#i want to work on him outside of the game more expect art in the future

[juliuslavellan]

sharing a few screenshots of my Rook, still exploring his character that's why I haven't shared much of him.

Meet Rin Aldwir, a rouge dalish veil jumper who specialized as a Veil Ranger. I didn’t romance anyone but I loved all the companions as much as past games <3

[searchingforserendipity25]

felix knightly, julian's much-mentioned friend felix, comes to the station, and he's this dashing and effete and supremely successful older human man. he wears excellent fabrics and dedicates his life to constructing beautiful fictions.

he calls julian darling and sweetheart all the time. he speaks often of how they met - something about old hardcover books and competitive bidding in a san francisco auction house for history and literature lovers.

so it went: a long chat that turned to a long night haunting bars, showing this bright young thing the best old spots in the city, where real bands play real songs, history clings to the walls and a holoprogrammer could see nearly into the past, the future, the heart of things.

we walked the bridge with dawn on our shoulders, spent the night without losing reasons to keep talking together, and i knew this was a very special young man i had just befriended, he says.

and julian bashir, chief medical officer, war-tried and brave, looks at him through his lashes, a little bit twenty and awe-struck at being liked still.

felix speaks often about how so much of the reliable realism in his holonovels depends on having his own clever doctor to give him accurate medical information. how his gifts of custom-made programs are nothing, barely anything in comparison to the pleasure of making sweet julian enjoy himself in his intervals between wonderful adventures and admirable medical work.

he is flighty and shameless and self-satisfied and he never fails to make julian flush and brighten - something flickering open around his eyes.

he kisses the back of his hands, and plays with his hair. as if it easy and natural; as if he should be allowed always to lay a hand on julian's shoulder, and smile down at him with a conspiratorial look.

it would be easier, perhaps, if it were more sordid. but they tease each other endlessly, argue like old friends, there is history between them and not only old infatuation.

to watch him is to see an image repeated. there is the twist of the wrist doctor bashir does, the way he raises his chin and picks a glass with elegance and flirts relentlessly, as he himself had been flirted with until he relented.

it is clear enough that knightly has been a guiding figure to him, a teacher in some fashion in the arts of playing the gentleman.

a mildly chiding word from him in a specific tone, and julian straightens his back and pays attentions, rethinks his position, eases back the strain in his shoulders, lets himself be challenged, seduced into a proper debate. so perhaps he was the one who taught him that, too; to argue without spite, with wit, brash but not bull-headed.

it is clear enough julian bashir trusts him fully with his fantasies, and does not fear any mockery.

it is clear he is a weak man, a man of vice, an hedonist with no sense of responsibility, who cannot stand to live outside his programs. he drinks prodigiously and gambles recklessly, enjoys the sort of mind-whirling substances the federation permits only in careful dosages -

he is not the one to mention how it was that a medical student came to be well-versed in treating withdrawals, in dealing with hateful words said in dire states. doctor bashir himself, of course, would never breach patient confidentiality. but one may guess; one may assume.

his presence is temporary, he will go away to do research on another singular and distant place, he'll leave his friend behind for the hundredth time and send back a consolation game whenever he remembers he exists at all.

anyone can see it, in the doctor's eyes. he is has been wounded many times, he has been trained well to be expect to be liked but not wanted long.

in unrelated news, garak of garak's clothiers has had to cite complications to explain the delay of his present and forthcoming commissions. several of his needles and sewing machines have taken unexpected tumbles against the floor, and a remarkable amount of his fabric has appeared shredded to rags, almost as if a vole or beast of some sort had laid furious claws on them.

well, so it goes: life is not an holonovel. in real life, sometimes accidents can't be avoided, and mistakes have consequences.

someone ought to remind felix knightly of that, perhaps.

[raguiras]

What's this?! Spade of Storms is canon in the game now?! /j

Finally finished this Spade of Storms WIP from early June 😅 Click for better quality!

Reblogs are very appreciated ~

「 Bonus versions & ship ramble below the cut! 」

♤ More Deuce x Allen: ♤

SHIP INTRO: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4

OTHER ART: 1

Ship blog: @spade-of-storms

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

♤ Ship ramble ♤

There are many reasons why Allen and Deuce are perfect for each other (list), but a fair share of said reasons are rooted in or can be traced back to one massive, highly important core point: these two have extremely similar experiences in a reversed order.

Said experiences shaped their personalities, goals, insecurities and "masks" — all of which are highly important factors for Deuce and Allen's relationship development.

So today, I'll be talking about how their backstories influence Allen and Deuce's relationship.

Something I noticed is that if Spade of Storms weren't dating, they'd pretty much end up experiencing at least parts of each other's backstory... and end up in a super miserable state.

Allen is a former honor student who overworked himself to the point of burning out, all because he was a people pleaser and his stellar grades still weren't enough for his teachers who expected nothing but the absolute best from him. Additionally, he had to suppress his true self and interests because he was expected to be a model student in every single way, and anger was something only "bad" kids felt.

Sounds familiar? Deuce is unknowingly on the path to end up in the same situation, except in his case, the fact that he can't seem to achieve better grades no matter what causes him even more distress. If he actually ended up becoming a honor student, Deuce would experience a ton of additional pressure, not to mention that he's already struggling to hide the delinquent tendencies that are a fundamental part of his true personality... Sure, "honor student" sounds like a nice and admirable title to have — but the reality behind it is cruel, and Deuce isn't aware of that yet.

Which is why I gave him Allen.

A large part of Allen's trauma is rooted in his past as a honor student and the crushing expectations people (including himself) threw at him, and he desperately wants Deuce to watch out for himself and approach his goal of becoming a honor student carefully and logically rather than bite off more than he can chew and end up drowning in even more pressure, self-suppression and insecurities. Allen doesn't want Deuce to experience all the negative sides of being a honor student and instead supports the Heartslabyul student's goals by working towards them with a pace appropriate for Deuce, helping him study through actually unique methods specifically tailored for Deuce, and — most importantly — giving Deuce a safe and healthy environment where he can be his 100% authentic self and learn how to properly get his impulsiveness under control at the same time.

And the other way around? How does Deuce's past help Allen?

Deuce quit being a delinquent because it not only disappointed his mom, but also caused him a lot of trouble and massively stained his reputation. While Allen can handle his own delinquent tendencies just fine on the outside, his anger is actually much worse than Deuce's, not to mention that he has incredibly violent fantasies about the people he can't stand...

So far, Allen hasn't done anything bad. But Deuce, despite being a delinquent at heart himself, is able to calmly remind Allen to not do anything he might end up regretting or that might stain his reputation, especially since this is a major fear of Allen's. Deuce's worries and loving way manage to keep Allen in check, no matter how strong the Ramshackle student's hatred for society grows.

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎

Now, HOW exactly are they able to help each other grow? WHY did they form intimate levels of trust to begin with? And especially, why can Allen actually efficiently help Deuce in the first place when nobody else can?

All will be revealed in the next issue Spade of Storms explanation post >:)

[bullet-prooflove]

Summer School: Daniel LaRusso x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kiwiwatermelonsuger @sadgenderfluidmaniac @junghwansy2k 

Daniel meets you because of a summer arts program. Him and Amanda have been divorced over a year and they’ve been trying to figure out a way to prise Anthony away from his screen. It’s gotten worse since the split, his son has retreated entirely into the world of video games.  

Daniel can’t help but feel responsible for that. He was the one that told Amanda he was unhappy, the one that made her realise that she was unhappy too. In the beginning he thought maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut they could have persevered but time has given him clarity, they were friends more than lovers and Daniel, he wants passion, he wants romance. He deserves that and so does Amanda.

It's Amanda that finds the program, it allows students to try out different art forms over a six week period. Painting, pottery, metal work. Anthony protests at first but they present a united front, if he doesn’t attend he spends the entire summer without any screen time at all.

The first week Anthony complains relentlessly. Painting is very much not his thing and Daniel happens to agree, he’s all for self-expression but Anthony’s work, it’s beyond terrible.

The same goes for pottery, he comes home with a bowl that’s slanted to one side with weird, wonky edges. Daniel takes it into work and uses it to hold his paperclips.

By the time week three rolls around Daniel expects more of the same, he’s used to Anthony’s sullen moods, he’s been sulking ever since summer school started. Today however when he gets into Daniel’s car, it’s the most animated he’s seen him in years. His eyes are bright, he’s excited. He shows Daniel the motorcycle he’s made out of nuts bolts and wrenches and he’s completely blown away.

“Jak’s been giving me tips on making my own designs.” He tells his father proudly. “We need to hit the art supply store so I can get a sketch book and some pencils.”

That night Daniel calls Amanda after dinner.

“It’s like he’s a completely different kid. I don’t know who this Jak guy is but he’s worked wonders on him. He hasn’t looked at a screen all night.” He tells her as he watches Anthony sketching out design ideas on the kitchen table. “I feel like we should be gifting him a car.”

“Maybe we go smaller.” She says thoughtfully. “Start with some beers from that microbrewery you like. We don’t wanna scare him off by coming on a little too strong.”

“Yea I think I have a six pack somewhere, I’ll drop it off tomorrow morning.” Daniel murmurs, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck. “I’ll ask if he does classes outside of the summer school. I’d like to keep the momentum going.”

He drops Anthony off a little early the next morning so he can pop in and meet the man who has managed to engage his son. He has the six pack of mixed microbrews tucked under his arm when he raps his knuckles on the door and pokes his head inside.

“Hey, I’m looking for Jak.” He says to the woman sorting through the cardboard box of random metal bits and pieces.

“You’ve found her.” You say looking up from your task.

“You’re Jak?” He asks, his dark eyebrows raising as he drinks you in.

You are the furthest thing from metalwork artist that he ever expected. You’re breathtaking for starters, he means that literally, the oxygen catches in his throat when he looks at you.

“You were expecting a man.” You say in an amused tone before gesturing towards the box of beers. “Starting a little early.”

“Ah no.” Daniel says his cheeks colouring just a little as he sets them on the desk beside him. “They’re for you, a thank you for the work you’re doing with Anthony. It’s the first time I’ve seen him engaged with anything other than a video game since the divorce.”

He watches as you approach, his mouth going dry. There’s a sensuality to your movements, a gracefulness and it sends heat flushing through Daniel as he watches your fingertips caress the glass of each of the bottles as you study the flavours.

“A nice variation.” You say before slotting them back in the cardboard. “You’ve picked some of my favourites Mr LaRusso.”

“Danny.” He asserts and the edges of your mouth tip up into a smile.

Something blossoms in his chest and it feels like he’s seeing the sun rise for the very first time. This is what he was missing with Amanda, this passion, this fire.

“Ok Danny.” You say and he loves the way his name rolls off his lips. “What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to know if you do sessions like this after the summer? Anthony, he’s really excited about working with you. My ex-wife and I would really like to keep the momentum going if we can, make sure he has a creative outlet.” Danny tells you as you lean back against the desk.

“I run sessions out of my studio in Santa Monica. Each student works on their own project, they start with their own concept and then develop it, I’m there to show them the techniques, help them make it a reality and they take those skills into the next project.” You inform Danny as he settles beside you. Your perfume floods his senses, something floral with citrus notes, it reminds him of the first days of spring. “The stuff we’re learning in class this week is very basic and Anthony has taken to it really well. I think his interest in mechanics and the way things work definitely helps.”

“Mechanics?” Daniel repeats, crossing his arms over his chest. This is the first time he’s hearing anything about Anthony taking after him in that respect.

“Not the traditional concept like cars and engines, I mean more like cause and effect." You explain as you tuck your hands into the pockets of the cobalt blue blazer you’re wearing. “It’s why he’s so interested in games like Minecraft, he likes to see the effect that one thing has on another, kinda like Mousetrap. He’s trying to figure out how to make things move in his sculpture work.”

“I honestly had no idea he was into any of this stuff.” Daniel says rubbing his palm over the back of his neck.

“Kids don’t really share a lot with their parents at this age.” You reassure him before picking up a post it note and scribbling on it. “Why don’t you come by my studio, get a feel for what I do?”

You hand him the post it note and he studies the address, this thumb tracing lightly over the writing.

“I’ll do that.” He tells you as the bell rings, signalling the start of class. "I’ll try to stop by tonight.”

Love Danny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rosazoldyckk]

Yandere! Silva X Daughter Reader

⚠️warning⚠️ obsessive thoughts and mentions of death

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Silva Zoldyck, Zeno Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck, Milluki Zoldyck

A/N: I DO NOT INTEND FOR THIS CHAPTER TO HAVE ANY RELATIONS TO INCEST!! I'm aware that some things written in this chapter might be mistaken as incest, but I promise I don't intend to make it seem that way.

Of course you can interpret my writing however you want to, I have no issues with that. Just please know I don't write stuff related to incest♡︎♡︎

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ 1138 words *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*. *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*. *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*

"Didn't I tell you to stop killing these poor butlers, father? How do you expect us to be taken care of if you take your rage out on our servents?" The young Assassin grumbled while putting her hands on her hips. Suddenly, the whole estate went silent. However, the rest of the lower butlers blinked and gulped in hope.

At the edge of the room, the young assassin can be seen. Her long H/C hair that shined under the moonlight can put any woman to shame. Her E/C eyes that they inherited from her father were sharp yet adorable. It could not be denied that with her looks and god-given talent for assassination that the girl belonged to the Zoldyck family.

With their sudden appearance, Silva lowered his guard and relaxed. It could be seen by his face that he adored the presence of his dearest daughter. With a soft tone, he asked, "Y/N, dear, what are you doing here? I thought you were out of the house."

The Lower butlers secretly beg the assassin to spare them from their death. By doing this, not only do they have a higher chance to survive, but they could also continue to contribute in caring for the Head's most adored daughter, Y/N Zoldyck.

One with no common sense would simply assume that Y/N was the glass child of the Zoldyck family, but behind closed doors they couldn't be any more wrong. Y/N was the glue that kept the family together. She was known to be cruel, sadistic, and outstanding in the art of assassination. However, there were people such as her siblings that could see the other side of her. Most of the time, Y/N was a kind and calm individual outside of work. And today just so happened to be a day where she felt generous.

Y/N thought for a bit before shaking her head, "I thought I told you our agreement about killing butlers in the mansion. Their screams can be heard from my room. It would be better if you killed them quickly or just let them free," she sighed as she turned her eyes to the poor butlers that had been severely tortured by electric shock.

Silva on the other hand glared sharply. Although it was subtle, his eyes went smaller, and clenched his hand.

He hated it.

He hated it when HIS daughter ignored him for Illumi.

He despised it when HIS daughter left him alone to play with Kalluto.

He loathed it when HIS daughter was playing video games with Milluki.

He felt sick to his stomach whenever he witnessed HIS daughter braiding Alluka's hair.

He detested it when HIS daughter is 'playing' outside with Killua and his pathetic excuses of friends.

And oh dear god did he want to smash a boulder across his head whenever he saw HIS daughter laughing with her mother and grandfather.

Silva loved his only daughter to death. Every inch of his daughter belonged to him and ONLY him alone. He hated sharing with others, family only being a small exception. If he could, he would lock her in his room and make her look at him and ONLY him alone.

Knowing that the entire family would riot against him if he were to bring harm to the assassin, he buried that plan deep within his heart and continued to be a 'good dad' for her. He forgot the agreement and decided to play it funny so that his daughter could let this case pass.

"I apologize, dear," Silva grumbled with a fake frown. "Unfortunately, these foolish butlers failed their mission and their penalty is nothing but death. I thought it would be great to punish them first but I overlooked an important part,"

Y/N kept her mouth shut and looked at her father. Somehow, Her emotions had stirred up from her father's response. She knew that her father loved her the most out of her brothers. He would remember every word she had said and did not dare to break any promises. Sadly, although she had been feeling generous, today has been a tiring day for her and all she wanted is a good night's rest.

"Just let them free for my sake. I couldn't hear them screaming any longer! Do you know how much their screams had disturbed me from my sleep?! This is a simple agreement and somehow you can't even remember my words. I'm so disappointed in you," Y/N spat in tiredness. As soon as she said that, she quickly turned her back and jumped to her room which is located on the outer side of the fortress.

Silva hid his rage and waved to her daughter's back. "I hope you'll have a nice dream, my sweet Y/N"

Soon after Y/N left the room, the temperature dropped. The butlers shivered as the waited for another wave of electricity to shoot through their bodies, but nothing came. They glanced up at their boss, only to see him with an expressionless face.

Without another word, he allowed the ball of electricity growing on his hand to explode, killing the butlers in an instant. With his eyes full of tenderness, he took a deep breath of air.

"I'll make it up to you, my daughter..."

⁂✧⁂

Zeno sighed tirelessly as he observed his sons actions. "When will he stop with this obsessive behaviour? Those butlers did nothing except make sure Y/N was taken care of, and yet he still killed them? In all my years I've never seen Silva express such madness before."

Illumi sighed in helplessness to his grandfathers words, "Even I'm starting to get a bit bored now, As her beloved eldest brother I must make sure that she is on the path to success. Father doesn't need to get involved when she has me by her side at all times."

"You're right," Milluki replied in annoyance, "Though Y/N is next in line to head the family, seems like dad is a little too eager for her to stay by his side, am I right?" He grumbled as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

The 3 of them shared looks of confusion as Silva finally got up to exit his room.

All they could do is wait.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

I have always seen you

Salo x Lest

warning : kiss, hurt/comfort, drinking alcohol

Summary : He had been through all of Piltover's parties, knew every guest and had extensive connections. But he had seen such beautiful golden eyes and shiny fur before, but now that he was at a low point, he was ready to actually approach the pretty one instead of keeping quiet. Because a broken man had nothing left to lose and she wanted to make him better.

info : Thanks for the request @1v31182m5 the ship needs more works and art, it took me a while but i finally finished it, have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he had entered the room just a few weeks ago, he had been greeted warmly, almost idolized. Green eyes wallowing in appreciation, blond hair that matched the red and white suit, fabric of the highest quality, gold on his body more valuable than anything else. The wine in his goblet imported and appreciated by his guests and hosts alike, he was at the top of his game.

But the highly esteemed Council member Salo was alone wherever he went, a woman, no husband and no family by his side. He was alone and when the doors of his mansion closed he couldn't stop himself from shuddering when he met the silence, a silence that was interrupted by his dreams.

Golden eyes seemed to haunt him, a soft fur he could almost feel and a voice calling him...but then all this old life, luxurious as it was, was all a lie, a lie that was torn apart with an explosion and Salo saw the bitter painful truth for the first time.

Of the moment the broken building ceiling landed on his legs, his scream barely heard in the chaos, and he felt a fear that let him know his legs were useless, a fear that made him sick, a fear that let him know he was an outsider in a city of lies, falsehood and snootiness.

He was the living lie to the residents, no one cared about the sick, the broken from the moment he sat in the wheelchair to the moment he walked into a room he saw nothing but ignoring and rejection. Salo had lost his face.

Another sigh and clink of the goblet was heard as he ran his hand over his face, his thoughts trying to drown in wine as he saw the soft brush but felt nothing, no coldness or warmth.

Useless.

His green eyes even if tired and exhausted looked back at her, his interest on her, ,,They hate me you know, a sight at every party at every damn invitation I was the guest of honor...and now-now I'm nothing more than a shadow to be avoided” he said bitterly, clenching the goblet on the side table and wishing the glass had broken, just broken and taken him away.

His help only responded with a nod, she mostly just listened anyway, a few words though he enjoyed her voice, his hand moving to her cheek she pulled back almost startled.

Golden eyes different from his, fluffy ears twitching around and a short, ,,Don't...Salo” as she tried to brush again but her payer didn't hear, his fingertip passing over her ear and a smirk on his lips, ,,You're soft” he said with fascination.

A response she did not expect, she was ignored, not spoken to, she was paid for her art not for what she was, a reality she had long accepted but Salo remembered.

He knew her, had seen her, at all the parties he'd been to that were a little more “special” in the back rooms behind velvet curtains, the purple paint shimmering on the bodies of her clients, ,,I...know you Lest...you were involved in the lying parties like me,” he said, sitting up to look at her better.

Words that made her pause, the brush no longer wandering over his legs and golden eyes avoiding his, nothing sated and instead he reached for the bottle to fill his glass further.

But he got no answer, instead she gripped her paintbrush tighter and quickly, saying nothing, she circled the couch, ,,You can't leave!” he suddenly shouted, fear rising in him as he realized she was leaving him.

Dropping the cup, he tried unsuccessfully to reach for her hand and almost fell off the couch, ,,I'll be back tomorrow,” she assured him coolly, not looking at him or taking his hand, his door opened and closed...and Salo, Salo was left broken once again.

Crying, screaming, cursing, the wine bottle crashed to the floor and he saw his reflection in the dark drink.

A likeness that startled him - tousled hair, a light beard, tired eyes - he wasn't even the rich businessman Salo anymore, he was just a broken cripple.

A fact that made him even more desperate and he reached for another bottle, but the sight of Les and her softness didn't seem to leave him even in this state.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lest, on the other hand, did not dislike him, at first she had even taken a liking to his luxury at the parties when she talked to him, painting him more often than not. But he always drank too much for her to remember him properly until today.

Integrity was something she kept, no one stayed with her for long and it was better that way, so why did she cheat herself and come back to Salo?

They both knew that the shimmer didn't work, it could heal wounds that were life threatening yes but not body parts that were already lost and yet she came back every day, ,,You have no idea how close you are to me...Salo” she mumbled as she put the brush in her bag and set off after him again.

Salos surprise was surprising and yet not unpleasant, his demeanor understandable and his fear justified...perhaps it was that on the brink of war, kindred spirits find each other.

He saw her for what she was, considered her right and did not misappropriate her work and she, she appreciated him as a person and not as an outsider.

Maybe that was what made her open the door and her heart beat faster to take him in, ,,Leeest” she heard his voice, slurring and shuffling as he seemed to still be lying on the couch.

Almost stunned, she looked at him, he looked like a broken peacock with barely any pretty feathers left, ,,You've been drinking, raging and all with justification...but don't make yourself more unworthy than you are Salo” she replied and locked the door.

No one should see him like this, no one would understand as she set the bag down and reached for a cloth and garbage can, deftly picking up the shards of bottle and goblet and holding the cloth under water in the bathroom before wiping the dried wine from the table.

She returned the room to its former glory before turning to Salo, who had been mumbling something apologetic the whole time, ,,It's none of your business,” he said, his voice clear as glass for a moment as she sat down with him and held out a vial of shimmer for the pain of his drinking.

Lest suppressed a sigh when she saw that he was still lying here, not having slept properly, ,,It doesn't...but two party guests of a special kind get along better than the gold-drenched inhabitants of this city,” she said and he opened the vial and drank the contents.

Saw that it tasted sweet and bitter as he grimaced and sat up to avoid looking like a hunchback, she ran a damp cloth over his face, held him a mirror as he combed his hair and carefully trimmed his beard all while glances of green and gold met again and again.

,,I will pay you for this, even if you didn't have to, I thank you for still seeing me as Salo and not as the broken one,” he said with a bitter grin as he looked down at his legs and was about to hide his face in his hands when she grabbed his hand.

A touch she agreed with, a touch he felt, he saw her warmth and kindness, ,,Healing can sometimes come from deeper feelings, not from drugs or money. Sometimes it's enough to have someone, someone in the world who understands you better than anyone else,” she said, not letting go of him and drawing closer to her.

She placed his hand on her cheek, soft fur was brushed by cool fingers, green met gold and she gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

A kiss from someone who cherished him, loved him and saw him for who he was, there was no wrong time between them.

A kiss that became a real short intimate one and two people were united in a look of green gold.

Salo was seen and Lest was not overlooked, they were two who could heal each other in a world that could no longer offer them anything, they had each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[skyeslittlecorner]

Okay I know it's too too late now... but can we have some scenarios about the kings (maybe Lucifer and your fav nobles too pls) reactions when receiving Valentines gifts from MC plssss 🫶

Don't worry, anon! We're between Valentine's Day and White Day, so it's the perfect time for some romance~

This is my first time writing for Luci. I can't wait until we finally see him in the game and I can add him to the royal team permanently.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan doesn't pay much attention to such occasions, so when you approach him and give him chocolates, it's a surprise for him. Very nice one. It's actually obvious that you chose him, after all, he is your boyfriend a demon with whom you signed a contract. Get ready for a deep kiss of thanks and to be pampered even more than usual throughout the day. You will feel his true gratitude at night, where thanks to his excellent mood you may even try to gain some dominance.

Mammon is curious about where you're taking him, why he has to keep his eyes closed, and what that mysterious gift you mentioned is. When you take off his blindfold and he sees the chocolate fountain in front of him, he bursts into laughter. What generosity! He will take you in his arms so you can dip your fingers at the very top of the fountain. Of course, you won't try it yourself, and he will gladly lick the chocolate running down your arm.

Beelzebub examines the strange chocolate you prepared for him. It seems fragile on the outside, but inside it is full of a thick cocoa, liquid mass. A half-smile appears on his lips. Did you do it on purpose? He already knows how he wants to try it. You will be dragged to the nearby club. Beel will lay you on the table, break the chocolate and pour the cocoa mass on your cleavage. He refuses to taste it any other way than from your body.

Leviathan was expecting to get something from you, so he becomes more irritated as time passes. When you finally come in the evening, he looks like he's about to hang someone. Only when you explain to him that you had to finish your chocolates and show him the tiny works of art wrapped in fancy paper you will be spared. Paper with roses… were you and Barbatos wrapping them? Bingo, he has a prey to hang. He'll try one, but you can't tell from his face if he likes it. And as punishment for coming so late, you have to spend your entire night in his coffin.

Lucifer is a devil who is hard to read, but you feel like you saw him smiling under his breath. He just connected the facts. So that's why you came to him yesterday with a burnt hand? Were you careless when making him a gift? He will thank you and kiss the poor fingers that sacrificed itself for him. On the one hand, he would rather you not hurt yourself and be more careful. On the other hand, your eyes sparkled with tears so beautifully when you came to him asking for help... If you really want to make him happy, be like that again.

You invited Sitri into the kitchen to help you prepare chocolates for the others, so he knows exactly what you're planning. But he didn't expect he'd get some himself. When you hand him the hand-wrapped tea biscuits, he looks completely moved. Of course, now you both have to try them out. You will spend a lovely evening drinking tea, just the two of you, in the palace garden (sometimes disturbed by explosions from somewhere in the city).

Amon has an expression like a surprised pikachu, but a hundred times cuter. How so? Is this for him? Chocolates you made yourself? No one had ever done something so intimate for him. He will be touched both because you chose him and because he will remember how Beelzebub gave him a cookie and saved his life. Prepare for tears and feeding each other.

At first, Andrealphus doesn't understand why you put a cardboard box in his hands, and what does this have to do with Valentine's Day. He knows that lovers and friends exchange chocolates on this day, but he himself never did it. A whole life spent alone is not conducive to cultivating such customs. He will smile warmly hearing your stressed gibberish, and tell you to relax. It will be difficult to go to a café together without spreading panic, but what about going for a walk?

PS. If you would like more Valentine's Day headcanons, let me recommend @sulumuns-dootah works! They are wonderful. Here is a link to Gehenna demons, but there are more, check it out~

[asksythe]

Soooo cute!!! Look how happy he is! And those things on Ritsuka are tiny bunny ears. Hah!

Commed art. Artist: Minh Nguyett

This piece is a companion to this other piece I posted before.

Ahh... I want to write a bunny!Ritsuka x Oberon story...

You know how once upon a time, a character being secretly some kind of magical creature or fantastical race was all the rage in fanfic writing?

I want to write something like that.

But how would that work with the game's presented canon of Ritsuka being the representative of humans / primates and being their Last Master?

Well, it's simple. Chinese folklores are chockful of creatures who toil for centuries and absorb the breath of the world (or, in Fate terms, mana) to transcend their beasthood and become... a human!

And since I think bunnies are tote cute, I want to write Ritsuka (F) as a young bunny from a den of already fairy magical bunnies, becoming a beloved pet to lonely, sickly-child Ritsuka (M) and through this shared friendship, she learns of all the wonderful things about being a human.

Ritsuka (F) adores Ritsuka (M) and so decides to embark on the long journey of cultivating to become a human and be his human friend.

Before she can complete her human transformation (curse those stubborn bunny ears and fluff tail that won't recede no matter what she does! How can Ritsuka be a real girl if she goes around with her bunny ears and tail still intact!?) and surprise her friend, he, unfortunately, passes away, leaving behind his dream of stepping foot outside his house for once and taking this parttime job with some company called CHALDEA!

So, in honor of her beloved friend, Bunny!Ritsuka takes up the mantle and the name Ritsuka and joins Chaldea in his stead, determined to do everything that Ritsuka (M) wanted to do in his name. But there's more to being a human than just having a human body (most of the time. She's still working on them ears and tail). Humans don't think like bunnies do, nor live like bunnies do. They have all kinds of weird, unspoken rules and expectations and silly limitations on what a young girl bun can and cannot do. Bunri has a lot to learn!

Of course, the story is Obegudako.

I really just want to write a scenario in which Bunri attempts a bunny mating dance with a clueless Oberon and her happily declaring to him that she would like to bear him one hundred kits or something.

This story shall be titled...

... Ritsuka-Chan wants to be a human!

Hmm... but what's the offspring of a magical Bunny-turned-human and a part-dragon-part-insect-part-fairy terminal device?

A Bunny Dragon? A Hopping Insect? A fae bunny dragonfly?

I know!

Their children are going to be the Rabbit of Caerbannog!

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂 AO3 link

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when he’s smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

ETA: now with another art piece by @olliveolly

[buwheal]

[You've Got Mail!]

You can now send your favorite salesman emails!! YAY!!

Here's some rules and information about the askbox.

First and foremost;

I will not answer every single ask. Sometimes I just cant do anything with it that will work realistically with the perimeters of the world, and I apologize!! Its nothing against you guys!!

(Unless you break the rules ofc.)

So if you dont see yours after a long while, it’s probably something that wont work, sorry! You can always send it again for a second try or send more than one ask whenever and see if that one works instead!

Besides that, here’s the rest of what you need to know!

[RULES] :

Spamton can only talk through the computer, so dont send asks that have a physical interaction!! Sorry! Thats just how i decided to set up the world/situation, and is not really anything against you guys :-)

(more of a request than a rule tbh) Preferably try to send real questions or statements. most "joke" asks are funny, but are surprisingly hard to create an in character response for. You can still send joke asks if you really want to, just dont always expect an answer X-P (i.e. asks that contain nonsense,, you can still be funny and make regular jokes, and i should probably specify that, but things that are like "you look like a worm" or smth i have no clue what to do with lol)

I know he may be a personification of spam emails... BUT DONT SPAM!!! It clogs the askbox and is a real pain!! You can send him more than one ask, though, as long as you arent repetitively sending a ton in a short burst!! Send as many as you'd like as long as they dont qualify as spam.

Dont be overly sexual or romantic, please! Even "As a joke". I dont like Spamton like that and it makes me uncomfortable, and I can't really answer that in character in a way that wouldnt provoke more of that. (You can be a flirt, but not much more than that.) Thank you!!

Be respectful and patient!! I am just one person doing everything, and this got far more popular than anticipated, so i will take a long time. I try my best to get at least one out every other day but i'll need breaks eventually!!!

I cannot give/spawn/materialize things for/to Spamton if you ask because of the way it’s set up. You are really just lines of text from a computer to Spamton, BUT... You can still do a lot if you think outside the box. or,, errr,, outside the computer. More like IN the computer. Kind of. Your words and your actions affect him and his reactions to you, so word it correctly and you can get him to do something or say something. Hes not stupid though, and he CAN usually tell when your intentions are... less.. than good.

Try not to do RP as other characters please.(Thats my job…!) I literally have no idea what to do with them and i feel bad leaving them in there :frown:

[INFORMATION] :

(Optional read :-P )

[YGM!] is technically an AU!!! not only do the events of the game not occur, but this is also set before then!

Asks are put out one a day, regardless if i have more than one, UNLESS i need to connect two(or more) to complete one event. Or i feel like it. a little treat.

I am one person doing every ask and every unique frame of art, so expect 1 ask (If youre lucky, two) maybe every other day Monday-Friday depending on my workload per day.

This is just for fun!! I am using the askbox to exercise my drawing consistency, Spamton's personality, and the way he speaks and responds to different situations! This is a way I am using to improve my understanding of him as a character, so it wont be always consistent as I am growing and learning!

Just a little disclaimer, he WILL be mean. He is a sour, nasty, grumpy, bastard and I am absolutely not opposed to him responding as such. Just keep that in mind when sending an ask if you dont want that!

If you want a common outcome, talk to other people about it! go crazy! I dont mind long threads on my posts if you want to create a plan. Infact, I can even help and tell you things occasionally!!

What you say to him DOES and WILL affect the way he responds. It is possible to regain his trust, but still a little hard. He is not a trusting person to begin with and being mean certainly doesnt help. BUT.. I am not opposed to being mean. Infact, they are quite fun to do. Either way is entertaining for me, so do as you will. YOU can choose to hurt or help him, because it’s basically always reversible in a way.

Using tone tags, while not required, are really helpful and assist me in understanding the intention in your ask if you think it may be interpreted another way! (i.e. sarcasm) :-)!!

I pick and choose asks depending on his situation, or if i have a good idea for a response, so you may need to wait a bit before i can get to yours!! Ones that i have an idea for take priority, especially when its to progress a scene. Or, alternatively, i am saving your ask for something i have planned.

I WILL reuse frames and poses to get these out faster and for my convienence :-) especially for the frames where there is no need to change his pose! So like.. dont think too hard about it lol.

Also, i prefer if you specify if the ask is for me /or/ Spamton. I do still do normal asks!! If its for me, just let me know!! I can usually tell, but most asks will be interpreted as for Spamton. I appreciate ones that start with his name before said thing is asked/stated specifically!! (i.e. "Spamton, __ __ __")

I wont be consistent with the way its answered. Sometimes it's one panel, sometimes its a couple panels, or sometimes they're animated gifs!! It varies depending on what i feel, so if youre lucky you can get a gif, lol. Those take longer usually though. Ive mostly switched to a gif format rather than multiple panels in a comic style, because its much easier to view! The animation quality can vary :-)

Thats about it!! Have fun!! ^_^

[shinystealingbirb]

Some thoughts on Yanqing

I don’t quite know how or if Yanqing was shown in Honkai Impact, but I’d like to talk about my understanding of him.

Biiiiiiig cut.

I assume many think he’s a flat character. He’s a child prodigy who arrogantly took on two immortals leagues more powerful than himself, and couldn’t get over his loss. Right? Who went out seeking some strange person, who Jingliu almost treats like an amusing pet, who tried to shortcut his way to total mastery. Who desires a title of a championship rather than the art itself. That’s the mark of a flat character- no displayed motivation, and traits we’re told, rather than shown, exist.

This is what the game explicitly tells us. In fact, it takes pains to push this narrative, and in my opinion, it’s specifically because he’s never in our party. To Stelle, or Caelus, or whoever you play as, Yanqing will always be on the other side. He faced Dan Heng and Blade, who we controlled. He duelled Stelle and Kafka. Faced us under the voluntary control of a heliobi. The only time we control him is when Yanqing battles Jingliu, and even then, he was canonically alone. To the Trailblazer, he is a child. An irritatingly strong one, but a child nonetheless, ultimately a footnote in their journey.

So that’s what the game says. But I want to talk about what the game doesn’t really put out there as much, but becomes more obvious the more we encounter Yanqing.

It’s a little hard to explain- I got a kick in the balls when I went through the Fyxstroll Garden quests and got to Yanqing, but I’ll explain that in a moment. For now, allow me to begin with a brief explanation of his character in the way I see it, rather than what the game has taken pains to show us.

He’s a winner- all he’s done is win, and he is young. It’s all he’s known, training and success. He’s showered with praise that he easily tires of, and the General is the only one he spars with that consistently defeats him. This praise is the expectation, the norm. You must win can be a hell of a motivator.

So when he loses to Dan Heng and Blade, it rocks his fucking world. He had no idea where he was in terms of power- really, the only thing he had to compare himself to was Jing Yuan, and the gap there is enormous. He got a taste of a true life-or-death scenario, as opposed to the competition he’s accustomed to, and according to the heliobus, the two immortals- who are way out of his league- left him teetering on the brink of death.

In an attempt to discover his prowess, something outside of the meaningless praise and predictable spars with Jing Yuan, he was absolutely ripped apart by an undead Hunter and a reborn Elder. The worst part? The heliobus in the Fyxstroll quest says he would’ve died “if the hunter’s blade pierced him,” which could quite possibly mean Blade was holding back. Given he was in a rush to beat the shit out of Dan Heng, I doubt it, but it is a possibility that would add salt to the wound- being defeated without being cut once by Blade, only using the flat side of his sword to almost kill him?

So he’s aching from that loss. He got fucked up and knows exactly where he stands, and that’s the single greatest defeat he’s suffered in his life.

For some children, for those who began or became skilled, who build and build and gather ourselves, trying to fight good to become great, a fear we have to overcome is failure. And failure is the single more horrifying concept to a gifted child, the absolute worst outcome.

A normal person fails. Oh well. Time to move on with life.

A competitive or gifted child fails, it means something. It means the effort put in, every single move spent in our lives, every thought, every moment of practice or rest, even if not working on that skill specifically, was a waste of a life, and as failures, that child, too, is a waste. Failure is like death. The way I can best describe the feeling… your heart clenches. Cold sweat, a sudden mental blank. A spider crawls up your throat, and with every step your throat grows tighter, the sense of dread closer and closer until the spider has made its way up to your stinging nose, your tearing eyes, and you are humiliating yourself with those tears.

It’s hard for people who do not understand this to be empathetic. To these people, a loss like this is just a loss. Things like “you’ll get them next time” or “they were out of your league” are said, and these things will never be consolations.

We, the Trailblazers, do not understand why Yanqing goes back to it in his thoughts so often, why it is a pivotal moment for him, why it appears in his character lines, and why he speaks about that battle so ruefully. It was inevitable, we think, that he would lose, isn’t it?

Shouldn’t he know he would never have beaten him?

Of course he knows.

But Yanqing is a child. For all his power, all his cheer and skill, he is a child. He’s gifted, and loss stings really fucking bad if you’re gifted, if you’ve won and won and already realized that praise is false and results are king (his trace voiceline sounds so sarcastic when he speaks of praise.)

Now: we can go over Jingliu and Stelle’s battles if you wish- more salt in the wound, to twist the knife just a little more(loser, loser, loser)- but by far our most interesting encounter with Yanqing is in the Fyxstroll Garden quest.

He’s possessed by a heliobi who claims- and delivers- that he can teach any weapon and advance the soldier to a warrior beyond compare. Despite the memory-wiping effects of the heliobi after possession, I believe said possession- at least for this one- is voluntary.

After all these losses, Yanqing finds a spirit who pushed a Cloud Knight into something lethal, and the spirit tells him, “I have seen your losses, I see them inside your head. Offer me your sword; offer me your allegiance, your body, and I will make you great.”

Knowing he was almost killed for his naivety, knowing he has been painted as the enemy, knowing he has won and won for his entire gifted life, right up until he hasn’t… why do you think he takes it? Of course he’s desperate, of course there’s a nagging doubt, a painful needling that tells him hes not enough anymore, nothing is enough. Of course he allowed himself to be possessed.

After all, praise is empty. Results are king.

The real kicker comes when Jing Yuan gets there.

I think Jing Yuan’s reaction to Yanqing’s possession says a lot. He’s not surprised it was him, nor how easy it was to get into his head. He knows these things, understands they are part of growth and motivation. He is only disappointed because Yanqing has allowed himself to cheat, to find the shortcut.

He arrives at the island, and so calmly he says “Yanqing would never lift his sword against me.”

Yanqing raises his blade. And then he turns to the heliobi and demands a duel. He proceeds to rip the false Yanqing apart with all the speed and precision that Blade and Dan Heng dueled him with.

I’ve seen people talk about how Yanqing was put in a loaded situation. That his choice was made based on disappointing one teacher over the other. It’s not an unreasonable claim, but a shallow one, i based on the surface teacher-student dynamic and taking nothing the heliobi or Yanqing said into account.

It comes down to the choices he has: in that example, his choices are loyalty to a heliobi he only just met, or a teacher he’s known since he was a little kid. In this perspective, the choice is obvious.

This one is not an incorrect perspective, merely an incomplete one. I think the complete choice was as follows: Instant power from an unpredictable, harsh master, one who is asking strange things of him- attack your friends, attack your previous master, don’t you want power?!- or turn back to the training he feels he’s outgrown, mentored by a man who he holds in such high regard and, if his voice lines are any indication, would trust with his life in an instant.

He’s braver than I am for choosing Jing Yuan’s side. Yanqing’s been shown to have an honorable teacher, but we have not seen him put in a situation where he has to prove it. We couldn’t confidently say what he’d do.

This quest displayed his desperate side. The heliobi had already exploited it, promised and delivered power. The heliobi proved it could be trusted, for that at least. Jing Yuan is a trusted mentor, almost a father figure, but those methods led to failure at the most critical of times. This undoubtedly crossed his mind- it certainly crossed mine as I played through that quest- and I genuinely thought I’d have to fight him again.

Frankly, I’m astounded he chose Jing Yuan, and that surprise made, at least to me, made him feel complete.

Yanqing is a child, with a child’s complex emotions and weaker understanding. He is cheerful and confident, a trait easily confused with arrogance. He is competitive. His worth is based on his prowess with a sword. He knows praise is empty and results are king. He is desperate, but more than that he is loyal beyond his own desires, honorable to a fault, which is more than I could say about most adults, much less myself.

He’s flawed and requires a certain prerequisite to understand. Yanqing feels childish in a different way than Hook and Clara, in motivations rather than actions. He feels human, and I really like his character

[httpvomitello]

heeeeey girl or boy idkn sorry ahaha, I would like the idea or the reaction of bay tmnt or rise or both of them that splinter has a man partner, that they have a new cool dad that contrasts splinter's attitude

Hello! I'm a girl 😊. Anyways ~ i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

The Cool Dad *⁠.⁠✧

Leo doesn’t immediately warm up to the idea

He’s used to Splinter’s disciplined ways, so this easygoing, “normal” guy feels a little out of place

Leo observes quietly, unsure what to make of him

Over time, Leo realizes he’s just here to be supportive and present, with no agenda or hidden teachings

Leo starts to appreciate the simplicity of it; it’s nice to have someone around who just wants to listen, chat, and occasionally tell him that he’s doing great without expecting anything in return

The new dad shows Leo that it’s okay to just be, to hang out and relax without constantly pushing himself to improve

Leo finds himself loosening up, realizing that even a little downtime has its own kind of value.

Raph clicks with him almost immediately

He’s the first adult figure who doesn’t seem fazed by Raph’s attitude or rough edges

Instead, he laughs it off, treating with a level of casual respect that Raph instantly appreciates

He’s not there to discipline or shape Raph’s attitude, he just encourages Raph to be himself

Raph’s never had someone outside the family who gets him so well

If Raph’s training or punching a heavy bag, he’ll be there cheering him on or even helping, ir just talking

The casual bond they share makes Raph feel seen and appreciated, maybe even more understood than he is by his own brothers.

Donnie’s intrigued but unsure of what to expect

When he realizes this guy doesn’t know anything about ninjutsu or science, he’s both a little relieved and curious to see what he’s all about

He quickly finds that Splinter’s partner has a surprising amount of curiosity and interest in Donnie’s work, even if he doesn’t understand it all

He encourages Donnie to share his projects, hyping him up even if he’s clueless about the details

Donnie isn’t used to having someone cheer him on with no questions asked

The support is genuine, and he starts feeling more confident in himself

It’s refreshing for him to have a cool dad who just thinks everything he does is awesome.

Mikey absolutely loves him right from the start

He’s fun, engaging, and doesn’t shy away from Mikey’s goofiness

In fact, he joins right in, making Mikey feel totally accepted

They quickly develop a bond over movies, snacks, and games

Mikey finally has someone who’ll watch every cheesy movie and try his new recipes without a second thought

They share inside jokes, and Mikey feels like he has a buddy who genuinely gets his vibe

He hypes up Mikey’s art, jokes, and wild ideas

For Mikey, who’s used to being the “baby” of the family, it feels amazing to have someone who lets him shine without teasing him, boosting his confidence in all the right ways.

[aquato-family-circus]

Interns & Teachers hcs best to worst

Morris obvs we know doesn't wanna trade his mentorship with Milla so they must get along well, or at least he thinks so! I think he really respects and admires her, and wants to impress her. Milla on her part is textually a very good teacher and caregiver so she probably has given Morris a lot to work with to grow and improve. Maybe Morris was even more of a rascal and trouble maker before we met him and Milla taught him to at least put that energy toward something productive. Like Pirate Radio!

I don't USUALLY like going to extra material for things I think are true but the art book says Adam is senior to the other interns which I think implies he actually has spent plenty of time with Truman, rather than the impression the game gives of "none at all hes in a coma, lol".

That being said I imagine their mentorship is on a very professional feeling level. they get along and maybe Truman even tries to be friendly and casual with the boy, but Adam is super focused on being a good student and working on his big historical project. After the mole incicent though maybe he loosens up! He nearly lost the chance to talk to his mentor ever again after all.

Gisu and Otto are super duper casual in contrast to Adam and Truman. Gisu skateboards into his lab, yells WHATS UP TEACH! Otto says something abt his latest project before throwing a wrench at Gisu who catches it mid sick skate flip because Otto just expects her to help with said project in exchange to credits + not having to do homework for a week. They barely talk outside of this bc the agreement is not spoken and just based on vibes and knowing winks.

After the games I think Lizzie swings back to Compton's and he gives her a stern look and a raised eyebrow like you didn't do my assignment? and Lizzies like dude I tried man. and she thinks shes gonna get a lecture but instead Compton's like I'm sorry about that, let's start over, and then they play chess and he wins 3 times in a row. He learns Lizzie likes "weird" and "ugly" animals like bugs and rats and he makes some new assignment about just observing them in the wild, maybe try to talk to them if she can! and reporting back to him. Lizzie still thinks thisis a bit lame but at least she doesnt have to set up a Goat Trap so its an improvement

Sam learns what Coach did at camp and she doesn't do anything actively malicious but she does give him horrible stink eye for like a week. afterwards they go back to getting along surprisingly well aside from all the times Sam says some shit that sounds oddly like a threat but it goes over Oleander's head like half the time.

If Adam and Truman are a good professional vibe, Norma and Hollis are a bit of a stinky professional vibe. Hollis obviously thinks shes a capable young girl, she did let her teach class while she was off meditating about bills. But Norma wants so much more than that and tries so so so hard to impress her even though she ALSO thinks her homework assignment is boring and childish. She goes to Hollis' office like I want a different assignment, with the unspoken want "do not treat her like a child". and Hollis is like oh ok do you want to learn some advanced techniques that come from reading this big dry book of theory as big as your head. and Norma is like well, no. and Hollis is like ok then do your assignment very neutrally and Norma leaves thinking SHE HATES ME!!! bc I think Norma probably has. bad responses to rejection.

Hopefully Norma improves over time though bc I think! I think Hollis could possibly see a lot of potential in her!! She might even see a girl who's impatient, prone to rash decisions, and wants to prove herself so badly, and see herself in her. which is something that's only just occured to me but i enjoy the idea a lot so thats where I'll end this.

[dookins]

UPDATE:

Well, a few things have happened:

1., I decided to participate in Art Fight (dookins), despite it being so late in the game. I’ve always wanted to, and it’s very slow going, but I wanted to share what I’ve been working on.

2., I’ve been working SO HARD on my character designs for the upcoming Cowboy Robots Rewrite! And although his full reference isn’t yet complete, I’d like to introduce P03’s replacement…

DAL-S

Get it? DAL-S? Dallas?? Ahh??? Yeah???

Anyway, from picking the right monitor, color pallet, even the name has all been a process but I’m VERY happy with where he’s landed. As an homage to P03, I’m keeping the little pointy lip.

I can’t wait to share everything about him! And of course introduce Ram’s replacement as well. That’s been a longer process, but I’m also happy where it’s going.

3., Cooking up things for my Etsy store and engaging in the TV headed community! It speaks for itself, but I’m hoping to expand my familiarity to some crowds and start selling multiple things outside of just P03 stuff on my shop…. And maybe more P03 stuff too >u>

4., Worst hurdle yet, I got fired from a job Ive been working for three years. Happened yesterday, and I feel incredibly raw about it. The job market is stupid competitive , and thankfully my husband is helping to support me. It also takes away the ease of access I had to ship out all the orders for my store. Things like access to bubble mailers, printing, tape, cardboards, and USPS delivery trucks coming straight to me are now all things I need to pay for out of my own pocket. But in the meantime, if anyone has any cheap recommendations, let me know!

Anyway, thats all apart of the update for now. Expect more P03 things, and some new things as well! Than you so much for those who’ve supported me so far!! It’s really so soul nourishing and I couldn’t be more grateful 💕

[kissesfromnovalie]

rhys

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@writingsbychlo

Home To Us

rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

How To Save A Life

trapped under the mountain, starfall has always been your favorite holiday and you miss it. tonight, this time, you have one opportunity to share it with someone.

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@azsazz

Dioxazine (2)

While at the art shop looking for the necessary supplies for your first semester of art school, you get a bit distracted by the cocky cashiers intriguing eye color.

Lavender Haze

Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

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@ughthatimagineblog

love and loathing

forever and a day

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@fanttasttica

I hate you more..

Rhysand always knew how to get on your nerves. He was so good at it, that at some point, you started hating him for it., or as you thought. But as we all know, there is a thin line between hate and love..

Shy Priestess

You were shy priestess working in the Library in Velaris who became friends with Morrigan. One day, she decided to became matchmaker and you became her first client.

Your love healed me

You were friends with Rhysand and his Inner circle for nearly a hundred years. He trusted you with paperwork, he discussed ideas with you that he wasn't sure if they were good or bad.. You took your work very seriously and put it before everything else, even before your own safety. When Amartantha invites Rhysand and other High lords to her court, you manage to convince Rhysand to take you with him. That night, you end up being imprisoned for nearly fifty years and after you were freed.. The consequences of all this fell on you.

One plus one makes three

After your one night stand with the High lord, you hadn't expected to see him ever again, but fate had other plans. You are pregnant, carrying the High lord's first child and you need to tell him. How is he going to react? And what will that mean for you?

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@azrielslightintheshadows

Between you and danger.

Game night disaster

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Star Crossed

rhysand is your competition as prythian university’s top student, meaning neither of you can stand one another. however, once he discovers your passion outside of school, you slowly begin opening up to rhysand and his best friends.

@lyssasdrafts

To the stars who listen

Looking upon the stars for the first time since leaving the mountain, Rhysand makes a wish. Only to be surprised when his dreams are actually answered.

@milswrites

Not As It Seems

to outsiders they see your life is perfect. Being mated to one of the most powerful high lords and named high lady of the night court everyone thought you were happy (including your mate). What happens when the mask you’ve been wearing finally falls

@marvelsmylife

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.

@historiaxvanserra

The Great War

Rhysand has been running himself ragged, and it hasn’t escaped your notice. In an effort to quell old nightmares, Rhysand has an interesting suggestion…

@wishfulwithwine

Anything, Always

@cherhys

Touch in the Dark

@k-daydreams

Pining

@jeannineee

I Never Meant to Hurt You

@fieldofdaisiies

Returning Home

@hellcat8908

'Til Death

@bookish-whore

Take Them All Down

@danikamariewrites

Truth

When rumors and doubt creep in, High Lord Rhysand snuffs it out

@redheadspark

Black Rose

The fateful night in the Spring Court as told by Tamlin’s younger sister, Niamh. 

@starstruckunknown

Kicking out

Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

@luxsky

Testing the Waters

Weeks of rubbing up on a certain High Lord is bound to build some tension.

@solbaby7

A Dance With Danger

Learning the High Lord's secret has you on the run. Too bad he found you in the place you least expected

@readychilledwine

Desk Pet (2) (3)

@tadpolesonalgae

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Rhys enjoys a slow, easy morning with his love.

@leafsandstarlight

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I loove the whole vibe of the 'Bucky is just trying to make some eggs' ask and it got me thinking what if Buck was trying to torture Steve even more and agreed to 'just the tip' only. Only to learn that he himself can't resist to chase that fullness, that thickness, shimmering and undulating his hips more and more, needing something to touch his sweet spot, fill him fully. Pulling at his nipples and suckling at Steve's fingers, moaning like the whore he is.

Steve of course being all smug about it, trying to hold back to see how desperate and slutty can Bucky get, but in the end failing miserably.

Btw I love your work so much S, your blog is certainly one of the best on the whole Tumblr! Sending hug.

related to this

Thank you so much, I'm honored that you think so!

Now, here we go 😏

Bucky was--emphasis on was--on his way out of the fucking door right when Steve came tumbling out of their office-turned-into-Steve's-art-studio. Of course. What else could Bucky expect other than his own impeccably bad timing? Because Steve had been in there for hours, doing God knows what, wrapped up in the sweeping arms of creation, making him forget everything but the act itself. His big, buff artist boyfriend should be coming out for food and water and a bathroom break. But Bucky knew just by the way Steve's eyes scanned the room that it was not one of those primal needs he was looking to sate. Steve's body doesn't turn languid and syrupy with the lust for water or the pressing urge to piss and his eyes don't fill with hunger like that for food. Nah.

And so, fine, maybe underneath the mental complaints Bucky's dick had twitched at the thought of being just as important to Steve as those needs to live, maybe more important even--the ever-present, nuclear, serum-powered need to stuff his dick into a nice, hot, tight hole--sue him.

Buuuut he has things to do. He's not like Steve. Definitely not. When his dick calls, he doesn't have to pick up the phone every time. He, sometimes, even has the strength to slam down the phone and hang up (somewhere in there there's a pun about leaving himself hanging and being hung). So, he huffed and rolled his eyes and pretended to not want Steve's hands on him. He was already dressed with his feet shoved into his boots. He doesn't have the time for dick right now, batting those insistent, dinner-plate palms away. S'what he deserves, a little lovey slapping 'cause he's an annoying, buzzing fly insisting on circling Bucky when there's literally so much space in the apartment for him to fly around.

Ugh.

Again. But. Because Steve knows just where to grab and press and tug at him, aligning their bodies from tip to tail, his thigh hot and big between Bucky's legs, Bucky's back pressed against the inside of their front door... he crumbled.

Not his proudest moment.

"Just the fuckin' tip," Bucky growls, already not meaning it. If Steve wants to be pushy, though, Bucky's allowed to hit back. Give and take. That's a relationship. This is what they do. They play games. They've been together their whole entire lives, they're allowed to invent new, snarky ways to fuck with each other.

Unpressured and unsurprised, Steve laughs at him.

And Bucky may have been joking before but, oh, oh no. He won't have that. Steve is gonna eat shit. He will. Steve might seem more competitive and stubborn from the outside, but that's because he's a donkey. Bucky is a horse by comparison. Similar but also nowhere near as widely known for being an ass.

"I fucking mean it," Bucky fists that dangerously blonde head of hair, pulling at it until his neck arches so they're eye-to-eye rather than offset with Bucky staring into space, vision blurry, eyelids heavy, as Steve's hot, wet, red lips attach to his collarbone, sucking and gnawing at him like a dog with a new bone. Toying with him. "Just the tip," he repeats himself, steeling his voice the best he can when he feels anything but. Well. His dick is steel, but the rest of him is about as resistant as a twist tie between someone's fingers. "Get off and lemme go," he goes on, "I got shit to do, Rogers. Be quick. Y'know, you're usual M.O."

Steve, surprisingly, doesn't complain too much or shove back at him, getting off on how they can talk shit. It's just, "you say the sweetest things, Buck." He can't be too offended, though, because he's using those mits to shove his pants and underwear down and spread his cheeks to check and--"still wet from this morning, hmm?" He's pleased with what he finds.

Bucky grunts, barely keeping himself from shuddering with one, oh, two of Steve's fingers probing his hole. Still slick and slack, just like he said. Fuck, Bucky hates it when he's right. it's not his fault, though! Steve just can't fucking keep it in his pants.

Never.

"You were planning on going out like this?" Steve rubs around his gaping rim with those damn thick, calloused artist fingers, asking him with just about the same inflection as if he's questioning why he's wearing a scarf for summer weather.

Bucky's entire gut ties itself into a knot, nearly pushing a too-obvious sound of enjoyment out of him. Groaning. Steve's big, dumb, caveman fingers feel good, touching him where he's about to split him open, again, so what? Big whoop. "Dhh--I d-don't have much of a choice with you on me all the time, now do I? You're worse than a barnacle," he tries to hit back. His shot misses by a mile, not hitting him where it counts but in the ego instead--

Blondes, Bucky swears.

"You saying you're loose 'cause 'a me?" Bucky doesn't need to see Steve's face to know he's grinning like a lunatic.

"Pfft," he blows out a breath of hot air, more annoyed sounding than he really can manage to be so long as Steve's hands are on him, touching him, teasing him, "as if anyone could be loose with the fucking canon between your legs."

Steve bites his throat, locking his jaws around him until he whimpers. Then, victorious, he growls, "guess you're lucky I'm just sticking the tip in then like you want, hmm?"

"Uh-hhhuuh," Bucky starts to agree, but the sound is turned guttural and embarrassingly strung out by the quick, hot shove of the fat tip of Steve's cock into him. No warning. Just sudden murderously good, hot pleasure.

Oh, fuck.

Steve isn't done, apparently--that's not the end of his plundering of Bucky's body and pride, why would it be? How could it be? Steve's a fucking donkey. Bucky doesn't even know why he likes him save for that drool-worthy cock, and speaking of...

Steve shifts his hips back and the tip pops out, sliding past his rim, making it stretch stretch stretch then go lax abruptly. Empty. Bucky whimpers, far too devastated when he knows he's getting the tip right back. He knows! But, guh, as Steve shoves his way back inside, just the first inch, maybe two if he's lucky, Bucky moans, startled by how nice it feels. Yes. And that's how it goes.

Whimper-moan, whimper-moan, whimper-moan.

Out-in, out-in, out-in.

Steve shoves in and fucks back out.

The bastard could easily keep the tip of it inside and grind smoothly, he's got the muscle control and stamina for it, but he doesn't. He's being rough on purpose. Intentionally driving Bucky wild by fucking him in a jerky, both unsatisfying and over-satisfying way.

And, of course, just as Bucky starts to moan more and try to uncoordinatedly bat at his shoulder, wanting to badger him into just keeping it inside, please, god, it'd be so much less maddening that way--as is, he's shuddering, his rim is all sensitive and raw and hot feeling and he can't deal with it--Steve uses the tip of his cock to draw around his rim like he's smearing lipstick over Bucky's mouth. It makes him feel dirty. Used. Depraved.

Ohmyfuckinggod.

"Told you to do just the tip," Bucky hisses, pissed, so fucking frustrated with all this tension under his skin, deep in his muscles, he wants, Steve just needs to stop being such a--fuuuck. The way it stretches and pulls at his rim is too good. "So keep it in or get off me."

"Sorry, Buck," Steve's starting to pant, the only evidence of his breaking apart. Good. He deserves it. "Honey," his breath hitches before he really gets into it, "I can't help it! You're just so wet, I keep slipping out!" He has the gall to say all that, full of faux-innocence.

Bastard.

Bucky groans, "uunnngh," letting his head drop back, not caring when his skull connects with the wooden door. It hurts but the shock of sensation is welcome when he's fighting tooth and nail for crumbs from Steve. Fine. He curls his fingers into fists, arms thrown around Steve's neck indulgently.

Fine.

He can deal with this. He was tortured for seventy fucking years. Of course, he can take this. He can deal with a little bit of sexual frustration. No sweat. He can--

A cracked, nearly-shattered noise slips out of his lips. High and needy. Maybe he can't. The shove-in and pull-out is too good, each stretch and release of his overused rim makes him want to fucking die. Mouth hanging open, drool about to slip off his puffy, buzzing bottom lip, chest heaving so hard he's lightheaded, hyperventilating, and, just, it all leaves him with no choice but to swivel his hips and force himself down onto that fucking cock with the latest unsatisfyingly shallow thrust in Steve gives him. He won't give? Fine, Bucky will just take more of it.

It's agonizing, though, because it's not enough.

With the next harder, deeper roll of his hips down, Steve's big, infuriatingly steady hands catch his hips, "woah, Buck," he murmurs, holding him as he coos at him like he's a spooked horse, soothing his big, hot, heavy hands down his sides, shushing him, "watch yourself, Buck, you're gonna get more then the tip if you do that."

Bucky groans and breaks enough to let himself nod. Just a quick, barely budging up and down. He can't spare more than that, it's too humiliating. His pride. He won't have his pride more loose and fucked out than his hole, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

"But you said-" Steve's voice should be waaay more strained and less innocent. This is criminal. Bucky knows what he said but he doesn't fucking care now. Ugh. Read the room, Rogers! Bucky likes him the most when he's whimpering, humping him, and finishing in two quick pumps like an inexperienced frat boy, big and muscular but with the spirit of a golden retriever puppy in his huge chest, red in the face but unspeakably satisfied from finally, finally getting his dick wet.

"Don't care," Bucky grits, using his supposed superstrength against Steve's. It's a shame his strength seems to be shot to shit when he's being fucked-but-not-fucked-enough, so he just ends up squirming there uselessly. Not even pinned by cock, just barely scraping his toes against the ground, otherwise completely dependent on his asshole boyfriend.

Steve.

Steve's a good boy. Yeah, right. He's awful, following what Bucky said knowing that he's cursing his own words with venom right now.

Squirming harder, Bucky bites, "c'mon, just gimmie it--"

He can show Steve stubborn. Fuck him. He can be relentless. He's, he's an assassin! Just, c'mon, c'mooon.

It takes just a little more squirming and shoving and breathless orders that make them sound more like weak suggestions--it takes more work than he would like--but he gets there. He gets Steve to listen. His dick is back out of him when he finally just... gives in.

Finally.

He moans with his whole damn, huge chest into the junction of Bucky's arched neck, hot and sweaty, his hands bruising his waist, holding him so his left leg is curled around his waist and his right leg is stretched out, his toes barely making contact with the ground anymore, the way he's being fucked.

Steve is using him like a fleshlight, fucking up into him hard.

YES!

It happens so fast, though, that Bucky does not have time to gloat. The best he can do, the whole fucking thing inside him so fast, is choke on a sob.

It's in his throat.

"Ahh, yeahh," Bucky breathlessly laughs, frantic and unspeakably pleased, full of perverse glee like waking up on Christmas but to a tree surrounded by presents that turn out to be only wrapped up sex toys, "that's it," he moans. His hands squeeze roughly at the nape of Steve's neck, holding on for the ride. And there it is.

There's his good boy, whimpering, his hips stuttering now that his dick really is shoved somewhere hot and wet and tight, up in his guts. Losing control because Bucky is sloppy and too much. Too good. "Fuck me," Bucky demands. Steve is already going hard, but, damn, Bucky will be dead the day he doesn't push for more. So what if he's a desperate bottom that always ends up fucked out and loose? Steve's just as bad with his huge, hung-like-a-horse cock and stupid high sex drive. They're made for each other.

And Steve does as he demands. He fucks, driving his soul out of his goddamn body with how hard he drives into him, making their front door rattle. The neighbors are gonna call the cops again but Bucky does not give a single shit. He has more important things going on like moaning "AH, AH, AH!" at the top of his lungs.