k3n-dyll

[k3n-dyll]

one day when i have the time and energy for it im gonna make a pt.2 to this where grayson joins in cus why not

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, dom!Sevika, dom!Ambessa, rough sex, porn with zero plot, oral (r!receving), strap usage, strap sucking/face fucking, spit, squirting, spit roasting Word Count: 898

Notes ☆ this is just a sleepy, disgustingly horny, rant, man. Like, more so than usual.

Sevika practically holds you down with her body, mech arm caught tight around your torso as her flesh palm paws and squeezes at your tits, her lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. She's enjoying the view more than she'd ever admit out loud, silver eyes fixated on the other woman that's had her head snug between your legs for what at this point feels like fucking hours. Neither of you can seem to take your eyes off of the way Ambessa's scarred back and broad shoulders move as she forces you to keep still for her, the same large hands that so gently caress your face and hold you close any other time now locked in a vice grip against your thighs, sure to leave bruises against the soft skin.

The noises coming from her sucking and lapping at your cunt are bordering on obnoxious, the amount of time you've been pushed over the edge with her mouth alone having landed you sitting in a wet spot of a collection of your own squirt and her saliva. The overstimulation has reduced you into a babbling, trembling little mess, and yet neither of them have had their fill yet.

"I c-can't, I can't..." You slur, both women letting out amused huffs of laughter at your pathetic attempt to speak. Dumbly, you think that Ambessa pulling away and Sevika's grip on your body loosening means that you finally get a little bit of a break, your sigh of relief getting cut short by Sevika's voice as she whispers into your ear.

"You're not done, doll. Hands and knees." Her coaxing is gentle, her hands keeping you steady as you switch positions with the elegance of a newborn calf. It'd be humiliating if your brain hadn't been rendered so useless, eyes half-lidded as you watch Ambessa's tear-blurred form tower over you, a hand coming to grip your chin.

"Such a pretty thing you are. You've got a little more in you, don't you angel?" Ambessa's sultry tone fills your ears, a dopey grin crossing your features at the praise as you give an equally lazy nod. Gently, she presses the red silicone hanging from her hips against your mouth, seeking permission for entrance. "Good, girl. Open that pretty mouth for me"

Your jaw slacks almost immediately, a low hum of approval escaping the woman in front of you, her murmured praises and the feeling of her hand gently palming the back of your head distracting you from the girth stuffing your jaws. Distracting you from what's happening behind you as well.

You get little warning - the bed slightly sinking in from behind and the cool touch of a metal hand against the plush of your hip before you start to feel Sevika pushing her own strap inside of you. A choked yelp of surprise escaping you at the feeling, your body tensing up.

"Uh-uh, relax... that's it, just breathe baby.." Sevika purrs, leaning down and peppering wet kisses along the arch of your back to ease your tension, though she doesnt stop her advances, each shallow pump of her hips stretching you further.

They give you grace, letting you adjust, kissing and marking you as you settle around them but the gentle front doesn't last long. Sevika can't stop herself from slamming into you from behind, admiring the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, her own pussy dripping against the harness at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of her cock.

Each thrust from behind forces Ambessa's strap down your throat, every gag forced from you sending strings of saliva pooling from behind your lips and onto your chin, your neck, the bed...

"You're such a fucking mess, look at that.." Ambessa chuckles as she watches you struggle to take her in your mouth, enjoying how eager you are to please, even if it turns you into well...this. She rewards your eagerness by pulling out of your mouth, barely letting you get down a few much-needed gulps of air before she's shifted the harness down off of her hips, instead shoving your face flush between her thighs, letting you taste her.

Your breathlessness doesn't stop you from lapping at her like a woman starved, fingers curling into the sheets as you do your best to focus on the task at hand without succumbing to the intensity of Sevika's sloppy pounding from behind. Their grunts and overlapping praises drown out all thought, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, shaking and twitching as you're split between the two. The only warning you're able to give before your climax ultimately rips through your body is a couple of muffled, loud whines.

Your head falls from Ambessa's grip, the woman letting you breathe as you cum, Sevika's hips just barely slowing as you finally let go, too enthralled in the way you squirt around her, the liquid wetting both your and her lower halves.

"Gonna have so much to clean up when we're finished with this one - fuck" Sevika boasts, letting her human palm land on your ass with a thwack. Ambessa just chuckles, her palm lightly patting the side of your face to keep you grounded in reality.

"You'll get to rest that pretty head in a little while, angel..." She coos. "But we're not quite done yet..."

Donations 4 Palestine - Arcane Masterlist

Taglist: @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @glass-apothecary, @cobraisveryhorny - Wanna be tagged?

We're gonna pretend I tagged the correct ppl the first time, 'kay? <3

[k3n-dyll]

—Not even on the cheek ? (sevika x inexperienced reader)

chapter one - chapter two

no cw, pure fluff and crack, modern au! Sevika is going to horny jail.

synopsis: Sevika meets you in college. If her fingers could talk, they’d have too many stories to tell: girls kissed, nights spent, burrowed somewhere you don’t want to know. And you? You invite her to eat cheap sandwiches on a skatepark ramp in the middle of a quiet park. And… She says yes. For some unknown reason. Then you tell her you’ve never kissed anyone before. Never dated. And Sevika, gruff, jaded, hopelessly gay Sevika, is speechless for the first time in years.

words: 3.5k (oops)

Something shifts after that night.

It’s not big. Not obvious. You don’t treat each other any differently. Sevika still bumps your hip with hers when you walk too slow, still steals your fries with absolutely no shame, still rolls her eyes when you say weird shit and trips you when you walk too close to her on the sidewalk.

But.

There’s a but now.

Because Sevika can’t help it. Sometimes, when you’re walking ahead of her in the hallway, sunlight hitting your legs just right, those little shorts hugging you like they’re made of sin, her eyes linger. Not in a full-perv way, okay? Not creepy. She’s just… noticing. Accidentally. Against her will.

Okay, actually. Maybe a little creepy. she’s self aware enough to admit that.

But it’s hard to stay normal when you’re the kind of girl Sevika’s never even met before.

What the hell were you doing during your teenage years?

It’s not a judgment, not even confusion. She just genuinely wants to know.

While Sevika was -during her shitty teenage years- out getting suspended, skipping class, smoking behind the gym with a girl whose eyeliner never matched, you were… what? Reading? Drawing? Writing ? Knitting ?

She tries to picture you at sixteen. Hoodie too big. Headphones in. Sitting on a bench with a little smile that made you look stupid, just like you still do.

It’s weirdly easy to imagine. She doesn’t like how easy it is.

And it’s worse now that the weather’s hot. Because now you walk through the university halls in shorts and skirts and crop tops, and Sevika, who is usually so in control of where she lets her eyes go, is absolutely not in control anymore.

She tries, she really does. She tells herself don’t look at her legs, don’t be weird. But then she does it anyway.

Against her will.

Totally involuntary.

And she hates herself just a little bit for it. Because she’s not some freshman boy with a shitty haircut and a Pornhub hoodie. She’s a grown-ass woman who should have better things to do than stare at your thighs like she’s about to beg for a bite.

But there she is. Pride fully gone.

And what haunts her even more is what you said that night; right before you traumatized her.

You had looked at her, all calm and unbothered, and said:

“I guess I just never really wanted to try. Like, I’ve always been happy like this. I need to feel affection to do something like that, so… it’s kinda hard when you’ve never had a crush, you know?”

And Sevika, freak that she is, had blinked at you and gone: “Well, I ate my first cooch at fourteen.”

You gasped, full-body gasp, sat up so straight it looked like someone pulled a string in your spine.

“EWWWWWW!”

And Sevika, who never laughs with her teeth, who snorts exactly never… choked.

Choked on her smoke and laughed so hard she had to slap her own chest.

“Excuse me” she’d wheezed. “Did you just ew me?”

“Yes!! Fourteen?! That’s jail!!”

“We were the same age!”

“That’s still EW!”

And Sevika had laughed even harder. The kind that made her chest ache and her eyes squint.

That was rare. You didn’t even know it, but you’d unlocked something.

And it all happens… so fast. Sevika almost doesn’t even notice.

One week, it’s you sitting cross-legged on her dorm bed, talking about the lore of your favorite series while she pretends to scroll through her phone. She doesn’t have to answer you, but she does. She always does. Eventually. Same for texts; you always yap, she always answers. Even if she doesn’t have to. Even if it’s just a thumb up, which is very sevika-like of her.

The next week, you’re sprawled across her desk chair, swinging your legs while she lies on her side facing you, cigarette dangling from her fingers as she listens to you ramble about something you read online. She never admits it, but she stores the details. Just… for later.

By now, it’s a routine. You hang out. You talk. She answers. Every time.

And Thursday nights, the so-called “party night” for half the campus, are suddenly different.

Because apparently Sevika needs to be there.

Not in the “yeah, I like this bar” way. Not even in the “I’m bored” way. In the you’re going, so I’m going way.

Because she knows you don’t usually go to these party. That’s where you met, because you never talked to each other when you walked in the hallways of your college. It was sheer luck. But now you come because your friends love partying, and Sevika has to come with you. Talk to you, watch you, be with you.

She slips her hand onto the small of your back when you’re walking through the crowd, guiding you like she’s done it a hundred times before. Not rough. Not obvious. Just there, warm, steady, and solid when bodies brush too close.

Sometimes she disappears for a few minutes, bathroom, cigarette break, whatever, and she always finds you again. Always.

Especially if someone’s talking too close.

It’s not that she storms over and shoves them. She just appears. A shadow at your side, tall and unblinking, saying nothing but looking. The kind of look that makes people remember they have somewhere else to be.

You never comment on it. You just smile when she takes your empty cup and replaces it with an other soda.

And the thing is… she could still be hooking up.

There’s this one girl that Sevika used to like spending the night with when the mood struck. She texts sometimes. You up? Or wanna come at my place?

And last Thursday, Sevika’s in the middle of the bar with you when her phone buzzes. She glances down. It’s the girl.

She could go. You wouldn’t stop her, probably wouldn’t even notice.

But her thumb hovers. And then she puts the phone face-down and slips it back into her pocket without replying.

Because you’re laughing at something, and she’s close enough to see the crinkle at the corner of your eyes, and suddenly that text feels like it’s from another lifetime.

She doesn’t even realize she hasn’t fucked with anyone in weeks.

It’s not a decision she made.

It’s just… you.

One Thursday night, you decide to come. She does too.

The music’s pounding, lights flashing low and warm over the crush of bodies. You’re standing near the edge of the crowd with a soda in hand, smiling politely at some girl in a denim jacket who clearly thinks she’s being smooth.

You’re already shaking your head. “No, thanks—really, I’m good—”

The girl laughs, leaning closer. “Come on, just one dance! You can’t tell me you’re having fun standing here.”

You open your mouth to decline again, and then she’s just there.

Sevika.

She doesn’t say a word at first. Just slides into the space beside you, tall and solid, her hand finding its now-familiar place at the small of your back.

The girl glances up, startled. “Um… hey?”

Sevika’s gaze is sharp, her jaw flexing once. “You deaf?”

Your brows shoot up. “Sevika—”

“She said no,” Sevika cuts in, voice low and rough enough to be felt over the music.

The girl scoffs, offended. “Relax, I was just—”

“Walking away now,” Sevika interrupts again, her tone still calm but edged with something that makes the other girl’s shoulders tense.

There’s a beat. Then girl mutters something under her breath and disappears into the crowd.

You turn to Sevika, half-surprised, half-concerned. “Hey. I was fine.”

Her eyes are still tracking where the girl vanished, shoulders tight, cigarette case in her free hand like she’s about to step outside just to burn off the feeling. “She wasn’t listening.”

You press your hand to her arm, gentle, grounding. “And now she’s gone. It’s okay.”

Sevika finally looks at you. And there’s something in her face—not just the leftover glare, but that other thing. The thing that’s been creeping in ever since you told her you’ve never kissed anyone, that unwilling pull toward you she keeps pretending isn’t there.

Your thumb brushes over the seam of her sleeve. “You’re like my bodyguard or something now?”

Her mouth twitches, almost a smile. “Damn right.”

And even though you mean it as a tease, Sevika’s chest feels a little lighter hearing you say it.

By now it’s almost impossible to notice.

Sevika’s hand is on your back in a crowded hallway, at the bar, even when you’re just walking through campus and there’s literally no reason for it. She’s always close enough to reach for you if something happens, even if “something” is just a guy saying your name too loudly.

Her eyes are sharp when someone’s rude, sharper when someone’s flirty. She never calls it out directly, but the looks she gives? They’re enough to cut the air.

Sometimes she’s leaning against the wall outside your classroom, arms crossed, pretending she’s just passing by. Sometimes she walks you to your next lecture without comment. Sometimes she peels off from the group just to match your pace.

Most of the time, you’re surrounded by your shared friends. But sometimes, it’s just the two of you.

Eating sandwiches in the park. Sharing fries on her bed while she half-watches a movie. Sitting on the curb outside the dorms at midnight because neither of you feels like going inside yet.

It’s not… only friendly. Not a bro thing. You’re starting to realize that.

And then one night, Sevika’s in her dorm, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop balanced on her knees. Her roommate’s across the room, big headphones on, swaying to music you can faintly hear when the beat spikes.

Her phone buzzes.

She sees your name.

“Hey,” she answers, leaning back against the bedhead.

“Hi.” Your voice is small, a little hesitant. “Um… this is kinda dumb but… could you maybe—uh—sleep over in my dorm tonight? My roommate’s gone and I hate sleeping alone... I’m a coward, okay, I don’t wanna sleep alone.”

Sevika doesn’t move for a second. Doesn’t even blink.

Because in her head, it’s chaos.

crash n1: What the fuck.

crash n2: She’s asking me. Not someone else. Not a friend from her floor. Me.

crash n3: This is not a big deal. This is not a big deal.

crash n4: Fuck yeah I’m going.

“…Yeah,” she says finally, her voice even. Too even. “Sure. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Really?” you perk up instantly, and the sound of it makes her chest feel like it’s caving in and expanding at the same time.

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

She hangs up before she says something stupid.

Across the room, her roommate glances up, eyebrow raised. “You heading out?”

Sevika shoves her laptop shut and grabs her hoodie, considers it’s gonna be her sleepwear and take just the things she needs to survie the night.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

She doesn’t answer. Not because it’s a secret, because there’s no version of the truth that doesn’t sound like she’s already in too deep.

And maybe she is.

Because ten minutes later, she’s knocking on your door, telling herself this is just a favor.

That she’s just being a good friend.

That she’s definitely not going to lie awake next to you wondering how the hell she’s supposed to keep pretending she doesn’t want more.

When you open the door, Sevika’s first thought is… oh.

Not oh, hey or oh, so this is your dorm. Just oh.

Because she’s seen you in a dozen different outfits; crowded lecture halls, smoky parties, sweats in the library… but never in this.

Your pajamas aren’t fancy. They’re just soft, matching, and… cute. A little too cute for her brain to process in real time.

Something about it knocks her center of gravity off by a half-step.

She tells herself she’s fine. Totally fine.

“Hey,” you greet, stepping aside so she can come in. “You’ve never been in here before. I’m always going to your room but—” you yawn, rubbing your eyes in a way that makes her feel oddly protective—“Oops, sorry. Yeah, I was saying, it’s kinda scary alone, I’m so glad you’re here tonight.”

“Yeah,” she says, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “It’s no problem.”

You close the door and flop onto your bed. “We can order something if you want. I’ve got menus in that drawer. Something fat and greasy, you know.”

She glances around, not just to avoid staring at your legs curled under you, but because your side of the dorm is… well, you.

Posters in a neat collage over your bed; bands, movies, little art prints. A vanilla scent in the air, subtle but warm. A couple of shirts tossed on the floor next to a pair of worn-in boots. A small vanity pushed against the wall, cluttered with makeup, a little mirror framed in stickers.

She doesn’t know why she’s cataloging all of it. She just… is.

When she sits on the edge of your bed, the mattress dips, and you shift instinctively toward her.

Her hoodie smells like smoke and laundry detergent. Your hair brushes her arm.

And in her head, Sevika’s telling herself the same thing she’s been repeating for weeks now:

This is normal.

Friends do this.

I’m fine.

…But when you smile at her, sleepy and soft, she knows she’s lying to herself.

She’s gonna have to survive the night.

Nothing difficult right ?

Sevika’s been in plenty of girls’ beds.

Some were messy, some pristine, some with mismatched sheets or candles burning on the dresser. All of them had one thing in common: she was there to do something.

Fuck. Forget the day. Have a good time, pull her clothes back on, and go.

So sitting cross-legged on your single dorm bed with a Nintendo Switch Lite in her hands? Yeah, this is new.

She’s confused. Like she missed a turn somewhere.

“What the hell is this?” she mutters, frowning at the tiny screen.

“It’s Mario Kart,” you say patiently, already clicking through menus. “I told you—it’s easy.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s fun,” you correct, handing her the second controller.

She grunts, which is her way of conceding without admitting it.

But the real problem isn’t the game.

The problem is the bed is small. And your pajamas are cute. And the way you’ve curled your legs means you’re basically half in her lap, one thigh bracketing her hips, your breast brushing her arm every time you lean forward to point something out.

She can feel heat crawling up the back of her neck.

She tells herself she’s fine. That she’s not noticing. That it’s normal to be bad at this game because the controls are tiny and dumb.

And then you say it.

“You’re doing good!”

She growls under her breath. “I’m in last place.”

“Yeah, but you’re learning so fast,” you say, eyes bright, leaning closer. “You’re so good!”

Oh, fuck.

She’s not built for this.

She can handle moans in her ear, begging, nails down her back.

But encouragement while she’s fully clothed and losing at Mario Kart? This is a new kind of torture.

She can feel your breath on her shoulder when you laugh. She can feel the press of your leg against her thigh. And the worst part? Her brain keeps trying to wander to places it shouldn’t.

She shifts the Switch in her hands like it’s suddenly too hot to hold. “Stop saying that,” she mutters.

“What? That you’re doing good?”

“Yes.”

You laugh again, which only makes her ears burn hotter. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer. Because the truth is: she could appreciate it the way it’s meant—if she wasn’t trying to shut down the fact that she’s horny over a video game tutorial in a dorm room that smells like vanilla.

She ends up driving her kart straight off the track.

“Okay focus!” you gasp, leaning even closer as you laugh.

She glares at the screen, pretending the game’s the problem. “This is bullshit.”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, already restarting the race.

She tells herself she’s just annoyed. She knows she’s lying.

You know, Sevika could’ve slept in your roommate’s bed.

Hell, she even looked at it when she first came in, sizing it up. But when you pulled your blankets back and told her there was enough space here, she didn’t argue.

You didn’t explain. She didn’t ask.

Friend thing.

Now she’s sitting against your headboard, legs stretched out, while you lie on your side next to her, head propped up on your hand, talking about… something. She’s not even sure what anymore.

Your voice is low, words tumbling into each other in that way you get when you’re tired but still want to keep the conversation going.

Then you pause. “Can I ask you something?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her brain running through possibilities between two very specific, very distracting thoughts about how close your knee is to her thigh and how pretty you would sound with her mouth on you.

“Yeah,” she says finally, casual as she can manage.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

Her stomach drops.

You tack on quickly, “Theoretically speaking, of course.”

Theoretically. Sure.

She shifts, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, trying to look like she’s thinking about it, when really her mind’s just a mess of oh, shit.

“Is that a trick question?” she mutters, glancing down at you.

“No.” You shrug, a tiny smile playing on your lips. “Just wondering.”

Her eyes linger on your mouth for half a second too long.

“…Yeah,” she says finally, voice low. “I would.”

You tilt your head. “Really?”

She scoffs, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on your nightstand that she knows she can’t smoke in here, just to give her hands something to do. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“I dunno…” you tease, “thought maybe I wasn’t your type.”

She gives you a look, one that says you have no idea. “Trust me, you are.”

You grin, rolling onto your back. “Good to know.”

And Sevika leans her head back against the wall, telling herself she’s fine. That she’s not thinking about it.

She is.

Flopped onto your back, head tilted toward her, and there’s this look on your face.

Not just a smile — it’s knowing, full, happy.

Sevika catches it when she glances down, and for a split second she swears her chest tightens.

She rolls her eyes, leaning her head back like she’s not affected at all. “What’s with that face?”

“Nothing,” you answer, voice all innocent, but your eyes are still on her, like you’re cataloging every twitch in her jaw.

“Bullshit.” She shifts her weight, tries to look past you, anywhere else. But the smell of your shampoo, the faint crinkle of your sheets when you move, and that damn smile— it’s all still there.

“You’re thinking about it,” you say softly, not accusing, just stating a fact.

She exhales through her nose, slow and sharp. “Go to sleep.”

You laugh, warm and unbothered, and say, “I’m not tired.”

“Yes, you are,” Sevika mutters, like she’s stating the weather. Eyes narrowing at you just enough to mask the fact that she’s trying not to stare at your mouth.

You don’t argue. You just smile.

That smile. The one that’s soft but certain, like you’ve already figured her out.

It does things to her. Things she’s not about to admit.

Her jaw flexes. “…You want me to kiss you?”

You don’t blink. Don’t flinch. You just nod once, slow.

Damn it.

Her mind short-circuits, the crash so loud she almost thinks you can hear it. For a long second she doesn’t move, because she knows herself—knows that if she leans in too far, if she feels your body against hers, she won’t stop at just a kiss.

Still… she leans in. One hand comes up to cup your cheek, the roughness of her fingers startling against your soft skin. Her lips brush yours gently, like she’s trespassing somewhere she’s not allowed. It’s slow, deliberate, careful in a way she’s never been before.

She pulls back a little too fast, gaze flicking away like she’s afraid of what she might see on your face.

You blink up at her, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, and say softly, “That was nice. Can we do it again?”

Sevika blinks too, like you just flipped a switch inside her brain that she didn’t even know was there.

Her rough hand still cups your cheek, fingers lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. She swallows hard, voice low and a little breathless. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

Because who the fuck does she thinks she is to say no to that. Of course she’ll kiss you again.

You grin, the kind of grin that makes her heart trip over itself. “Good.”

Without thinking twice, she leans back in, slower this time, like she’s memorizing every detail. The softness of your lips, the warmth of your breath, the way your eyes flutter closed just before she kisses you.

Her hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling gently in your hair, pulling you just a little closer. The kiss deepens, sweet but hungry, like she’s trying to catch up on years of experience while still being careful not to rush you.

You sigh softly against her mouth, and for once, Sevika lets herself melt into it.

When you finally break apart, your forehead resting against hers, you laugh quietly. “So… again?”

Sevika’s grin is wicked but honest. “Yeah, again.”

as much as I love to please everyone, I think I’ll listen to my darling @/blessupblessup and slow down writing for a little while 🫶🏻 will still be posting but not every night like I usually do 🩷 I mean probably, or maybe I’m gonna feel better and then post every two hours again I don’t know LMAO

taglist: @pokiiks @arteemm @lez-zuha @notsevikaa @riotstemple29 @joyispunk @angelz-void @lia-winther @rhearipleysbrutality @abbyssgf @ciyl @valeriasgirl @vargas-angel11 @sevikas-whore @normal-human-girl @starrysetup22 @summerwriting @raimakesstuff @too-x @violetsforroses98 @asahipoopoo @inspodatabase @blessupblessup @archangeldyke-all @sevikasswifee @losernb, @sevikasrighttit @katarandaa @ahintofchaos @kittymrtnezz69 @ferxanda @tzuvoir

[k3n-dyll]

I crave tabletop dnd, I crave it like water but none of my friends IRL play and I deadass already know what the vast majority of these discord servers will look like for me as a black, femme lesbian - ugh why do so many nerdy spaces have to be misogynistic and racist I just wanna play my silly little traumatized elf girl in peace!

[k3n-dyll]

I hate that feeling when a piece of media looks like it's right up my alley, then when I finally partake, I hate it. What do you mean the pawns in dragons dagma 2 have surface level personalities at best, they dont have any other story or purpose but to serve you and be yes men, you can't make a buff woman for shit in the character creator (but, funnily enough you can give the women unrealisitic hentai proportions...yay patriarchy!) , the story is unengaging (honestly it has potential, but for me it just drags) and the combat ain't even fun fr? Typically, I let shit slide in RPG's if it has good qualities to make up for the bad ones, like is the dialogue in Veilguard awkward at points? Yeah, but I like the combat, the character creation, the story (even if it can get a bit convoluted), and as little of Taash as I get to actually see, I also romance Karlach in BG3 every single time, so I'm not used to getting romances with content that spans the entirety of the game anyways. But damn, all 3 boxes didn't hit? I'm hurt

[k3n-dyll]

more long haired sevika i beg of you, ill give up my firstborn

this sketch is like a week old but i forgot to put it here (nudity under the cut and all that)

[k3n-dyll]

Im still cooking i promise i've just been at work

[k3n-dyll]

lesbophobic misogynistic piece of shit

LMFAO elaborate I beg

[k3n-dyll]

I was deadass btw

Context

[k3n-dyll]

got an annoying ask from a terf doing their terf rant at me about how i draw butches and lesbians in general so i drew a hunky butch <3

[k3n-dyll]

It's infuriating when I tell someone I'm a lesbian and they go "oh well sexuality is fluid so.." like maybe it is! For you! And other people! Which is totally cool! Leave me outta that, I'm a dyke! End of story!

[k3n-dyll]

I usually block it out but sometimes I see the utter hatred some younger lesbians have toward masculine lesbians, lesbians on T, lesbians that use pronouns that arent "she/her", etc and I giggle because these mfs would DIE if they actually interacted with the community outside of the internet.

[k3n-dyll]

due to a recent comment that both confuses and concerns me (I wont be replying, simply because I have no clue whether this person is a child or not but I assume so?), I will be redrawing this. in more, better detail. As well as blocking that person because upon looking deeper I've found myself in the midst of a biphobe? I'm simply too employed to deal with that bs lmao

I kept thinking about how she probably takes baths in rivers n' shit when she's been on patrol for weeks at a time without much water access and this is the image that came out of that

[k3n-dyll]

I made Sevika in Veilguard (from memory), so...here's that

[k3n-dyll]

I wanna draw more Sevika but I have no thoughts in mind for an actual piece for some reason and pinterest aint pinteresting right now so here are some rough sketches of her with long hair that im gonna hate when I've slept and am awake at a reasonable time

[k3n-dyll]

GOOD GOD ALLMIGHTY

full and +one drawin under the cut

[k3n-dyll]

she'd have to damn near kill me in a fight cus IM NOT TAPPING OUT

[k3n-dyll]

GUYS, GUYS GUYS PRETEND THAT LAST POST ABOUT PITFIGHTER SEV DIDNT EXIST I DREW IT AT LIKE 5 IN THE MORNING THIS ONE IS BETTER PLEASE