#this is really silly I just wanted to practice drawing him

[bull-at-the-gate]

Sehkmet the Just. Devoted Paladin of The Lord of the North Wind; The Wyrmking; King of Good Dragons; The Platinum Dragon Bahamut

More silly Tavs. haha can we tell that I started out drawing animals and have for way longer than I’ve drawn people?

Sehkmet’s an Oath of Vengeance Paladin and always keeps her word, or will die in the attempt.

I imagine she’s been resurrected once before after falling in battle against the cult of Tiamat.

She devoted her life to serving as an instrument for Bahamut’s vengeance after losing her clan to followers of Tiamat as a wee cub.

So she’s very devout, but also gets to be a whole himbo, as a treat. She and Hollow (my durge) would ask together with full earnestness ‘what animal is the pink panther’ and Sehkmet would probably forget after a week.

Some Headcanon-y Things

Heals by giving lil’ forehead kisses and will absolutely not tolerate anyone hiding injuries, she’s lost too many a good ally to let that slide.

Helps with cooking by prepping the food so Gale has a little less work to do; Can freeze food for later too

White Dragonborn are more adapt for the cold, so Sehkmet’s got a thick downy fur, ideal for cuddling; everyone has slept with at least once for the best platonic cuddles (maybe minus Lae’zel until much later)

Has no idea what a shirt is, not really, but she prefers to go without when resting. Only somewhat understands modesty, everything for Dragonborn is extremely internal so she understands in concept, but not necessarily for herself

Does laundry for everyone, finds the repetitiveness to be meditative and is particular about strong smells, so doing it is a win-win. Patches up any holes she finds too.

Fascinated by hair, loves to style it and learned how to when a few war clerics taught her to. Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale all thought she was giving them *the look* but she just wanted to play with and style their hair.

I need to practice muscular bodies a bit, but she’s built like a seven-foot tall truck and hits like a train.

Can only see out of one eye, lost total use of her right one while training to join her order but the vision had been failing most of her life.

She was a secret fan of *The Blade of Frontiers* before meeting Wyll because she’d heard he also only had one functioning eye and was still able to be a champion of the people.

did not, however, realize she was older than him. She’s still a fan.

Spends at least one evenings each tenday polishing and caring for the party’s armor, after proving to Lae’zel she did an acceptable enough job to be entrusted hers as well.

Scarily fast, especially out of her armor. She was too slow, once, to save a cleric who’d trusted her to be their shield. She’d vowed to never be too slow again, and she always keeps her word.

Offers mercy and a second chance unless it’s been proven to her that a beaten enemy won’t do better; She follows Bahamut’s own words on the matter, no justice without mercy and no penance without forgiveness

Would probably be a theater kid

Spars with Lae’zel and Karlach on the regular in camp. I like the idea that Dragonborn can replace teeth but it’s not common knowledge yet, so it’s funny to picture:

Karlach knocking out a couple teeth and being extremely apologetic and starts looking for the teeth

Sehkmet’s just confused because she’s assumed her whole life everyone’s teeth regrow and is confused why Karlach’s dragging Shadowheart over with her old teeth asking if she can put them back.

Lae’zel is amused (Gith definitely would also be able to regrow teeth, selectively bred warrior race and all) and uses the moment for one of her lovely little Githyanki supremacy tangents.

Sehkmet is just standing there, staring at the horizon in concern, like ‘You all don’t regrow teeth?!’ and thinking about how many belated apologies she needs to make

Karlach is still holding bloody teeth

Lae’zel and Shadowheart are fighting (flirting) again

Astarion is over by the cookout bugging Gale and watching the show

Gale and Wyll are still thinking at least they’re normal

the Emperor is still imploring you to eat a tadpole.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Drawing the Line - Amanda the Adventurer fantape

Edit: The title sounded a bit to serious for this silly little fic

Previous Tape

Riley takes the next tape and puts it into the VCR. The tape glitches a bit before it starts to play. The episode begins with Amanda holding a bunch of coloring supplies before noticing Riley. 

“Hi Riley,” Amanda whispers, “Wanna color with me?” 

“Amanda? Where did you go? I think the episode is about to start!” Wooly calls out. Amanda makes a shushing motion with her finger and hides behind the couch. “Oh… hi Riley. Have you seen Amanda?” 

“Nope. Why don’t I wait here and you go find her for me.” 

“Huh? Well… okay…” Wooly says with uncertainty. He walks away. Amanda switches the tape to her bedroom. Her dresser is now against her door. 

“What’s going on?” Riley asks. 

“Nothing!” Amanda laughs nervously in an extremely quiet voice, “I just… you’re leaving after this tape right? Wooly told me. So… I wanted to spend some time with you… like… just you…”

“Okay? And?”

“I don’t want Wooly to feel bad.”

“So you’re barricading your door and hiding from him?” 

“Okay I see how that’s not the best plan…” Amanda sighs. 

“Did you get in a fight or something?” 

“No… it’s just… we hang out like… almost all the time… and like… I wanted a little me time you know? I mean he got an episode almost all to himself, why can’t I have mine?” 

“And he doesn’t want that?” 

“I don’t know… Wooly is… sensitive. He seems to take the littlest things the wrong way. When I tried to tell him I wanted some alone-time he got really upset… and we had so much fun yesterday… I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“I think if anything is going to ruin it, it’s deliberately avoiding him and never telling him why.” 

“Yeah… you’re probably right.” Amanda sighs. She teleports Wooly into the room. 

“Wha? Why am- Oh! Amanda there you are!” 

“Hi Wooly…” 

“What’s wrong?” Wooly asks. 

“Um… Wooly?” Amanda pauses, she looks at Riley nervously.

“Go on.” Riley says. 

“Okay… Wooly… remember how I talked about wanting some me-time?” 

“Yeah…?” 

“Well… I think I wanna just have an adventure drawing with Riley today.”

“What? Why? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No Wooly you didn’t do something wrong stop asking me that.” 

“Okay…” 

“Look, you don’t like drawing and you don’t like hanging out with Riley. Right?” Amanda asks.

“I guess so…” Don’t just admit that! Riley thinks. 

“I want some me-time and you get a day off. Win-win right?” Amanda explains. Wooly looks kind of sad, “C’mon Wooly please?” 

“I guess…” 

“Great!” Amanda beams, gently pushing him out of the room, “Have fun!” 

“Amanda…” 

“Shush. Today, we’re drawing some pictures!” Amanda announces, dropping to the floor and opening her sketchbook and crayons. “C’mon you too!” Riley turns around and sees their sketchbook and colored pencils on the table. 

“Alright.” Riley smiles. This could be fun. 

“You know I really like to draw, do you like to draw?” Amanda asks. Riley types in yes.

“Oh please, you don’t have to use that. Just talk to me, please?” 

“Yeah, I love to draw. Kind of what I do for a living actually.” Riley answers. Amanda’s eyes widen and her whole face lights up with curiosity. 

“Really?”

“Yeah I design and rig v-tuber models for people.” they explain. Amanda looks… completely confused. Oh yeah… v-tubers weren’t really a thing back then huh? “I um… design characters for people and make animated models they can use to make videos with?” That is the worst explanation ever…

“Wow that sounds neat! I wonder if I could’ve done that…”

“I’m sure you could with time and practice. Once you get out I could teach you-” 

“If I get out…” 

“Ah-” 

“Nevermind… forget I said anything.” 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s draw! I’m thinking of making… an apple pie! What colors should I use?” Riley clicks on the silver and tannish color. The colors of the apple pie they made together. Amanda smiles and starts to color.

“You draw something too!” 

“Like…” 

“Anything you want.” 

“Alright…” Riley starts to draw Amanda being free in the real world. They look up at Amanda’s drawing, now she’s drawing Kate. 

“Kate was really nice… I used to talk to her all the time… I really liked her…”

“Yeah…” 

“I miss her…” 

“Me too…” Riley sighs. They start sketching Kate into the picture… without even realizing it. 

“Her hair was blond right?” 

“Yeah…”

“What color is your hair Riley?” 

“Blond… like hers.” 

“Mmm…” Amanda starts sketching the lonely kitten in a train, “I’d draw you too, but I can’t really see what you look like. It’s… blurry…?”

“I see…”

“And I can’t.” Amanda jokes. Riley doesn’t get it. 

“Amandaaaaa! Want some snacks?” Wooly barges in. Amanda looks… annoyed. 

“Wooly… I told you to leave me alone!” 

“I know I just… thought you’d be hungry?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Oh… okay… Whatcha drawing?” 

“I’ll show you I’m done.” Amanda says, covering her sketchbook. 

“Okay…” Wooly walks away, leaving the door open. Amanda reaches over and swats it shut with the tip of her hand. 

“That was close, he almost saw my warm up sketches.” Amanda chuckles bashfully, opening a new page. 

“I know your pain.” Riley whimpers. Amanda starts a new drawing. “Remember that anime I showed you from my phone?” 

“Madoka Magica? Yeah I loved it!” Amanda laughs, “But Wooly was so mortified, we thought we killed him!”  

“Yeah like, what is he a hamster? Wait- So… Could you even see it?” 

“Yeah because it was really close to the screen…” Amanda says.

“So if I…” Amanda looks up and sees Riley’s face EXTREMELY close to the screen. She jumps back in surprise. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” she gasps. 

“Well, can you see what I look like now?” 

“I can see your ginormous face!” Amanda shouts. 

“Yeah?” 

“Back away Riley you’re freaking me out.” 

“Aww… I thought you could draw me too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll draw you… as… best I can.” Amanda says, catching her breath. 

“Okay…” 

“Hey Riley look! It’s me back when I was still Rebecca!” Amanda beams, showing the rough sketch. In the picture Riley sees Rebecca, getting a big hug from Sam and Kate. On the side of Kate, a somewhat off version of Riley and Sophie are holding hands. On the side of Sam is Wooly.

“Wooly looks a bit lonely huh?” 

“What do you mean, he’s got all of us!” 

“And… he’s still a sheep.” 

“Well… I don’t really know or remember what Wooly looked like when he was human so…” Amanda shrugs. 

“He just looks… left out.” 

“No no you don’t get it at all. See, Sam and Kate are my family, and Wooly is like… my brother… I guess…? And you guys are all my friends! I care about you a WHOLE lot. But like… not as much as my family you know.” 

“Well, me and Sophie are holding hands.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want me to draw you kissing?” 

“Amanda… no… that’s not what I mean…” 

“Hmm… oooooh! I get it! What if I draw his sister?” Amanda suggests, “Remember, we saw her when Wooly’s memories were showing through the tapes that one time?” 

“But she’s… dead…” 

“So is Kate… and I still drew her here!” 

“I guess that’s true.” 

“She’s here in my heart! This picture will never come true anyway!” 

“What do you me-”

“Did you need any watercolors by chance?” Wooly asks. 

“Wooly…” 

“I found them in the living room and-” he sees Amanda glaring at him. “Sorry I’ll go.” Amanda waits till Wooly leaves and closes the door again. 

“It’s a picture… of when we escape…” Amanda sighs. “Well… my ideal of it anyway… you know… that I would be able to live with my dad… and talk to Kate… and hang out with you guys and Wooly… I bet in Wooly’s ideal world… his little sister would still be…” 

“Amanda…” 

“Just… let me have this little dream, okay?” Amanda asks, sounding like she’s going to cry. 

“Of course… but um… hey… Sophie and I were talking and… we were thinking… if we get you and Wooly out of here… we’d adopt you… and you can live with us…” Riley says. Amanda looks at them sadly in silence for bit before saying:

“Riley… if it turns out-” she stops. “Don’t ever mention this to Wooly okay?” 

“Okay…?” 

“Can you promise me something?” 

“Depends…” 

“Can you get me out of here… no matter what it takes?”

“Of course!” 

“Even if it means… will we disappear?” 

“What?”

“If it turns out that we can’t get out of here… back in the real world… if we can’t escape without disappearing… you would still let us out of here right?” 

“Amanda…” 

“You would still set us free, right?” 

“If that’s what you want…” Riley sighs, “if that would put your heart at peace…” Amanda smiles tearfully.

“Thank you Riley… 

“But… What about Wooly?” Riley wonders. Amanda freezes. 

“Would it… be bad if I said… that’s his decision?” Amanda questions, “Like… I don’t want to be here anymore… and while I’d hate to leave him here… I guess I’d get it if he wants to stay… I really am a bad friend huh? Here he is all worried that I’m gonna leave him behind and… if I really had the chance… a real chance to get out of this h--- I’d take it without a second thought.” 

“I mean… it’s complicated…” Riley hears a soft thud outside the door. 

“He’s got every right to be mad at me.” 

“I’m sure he’s not mad at you-”

“He is though… I overheard him talking to Sophie about it. When they had milk and cookies without me.” 

“They did what?” 

“I’m not mad… Wooly clearly just needed some time to himself too… which is why I don’t get why he’s so bent out of shape about me wanting some.” 

“That’s Wooly for you.” Riley sighs, unsure what else to say. 

“And I’ve been so patient with him lately. I know he’s been going through a hard time with his memories and all that. I know he’s not okay but like… I’m not either… and sometimes that’s frustrating because… I want someone to lean on too… It's like he relies on me too much. Like I have to be the strong one all the time.” 

“Am-”

“It’s the worst because he’s the older one! I… I need someone to talk to too… that’s why I like it when you’re around… or when it’s just us… those couple tapes we had… just us… that was great. Not that I don’t like having Wooly around… but every once and a while… I’d like to spend some time without him, you know?” 

“That’s fair…” Riley says.

“Then why does he make me feel like the bad guy?” Amanda wonders. 

“I do not!” Wooly protests on the other side of the door. Amanda walks over to the door and opens it. Wooly falls over on his back. “Oh… whoops. Hi Amanda…” he chuckles nervously. 

“Wooly!” Riley gasps, “You’re still here?” Riley suddenly panics, noticing Amanda looking angry. Really angry. 

“ONE TAPE! ONE FLIPPING TAPE WOOLY! THAT’S ALL I ASKED OF YOU!” Amanda screams, “YOU ACT LIKE THIS EVERY SINGLE TIME! Whenever you want some time to yourself it’s fiiiiine, you can just sneak off without me- but for the love of apples when I wanna have some me-time it’s the end of the world!” Wooly just stands there, kind of stunned. He doesn’t look like he knows what to say, he just looks… kind of angry. 

“Let’s talk about boundaries!” Riley interjects trying to stop another potential feud between them. They are just like siblings I swear. Amanda catches on, she takes a deep breath. 

“It is very important to respect people’s boundaries!” Amanda instructs. “You see, boundaries are rules we set with our friends and family to let them know how we like to be treated!” Amanda starts poking Wooly’s arm. 

“Amanda… Amanda what are you- stop that!” Wooly snaps. Amanda stops poking him.

“See, Wooly told me to stop. He’s setting a boundary.” Amanda explains, “And now I am respecting that boundary. When our boundaries don’t get respected, it can make us very upset. It’s important to explain our boundaries so we don’t get in fights.” Amanda turns to Wooly. “Wooly, I asked you if I could have some alone-time with Riley today. I really wanted to just be left alone. I was setting my boundaries. When you kept coming in and interrupting us, it made me very mad. Can you not do that please?” 

“Ok-okay…” Wooly mumbles awkwardly, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry…”

“Why did you keep coming in, Wooly?” Riley asks. Wooly seems a bit embarrassed by this question. 

“I just felt… kind of left out and… I’m not really used to having time to myself… I just got… kind of bored… and restless…” 

“You could clean the house.” Amanda suggested. “Plenty of people clean when they’re bored.” 

“But… nothing’s messy.” 

“Then make things messy.” 

“That sounds… wrong.” 

“Look Wooly, I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is that I really want to be left alone right now. Could you please respect that?” Amanda pleads. Wooly nods and leaves the room sadly. Amanda closes the door behind him. 

“You know you could’ve just invited him to draw with us.” 

“No. I’m putting my foot down. I’m setting a boundary.” 

“Good for you Amanda.” Riley says in a congratulatory way. She smiles and returns to coloring in her picture. 

“I didn’t ask you many questions this episode huh?”

“That’s fine.” Riley shrugs. Amanda quietly sits there coloring and Riley resumes their coloring. It’s a peaceful quiet shared between two friends enjoying an activity together. Amanda seems to enjoy this quite a lot, as she is smiling the entire time. Eventually, both their pictures were done. 

“Well you already knew what I drew! It’s all of us! When we escape! Far away from anywhere where Hameln could ever hurt us…” 

“I guess we had the same idea…” Riley smirks, showing their picture close to the screen. “It’s me and Sophie giving you and Wooly a big hug when we get you out of there.” 

“Aww Riley…” Riley couldn’t see her face, but they could hear the happiness in her voice. “I like spending time with you… if… so… when you go promise me you’ll stay safe okay?”

“I promise.”

“Good… and if we can’t escape. Could you just… keep watching the tapes? Keep spending time with us forever… I know it’s a lot to ask.” Riley pulls the picture away and sees Amanda crying a bit. 

“Of course I will. I’d love to.”

“Let’s hang these up.” She smiles tearfully. Before they leave the room Amanda wipes her tears and shouts: “Wooly! I’m done drawing, do you wanna see?” 

“Uuuuh… I’m having a bubble bath right now, maybe later.” 

“You better not use all my bubble bath.” Amanda responds. An awkward silence is heard. 

“Um… enjoy your time with Riley Amanda… I uh… got an errand to run…” 

“One of these days I’m going to drown that sheep.” Amanda grumbles to Riley. The tape changes to the kitchen, where Amanda takes out the drawings from her sketchbook and hangs them up. There are more drawings than what she showed to Riley. There’s one of Amanda and Wooly holding hands in front of a big open door. She doesn’t explain that one. “Thanks for hanging out with me today Riley. Come back soon.” 

“I will.” Riley says. Amanda smiles at them and the tape ends, falling out of the VCR. The title has changed to “Let’s Talk About Boundaries.” Riley turns around and finds two pictures on the table. The one they drew… and Amanda’s picture that says: To Riley and Sophie. Love, Amanda. Under it is the next tape Stargazing. Riley heads upstairs and hangs the picture on Sophie’s fridge. 

“So… how did it go?” 

“We had to teach Wooly a lesson about boundaries before Amanda tried to kill him again.”

“Oh so you can be a responsible adult sometimes then.” 

“Shut up.” Riley laughs. 

“What cute pictures. Amanda drew this one?” 

“Yeah… I don’t know how she managed to give it to me though. I just turned around and it was there… She also changed the episode title.”

“Interesting… I’ll have to write that down in my notebook.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Riley? Do you have to go?” Sophie asks, hugging Riley from behind. 

“This lead… could change everything. It’s… remember when Amanda said that Kate almost found a way for them to leave?” 

“Didn’t we confirm that it won’t work?” 

“Yeah but it was close right? If we find out exactly what that is… we might be able to find a better solution ourselves…” 

“And what’s the end goal here?” 

“Get them out of there…”  

“And defeat Hameln?” 

“I’m going to be honest… I don’t think we can.” 

“Riley…” 

“I mean… Kate and her friend’s couldn’t beat them. Sam couldn’t. The police… the media… Sophie… this cult has existed since the middle ages… thousands of people probably tried to stop them… if they couldn’t… I doubt we could. I just want us to be safe.” 

“So… what’s the plan?”

“Get Amanda and Wooly out of the tapes… even if it means that the most we can do is just free their souls… and the souls of the other kids if we can. Best case scenario we find a way so that Hameln can never do this to anyone again… but defeat Hameln… no… I think it’s best to be as realistic about this as possible.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I think this is the best we can do…” Riley sighs, Sophie looks at them with worry. “We can stop if you want.” 

“What?!” 

“Do you want to give up?” Riley asks, “I don’t want to force you… force us… into danger if you don’t want it.” 

“Riley… but what about Amanda…?” Sophie questions. Riley looks at her sadly. 

“I… I don’t know… I don’t know what to do… I want to help her but…” they glance at Amanda’s picture and the tears start running down. “I don’t know if I can…” Sophie bites her lip. 

“Hey… it’s okay. We will find a way…” Sophie says softly, “And I’ll be right here with you… through it all…” she glances at the calendar. “Actually, why don’t you stay here? I have no work this weekend. You finish the tapes… I’ll go look into that lead for you.” 

“But Sophie-”

“These people all knew me through my mom… but Hameln doesn’t. I won’t be in any danger… and I won’t have to worry about you.”

“It’s just a day Sophie-” 

“Exactly… look at you… look how tired you are.” Sophie claps Riley’s face in her hands, “Let me be a part of this.”  

“Sophie…” 

“Besides… I’m waaaay better at research than you.” She grins, dangling her notebook in Riley’s face. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Promise. You get some rest… play with Amanda some more. She needs you.” 

“I need you.” Riley responds. Sophie just smiles and gives Riley a kiss on the forehead. 

“This too shall pass. Now let’s watch those secret tapes and see what we can find.” 

Authors Note: Riley is still the main character after all. Guess what? I made an apple pie today :3

Next Tape:

[inhervisionz]

good guy Fiddleford starts the wave of laughter

[nothingbizzare]

Just some kid and his hamsters

[sysig]

i want to go on a big and elaborate date with papyrus SPECIFICALLY bc of the way u draw him bc he’s so bbg cutie patootie

PapyrACE 💚💜 Happy Valentine's Day!

[grimbiliah]

I did all the little guys and me

[sallymew4]

i read chaps one and two of The Listless by @mtndw-whteout and absolutely HAD to draw out what has to be the funniest exchange so far

i hope to do more (legit) drawings of this au eventually !! :)

vv little extra sillies vv

[molagboop]

So I put the power of friendship and impractical outfits into Metroid Dread. No suits, no shields: we die in a giant laser hand cannon fight like true warriors.

[moe-broey]

I need like. A Don't Make Me Tap The Sign about Alfonse Fire Emblem specifically about his character and how he's perceived sometimes. Like Book 7 Chapter 12 he's just like that. He's always been like that.

I feel like I've def said it more eloquently before probably in Book 5 (regarding Reginn and Fáfnir), where like. He Will try for and favor a peaceful solution, but if it's clear there's no way out without violence and killing the threat/adversary. He won't hesitate. He won't falter. Crit line literally references this actually, "Above all, the mission".

Like I feel like the difference between Alfonse just doing Alfonse things (most recent chapter Seidr having to kill Kvasir, no way out of it -- plus also even considering killing Seidr herself, if that were to end Gullveig) and the Letizia moment was like. The Letizia moment was a BOLD gambit he played, which is WHY it was so shocking in the story and as an audience member, and why I think it left such a deep impression. Still very in character for him and the way he thinks/problem solves on the fly, carefully evaluating the situation and what would be the best move with the highest rate of success. (THAT LAST BIT ACTUALLY........ he'll do this even with low rates of success, out of sheer stubbornness as well. Which is why I still stand by him being rash at times, a LOT of his rashness is disguised as "calculated risks" and he just has the willpower to pull it off. The worst-best type of guy to me LMFAO)

Going back a bit though, the Letizia moment also stands out as an example of how far Alfonse is willing to go to win, especially if his back is pushed against the wall. It gives you a FASCINATING glimpse into his character and into his mind. A lot of times Lif would be an enigma to me, beyond the basics, character wise. Like yeah I guess that would fuck up a guy. But his methods (working and making contracts with gods when especially as Alfonse he knows better than that??) would be inscrutable to me. But everything absolutely finally clicked when Alfonse made that gambit, playing to Letizia's personality and whatever preconceived notions she may have, that maybe Alfonse could find a weak spot in and take advantage of. Lif is doing the exact same thing. His judgement is maybe a little worse for wear on account of, well *gestures vaguely to all of him* but he's still very much doing The Same Thing.

LIKE. I'm def straying from my point which is. Alfonse isn't shy about having to resort to violence. It Is a resort. But if it has to be done, it will be done. Any damage control (such as Sharena's feelings -- she has CLEARLY been extremely upset these past chapters) can be resolved later. (This.... is also fascinating to me..... bc it's always been clear to me his loved ones are the people who ground him, who stop him from losing himself, from becoming cruel in his practicality and tendency for detachment. There Is his morality as well -- but his loved ones are a huge part in what keeps him kind.)

I guess what I'm really trying to say is. Hit me up next time Alfonse is playing 4D chess with the enemy or throwing himself in a ditch on purpose just to indulge his baby sister's current pet project. THOSE feel like standout examples of Alfonse Off The Shits (but still completely in character for him tbh), while like. The rest is just par for the course for him. Just another (especially traumatizing) Tuesday.

[cj-the-random-artist]

Is this my best comic ever?? Nope. Do I think I characterized either of these two particularly well in this comic?? Not really. Did I spend an unreasonable amount of time on it to the point that it would be a waste to not post it?? Yes, yes I did.

I really committed to this one, spent a lot of time on those backgrounds and treated myself to ample suffering with the perspective, which is not my strong suit but I am happy with how it ultimately looks. Yay perspective and background practice!!

(Tbh I shouldn't talk like I think this one sucks, I think I've just been staring at it for so long that my brain has decided it's not good and it's actually way better than I think it is, and honestly I am quite happy with it. The artistic process really is something, isn't it?)

The inspiration was basically me reminding... myself... to take breaks sometimes... by drawing for several hour stints during my only little bits of free time. Which totally tracks. Probably. But I've been rolling around in my brain this idea that Lambert is a very uptight people pleaser and anxious workaholic, but Narinder, at least since adjusting himself to the circumstances (which probably took at least a century, maybe two) has discovered the joys of self care, and has made an active effort to chill tf out. This has not made him any less terrifying to the cultists (save for Lambert's closest disciples), nor has it made him friendlier to really anyone but Lambert (and maybe his siblings), but he sure has found some serious peace of mind. That said, I can't place what his motivations are here. Perhaps he is secretly concerned about Lambert's sanity, because he doesn't want them to turn into what he was, or maybe he's just trying to steal away some quality time with his one and only friend, but regardless of the reason, I spent too much time on this for nobody to see it, dang it.

That said. Enjoy this silly little comic that I spent way too much time on, and I hope this silly comic brings you some joy today.

[greenlaut]

the four hunters 🗡🌿

extras + rambles below cut

yipeee i finally finished this illustration 🎉🎉

this is my personal take on the hunters gang (we will ignore that boromir died). honestly, i had a lot of fun thinking of the designs.

had to bring back my aragorn with his silly braid and blue hair ribbon. he's a ranger for most of his life, so he'd definitely go for practicality and what he's already familiar with—so no armour nor gambeson. he probably had a small fight with elrond before they left for the quest; where elrond tried to make him swap his gear for better, newer ones and aragorn just adamantly refusing because he's a lot more familiar (and more comfortable) with his own. which is why he's wearing tattered and worn rags. his red tunic is the only new thing he allowed elrond to swap to a new one. boromir definitely got exhasperated and somewhere down the line, he loaned aragorn his pair of arm bracers.

boromir (and faramir's (not featured here)) design changed a lot since the past years. it's a mash-up of both movie!boromir and lore accurate book!boromir. his hair is a lot darker and he has more of a storm blue-grey eyes as a nod towards his elendil ancestry. his clothing is heavily based off the movie. as for his cloak; since he's The son of gondor and denethor's favourite, i think he'd definitely get the fortune of wearing a fur cloak. the clasp has the white tree engraved on it.

gimli is by far my favourite. i always wanted to draw my take of gimli in his regalia. as a dwarven royalty, i think he'd groom his hair and beard really well, and he would've put on a lot of accessories to show his status. but since he's on a quest, he's not fully decked out in jewelries—wearing very practical clothing: gambeson with chainmail underneath. also, i like the dwarven fighting style they did in the hobbit movie where they go around and knock people off with melee. so gimli got hefty arm bracers and knuckle weights to really punch the shit out of some orcs.

for legolas; i think despite being an elf, he has the factors of being (1) mirkwood elf and (2) lowkey autistic coded. so he doesn't dress "like an elf"—not that the company would've known, with how limited their interactions with elves in general already. this meant that he dressed too casually despite going on a life-or-death quest. very light leather armour to support his speed and agility. he's not even wearing boots; just a pair of tree-climbing canvas shoes that he wrapped tightly. god knows how he survived this far. he's mostly a right handed archer—but since he lived for quite a long while, he taught himself to shoot with left hand too for emergencies. since his left hand isn't as stable as his right hand, he has a left-shoulder-pad.

THEY ALL HAVE SCARS because who doesn't get scars when you're literal warriors be fr. legolas' are more faded out though, because he's old as fuck.

close-ups:

fin.

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[carlsangel]

KEEP TALKING PLEASE?

carl grimes x fem!reader

(carl is a chest guy.)

tags: smut, BOOBS!!! and all that jazz

masterlist here!

Carl loves your body, there’s no denying that. Whether you liked it or hated it, he would always love and adore it. He absolutely loved worshipping your body while you two were alone in your room. Usually when you’re out with others he does it quietly. He’ll run his hand up and down your thigh if you’re sitting or he’ll just stare at you for minutes until you notice.

One part of you he adore the most are your boobs. As silly as it sounds, consider him obsessed. The first time he saw them was way into your relationship, a point in time where you were sharing a room but you would change in front of him. He was always so curious and couldn’t help but ask so one time you let him see. He practically froze while he was sat on the bed.

You went to put a shirt on but he immediately protested. “Wait- just hold on.” He shyly waves you over to sit beside him. He’d admire you for a moment before looking up at you, putting his hands out towards your breast, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. When you smile and give him a small nod, he gently cups them, grazing his thumb over your nipple. You breathe in a sharp breath and he looks up at you slightly alarmed before realizing it felt good for you.

From there, he’d just massage you while you made out. Slow, gentle kisses while he played with your chest. It was probably his favorite moment of his life by far.

It reached another level when he started to use his mouth. At first it was something he’d done when you guys were intimate, but then it became something for comfort. Anything with your boobs really. It was comforting for him and he wasn’t sure why, maybe it was how warm you were or how soft your skin was.

You could be laying down on your bed, cuddling with him while talking. He’d grow to get a bit sleepier and quieter so he lifts your shirt a bit in his hands and looks to see if you’d let him like usual. “Yeah go ahead baby.” He loved how gentle you’d be with him while he was sleepy. It was just everything he needed. He’d lift your shirt up enough to reveal your bra and he’d pout at the barrier between him and what he really wanted.

You were wearing a sports bra so he just slid the fabric up to see your chest. He smiled immediately and before you knew it, his mouth was latched onto your tit. He’d shut his eyes as he sucked gently, drawing small moans from you. He didn’t mean for it to be sexual, it was just something he found comfort in. He pulls back a moment to look up at you. “Keep talking…please?” Once again his tone was sweet and light.

You’d just talk and talk about your day while he sucked at your nipple. He’d make small noises against you, which would die down as he fell asleep.

Other occasions he’d just enjoy holding them. Kind of how women find holding their own boobs comfortable, he’s the same except they don’t belong to him. Sometimes you’d watch movies in the living room on the couch while Rick and Michonne are chatting in the kitchen behind you both. All he wanted to do the entire time was to put his hand under your shirt and hold your tit because it was warm and comfy but they wouldn’t leave and he got so frustrated.

Anytime they spoke to him he’d be sort of irritated until they left.

I think it’s safe to say that Carl is a boob guy.

a/n: sorry this is so short but i really like it!!! i actually got two requests for this so i hope it meets the expectations LOL okay that’s it bye love you!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[livecrow]

You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.

Dark!Ghost x fat fem reader drabble

CWs: dead dove, rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism

(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)

_____________________________________________________________

It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.

In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more? 

No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people  “jus’ need killin’”. 

As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality. 

No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.

Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.

You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it. 

Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.

The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.

Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.

Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.

On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.

He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.

You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.

“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he? 

He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.

Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn. 

He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing. 

As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.

Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.

Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.

It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged. 

His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.

The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.

He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.

He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".

You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.

You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”. 

The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.

He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.

On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like. 

You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.

Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.

”...you'll taste better.”

He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes. 

“Chew.”

It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.

“Swallow.”

His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then. 

With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.

Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.

The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.

Then it’s on your tongue.

He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue 

“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.

Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.

The sounds you make when gagged are special little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.

Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.

If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation. After all, he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking. Dopamine to counteract the stress.

Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and unfortunately he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.

He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, arms, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any squishy bit of you. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a little. 

His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze. 

He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the shop's many meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.

He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.

He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hand are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.

It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.

Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.

That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.

Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.

He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker. 

From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.

He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, clean and sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it. 

It’s been months now you’ve been with him and the day never comes. 

...

You didn't dare question it.

But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.

[clawsdevour]

js wanna be yours

wc: 0.8k content warning: ur his first ever crush and he's confessing to you, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread

note: this is kind of like a follow up from his first crush because an anon requested to see how atsumu would confess! (also he is SO the type of guy that's chalant but goes lowk silent around you)

⠀𓈒 ◌⠀ֹ ͏⠀ 𓍼

A letter? That's odd. I rarely get letters left in my locker, you thought to yourself. Staring at the plain blank envelope, looking for hints or clues indicating who slipped it in the little slot. Absolutely nothing, not even a small pencil mark.

Carefully ripping the glued seal, you take out the small folded sheet of paper. Just like the plain envelope, there wasn't even any decorations or drawings left on the blank piece of paper.

Unfolding it, there only laid a few words to be read:

'Please come to the back of the school, near the lockers, at four pm. I need to tell you something important.'

You can't tell if this was some sort of silly prank being pulled on you. It was way too early for a prank, all you just wanted was to put on your indoor shoes. In your mind, you're contemplating about this letter that wasn't even signed.

Should I show up? I don't even know who this person could be.. this could just be a prank someone pulled on me!

Sighing, you close your locker and slip the note into your bag before heading to your first period. The letter could come second, overall school just began.

The day flew by without a worry, making you almost forget about that mysterious letter left in your locker. Looking back at the clock, it was three forty-seven.

Still, you couldn't quite wrap your head around this sudden opportunity to see who was behind the note left in your locker. You were more than just curious to know what their motives and intentions were as well.

Hearing the clock strike, you made up your mind. I'm going to see who this person is.

Heading out of your classroom that was filled with chatter, entering the quiet halls whilst you make your way down to the back of Inarizaki. You were on the lookout to see if any of the familiar faces lurking around could be that person.

Making it outside, the humidity in the air hits you while you fight past it. Near the lockers, you saw a tall figure disappear around the corner.

That was a bit odd. That guy's going the same way as me.. is that the guy behind the letter?

A bit concerned, heart starting to pick up the pace with every footstep that inched towards the back of the locker rooms. You're walking ever so slowly, trying to not make noise.

A tall and lean silhouette makes it's way into your vision. The man's wearing Inarizaki's volleyball uniform, perhaps they just left practice. He isn't facing you, but you had an idea of who he may be with that blond hair. It was no one else but someone you've just gotten closer with over the past few weeks.

"Atsumu, is that you?" breaking the suspenseful tension that rose in the air. His back turns away from you, chocolate eyes wide open with brows raised. Atsumu's face was slightly still flushed from volleyball practice and his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Hey! Um look.." his shyness taking over when you walked up to him. A hair scratching his nape.

"You wrote that letter in my locker right..?" The awkwardness starting to build up like the first time you both met.

"Yes, I just really have to say these words to you. It's like nippin' at me like crazy" his big eyes are nervously flicking back between his trembling hands and your face.

You've never seen your best friend act this way before. Something must be really aching at him if he's being like this. He's biting down on his bottom lip before parting them again.

"I really.. just, like ya" his husky voice getting lower, hoping you heard him through his slight mumbling.

Atumu's more than flushed. He was practically burning a hit red. His heart is thumping more than a hundred miles per hour. He can't believe he just confessed.

On your end, your face is frozen in mid-gasp. This was more than just a surprise since you've always had this nagging feeling that drew you towards him. You finally understand why, not just as bestfriends, but because you also liked him.

"Atsumu.." tilting your head up just right below his tall stature. You're automatically smiling from his words. The contentness you're feeling is unmatched by his, you can't even wipe off the grin from your face.

"..I just wanna be yours-" he's feeling a warm hand reach to caressing the side of his face. A wave of euphoria washing over him when your lips make contact with his.

His eyes are bigger than the volleyballs that he sets on court. He can't believe his confession went so well. He's gonna for sure brag about this to Osamu later.

Unlatching your lips to respond to him, a wide beam of joy radiating from your smile. Looking at his red complexation, his mouth parted, looking absolutely dumbfounded and awestruck.

"Duh, you've always been!"

masterlist here

[citruslullabies]

OMG. I SAW UR CURLY HEADCANONS AND I TOUGHT THEY WERE AMAZING!! COULD U MAYBE DO THE SAME THING BUT WITH DAISUKE?? :O

Coming right up hon!

Daisuke Mouthwashing headcannons

Romantic

Pre-crash Daisuke:

He's a silly guy

Constantly cracking jokes, trying to make you laugh

People wouldn't know if you two were dating or just best friends if it weren't for the fact he's a puppy dog with you

Following you around whenever he can, looking at you for praise whenever he can

It's kind of like the meme "no, I'm not calling you good boy. That mission was shit."

..other than he is a good boy so call him such

And boy does he love PDA

Well, not really

He just loves affection, public or private

I like to think he's just a bit more silly in public

Kisses your cheek and makes an over exaggerated pop whenever he pulls away

Daisuke was hanging out with Swansea, goofing off as usual. But he saw you in the corner of his eye and without a second thought, ran to you and practically pounced. Before you could get anything but a giggle in, he pressed his lips to your cheek and kissed you with a loud pop!

He's not really a petname sort of person either

It's mostly funny nicknames for him

He will call you his grumpasaur when you're grumpy first thing in the morning. I don't make the rules.

Post-crash Daisuke:

For awhile, he still acts the same. But his personality is a little watered down, y'know?

He's stressed and scared after what happened

But he tries not to let that get him down!

Although he is more clingy, more scared of letting go of you. One accident already happened and almost wiped their captain out, what if you were next?

He didn't want to think about that

It made him nauseated to think about

And eventually well.. he crawled through that vent to get to Anya

And he got severely injured. You couldn't bear to see him like that

You most likely died soon before, trying to keep Swansea from killing Daisuke

Begging and pleading that there had to be some other way

But it didn't work out in anyone's favor

Platonic

Pre-crash Daisuke:

You guys are super duper close!!

Lots of jokes and pranks on the other crew members

Constantly goofing off whenever you can

Not too affectionate.. the occasional hug here and there. But besides that it's all fun and games

He has definitely drawn on your face before while you slept

I'm sorry. I don't make the rules. He would definitely make an attempt at drawing a flower on your cheek and it look like a penis

He'd still giggle about it though.. maybe it wasn't an accident

He has definitely (jokingly and lovingly) made fun of Swansea

Just standing up and trying to mimic his mannerisms while you're laughing

..yeah, too bad Swansea was in at that very moment

"look at me, I'm Swansea! I'm a big smelly engineer!" Daisuke said in a forcefully deeper voice, making you laugh as he held his arms out in front of him as if to mimic toting a stomach around. Swansea in question could only look unamused as he cleared his throat, making you both stop in your tracks. Oh if looks could kill.

But yeah you guys have a purely goofy relationship

Post-crash Daisuke:

It's the exact same as the romantic, but the difference is, he tries to convince you to go into the vent with him. He wants to get Anya and doesn't want to be alone

But you of course refused, stating it wasn't safe but did he listen?

No

In fact he continued on to the vent and got himself injured

You gave him the 'i told you so' look but.. you felt really bad when looking at your friend. He was in bad shape.

And so you died a similar way

The only big difference is, you died after discovering him

Thanks for requesting!