coming in twenty.” he forcefully takes izuku’s phone out of his hands, and shows it to you. “why am i looking at a blank screen? bakugo i don’t have time for this,” you push his hand back. “you didn’t let me unlock it,” izuku secretly rolls his eyes, you caught it though. he pulls up his gallery and shows a picture of his leg with your stencil on it.

your eyes narrow— not wanting to believe it cause like, you’re a small business owner and there’s no way a big time hero could be your soulmate. “yeah no, i have no time for bullshit. did someone send you this or something? trying to turn me in for a damn tattoo?” bakugo grumbles bc he’s ANNOYING (i love him) and grabs a pen. “draw something.” “you know i can’t with no reference. i’m shit without one.” “JUST DRAW! ON YOUR HAND! NOW!” “stop yelling all the damn time.” you grumbled and begrudgingly drew a horrible looking bunny. like— absolutely terrible !!! looking bunny onto your hand. bakugo, being the ass he is, RIPS off izuku’s glove and shoves his hand in your face. “bakugo. there’s nothing there. seriously you’re wasting my time, i need to set up. i don’t have time for jokes.” you go back to your station and start getting the ink ready. izuku rolls his eyes again— at his friend, not you. “that was the wrong hand,” he says in a slightly sassy tone, which was funny to hear from a pro hero. izuku takes his OTHER glove off and walks to you. “here,” he places his hand in front of you and you drop your tattooing gun.

“oh,” was all you said before walking into the back of your shop. you screamed a ‘what the fuck’ and walked right back out. “well, hi.” your smile is very awkward because like— how are you supposed to respond to that?? it’s not everyday that your soulmate ends up being a pro hero. “uhm… so can we meet after your uhm, next appointment?” he asks, very very shyly, it was like he was a high schooler all over again. you just give a head nod and write your personal number on the back of your business card. “uhm see you.”

months after that fateful day, you and izuku are officially together! he’s drawn you many designs for tattoos. (either for yourself or your clients)

now— izuku may be a very talented artist but when it comes to tattooing? absolutely not. he tried tattooing a small heart in between your fingers as a little practice thing and— let’s just say, it looks like a jacked star. (pls he felt so bad)

while it was a little ugly, you still loved it because he was the one to do it <3

OMG AND THE FIRST TIME YOU TATTOOED HIM— he tried not to cry. like— THIS MF USED TO BREAK HIS BONES DAILY!!! THIS MF FIGHTS BAD GUYS FOR A LIVING!!!! but it’s okay!! not everyone can handle getting a tattoo and that’s perfectly fine!!

ps most of his tattoos are all might hero based.

IZU ANON!!!!! i thoroughly enjoyed this <3

[kristinhateslife]

Ugh, those moments in ur art journey where u just hate ur own art goes sooooo hard

Like

Whattttttt, my art's great! Everyone says sooo, I've improved so much. Like actually! Ive improved soooo so much and i work sooo so hard

People like my arttttt ive been complemented sooo much and ive seen how much ive improved

But then why do i cry and panic over it basically every night??? I love drawing and everything but then why do i hate itttttt. The process is such a pain and i hate it i just hate it so fucking much

Lmao should've picked culinary as my profession, sucks i cant even use a fuckin stove tho but just ohhhh myyybgodddddddd

Sorry guysssss im a tiny bit panicky rnnn

Ugh where's my ink sans to hype me uppppppp ima cry againnnn

[insult-2-injury]

Loopholes - Part 1/2

Part 2

For my little scamp @ink-and-dagger

Feels funny to call this a birthday gift as it's taken me well over a month, but Happy Birthday, Inky. You are a pillar in this fandom and it just wouldn't be the same without you. Perpetually grateful for you, your sense of humor, your relentless pursuit of boosting others up, and the way you shove me into my school locker day after day. Thanks for being the biggest sweet pie and the biggest stinker all wrapped in one. Love ya <3

AO3 Link

Young Silco x F!Reader | 6.8k | NSFW | Enemies to lovers | Humor | Light Fluff | Mutual Masturbation | Dirty Talk | Finger Sucking |

Part 1

Hell. What a concept. Not something you’ve ever put much thought into.

You always thought the place a silly idea Pilties liked to put into the pampered little skulls of their children; some upper class notion created to further decouple topside from the city that lay rotting beneath, where the fires of poverty suffered liars and thieves. 

You used to think that perhaps Hell was located right beneath your very feet, deep within those wretched mines, a heat that could melt the soles of your boots curling and threading through the narrow alleys of the Sumps.

But if someone were to ask you right now, right at this very second, where Hell was, you’d say with a near certainty that it was sitting right here next to the most insufferable man in all of Runeterra.

And Silco isn’t even doing anything particularly wrong in this moment besides perhaps existing a little too close to you. Nothing you can properly remonstrate, really, without looking like a right asshole – although that’s certainly never stopped you before. 

He reclines in the chair beside yours, balancing on its back two legs as he rests those twiggy ankles on the rail of the balustrade you’re both tucked behind, shrouded in the shadows drawn by the eaves above. His wiry arms cross loosely over his chest, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

Silco is just too… much, and his personal brand of muchness is abrasive to your own. His presence at your side is wet cardboard sliding over skin, like steel wool scraping across teeth. Everything about him sets you on edge. Yet he just sits there existing as you wonder how in Janna he manages to carry around such an army surplus of arrogance within that impossibly skinny frame. 

His lips twitch as he senses your glare.

You huff, surging forward out of your seat and into a crouch to survey the expanse of ground thirty feet below. A chemical whirring noise sounds as your binoculars extend into a tiny tripod which you place atop the balustrade.

This little stakeout operation shouldn’t be difficult: observe, document, and scram so the planners can plan and the thieves can thieve. Dark times give way to innovation, optimists say, but as much as the Undercity prides itself on its potent resilience, there’s only so much one can do without proper medical provisions. 

And that’s why the two of you are here. To stake a route in and out of a Piltovan medical depot, gathering enough supplies to hit Piltover in the shin; nothing but a sting really.  Nothing, of course, that warrants any sort of collective punishment. Not that Piltover can exactly be trusted with equity. Odd it is, how retributive justice rarely applies when it comes to the likes of fissure folk. 

Just a damn shame you can hardly focus on the task.

“Cut that out,” you snap. 

Silco rolls the cigarette over to one corner of his mouth. “Hm?” His voice crackles slightly from disuse, the both of you having pulled the short straw, waking in the wee hours of the night for this mission.

“Scratching your head. You’re worse than my dog.”

He rolls his eyes and drawls. “No moving. No breathing.”

“Cut the attitude, fucko – I never told you to stop breathing. Although, feel free to try. Sitting there and sighing, like this is all sooo taxing.” You track an enforcer across the way, rounding a corner of the warehouse. “Besides, I’m doing you a favor. Well… a future one. Once you lose.”

You’re sure he can’t appear more disinterested if he tried. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Gotta learn your manners,” you say, spinning on your butt to face him, propping your hands theatrically beneath your chin to observe him in exaggerated pity. “I mean it’s an entire mystery to me how you’ve ever gotten laid at all. Walking through town like a mangy mutt.”

He follows your assertion with a condescending hum fit to appease an unruly child. You scowl. It isn’t fun when he doesn’t bite, when he swats away your attempts to provoke like one would a pesky gnat. How dare he bore you?

Your home has been with the Children of Zaun for almost half a year now, yet since the beginning your hostility toward Silco has never waned. The two of you make an incendiary duo; you can hardly last more than a few minutes in each other’s company before you’re not so much as pushing each other’s buttons, but taking a sledgehammer to them.

You despise each other. 

It isn’t that you’re a particularly ill-natured person. A bit of a contrarian maybe, but no, you’re normally able to play ball just fine with the rest of the Children, many if not most of them recalcitrant and cocksure. There was no way you’d have been able to escape the dismal fate of the Sumps if you hadn’t cemented that defiance and fortitude to each calloused palm as you clawed your way up tooth and nail.

 It’s just that Silco, well, he prods and digs at a nerve you didn’t even know you had. He’s rude, ostentatious, and for the life of you, you can’t understand how people don’t see through his tawdry little displays of ego. Acting like he’s carrying the entire weight of Zaun on those bony shoulders. You know, admittedly, that his lithe frame betrays a hidden strength but the twat looks like he’d be tossed ass over teakettle by even the mention of a stiff breeze.

“So have I won yet?” you ask casually, as if this question hasn’t preceded a massive quarrel ever since the two of you had made this stupid bet. How long have you been at it, a month now? 

Silco slumps somehow further down in his seat, tucking the cigarette behind his ear, brushing back loose strands of dark chestnut. “Have I gotten my dick wet?” He sniffs, apathetic. “No. You’ll be happy to hear I haven’t.”

“I’m not happy. Just get on with it, will you? I need that prize money.”

He scratches at his head again, the noise grating like sandpaper across your nerves. Your nose twitches as he hums and side eyes you. “Having a tough time, are you?”

“I will kick that chair right out from under you, don’t say I won’t.”

His lips twitch, the movement much too aggravated to be genuine amusement. “You’re especially ornery today.”

“Bet taking a tumble off this balcony wasn’t on your bingo card for today, huh?” you say, “Would pay good money to watch you get clobbered from up here.” Silco stares, eyes narrowing. “...What?”

He grunts and shrugs his shoulders. “Kinky.”

“Janna.” You shudder and grimace. “You’re a perv.”

“You’re the one paying to watch.”

“Ew,” you snap, “I’m not ‘having a tough time’, by the way. Appreciate your concern, though.”

He shakes his head and looks back to where the sun is just beginning to rise, pricks of golden yellow and blood orange needling across the Piltovan skyline. “How about you put away the fucking claws, hm? It’s 6:30 in the morning.” 

You curse at him under your breath and angle away to cool your bare arms on the marble of the balustrade. 

“This bet is stupid,” you say after a few minutes of silence. Silco makes a soft noise of agreement. “Like it’s really really dumb.”

“Giving up?” 

You huff at the impudent lilt in his tone. “Not at all. It’s a lame bet, though. Besides, we were both drunk when we shook on it-”

“You were drunk-”

“And there’s just too many loopholes to exploit. I mean, for all I know I’ve won already. I think we should, I don’t know, come up with a new one or something. Something more interesting, maybe.”

“You want to back out? Be my guest. But fork over that cash quick, will you?”

You hear the defensiveness in your tone and you scowl all the more. “Just trying to make it easier.” 

“Poor, pretty baby, are you struggling so hard?” he purrs.

Your jaw clenches tight and you spin around to glare out at the Piltovan sunrise. “Fuck, never mind. You’re annoying.” 

“You started this thing.”

And you hadn’t meant it to go this far. It was an admittedly childish accusation you’d lobbed at him over a night of heavy drinking: that there was no way he could survive a month without sex. 

He’d been strangely incensed by it, the girl he’d been chatting up slipping away soundlessly as the two of you shouted in the congested bar, both having found yourselves waiting on drinks.

It culminated in a bet: one week worth of pay for whoever held out with no sex the longest. 

No fucking. No oral. No kissing. And absolutely no heavy petting, you’d stated ardently, multiple times over the course of the night in case it escaped his thick skull.

“I’ll start thinking about what to buy with my prize money, then,” you say.

“Funny, I don’t remember asking.”

“What would you buy?”

“Ear plugs. For your morning chatter.”

“Haha,” you intone lightly. “Pretty selfish, though, if you ask me. Not giving it to the less fortunate and all that.” 

“You’re right.” His fingers fall to his vest, indicating himself with long, expressive fingers. You’re reminded oddly of the funny little Sump raccoons you’re always tossing scraps to – the ones with bright yellow eyes and chipped smiles that sit much too daringly on the tops of your alley trash bins. “I’d donate it all to charity. Oh, that’s right. I am the charity.”

“There’s always someone less fortunate,” you goad. “I mean, think of the kids, Silco,” you say and his exasperated gaze rolls skyward. “You don’t want to see the joy that lights up a child’s face when-?”

“No.”

“Monster,” you remark, reaching for your rucksack to dig through.

The leather of his vest crackles as shifts in his seat, dropping his sunstruck gaze to you. A red bird warbles a tune somewhere above. You listen to the flutter of feathered wings flitting about in the rafters, smiling softly when you hear the tiny twitters of hungry chicks.

The waking world falls into a gentle bliss.

Until he speaks again.

“You’re wasting your time taking notes like that,” Silco says as you scribble onto the tiny notepad you’ve pulled from your bag, sketching the layout of the warehouse. Your nose twitches with distaste and resolutely, you don’t turn, knowing you’d only find that painfully insolent smirk upon his face. “Don’t you know jobs like these are about instinct?”

Oh, now that raises your hackles. And you can glean from the condescending lift in his tone that he knows exactly what he’s doing, talking down to you like a fledgling. 

“You sure do sound wise, where do I sign up for your master class?” You say, carefully calm. “Hey, refresh my memory, was it instinct that almost got your ass arrested last week at the market?”

A pause.

“That was a trap.”

You lord over his near failure with a small smirk. “An obvious one. You know, if I laid out a human-sized rat trap with sticky bread and hung a big flashing arrow above it that said “This is a Trap, moron”, you’d still walk right into it.”

“It’s sticky bread.”

“It’s a trap.”

“It’s sticky bread,” he repeats, voice falling into a lower, almost guttural register as he looks pointedly at you, “Dirty sticky bread. Filthy, filthy sticky bread ready to be used-”

“Go get laid.”

“After you,” he cuts back in, ready, one corner of his lips creasing slightly in amusement.

“Can we just… do what we came here to do?” you snap. You shift on your butt, re-crossing your legs, alarmed by the subtle lick of heat that had them tensing in the first place. 

There’s an inexplicable, grating harshness to your tone and like a hound on the scent, Silco cocks his head down at you, the spotlight of his gaze almost accusing. 

Agonizingly slow, he nods.

“Of course,” he says finally with an almost practiced nonchalance, “The sooner we do, the better.”

You readjust your sweaty grip on the pen in your hand. “Glad we’re on the same page,” you murmur.

Your mind drifts back to when this not-so-cold war had begun.

Won’t last a week. Too soft. Good for book-keeping, perhaps – All things you’d overheard Silco speak to a seasoned crew of Children about you when you’d first arrived, having successfully completed your trials. And you hadn’t even introduced yourself yet. 

It was completely reasonable and mature, what you’d done: Gone out and spent hard-earned coin on a small ledger book, scrawling across the front page, “For book-keeping purposes: You’re a prick”. 

You’d handed it over casually at the Drop before leaving for the night, but not before you caught the sharp glint of deadly promise in his eyes as he’d opened the thing.

You liked to think you’d proven him wrong. Earned the respect of those that were worth their salt, rising in their ranks swiftly. And it was silly, you recognized wholly, the way you’d fixated upon the words of a man who meant nothing to you. 

Too soft.

For a long while you sit there drawing, both the breeze and Silco’s prickling gaze brushing occasionally across the planes of your profile. And you’re just about to turn and tell him to mind his damn business when he points to your notepad.

“And those are…?”

“Stick figure guards.”

“I imagine those will come in handy, thank you.”

You scowl and clap back. “They’re built like you.”

“Yeah?”

“No ass.”

You know it’s not the barbed insult you want it to be. Besides, Vander and Benzo give him enough shit for his twiggy figure that he’s immune to any commentary at this point. But you still take a little comfort in the unimpressed look upon his face. 

“I’m hurt,” he drawls.

You turn back to your work. “I mean I’m sure it does its job just fine as an ass, in the most basic sense. But it’s a bit of an eye sore otherwise.”

“Easiest solution would be for you to stop looking.”

“Well, I would but it’s hard to ignore the plight of a man attempting to walk on toothpicks.”

He puffs out an unamused laugh. “How about for our next bet, you attempt to be civil?”

“I don’t fuck with the impossible.”

“We’re a team now, aren’t we?”

“No, we’re not a team,” you correct, “The only reason I partnered with you this month was to make sure you didn’t find a way to cheat at this ‘bet’.”

“You just wanted to look at me, didn’t you.”

“I’m sure you’d like to think that.”

Silco drums his long fingers on the leather of his vest in thought. “And all those lonely nights on my own? How do you know I didn’t cheat then?”

A lump of odd discomfort dries in your throat and you feel a lick of irrational anger at the prospect, an unbidden emotion you quickly shake away with a toss of your head. “You’d be a filthy little rat bastard if you did.” You release an angry sigh. “Janna, this sucks. Who likes a long winded bet, anyway? You were dumb for that.”

He doesn’t bother with a counterattack, your point moot as you both know the thing was a mutual agreement. “Hm.”

“Besides, this isn’t going anywhere,” you say and suddenly your pen stills in its arc. You haven’t the faintest idea why. You blink uneasily down at the page, suddenly not able to do so much as clear your throat in the peculiar silence that follows. Swallowing, your eyes roll slowly to Silco’s. 

His voice pitches deep.

“Then lose,” he says simply, but there’s an electric undercurrent there, his expression ironing from one of strange scrutiny to a familiar impassivity. You rip your gaze away when it lingers too long. 

“You first.”

He taps his fingers idly. “Finish your picture, sweet.”

Your nose twitches in irritation, feeling suddenly within an ace of backhanding him across the throat. “Sure, hold on,” you say, shielding your notepad for a minute in order to stencil out a giant middle finger. “Here.”

With a thumb and forefinger, he plucks the paper from your hands.

“It’s deeply symbolic. Means ‘fuck you and the high horse you rode in on’.”

“Charming.”

“You should frame it.”

“I just might.”

You flop backward onto the ground with a heavy sigh, notepad confined to your bag. 

Why wasn’t this going anywhere? You thought he’d have caved weeks ago, lost as soon as the next pretty girl offered to drop trou for him. It was only one week worth of pay. Nuts and bolts, really. Nothing either of you couldn’t bounce back from. 

It’s just your irksome competitive streaks, you think. Just that.

“I’d buy records,” he says suddenly and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“...What?”

“I’d buy more records with the money.” He’s staring out at the horizon, where the sun is almost fully risen, like it’s a curious thing he’s never seen before.

“...Is that supposed to guilt me or something?”

His head ticks down to your prone form and he speaks simply. “No.”

You stare, uneasy at the strange sincerity. “Ok.” It’s all you can think to say.

Silco looks upon you almost as if he’s expecting something, like he’s just offered you a cool glass of water in a sweltering heat. The strange admission means nothing, you’re certain of it, yet it resonates somewhere deep, somewhere terrifyingly low in your belly.

“I’d buy books,” you blurt and immediately want to kick yourself for deigning to branch outside the hostile boundaries of your normal fights. 

His lips curl up in mild amusement and you break from his stare, wanting nothing more than to hiss at him, tear at his hair. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his head twitch in the tiniest of nods.

Further heat blossoms across the apples of your cheeks as you steal a glance at him only to find him still staring. Ironing on an expression of what you hope is cold indifference, you hold his gaze. But he doesn’t return the favor, only stares a breath longer before turning back to the open sky in thought.

The light, relieved from the thick murk of the Undercity, gleams exceptionally bright upon the dark chestnut waves of Silco’s hair, half pulled back. Pinks and reds mix with the rare green of his irises and you want to lean forward, examine the way they bleed together. But you opt resolutely to close your eyes in lieu of openly staring.

Warm light dances behind your eyelids. The gentle breeze carries on it the honeyed smells of bakeries setting out their pastries for the day. The lulling whirs of the city of progress coming to life beyond the little bubble of filth you both exist in, the only evident tie binding you and Silco together being the one ready to ignite, to destroy it all.

Except it isn’t the only tie, is it? Your childhoods are exceptionally similar. You share interests. The same knack for collecting pretty things. 

Danger, danger, danger.

You abruptly sit up, lassoing your focus repeatedly as you try to pay attention to the task before you. But your mind adamantly strays.

Shit.

You spring onto your booted feet and pace back into the shadows. “How am I supposed to know you haven’t cheated already?” you ask, curling your fists to stop nervous fiddling with the pockets of your pants.

“Do you really think I’d lie to you?” You shiver. Even his voice sounds different to you now. Grittier than before, or is that just a silly making of your imagination?

“I’m being serious, you cad.”

“You want to put a chastity lock on my balls?”

“None small enough.”

“Witty.”

“I know,” you agree, “Listen, I wouldn’t put cheating past you is all. To fit in a wank or something while I’m not paying attention.”

He recrosses his legs, adjusting in his seat casually. “Rules never stated we couldn’t have a wank.”

You whipped your head around embarrassingly fast. “You have?!”

First mistake, you realize immediately as his gaze sharpens. “You want to know if I’ve touched myself?” His eyes are steady, unwavering upon yours.

“Fuck no. Nevermind.”

His head cocks. “You’re not even curious?”

A troubled, restless feeling washes through you, like you’re sitting on a dock, dangling your feet above dark, murky water.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’.

“Have you?”

“Fuck off-” 

“Have you touched yourself?” No change of inflection, nothing denoting full blown mockery. Just a predatory curiosity. You’re dragged beneath the surface, a shocking wash of hot desire sending your stomach coiling in on itself at his flippant words, too quick, too direct. They hit their mark and he seems to know it, his gaze dropping to the tiny twitches of your fingers. “I could be wrong, but I don’t imagine you have.”

Silco imagining you. 

“Why’s that?” You rasp and you swear what you meant to do was tell him to shut his trap. His delight in your unease is somehow palpable, despite his features remaining unchanged.

“Just seems like you’d be one to take on the extra credit.”

You release a shuddering breath. This is bad. This is Silco. And it’s why you need to end this now. He’s a chronic flirt, a player, a bad guy. And you weren’t born yesterday.

“You’re nasty,” you say, searching deep for that spark of anger that’s always at the ready around him. But you come up empty.

He cocks his head. “You asked me first.”

“Eat dirt.”

 “You’re so rude to me. Wondered why for so long,” he says glibly, observing you a moment before shrugging, “Should’ve just said something if you wanted to watch me have it off.”

An abrupt vision of Silco fucking his fist for you has blood thrumming startlingly hot through your veins. You halt, hands falling to rest shakily on your hips. His measured gaze drifts slowly across your abdomen, shirt hitched slightly, a sliver of bare skin tightening and prickling with goose flesh as his tongue pushes against his teeth in thought. 

It’s high tide and you’re losing ground fast. 

“Thanks, but…” you begin and stop. You bite your lip hard, release it before gnawing again as he watches your indecision like it’s primetime television. You stare for another moment, allowing the anticipation to marinate before you finally speak. 

“Thanks but I’d rather watch time lapse footage of Benzo passing a kidney stone.”

Silco curses under his breath. You bask in a centering satisfaction as that vulturous mask drops and he seems to pass through every stage of grief, a thumb and forefinger rising to grip at the bridge of his nose. 

You return to your chair, brushing invisible lint off your pants, hands trembling with a strange, frenetic energy. “You know, Silco, this entire bet thing could’ve been avoided if you didn’t have such a weird fucking God complex.”

Silco nods vehemently in mock agreement, a barely concealed frustration now pinching the space between his brows. “I’m the one with the complex? You’re right-”

“I know,” you interrupt with a sugary sympathy.

“It’s my fault you drank yourself stupid that night,” he snarls.

“Yep.”

“My fault you can’t keep that mean little mouth of yours closed around me.”

“Bless your heart-”

“Shut up,” he barks. And you uncharacteristically heed the command for a moment, jaw snapping shut before you stutter.

“I-”

His voice is a whip cracking the air and landing with a single resounding snap. “I said shut up.”  He’s mulling something over and you examine that knife blade of a jaw with darting eyes as it clenches and unclenches.

“Earlier you were asking me to put an end to this funny little bet of ours,” he alleges dangerously and he finally meets your gaze, eyes glittering like twin swords, “Is that still what you want?”

You’re certain you don’t know what he means, but the shudder that tracks your spine and the coinciding lightning strike of scorching heat in your lower belly says otherwise. You swallow hard, lowering your chin to your chest quickly. Too quickly to go unnoticed.

Your uncharacteristic lack of retort hangs heavy in the air, mind staunchly blank.

“I mean,” he interrupts, hand gesturing calmly, whimsically contradicting the venom lacing his tone. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cute for a while-”

“Cute?!” 

 “You picking fights. The quarreling. But now…I think it’s time this ends.”

“End… what. What’s ending?” your voice is too quiet, breathy, so cautious of the tension that is pulling wildly taut from a subtle, pulsing place behind your navel.

“The games,” he intones.

“Games?”

He looks you dead in the eye. “Touch yourself.”

You move without thought. With him balancing on only two chair legs, it’s easy to bring him down with a single, precise kick. A fine slice of terror splits your chest at the terribly loud screech of metal against stone. You spider backward until your back crashes into the balustrade. You turn immediately to peer through the gap between the stones, but as far as you can tell, nobody below heard the clatter. You whip your head back, your entire body an overheating furnace as your breath comes in sharp pants..

You dig deep to rally up some of that vicious loathing from just minutes ago but it’s the way he’s looking at you, sitting up from where he’d been spilled onto the ground, hair disheveled, displeasure plain on the fine slants of his sunlit face. He’s seething but there’s an empty-bellied curiosity there, like he’s rearranging pieces at every turn to figure you out, keen eyes darting between yours. 

“Now why would you go and do that?” 

And there it is. That anger. Anger, you’re familiar with. Anger you can dig your speared little claws into, an infinite wellhead you can work with. 

“Because I wouldn’t trust you as far as I can spit.”

He opens his mouth to retort but now it’s your turn to interrupt. You fall forward, collapsing onto your palms as you lean forward to emphasize.

“Because you’re an asshole. Because you walk around all arrogant like you’re Janna’s fucking gift to mankind, like your opinion is the only one that matters.” Silco rises to a crouch, collapsing back onto his heels, chipped teeth flashing as his head tips back with a strained sigh of frustration. “You think everything is about you, you, you. You’re selfish. You don’t listen to me, you don’t even listen to people who like you. Because Janna forbid Silco doesn’t get what he wants, right? You’re just a little control freak-”

“That’s enough,” his head snaps forward and his gaze narrows on yours with a deadly focus, “My turn.”

With thrilling speed, Silco hooks fingers behind your bent knees and drags your startled form forward between his spread thighs. You sink scrambling talons into the metal shoulder clasps on his vest feeling very much like a cat dangling over an ice bath as he leans forward, forcing you into an uncomfortable back bend. His lips curl acrimonious around each word, hot and cutting as his breath puffs across your face.

“You’ve got your head in the clouds and you can’t separate reality from fiction in that pretty little brain of yours. You only see what you want to see, and you want me to be the bad guy so badly, don’t you, sweetheart?” You lose the death grip, your palms flattening on the ground instead. His long-fingered hands slide to wrap the tops of your thighs to hold you there. “Janna, you’re still sore about something that happened how many months ago, five? Six? You hold grudges like most people hold hands.”

All of your attention goes to running him through with your speared glare. It’s a losing game, trying to absorb what he’s saying when the insides of his thighs scorch so perfectly against the outsides of yours, the points of contact setting aflame the now soaking nexus point between your legs.

“You never even apologized,” you hiss.

“Apologized for what? For your snooping? Oh, you’re so good at it – getting nosy and hurting your own feelings.” 

“Apologize for your lack of an inside voice, and- and-” You stutter, feeling childish, grasping for insults in your tattered state, your breath sweeping a few strands of unkempt hairs across his forehead. “And your big mouth. And your- your giant, stupid nose. If you’d only tilt your head back, you could probably reach Piltover.”

“Nnnh, you’re so fucking frustrating, how you talk to me,” he spits, inches away now, eyes glinting with something perilous and alive. 

“How I talk to you? You always talk down to me!”

Silco’s fingers dig painfully into your thighs. Neither of you stand down, chests brushing each other with each furious breath in, eyes ablaze. His breath hitches when your tongue darts out to wet your lips and he looks almost lost for a few long moments before his gaze ticks back up to yours. 

His voice drops lethally low, a rumbling purr against your breasts. “I bet we’d fuck hard.”

The words make contact like an iron fist to the stomach, stealing your next breath, your spine bowing slightly as your cunt clenches and flutters around nothing at all. You know he feels the punched sigh of breath fan upon his cheekbones, sharp as knives.

“What?” you breathe.

“You want this entire thing to be a fight to the end, don’t you?” His throat bobs dryly and you can’t tell if he’s gotten closer or if his lips were this close to yours before. “You want to push and push, you little hypocrite, until I snap and fuck you the way you’ve been begging me to for months now.”

Greedy little flowers in your chest both wither and bloom as you rake wildly around in his eyes for some telltale glimmer that will call his bluff. You need to move out from under his sharklike gaze. But you’re utterly paralyzed and your wide-eyed stasis is too obvious.

You rile up anger from a quickly drying well.

“Arrogant.  Just like I said.”

“Head in the clouds, just like I said,” he says, voice having lost that angry fervor. 

The tip of his nose brushes barely against yours as he averts his gaze down to your chest, breasts pushed up from your position and rising with quick, shallow breaths. 

Move. 

One hand remains clawed into the clothed skin of your leg while the other drags up to your waist, thumb finding the twitching skin of your hip bone, massaging there much too gently.

“Look at you, all mad and hissing,” he says, almost in wonder, “Except you’re not even mad at me, are you, you’re mad at yourself. So mean to me.” His gaze drops lower. “I should eat you out.”

A thick, golden ribbon of desire unravels fast and pools hot. You squeeze your eyes shut. Those lips, so expressive in the way they shape sound, sheltering in the neglected, burning place between your legs. Worshiping the skin of your inner thighs with featherlike kisses.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl.

You throw one closed fist into his chest, the angle too awkward to do anything but merely thump him. You pounce forward, indignation lighting the way as you shove him onto his back. His head smacks lightly against the concrete ground, long hair splaying like a chestnut crown. You feel a flicker of guilt at the strained groan he releases before it’s dashed instantly when his green eyes snap open with a new, laserlike focus. 

Silco snatches long fingers at your waist and rolls his hips deliberately upward.

Your nails dig half-moons into his bare biceps as you fight and fail to reign in an embarrassing whine. Another quiet groan releases in tandem with his when his hands migrate to your ass, gripping and pulling your neglected, clothed pussy across his length again. The pads of his fingers zigzag a tickling pattern up your sides before his thumbs curl around your front to cup and palm your breasts.

“Stop!” you wheeze. He pauses. “You lose. Fair and square.”

“What?” He breathes, all worked up now, thumbs sweeping in an upward arc and catching your stiff nipples. Your jaw falls in a silent cry, head falling to your chest to get your bearings.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” you spit.

You toss his hold off and jab your index finger into his chest hard. “You broke the ‘no heavy petting’ clause. How many times did I tell you no heavy petting? That? That was heavy petting.” 

You’re quivering, trying to ignore the way he’s half-hard and pressing so heavy and delicious against your core, how all you want to do is grind yourself along him again.

Silco looks about ready to throttle you. “You think I care about a bet?”

“Yes, of course you do, your ego can’t handle the tiniest loss.” You prod another finger into his sternum and he snatches the offending wrist, yanking you toward him.

“Enough with the stupid bet,” he hisses.

“Then fork over that cash quick, will you?” He snarls as his own words are thrown back in his face. “You lost. Admit it and we can move on.” 

“Oh no, no.” Silco juts his head forward until he’s growling into your ear. “If I lost, then so did you, because this isn’t at all one-sided, sweetheart. You play dirty. Filthy.”

“Do I?” You turn your head, too, to hiss into his ear, voice crackling with desire. “You know what, fine. I’ll throw a poor man a bone. I’ll give you a second chance and we can pretend you didn’t just cop a feel of my entire ass.”

One set of fingers releases your wrist, slides up the silken slope of your neck until it fists tight into your hair to hold anchor there instead. You squirm when his nose mashes against your temple, dragging back and forth as he grates into your ear. “And I’ll pretend you weren’t just whining into my ear like a little cock-hungry brat.”

“FINE.”

Without much thought, you shove your hand down the front of your pants, fingers diving straight into the slickness between your thighs. With your head tucked against his neck, you get to only imagine the look on his face as his body goes rigid beneath yours: that indelible crease between his brows ironing out in surprise, his jaw slackening as your knuckles unwittingly brush the column of his arousal while you tend to your own. 

You grit into his sweat damp neck. “Loophole. Apparently.” Reaching between your legs proves to be incredibly difficult without arching your spine, wriggling until your ass juts into the air. 

“Janna…”

“I just want the money. Now watch.”

Your knees dig uncomfortably into the hard ground but you push, straining to reach your arm further in order to sink two fingers easily into your drenched pussy with a shuddered, relieved gasp. It’s like he doesn’t know where to put his hands, hovering them ghostlike over your ribs and waist – as if you’re suddenly some delicate thing. 

“You’re wicked,” he breathes, “You have no idea…”

“Suffer.”

His stupor is effectively broken.

“Hold still.” You’re forced to temporarily disengage as he sits up, moving you effortlessly across the concrete until his back hits the marble of the balustrade. 

There’s a terrifying intimacy about being suddenly face to face with your foe, cum-slick fingers digging into the sides of his vest for purchase. And Silco looks absolutely wrecked, head falling back against the stone, face flushed and savage as he takes you in fully with pupils blown wide.

You feel too seen in this position, need the shelter of the crux of his neck but he doesn’t allow it, calloused palm quickly wrapping a loose necklace around the column of your throat to hold you still.

“Loopholes,” he taunts, squeezing lightly enough that you can pull away if you want to, but enough that he most definitely feels your anxious swallow. “Nervous?”

You eviscerate him with a fierce glare. It’s easier in this position to shove down your pants and reach the drenched wetness between your legs again. “No.” 

“Good girl,” he says with a breathtaking grin.

You swallow down the pleasured keen that rises to your throat with those two words, fingers slick and instantly moving at a desperate pace.

That’s it,” he says. Silco’s wild eyes rove over your stiff, vibrating form like you’ll disappear at any moment. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, letting go.”

“I’m n- I’m not. L-Letting go of anything, you bastard.” 

“Of course you aren’t.”

One of his long-fingered hands glides down to smooth over the impressive bulge pushing tight against the front fabric of his pants– up and down, up and down slowly palming himself. Abdomen tightening in his attempts to thrust with the movement, even as you have him pinned. You can’t take your eyes off it and if you weren’t so insane with arousal you would’ve been embarrassed by the way your mouth waters. 

“Sometimes,” he says,  “I think you want me all to yourself.”

“False.”

“That night at the bar. You saw me talking to someone else and you didn’t like it very much, did you?” 

“Saved her a dry and p-pitiful fuck.” A ragged huff of laughter pulls from his throat because he can hear the hypocrisy of your words, the furious back and forth schlick of your fingers. “You deserved the loss.”

He hums appreciatively. “But look what I’ve won.”

Something terribly warm and possessive ghosts across the hollow of your chest like feathers upon harp strings and you move unwittingly faster, like you can punish him for it. His temple settles against your cheekbone as his head dips to better watch your frantic ministrations beneath the fabric of your pants.

Silco releases a starved, shuddering sigh that drifts across your bare collarbone and the hand he had upon his clothed cock lifts to wrap your free wrist. He slides it up his leg until it reaches his upper thigh, where he curls your fingers in silent challenge.

End this.

His skin burns catastrophically hot beneath your palm and you can only imagine the raging column of hard heat that would greet you if you moved the pads of your fingers just a few inches up. 

You muffle a soft whine, pressing your neck into his stiff palm to steal a further, more keening cry as your index finger catches your clit in a particularly delicious way. Pleasure drops like a stone in your lower belly and you feel the spark of an approaching release.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whines back into your ear, almost mockingly. Your jaw drops in a bid for air as he squeezes the span of two breaths from you before releasing. “It’s all so difficult, isn’t it?”

“Janna, you’re the f-fucking worst.” You gasp as soon as you can and he pulls back to look at you with an almost fondness. “I can’t stand you-” 

Lightning quick, fingers peel off your sweat slick neck to press and invade the cavern of your mouth, sliding two digits across your tongue before pulling back to catch on the ridge of your teeth, thumb arcing electric under to grip your jaw in warning.

“Be nice.”

You mean to protest, to bite down, but instead find yourself sucking the digits greedily back into your mouth.

“We don’t have to fuck like animals, you know,” he says, watching you work almost reverently. “Although, maybe that’s what you need. Get all that aggression out. Must be exhausting, hm?”

“Nnh nnh,” you protest and he slides the pads of his fingers back across your tongue until you gag, eyes clouding with water as he scissors them around before pulling back.

“We can go slow, though, if that’s what you want.” He hums quietly. “We’ve got time.”

Silco tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear and it’s so fucking soft, so contradictory to the way he fucks his fingers into your mouth. You feel yourself melting and it’s terrible and wonderful, and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Go ahead and lose, sweetheart,” he says softly, “Lose and I’ll replace those pretty fingers of yours with my tongue.”

And you’re so close, so close to moving that hand upward – moving it so you can finish on his mouth, so you can put an end to all this tension you hadn’t even known had been rising all along.

But he stiffens suddenly beneath you and through the haze of pleasure you’re scrabbling for reality as he suddenly presses your face into his neck to quiet your cries, shushing you urgently.

“Quiet, quiet, quiet,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to free the hand working in your pants. You cling, confused, to his vest as you pant, coming down from the precipice of orgasm, feeling cheated and ready to fight until you hear it, too.

The scuffle of multiple pairs of boots on metal, coming up the stairs.

“Run.”

<3 <3 <3

Thank you so much for reading, I can't wait to put these idiots to bed in Part 2. If you feel so inclined, reblog/leave a comment - I'd love to hear what you thought. If you liked, check out my other works here!

Thank you to my beautiful, whip smart betas for supporting me through this funny lil endeavor @sherwood-forests @averagecrastinator

Happy Birthday, Ink

[hiraunia]

Guess who made more fanart? This lil' guy!

@crinklytinfoil 's Series The Best Laid Plans of Crewmates and Imposters has been carrying my mental state(Funny considering how dark and fucked it gets) for the past few months so it was only natural for me to make some more, finally getting out those little scenes in my head on to something.

I know that the uniforms should all be the same but I just couldn't help myself! I just couldn't get the idea that the Emancipator and Parmenides gets special uniforms out if my head, like Parmenides is a special base/mission thing so they get some bulkier, more insulating outfits and the Emancipator is like the best Gaurdien Ship in Mira so they get the cool fancy outfits to signify how important they are. Kinda backwards but I designed the standared Mira suits(Browns) last so I already ran out unique uniform suloetes which is why its skin tight, not what I would typically give to them but the Parmenides ones where already what I would tyically give to an astronaut or whatever but I thought they looked too cool for your average crewmate and Mira sucks so they get the dumb skinsuits. Don't ask why the fancier uniforms are monocolor and basic ones have grey accents, I needed something to make it more intresting.

So I drew this like a month ago and I kinda hate it but also still like it. I figured I may aswell show it since I did work hard on it. This was atcually drawn traditionally, like I inked it and then edited a photo so I could add the colors digitally which is why its a little more janky than the first doodles and theres ink everywhere. I love Yellow so much, that pose made all the bs I delt with with the ink worth it. Also if you hadn't noticed Dani's design is different, yah I made this a month ago and only realiseds like two days ago that Dani was described with black locs not brown curls! Wish it didn't take me that long to realise that becuse locs are SOOO much eaiser to draw than curls, esspecially shorts curls I hate them so much! Atcually I hate drawing short hair in general, this has been a somewhat tourturous experince for me!

This is from another tradtional sketch I colored but it was the only doodle I liked so behold! Cyan and Grey being cute together on the way to the tower(?)

I love this doodle so much, it the only one i have of any one with their helmets on and thats kinda a shame becuse I feel like geting rid of the face makes me give them more expressive body language. I've been struggling to make the helmets with the other uniforms look good so thats probly why. The Parmenides uniform have that tall neck that connects the head to the body better but the other two are having this odd bobblehead(heh) effect. I need to experiment more with it.

Anyways its 3 am and I need to stop staying us so late! Have a good time of day!

[stepswowdsen]

【KagePro】 KuroEne AU: Rambles 🖤💙

The state of knowledge. An animal being who exists as someone closer to nature.

This post is mainly Kuroha and KuroEne centric, but I mentioned my other ships and faves from other series to draw parallels and point out similarities and differences.

A collection of KuroEne centric rambles:

Kuroha's state of knowledge

KuroEne AU: Ene confronts Kuroha, telling him he's not as infallible as he claims to be

Kuroha's existence as an animal being who exists as someone closer to nature

KuroEne is SUUUUCH an interesting and fascinating ship to think about and analyze. They give me immense brainrot

The nature of their complicated complex messy relationship due to their characters' context.

Kuroha's role as the big bad villain and main source of conflict and tension in KagePro's plot, Takane/Ene's relationships with Haruka and Konoha, HaruTaka and KonoEne's contexts, and how he possesses the vessel of someone that Takane/Ene has a unique special relationship with and uses the knowledge of their memories as an advantage for him.

The truly evil monster who wears the face of a former (lost) love (lover), and how their relationship is clearly infused with love, obsession, desire, passion, and attachment (for the both of them).

(Ene feels all of these things, as well as a mix of love and hatred and conflicting emotions.)

It all comes together to create a really fascinating dynamic.

...

I really need to start posting more of the meta/analysis ramble posts I have of my other faves. As well as my other ship AUs' dialogue scripts.

I have SOOO many dialogue scripts and ramble posts I haven't posted. I love all of my top 5 main ships dearly.

I've mainly been posting about KuroEne, just cuz I only have the KuroEne ones ready and prepared to post LMAO

Cuz again, these types of posts take time to format. I write them in my Notion docs and then cross-post them to my socials (Insta, Tumblr) and sometimes Twitter.

Twitter is terrible for long ramble posts, my style of posting, so I just post the screenshots

LimGuda

Source: (X)

“An increase in knowledge burns up the ‘state of ignorance’ as sacrifice. Those who gain more wisdom are compensated for it by facing more pain and suffering. Even more so, for those who try to reach the gods’ wisdom. This is what it means ‘to know’”

Reminds me of when I was rereading the Ashiya Douman vs. Dioscuri Anthology comic by AU (@/delete_au), that has huge amounts of LimGuda (Douman/Ritsuka) crumbs.

AU’s art style is so intricately detailed and gorgeous. The perspectives, inking, and shading are so gorgeous. Huge art goals for me.

I have a lot more to say but I haven’t finished my commentary rambles on the whole thing yet, but just know that the characterization surplus (Douman meta analysis) and LimGuda crumbs in this anthology comic truly drive me crazy.

In the scene after Ritsuka calls on the Dioscuri, Douman tells Ritsuka that the one who gets closer to the stars and obtains more knowledge/wisdom, isolates themselves further and is “compensated by facing more pain and suffering” as a reference to Abe no Seimei, who is the fated nemesis/rival of Ashiya Douman, and how Douman had been worried about Seimei’s isolation.

Seimei hasn't been released as a playable character in FGO, nor does he have a design, but I'm waiting for it... Hopefully it happens one day cuz it sucks not knowing whether he'll ever be released or not.

AU (@/delete_au) has a massive brain since the scenes, visuals, story and dialogue of this Anthology Comic were decided by them. It’s also no surprise that this comic, which is a characterization surplus for Douman, has huge amounts of LimGuda (Douman/Ritsuka) and SeiDou (Seimei/Douman) food, considering Douman’s obsession with them (Seimei and Ritsuka)

Kuroha/Saeru: The embodiment of "Knowledge/Wisdom"

The major difference between Kuroha/Saeru and what was mentioned in AU’s Anthology Comic is that Kuroha/Saeru is VERY distanced from humanity.

Unlike my FGO faves, he lacks humanity and softer traits. He considers himself above humans (and also considers himself to be above human emotions and human sentimentality). But not entirely.

I thought about it since Kuroha/Saeru is the embodiment of “Knowledge/Wisdom” as a dark evil cunning and malicious entity in KagePro. Though I think what’s interesting is that a Kuroha ship AU actually gives him more of a semblance of humanity…

Cuz he would’ve learned and gained more human desires and sentiments and learned slightly softer tendencies. Though, compared to my other faves, canon-verse Kuroha/Saeru lacks humanity

KuroEne AU: Dialogue Script

Anyways I had been thinking about this separate idea based on the concept of Ene wondering about the extent of Kuroha/Saeru's knowledge.

It's natural to be curious about that kind of thing. She hardly knows anything about him so she asks him about the kinds of things that he's seen and observed all this time.

I thought about it after seeing the FGO: Anthology comic at how acquiring more knowledge distances you from humanity and causes to further isolate yourself from others.

Kuroha's case is different since he lacks humanity and looks down on all things. He won't be affected by it the same way others would.

He wouldn't be compensated with facing more pain and suffering cuz he is above that (for the most part, not entirely), and THE root cause of other peoples' pain and suffering. But it's still interesting to think about...

KuroEne AU: Ene confronts Kuroha

The post is mainly about Kuroha/Saeru, but I decided to give context cuz I thought it was relevant, since my top FGO faves inspired me to make these rambles.

In my KuroEne AU, Kuroha/Saeru refers to his intimate encounters/trysts with Ene as “games.”

I actually DO think that Ene can manage to provoke him and get under his skin with her bratty provocations.

Kuroha would constantly flaunt his own knowledge of how he knows her and her desires intimately due to his confidence and ego, telling her that he’s been with the Enes of previous Routes before.

Ene, who’s constantly annoyed by her own feelings and has trouble facing more honest feelings, rationalizes their intimate encounters as not trysts, but just playing the game with him so she can defeat him.

Kuroha gets especially amused by this, since he’s aware of Ene’s tendency to avoid confronting how she really feels, and tells her that she can believe whatever she wants.

Kuroha would point out to her that “her own curiosity has led her here” irt the games they play (spending time with and being intimate with each other), and that, whether she realizes it or not, she’s searching for something from him (ie. the desire for warmth and companionship), beyond just “wanting to defeat him and win at the game”

Source: Kagerou Daze Manga: Mary confronts Kuroha/Saeru

(Anyways, I put images to imagine his expressions, how he goes from his usual smug and composed demeanour to lowkey annoyed when Ene finally manages to rile him up and get under his skin.)

Ene probably bites back at him that the same applies to him as well. His own curiosity has led him here. He’s the one that started this in the first place. He chooses to play this game with her and is the one that initiates it every single time. He could end it if he wished. But he won’t.

Because no matter what, he's gonna hold onto the concept of “Eternity” that he created by causing the time loops. Because he wants to live forever and prioritizes his self-preservation above all else (as his main goal).

And in the context of a Kuroha ship AU, wants his S/O to be with him forever as his form of twisted selfish obsessive love (as his secondary goal).

Given what he’s told her about his experiences with the Enes of past Routes, Ene tells him that, at some point he got bored of killing everyone and wanted to try something new to keep things interesting.

Ene tells him to his face that he has a twisted disposition for building up relationships with people he plans to kill eventually. It’s even more cruel than just killing them.

Still unfazed, Kuroha nods and reaffirms her words that it was curiosity that led him here in the first place, and was what got him to approach her and come up with the idea of tinkering with human tech and indulging in human carnal pleasures.

...

At some point, Ene would have a realization about Kuroha/Saeru.

Kuroha relinquishes control in their bedroom intimacy and allows her to have these little victories just to appease her. He lets her win and grants the victories to her on purpose. He doesn’t mind letting her take the reigns in their bedroom intimacy because it just proves that she wants to continue doing this (playing the game) with him.

It still aligns with what he wants. And so, he considers all the games they play, victories for him as well. He always wins, no matter the outcome.

She thought she had been reigning him in to an extent (putting this cat snake on a leash) by being more assertive and dominant, but the truth is that he only chooses to act tamer, and still fundamentally holds the power in their dynamic.

He dangles control (in intimacy) over her head and lets her have it, but can also take it back at any time, if he so pleases.

Ene gets frustrated when the realization dawns on her. Kuroha/Saeru can continue to remain so calm and confident and smug, because he fundamentally holds control and power over all others (irt his overwhelming advantage in strength and knowledge). So, his control and power aren’t ever actually being threatened.

But Ene really wants to get under his skin and wipe the smug look off his face and get a leg up on him, just this once. She wants to have a true victory over him, not just because he let her win. But she doesn’t want to do anything to Konoha (Haruka’s body).

Ene realizes that there IS something that she can use and get over him. So she decides to take her shot at him in the way she knows how to do best — bratty provocations.

...

Ene tells him that Kuroha/Saeru can only afford to act so high and mighty because he’s never actually being threatened.

Ene tells him that he’s not as infallible as he thinks he is. And that despite what he believes, he is not immune to, or above, human emotion, and human sentimentality.

Kuroha/Saeru recognizes that Ene is clearly trying to provoke him on purpose to try and make him lose his control and composure for once, even if just for a bit. He calmly raises an eyebrow and goes like, “Oh? Do tell. How so?”

If Ene is aware of his origins (maybe Kuroha/Saeru decided to open up about it and tell her on his own accord when she was curious and wanted to know more about him, before), then Ene tells him how he’s clearly not above human emotion when he witnessed the love Azami experienced with her family and spited the world and humanity for it.

And, for the first time, this manages to wipe the smirk off his face.

And imo, Ene biting back at him with this, WOULD manage to get under his skin.

FGO: Tunguska Sanctuary

Source: (X)

In the Tunguska Sanctuary event, Koyanskaya, a Nature Spirit born as an incarnation of the thoughts and feelings of animals persecuted by mankind, tells Chaldea what makes humanity so incorrigible, what she finds so despicable and loathes about humanity, and all their virtues and vices.

Koyanskaya: Creatures who will expire in a few millenia despite gaining wonderful technologies and knowledge. Koyanskaya: Multiplying without caring for their brethren, without healing the earth— Koyanskaya: An ecosphere where the ignorant strong ultimately trample on the ignorant weak.

Chaldea's crew reacts to Koyanskaya's speech with disbelief. Nikitich criticizes Koyanskaya for “mocking the failures of others, just like a human would.”

The whole thing is fascinating. Koyanskaya's dialogues are all SO good.

Chaldea's confrontation with Koyanskaya (pre final boss battle): (19:00 - 30:00)

Koyanskaya's speech: (19:00 - 23:30)

KuroEne AU: Ene confronts Kuroha

Coming back to KuroEne, I think Ene can use this against him as well.

In the Mekakucity Records Booklet, Outer Science’s section describes Kuroha/Saeru as a “monster that overlooks everything — peoples’ lives, hearts, meetings, memories, deaths, and looks down on it all, and how “he started influencing peoples’ everyday lives merely to kill time.”

He thinks he’s above everything, humanity, human emotion and human sentimentality. But in reality, he’s not. He’s still prone and susceptible to it.

With his actions, he’s just “mocking the failures of others, just like a human would.” Ene tells him he’s not the supreme being he thinks he is, but doing exactly what a human would.

...

In the context of a Kuroha ship AU, specifically KuroEne AU in this case, Kuroha’s selfish, twisted desire to continue the time loop tragedy out of self-preservation (as his main goal above all else), and then on a secondary level, being motivated by a twisted obsession to keep up the game with his partner for eternity, also creates a human-like irony/contradiction in him.

Ene goes like, “I told you before, didn’t I? How you started all of this in the first place.”

Ene comes back to her point of how he started doing all of this (playing the “game” and being intimate with her) out of curiosity.

Even though he mocked Azami’s love for his family… At some point, in his desire to make the Routes more fun and interesting, he started indulging in carnal pleasures and craving the touch of a human (the very beings he claimed to both love and look down upon for their foolishness, etc.)

The one that started this game was him. The one that went through the efforts of tinkering with human tech, making the android body and improving upon it everytime with each rendition, was him. The one who approached her to propose the game with her, and even after this many times, still chooses to do this with her, is him.

Source: Sidu's Playing Card Set (Kuroha Joker Playing Card)

(This is how I imagined his expressions. For the first time, his smug grin drops to a neutral expression, almost annoyed, even... She's clearly gotten under his skin.)

Ene then asks him, “When did you finally start becoming a little more human?”

When Ene’s done her speech, Kuroha’s expression finally drops to a silent (…)

Ene revels in her victory after seeing Kuroha’s momentary loss of composure.

She managed to get under his skin like she wanted. This is a true victory for her, and they both know it. She won this time, and not because he let her win.

Ene feels proud and triumphant for finally being able to strike a nerve in him and “winning” against him. She then gives him a cheeky grin like, “Finally wiped the smug look off your face!”

...

Kuroha/Saeru feels a tinge of annoyance.

Still, though, he doesn’t want to let her bask in the victory for too long, so he quickly recovers and regains his composure and usual smug demeanour, and scoffs at how ridiculous and absurd the notion of him becoming more human is.

He congratulates Ene for her victory and tells her that her predictable unpredictability has always kept things interesting between the two of them. He didn’t expect her to bring up his Master (Azami) as leverage against him in their verbal confrontation.

KuroEne AU: Dialogue Script

KuroEne, IdaTatsu, and FGO Rambles

When I saw Feila's KuroEne x IdaTatsu crossover, I felt inspired to make some rambles for it:

I went on a tangent when I added to this omfg. KuroEne and IdaTatsu rambles. Everytime I write about my meow meow mf faves, out comes an essay. I can't even stop the urge omfg

KUROENE AS IDATATSU OMGGG

The ultimate crossover hehe

This is honestly really funny to think about

The thing is, is that all of my faves have this level of elegance and refinement and composure (except for Judar). Which is completely fine. It's not necessary to have but it's usually present in my faves

The difference between charas like Douman and Kuroha/Saeru, who are the most mature of my main faves (which makes sense since they’re ancient beings or at least originate/come from an ancient era) and Idate, is that, while Idate has adult-like mannerisms, he has a child-like sense of entitlement.

What makes Idate so dangerous is how quickly he can switch from cheerful to deadly, at the drop of a hat, basically. Idate has a level of refinement and composure in his usual mannerisms, like he tries to appear “dainty” and gentlemanly to Tatsumiya to impress her since she’s very soft.

But he’s less mature and refined/composed than Douman and Kuroha cuz he's like... dignified, but also a rough, "elegant delinquent," a mafia type, basically. Idate is playful and dangerous but with a childlike sense of entitlement. So Idate is more casual, less formal than the two of them .

Like Idate is so: "I want that!" (^-^)

Because he just purely goes off on instinct/emotion-based feelings. And how he just murders and eats people on a whim. He’s motivated by “interesting things,” and things that can challenge him.

Cuz Idate is basically an elegant “mafia esque” type delinquent

So it's just funny to think of Kuroha in Idate's role bullying other animals (or teasing in Ene's case)

It would also be interesting to

Especially since the WATGBS AU versions of Idate is even more cruel than the F*na-verse one.

Even more cruel, but actually well-written, unlike F*na LMAO.

100000x better written but it's not harder to write better than F*na

WATGBS AU: IdaTatsu

WATGBS AU Idate (written by me and friends) steals peoples' souls and drinks and drains people of their blood and eats them, to use them as a power source and add to his power by absorbing them as a form of dark energy, then throwing the rest of the souls to light up his space void hell-scape that’s lit up by the dead souls of all the people he’s ever eaten. He is extremely cruel.

Idate knows that he's evil with inner, dormant, negative tendencies and "unpleasant" personality traits but he just wholly dismisses it out of a sense of apathy. He doesn't care about his victims. He sees them as "toys," "playthings," "sustenance" for him. It very much has this sense of “Yes? I did that? I’m evil! Don’t you see I’m evil?” (^-^)

I do think that the 7 Deadly Sins are split between Idate (and his older brother) Takama’s characters in the WATGBS AU, but I think the Deadly Sin that Idate represents most is "Greed," because his character is all about the pursuit of pleasure and desire for more. Tho he also has an apathy to other people and their suffering

Tatsumiya's role as "Messenger of the Dragon Palace" seems similar to a shrine maiden's duties, so I guess Ene in this AU is like a shrine maiden or princess consort.

Kuroha acting with Idate's carefree and laidback delinquent esque behaviour is sooo funny to think about.

Kuroha and Douman have similarities in terms of their basics, actually, but there's a huge difference in that canon-verse Kuroha lacks the tenderness and vulnerabilities that Douman's character has.

Also this is soooo funny to think about, cuz canon-verse Kuroha would not like cigarettes.

But Idate does, as an animal, cuz his character (at least in our WATGBS AU) is about his selfishness cruelty and general lack of care and apathy to other peoples' suffering and (metaphorically) drowning in momentary pleasures and chasing highs, because the pleasure is "not enough" for him. He needs something/someone more than that, someone who can connect and understand him, for once

And that's why finding Tatsu is a miracle for him. He and his older twin brother Takama never knew soft love before meeting their wives, only survival and death 💀 Idate doesn't care about others except for a select few that he loves (as his wife, Tatsu later becomes apart of his family)

Combined with the traumas from their backstories (that we made up for them in our AU), they just completely lacked proper childhoods and spent their entire lives just trying to survive.

Kagerou Daze Manga

In the KagePro manga, Kuroha/Saeru looks over the city from a rooftop and comments about the “muddy dirt stained (polluted) sky” and “humans spreading their greed wherever they go.”

He asks Konoha if he agrees with him (after overtaking/possessing his body and suppressing his consciousness). Since they're both Eye Ability snakes born from Azami, he calls him 兄弟 (Kyoudai, "Brother; mate; friend")

(Kagerou Daze Manga: Ch. 62 - NO TITLE)

Kuroha: ...No wonder this world we made is so irksome.

Kuroha: This disgusting, glittering town...

Kuroha: This muddy, dirt-stained sky...

Kuroha: These people, spreading their greed wherever they go...

Kuroha: It's all so foolish...

Kuroha: ...And so lovely.

Kuroha: You agree, don't you...

Kuroha: ...My brother?

...

As someone who was there before the world was created, and observed the world from the very beginning and got to see it develop to the modern age, as a being who is close to Nature...

Like of course canon-verse Kuroha/Saeru would feel that way about pollution, as an animal (being who lived as apart of Nature, alongside Azami).

The KagePro manga art is weak and not dynamic imo but I appreciate that it exists since it gave us lots of interesting scenes, like Kuroha's backstory, and a bunch of cute little moments with the MekaDan.

An animal being who exists as someone closer to nature

Going on a tangent:

Kuroha seems to resent the world/mankind for changing the nature of his Master's wish, but claims to love humans (especially their foolishness).

Kuroha has a few base similarities with one of my FGO wives Koyanskaya (FGO), the "contradictory nature of loving while hating [humanity]" but the difference between them, is that he doesn't really hold as much of a vengeful grudge against humanity.

Kuroha wants to destroy the world to redo it all over again from the very beginning. But he's not really vengeful or serious about that hatred/grudge, as some of my FGO faves that want to destroy/exterminate humanity.

I got reminded of Koyanskaya specifically cuz like, as a Servant, she's a being who's a manifestation of a concept. She's a "Nature Spirit who's basically the incarnation of the thoughts and feelings of all animals who were persecuted by humanity," a being that "exists for revenge against humans" and "wishes for humanity's demise while loving them as beings apart of nature"

And even Koyanskaya is still "not as serious" (in her own words), about wanting to destroy humanity as others. She wants to witness humanity's destruction as entertainment, but wants to leave the actual extermination to someone else.

There's a line about Koyanskaya in the Tunguska Sanctuary event story in FGO (Koyanskaya's major story chapter focus) that's like "She wields the inventions and weapons of man better than man ever could" due to her Beast's Authority.

And that does remind me of Kuroha/Saeru. And how like... He wields both words (ie. weaponizing knowledge), and humanity's tools/inventions (ie. guns) as weapons.

Koyanskaya's entire concept and character is so peak imo. I find her incredibly interesting and compelling. One of my top fave FGO wives and femme characters easily.

Source:

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A Fate Inked in Blood spoiler free review.

Initial thoughts: 4.5 ⭐️

Sooo the beginning had me sucked in and giggling like a school girl. I was hooked page by page. The plot was interesting. Interesting characters and fun banter.

Then we got… say… 60% in and… it became really repetitive and honestly tiring just reading the same motions over and over. It made you want to beat up certain characters for how frustrating they could as well.

Then things took a dramatic turn about 90% in but they weren’t exactly surprising twists. There were enough hints that pointed to those answers if you were paying attention. Despite that, I was grateful for the reprieve in the plot and am once again excited with the direction it is headed in.

Don’t get me wrong though, this is a great read that is fun and engaging. But… perhaps instead of being simply great it could have been phenomenal. It was just shy of excelling due to that drop in momentum.

I hope the next book in the series excels in ways this one did not.