#I love drawing buff bodies now

[aerkame]

Home is where the heart is.

I just wanted to do a rough idea on what colors Home is.

Heehoo, have sum sketchies for today.

Originally I wanted Home to have gold on his robes, but I thought that silver is more fitting considering that his "children" are that of finfolk.

[ipxakachi]

Guilty Challenge but he also got stuck

[back2bluesidex]

Standing Next To You - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, Angst, Fluff, established relationship au

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Summary: Your and Jungkook's relationship is all about dark rooms, shadows, rendezvous and secrecy. It pains you to even think that you can't claim him as yours in front of the world. But Jungkook is always there to set your fears free because he loves you even more than you love him.

Warnings: public sex, backstage sex, explicit sex, crying, moaning, dirty talk, spitting, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), creampie, multiple orgasm, Jungkook is whipped. NSFW!!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: This turned out to be more angsty than I intended it to be lol. But it's spicy regardless.

“Baby please! Just one kiss?” Jungkook whispers right next to your ear. 

“Jungkook… we can’t!” you reply as silently as possible, shoving him a little bit, making sure not to shake up the makeshift changing room. 

“We can. Just a quickie won’t hurt, baby.” He presses his body on yours even more. Your steps falter, being unable to take the weight of his body on yours. 

“Quicky? Are you out of your mind? You are two minutes away from your performance! You wanna exhaust yourself now?” you try to put some senses in his mind, while shoving him away again. But he won’t budge and you are no match for his well-worked-out, manly, buff physique. 

“Come on, Y/N. Please. I beg you.” Jungkook’s mouth already sits on your throat, placing soft and small kisses, which will soon turn into bruising possessiveness painted just for the world to see.

So bad you can’t paint him like you. You can’t claim him to be yours in front of the world. 

Jungkook’s mouth does its part of reaching to your sweet spot and nibbling as hard as he can. 

You hiss. The sensession gathers heat in your stomach.

“Don’t mark me!” you spat at him, a little more harshly than you intended it to be. But you can’t help it. This secrecy of your relationship has been taking a toll on you lately. You have been drowsed into a spiral of overbearing thoughts. The continuous surveillance of his label on your life, your relationship, is unsettling you way too much. 

Jungkook’s pretty eyes widen at your harsh tone. 

It’s new. The way you have been protesting today, almost shoving him away from your body, resisting his kisses and now asking him not to mark you, all of it is new. 

In two years of your secret relationship, it has become pretty usual for you guys to find a rendezvous and claim each other inside shadows. You never had a problem with it… until today. 

“Has anything happened? Did the company do anything again?” Jungkook stares deep into your eyes. Confusions, questions and even fears spill out of his dark orbs. You know if you don’t distract him now, he will read you out and that may hamper his upcoming performance. 

“No-nothing.” your murmur, this time pulling him closer to you, “I signed an NDA, Jungkook. Do you want your label to come after me for sporting your hickeys in front of all the staff and reporters backstage?” 

Jungkook’s skilled hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside your underwear within a few seconds. Your eyes fall shut as soon as his rough fingers come in contact with your clit. 

Jungkook smirks at your reaction. It’s amazing how contrasting your statements and your reactions are. He knows only he can do this to you. Only he can break your resolve and take away all of your senses. 

“All I want, darling, is” he plunges two of his fingers into your leaking hole while the fat of his thumb draws smooth circles on your clit, “to fuck you raw in front of everyone so that they know you belong to me. I don’t want this secrecy anymore. I want to tell everyone that I am all yours and only yours.” 

Your fingers dig on Jungkook’s naked biceps as he scissors his fingers and stretches your hole out. His words set your heart on overdrive.

“My fat cock drilled you so many times but you are still so tight, fuck! You-” he groans as you moan his name, “you are perfect. I love you so fucking much.” with that he twists his fingers and presses on your g-spot and then within a few seconds you are spasming all over his hands and your underwear. 

“Fuck baby. You cummed so much. You will take me now like a good girl. Won’t you?” He does a quick job of undoing his belt and pants. 

You probably should thank his stylist before heading home. These dress pants and buttoned up vest have elevated his entire look on a different level. The sleeveless vest provides the entire view of his tattooed arm, something that you are totally weak for. You started salivating the moment he emerged from the green room. But before you could compliment him, he was dragging you towards this dingy space. 

Jungkook’s cock springs out of his boxers and slaps against his abdomen. 

Your eyes greedily fall on his erection as he spreads his palm before your mouth. You look up at him feigning innocence.

“Spit.” he orders. And you spit. 

He pumps his length a few times preparing it to lodge inside you. Meanwhile you kick your heels off, strip off your jeans and panties and make yourself ready. 

“Good girl” Jungkook murmurs as he lines his cock on your entrance. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you keep him as close as possible. 

Once Jungkook’s tip is inside your cunt, he pushes the rest in one go. Your body jerks up as an impact, silent curses falling out of your lips. Giving you time to adjust, he unbuttons your blouse, pulls down your bra and sets your tits free. 

“Move now.” you whisper, which Jungkook complies to. 

Your back hits the wall as he thrusts into you roughly making you groan.

His thrusts are so rough and deep right from the start that you start moaning even when you know you should not. Even when you know what the result could be. 

Jungkook winds up one hand around your waist to keep you steady, places another hand on one of your tit massaging it gently and seals his mouth with yours in an earth-shattering kiss. 

His lips are desperate. He raves you with so much passion that you want to cry. Nobody can love you as much as Jungkook and yet you can’t even show off this love. 

His hips are restless. His cock deliciously pounds into your sloppy cunt making it tough for you to even breathe properly. 

He groans into your mouth as you cum for a second time in less than ten minutes, coating his cock with your juices. 

Your orgasm triggers his own and Jungkook unloads himself inside you. Shooting his white, thick, hotness inside you, he paints your walls, claims you in his own way.

“Jungkook, you are next in the line.” his manager screams from outside. There is an annoyance in his tone that suggests that he knows what exactly are you two up to. 

“I’m out in two minutes, hyung.” Jungkook screams back breathlessly. 

You get teary. Jungkook is about to return to his place. He will perform and thousands of souls will fall in love with him yet again. All while you will stand under his shadow, in secrecy, so that no one knows of your existence, of the love that is blooming in between you two.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook opens his mouth to ease your fears, “We'll survive the test of time, Y/N. No matter what the situation is, they can’t deny our love. They can’t divide us. Just a few more days, baby and then I will proudly be standing next to you. I promise.” 

Your tears fall free and he kisses those away. Two pairs of lips meet again as he tries to seal the moment before he leaves you alone for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

[enden-agolor]

i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?

Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.

It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.

In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.

The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.

By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.

Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.

It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.

So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍

Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️

[dgrailwar]

Round 3, Day 2 - ALL TEAMS (Extra Summon - Tempest)

The lone Faker stood in the midst of the storm, awaiting whoever was to challenge her.

A figure, spiraling down from the heavens and striking at the Faker. The Alter-Ego, beautiful and proud, engaged in swift close combat as her bladed legs danced against the sparking metal of the Faker's sword. They seemed to be evenly matched, as the Alter-Ego laughed.

"I don't get what all the fuss is about--! I could handle you by myself, you know?"

"Alter-Ego… I like that warrior's confidence, but it won't be enough!"

The Faker's eyes flashed, the Alter-Ego's movements slowing in a critical moment as she was struck off the chariot, only recovering fast enough to safely land on the ground to regroup. The chariot wheeled downwards, charging at the Alter-Ego before a gust of wind threw it off course, the Faker's attention turning to another Servant. The MoonCancer, hovering in the air with massive flapping elephant ears, venting to nobody in particular.

"Gh… why couldn't I have 'support-type' build? Then I could just hang back and throw out buffs while everyone else got in close with the fighting. Ahh-- whatever! If I'm a tank, then I'm a tank! Let's draw some aggro!"

With the Faker's attention drawn elsewhere, two more Servants rushed into the fray.

"The sound of lightning…!"

"Come, o' Blade of Flames!"

Two attacks, simultaneously struck at the Faker. One, a glittering roseate fencing blade thrust forward. Second, a dark saber of cursed flames slashed downward. Both attacks forced the rider of the skeletal chariot to reel, as she retaliated with her own sword, knocking them both away with a thunderous strike as they both spiraled in the air, struggling to catch themselves.

"Uwaah--! That sword… is fast…!" "Hahaha! She's a bit tougher than a standard Heroic Spirit! Good! Very good!"

On the ground, two Servants watched. One of them, a Pretender in a white cloak, held out his hands as magic sparkled outward, providing energy to the direct combatants as they fought against the Faker. The second, a Ruler wearing a heavy blue cloak against the storm, was waving her banner proudly, light shining from her body.

"You must be the Ruler, looking at how proudly you're waving that flag. I didn't take a Ruler for one to want a reward."

"I don't care for the reward, just for solving this Grail War. This battle... we'll have to work together, but by some metric one of us will be determined as 'the best'."

"An 'MVP', perhaps?" The Pretender chuckled. "So, nobody can afford to sandbag either. Everybody wants to be a winner, right? Even someone like you can't afford to lose."

She slammed down her banner, the harsh rainfall temporarily broken by golden light that pierced through like an arrow, covering all the participating Servants against the Faker-Class.

"You're right, I don't want to lose either...so, let's give it our all! Come, Faker! Let the battle begin!"

"Hahaha! Now this is what I love to see! In this bout, I shall serve as your seventh! So come, show me that warrior spirit! The greatest of you will face glory, and the cowardly will face punishment! Warriors of the Extra-Class, Mages of the modern era, distant as you may ever be-- show me your resolve, and Faker will return it in kind!"

Due to the presence of all participating Servants everyone is put on fair ground! No boosts or demerits apply, the results are what they are!

The Servant who does the most against Faker (as in, gets 1st Place) wins!

SCORING:

1st Place will receive a boost of their choosing from an assortment for their next round!

2nd Place will not receive any rewards, but evade punishment!

3rd through 5th Place will gain a -2% demerit during their next round! These demerits bypass any resistances!

Last place will gain a wound that bypasses any damage evasion passives!

[iloveundertaesooomuch]

!!THIS IS NOT CALEB!!

This is my version of the FTF Grimwalker that got possessed by Belos and then was resurected on GrimIsles!

His name is Cheese! ...Bear with me here-

His grimwalker siblings let him to choose his own name, because they didn't want to force something so important onto him. Especially when this "newcomer" was lucky enough to not be named by Belos. So the freedom of choice felt pretty important to consider for his ability to built his own identity and carve his own destiny.

But.. Cheese was litteraly "born yesterday" and he didnt understand the language yet. At all. So, of course, when he started to learn some words, he chose to identify himself with something he really really likes. And.. this thing he related to happened to be a block of yellow dairy product with holes in it and a funny taste. He is too much of a cheese lover.

Later on he often "changed his name" from Cheese to Onion to Gerald to Boot to Nike... Uhhh..., it was difficult to say the least. But the name Cheese stuck with others, so now it is how he is called. Although many end up pronouncing it as "Chez", which is valid too.

As you can see on my art, Cheese doesn't have his legs rotting like the body in the s3 ep2. Thats because it was part of his "mortal wound". In otherwords, Chez wouldn't be able to live with parts damaged like that. Usually all that left after the person's "mortal wound" after the resurection in the temple is a small light scar. But, even if Cheese got his body fully in tact now, the bottom part of his body nonetheless seems to be paralised. Thats why he requires a wheelchair to move around the Isles. (I wont deny the possibility of him getting a jetpack or something like that so he could move thought the air on his "loyal carriage". Imagine that vine video but with Cheese. He would be very enthusiastic about creating and building shit like that.) Chez also happens to be mute due to his damaged throat and vocal chords also from Belos'es possession. Thats why he has that little oracle stone on his hair-clip that helps him speak his thoughts out loud! He wasn't always able to use it, so he was also taught how to use sign language. His siblings were glad to learn it along with Cheese so they could finally chat.

I was initially imagining Cheese to be enthusiastic about sports. Especially since the grimwalker body in FTF looked quite buff weirdly enough XD. But he slowly grows to be much more than "CHEESE IS SPEED". Perharps our discovery of him as a character reflects his own journey of getting to know himself. Chez came to be as a blank slate. I guess he is technocally the happiest grimwalker in this AU, since he never experience any kind of abuse and has a loving family that treats him with respect even if he doesn't understand everything yet.

It was my first time drawing a wheelchair I think. So I really heavily referenced just to get its structure right. Maybe when I draw Chez again I will decorate it to his liking. He would probably enjoy some stickers on it. Especially of space and ships. Or Cheese could have a Starwars (or however that franchise is called in TOH universe) merch on it! He likes spaces, because it is full of infinite possibilities.

Thank you, @crypticpara and @talisman975 for inspiration!

[sweetracha]

-Size training with chan and changbin, them being so big and buff got me feeling some kinda way. Just imagining dom! chan benig so nice and soft while you try to fit him down your throat. MehAps anal? slowly working your way up to bigger sized dildos until you're ready for either one of their cocks? Just reader being small and them forcing their dick into you- so basically big dick energy with both of them- ok thank youuu <333

This ask has me all sorts of messed up! Anon I am so thankful for you.

Okay I wasn't sure how to break this down, so I am going to do both boys separately than Poly!

Chan would be so caring and sweet when size training you. I feel like it all started from the first time you two were getting intimate. It ended early because you couldn't take him all the way, he was just too big. While he had a short-lived ego boost, he saw the pain in your eyes and immediately stopped. After a long discussion about insecurities and wants, you two decided to size train. He bought a bunch of toys in varying sizes but never bigger than himself. You two had a schedule set for when you would begin stretching. I picture him sitting against the headboard with you sat in-between his legs. He would slowly draw circles on your clit and ease in the toy, only praises left his mouth. Chan was concerned when you said you were ready to try him again but was completely impressed when he was able to sink right in. While he may still be praising you... his movements were punishing.

Changbin would see size training as a sort of exercise. He likes to push the limits of his body through working out and when he saw you struggling to deep throat him, he got a wicked smile on his face. It was a regimented routine he had set up for you. Every time you would go down on him for training, he would set up reps. Half his dick in your mouth for 10 seconds, pull back for 5, then repeat. After each "work out" Binnie would take such good care of you. Just like muscle training, you needed to rest and respect your body. That way when your neck session came, he could push you just a bit more. You didn't even realize until after he finished that you managed to let his fuck your throat like a doll.

Now the two of them together would be so hot. I think the two of them would size train you for anal. They both get so jealous of who gets to ruin you, so why not at the same time. They bought the cutest set of plugs with different gem colors to represent sizes. Depending on the day, one of the boys would lay your naked body over their lap while the other spread you open and nestled in the plug. It was always loving touches and sweet words. Once it was secured, they made sure you came at least twice. one from each of them. They were getting ready to set up for you next plug when they noticed one was missing...the largest size. When they found you sat all pretty in bed with a glimmering pink plug, the two boys lost it. Now it was a competition of who got to use it first.

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Heyy, I just wanted to know if you could write a story with rhea x Fem! reader where the reader is ashamed of her body hair and Rhea comforts her,ending with a big smut✨️

Sorry for this request but my body hair makes me very uncomfortable and I need to read something like this🥺

don’t be sorry! body hair is normal and everyone has it! society has told us (women esp) that body hair is bad but it’s not, it’s natural! you can do whatever you want with it, shave it, don’t shave it, hell braid it if it gets long enough lol, i know it’s easier said than done but never be ashamed for things that happen naturally as a human being but don’t worry friend, i got you.

Ever, Ever

rhea x fem!reader

content: talks of body hair but then turns to hot sexy times with hot buff goth wrestler gf ooooo (slight choking, praise, oral, fingering, squirting hehe)

You giggle at a funny post you found on instagram, “look!” you turn the phone to Rhea who was sitting beside you on the bed.

She was doing some work on her computer but she turned to look, “oh, that’s a good one,” she laughed with you.

The two of you continue to sit in comfortable silence as she types away and you scroll away. You both loved nights like this, nothing going on, just being together, relaxing and enjoying each other’s presence. It was a good reset for both of you, with your nine to five job and her crazy one, it was good to just be.

She slammed the enter key one last time and closed her laptop, “finally,” she sighed as she placed it on the side table. “Do you want a snack?”

“Ooooh, yes please!” you smile at her.

“I’ll be right back,” and she walked out of the bedroom.

You smile thinking that there’s no where else you’d rather be. You’re with the love of your life, having a night in, doing absolutely nothing, well, now you were. She comes back in with a lot of things.

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted or what you wanted so I brought options,” her arms were full with cheez-its, fruit snacks and who knows what else.

“Oh,” you chuckle, “thank you, baby.”

She displayed them all out over the bed, she gestured dramatically over them twinkling her fingers to show you the options.

You decide on the fruit snacks, two bags because one is never enough.

“Good choice,” she said picking up the protein bar.

“C’mon, live a little,” you joke to her.

“Fine, fine,” she throws the bar down and taps her chin thinking. Finally she chooses the potato chips, “better?” she held them up, they were still the healthy ones.

“Yes, thank you,” you laugh.

“I’ll take the rest back,” she gathers up the remaining snacks and heads back to the pantry.

The two of you sit on your phones, enjoying your respective snacks, showing each other funny tiktok’s, memes, and cool drawings people made of her.

Her hand landed on your thigh, but you thought nothing of it, she loved to be touching you whenever she could.

You didn’t notice her put her phone down but you did notice when she moved herself closer to you and started kissing your arm. You kissed her head in a response but she kept going. Gently kissing up your arm until she made it to your neck. Wave after wave of pleasure sent through your body with every kiss. She took your phone out of your hand, that you weren’t really paying attention to anymore, and put it on your side table.

The hand on your thigh moved up to gently caress your hot center, “c’mon baby,” she whispered.

You moaned softly into her touch but suddenly stopped her, “no wait-”

“What’s wrong? You okay?” she immediately pulled her hand away.

“Yeah, it’s just… you’ve been away so I haven’t, uh… shaved,” your face was red from embarrassment.

“Baby,” her face softened, “I love every part of you no matter what. A little hair isn’t gonna hurt me.”

“But I don’t want-”

“Unless you got some crazy thing going on down there, like teeth or something,” she chuckled, “I don’t mind one bit.”

You tried to talk, “But it’s gro-”

She put a finger over your mouth, “It’s not gross, it’s not ugly, it’s normal. Do you care when I don’t shave?”

She didn’t move her finger so you just shook your head.

“Exactly,” she finally removed her finger, “if you don’t want to continue, that’s perfectly fine, but unshaven or not, I’m still gonna love you,” she smiled.

You gave her a weak smile, “are you sure? Because it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Baby…I promise.”

You stared at her for second to make sure she was really sure, “okay.”

“Now, can I get back to what I was doing or…” she said jokingly.

You giggle, “yes, please.”

Giving you a devilish grin, she bows her head to kiss your neck again, leaving soft slow pecks on your skin. She moved herself on top of you straddling your hips. Your hand tangled into her hair keeping it out of her way.

She nibbled at your ear until she whispered, “You’re so…” she kissed your jaw, “hypnotizing…” she kissed down your jawline, “and beautiful…” one of her hands snuck to your neck and gently squeezed, “and…” her hand clutched to your neck hard as she looked you in the eyes, “don’t you ever, ever think otherwise.”

Your eyes were wide but your smile was huge at the sensation, “yes Mami,” you choke out.

“Good,” she barked as she released her hand, “my sweet girl,” she then she dragged her hand over your shirt down to your pajama shorts, sneaking it under the waistband. Her fingers found your dripping center, “look at you,” she gently swiped her fingers against you, “barely even started and you’re already ready for me.” She teased at your entrance, but decided against it. So she settled for teasing your clit instead.

Your back arched as a long moan left you, “mmmmcan’t help it,” you released your breath. One of your hands was behind her neck while the other was on the back of her thigh pushing her in closer, digging your nails into the tattoos as she continued to work her magic. You pull her neck down so that she could kiss you, and that she did.

You didn’t expect it to be, but it was hot and sloppy and you begged for more. Her hand below went faster as the kissing became more intense. You made small whines into her mouth between labored breaths. Her lips finally let go of you as she pulled her hand out.

You huffed at the loss, but she quickly got off of you and yanked your shorts and underwear off and threw them onto the floor. Without hesitation, she spread your legs and immediately began to lap at your wet folds.

“Fuck,” you groan as your hands found their way back to her hair.

Her arms curled around your thighs, “you taste so good, babygirl,” then she began to suck on your clit.

You tightened your grip at her words as your eyes pinched closed but you could feel her smiling against you. You were squirming but she was holding you perfectly still with her insane strength. She finally let go of one of your legs, teasing her fingers at your entrance once more.

“Mhmm…yessss, please!” you whine.

“You know I love when you beg,” and she pushes her way inside.

“Oh fuck,” as your back arched again.

She was pumping in and out of you at a steady pace as she continued to use her tongue on your pulsing bud. You writhed under her grip but she kept your hips still. The pressure in your stomach was quickly building, “harder, mami, please!”

“Oh, you want it rough today, princess?”

“God yes, please,” you beg.

“As you wish,” she grinned.

You barely noticed but in one second she removed her hand, flipped it over, plunged back into you so now the heel of hand was facing up and her two middle fingers were pumping into you at an outrageous pace. She kissed your thigh before she maneuvered herself back on top of you. She kissed you, making sure that you could taste yourself on her tongue.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, then began to bite, rolling your skin in her teeth, “you’re doing so well,” she whispered, she sucked at your skin not caring if she left a mark, “you feel so good on me,” she said in your ear.

You were untangling beneath her, your eyes were in the back of your head, your hands were gripping at anything you could reach, her arms, her back, her hair, the sheets. You barely had any air in your lungs, your hips were riding her hand that was setting the ungodly pace, trying so hard to keep up.

“I know you want to, baby,” she grinned at the noises that were spilling out of you, “I’m not going to stop you,” her voice was calm and sultry, it was driving you insane, more than you already were.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” you screamed.

“C’mon baby!” she yelled over your deafening whines.

You gasped for air as you curled up with your mouth wide open and your eyes rolled back, “FFFUUCKK!!” the pressure inside of you released so violently that you slammed your head onto the pillow beneath.

She immediately pulled her hand out of you as you squirted all over the sheets and her hand that couldn’t move fast enough.

“Holy fuck,” you heard her say over your loud moan. She plunged back into you when you were done and continued her pace smiling from ear to ear, “again,” was all she said. Though this time, her free hand found its way back to your neck and squeezed.

Your hands gripped her arm as you gave her a wicked smile. Just a minute later, the pressure was back and ready to be released again. You groaned, whined and moaned as well as you could under her hand.

“Just one more time, princess, one more for me,” she commanded.

You followed orders and the knot in your stomach untangled again. You couldn’t say anything but a loud scream of pleasure, as she removed her hand, still not fast enough, and you squirted once more.

She released the grip on your neck and you immediately pulled her in for another sloppy kiss. Your lips smacked as she pulled away, “You’re so fucking hot,” she breathed.

You couldn’t fathom saying anything you were so weak so you settled for the wicked smile. You kissed her once more before going completely limp underneath her.

She sat on her heels next to you. She looked the mess you made underneath your bottom half and chuckled, “We gotta wash the sheets.”

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ xᴠ - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ

pairing: neteyam x human!reader (part of cruel summer)

➽ a/n: i am writing this like two hours before i'm posting, and i'm in the worst mood of my life and so i'm sorry if it comes across in my writing. i guess that's one of the many downsides of writing something the day before posting hahah. anyway, i hope you still enjoy x also i can't stop writing neteyam and vol apparently apologies

➽ words: 1k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: a bit of choking, wimpering, subby!neteyam (switch!neteyam), size kink, a little angsty by the end

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

He was so much bigger than you. So much bigger. His body towered over yours, over both Na’vi and humans alike. You remember every stage, every milestone celebrated. You remember his growth spur, when you were both 17, when he went from tall to freakishly tall, taller than his dad, much taller than his mum and his siblings. You remember every muscle as it grew almost in front of your eyes, how he went from lean like his Omaticayan ancestry to buff and muscular like his human one. 

It was easy now, to remember, as you straddled his hips, the darkness your bestest friend and secret keeper, allowing you these moments, allowing you to feel him, every inch of him, how it felt to be drunk on the way his supple, soft skin felt against your palms, the way your nipples perked as they grazed his chest when you pressed your body tightly against his own. How facile it was to get lost in him and in the feelings he elicited in you day after day, night after night, but particularly now, in these fleeting moments, in the few and far between moment in which it felt like he was... yours. Yours to have and to own, yours to lose and yours to love.

You licked a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw, smirking at the way his laboured breath got somehow heavier, thoroughly enjoying feeling wholly and completely in control for a change. 

“What’s that, Teyam? Do you have something to say?”

You loved when he was mean, and dominating. You loved when he fucked you in public, when he made you cry on his cock, when he forced your thighs apart so you could make a mess all over his face, you loved submitting to him in any and every way you knew how. But this… this had its moments, too. There was something… irresistable about the way he was squirming under your much smaller body, his hips bucking in the air, desperate for any ounce of relief that you could bestow upon him, but… you haven’t had your fun yet. 

“P-please, Vol. Fuck.”

Your touches were deliberate, your kisses strategically placed, slow and intentional, taking your time caressing and licking, biting and sucking all the way from his chest to his navel, down his happy trail, before focusing on his inner thighs, so close yet so far from the one place he truly needed you. 

“Please what, Teyam? What do you need?” 

A whimper, pushed past his plump, navy lips, as his arm covered his eyes unceremoniously was all he could muster in response, and you laughed against his groin, feeling near guilty at how much enjoyment you were drawing out of his pain. So, mustering as much self-control as you still had in you, you wrapped your delicate fingers against the intricate work of his knotted loincloth, undoing it and allowing his cock, thick and veiny and impossibly big to slap against his defined abdomen, leaving you a nearly drooling mess. It was hard to remember what you were trying to achieve, that you were meant to be in charge when there he was, rock hard and throbbing in your palm, spurts of precum falling down the shaft and interlacing with your fingers that would not meet as you stroked him from base to tip, mouth watering at the sight, at the way you couldn't wait until he was buried so deeply in you, it felt like he'd split you in half.

You knew it would hurt, taking him like this, topping him, riding him, but oh, that pain, the pain of being filled to the brim, of feeling him in your belly, of watching as he pushed the bulge his cock made down with his huge hands until you screamed... it was so, so worth it. You felt yourself dripping on him as soon as you aligned your folds to his tip, watching intently as he removed his arm covering his beautiful features to watch you, his eyes as wide as his pupils as they took you in, your naked body he worshipped, focusing on every inch of you before stopping at where your bodies met. You threw your head back as you began lowering yourself onto him, stifling a cry at the overwhelming sensation, at how the pleasure mixed with ache in a swirling, intoxicating amalgamation that threatened to completely unmoor you from this plane of existence and allow you to float among another, a higher one... a greater one. There was a small inadvertent gasp that filled the silence of the room when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing on your jaw until you felt the air trapped in your lungs.

"Don't. Look at me, Vol. Keep your eyes on me while you ride me."

And so you did. And you came, hard and fast, and watched as he whimpered and moaned beneath you, thrusting upwards into you uncontrollably, over and over, unable to stop himself and the way having your tight little cunt was making his mind empty with no thoughts but one - a desperate desire to fill you up with his cum, over and over, until you were nothing but him, until his scent was so permeated with your own it was impossible to distinguish the two apart anymore.

He would never have you. You'd never be his. No matter how hard he wants you, in every way, forever and for always, that little fact, harsh and cruel, was indisputable. He would never be able to take you to the tree of souls and mate you, he'd never be able to form the sacred bond with you. Your kids will never run around the village and their laughter will never fill his soul with the happiness he only now knew when he was in your presence. This, this fucked up love he held so hidden in his heart, watching your eyes roll in the back of your head as the pleasure overcame your senses, whispering quiet, unspoken whispers of i love you, i need you, i wish things could be different... it would have to be enough.

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl@linydoll @the-mourning-moon@kasai-https @dvxsja (if your tag doesn't work pls check your settings x)

[minnielvrr]

Routines

Lee: Hyunjin Ler: Changbin Word Count: 865

A/N: Ahh I really hope this is okay😣Hope you guys enjoy this~🤗💖

“Ready?” Changbin inquired, his hands poised delicately over Hyunjin’s waist. The younger boy squirmed in place, little giggles of anticipation already bubbling up in his throat. “Y-yeah!”

Given the number of times they’d done this, Hyunjin thought he’d be immune by now—or at least have developed some degree of resistance.

But he remained just as ticklish as the day their little ‘pre-performance routine’ had begun. They hadn't missed a single day!

At his affirmation, Binnie’s fingers began wandering over his torso. Gentle strokes and light nips at familiar areas had Hyunjin falling back against Binnie's buff chest, arms pressed tightly to his sides.

His body shook with laughter, his hands grabbing feebly onto Changbin’s wrists—though only to hold them. “Tihihickles! It tihickles, Binniehehehe~” he whined through his giggles.

“Aww, does it? Poor baby~ Does it tickle a lot? Hm?” Binnie teased, playing along.

His fingers skittered over the crisp outfit Jinnie wore, digging into his lower ribs with just enough pressure to drive Hyunjin out of his mind, but still light enough not to ruffle his clothes.

“NohoHOho teahEHEHesing!! You proMIHIHIsed!” Hyunjin’s protests were met with an adoring, “We both know you love it this way~” Changbin made kissy noises, making the artist snort at his antics.

He squirmed, feet stomping on the ground as he tried to rein in his sounds so as not to draw too much attention to them. He was lucky they were on the couch, cause he was pretty sure his legs would’ve given out otherwise.

Today, the artist seemed a little ruffled, covering his face and holding back the happy noises that usually told Changbin just how much he was enjoying this too.

“Ahahahahaha ihihit’s sOHOHo bahAHAD theheHEHere!!” Hyunjin's body arched, his laughter growing bubblier the higher Binnie's fingers reached.

But Binnie wasn't satisfied with only hearing 70% of his Hyunjin's laughter. He wanted it all, he wanted to hear the artist’s loud cackles and deep laughs that only came out when Binnie got him bad.

“Feeling shy now, Jinnie? We’ve done this so many times and you’re still this flustered? So cute~,” He cooed, leaning forward to blow in Jinnie’s ear.

His fingers crawled higher, now alternating between scribbling and vibrating into the artist’s upper ribs.

Hyunjin went ballistic. It was way too close to one of his death spots and Binnie only rarely went that far during their routines.

“AHH NO! HYUHUNG NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Hyunjin threw his head back, feet skidding on the floor as he struggled.

"You always try to squirm away when I go here... but it won’t help this time!" And just as he predicted, Hyunjin found himself twisting his torso away, flailing wildly, his head thrown back with the chaotic laughter that Binnie seemed intent on hearing.

"There’s that beautiful laugh! Did you know, Jinnie, that every time you laugh like this, it makes me want to tickle you even more?”

“HEHEHEHE nohoHOHo theyhehe’ll HEaher mE!! AHHahahHAHAahaha!” Binnie had unlocked his belly laughs. The dam had broken and now all Hyunjin could do was squeal and squirm.

Then Changbin was wrapping an arm around his middle and his free hand was stuffed up Hyunjin’s armpit with a mused, "remember last time when you couldn't handle it here? I wonder if it’s still just as bad...”

It was just as bad. In fact, Hyunjin was convinced it felt WORSE. But Binnie wasn’t in the mood for mercy or any form of leniency. “C’mon, arms up Jinnie! You know the drill~,” he teased.

With a practiced ease, Jinnie’s hands went up albeit shakily, and slid behind Binnie’s back. Changbin pressed his shoulders to the back of the couch, effectively trapping the artists arms in place.

And then all hell broke lose. They had about 15 minutes left before they were supposed to be on stage so Binnie decided to go in for the kill.

His hands were everywhere. Digging and raking and wiggling at every spot he could reach.

Poor Hyunjin was thrown into hysterics. He tugged desperately at his arms, flailing wildly, shrieks mixed in with his loud boisterous laughter. It was hilarious.

“ OHO MYhyHYHY GAHAHADS!! I CAHAHAN’T TAHAKE IT! IT’S SOHOHO BAHAD!! BINNIE PLEHEHEASE!!” Hyunjin begged through uncontrollable laughter.

Changbin cackled along, amused by his reactions. He loved hearing Hyunjin’s voice like this—he sounded so heartwarmingly adorable. This was the boost Binnie needed to perform the way he did on stage.

And (not so)secretly, a vital part of Jinnie’s routine as well. The laughter dispelled all worries plaguing his mind and allowed his to fly across their stages and give it his best.

“ENAHAHAOUGH!! CAHAHAHA— CAHAN’T TAHAKE ANYMOHOHORE AHAHAHAHA!!” Binnie stopped just before he knew the tears would come.

He let the artist slump against him as he gently massaged the spots he’d tickled. Hyunjin melted under his soft ministrations, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

And then the rest of the kids spilled into the waiting room. They knew all too well about the two lovebirds’ little ritual and always gave them some privacy.

And then they were striding to the stage. Everyone knew they were gonna eat this one up too. That was a Skz trademark after all~

my first scheduled fic hehehe~😋

[majokothesmol]

I'm going to preface this idea with a content warning for body horror, (or at least reference to body dysmorphia,) because it's meant to be... Horror.

Cool? Cool.

So I've been seeing some stuff about how people draw Kieran. Sometimes he's a twig, sometimes he's got dark skin, sometimes he's chubby, sometimes he's trans, sometimes he has very round eyes, sometimes he's a phantump, sometimes he's an edgelord, sometimes he's got scars, sometimes he's Ogrepon, and sometimes he's got acne. I love all iterations and interpretations of him, especially how different each one of them looks.

Most art has cute lil brother Kieran. But it's also pretty common to see Kieran portrayed as muscular. Like, he's got abs and lean muscle. My gut reaction was "This kid's 15 at the oldest. Suuuure." But then it became such an interesting idea to me. Like yes. Kieran wishes he was this buff. Maybe this is his immature power fantasy where's he's big and strong and cool because he's 15. Or even better, this is how the Protag sees him. (Assuming they like Kieran in that way.) Of course he's gotta be a little handsome in their eyes.

I can't begin to explain how much joy and endearment I find in those ideas.

Then I started really thinking about it. (This is where things are going to get body-horror related.) Realistically, (and cannon to the game) Kieran has not been taking care of himself. He hasn't been eating right, or sleeping, and his dorm is a mess. Keep that in mind, especially the part about not eating well. Okay? Okay.

Now imagine this: You're seeing Kieran again for the first time in at least a month. At the very least, you're expecting sad little Kiki; sullen, jealous, maybe possessed, and burnt out. But when you finally get a good look at him again... His eyes have dark circles from not sleeping, he's a lot more snappy, and his jacket is falling off his shoulders. In fact, all his clothes look a little baggy. Now imagine he takes off the jacket. He seems muscular, yes. But it's just like how he seems stronger. Once you get a good look at him, it's not that he gained muscle. It's just that he lost that much fat. He's muscle, skin, and bone.

Do you see the vision I'm having?? The dawning moment of realization, the horror of seeing just how many things he cut out of his life to get stronger? The angst potential?? The character development. The hurt/comfort that is in this concept?? Do you also see the absolute comedy of a Buff Kieran being daydreamed about by Protag? The potential of wholesome workout buddies?

[dogbunni]

listen im a rabid nensai truther and an avid kubosai enjoyer so it is now time for me to spread to u all the truth as it has been revealed to me: saiki has two hands and deserves two (2) extremely buff and overprotective dumbass boyfriends. nendo and kuboyasu would fill 2 very different emotional needs for saiki I think. the both of them in tandem would be good for him. they shake hands and call each other boyfriends in law.

saiki goes on motorcycle rides w kuboyasu holding on extra tight head pressed against his back and kuboyasu always takes the time to see that saiki's helmet is secured properly and that he's zipped into his leathers (that kuboyasu bought for him) to make sure he is safe and protected, and saiki keeps his arms wrapped around him, ready to use his own body to keep kuboyasu safe if anything were to happen (neither of them are guys who need protecting. they protect each other with everything they have.) they play video games together, mortal kombat maybe and saiki loses on purpose and says dead pan, "oh no, I lost. I think we should kiss about it" Kuboyasu is committed and devoted and will tell anyone who'll listen just who his man is and why he loves him.

nendo takes saiki to pet shops to look at the rodents. he likes when saiki "makes up little voices" for the rats and narrates their thoughts. saiki has genuine fun being able to share the telenovela level drama that unfolds within these rodent cages. nendo politely pretends that he doesn't know about saiki's powers, and praises his storytelling. they get coffee jelly and nendo never eats his, he natters away about unimportant things while saiki inhales his coffee jelly and then slides his own across. they get ramen and nendo has saiki try a bite of his food every time, even though he always orders the same thing. they go to see reruns of old classics at the cinema, and sit at the back so nendo can misquote every line. (Luke, I am your mother) nendo is ridiculously tactile and always has a hand around saiki's waist, over his shoulders, in his hair. he dabs food from the corner of saiki's mouth gently with his thumb, takes one of saiki's hands in both of his own and draws lazy circles in his palm and absent mindedly massages the joints, he turns saiki's head from side to side gently by the chin just to get a better look at him-because he could look at saiki all day and never get bored.

They lay on the floor of someone's bedroom together all three of them, a saiki sandwich, saiki wears his ring and feels small and tucked away, like his powers can't reach him, and someone nuzzles into the back of his neck, and he is so cozy and cared for and loved.

saiki has two hands <3

[delightfully-deranged-dagur]

TD OCs Redesigns part 2! At long last!

Lulu

This Clown didn't change much in concept but she definitely changed in design.

Previously I already made a more casual look for her when she's not performing, and that became the basis for her redesign. Her old outfit will be repurposed for her performance outfit. Still need to draw that.

Besides that she got a new hairstyle! And a hint of that Pinkie Pie inspired front swirl.

Madileighn

The Influencer had a massive overhaul from her 1st look to her 2nd. The first look I've actually recycled for her mom's design. Who I'll post here eventually.

Anyway Madi got a warmer yellow tone, some bangs and a shorter coat. She's still looking fabulous!

Marlo

The Prankster kept a lot of his original elements. Purple + green colors, curly black hair and a bomb on his clothes.

The hoodie became a jacket. The hair got more sharper in the back and the bomb was moved to his shirt. His shorts and nose kept changing but I finally settled on something I like.

Olive

The Shy Doormat stayed very consistent in design. The clothes just became baggier, the nose changed shape and her colors more muted.

But she still hates the spotlight and is still a lesbian disaster.

Parvati

Immediately, the Mythology Buff became more tomboy-ish. Her features became a lot more sharper and a bit more androgynous.

Her outfit stayed the mostly it just evolved. Less cluttered details. A more eye pleasing color pallette. All changes for the better.

Phoenix

He's a menace this one. Definitely the one that gave me the most trouble redesigning.

Like Parvati I removed a lot of unnecessary details and gave him a more eye pleasing pallette. His skintone got a cooler undertone to better see the line work.

And the big change. His hair. Less knock-off Hobie Brown and more his own person. I'm very thankful for my friend Howai for giving me the idea for locs.

Rachel

Ah Rachel. The Rodeo Star. Who actually started out as a pathetic Heather Wannabe. She became something way different. Now an antagonist more in line with Bowie.

Her design barely changed from V2 to V3. Just changed her bangs direction and gave her abs. Why mess with perfection?

I just realized Rachel gained boots and lost her sandals, while Madileighn lost her boots and gained sandals. Huh. Fun trade-off.

Raheem

The Oblivious Hearth Throb is still as good looking as ever.

Now he gets to take his hair down and really make people swoon. Not that he realizes.

I basically made his outfit more warm weather oriented then cold. Also, he went from green to gray. A more neutral color helps him stand out from the cast.

Sasha

Now if Rachel isn't the one with the least changes. Then it's Sasha. I struck gold with the first design. And she barely changed after that.

The 2 big differences are her hair, from flowing waves to bantu knots. And her concept.

Originally she was a singer going on TD to promote herself. Now she's a nepo-baby who's uncle got her onto the show. She doesn't realize her well connected, rich girl experiences aren't universal.

Tony

Last and certainly never least. The Short-Tempered Greaser.

Tony's outfit barely changed. Just some color adjustments. But his body definitely changed. The 2nd time I designed as someone short and not just shrunk someone down.

The big difference this time is his hair. I love the pompadour+swirl but I wanted something different to differentiate him from how i draw Johnny Spirit. So he got a quaff. I think that's the right word.

Anyway lastly his pose makes his personality more clear. He's cranky and impatient.

Thank you for joining me and listen to me ramble about these guys.

I'm hoping to get the first chapter of my OC season out sometime this year. So stay tuned.

[vincent-is-vintage]

hi! just discovered your page, you art is gorgeous. just a question though! why do you draw the characters the way you do?

i might just be forgetful and don’t remember the descriptions of them in the book..but i was curious! much love. i love the art tons.

Hi 👋🏾 thanks for the love

Yeah there’s not a lot of description on the characters and their physical appearance so that’s just a fun place to take liberties! Tbh I use to draw the Gatsby gang just like the Baz 2013 versions but then when I was redesigning them for fun I asked myself how I thought they might look from my imagination. Lots of tweaking and changes of each character over the course of 3ish years and these are the designs I came up with.

Gatsby being Lebanese was playfully suggested by my best friend who’s also part Lebanese and I have 2 Desi friends so he kinda took form that way. Ppl often speculate that he’s mixed and white passing and I dunno, why not just make him actually dark skin for once and play with that concept? Plus him being mixed race plays a lot into the timeline with immigration in the 20s in my story as well as his mental psyche

Jordan is Afrolatine. At first I just had her Black like me but wanted to make her Latine as well for reasons.

Daisy and Nick I pinned down from old Hollywood stars for funsies. Daisy being a Clara Bow IT girl knock off and Nick being a Gregory Peck nod. Daisy was pretty skinny (Gatsby too) at first but I dunno, I just got tired of every body type lookin the same and figured yeah why not make them chubby and muscular in some areas? Nick I added scars to recently, actually, cause him leaving the battlefield with nothing?? Didn’t feel right to me. A physical and mental scar haunts him now. I also made them both Irish cause again, why not pin down lineage and play with that in a very lineage centric time in America?

Tom probably remains the closest to the 2013 Baz characters. I just really see him as a big buff southern Louisiana man with a preacher’s commanding speech pattern. And that’s partly why I made him a politician! He’s a nod to another old Hollywood star, Clark Gable.

And Meyer is literally Giancarlo Esposito haha! But yeah I also made him Black and Jewish to see how that identity could be played with and portrayed

My retelling has A LOT to do with outside perception and inner struggle/ideas of identity so their background and race and lineage is a big part of the story.

[master-sass-blast]

Let's Call it a Draw Between Us -Chapter One: Defeat.

Author's Note (uploading multiple works tonight, so I'm slapping this on all the fics I'm posting):

Uh... hi.

It's been a very long time. Longer than I'd hoped for, but suffice to say, this year hasn't gone according to plan.

In sum, I had a mental breakdown in Spring, got diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in July, my husband totaled his car in September, I was sick for the whole month of October, my husband found a new (used) car... and then hit a deer at the end of November, and the insurance company ruled that it was totaled because the repair costs would be worth more than the value of the car.

Yeah.

There's been other shit, too, but part of what I've learned with the new diagnosis is that my body does not regulate or cope with stress well -which I sort of already knew, but it's to a vaster extent than I'd known. Essentially, this past year has just taken me out at the knees, and it will probably take my body a while to regulate and function well again.

I still want to write and post fics, but I now have a lot of anxiety around not being able to write and post fics (along with other things that my befuckened body interferes with), which is just... a lot. And frustrating.

I'm not throwing in the towel. But I also can't promise any sort of posting schedule moving forward. Right now, my body and brain are just too unpredictable, and I have to make sure I'm taking care of my basic needs (like eat and hygiene and sleeping, it's literally that difficult to deal with) so that I'm physically okay.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope to see you more regularly in the coming New Year, but if not, know that I'm okay and still kicking, but that my body's just kicking back for the time being.

Much love and best of wishes to you all for the New Year!

Summary: Sevika pines. She drinks. Then she competes in some arm wrestling and makes some very sapphic eye contact.

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

Or maybe she wins all three times. It depends on your point of view.

(Basically just a very self-indulgent fic that spawned from an idea about Sevika and a big, buff Reader that I'll probably never get around to writing in full, so I wrote this as a way of honoring that idea.)

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

Speaking of… Sevika leans against the bar and snaps her fingers at Thieram. “Whisky, neat. Half a glass.” She narrows her eyes when he raises his eyebrows at her, then scoffs and goes back to staring across the room once he jumps to. Idiot.

She hadn’t expected much out of you after she first met you. Properly met you, that is. Technically, her first introduction to you had been in an underground fighting ring stocked by Stillwater’s hardier, more opportunistic patrons. You’d made quick work of the other prisoners, but Silco had wanted a proper evaluation before deciding whether or not to scoop you up, so in she’d gone. She’d socked you in the jaw, you’d suplexed her through a shitty wooden table. Good times.

She hasn’t had any complaints about you. You’re quiet, compliant. You don’t get drunk on the job, and you don’t start fights with the rest of the crew.

But that seems to be about it. You don’t really hang out with anyone else. You’ll talk to her every now and then, but otherwise you keep to yourself. You don’t play cards with the others, shoot pool, or share drinks. No swapping of stories, or exchanging inside jokes. From what she can tell, you keep to yourself like a hermit in an invisible cave.

Like a shadow, she reflects as you hang back in your usual spot (towards the back of the bar, tucked into darkness, where no one bothers you). If you’re not watching it, you forget it’s there.

She’d thought that was it. She’s seen plenty of people leave Stillwater and fall into violence, or inebriation, or withdrawn sullenness. She figured you were a tragic statistic –yet another to add to Zaun’s tally.

And then…

Her upper lips curls when Jinx comes bounding down the stairs. She tracks the blue-haired sprite across the bar, over to where you’re sitting, then scoffs when you greet Jinx with a small smile before glaring down at her glass.

It’s like watching a flower unfurl after weeks of frost. You smile and open up towards the sun of Jinx’s exuberance like you’ve been doing it your whole life, like there’s nothing more natural to you than beaming at Silco’s brat. And, sure, Jinx is a kid and she’s kind of cute, for a demented gremlin. But she’s still Jinx.

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

You’d called it kismet when she’d asked why you tolerate Silco’s batty brat. You’d lost your baby sister when you’d gone into prison, Jinx had lost Vi after the factory explosion, and then, years later, the universe had brought you two together and balanced everything back out, or fucking whatever.

She supposes it’s a decent arrangement. Jinx isn’t nearly as vicious and off kilter with you around, and you get all soft, and mushy, and happy, and pretty–

Sevika motions to Thieram to top her glass up again. Fuck me.

You’re protective of Jinx, too. Not that the brat can’t handle herself (Sevika has her new arm to prove that). But, she can still remember the night Finn’s gang had crowded into the Last Drop. They’d been obnoxious, and overbearing, and more than a little sloshed. Jacen, one of Finn’s “good buddies,” had slapped Jinx across the ass as a joke.

He’d done it in front of Silco. He was a dead man regardless.

Before anyone –even Jinx–could react, though, you’d lurched out of your chair, grabbed the sledgehammer you keep with you in lieu of a knife or a gun, and taken two long strides across the bar. “Jacen!”

Sevika’s core clenches at the memory. She lets out a harsh breath, then gulps down half her drink.

The crimson, glittering spray of blood through the air had been beautiful. Like gems cascading through the air. Jacen’s face had caved in on one side from where you drove the head of the hammer all but through it. He’d dropped to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

She’d gotten herself off to the thought of it that very night. The fury in your eyes, the decisive, powerful movements of your body, the splatter of blood. She’d climaxed harder than she had in a long time.

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

She takes it without coughing or gasping. She’s been an expert for decades. Her jaw works as she finishes swallowing, and then she turns her head so she can watch you again.

You’re listening and nodding while Jinx rambles. There’s a certain attentiveness to your expression. Maybe it’s the angle of your eyebrows, or the soft, lax look of your jaw, or the brightness in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s a total abandonment from both the harsh, dominating fury she’s seen from you, and the skittish, withdrawn apathy.

Something soft and needy aches beneath her ribs as she watches you with Jinx. Sevika grits her teeth and exhales with practiced languor. I’ve gone fucking soft.

Sevika doesn’t consider herself possessive. She visits the brothel far too regularly, and has more than a handful of casual “situationships” with different ladies around Zaun to be possessive. She’s not monogamous, at least. She doesn’t think of other people as property. The children of Zaun don’t have the luxury of such affluent detachment.

But she wants you. It’s like this thing that sits beneath her ribs and crawls around inside her. It’s restless, and writhing, and it gnaws on her bones like a feral dog in the dark corner of an alley. It keeps her up at night with racing thoughts, vivid hopes, and half-formed “what ifs.”

It also keeps her up at night because, more often than not, she winds up masturbating to the thought of you –like some starstruck, gods-damned teenager.

She’s not used to wanting –not for companionship, at least. She wants her freedom, wants her equality, wants Zaun to stand strong against those fucking Piltie pigs… but that’s about Zaun. There’s a certain degree of detachment there. It’s not about Sevika personally, the woman who is renowned at the Gardens, beats everyone’s ass in cards, and can drink any citizen of Zaun under the table. The woman who got blown up and survived, lost an arm and came back stronger, and practically rules the Undercity with a steel spine and a –literal–iron fist.

She doesn’t want for company. Any attention she wants, she can easily get. She doesn’t stay up half the night yearning for anyone, much less a… lover? Companion? Affection?

Sevika knocks back the rest of her drink, but the burning in her throat pales in comparison to the ache in her chest. Janna, kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery.

She wants you. She wants to get her hands on you, get you underneath her (or on top of her, she’s not picky), and crack you open. She wants to drink you down, watch all that rage and goodness and steeliness and softness pour out. She wants to find its source and let it all wash over her. She wants it –needs it–for herself.

She wants it to be hers, even in part. She wants to bask in everything you keep held back by your silent, stoic mask.

There’s a headache forming behind her left eye. Probably from clenching her teeth; ever since the scars on her face crystalized, the muscles on the left side of her jaw have been more sensitive to strain.

She’s not used to this –this, this insipid, endless pining. It’s been going on for months now, and she’s just about ready to put a fork in her eye just to make it fucking end.

She barks at Thieram to get her another glass. Drink until you feel nothing. Zaun’s oldest remedy. She leans heavily against the bartop, then groans beneath her breath. Might as well buy the whole bottle. Against good sense, she resumes watching you. Warmth spreads through her chest when you grin at Jinx, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Y’know, somehow, I don’t think she’s going to figure out you like her just from you staring at her like a creep through a window.”

Sevika tenses, then glares at Ran as they sit down on the barstool next to hers. She picks up her refilled glass with her left hand and lifts it to her lips. “Fuck off. Nobody asked you.”

Ran stays where they are –a credit to their courage, at least. They smirk, then glance across the bar, to where you’re sitting, before returning their knowing, smug gaze to Sevika. “It’d be easier if you talked to her.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m just trying to save you the eyestrain.” They grin, thin and sharp, when Sevika flips them off, then lean against the wooden countertop. “Seriously, though. Why not ask her out?”

Sevika scowls and focuses on her whiskey glass, which is suddenly very interesting. “S’not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Sevika nearly kicks them off the stool and onto the floor (just for starters), but when she catches a look at Ran’s face and realizes they’re not teasing, she sighs and scrubs her face with her right hand. “I… I don’t know what she’d say.”

“Since when is that a problem for you?” Ran asks, face twisting with equal parts mirth and disbelief. When Sevika rolls her eyes, they shove her shoulder lightly. “It’s not like you ever have to work for it.” They pause, then smirk devilishly. “Maybe it’s weakened your game. Is that it?”

Sevika glares at them, then kicks Ran in the shin when they start snickering. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep. And for your information, you giggling bastard, that’s not the problem.” When Ran swallows their smile and motions for her to continue (while rubbing at their shin), she huffs. “I –I don’t know if she likes women.”

Ran’s visible eyebrow arches. “You’ve seen her.”

“...Duh.”

“She likes women.” When Sevika grimaces, Ran narrows their eyes. “You think otherwise?”

“I don’t think she likes anybody,” Sevika admits; doing so is somehow both a relief and condemning all in one. “You’ve seen her around people. She’s not exactly interested.”

“Not everyone likes a girl in their lap the way you do.”

“That’s not the point,” Sevika snarls under her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Then what is?”

It’s not easy to articulate. Sure, it’s an unspoken, universally acknowledged truth in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean anyone ever says it.

People go into Stillwater, and they come out –if they come out at all–different. Broken. You spent most of your life in that shithole –spent most of your teenage years there–at the anti-mercy of the wardens and other prisoners. It only stands to reason that any part of you inclined towards a relationship –or sex, or human contact–got snuffed out by the need to survive.

She feels bad for you, sometimes. Only when it’s too quiet, and she doesn’t have anything to do, and she’s not drunk and-or high enough to keep her thoughts from wandering to the dark, traitorously soft corners of her mind. She can almost see the child you started as –fiery, but so soft and good and kind–and it all got stomped out by the assholes ruling above them.

Sevika forces herself to loosen her death grip on the glass. Breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she hates picking shards out of the grooves of her mechanical fingers. “You haven’t seen her around Silver. She touched her shoulder–” she nods at you subtly “–without warning. I thought she was gonna break Silver’s fingers.”

“That’s Silver,” Ran says with a derisive curl of their upper lip. “She wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘boundaries’ if it rammed itself up her ass.”

They’re not wrong; the young woman’s brazen attitude is one of the things Sevika likes about Silver –albeit in small doses.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone,” Sevika murmurs, pathetic by her own standards. She’s worn down enough, though, to speak plainly. “She doesn’t go to any of the brothels, or take anyone home –and, yes, I’ve asked. She hates being touched, or being near anyone.” She presses her lips together to keep a pitiful smile back –she’d never forgive herself–then downs more whiskey. The burn of the liquor grounds her, brings her back to normalcy. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Ran nods minutely, mulling the evidence over. They watch you for a minute, hawkish in their scrutiny. “She sits with Jinx.”

“Jinx,” Sevika grits out (both because it’s Jinx, and because of the implication of Ran’s observation), “is a kid.”

“She is,” they agree, unfazed. “But, clearly, she’s not entirely opposed to all human contact.”

Like I don’t fucking know that. Sevika clenches her teeth together to keep from snapping. She’s observed the same damn thing, and it’s what keeps that whining, consuming, itching ember of hope burning in her chest.

Ran watches Sevika for a moment, then continues when she doesn’t say anything. “She sits with you.”

“That’s different,” Sevika says on reflex.

“I don’t think it is,” they press. “She never sits with anyone else. It’s either on her own, with Jinx, if she’s here, or with you.”

“I–”

“It’s not like she’s in it for playing cards,” Ran continues, staring Sevika down when she tries to argue. “And she doesn’t drink much, either.” They prop one elbow against the bartop. “Frankly, if you’re not here, then she isn’t. She only bothers hanging around if you’re here.”

“That’s–”

“She talks to you a lot, too,” Ran drawls, tone both teasing and reflective. “The rest of us are lucky to get a word or two from her, but she’ll talk the whole night with you.”

“I’m–”

“She lets you touch her, too. I’ve even seen her touch your shoulder in return.”

“If you interrupt me again–”

“Quit moping,” Ran says, voice flat and final. “Ask her out, or get over it.”

There’s a lot she could say to that. First of all, no one accuses her of moping. But she tucks it away for later; she doesn’t want to start kicking Ran’s ass in front of everyone, because that means the trigger point for said ass kicking will inevitably become common knowledge. Her feelings are nobody’s business but hers. Second of all, no one but Silco tells her what to do, and that’s only for work. She is the only damn master of her personal life, thank you very fucking much. Third, she knows for a fact that Ran spent nearly two years pining for one of Silco’s assassins, so they’ve got zero room to talk shit.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink, then motions for a third refill. “She’s not interested.”

Ran stares at her for a moment. Then, they scoff and shake their head. “You’re an idiot.”

Sevika glares harshly at them–

The door to Silco’s office creaks open, then thumps shut, followed by the man himself quietly descending the staircase to the bar floor. “Jinx.” He finishes buttoning his trench coat shut. “Pack up your things. We’re going home.”

“What?” Jinx’s face screws into the picture of teenage consternation. The baby fat on her cheeks makes her look younger still. “But–”

“It’s alright.” You quickly and neatly arrange her blueprints and drawings into a single stack, then hand them to the blue-haired youngster. “We can talk later, okay?”

Envy curls in Sevika’s gut when Jinx hugs you and you reciprocate with one arm. She turns away and hides her scowl behind her glass. Fucking brat.

Silco addresses the rest of his crew, “I trust that you’re all competent enough to avoid burning the place to the ground?” He arches his good eyebrow, then smirks when a mix of serious answers and half-drunk jokes rise up from the crowd. “Good enough.” He turns to face Sevika and tosses her a key. “You decide when the bar closes.”

She catches the key with her right hand, then flips Petrichor off with her left when they start grumbling under their breath about Sevika being in charge. She raises her glass to Silco in lieu of a spoken fair well, then knocks the rest of it back when he leaves out the rear with Jinx in tow. “Fucking finally. Theo! Put something good on for a change.”

“Are you having another?”

Sevika looks down as Silver –one of Silco’s personal spies–materializes at her side. She eyes the younger woman –her tight dress, high ponytail, and alluring make up–then looks away. Not with you. “Probably not. Best to take it easy.”

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

Sevika subtly kicks their stool, then looks down when Silver situates herself between her legs.

“You sure?” Silver pouts –which does stir something in Sevika, given Silver’s plush lips and deep-colored lipstick, but it’s not the something that she wants tonight. Silver bats her eyelashes a little, then smiles coyly. “Could be fun.”

Sevika bites back a scowl; she doesn’t want to put Silver off permanently –not yet, anyway. She wracks her brain for some sort of believable excuse that even Silver would accept–

As fortune would have it, one falls into her lap.

“–pretty sure I hit three-fifty yesterday–”

A collective chorus of groans alerts Sevika to the newest problem –chiefly, that Arik is bragging about his “gym gains.” Again.

Nevermind that she could break him over her knee like a fucking twig.

“It’s taken a lot of dedication and hard work.” Arik stretches and flexes, preening while everyone else rolls their eyes. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m probably the strongest member in the crew.”

Sevika arches one eyebrow in judgment; it’s ludicrous, considering that he’s ignoring her, the bouncers, Leon and Boris, and Lock, Silco’s mountainous, tattooed henchman that works security at the Shimmer plants. Why do we even put up with you?

Theo barks out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance, dickwad. No way in hell you’re the strongest person here. Pretty sure Miss Silver could knock you on your ass.”

“I’d take that bet,” Silver chimes in, twirling a lock of her straight, powder purple hair around her finger.

Arik pouts, looking like a spoiled teenager. “Oh, yeah? Who’s strongest, then? You?”

“No.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t have delusions of grandeur like you. Nah, it’s probably…” He looks around the bar, eyeing the bouncers, then Sevika, before twisting in his seat so he can see the back of the bar. “Actually, it’s probably Mouse, here.”

It takes you a moment to register the nickname foisted upon you by the rest of the crew. You lift your head, blink a few times, then straighten up. “What?”

“Cuntface here–” Theo jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Arik, who sputters and wheezes like a dying engine “–thinks he’s the strongest person in the crew. I wagered that title would probably go to you.”

“Oh.” You look around at everyone, then nod. “Okay.”

Arik huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s –there’s no way to prove that! Size isn’t everything!”

Sevika bites back a smirk as every single woman in the bar glances at each other and rolls their eyes.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Theo sneers at Arik. “Look at her, and look at you. It’s not going to be much of a competition.”

“You can’t prove that!” Arik insists, expression petulant.

Theo swivels in his seat to face you again. “Can you knock him out to shut him the fuck up?”

“No one’s doing that,” Sevika pipes up when everyone starts chattering and laughing excitedly. When people start grousing, she levels the room with a hard, final glare. “We’re not paying to get blood out of the floorboards. Again. If you all want to be idiots and knock the shit out of each other, you do it on your own time and floors, where I don’t have to clean up after your fucking mess.”

There’s a lull, and for a moment it seems like that’ll be it–

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

“Hey,” Ran drawls, eyes lighting up. “That could work.”

“Anything to get this moron to shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles.

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

When she realizes everyone is looking for her –presumably for permission, not that anyone’s ever bothered asking before–Sevika waves one hand dismissively. “Knock yourselves out.”

You watch as a table is cleared and Theo all but shoves Arik into a chair. When everyone looks expectantly at you, you shoot a wide-eyed, somewhat panicked glance her way.

Sevika offers you a half smile, then shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your choice.’

You shrug back, then sigh before standing. You stride over to the awaiting table and sit opposite a very grumpy, red-faced Arik.

Sevika shifts on her stool so she has a better view. Heat unfurls in her core as you prop one elbow against the table. She watches the way the thick muscles in your arm and forearm ripple with each movement. Damn.

Arik shifts in his seat. His eyelid twitches as he eyes your arm and hand. “I– I don’t know–”

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

Arik swallows hard, then props his elbow on the table and takes hold of your hand.

“On go,” Ran declares –they’ve left the bar and now stand beside the table. “Three… two… one… go!”

It’s not even a competition. If anything, it’s almost pathetic.

Arik tenses his arm –then squeaks when you push his hand down so fast he nearly falls out of his chair. The back of his hand hits the wooden surface of the table with a dull thonk. He lets out an angry snarl, yanks his hand away, then lurches to his feet and storms off with such force that his chair topples to the floor.

Everyone else cheers and claps as the front door of The Last Drop slams shut behind Arik.

“Fucking finally,” Theo mutters before running one hand through his curly hair. He looks at you and smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for shutting him up. Want a drink?”

You lean back and away. “I –I’m good, thanks.”

“That wasn’t even a challenge, though!” Silver pipes up, pouting.

“We already knew it wouldn’t be,” Theo fires back drily.

“But,” Ran interjects with a wry edge to their voice, “if we’re really trying to figure out who’s strongest…” 

Sevika presses her lips into a thin line when they turn and look directly at her. Don’t you fucking dare.

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

You look at her, then lean back in your seat and grin. “Oh, yeah. Easy.”

Sevika feels her brows rise up, and she grins back despite being annoyed with Ran literal seconds ago. “Really? That’s the stance you want to take?”

“I mean…” You shrug and smirk. “It’s the truth.” You raise one eyebrow as buzzed laughter and inebriated runs through the gang. “What, you're too scared to test it?”

Them’s fighting words. Sevika cocks her head to the side, smirks right back, then shoves off her barstool and stalks over to the table.

Your eyes light up as she sits down across from you. You lean forward, prop one elbow on the tabletop, and grin. “It’s nothing personal, Sev.”

The crooked angle of your grin makes her heart flutter in a delightful, squirmy manner. She swallows hard, forces down the childish feelings of elation, and props one elbow on the table without dropping your gaze. She smirks, and revels in the way your eyes dance in the bar lighting. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” she fires back, making sure her voice comes out lower and huskier.

Your grin broadens. You clasp her hand and squeeze tight while Theo counts down…

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

It’s like shoving against a wall. Granted, Sevika’s shoved, kicked, and punched a number of walls in her day. She’s left her mark –even broken a few–on nearly all of them. She likes to think that she’s a reasonably strong, generally indestructible motherfucker.

You watch her for a few moments, expression placid –save for the smug, wicked, coy, sexy smirk on your lips. You let her try for a little longer, then inhale sharply and blink rapidly. “Wait, did we start already?”

“Fuck you,” Sevika grits out without any real malice.

You grin, showing a brilliant, alluring flash of teeth –and then you push.

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

To her credit, she feels your own arm waver slightly; to your credit, you brace your muscles, and it’s like pushing against a wall again.

She grits her teeth and tries to up the ante again. She curses when it doesn’t work, then grunts when you push her arm down another fraction of an inch.

“You okay, baby?” You grin when everyone else laughs (it’s a mix of delight and shock). “It’s okay if you need to tap.”

She grins back. Right now, she doesn’t care if she loses. Frankly, if you keep flirting with her like this, she’s the real winner in this scenario. “Keep it up, baby. We’ll see who taps.”

It’s a lost cause. You take your sweet time, push her hand down smooth and slow, and talk a lot of smack all the while.

She’s got less than an inch between the table top and the back of her right hand, now. You’re not even actively pushing, more just keeping her pinned at that point. She grunts, then laughs when your arm doesn’t budge. “Come on, you cunt. Just fucking finish it!”

You laugh in return and wink. “You’re getting tired in your old age, Sev.”

She grins. “Say that again and we’ll take this out back, bitch.”

You wink –then shove the back of her hand down against the table.

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

Sevika can’t find it in herself to give a shit. Yeah, she lost, people are teasing her for it, whatever. She’ll kick their asses later, if she feels like it. Right now, you’re laughing, and smiling at her, and she technically got to hold your hand. That’s all she really cares about.

“What about the other one?”

Sevika blinks a few times, then frowns, confused. She looks up at Theo. “Huh?”

“Her other arm.” He’s talking to you, but he turns and gestures to her mech arm. “What about that one?”

“Uh…” Trepidation flashes across your face as you eye her prosthetic. You cringe and lean back in your chair. “I doubt it.”

It’s fair; her mech arm is reinforced, has motors that work the joints the way her muscles used to, and it’s heavy as shit. She’s crushed bones with her mechanical hand, just by clenching her hand into a fist.

But, still. In for a penny, stupid ways of flirting –all that shit.

She props her metal elbow on the table, resulting in a muted thud.

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

She grins in a way that she hopes is taunting and enticing. She holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers. “You scared, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flash. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip. You brace your forearms against the table as you eye her metal hand. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, then say, “Just don’t crush my hand.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. She’s not out for revenge.

Your shoulders relax. You cock your head from side to side, stretching your neck, then put your left elbow on the table and clasp her mechanical hand. “Bring it on. Sweetheart.”

It’s a more even match; she’d certainly hope so, given the fucking mechanical arm.

There’s a vein popping out on the side of your neck. Your face is pinched, expression one of intense focus and strain. The muscles in your arm and forearm stand out in full, glorious relief, defined and rippling as you fight against the force of her arm.

Her arm isn’t shaking this time, at least; such are the merits of steel reinforcement bars. But she’s not moving your hand, either. Sevika growls. The motors in her arm whir as she pushes harder.

You grunt and shove back. You bare your teeth. Your gaze is locked on where your two hands are joined. Your hands trembles from the sheer force of your exertion–

And then her hand lowers an inch.

Everyone else gasps. Exclamations and expletives roll through the bar.

“Fifty gold pieces says Mouse does it,” Theo says. 

“Bullshit,” Ran fires back. “She’ll get tired, first.”

Kharim pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil. “That’s fifty on Mouse, so far. Do I hear one hundred?”

“I’ll put twenty on Sev,” Silver says with a sweet smile.

“Really?” Sevika grunts as she pushes harder against your hand. “Only twenty?”

You let out a breathless, strained laugh –then push her hand down further.

“Who’s got another fifty on Mouse?” Kharim asks.

Too late, she realizes her prosthetic arm is actually working against her, in this situation. She has to work against the weight of the mech arm –which you can use to your advantage, naturally. The built in mechanical safeties are hosing her, too. Her arm is designed such that, at certain angles or certain levels of exertion, the gears and motors will give to whatever she’s working against. It prevents damage to the internal mechanisms and bending the internal support structures. It’s invaluable for the longevity of her prosthetic, but it also means she can’t mindlessly strain against your hand like she could with her right arm. Her only hope is that her left arm can outmatch yours in raw strength.

Normally, she’d go all in on that bet. Normally –unless her opponent was doped to the gills on Shimmer–there wouldn’t even be enough force in the picture for the failsafes to override the locking mechanisms.

You growl, teeth bared in a glorious snarl, and shove her metal hand lower.

She can’t even find it in herself to be mad. One, she’s not some mealy-mouthed bitch who needs to be the strongest person in the room at all times; she, unlike some people (Arik), is confident in herself and her abilities. Two, it’s frankly impressive. It’s an unrepentant display of raw strength, and she’s not above respecting it. Three…

It’s hot.

She’s torn between focusing on resisting you and watching the muscles in your arm flex. Her mild buzz isn’t helping, either. In hindsight, should’ve stopped with the second glass. It’s taking far too much focus not to just gawk, to grin and simper like an idiot, and she likes to think she still has her pride –which is also why she’s not just giving up. After all, she has her pride. Sevika growls when you force her hand lower, then doubles down and pushes back. Maybe not for much longer, with how this is going. Fuck.

You grit your teeth. There’s sweat glistening along your hairline (which might be her only other saving grace, since her mech arm can’t get tired). You snarl, then grip her hand tighter.

Sevika swears when her arm suddenly jerks downward. She nearly topples out of her chair, saved only by managing to plant her feet beneath the table. She catches herself, blinks–

It’s over.

You shove her metal knuckles against the table with a thud –hard enough that the wood dents inward where her steel knuckle guard hits the surface.

The crowd goes nuts, loses their minds, whatever. If she’s being honest, she’s really not paying attention to it. A distant fragment of her brain registers the squaring of bets, exchanging of coin, but–

You’re still holding her hand.

A larger, deeply buried part of her is furious that she doesn’t have better sensory input on her left hand. She can detect pressure and temperature, rudimentary shit, but she can’t feel the calluses on your palm, or the precise texture of your skin. She can’t really gauge how thick your hand is in hers.

You’re still panting, somewhat dazed as you stare down at your joined hands. Slowly, your eyes trace up the line of her mech arm, up to her face, where you take in her stunned expression. You swallow, quick, then grin.

You’re breathing hard. Your skin glistens faintly with warmth. Your hair looks tousled, slightly sweat trapped. And your grin practically glows.

It’s the closest she’s ever been to seeing what you look like after sex. Sevika can feel her mind filing every single detail of how you look away for future masturbatory reference. She grins back, slow and a bit dazzled. “Shit.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. You drop her gaze for a moment, but when you look back up your eyes shine unabated joy.

You’re not looking away. You’re not pulling away. You’re not letting go of her hand.

Do it, a voice that sounds irritatingly like Ran’s whispers in her mind. Do it, you fucking coward. Sevika licks her lips, then leans forward, hoping that she comes across as conspiratorial and collected. “I–”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

The sudden intrusion feels more like an assault. Fake, sweet perfume cloys at her nose. There’s arms around her neck, and unwanted weight in her lap.

Silver’s face looms into view. She peers down through her lashes, lips posed in a perfect, alluring pout. “It’s not–”

Whatever else Silver says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s looking over the smaller woman’s shoulder, instead.

You pull your hand back across the table. Your smile slips away, and your shoulders bunch up ever so slightly. Back to the usual mask of the careful, quiet mouse.

Godsdammit. Sevika shoves Silver out of her lap and stands with a snarl. “Fuck off.” She stomps away and up the stairs, to where Silco’s office and a few private rooms are. “Everyone, out! Tonight’s done!” She ignores the groans and jeers following her, storms into Silco’s office, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles in its setting.

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

Sevika collapses onto the quilted velvet couch tucked into the corner of the office. She drops her head into her hands and scrubs at her face. Janna’s left fucking tit, that was a disaster. She sits up, only to slump against the couch like a dejected teenager. This is never going to work out.

If she was anyone else, she might cry –out of sheer frustration, if nothing else. Since she’s not anyone else, she helps herself to a cigar from Silco’s stash.

She only gets as far as rummaging through his desk for the cutter. (Jinx must have absconded with it. Again.) Something in her hindbrain makes her go still; an old, well-tested instinct that says ‘something isn’t right.’

Sevika freezes. Her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of intruders, or one of Jinx’s traps. She strains her ears; aside from the faint, scuttling noises of stray pests, it’s silent.

Too silent.

There should be more talk coming from downstairs; she hadn’t really expected everyone to listen to her when she ordered them all to clear out. There should be music playing, people arguing, clacks from the balls on the pool table. At the very least, there should be complaining and the noises of a final clear down.

She’d half-expected Silver to follow her upstairs. Or maybe Ran, at least. But there’s no sounds of someone climbing upstairs, or Silver’s high-pitched voices, or even creaking floorboards in the hall outside.

Sevika pulls out a knife she keeps tucked in a sheath hidden behind the waistband of her pants. She creeps forward, deadly silent, until she reaches the door of Silco’s office. She gingerly places her right hand on the doorknob, until it’s completely encapsulated by her grip, then slowly turns the handle. Once the latch is fully retracted, she tucks herself behind the door and inches it open. She waits for a beat, then another, then peers around the corner.

The bar is empty.

Now that the door’s open, she can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around the main bar floor. There’s no conversation, though; it’s too quiet to be the usual crew, for another matter.

Sevika stalks down the hall. She quietly, efficiently clears each room before she passes it, until she reaches the end of the outer wall, where the balcony begins. She tucks herself into the shadows, then peers around the corner.

You’re down on the bar floor, putting the remaining chairs up on the tables.

Sevika watches you for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. Where the fuck is everyone else? She blinks, until her brain finally processes that The Last Drop has not been broken into by assassins or other hooligans, then steps around the corner and into the full light of the bar. She taps the railing of the balcony with her metal hand to alert you to her presence. When you look up, she gestures around aimlessly. “Where’d they go?”

You look around, then back up at her and shrug with one shoulder. “You said to get out.”

“Doesn’t mean they’d actually listen.”

Your gaze cuts away from hers. You duck your head, then go back to putting up the chairs. “Might’ve pushed ‘em. Enforced the order.” You give a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you wanted ‘em gone.”

Sevika grunts and nods. Fair enough. At least, now, she doesn’t have to deal with Silver lingering around. For lack of knowing what else to do, she watches you as you continue tidying things up for the night. “We don’t pay you to do that.”

You shrug; your back’s to her, now, as you work your way around a circular table. “Doesn’t really matter. Thieram deserves a night off, every now and then.”

There’s not much point in loitering on the balcony and staring at you like a mooning idiot. She strides across the length of the balcony, tromps down the stairs, then crosses the distance to the table you’re working in three strong steps. She grabs one of the remaining chairs, flips it upside down with ease, then hooks the seat of the chair on the table top.

You go still for a moment. You watch her, gaze following her every movement, until you relax again and resume working. “‘M sorry ‘bout earlier.”

She nearly trips over the chair she’s picking up. Sevika stalls, blinks, then sets the chair back on the floor and levels you with an incredulous, confused stare. “What?”

“For kicking your ass.” The corner of your mouth briefly ticks up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it washes away to true contrition. “Wasn’t trying to humiliate you ‘n front of everyone.”

“I–” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Can’t imagine where that narrative came from. “I’m not. You didn’t.” She hangs the chair from the table, then scoffs, indignant. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not Arik.”

You smirk, but stay still as you watch her for a few moments. “You were mad about something.”

“I was mad at Silver,” Sevika grouses, careful to avoid making eye contact. And her lousy sense of timing.

You let her get the last few chairs, opting instead to grab a tray and collect stray glasses and empty beer bottles. “You two okay?”

She snorts. “We’re not involved enough to be ‘okay’ or otherwise. We’ve fucked before. End of story.”

“...Did she do something to you?”

The tight, lethal quietness in your voice gets her attention. She straightens up, meets your gaze, and shakes her head. “No. She just gets on my nerves now and then, s’all.”

You grunt, understanding, then add a couple more glasses to your tray before carrying the lot over to the bar.

Sevika grabs a couple stray, half-empty bottles of whiskey, tequila, and vodka, then follows partially in your wake. She stops at the bar counter, watching as you round the end so you can dispose of the beer bottles and set the used glasses in the sink. She sets the half-consumed bottles on the counter, then leans against the neon light-edged lip while she watches you. “Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.” She smirks when you half-turn, brows lightly drawn together, then waggles her metal fingers. “Figured I’d have you licked.”

You snort, then shake your head. “Might’ve.” You set the last of the glasses in the sink, then drop the beer bottles in the recycling can. “Probably would’ve if we’d gone longer. You’d have me beat on stamina.”

She can’t stop her automatic, teasing, too sultry for its own good reply. “Oh, I doubt that.”

You do a quick double take.You stare at her over your shoulders, eyes the size of dinner plates. Then, your lips press together before quirking upwards in a shy smile. You laugh softly. “Yeah, well, your mechanics would’ve won, in the end.” You toss the last of the bottles into the recycling can, then turn and step to the bar. “Figured it was just best to–” you draw your fingers across your neck in a quick slash and click your tongue “–cut things quick, override the locking mechanisms.”

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

You lick your lips, then grin. You eye her for a moment, shifting from foot to foot –then, you grab the remaining bottles and crouch so you can stow them beneath the bar counter. “Course, helps that you’re shit at arm wrestling, too.”

“Excuse me?” she laughs, caught off guard and bemused. “Run that by me again?”

“You’re shit at arm wrestling.” You chuckle as you stand. “Your form’s terrible. Makes you easy to beat, even if I wasn’t stronger than you.”

She grins wide, exhilarated. Fighting words. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You plant your palms against the bartop. “‘S how it seems to me.” You smirk –which grows into a smile as she looks you over–then prop your right arm against the counter. “I could show you a couple tricks. Improve your odds a bit.”

She takes the bait like the happiest, dumbest fish that ever lived and sets her right elbow atop the counter. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

“Right off the bat–” You reach forward and adjust the angle of her arm. “‘S really not about raw power. I mean, it helps, but angles are a lot more important.” Your hands slide along the length of her arm, adjusting things until you’re satisfied with how she’s positioned. You nod to yourself, then move to her wrist. You hold her right hand with both of yours. “Gotta think about how you’re holding your hand, too. Too many people wind up pushing with their forearms. Means that they got their hands at the wrong angle, most of the time. You want to be pushing with your upper arm and shoulder.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” she drawls, layering on the sarcasm to –hopefully–hide how breathless she is.

You snort, then lower your left hand and grip her right hand with yours –assume the position. “Alright. Try now.”

She does –not with as much vigor as she used in the initial match, but she still puts decent effort into it. Her eyebrows spike high when she feels less strain than earlier. “Shit.”

You flash her a lopsided grin. “See? Knowing what you’re doing helps.”

“Bite me.”

You fake a grimace. “Not until you shower first. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“You implying something?”

“I’ve seen how many people you can beat up in a week, Sev.”

She chuckles, then shrugs in concession. “Fair enough.” She grips your hand tighter and smirks wickedly before shoving against your hand, hard. “Hope you’re ready to join the list–”

You grunt –then brace against her onslaught and force her hand the other way.

“Shit!” Sevika strains against your hand, but it’s veritably useless as you slowly push her hand downward (at least you have to work harder for it, this time). “Son of a bitch –motherfucker!”

“Still stronger than you,” you fire back as you finally pin the back of her hand against the bartop. You smile, impish and sweet. “But that was a good try.” You grin when she glowers at you, then toss your head back and laugh when she flips you off with her left hand.

She can’t think of a retort; the wrestling tugged your shirt off kilter, and your laugh exposed something new –fresh, smooth ink along the side of your neck, previously hidden by your collar. She stares, tracing the way the tendrils of the flowers curve around your neck and down your clavicle before disappearing under your shirt. “That’s new.”

You look down at her, blinking rapidly, then crane your neck to look down when she gestures loosely at your chest. “Oh. Yeah.” You shrug with the opposite shoulder. “Wanted to do something for myself. Cover up some of the shit I got inside.” You hesitate, then swallow hard and ask. “Do –do you wanna see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” The meaning of your offer doesn’t really hit until you let go of her hand so you can start unbuttoning your top. Sevika locks her knees to keep from toppling over as all the blood rushes Southward from her head. Janna, help me.

Mercifully, you only undo the top three buttons on your shirt. Unmercifully, that gives you enough leeway to push the right side of your shirt down over your shoulder, revealing more of your chest and your neck.

Oh, and the tattoo.

It’s pretty. It’s a good piece, too, done by someone who knew what they were doing. The design is a dense cluster of flowers that fans up the side of your neck and down over your collarbone.

“That’s real pretty,” Sevika ekes out, voice gone to gravel. She reaches up to touch it, but catches herself before her hand leaves the bar. Don’t startle her. “Do you mind?”

It takes you a moment, but you look down when she gestures with her flesh hand. “Oh.” You let out a soft, trembling breath. Your throat flexes as you swallow. “Yeah –go for it.”

Everything that follows feels like a dream. The world seems to take on a warm, golden hue that overpowers the glaring neon lights and the dark shadow of night outside. It feels like she’s moving through molasses, achingly slow as she lifts her hand towards your neck.

Your skin is unbelievably soft beneath her fingertips. The lines of ink stretch slightly as she traces down your neck and over your shoulder.

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Something about your heavy, trembling exhale makes her look up.

You’re staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. Your lips are parted, and you’re practically panting despite standing still.

But you’re not pulling away. You’re not shaking. If anything, you’re practically melting beneath her hand. And your gaze is locked on her face –practically zeroed in on her mouth…

Oh.

She owes Ran a drink. Or another kick in the shin. Maybe both.

This, however, is at least more familiar territory –so long as she plays her cards right.

Various options flit through her mind, but they all desiccate before they reach her tongue. She quickly finds herself locking up instead as she tries to figure out what the fuck to say. Shitshitshitshitshit–

(She’s never been more grateful that you kicked everyone out. Ran would never let her live this down.)

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

Sevika swallows hard. Go big or go home. Not like the world’s gonna end if she says ‘no.’ She clears her throat. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking attractive?”

“I–” Your eyes go wide as you sputter. Your gaze flicks between her eyes and her mouth. “Not –no. Not really.”

“Shame,” Sevika drawls. She traces her thumb down the stem of one of the flowers inked into your neck, then looks back up at you. “You’d think they’d have eyes. I’ve noticed since the first time we met.”

You snort, equanimity somewhat restored. “What, in an illegal prison fight club soaked in the blood of others?”

She smirks and winks at you. “You made it work.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth as you smile. You duck your head bashfully, then brace your forearms against the countertop –which puts you closer to her height. “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I didn’t notice you ‘like that’ from the start.”

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

You shake your head, gaze still glued on the countertop. “I was, uh, a little concerned with surviving –making sure you didn’t knock my teeth out with your metal fist, that sort of thing.” You let out a little laugh, then look at her. “But I noticed later.”

Warmth blooms in her chest and abdomen. She grins, soft and slow. “Really?” Her grin grows when you smile shyly and nod. “Well, shit. Lucky me.” She strokes her thumb along your tattoo again; satisfaction curls in her stomach when you shiver.

“I–” You lick your lips and look at her eyes, then her lips, then back up, then back down again, then back up again. “I don’t…” Your gaze locks onto her lips when she smirks; your pupils blow wide, and you let out a ragged, heavy breath. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Heady elation blooms in her chest and quickly spreads through her body. “That,” she murmurs as she slides her fingers beneath your chin and leans in, “sounds great to me.”

Your lips are soft against hers. Hesitant. You freeze, scarcely even breathing.

But you’re not pulling away –or panicking–so she decides to stay the course. She presses her lips a bit more firmly against yours, then smirks when you let out a quiet moan and angle your head towards hers. There we go. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and pulls back incrementally to assess your interest level.

You’re trembling. There’s a faint glow of sweat on your forehead. Your breaths come ragged and fast, chest rising and falling heavily. Your eyelids are half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that your eyes nearly look black.

Before she can do anything, you lean in and kiss her again; this time, it’s her turn to moan against your mouth.

It’s clumsy. It’s easy to tell that you don’t have much –if any–experience in this department. But your unabashed eagerness more than makes up for lacking finesse.

Sevika gently grasps your jaw with her right hand, guiding you through the series of kisses that follow. She carefully angles your head as she pleases, and pulls back intermittently to both catch her breath and see what you’ll do. When you keep following her lead, she decides to nip at your lower lip –just to see if it’ll draw you out of your shell more.

You let out a throaty growl when her teeth graze your lower lip –and then you pull away.

A mix of disappointment and fear flash through her stomach –but it all drains away when you vault over the counter and land next to her. She smirks as you crowd into her space, but frown when genuine trepidation settles over your face. “What?”

Your brows pinch together. “I–” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Oh. That’s all. She smiles, lax and confident, then places her hands on your broad shoulders. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

She slides her hands down your chiseled arms, then takes your hands and places them on her hips. “Anywhere.”

You’re too still at first –nerves driven by inexperience. But you loosen up when she nips at your lower lip again. You draw in a guttural breath, then squeeze her hips tighter when she curls her fingers into your waist. You press closer to her when she slides her tongue against yours. When she slides her right hand up the back of your neck and tugs at the soft hair at your nape, you growl, then slide your hands around her ass and squeeze.

Finally. Sevika moans softly and arches against you. She wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, so she can keep you close, and rests her left hand on your hip. She plunders your mouth with her tongue, then moans again when you grope her ass more firmly. She hooks one metal finger through one of the belt loops on your pants and tugs you closer –then gasps when you shove against the bar.

You crowd against her, kissing her fiercely, eagerly. Your hands cup her ass and lift, forcing her onto the balls of her feet so you have better access to her.

Surprise flits up her spine. She’s not used to being in this position; most women come to her to be manhandled, not the other way around. But she can see the appeal of it; there’s a certain giddiness in the gut that accompanies it, like the hang time from jumping across rooftops.

The kiss devolves into something artless and hungry. The two of you meet each other in the middle, pressed against each other like teenagers in a closet.

She’s starting to get into that state where she feels like she’s melting into you, and vice versa. The bar, the faint drone of passersby always present in the Lanes, the buzz of the neon lights that wrap around the bartop, the arm wrestling match less than an hour ago –all of it’s gone, blurred into background coloration like splotches on one of those fancy, impression-type paintings, for which Pilties drop the equivalent of a Trencher’s life earnings (and then some). There’s that familiar, ravenous ache in her cunt. She ought to ask you back to her place; The Last Drop hardly seems poignant enough for your first time. But the notion of stopping your eager exploration of her body is downright offensive –especially when your open mouth catches her jaw and sends arousal curling through her gut.

You pause when she tips her head back. A few ragged pants fan across the sensitized, blood-hot skin of her neck. You swallow, then clear your throat. “I –is this–”

“Yes.” She curls her right hand around the back of your neck, then gently presses your forward until you lean the rest of the way in and press your lips against her throat. Her eyelids flutter as you trail soft, closed mouth kisses over the hollow of her throat. She moans softly, and her fingers curl into your short hair. Fuck. She waits for a bit, letting you explore, but pipes up again when she feels you growing more hesitant –nerves winning out over exploration. “Use your tongue.” She shudders when you lick beneath her jaw. “Attagirl.”

The praise does something for you. You moan into her skin, then repeat the motion again. You swirl your tongue against her throat, mimicking the way the two of you had kissed seconds before.

“That’s it,” Sevika encourages you, eyes rolling back in her head. She rolls her hips against you, then groans when you press closer, neatly pinning her against the bar. “Good girl.”

You whine, loud and broken, then lift. You half lay her out on the bar, then support the rest of her by locking your arms just beneath her ass. You bend over her and bury your face in her neck, devouring her like a starved stray.

Sevika locks her ankles behind your back. She clutches at the back of your shirt with her right hand, and braces herself against the bartop with her left arm. She’s in the perfect position to grind against you, so that’s just what she does.

A small, idle fragment of her mind notes just how great this is. Yes, she enjoys having her way with women –and she’ll get to you soon enough–but there’s something to be said for receiving. It’s a new spin on “being eaten alive,” and she’s never been happier to be dinner.

She slides her fingers into your hair when your mouth trails lower, towards her clavicle. “Good girl.” She gasps, then tightens her grip on your hair when you drag your teeth over her collarbone. “That’s it –good girl, good girl–”

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

Something crashes in the alleyway outside. There’s a loud slam, followed by the crystalline crack of shattering glasses. An enraged, muffled shout ensues, followed by more heavy thudding.

You both freeze.

She recovers first. A few minutes of hearing proves it’s just a couple of angry drunks going at it –she can hear slurred, if muffled, arguing and grunting that accompanies being punched. Idiots. She turns back to you–

You’re completely stiff. Your eyes are wide, gaze flicking around the bar. You’ve gone from holding her to gripping the edge of the bar top.

Sevika winces faintly when she hears your knuckles crack. She opens her mouth to reassure you–

Another thud makes you flinch –and then you press down against her.

Sevika grunts. She tries to sit up, only for you to push her back down. She stops struggling when you use your arm to cover the top of her head. What the–

There’s something so deeply protective about the gesture that it makes her brain short circuit. You’re literally covering her with your body, as though the ceiling’s about to collapse on top of the both of you.

It’s sweet. It’s also bewildering because nothing bad is fucking happening. It’s just drunks in the alley; they’ll probably pass out long before they could ever beat each other to death.

Sevika gingerly splays her fingers against your back, between your shoulder blades. She murmurs your name, but gets no response –not even a glance of recognition. Her stomach drops when another round of shouting makes you flinch. She feels your chest push against hers as your breathing speeds up –and okay, that’s enough, time to divert things. She says your name, louder this time, then carefully cups the side of your face with her right hand. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Just look at me, alright?”

You jolt when her thumb sweeps across your cheek. You do look down at her, though, and let out a shaky breath when you meet her gaze.

She revels, just for a moment, in how quickly you melt again under her attention. You’re still tense –you haven’t let up your death grip on the bar top–but your shoulders loosen up and your breathing slows a bit. You swallow hard, then lean every so slightly into her touch.

Focus. She can already feel herself getting sucked back into dreamy, brainless bliss. Focus, focus, focus. She blinks hard, then clears her throat. “Hey. Let’s get out of here, yeah? My place is quieter.” She pushes up on her left arm so the counter isn’t digging into her back. “More comfortable.”

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

Sevika swallows a grimace. Shit. Maybe Ran was right; she’s rusty, too eager, and now she’s pushing too fast. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “We can –I just–” You set her down, then lick your lips as you rock from foot to foot. “My bed’s probably bigger.” You shrug and shove your hands in your pants pockets. “That’s all.”

Only several years of playing cards keeps her from sagging in relief. She nods, trying to process as panic flashes and ebbs, then takes a moment to study you. She notes the tightness in your shoulders, the way you’ve got your head ducked, and presses her lips together faintly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Your eyes flash, and you step closer to her. “It’s not,” you growl, “an issue of want.” You swallow, then let out a self-deprecating laugh –which, fortunately, prompts you to relax a little. “I just won’t know what I’m doing, s’all.”

“I can work with that.” Sevika closes the distance between the two of you, gripping your hips when you bend down and kiss her again. She savors the feeling of your lips for a moment, then pulls away and grins up at you. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

[nottherealskittles]

Showing some love to my moon lesbian Sehanine! She’s currently on the way to the crèche with a complicated love-hate relationship with Shadowheart. She’s best buddies with Karlach and Wyll on account of being a cinnamon roll Baldurian. I imagine the three of them spend countless nights by the fire talking about their favourite spots in the city and where they plan on visiting when they get back.

I really like her in chainmail so I’m deciding if I should keep her in similar armour throughout the game or have her shift to plate armour at some point. I’m also thinking of changing up her hair before act 2 since I now have a mod that has pretty much her vanilla hair but with longer braids. Maybe she chops it all off after act 2? Ideas ideas…

I have so many ideas for little comic strips I can draw about her adventures I just have to survive finals 💀. Her and Shadowheart are also so bubbline I love it. I also want to get to draw her body type along with some of my other characters because I envision them to have slightly different builds compared to the options provided in character creation. I imagine her to be top heavy inverted triangle with her growing her delts and biceps over the course of her journey from carrying everyone’s shit and also being a frontline mace wielding cleric. Hmm… maybe her forearms would also be buff from swinging maces around? I’d have to look into it. For another example, I imagine Kozah to be quite lithe because he mainly relies on spells though I’m getting him some weapons at some point so maybe that’ll change? I have so many buff characters I really should introduce on this blog and draw.. as someone with a dwarf like body I love to see the muscle babes <3