#it took so long to draw mainly because i really wanted to make it look like cool paleo-art - usually i draw very cartoony

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Lil Sky rant cuz he has been on my mind too much. Oh and a drawing

This is a little dark but bare with me here—we don't know much about him yet so I'll be mainly going off what was mentioned in ep 2,3 and 4. If you don't like war trauma talk you can just skip this. PS. I made this on like, 2nd of march so I may have gotten a few things wrong-

Again- tw! This gets a little dark, just war stuff.

Skylar is such a bright and playful character now, but when you really consider what he went through—fighting in WWII as a teenager, watching people he cared about die, being captured and experimented on—it’s horrifying. Even if it’s not like, the main core of his character, that experience must have shaped him in ways that linger beneath the surface. Being a 19-year-old in the middle of one of the deadliest wars in history, witnessing the loss of friends and the people he wanted to protect, must have left an unimaginable sense of helplessness. And then, to survive only to be subjected to brutal experimentation—it’s like he never really had a moment to breathe, to process, to grieve. That kind of trauma doesn’t just disappear.

Even though he survived, there’s no way he came out of it unscathed, ofc we know of that physically since he showed up a scar from the war—but I'm talking mentally, Survivor’s guilt must weigh heavy on him, even decades later. Perhaps therapy has helped, but something like that never fully leaves. Knowing Skylar, he likely masks a lot of it with his usual lightheartedness. Maybe he doesn’t talk about it much, or maybe he only opens up to a select few. But those memories, that sense of helplessness—it lingers. Even if he’s playful and friendly now, there must be moments when it all creeps back in—quiet moments, nightmares, a certain phrase or scent bringing it all rushing to the surface.

It’s hard not to wonder how he copes. Does he push it down, joke, and smile because it’s easier than facing the weight of everything? Or does he focus on the present because the past is too painful to look at for too long? And then there’s Ava—how much did her presence help in those early years after she took him in? Did he resent becoming a vampire at first, believing he should have died with the others? Or did he cling to this second chance, determined to live for those who couldn’t? Either way, it’s tragic. He’s not just a survivor; he’s someone who had to rebuild himself completely.

•

I hope we see that other side of Sky, it could add so much depth to his character. It’s one thing to know he went through all of that, but actually witnessing how it still affects him—whether in subtle moments of reflection or more intense emotional beats—would really bring his inner struggles to the forefront. It would make his lightheartedness feel more meaningful too, like a conscious choice rather than just a default personality trait.

It’d also be interesting to see how he handles those memories in contrast to the people around him. Yeah he's shown honey, but does he let anyone else see that side of him? Does he talk about it, even in passing, or is it something he keeps locked away? And if it does come out, what does that look like? A rare moment of vulnerability, or a quiet, almost imperceptible shift in his usual demeanor? There’s so much potential to explore, and I really do hope the series dives into it, even if it's just a little bit, whether it'd be about how he's healed from the mental trauma or if it still affects him till this day and how he'd cope with it.

But back to the trauma—man, there’s so much to unpack. Because now, on top of everything else, he had to come to terms with pledging himself to Ava and whatever that meant for his future. Even if he didn’t regret it, there had to be moments where the weight of it all hit him right?? Like, he survived the war, the experiments, only to end up in a completely different kind of existence where he still wasn’t truly free.

Alright so a diagnosis from an 18 year old girl on the internet that you should NOT take as a canon fact

•Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) – The constant exposure to war, loss, and later experimentation at a young age would leave deep psychological scars

•Survivor’s Guilt – Given how many people he lost, he might struggle with thoughts like “Why me?” or “I should have died with them.” Even if he’s found purpose in his new life, those feelings don’t just disappear.

•Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder (DPDR) – After being turned, Sky probably had moments where he felt like he wasn’t real anymore.

•Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) – While he comes off as bright and playful, the weight of everything might hit him in waves.

•Complicated Grief – His grief is layered. He’s lost people, his humanity, and the life he thought he’d have. Even if he’s had time to process it, certain things (anniversaries, places, even random triggers) could bring it all back.

•Masking & Emotional Suppression – Not a clinical diagnosis, but Skylar likely copes by hiding everything behind humor and charm. It’s not fake—he genuinely is lighthearted—but it’s also a shield. He probably doesn’t let many people see when things get bad.

In terms of comfort..

How Does This Affect Him Now? •He might have a deep fear of failure or losing people again, making him overprotective of those he cares about. •He might be reluctant to form deep emotional attachments, even if he’s friendly. •His playfulness could be a way to control how others perceive him—if they think he’s fine, they won’t ask questions. •There are likely moments, when he’s alone or caught off guard, where the weight of it all still hits.

Verdict: Sky is a high-functioning trauma survivor who copes by masking, humor, and focusing on the present—but the past is never really gone. He’s still carrying it, even if most people don’t see it.

For someone like Sky—who’s spent so long hiding his struggles behind humor and deflection—the key is patience, quiet support, and making sure he feels like he’s in control of his own healing. He’s the kind of survivor who isn’t going to spill his emotions just because someone asks. If anything, pushing too hard might make him shut down even more.

If Sky dissociates or gets trapped in his own head, Verbal grounding might also help, but keep it simple. He most likely doesn’t like showing vulnerability about a subject like this, and he’s probably conditioned himself to believe that talking about it makes him a burden. Instead of asking “What’s wrong?” or “Do you want to talk?” frame it in a way that gives him control.

.

.

.

Side rant! You can ignore this if you wanna lol

I feel this is what makes a traumatized character writing so rich and compelling. It’s easy to say, “Oh, this character went through something traumatic,” but actually sitting down and thinking about how that trauma shapes their personality, their coping mechanisms, their relationships? That’s where the real depth comes in.

When you really take the time to really explore a character’s struggles, it makes them feel real. It’s not just about adding angst for drama—it’s about understanding why they are the way they are, why they act the way they do, and what keeps them going despite everything.

Like with Sky, the contrast between his bright, playful personality and the weight of his past makes him so compelling. Because he’s not just defined by his trauma, but it still lingers, shaping him in ways both subtle and obvious. And seeing how he navigates that, how he masks it, how he lets certain people in—that’s what makes him feel so human.

It’s honestly one of the best parts of character writing and analysing. You start seeing them not just as fictional people, but as if they exist beyond the page, with histories and emotions that carry forward even when we’re not actively thinking about them.

Anyway. Character belongs to @obsidian-lantern

[dinodoggie]

i spent WAY too much time making this drawing for a silly prehistoric creature version of this meme XD

Auroralumina attenboroughii is the earliest known animal predator as of right now, and its believed to have eaten little plankton-like creatures!

Hope you enjoy this silly drawing, and have an AWESOME day!!

[willowmaidsworld]

i bring heartbreak to you, may you enjoy it (details and some transcribed text under the cut)

it all started with this

it is also like my graduation gift to you, this took so long because of my graduation and it is finally over (succesfully), so i can draw old men yaoi (also it took so long because my whole surroundings decided that the essay "room of one's own" by viginia woolf isn't a significant piece of literature)

I'm still polishing my designs for them, mainly for Watson. For some reason i can't figure out a way to draw him in more simplified style. (Although I like how i drew him on the couch). Just so you know, Mycroft knew everything (not sure if that's canon) and I headcanon Mary Morstan's and Watson's wedding as lavender, Mary as a lesbian.

by no means do i want to steal or copy @/contact-guy 's style, idea or anything, i just like drawing these two and thought this would be a nice visual

The condolences are people from my favourite cases (that happened before The Final Problem according to @/contact-guy cause her order makes the most sense) and there is one imposter among them.

The quote on the grave is "No longer mourn for me when I am dead" from Shakespeare's sonnet 71. For me it reads as a nice yearning and the "And mock you with me after I am gone" at the end of the poem comes to me as nice metaphor for victorian society, its prejudices and taboos. Sonnet 87 was a strong contender, but not so much funeral like. I really really tried to pick some homoerotic victorian poem, but for the love of me i couldn't find anything published before holmes' death that could be cited on a grave. I wanted to include a verse from the poem "An Arundel tomb" ("What will survive of us is love", but not this one… you know, that wouldn't be put on a grave for a man by a man in victorian era), but that would be anachronistic and I decided against it. "Bright star" by John Keats was also considered (bright as intelligent and magnifficent, haha get it? that's a stupid joke), but nothing to put on a grave. Thought of Rimbaud or Verlaine (famously gay lovers and poets), but the vibe was off.

Text of the letter Mrs Hudson wrote as a condolence (look, this is only an excrept and nothing to be taken too seriously, i whipped it out in a minute): The rooms now belong to Mycroft, but you are welcome at any moment, just like he would have wanted. Mrs Hudson

Text of the Irregulars: We liked him. Irregulars (i wrote this with the pencil in my fist like an uneducated homeless victorian child to achieve the effect)

You can use my art in edits, as wallpapers and so on, but please keep my signature there and/or tag me if you do

Seriously i kinda love these two images

[tusk-rumours]

walking funny ‧͙⁺* (part 1) — sam winchester x reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: sam helps you when you're a little incapacitated after last night.

warnings: nsfw, 18+!! a shortish bit of smut (p in v, overstimulation, bondage, tears), mentions of oral (fem!receiving). the whole thing is a mention of sex basically. but mainly aftercare & fluff.

idk what to label this bc it is gn but there's a very brief bit of the reader being referred to as a lady/woman. so it's just x reader

a/n: i hope this is accurate because. can't say i've had this happen to me. ahaha. yeah. enjoy! this was also not meant to be this long lmao

acknowledgement to my saint @mxilkyways for the assistance. love u sexy, thanks for discussing sex positions with me lmao

read part two here!

It was safe to say that Sam had fucked you silly last night. Over, and over, and over again. He's had this effect on you numerous times now, after you get rough with each other for hours. Or when only he'd get rough and dominate you, tying you up and pushing you through the mattress like he did last night. But the feeling of embarrassment of being incapacitated from how hard Sam fucked you never eased.

You lay on your back, waking up way earlier than you intended. 7:32AM. Of course. You turn your head to look at Sam right next to you. He's sleeping peacefully, his face completely relaxed, his hair a little messy against his forehead and the pillow. You'd lift your hands and fix it up if you didn't want to risk waking him. He's such a light sleeper. He's on his side and pressed so close to you that his warm breath ruffles your hair a little, and you wonder how you're gonna successfully untangle yourself from his heavy limbs that are slung over you so firmly.

You manage the task with only a couple hums and unconscious movements from Sam, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, holding back a hiss at the pain. You stood up on shaky legs, almost doubling over if not for the wall right by the bed.

God. He really did a number on you.

It started to hit you full force as you stood, putting your weight on your jelly legs. Your legs and back ached, continuous dull pains throbbing underneath your skin. The worst of it was the uncomfortable pain between your legs, the pain there spiking with every time you agitated the area with a hobble towards the bathroom. You felt borderline bruised. Hell, you were.

You let out a sigh of relief once you make it to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and sinking to the floor, back against the door. You closed your eyes for a moment, before finally getting a good look at yourself.

Sam left harsh red marks from where he gripped you, from the plush of your thighs to your wrists. What he did to you last night was painted all over you, the meaning behind his art so clear it took no intellect to decipher it.

A crowd of hickeys covered your ribs, the softness of your stomach, down to the bones of your hips. Sam had an obsession with taking his time paying attention to every inch of your skin from your forehead downwards when he ate you out, drawing out the process as long as possible.

He mottled the soft and sensitive skin of your inner thighs with dark hickeys too, each mark a reminder of how you writhed and whined more with each nip and suck, of how the arousal you felt that was so close to his mouth getting more unbearable until he did it. Pressing his sweet lips and tongue against you so perfectly in all the ways he knew had you squirming, both of you just so unbelievably wet with your arousal.

You brush your fingertips over them now, your breath hitching a little at the sight. When you fumble for the hand mirror on the counter by the sink you're not prepared for the state of your chest and neck. They're so dark, and there's so many, and there's no fucking way you can cover these up.

"Fuck.." You whisper, wincing as you prod at the marks with your hand.

You didn't even want to attempt any whisk or concealer remedies, because nothing could quick-fix this kind of damage. You huffed, tipping your head back on the door. You would've gotten up if your legs felt capable, but of course, they didn't. So you sat, the bathroom air cold against your bare body. As much as you would've loved it, you knew you couldn't just flop onto the bathroom tile, and wait for Sam to try and open the door, only to be stopped by your body sprawled out like a doorstop.

It takes you an honestly embarrassingly long time to stand. You've gotten back up on your feet quicker on a hunt than this. You decide to blame it on the sleepiness, because yeah, that's exactly what it is.

When you step back into the bedroom, you let out a little disbelieving huff, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Sam hasn't moved.

Jesus, how the hell is he sleeping so well?

He always gets the best sleep after sex, no matter what kind it is. But you? You love when it's rough, truly. But you never get much sleep afterwards. At least when he fucks you gentle you're in for the best sleep of your life after.

Grumbling under your breath, you hobble to the dresser, pains shooting through you. You had a long day ahead of you, you knew that. You manage to dress yourself in one of Sam's flannels and some loose shorts, only almost tripping over once. You consider getting back in bed with Sam, who's still fast asleep (the lucky bastard), with his hands clutching your pillow. But the uncomfortable grumble of your stomach says otherwise. You know you'll start feeling sick soon if you don't eat.

Praying no one else is up yet, you creep out of the bedroom, shutting the door silently on your sleeping Sam. You knew you wouldn't be able to get by without at least someone noticing your discomfort, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. You were cringing at just the thought of Dean's reaction to what his brother did to you. You really didn't need him seeing that. So far the coast was clear as you moved through the halls. Even alone, it felt ridiculous to hobble. So you tried walking normally.

You just hoped your funny normal walk didn’t look as stupid as it felt.

You walked (or limped) into the kitchen, trying your hardest to walk normally, which probably made you look even more ridiculous. No one was here, thank god.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal, waddling like an idiot to the table, sitting down gingerly, a hiss slipping between your teeth as you do so. You focus on your breakfast, grimacing a little.

Why the hell did you make this? You've been getting so sick of cereal recently. The flakes are already soggy now as you move them around the bowl with the spoon. You groan, grimacing more once you take a spoonful. Eventually you just abandon it, half-eaten, sliding it away from you.

This wooden chair is doing absolutely no favours for your aching body, the splats on the backrest digging into your spine, the seat offering no support to your sore ass. You shift your legs uncomfortably, hissing a little at the intolerable pain between them, before you practically jump into the air in your seat when you suddenly see Sams massive body in your peripheral.

He stands in the doorway, his boxers he must've just slipped on sitting on his hips, his hair messy, smiling at your jump, and fuck, he always looks so good like this.

"There you are. You weren't in bed this morning." He says, far too cheerfully for your liking as you watch him come over, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then squishing it up to his.

"Cereal. Why'd you make that? You've been complaining about the sogginess for like a week now." He says softly, his eyes on the bowl sitting in the middle of the table.

You don't even have an answer to that, just pouting a little.

"I'll make you an actually decent breakfast in a bit, hm? How's that sound?"

"Good" You murmur, a little smile on your lips now.

After a moment of his comfortable embrace, he pulls away, taking you in. He can see the marks on your skin you couldn't hide, the slouchiness in your posture and the tiredness in your eyes.

In this moment, you hated him. You looked a mess. You were bruised and hobbling, set to be uncomfortable for the next couple days. But Sam, he looked fine. Not a single hickey or red mark on his skin. He could do a whole dance routine for you with how able his body is if he wasn't so terrible at it.

And worst of all, he liked it. That smirk of his told you that. And you wanted to slap it right off his pretty face.

But you knew you'd just look like an idiot trying to fight him in your state. So, you go for the next best thing. His comfort. You stand on shaky legs, using the arms of the chair to help you, then immediately turn into his chest. A small coo escapes Sam's lips as one of his hands moves to your hair, scratching your head slowly.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asks gently. He knows full well what's wrong with you. He knows, but you're still embarrassed to say it. You're always embarrassed to say it.

"I'm just a little— sore, from last night.." You mumble, dipping your head down, your eyes now very interested in the patterns of the tile floor.

"Oh, baby.." He responds, moving closer, his massive hands coming up to rest on your shoulders for a moment, before one catches your chin, lifting your head.

"Honey, why didn't you say? I always wanna know when I've hurt my baby." He says gently, his eyes as soft as his voice.

"It's a little embarrassing waddling around like a damn penguin because you fucked me good. And a little pathetic."

"Honey," He cracks a smile now with a soft chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

“You don’t—… look like a penguin.” He says, trying his hardest to suppress the quirks at the corners of his lips, however, the mirth in his eyes gives away his amusement anyway.

“Well I look like an old woman then.”

“Baby, you don’t—" He shuts up and purses his lips when he sees your face, stubborn as ever.

"Fine. You're an old lady penguin. Is there anything I can do for this geriatric penguin to ease the pain? You know I'm all for animal welfare."

You scoff, looking at his amused grin in disbelief, the lines in your forehead deep with your scowl.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're the one claiming to be a penguin. Now, tell me. What can I do?" He says, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes as he steps closer, taking your hand gently in his.

You soften, your face relaxing as you lean into him a bit. You think for a moment as you study your intertwined hands, rolling your wrists around a little.

You've always loved his massages.

"A massage? And not having to move would be nice."

He smiles, squeezing your hand gently.

"You got it."

You turn around, heading for your bedroom, before realising you're about to show Sam how stupidly you've been walking, no matter how much you try to hide it.

Like he's read your mind, you hear his laughter from behind you. Then he's scooping you up into his arms bridal style, holding you to his chest firmly. Despite the embarrassment of him having to carry you and the grumble that leaves your lips, you settle snugly into him, feeling his smile on your forehead.

Instead of your bedroom, he kicks open the bathroom door just a little down the hall from it, making sure you don't hit the wall or the door as he steps in. He kicks the door shut, surveying for a place to put you down, before he just sets you back on your feet.

His hands grab the hem of your shirt, his brows raised in question. Once you nod he pulls it off you, his eyes widening.

"Fuck." He says simply, his eyes glued to the barrage of hickeys and marks all over you.

"Yeah." You reply knowingly, watching his expression.

"Shit baby, I know I was rough as hell but jesus, this is worse than I thought it'd be." He sounds genuinely apologetic as his fingertips brush along your skin.

"Yeah. I don't know if you fucked me or beat me up last night." You tease, starting to get a bit of your confidence in the situation back. This happens every time. You cant quite wrap your head around why you always get so shy in the beginning.

He laughs, his cheeks burning a bit, his thumbs rubbing your waist, along the red marks there.

"I think I know exactly what I did to you. And it definitely wasn't beating you up, baby." His mouth harbors a smirk, but his voice is as soft as ever. His fingertips are gentle as they brush against your hips, like a reminder that those hands of his would never lay harm on you, no matter how much they have done.

Because you didn't bother with a bra that morning, his hands slide down from your waist to your hips where the band of your shorts are, hooking his thumbs in and pulling them down gently. You step out of them once they're at your ankles, and when you look up at Sam you almost bust out laughing at his expression.

His eyes are close to bulging out of his head as they focus on your thighs, his mouth open dumbly. Yeah, he's marked you up plenty of times before, but its not often it's this much.

"Sam?" A blink.

"Sam!" You try again, a little firmer.

This time he blinks away his stare, moving to your face again.

"I— i'm sorry baby, I just— god"

"You did spend a lot of time down there."

That gets him smirking.

"I did." He rests a hand on your hip again, watching his thumb as he thinks.

"God, you must be so sore," He breathes, his brows furrowed.

You say nothing in response, because you can't really tell him 'no, not really' because in all honesty, you're really fucking sore. And you're not about to lie to him.

You're both quiet for a moment before he pulls away a little sullenly. He turns the tap for the bath on, waiting for it to get warm then puts the plug in. You watch his back, a frown pulling at your lips. You don't want him to be upset about last night and feel guilty for how it went. You don't regret a thing, and you don't want him to either.

"Sam," You murmur, coming up close behind him, rising on your toes, and resting your chin on his shoulder. He clears his throat a little, turning his head to face you slightly.

"Stop thinking," Is all you murmur, kissing his cheek softly. He sighs at the soft touch of your lips. "And don't you dare feel guilty. You've got a serious talent with your mouth, baby." You tease, trying to get him to smile. He does, a blush creeping up on his cheeks, making your smile wider.

"Okay." He whispers, turning to face you.

"I'll put that lavender stuff you like in there, yeah?" He asks, his thumbs brushing your waist. He's got that puppy dog look on his face as he dips his head to look at you better, and the way he's so soft has you responding with just a tiny nod.

You watch while he puts in all your favourite oils and soaps, the room smelling sweet and lovely, suds foaming up the water. He even lights a few of the candles you put beside the tub when you guys settled in, wanting to make this as relaxing for you as possible. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, doing all this for you. It's all so goddamn sweet.

As the tub fills, you turn off the main light, casting the room in a warm glow from the candles. Even just the dimness of the room has you more relaxed already.

In small steps that don't agitate your body, you walk back over to where Sam's bent over the bath, testing the water. He'll put the temperature scorching hot just how you like it, even if he has to bite his lip to contain hisses. He'd prefer it warm, not like he's submerging himself in a vat of hot oil. But, if it's how you like it, then that's how it'll be.

He turns back to face you, hooking his thumbs into your panties with raised eyebrows. You nod, and he pulls them down, letting you hold onto his shoulder as you step out of them. The loss of the last piece of fabric reveals a few more love bites, completing the path they all led to your core.

"Are you coming in with me?" You murmur, your chin dipped low as you watch him move your clothes to the hamper.

He turns his head to you briefly with a quick smile. "'course," He's already hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He hesitates before pulling them down, his gaze softer when he looks at you again. "Do you want me to?" He's worried he's gotten ahead of himself.

"Of course I do," You reply earnestly. It's so Sam to ask that when you've been together for years.

He smiles, the tension in his body relaxing as his hands move back to his boxers. Although you're very familiar with watching him strip, the softness in your demeanour doesn't change. In other words, you were all fucked out. For a good while.

He hesitates again, his boxers still on, God, was he trying to tease you? It's not like you were needy or anything, no, but you always want to see him.

"Alright, sweetheart, c'mere. Let's get you in." With one hand encompassing yours and the other steady on your waist, he keeps you balanced as you step in.

"Careful, baby," He murmurs as he helps you lower down into the hot water, internally scared out of his mind that you're gonna slip. Only once you're entirely settled does he finally pull off his boxers, stepping into the bath behind you. He settles his legs out so you're sitting between them, and lets out a sigh when he tugs you to his chest.

The water settles, reducing to soft noises as his fingers gently move up and down your forearm. He lets his eyes fall shut as he murmurs gently, his chin moving against your shoulder.

"You should've just stayed in bed, baby. Or if you wanted to get up you should've woken me."

You sigh. You knew something along these lines was coming.

"You barely sleep enough as it is. If I can get you to get at least five minutes more I will."

"Still. You know i'm here to help you. Whenever."

Silence falls between you, and you feel the tension in your muscles start to ease as you melt back against Sam's chest.

“Feel nice, baby? Water's good?"

You respond with a little hum, whispering; "Water's perfect,” with a teasing curl to your lips, digging at him just a little for his temperature preference.

He smiles back with an amused huff, burying his face into your shoulder blade as he starts pressing kisses to it, along each bruise, bite mark and hickey. He goes all the way up your neck, behind your ear. Your breathy sigh and the fluttering of your eyelashes don't go unnoticed by him.

He turns you gently in his arms so he has better access to your chest, pressing more gentle kisses to each mark on your neck and chest, his fingers tracing little hearts on the bruises he can't reach with his lips, like the ones on your stomach and hips.

His hands slide down to your thighs, rubbing along them, to the underside, and you can't help but think about the way that he—

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

—hooks his hands underneath your knees, hoisting your legs up so your calves rest on either one of his shoulders. You're both so hot, your bodies slick with sweat from so much exertion, and you were already tired enough from riding him for so long, but neither of you are done yet. He decided to grant you some mercy once you were slowing down, bouncing you himself 'till you both came, then letting you onto your back again.

His presence is heavy and lustful over you, his fingers pushing back the hair that sticks to your forehead as his hand dips down to angle his hardened cock. Both of you and the sheets are a mess of each other, your thighs and outside of your pussy slick from his saliva and when he came there.

"Sammy, I don't—" You whine, your hands squirming against the belt where they're tied in against the bedpost, wanting to grasp onto any part of him you can reach.

"Shh, c'mon, baby, I know. Just one more, yeah? I know you've got it." He coos, coaxing you over with a little tease of his tip to your clit, triggering your eyes to roll back.

"Sammy, I wanna— hold you, please," You beg, desperate whines leaving your lips.

"Oh, baby," He says condescendingly, a devilish smirk playing on his reddened lips.

"I think your hands are just fine there. Look good wrapped around my belt, yeah? Or would you prefer it between your teeth?"

His thumb comes up to your bottom lip as he speaks, pushing against your parted lips teasingly. He swipes a bit of spit there down your chin, and with a grin, he pushes his cock into your already abused hole, yet still giving you that delicious stretch nonetheless.

He wastes no time in setting a bruising pace, a hand sliding up your arm and gripping the skin underneath the belt harshly as he thrusts in and out of you.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes from how relentless he's being, tucking your head to the side into your arm as the hot tears slide down your burning red cheeks. You sob, and Sam moves his other hand that dug into your knee to grip the side of your head.

"Aw, honey, can't take my cock anymore huh? Maybe I just gotta lower your dose," He teases. He knows if he was seriously hurting you or making you uncomfortable you'd tell him to stop, you both communicate and trust each other enough to know that.

His teasing words only make you moan even more, shaking your head rapidly.

"No, no! Sammy please—"

"My baby's so desperate, huh? I'll give you more, baby, c'mon,"

And then he's sliding his arm under your hips, lifting them at an angle and pounding into you deeper and so hard you cry harder, a mess of tears and sobs until you're shaking, your pussy fluttering hard as you feel him cu—

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"So, what're we thinking for breakfast? Chocolate chip pancakes?" You're quickly snapped out of your daze, your eyes blinking wider, uncrossing your legs that somehow moved during your daydream.

It takes you a minute to think about what he said. Chocolate chip pancakes. Right. He knows you love those. Especially the way he makes them. He puts so many choc chips in there, there's more chocolate than pancake.

"Did those special psychic powers of yours include reading minds?"

He laughs, his palm rubbing up and down your arm.

"No, I don't even have those anymore, silly. I just know how to read you, baby." He smiles, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

"I know," You smile, relishing in his touch.

He then sets on the task of scrubbing you down, rubbing into your muscles with your favourite soaps. His big hands are perfect, digging into all the right spots. But eventually, after sitting against each other in the tub for so long, the water begins to grow cold, and goosebumps begin to rise upon your flesh. Of course, Sam feels it too, and shifts slightly behind you.

"Alright, we should get out," He rubs up and down your arms a few more times as you nod.

He gets out of the bath first, standing up behind you. He stifles a laugh when the water drips off his body and falls onto yours, watching your shoulders hunch and a grumbly noise leave your lips.

"Sorry, baby" He smirks through his apology, his fingers lightly brushing your head as he steps out onto the bath mat.

He turns around, extending his hands to help you. Your limbs definitely aren't as stiff, but they're still wobbly when you move them after sitting for so long. You rise on shaky legs, putting your weight into Sam's hands as he leans close, making sure you don't fall.

Once you get your bearings, standing in the tub, he looks at you with a little smirk, and you know he's gonna say something stupid.

"Is it awful to tell you that you look like a newborn deer?"

You scowl.

"I'm never letting you fuck me again."

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[syntheticsymp]

I have a challenge: try to make a nikto fic wholesome >:))

AHHHH FLUFF!! MY MORTAL ENEMY!!

Jk, I have come to accept your challenge. I really need to write some more wholesome stuff because I am out of practice on that front. This fic is really short, but I also have another idea for this ask I am working on that I may or may not post once it’s finished

So, without further ado, here’s my attempted fluff piece. Sorry if it’s a little cringe hehe

———

Lazy mornings with Nikto were your favorite. Most nights he couldn't fall sleep, yet would still wake up at exactly 5 in the morning. Military training instilled that internal clock in his mind, causing him to operate on a schedule you fought to keep up with.

So, whenever he actually slept in, or at least stayed in bed with you, the morning felt special.

You woke up with him staring at you. It was still startling, even after all this time. He didn't blink, his blue eyes piercing through your soul. He didn't care about your bed head or morning breath. When he said that you were his, he meant every part of you.

“Good morning, darlings,” you said with a sleepy smile. He always liked when you included his others in your nicknames, referring to him in plurals soothed a part of him that not many people understood. Besides, it was better than calling him the Russian word for ‘nothing.’

Nikto huffed, offering a slow blink as a response. He wasn't the most talkative in the morning, or ever, for that matter. You had grown used to it, fallen into sync with him.

You pushed yourself up in bed, just enough so you could roll over to the nightstand and grab the concoction of pills he was supposed to take every morning. Mood stabilizers, mainly.

He sat up with you, taking the pills without protest, swallowing without water. You made a note to remind him to drink something during breakfast, even if it was just coffee.

Coffee. That didn't sound too bad right now. Something biting, warm, to shake off your drowsiness. But you didn't want to break the quiet moment, even for the warmth of a cup of coffee. A warmth that sounded pretty nice right now.

The house was cold. It always was. The number of blankets didn't matter, the thermostat was always set in the sixties. Nikto ran far warmer than you, drawing you to him like a moth to flame.

Today was no different. You moved closer to him, each movement methodical. It took a long time for Nikto to get used to you. Every action you took you had to announce or make clear enough to not startle him. Even if he was low energy for now, that didn't mean he wouldn't snap on instinct. His mood swings were intense, but you were learning the patterns.

Softly, nearly touching but not quite, you asked permission to come closer. “Can I?”

“Да.” His accent was always stronger in the morning, soothing.

You leaned against his arm, resting your head against his shoulder. The light filtering through the window illuminated his patchy skin, casting a glow on his buzzed hair and making it seem lighter than it was. Maybe your feelings were conflicting with your vision because Nikto didn't look like a monster anymore. Just a person. A person you chose to stick beside, no matter what came next.

Slowly, like approaching an animal that could bite at any moment, you caressed the top of his hand that rested ontop of the duvet. You felt his eyes scrutinize your actions just as you were doing to his uncovered skin.

The tips of your fingers roamed over the scarred flesh, circling his joints, carefully tracing the knots as if you would accidentally irritate them. The strange burns resembled lightning, intertwining wires climbing up his arm. His scars were a part of him, but they weren't all there was to him, as much as he wanted others to believe that. He wasn’t Nikto, he wasn't Nobody, not to you.

You would have been content to stay like that forever, petting his blemishes, but Nikto had other ideas.

Without warning, he snatched your hand in his. You didn't dare pull away as he stared, seemingly trying to decide what to do next. There was a conversation in his head you simply couldn't hear.

Eventually, he pressed his lips to the palm of your hand, then gave a swift pat to your thigh. His weight on the bed shifted, nearly causing you to fall back on the flattened pillows as he stood, leaving you alone on the mattress.

The whine of disappointment you were about to give died on your lips as he stretched, his muscles flexing under a layer of fat and scars.

Beautiful in such a broken way.

You were lucky his voice was loud from the battlefield, because if not, you would have missed his next words.

“Come. We will make breakfast.”

That's all it took to get you out of bed, following him into the kitchen without a care. The rest of the world could wait. For now, nothing sounded better than Nikto’s pancakes.

[reiderwriter]

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 

"Sir, with all due respect -" 

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 

–X– 

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 

"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 

After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 

You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 

"What?" 

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch." 

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X– 

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 

Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 

"What do you want us to do?" 

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

[aerkame]

Hi! I hope everything is okay in your life!

Please when you can, no pressure: could you do some platonic headcanons with Sun Wukong from Nezha Reborn? Thank you! ^^

Sorry this took a while to get to! I am feeling like getting back to writing and drawing again though, it used to help me feel better quite a bit and things are calming down in my life now. ❤️

As for NR Wukong? I decided to rewatch the movie again just in case. He's a complicated character, way more complicated than I realized. I'm planning to write for him more often too and that needs a lot of researching on my part. He's not exactly as he makes himself out to be sometimes (you can see who he really is around the scene when he reveals his identity, he drops the silly act and gets serious).

Sun Wukong in Nezha Reborn is very similar to his book counterpart if you pay close attention to his mannerisms and behavior. He's not a good person, but not the absolute worst either. He's a morally grey and cutthroat person who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and he'll definitely say whatever is on his mind.

Wukong's a bit scary when you think about it. He ate another yaoguai, offered a piece of it to the guy who hired that assassin, he can move at speeds almost unseen, throw a dead dragon's body away by the whisker, and he's also a hitman... and yet, you two are somehow friends.

That being said... having a platonic relationship with him is going to be chill, overwhelming, or lively, maybe all three if you're unlucky.

It's not overwhelming for the reasons you might think it is, it's mainly because the dude needs to be in everyone's space. No seriously, when is he not close to someone that's in the same room with him? He'd be pretty clingy, probably hanging around (literally from the ceiling) near you if there's no one else around...he may or may not try to groom you if you have enough hair to do that as well. Just monkey business.

The Monkey King really lives up to his name and he acts like one too. Doing what he wants, going wherever he pleases...even if it's in your own home, he'll show up there eventually for whatever given reason, maybe he's just bored or maybe he's just trying to give you a good spook. What? He's a curious guy, he just wanted to see what his friend's place looks like. Don't ask how he knows where you live.

Oh did he ever mention he's bored and lonely? It's not good for a monkey to be alone for long, so you're gonna have to do for now! (lucky you)

Much like how he dresses, Wukong loves to show off what he has and places he goes. You've never been on a motorcycle before? Well say no more! Ol' Sun is going to show you around the place on his cool bike. It roars too! He's 100% going to make sure he's revving that thing as loud as he can just to scare you and get a reaction. Maybe scare a nearby stranger walking by too.

Probably pulls a few tricks on you here and there just cause. He may or may not have taken your favorite shirt and hid it somewhere up high in the pipes and returned it while you weren't looking just to mess with you.

At the end of the day though, he's not so bad to be around. Just try not to stir up any trouble with yaoguais or shady figures. The old king would rather not get himself involved with any affairs, but he cares, and he'll admit that if something happened to you it'd just be another scar over his heart. He's just so tired...

[hbheavensent]

Eve/Charlie

The long awaited and requested Eve and Charlie post is here! HEAVY TW on the Eve side of things for: Grooming, Postpartum Depression, The Whole Cain Thing, and suicide

So lets roll into it!

So we're actually gonna start with Charlie since she's on the lighter side of things lmao For her design, I mainly wanted to make her feel more like a main character when you look at her, add some interest to her look while still keeping it simple enough so The Viewer tm can project onto her and find her approachable. I also wanted her to look a lot more like a mix of her mother and father while mostly keeping the obvious "child of the devil" thing. I took away a lot of her red in favor of a bright yellow to make her stand out against most of the Pride Ring, and I added in the goat features with a heavier hand than the show does. She also distinctly has Eve's eyes with little hearts in each of them, because that's just. Cute as fuck. And as a bonus, her Eve-Like features down to her natural optimism and sweetness is HAUNTING for Adam. A huge reason why he's so aggressive with her is the only way he deals with his issues are to forget about them or get rid of them. (Apart of why Charlie has to deal with Adam at all is that Lucifer knows that it would upset the guy.)

Then there's Charlie's Demonic Form, she adds a total of 2 inches to her height (lmao) and gets a more hellish color pallet. I wanted it to feel magical girl-esk which is something I'm drawing from her original transformation sequence in the show. Really heavily leaning into the demon thing with her horns getting longer and that streak in her hair desaturating along with her skin. I really disliked that Charlie's Big Fight outfit was so simple so I may have overcompensated but I enjoy the colors. The one arm not having armor is because I imagine her still using the shield as her main weapon. Also, a small detail is her hands are a bit bigger and more claw-like on purpose.

For her story/personality, I'm keeping her naive attitude and her nearly sickening optimism. A lot of that has to do with Lilith desperately keeping her happy as a means of distracting herself until she "disappears" and in part due to Lucifer heavily sheltering her. I've mentioned it before but it does not make sense for Charlie to be 200 years old so I'm knocking it down to 20 years. She's wildly bright eyed and bushy tailed. The reason she has the idea to redeem sinners at all is because she wants Lilith to be able to see Heaven, which because Lilith is dead missing, isn't going to happen.

But she doesn't know that! So it's fine!

She meets Vaggie much the same way, though Charlie is nice enough to know what Vaggie is- it's more of a secret to everyone else in the Hotel than herself. This is also how they come up with the idea to attack back, which Charlie is hesitant to do until it comes down to the wire. She's not a huge fan of violence, naturally.

Charlie's relationship to her father is.. strained, because the second she becomes a person- starts having her own opinions and all that, Lucifer is no longer interested. Lucifer is especially uninterested in the Hotel, he doesn't believe sinners should have the second chance even if they could have it. So Charlie's secondary motive is to prove to him that anyone can be redeemed and that they deserve it, which is something she'll have to reconsider as she gets to know her residents.

For Eve, who makes me so god damn sad, I wanted to show the light leaving her eyes Post Apple Incident. I really wanted to give her curly hair and make her just an adorable cutie patootie. In her Garden Version I gave her these sort of magical birthmarks to symbolize that she came from Adam's rib. I also gave her a tooth gap, because I think it's just plain adorable.

Then as she gains free-will and is banished to Earth she loses that bubbly personality and becomes more and more curt as she becomes a mother. The scar on her hand is from getting it caught in a thorn bush, which admittedly I don't think it looks like that but I'll go back to fix it later. I also kinda deflated the volume in her hair to make her look a touch more downtrodden.

THEN there's her Hell Version, I completely desaturated her besides the red and made her hair more sharp and contained in two short twin braids. I tried to allude to Roo's original design as much as I could by keeping her checkered shirt and the thorn motif- but I wanted to show that her and Adam have very similar tastes, with their leather and spike, punk-like outfits. I also gave her "apple bottom jeans" (they're actually bell bottoms but hush), and a moon pendant that she turned into a bracelet that she got from Lilith.

I imagine Eve has a lot of plant/thorn based powers and can meld into shadows- but I really haven't got all of that sorted.

For her story, and this is where it gets intense so this is your final warning, I wanted to really showcase how wrong Lucifer did her. Not only does she have trouble making Adam happy in the garden, which was hard with his first wife currently being lured in by The Literal Soon To Be Devil... But she also was currently being tempted. Any time her mood soured, Lucifer was there to tilt her chin up and tell her everything she wanted to hear. So of course she trusted him, he was nothing but nice! He always talked about how much he loved her, loved Lilith, loved Adam... So when she was offered The Apple, she took a bite grateful to be included. Adam was a little too late to stop anything, not that he could have but what's one more pound of salt in the wound.

In the same breath Lilith and Lucifer were cast out, Eve was to be dammed to Earth. Adam demanded to go with her, he didn't want to be alone. God, he couldn't do that. So, off they went. They quickly had a Horrible Time, but soon they had Cain. Cain was a sweet child originally, maybe a bit rough with animals and intense with his feelings but.. it really got bad when he was seven and Able was born. Able was a golden boy, no doubts about it.. And he wasn't Adams. Eve had met once again with her fallen friend, see she had just been miserable since being on Earth.. and there was one Angel she reluctantly missed. He always said the sweetest things, after all. Adam didn't notice or care, he loved his sons and was... frankly, too exhausted to notice. Eve after Able was becoming more and more withdrawn into herself, not really caring for ether kid as much as she probably should of. Falling into a deep depression and rarely even feeding herself, it was around this time that Lucifer stopped making his visits to Earth. Both due to Heaven being watchful of the new child and that he wouldn't want to "deal with all that" as he would put it.

When Cain killed Able due to his jealousy, Eve strangled her firstborn and proceeded to cry for the remaining hours of the day. Until Adam came to bury them, she didn't have the strength to do so herself and ate hemlock that same night.

She woke up in Hell, taking a lot of solace in Lilith and Lucifer's company for many years. Lilith naturally missed her and Lucifer was happy to have his "toy" back. (His words, we hate him.)

It took her awhile to adjust but as humans started flooding into hell (post Adam death and then post evolution) she found solace in taking advantage of others, it made her feel powerful. Something she never felt, in control. Yet, she still ended up visiting her favorite couple from time to time for quick kisses and any kind of social engagement. At some point she takes on the nickname of Roo (short for Root, short for Root of All Evil) and is a sort of legend among Sinners.

Later rather than sooner, one of these meeting with just Lucifer ended up with Lucifer wanting a child from her, he promised that she could try again as a mother. She agreed to have her, gave birth to her... but once she saw Charlie's face? She couldn't do it. She couldn't raise a child again even after thousands of years, so.. she left Charlie with Lilith, who never got the chance to have a child and got out of there. Lilith was happy to raise the kid, have any sort of distraction from Lucifer's gilded cage. So, Eve went into hiding in hell and is currently still avoiding Lucifer's eye. Eve only really started killing, gaining souls, and becoming prominent again after Lilith's disappearance. Enraged and ultimately scared for her situationship/best friend, thinking that Lucifer must have done something so she needs real power to question him.

Naturally since being in Hell for a long time she'd learned that he's Actually Not Good and was Just Lovebombing her, but it doesn't stop her from missing him from time to time. And her literal soulmate (Adam) is forever out of reach unless he's in Hell killing Sinners, and she's not so sure he wouldn't hurt her after years of memories distorting and emotions being built up.

Anyway that's... pretty much all I have to say. It's hard to summarize so I apologize if anything is unclear. I want to talk about Eve so much but I find myself just Making Noise instead of having comprehensive statements sometimes. There's also a lot I still have to figure out with Cain/Able and Adam so, we'll get there eventually.

Also here's the line up as per usual.

And a zoom-in on the Morningstar family (+ Eve)

[thollandneedy]

Hallo! Can you write something about Peters and readers first make up? Doesn’t have to be anything too nsfw 😽

A/n: BABY I'M SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND! I'm a college student and english teacher so my schedule is crazy. Thank u for the request tho! I hope you like it

Warnings: Actually just heavy make out

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Truth or dare- Peter Parker

Y/n was never the kind of girl who had many friends, mainly because she was completely excluded from social circles at school due to her lack of boldness. Y/n wasn't one for going to parties, drinking until she dropped, and having sex with random boys just to count on her fingers how many people had already passed through her body. Unlike them, Y/n sought real connections with people who cared about her, and the only person she could think of was Peter Parker.

The boy with the brown eyes and messy curls had always been there for her, cheering her up when no one had asked her out on Valentine's Day or even when she had her first break-up in the first year of high school. Third year was about to end, and it wasn't as if she'd never done anything with a boy, but it had never been like it was with Peter.

And it all happened over a game of truth or dare.

“I don't understand how you can be team Conrad.” Y/n says to Peter while watching the show.

“I'm not, but I think he's misunderstood.” Peter retorts, settling down on the sofa in Y/n's living room.

“He was literally an asshole with Belly, and when he had the chance to date her, he just broke it off because he didn't want to get involved in a relationship after his mother died.” The girl pressed the pause button on the remote control, turning to the brunette as she explained her thesis.

“And Jeremiah has always wanted everything that was his brother's. I like him better than Conrad in some ways, but there's no denying that Conrad loved Belly and Jeremiah was just in love.” Peter turned his torso towards the girl who had the light of the television reflected on her skin and her long black silk pyjamas.

“Oh, for God's sake” The girl throws her head back, laughing to herself.

“I can't believe we're discussing 'The summer that I turned pretty', while your parents are at a fancy, expensive dinner, probably filling up on wine to catch up later.” Peter says, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time.

“Oh, Peter! Shut up, that's disgusting!” Y/n exclaims, covering her ears.

“We should do something fun.” Peter says, tossing his cell phone next to the empty candy bags and approaching his best friend.

“Like what?” The girl asked, approaching him, who gave her a thoughtful look.

“I don't know. What's your idea?” Peter replied, crossing his arms exposed by the 'Star Wars' short-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

“Truth or dare?” Y/n suggested, drawing a laugh from him.

“Just us?” Peter asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Hey! My puppy's in the living room too, you know?” Y/n points to the other side of the room, where her puppy is camping out on a pink rug, sleeping peacefully.

The room had low lights, while some windows were open so that the cold air could enter the room and the blankets became more and more usable. It was almost a ritual that every Friday, Peter and Y/n would get together to go out after school, it could be any kind of activity, but just the two of them. Not that they didn't have other friends, but unlike anyone else, they both had an energy that no one else could match. It was as if they were the only people who really understood each other, and that made them inseparable. Some people said that friendship between a man and a woman never worked out, but for them, it was never a fact that prevented intimacy.

Peter and Y/n shared everything, even the most intimate things they could tell someone.

“Okay, okay.” Peter raises both hands in an act of surrender. “You start since you had the idea.”

“Truth or dare?” The girl asks, placing both hands between her legs.

“Truth.”

“Why did you stop liking Liz Allen?” Y/n asked, causing the brunette to react with a silent ‘wow’, drawing a laugh from her.

“Um, I kind of understood that we were never going to have anything. After I kissed her the first time, I just had that feeling that she wasn't the right person, you know? And I don't want to bet my cards on something that could go wrong.” Peter replied, staring into the tired eyes of Y/n, who was leaning back against the colorful cushions of the light sofa.

“I want the truth too.” The girl anticipates his words.

Peter thought carefully before asking, allowing his curiosity to go beyond his decency.

“Did you and your ex… you know? You never said anything, so I assumed you'd never done anything, but I don't know? Maybe you didn't want to tell me.” Peter gets lost in the middle of his explanations, causing his friend to put one of her hands over her own mouth to cover her loud laughter.

“Peter, you naughty boy.” Y/n jokes, throwing one of the pillows that was on his back at the boy, who quickly manages to catch the fluffy object. “Shit, sometimes I forget you have superpowers.”

“That's right,” he says, throwing the pillow back at the girl, who smiles and tries to cover herself with the brown blanket.

“Um, no. We didn't get past second base, but I didn't care much about that either. I think it was even better that it didn't happen, because I feel like I would have regretted it.” Y/n replied, looking at his fingers as he said it.

“And why do you think that?” Peter asks, laying his shoulder against the cushions.

“I can't say. I think it's the same thing that happened with Liz. She just… wasn't the right person, you know?” Y/n replied, smiling emotionlessly.

Peter didn't see Y/n as a possible girlfriend, not least because it had never crossed his mind that he might have feelings for her. The brunette told himself that Y/n was the only person he could ever think of breaking his heart with, as she was too valuable to him to have any other feelings for her, which would eventually end their years of friendship. However, something inside him seemed to want to jump out of his chest and propose something.

“I want a dare this time.” Peter announced.

“Wow, Peter Parker being radical.” Y/n jokes. “What do you have in mind for a challenge? Eating cinnamon?”

“Kissing you.” Peter says, causing Y/n's face to lose the smiling expression on his lips, as if his stomach had dropped.

Like Peter, Y/n didn't think of him as a possible romance, even though she occasionally dried him off in the gym when she was doing bench presses. However, there was no kind of romantic involvement that could affect their friendship to the point of breaking up, since the idea of not having each other seemed to be suffocating.

“I think the wine we drank was spoiled.” Y/n comments jokingly. “Seriously, Peter. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“I think a bad idea would be for us to stay with people who could hurt us. If we did it together, it wouldn't be bad because we already know each other, you know?” Peter explains, standing up.

“So you're proposing that we take each other's virginity?” Y/n frowned, still feeling her heart leap out of her chest.

As much as he wanted to fight the feeling, his brain kept getting lost in a thousand and one thoughts.

“Well, it would be more yours than mine.” Peter commented, looking away, causing an insight to flash through Y/n's mind as he remembered that his best friend was no longer a virgin.

“And then we'll pretend it didn't happen?” Y/n also stood up, taking the brown blanket she had on top of her.

“I'll act however you want me to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Peter says, still unable to decipher whether the questions being asked were a yes or a no.

Y/n bites her lower lip, quickly analyzing all the possible possibilities she can think of. The girl denied it to herself, taking a deep breath and giving up. The screen on her cell phone was only eight in the evening, so she would have time before her parents got home and possibly disrupted something between the two of them.

“Are you sure about this? I don't want it to be something impulsive.” Y/n confesses.

“I would never hurt you.” Peter holds one of her hands, allowing his torso to come closer to hers.

Their eyes meet in a second, as if everything is silent. Parker smiles, expressing a line, and then squeezes the delicate hands of the girl whose heart was about to burst out of her mouth.

“I want you to be able to have a good time, with someone you trust and who won't pretend they don't know you when it's over.” Peter says, drawing a silly laugh from her. “But if you don't want to, that's fine too. We pretend to be drunk and forget about it in the morning.”

Silence hangs in the air once again, and the sound of cars honking are the only sounds that can be heard. Y/n could feel her legs getting weaker and weaker, and her chest heavier as she looked at every detail of Peter. His innocent eyes, his brunette hair that came down in a few messy curls and small expression lines in his eyes from smiling too much. Y/n approaches him, making their airs mingle.

“ Is everything all right?” Y/n asked, almost touching Peter's soft lips.

“Please.” He says almost pleadingly, until their lips meet.

Peter kissed her as if he didn't want her to slip out of his arms, while the girl's delicate fingers found the boy's brunette curls.

It was a strong kiss, with a rush and readiness to do anything.And as much as they had once said that they would never think of each other in a sexual way, it seemed that their bodies didn't think so. It was urgent, suffocating and needy. Y/n ran his nails down the back of his best friend's neck, drawing a gasp from him.Peter responded with kisses that went down to her neck, leaving no marks, but rather wet spaces all over it, causing her hair to stand on end and her eyes to close. “You're so beautiful.” He says between wet kisses.

“And you're very hot.”

The girl's hands go down to the hem of Peter's pajamas, feeling his abdominal muscles and warm skin. Peter smiles to himself as he feels his best friend's cold hands touching him, not guiding her so that she feels comfortable enough to do what she feels like doing.

Peter feels his sweatpants getting tighter and tighter, while Y/n's body seems to be begging to be touched in every way. The girl's hands shyly descend briefly to the hem of the brunette's pants, but quickly return to his abdomen as if she were just playing with him. A dangerous game.

The brunette continues kissing her neck, until one of his hands passes behind the girl's ass, lifting her up and placing her on his lap without taking his lips off her. His hands began to grip her buttocks firmly, pressing them closer and closer to him. Y/n moaned low in response against Peter's ear, giving him permission to return his lips to hers, hungrier and hungrier as she was. Their tongues battled for dominance, making their tastes mingle.

“Peter.” Y/n said softly, holding his head gently.

“Yes, love.” Peter stops immediately.

“Take me to my room.” She asks with reddened lips.

“Whatever you want.”

[oobbbear]

This rant has 1 target audience and it’s me sorry I like to talk about my unfinished/abandoned stories like they’re successful tv shows and I’m the director getting interviewed about the little details of said show

I love afterland postal so so so much you don’t know how hard it was for me to cut it, but it got to the point that it’s effecting my mental health so I had to stop it. His story in the afterlife is a healing journey, so for that healing journey to be effective I have to make the downfall in his past life hurt, like, HURT hurt, and I went a bit too far that and focused on it a bit too much that I was not working on the healing part anymore. Everyday I regret the making of water angel cause it ended being my fav instead of the protagonists and it being the physical manifestation of death made me focus on the downfall of the story too much, until it literally just crumbled to the ground. If I pick back up Dolus’s story one day I will cut out water angel entirely and maybe most part of his past life, focusing mainly on the afterlife part and how he recovers/deal with his past traumas and rid of bad habits. I want to draw this gremlin again so so bad.

Afterland Postal is a story about learning to love life through death. I like to draw Dolus with CT moon and Callisto sitting together because all three of their stories are about “learning to love life again through the death”. In Dolus’s case is his literal death. For CT moon is him fantasizing death. And for Callisto is through the death of her old life.

After the “death” all three of learned to love themselves again by traveling. They see the world in different perspectives, goes out of their bubbles and get a taste of the wild possibilities of what life has to offer.

For Dolus, I specifically placed him in this post office that delivers mails to the living plane so he can run around experiencing the world but doesn’t have to deal with life? One of his big thing is that he enjoys simply existing, he likes observing the world, feel his surroundings, I had an entire chapter that’s describing how he sees the world through his 5 senses. The feelings are the only thing he enjoyed about life, now he’s a ghost life doesn’t have effect on him anymore, he can really slow down sit down and look at the world he didn’t have the time to look at before, see what he missed and what he may have never be able to see.

For CT moon is basically all described in that If my world goes Bang comic.

Callisto is a different case cause she doesn’t die, strongest fucking character in my stories she survived and very passionate about living. In the original plan after her finding Hester and having Hester’s soul freed, she’s gonna go and travel the world. She has been living in this little house in the middle of nowhere for good half of her life, having her burned down her past and moving on to a new one is good for her. I had a lot a lot of sketches that is just her traveling, I used this as a chance to expand on this weird magical world she lives in, so many cool places and concept. (Also she started dating people again wohoo) I really wish I didn’t burn myself out after that animatic this story would have been so fun to work on.

SPEAKING OF TRAVELING AS A HEALING MECHANISM☝️I m gonna go on a mad Orange Knife spoiler rant since I don’t think there’s a single soul still reading this thing. In Moondust & Natto plot, Moondust really really wanted to see the world with Natto, she loved the world she loved life, in her eyes the outside world is a struggle but one she would fight for because the sunset is beautiful and the grass is soft and for that the hardship is worth it, she loved the world so so much and she wanted to have Natto experience it too. Freedom was a large part of her soul and being add to OK’s collection permanently took that away. She never got to see it again not even the part of her that got added to worm made it out, her soul is killed long ago and body died with the fire that led to Worm and the remaining crew’s freedom, which honestly I think she would be happy knowing that her death freed Natto in the end. She would be mad knowing the person who killed her is freed too but she would understand if she knows Worm’s situation better. After Natto is free I’d like to think he carries a piece of Moondust with him so in his heart he completed their dream, and they can finally experience the world together.

It’s 2am and nothing is making sense sent post to tumblr.com go

[solariawhispers]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ Illumi Zoldyck NSFW Alphabet ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

a/n: this took me a very long time to write and i nearly thought i wouldn't be able to finish... big shoutout to my gorgeous beautiful friends who encouraged me and helped me!

also, I'm writing it from my phone so idk how the layout is gonna look on computer... my apologies if it looks bad :P

warnings: smut, not readproof. mdni!!!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The concept of aftercare is still foreign to Illumi. He will hold you in his arms, tightly and quietly, but if you want some water or a snack, you will have to ask. Surely, he will be more than glad to cater to your requests.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Illumi's favorite part of himself is... his hair. He puts effort into growing it and taking care of it, he knows that it draws attention and he also knows that you like it, an additional reason for him to take care of his long strands.

His favorite part of your body is your mouth. You use your mouth to say kind and sweet things to him, to smile at him, to kiss him, to moan for him when he's fucking you just how you want it. And of course, your mouth looks particularly beautiful wrapped around his cock, sucking him off and pleasuring him so devotedly.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Illumi has a lot of outdated ideas about sex. Therefore, he thinks that he should always cum inside, no questions. It's exactly how nature wants it, so there's no reason to go against it, right? But once you insist and tell him that it would turn you on so much if he came all over your face/body, he obliges. He learns a lot of things with you!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Illumi will never admit it, but he would love to be used by you, to see you completely horny and hungry for him. It's the biggest proof that you desire him, that you want him. Kiss him hard, bite his neck and whisper in his ear how wet he gets you. Push him onto the bed and fuck him good, dig your nails in his chest and moan the most lewd stuff out loud and boom, Illumi is wrapped around your finger!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

One would say that Illumi is inexperienced because for the Zoldycks, casual relationships aren't a thing and the men of the family aren't going to waste their seed with any woman out there. That's the partial truth. But mainly, Illumi is inexperienced simply because he doesn't really care about sex. We're gonna talk about it later.

It changed after he met you, and he's getting used to it, he enjoys it. In fact, when Illumi made up his mind about you (because you were destined to be his whether you liked it or not) he knew that sex would be an important part of your relationship, so he educated himself on the feminine body and ways to give pleasure to a woman.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Usually, Illumi goes for missionary: simple, traditional, practical. But he really likes to see you on top. You look so beautiful riding his cock, your hands on his chest and your face flushed, the cute moans and sighs you make, because he is the one making you feel so good.

Being on top doesn't mean that you're in charge, though. Illumi will hold you by the hips and pound into you until you reached your limit.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Absolutely serious, oh please. It took him a dreadful time to open up to love, to intimacy, to you. Sex is a sacred ritual to him, especially if there is a special occasion going on, like your wedding night or an anniversary. Don't you dare laughing or joking in a moment like this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is very well groomed, his body naturally has little hair so Illumi has all the rest waxed off. It's that same old-fashioned idea of "hygiene", and he expects you to do the same.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Illumi is pretty... intense. He has his eyes on you all the time, analyzing your every reaction, microexpression, every sound you make. If your cunt squeezes him in a different way, he will investigate why, and it might turn you into an overstimulated mess until he figured it out.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jacking off is not really his thing. Why would he do it when he has you? And Illumi is a very self-controlled man, if he's away on a mission and gets horny, he can suppress it until he goes back home to you, but brace yourself for a long and intense night.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is not the most self-aware guy around the block, and it's the same with his kinks. You're the one who perceives what he likes. His breeding kink is visible in his obsession with cumming inside you. You notice his size kink right in the way he only buys you low heels, he likes you small and needing his protection. He also has a praise kink, blushing hard every time you praise him, during sex or not.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, obviously. As I said, Illumi is quite old-fashioned when it comes to sex, and he doesn't see a reason to fuck you somewhere else if not in the privacy of your shared sanctuary. There's also the bathroom, where a bath/shower together leads to sex eventually.

If you're traveling with him somewhere, he will take you back to the hotel and satiate his hunger for you. If you're at a restaurant or simply going out with him, he will wait until it's time to go home, or cancel everything to go home immediately if he's too needy for you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Illumi likes it when you put in the effort to seduce him. So lacy lingerie, a thin and revealing silk gown, a new perfume, the way you do your hair and your makeup, or even if you're simply undressed but being blunt about his desire for him, it's such a turn on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's definitely not going to share you. If you ever fantasized about a threesome, forget it. You're his. Also, Illumi would never give you too much control. Don't expect him to let you tie him up or blindfold him, allowing you to be on top and chase your own pleasure is already enough.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Obviously, he enjoys both, but giving comes easier to him. It's far easier for Illumi to simply kneel in front of you, put your leg on his shoulder, remove whatever piece of clothing is in the way and start eating. It makes him feel so relaxed, being with his head buried between the warmth and softness of your thighs, hearing the lovely wet sounds of your pussy and your sweet mewls. Eating your pussy is his safe space!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I'd say that Illumi is rough and sensual at the same time. You're a delicate, exquisite porcelain little thing in his hands so he is careful. And yet, his desire for you consumes him, he never has enough of you. He wants more, more of your moans, more of the faces you make, more of your pussy around him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are pointless to Illumi. He wants to take his time with you, he wants to fuck you in the comfort of your bed. But if you're really needy, he will give you what you want.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Illumi prefers what's known, comfortable, tangible. So no, no risks. Don't even bother bringing up a cheap magazine article about having sex in a risky place to spice up the relationship, he won't listen. All you can get is a new sex position, only if it's not too complicated.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If you think you can make Illumi Zoldyck exhausted after sex, think again! This man is a machine. He lasts long and can go many rounds, if he wants to fuck you all night long, he will fuck you all night long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No toys, not for him and neither for you. Again, he has an outdated mentality, Illumi is the kind of man who thinks that if his woman owns a toy, she won't need him anymore.

However, one day Illumi comes back home from a mission without telling you, as a surprise, and he is mesmerized with the sight of you using a clit sucker and moaning his name while burying your nose in one of his shirts. <3

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Many would say that Illumi likes to tease to punish you, that's not true. In fact, Illumi never punishes you (and you're not crazy enough to fuck up and test his patience), even in an hypothetical yandere scenario, he finds your antics adorable and endearing. So he likes to tease because he wants to take his sweet time with you, he wants unhurried sex with you, to use his six senses while making love.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Almost inaudible. All you get from him are breathy gasps and soft little grunts. If you play your cards right, he might let some strangled moans slip out.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It's a common idea that Illumi had a crush on Elvira Mistress of Evil when he was younger. Actually, he had a thing for Fran Fine!

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

20 cm. Rosy pink tip. Slightly curved to the right, very subtly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Quite low, actually. You're the one who has to initiate sex with Illumi, and it made you stay up many nights wondering if he didn't desire you. Soon you learned that Illumi didn't grow up with a normal, healthy life and he was taught that everything that wasn't helpful for the family's business was just a liability; it was a slow process to teach him that not everything needs a purpose. But when he thinks it's time to have an heir, he won't leave you alone! :3

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rarely. Illumi stays awake until you're asleep, and he will stay awake watching you sleep, he will only drift off if he wants to. Most of the time, he falls asleep once he's satisfied of looking at you. <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧

[luckyarchivist]

Hi there!! Hope you don't mind the ask, but I saw you reblog my post about what I think of the updated demo. Thank you for adding ur thoughts to it <3 and sorry it spoiled a few things. I didn't go too in depth because I didn't want to reveal EVERYTHING that happens, but there were some things I needed to spoil for clarity's sake. To me, the whole thing just felt like we were frogs being tossed into boiling water straight away, unlike the prev version of the demo, where we entered cool water first. Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts about it all. I'm a big fan of all your touchstarved analyses, and I immediately thought of your "honesty and Ais" post when they took out that ONE line and replaced it with a flirty comment (trying to avoid spoilers here too haha, but you made a post on it!). Take care!! And I hope you enjoy the rest of the demo!!

Hello, allswell! I'm back, and I've played Leander's route. Don't worry about your post's spoilers; I went in knowing I'd be spoiling myself, you gave plenty of warning.

I wanted to tell you about my general thoughts on his route (since...that's the ask) and also answer your question in tags of "whether Leander's manipulation is more subtle in 1.0 or 2.0".

I also want you to know that my original, full answer to this ask was so long that I'm just going to post it separately 😭 I realized I had waaaay too much to say about Leander's post-tavern route. So, for now, I'll try and generally sum up my thoughts and answer your questions.

First: What were my thoughts on Leander's route?

I loved it. I loved it. Not necessarily all the minutiae—

Are you fucking kidding me with this line? What the hell?

—but overall I really enjoyed it.

Anyone visiting from afar can read my initial notes about Leander's route in my longpost, but going into this, I definitely had some things I was looking for. Mainly, I wanted blushy Leander back.

Of course, I also read your post, allswell (and please read their thoughts if you're interested, other readers!) where you expressed feeling like Leander was now too easy to see through and too suspicious because of the loss of his cute, friendly personality.

I would say, for both of us, that we're at a disadvantage in the sense that we already know Leander is Not Good. We know all about the marketing; we've been reading people's analyses and headcanons. And we connected all of those to The Baby, 1.0 Leander. 2.0 Leander is not the inoffensive pookie bear of the previous demo version, so it's much easier to be on guard around him because he's not as pathetic as before, even when he's not really being suspicious.

So, when going through his solo route, I told myself that I would be happy as long as Leander's new scenes felt like a satisfying accompaniment to his new archetype as the not-so-holy savior of the city. And I really, really felt like they did.

What absolutely enchanted me was the ways in which Leander and MC's interactions already embody "the cult of one": a level of emotional manipulation and abuse like you'd see between a cult leader and their followers, on the smallest possible scale. I'll go into these cult elements more in my to-be-written analysis(? Series of observations?), but I happen to have been watching a lot of cult content on YouTube recently and could not tell you how excited I was to recognize the signs so lovingly recreated in Leander's solo route.

This moves me quite neatly into your other question.

And that is: Do I think Leander's manipulation was more subtle in 1.0 or 2.0?

Before I answer this, I want to talk about my differing views of Leander 1.0 vs. 2.0, assuming (as the devs have said) that Leander hasn't changed, just that more of his later character has been revealed earlier.

In 1.0, Leander is playing a part. He is acting as someone who is very silly and very promiscuous and endlessly kind, despite his abilities as a mage and a leader, because that is what draws people in. That facade is his main weapon; it makes people lower their guards and trust him, even when anyone with some sense would be wary of a super-powerful magic user with an entire militia they can order around. It's an appeal to emotion. And I fell for it!

But that's not him, or rather, that's not the truest version of him. As a player, you get the shock of seeing his "true face" later in his route, and perhaps that is where his "monstrousness" comes from.

In 2.0, Leander is himself. And we see in his route that the cute, blushing Leander, who speaks highly of friends and foes alike, is not absent — he's still there, because that is him, too. It's just not played up to such a comical degree. That is because 2.0 Leander uses his authority to get people to trust him, rather than appealing to their emotions with cuteness.

Not only that, but this Leander is free to rely on his clout as a mage and a local political figure publicly because he has other weapons of manipulation that fit his image: he's an skilled wordsmith, and in that, an emotional puppeteer; he's the head of a tightly knit group that is clearly protective of him. If one thing doesn't work, he moves to the next. And it's much less jarring for a person (the MC) to learn that their righteous and gifted hero has a soft, obedient side than to learn that their subby little boyfriend is running his gang like a military cult. So, if needed, 2.0 Leander could bring that 1.0 facade out later in the story without causing MC mental dissonance; it's just another tool.

In this scenario, the player already knows Leander's nature, even if MC does not; their horror creeps in as they watch their MC struggle to leave the web Leander is weaving for them. It's possible that, if you choose certain choices while playing his route, you may not even realize the depth of his manipulation until it's too late.

So, was Leander's manipulation more subtle in 1.0 or 2.0? I think that depends on what the player is more susceptible to. I'm the type of person who's a sucker for a boyfailure, so 1.0 Leander would sneak up on me. But for those who need a knight in shining armor, one who they know will protect them no matter what, 2.0 Leander is the perfect predator.

[milk-ly]

Do you ever think about how Kotoko was pretty much Fuuta’s ideal self.

They both wanted to be the same thing, a long-awaited hero, but Kotoko actually “succeeded” while Fuuta “failed.” And that’s also how we judged them in t1. The fanbase thought of Kotoko as the strong, cool vigilante who took down a bad guy, but Fuuta was viewed as a brutish coward who hid behind a screen and killed an innocent teenager.

You could partially link that to the fact that in the end, their convictions were very different. Kotoko has supposed strong convictions but Fuuta seems to parrot things he probably heard on twitter to reinforce himself that he DOES have "strong convictions" like a hero/vigilante (like kotoko) does. Yet, his actual goal was never really Justice at all. Rather, it was all just to gain acceptance and connection. You can especially see that with how Fuuta stands firm in his ideals like he does with others but then immediately jumps to try and connect with Kotoko and impress her by parroting her words and opinions because he craves acceptance from someone whom he respects in some way.

Fuuta: "Ahh, yeah, Norway! The famous thing they have there!" This man clearly had absolutely never heard of it before until Kotoko brought it up. And he immediately pretended like he knew what she was talking about.

Another aspect is Fuuta's insecurities about how he doesn’t measure up to his ideals of being a strong, independent and responsible man. Like his want to protect others despite his cowardice. Or like how his ideal self in bring it on is seemingly taller and more confident.

Yet, Kotoko has constant traits and connections to masculinity (here's a great post about it by purgemarchlockdown) such as being tall, possessing fighting ability, not wearing more traditionally feminine clothes, and possessing traditionally masculine traits like strength and stoicism. Even stories about werewolves were traditionally more about men. While witch hunts, which Fuuta is connected to, mainly convicted women.

There's also the fact that Fuuta craves ally ship and Kotoko seems to be more well-liked than Fuuta even though they’re both rather standoffish. In fact, you actually see Fuuta going out of his way to interact with others (in his own way) more than Kotoko is throughout t1. (I believe he's the first character to give someone else a physical gift, even if it's just a tomato. And insists on giving Shidou his spinach in return when Shidou wants to give him his natto)

Here, Fuuta is the one who actually approached Mikoto to check on him. Fuuta cares and makes SOME effort to have a good relationship with others he's just uh. He's trying, okay.

Yet, in t1 at least, a good portion of the others generally disliked him or looked down on him in some way. Kotoko on the other hand was in pretty good terms with everyone until t2. (Aside from Mikoto, but that's because Kotoko doesn't like him, not the other way around) And considering the fact that Fuuta wants that acceptance so bad, Kotoko has that ideal.

And side note, do you ever think about how their murders frame both Kotoko and Fuuta’s ideal self as fallen heroes tainted by blood?

Or how these two saw each other as pretty similar at first before their true differences hit them both in the face?

And also how Fuuta starts t1 by seeing Es (and you) as the enemy but then draws a direct parallel between him and Es (and you) in t2? But Kotoko does the exact opposite, starting out in T1 and T2 trying to team up because of your similarities, and then ends up seeing you as weak by the end?

Ohhh 03 + 10 character foils…

[sissiarte]

THEY ARE HERE!!! I'm very excited to finally share the full designs hope you guys like them <3

These are only like a base, they'll wear more layers on top and have more weapons and armor some times (and like, wear other clothes) but I wanted to have at least one reference for myself that I can use and later on work on top of and give them more outfits (playing dolls with them basically)

I had a lot of thought behind the designs so if you're interested, there's an infodump below the cut. It's very long and messy so read at your own risk

I tried to have some sort of historical accuracy (even if it's a fictional story and the exact time period when it happens is ??) mainly bc I'm tired of how celts are portrayed in media (they wore tacky colors please stop with the grey brown leathers fur), and a bit bc I'm a nerd and I can't do anything if I don't do some research before.

On the other hand I wanted to make good character designs that told things about the characters and stuff, so I had to juggle a bit both things. Plus there's not much variation in clothing styles, so I had to do what I could.

I wanted to use colors, jewelery and styles to group or distinguish the characters. So Láeg and Emer wear a very similar color palette, Cú Chulainn has some blue in his mainly red outfit (and also the under tunic thing resembles Emer's) and Ferdia has some red in his mainly blue one.

Láeg and Cú Chulainn wear the same kind of thing, but I gave Cú Chulainn more layers in reference to the 34683 shirts thing. I went no pants wider belt for Ferdia bc honestly I didn't know how else to make a clear distinction as "this one character is from a different place", there's only so much you can do with the few styles there are.

Jewelery choices! This was a lot bc I really like torcs and I wanted to use them again to give Ulster characters and Connacht characters different kinds of torcs. My first instinct was to give Connacht those very heavy ones that have rings at the ends, but then I did some research and those were only found in england so. Then I went to look what kind of torcs were found in each place and I found that they were the same!!! Obviously!!! Bc they are next to eachother!!!

So I took creative choices and as I found some bracelets in Ulster that looked like torcs I went okay those done (plus they are way easier to draw) And I gave Ferdia the spirally one and Cú Chulainn the "bracelet" one. Plus gave a matching bracelet to Láeg. Emer wears a lunula bc her father is described as wearing one in The Hound of Ulster and I liked it.

(some pics for reference: from left to right the torc Ferdia wears, the bracelet Láeg wears and from were I based Cú Chulainn's torc, and the lunula Emer wears)

Also important, the headpiece Láeg wears. I used to draw Cú Chulainn with a similar one just because I liked it, but then after reading I liked that Láeg is the only one wearing it. At first I was going to give Emer a similar one but in the end decided against it to make it exclusive to Láeg and to not give her more jewelery than to Ferdia. I wanted Ferdia to wear a lot and be like, more stylish I guess bc I feel he cares about that stuff (I mean part of the bribe to fight Cú Chulainn was a brooch so)

And I think that's it! Sorry it was a lot hfasjkd but I wanted to share it. If there's something I have missed and you're curious to know about feel free to ask! I might have a long ass answer like this or it might be just because XD And if you have comments or opinions they are also welcome! I'm no expert or anything (just a big nerd) so I apreciate any insight.

And if you've gotten this far thank you for reading my yapping <3

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)