#this was inspired by a toy seal i found at work

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

My version of Selkie Dreamy!!

Due to Dreamy's long-term exposure to Smurf magic, instead of being a full-sized seal, he is no bigger than a pup (perhaps smaller!). I love drawing Dreamy Seal so much.

@butterfrogmantis did a beautiful job with him, I'm sorry it took so long for me to draw and post mine 😅

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[empressofthewind]

Top 10 Animal Comparisons for Near

inspired by this iconic post by @13eyond13 :-)

10. Gecko

geckos made it onto the list because of their round black eyes and solitary nature. i also found it interesting that the oldest known gecko lived to 27, which is the same age we see Near in his last canon appearance.

9. Hedgehog

wary of people and not easily trusting. generally solitary, although capable of forming few attachments, and most content in familiar, comfortable environments. both show tendencies to curl in upon themselves.

8. Squirrel

curious and intelligent with impressive memories and problem-solving skills. also seen to be quite cunning and have a variety of tricks and schemes to deceive potential predators or food thieves. they would have been higher on the list if not for the fact that they are known to be very active and social.

7. Raccoon

not as strong a comparison for Near as they are for L, but they are known to be highly intelligent, cheeky and mischievous, much like Near. the comparisons are similar to those of squirrels, but ranked slightly higher due to their more solitary nature.

6. Rabbit

intelligent and inquisitive but can easily become bored. the appearance is the main feature that made me rank them so high, with reference to the round black eyes, small build and (for some breeds) white aesthetic. they also typically spend their entire lives in the same place and do not move far from their warren, which reflects Near's preference for staying indoors in one place where possible. rabbits probably could not catch a plane by themselves.

5. Seal

much like the gecko, seals came to mind because of their big black eyes and solitary lifestyles. they move in packs for safety but are not typically close with other individual seals, which mirrors Near's preference for working in a team despite having no close personal relationships outside of that. however, seals are much higher on the list because of their tendency to lounge around on rocks or play alone when they aren't hunting, which reminds me a lot of Near. they are also known to be intelligent and cautious.

4. Arctic Fox

quite small and unassuming but sneaky, clever and adaptable. arctic foxes are not as strong or aggressive as other breeds but are very cunning, and sometimes follow larger animals like polar bears while hunting for protection and to find prey. in terms of aesthetic, the arctic fox specifically reminds me a lot of A-Kira Near with its white fur/dark eyes combo, long body and graceful aura. foxes are also commonly associated with the zodiac Virgo, which is Near's star sign.

3. Sheep

a very common comparison for Near based on appearance. both are calm and level-headed with a high level of intelligence, and very strong memory and recognition skills. despite being known for their placid nature, sheep can have a wide range of emotions, much like Near.

2. Cat

rolls around on the floor, plays with toys and is often destructive while playing. looks innocent but is actually a little bastard. my specific choice for him is a ragdoll cat because of their placid temperament, mostly white colour palette and preference for the indoors (and also because i am a ragdoll owner myself, so i am very biased <3)

1. Frog

self-explanatory i suspect. he may not share the most personality traits with frogs, but their overall vibe is too similar to rank any lower than first.

bonus comparison, in case you aren't convinced:

[haveyouanytime]

each miller brother takes their days off differently

inspired by it pouring rain where i live (＃￣0￣) | tommy x reader & joel x reader, NOT tommy x reader x joel

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

Waking up with Tommy in your shared bed, listening to the sound of the rain pattering against your window, you can’t help but feel tranquil and lazy. As much as you loved having the day off at the same time as your husband, you feel a bit peeved that it was only due to the pouring rain making the roads close off. You feel his body atop yours as he sleeps like a seal on a rock (you being the rock, unfortunately), his soft snores sending a deep rumble to your chest. 

You let him sleep for a bit longer, slowly running your hand through his dark curls you love dearly. It’s after a few minutes that you decide to get up that Tommy stirs, his hold tightening on your torso. 

“Nope. Mm-mm.” He grumbles into your sleep shirt, pinning you to the bed with his body weight. You sigh, thinking to yourself that his actions would be cuter if your bladder wasn’t about to explode. 

“Tommy, I gotta pee.” You softly push at his shoulder, still weak with leftover sleepiness running through your body. 

“Too bad.” He mumbles into your chest. He sighs, as content as possible in his half-asleep state. “Five more minutes.” 

And although you do eventually make it out of the bed-- it seems like you can’t escape Tommy’s arms all day. As you cook a lazy brunch, his chest is pressed to your back. As you eat, he pulls you onto his lap. As he washes the plates, he demands you stay beside him to hold him just as he did to you. Afterward, he drags you towards the couch, but you escape his grip as he lands on the plush cushions. You run a hand through your hair, taking a step away from the couch to try and distance yourself from his iron hold. “Tommy, I gotta do laundry.” 

“No need for laundry. C’mere.” He demands with a huff, sticking his arms out for you to join him. You can’t help but smile, thinking of how he looks like a child asking for a toy. 

“Tommy, we need to do laundry.” You sigh with a smile, taking a step closer to him to rake your hand through his dark curls. “All your work clothes are dirty, right? Can’t have you going to frame in sweatpants and a band-tee.” 

“You can’t do laundry, ‘cause it’s raining.” He grins, looking up at you and resting his hands on your hips. You let out an airy laugh, and you want to try and protest that the laundry can be done because you have a washer and dryer and not a clothesline like a pilgrim, but his hands move up to your waist and pull you down onto the couch with him. 

And as you lie on the couch with him, looking up at his peaceful face as he naps, you figure the laundry can be done tomorrow. 

With Joel? You wake up the same as always, with him already up. As you saunter down the stairs to the kitchen, he’s already making breakfast for three-- despite Sarah still being asleep upstairs due to the school sending out the announcement the night before of a canceled day due to the pouring rain. But there he was, cooking like he was about to get in his truck with Tommy and Sarah like any other morning. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns into a handyman rather than a carpenter for the day. Anything that creaked moved quieter than a mouse, anything that leaked seemed magically brand new. The lights seem brighter in the doorway, kitchen, and bathroom, at one point, you find the front door open and you peek outside to see Joel battle the whipping wind atop a stepstool as he replaces the lightbulb on the porch. 

Once everything possible seemed done and it was only the early afternoon, you found him standing with his hands on his hips, just staring out the window. You and Sarah watch from the doorway, matching furrowed eyebrows as he just… stares. 

“Maybe we should ask him to do something,” Sarah whispers to you, “Maybe he’s secretly worked like a Sim this whole time. He can only function when given tasks.” 

“Have him do what? I think he’s already done everything possible.” You whisper back, your head tilting curiously as your husband seems frozen in time. 

“I dunno. Anything.” She speaks lowly, her honey-colored eyes widening as you both just watch Joel. 

“Maybe he’s like a T-Rex,” Sarah whispers, watching as her father stands like a statue, his gaze transfixed on the pouring rain. “If we don’t move, he can’t see us.” 

“You know I can hear you, right?” Joel raises his brow, turning to face you two. Sarah all but disappears, her sock-clad feet pattering up the stairs and abandoning you to deal with Joel. 

“Let’s take a break, honey.” You smile, walking forward and gently grabbing his forearm. You lead him to the living room, trapping him to the couch with your legs thrown over his. Much to his chagrin, you turn on a rom-com which pulls Sarah out of her room to effectively trap Joel by sitting on his other side. He grunts that he’s not watching a chick flick, but a solid 20 minutes into the movie, he’s hooked.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Regress, Reblog, Regret, Reward.

Read On AO3

Gavin Reed runs a blog for his mental health, specifically his age regression. A certain RK900 finds it.

1/?

3k words

Read Tags on AO3

Gavin never wanted a caregiver of any sort, the most self sufficient he’d ever felt was when he was regressing. The lack of worries over work, not having to share a space… He happily, and easily, took care of himself. He found it to be his main coping strategy once he learned everything that could be learned about it, influence from an old therapist sealed the deal. One coping mechanism he found that worked consistently. 

As common as ‘tantrums’ were with him, they successfully got out all the negatives and left him feeling better. Crying, kicking, shouting.. It worked and it didn’t hurt the ones he was close to, or used to be close to. He had his moments still, of course. But his coworkers didn’t get the brute of it. The less disciplinary files he had the better. It all worked in his favor.

Over the years, he had started a blog on a site he had already regularly used. Something centered around his regression specifically. Not knowing anyone who coped in the same way, he was determined to find others and settle into a nice community. It took more time than he’d like to admit to block as many NSFW tags and accounts as he could, and blocking more as they popped up. He was cautious. More times than not, he’d scroll his phone on the age regression tags while he was regressing. Just to get that feeling of togetherness in the times he was completely alone, which was a lot of the time. He knew he shouldn’t, really, because of his fragile state of mind and the possibility of coming across triggering content. But aside from shows, toys, and a few games, he didn’t have much.

He was fine being alone, though, even if it picked at him sometimes. That bit of loneliness could sting like a motherfucker on hard nights. Nights were he would debate between a pacifier, a calm show, and smoking some weed for a break from the weight he carried on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d do all three to alleviate the stress for even a few minutes. The weed helped loosen him up most times, but if he had more than his usual, he’d get paranoid. Checking windows, seeing things from the corner of his eyes. Usually he would catch on before it got bad, other times he would sit in an anxious haze, then go get his pacifier and lay in a lit room with his stuffed animal that he had deemed his protector. A teddy with a gold crown, a shield and a sword. Something an old friend got him from build-a-bear. Someone he had trusted deeply, then broke that trust. Even still, he loved that plush. 

The blogged helped that sort of loneliness. With the asks he received, the replies and other interactions let him breathe in a sense of belonging that he thought he had lost many years ago. He grew close with a few of the people on there, the ones he interacted with most. They had a small group of mutuals. As he had learned more, he was very happily accepted into being a little sort of sibling group with them. It was as close as he’d gotten to a family again in a long while. And as he grew a bit more popular, he got comfortable messaging with people he didn’t quite know. But he never messaged or posted while regressed, a rule that was mostly to protect himself.

Those sessions of interacting with followers became more often the more relaxed he got on the site. He, of course, refused to show his face or name whatsoever. He posted under the name ‘little-forest-cub’, with nothing to allude to his job, name or location. But it was inspired by one of his favorite nicknames when small. He’s just a little bear, a small cub. Sometimes people questioned if he was a pet regressor as well with all the bear themed things, and would usually respond with a simple ‘i don’t know’ when he knew he probably did. 

Never once did he tell anyone about any of this at work, the only person that hardly knew barely showed up anymore, even with the addition of the plastic prick- Connor, though he had noticed the difference he had made. It was important that they didn’t know. He was always thankful that the account was under a different email than the ones he would use for work or casual, normal day-to-day things. He had done everything in his power to keep everything separate. 

Never once did he mention it or bring it up at work, nor did he check his account there either.

But one morning, an day he had off work more specifically, he checked his inbox to find a follow notification that made his stomach drop. A new message alongside that. 

The face of his new-ish partner at work. An even worse version of Connor that really got him stirring. He almost made it impossible for him to keep working on his problems of anger issues and still feeling that ‘anti-android’ sentiments. Gavin still swore up and down that the detective models were going to take his job. Out-preform him and render him useless. And as much as RK800 told him, and the other coworkers that the RK900 came to work there already deviant, Gavin still didn’t want to believe that they had feelings and felt them on the same, if not higher, levels. It took a lot of time to get him to warm up to him, but at the very least, he called the android his name and the proper chosen pronouns. 

The newer model was donned himself ‘Nines’, which Gavin had called stupid in a childish fit of annoyance. In no world was it necessary for him to hate the android as much as he did. That hatred faded ever so slightly over time as they were forced to work together. He argued every step of the way, until it hit about the third week. He had gotten injured and the RK900 helped him all the way to safety and waited with him for an ambulance. In that time, he realized that maybe Nines didn’t want to replace him. Because in his mind, he would have let him bleed out if he wanted him gone. But he didn’t do that. Then he realized that he must be doing a little better with his therapies if he isn’t jumping to the worst conclusion ever. 

Nines didn’t seem as bad from that point, he even let the android fight back with him instead of storming out whenever something went wrong or he got pissed off. Sure, the comments could be horrible, but he would feel himself smirk a little when he got a response. A reaction of any kind rather than some dull, stupid look like he usually did after he got pissed. The android stopped feeling like such a threat, with lingering suspicion still, but the subtle shift in Nines’ steel gray eyes to something that felt more human let him put his guard down just a little.

But the follower notice and the message brought a sick feeling back to his mouth. The trust gained immediately felt like it went down the drain. That stupid robot face felt like it was mocking him as he stared at it. How did he find it? Of course the fucking android would, right? The bastard saw everything, he could even see his heart rate, caffeine consumption levels, or stress levels, just by looking at him. Oh how Gavin hated it. 

Of course this is how his off day goes. The one day this week that he was even able to take off, Fowler constantly bitched about how he was on the clock overtime and the higher ups didn’t want to pay him for that, but wouldn’t give him a solid day off. And now he needed to go in to find Nines and throttle him- 

No. He’s supposed to be working on that. He’s supposed to be trying to be civil. It was only just getting better and the android just had to go and fuck it up. If he had just kept to himself.

Gavin’s teeth clenched harder and harder as he hesitated to open the message, until a sharp pain shocked him into releasing that tension. That plastic prick. He wanted to get rid of the evidence, maybe just delete the whole account. If Nines had no proof, he could deny it, right? Wrong. He hated that stupid detective programming in Nines’ hardware, he could tell if Gavin was lying. 

He forced his hand to the screen, pressing the notification and daring to skim the message. Not a word got rid of the sick taste in his mouth. It felt uniquely Nines, dull, characterless, and straight to the damn point.

It read:

“Good morning, I came across your account and I wanted to talk to you about this today. Can we meet at the station at 3pm today?”

Clearly not a care in the damn world from the android, and not a doubt it was Gavin either. As a detective, he should have known that he should have made the account as untraceable as possible, but he didn’t. Something he was deeply regretting now. Bile rose in his throat as he began to think. His one safe space could be so easily ripped away from him. And it was being taken, pried from his hands.

He desperately wanted to just ignore the message, let it rot in his inbox and try to forget. It wasn’t a feasible choice when Nines would undoubtedly stare him down every day until they spoke. So, on his day off, he pulled himself out of bed and went for a cold shower first thing. He waited to reply, just to be the most inconvenient as he possibly could be. 

And when he did reply, he simply sent a thumbs up emoji and blocked the account Nines had used. For now, he couldn’t let the android stay on his page where he wasn’t welcomed. 

Minutes were spent pacing. The last time anyone knew, they abused Gavin’s blind trust. They made his regression impure for months at a time before he seeked help from his therapist, then his community. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Nines had known, how much he had seen. It only made sense he would have looked as far back as he could, he was programmed to learn. That didn’t just disappear when he deviated. 

His comfort jacket was left at home without a second thought, all of his comforting things were left behind. He couldn’t bring it along. He especially couldn’t bring his bag, more of a satchel kind of thing. It held everything he could possibly need. It had what he called his ‘panic paci’, a small sensory square what made crinkle sounds and was nice to touch, a small pack of tissues, and a thin, childish water bottle. A bag with things he kept for ‘just in case’ scenarios. But he had to risk not bringing it to be at least able to get Nines off his back.

He could almost hear the android’s reasons for concern now as he walked out of his apartment. It all made his stomach twist in knots with all the possibilities. Maybe he didn’t look it, but he felt pale. Clammy hands, racing heart, cold sweat, skin cold to the touch. It was almost nauseating how this got under his skin. His stupid coworker with his ridiculously smart fake brain he could so easily blow out. There would be no replacement with Cyblerlife mostly down and not making new androids. And as much as he hated his blue guts, he shook off those thoughts. If he even tried to speak like that with his therapist, they would ask things that always felt dumb to Gavin, ‘think about where he’s coming from’ or ‘listen before you decide how you feel’. Oh how it pissed him off even more, but.. His progress. He found it mattering more in his decision making because his therapist made gave him a reward system. Something a parent or a teacher would give a troublesome child. It bothered him just as it much as it helped, really.

The drive up to the station wasn’t much easier. The automatic taxi he took only forced him to think more about the android he had to talk to. Had to. It would risk his job if he didn’t. As he thought, he repeated that in his head. It would risk his job if he didn’t talk to Nines. That bastard would try to get him under investigation if he didn’t meet with him, Gavin was sure. He would try to replace him, just as he thought. 

He was hot headed as he pulled up, a strong dizziness to match. No food, no coffee, nothing to prepare himself even after being awake so long. His eye bags were heavy, eyes sore. The more he forced himself, the more strain he put on his brain. Of course a headache was brewing the moment he stepped inside and that cold office air was directly on his cold face. 

“Detective Reed.” The RK900 greeted him at their desks as if this was just another day, as if Gavin didn’t look like hell reincarnated. Steely cold eyes followed his every movement and no fear in them when Gavin dared to step up to him.

He wanted nothing more than to pull him into a nasty brawl, a bar fight times ten. 

“You fucking bastard.” Gavin decided to start with. He didn’t bother with greetings, nor did he especially care about if the android was being helpful. The words his therapist would say lingered, but he didn’t want to listen when the plastic prick was right in front of him. 

“Detective, be civil. We just need to talk.” Nines spoke, just as calm and calculated as always. Cold, too. 

“Don’t give me bullshit, you know what you’re doing.” He lowered his voice, hands going to shove the android back by his shoulders against the glass divider that separated the hall and the bullpen. Gavin held a permanent scowl on his face. 

The android hardly reacted while keeping a stare down at the detective. “Gavin, I’m not doing anything. I wanted to discuss your safety, and perhaps some of your history.” 

His safety? His history? Oh hell no. 

“You’re gonna fucking replace me, that it? You want me to spill shit, try and get me feeling soft so you get get me out.” Gavin pressed Nines back, keeping him against the glass with pure anger in his eyes. How could he not be pissed? He snapped with easy conviction. 

“Detective, with your behavior, maybe you need it.” 

Oh he was going to get it. 

Right in the bullpen, Gavin pressed his forearm against the android’s throat and pinned him back against that glass divider. It would be easy for Nines to overpower him. This was a power trip, in a way. A reaction to a trigger. Even though he could fight back this time, he let Gavin have his time.

“I don’t need shit. I have what I need, and you fucking invaded that space. Shut up!” Gavin growled at him, brows pulled into a scrunch that burned at the surrounding skin. 

He let Gavin have his outburst.

Profanities and threats were scowled at him until Gavin couldn’t hold him up there anymore. When he did let go, he pushed his head back against the glass too. Not enough to break anything, not even skin, but to get his point across.

He patiently waited. And waited.

When Gavin was out of breath and finally sitting, Nines looked down at him with some horrible mix of concern and annoyance.

“That’s enough of that tantrum, detective.” He spoke, and that anger flared up again. Gavin’s fists bunched up in his lap. It was a play, he was sure. But then a hand was rested on his shoulder.

“I’m not reporting you, nor am I replacing you.” 

Gavin wanted to call bullshit. Why else would the android have even bothered to find his safe space, and intrude in it, then ask to talk at their workplace of all spaces? His mouth opened to speak.

“Ah.” Nines tsked. “I wanted to talk to you, both because I found the blog and I wanted to know if that was contributing to your new.. behavior.” 

Behavior?! 

This prick talking to him like he was a child was more enraging than anything else. His behavior… BS. He hadn’t changed outside of a bit of a lighter perspective.

“You don’t get to comment on anything, asshole. You’re the motherfucker getting in my shit then fucking me over.” Gavin sat up straighter into Nines’ space. He remained deflective, accusatory. He needed to. 

“Well, I’m commenting anyway. You’re more lax, you have gotten more sleep, you have consumed much less caffeine, you aren’t snapping as much. Your last unprovoked fight was weeks ago.” It felt like utter lies to hear. He didn’t change that much, did he? 

Tina had commented that she saw him actually smiling at something other than an animal video the week before. He had let Hank talk to him once too. He kept composed in one meeting with Fowler. And he hadn’t had to buy a new coffee grind that week either.

Was he that different?

“I don’t want your fake empathy your plastic brain thinks it has. Nothing is different.” Gavin deflected, again. He didn’t think anything was much different at all, or maybe he was just lying to get away. 

The android seemed truly a bit disheartened by that, a small pang of guilt went through Gavin’s system.

“Gavin.” Nines was much more firm. “I’m not the bad guy here. You’re stressing yourself out. Your heart rate is high and you’re tense. Stay here, I’m going to get you water.” 

And for some reason, Gavin stayed in his seat. Stirring in his anger, but it turning more to annoyance and exhaustion. 

[wayfarers-ger]

Wayfarers' Ger in 2024

I'm going to make an effort to actually make use of this Tumblr. \o/

What Is Wayfarers' Ger?

It started out as a weekly storytelling RP event with a steppe theme ICly set in a ger/yurt on the Azim steppe, then we started adding bigger events every so often, like our summer event "Steppes on the Beach", but as altaholics, we've also tied in some of our other projects like The Approving Seal and The Ankhai Tribe.

I am an enthusiast of steppe culture & really want to bring some appreciation for the real-world steppe cultures and base a lot of my RP around its culture. I am far from an expert & I take some artistic license like the devs did because it's Mongolia-influenced, not a re-creation.

What's The Plan?

More events in 2024, starting with Tsagaan Sar, the new year. More use of the Approving Seal and the Ankhai Tribe.

I also want to make better use of social media (like Tumblr here), the wider community and our website.

Plans for the Approving Seal

The Approving Seal is a Terncliff-themed cafe & charity and we just did our Starlight event with it. With the Approving Seal, we like to try and offer a more wholesome kind of RP and this year we want to use it for actual charity fundraisers for real-world charities.

We have a charity page set up for it for people to give their own donations to our selected charity (we'll have separate pages if we do a fundraiser for a different charity): https://www.justgiving.com/page/approving-seal

Plans for Wayfarers' Ger

On the Wayfarers' Ger side, I want to lean more & more heavily into the culture stuff, this seems to be the stuff people respond best to, which I am happy for because it's the part I care most about & want to dive deeper with.

As much as I would like to keep a fortnightly RP, we do find they get a variable turn out and I have mused on it & I know we've tried getting them working again, like in the early days, but my energy may be better placed in themed events with more attention to quality.

And I have a few ideas I am toying with for things we could do, including opening the floor for more people to get involved with contributing, because I realise I can sometimes do things on a bit of a whim.

Plans for General Steppe Stuff

I also found some of my "The Real Steppe" blog posts get some popularity and even got a mention in Mirkes Menagerie for my comments about magic on the steppe. So I want to put out more things like it & share them with the Wayfarers' Ger & general Steppe RP community. And I want to go back & spot-check my old blog posts to make sure they're to a standard I am happy with & that I triple-check any facts.

The motivation for triple-checking is that I have learned that not all sources on Mongolian culture are reliable. For example: UNSECO has information about tuulis and the practice but the information confuses different types of Mongolian storytelling & other sources seem to give similar info & frame it in totally the wrong way. And I have better sources who don't mind me asking questions.

Plans for the Ankhai Tribe

The Ankhai tribe is a custom tribe inspired by Tuvans, Mongolians and Siberians, who come from north of the tail mountains and the Dalvalan Grath. Like with how FFXIV approaches cultures, there is still artistic license, so not all ideas/customs are grounded in the real world, but include FFXIV-appropriate flair, to keep it within the realms of fantasy.

We spent some time introducing some of the characters into the general community & ran individual RP's & events to establish IC connections and working through the story arc that allows us to open up the tribe to more people to create their own characters. For 2024, I want to do smaller RP's & events where the tribe is a focus, with room to recruit people into the concept.

Closing Note

I realise I made it a long post. But the new year brings new opportunities and I am still passionate about the RP's we run and want to not neglect things I've started and instead not only keep doing what we do, but aim for something cooler. Plus, with my focus on visiting Mongolian in 2025, learning the language and spending time in groups relating to Mongolia, it's traditions & culture, I hope to work with you all to create greater RP experiences this year and clear out the crickets & cobwebs from both our Tumblr & Discord.

If I don't keep up my promise, hunt me down and slap me.

Peace and love,

Yesunova Hotgo and many, many alts

[paiawon]

of the archaeological discoveries i've studied and seen, perhaps the one that had the biggest impact on me is that of crepereia tryphaena.

my pictures (you can literally see my reflection)

now displayed at centrale montemartini in rome, crepereia tryphaena was a young woman, of about 20 years old, whose sarcophagus was found during the excavation works started in 1889 for the foundations of the palace of justice and for the construction of the umberto I bridge over the tiber in rome. the sarcophagus, engraved with a scene alluding to the girl's death (last row of pictures on the right), was found with four more, all buried between the middle of the 2nd century and the 3rd AD. only two were still sealed: that of tryphaena and crepereius euhodus, buried at the bottom of a well later filled with earth, and placed side by side and decorated only on two sides, like in a double burial.

the funeral equipment, present only in the tryphaena sarcophagus, included many gold ornaments (the intact skeleton of the girl was still adorned with several jewels and a crown of myrtle leaves blocked by a barrette made with small silver flowers. at the time of her burial she wore gold and pearl pendant earrings and a gold necklace with pendants formed by small beryl crystals, and er tunica was held by a gold brooch adorned with an engraved amethyst bezel), and placed next to her skeleton there was an ivory doll with her own doll's kit, matching the jewels of tryphaena. the presence of the doll in the funeral outfit may suggest that she died on the eve of her wedding, not having had time to donate her toys to the gods in the "farewell to childhood" ceremony.

the panel at the museum reads:

Crepereia Tryphaena On 10 May 1889, during the excavations for the construction of the Courthouse in the Prati district, an incredible discovery unearthed two sarcophagi placed next to each other, which held the remains of Crepereia Tryphaena and Creperio Euhodus. The discovery aroused great excitement, as one of the sarcophagi contained the body of a girl, lovingly placed with her opulent trousseau and her ivory doll. We do not know if Crepereia was a young bride or a girl who was soon to be married, but two of her rings, a carnelian signet ring with two clasped hands and another engraved with the name Filetus, immediately brought to mind a wedding ring and the name of her future husband.* Crepereia belonged to a family of wealthy freedmen, or descendants of freedmen, originating from a Greek-speaking region, perhaps Egypt or Syria, as demonstrated by the names of the deceased. The extremely refined manufacture of the doll is probably that of artisans from the city of Alexandria in Egypt. The burial area in the Gardens of Domizia, a property that passed into Imperial ownership during Nero's reign, leads us to believe that the Creperii were given the privilege of being buried here for their lead role in the administration of imperial property. The burial can be dated back to the mid-second century AD, a chronology that is also confirmed by the doll's coiffure, realistically inspired by the Antonine hairstyles of the time, and in particular the trend introduced by Empressed Faustina the Elder and Faustina the Younger. Even the doll had its own miniature trousseau; the objects were inside an elegant ivory and bone box, which was perhaps meant to be opened by the small key hanging from the ring in the doll's hand.

the trousseau and some details (pictures not mine):

*because of this giovanni pascoli, italian poet, composed a poem in latin which he presented on the occasion of the wedding of the daughter of the honourable benzoni, minister of public education of the time

the water imagery comes from the opening of the sarcophagus itself, which was still sealed: the young woman, submerged in the water coming from the nearby tiber river, "appeared as a nymph". archaeologist rodolfo lanciani wrote:

both her skeleton and that of crepereius euhodus are still preserved inside the sarcophagi

[alyssalenko]

Why I Wrote It Bingo

Tagged by @hazelestelle. Thank you darling! I will tag @heroofshield @forlornmelody @foofyschmoofer @hunnybadgerv and @kittynomsdeplume (you can just do the bingo if you don't wanna do the shameless plugging XD)

Template by ao3commentoftheday and can be found here

Below are the links to the fics if you're interested :)

Fixing Canon: 'Twelve Years'. I wanted to fix the in-game romance of James Vega and Femshep, because the scene as it was, was just plain icky.

I just want them to kiss: In 'Hearts Laid Bare' I wanted a kiss after Blackwall's trial when he's reconciling his past and his future all with the inquisitor by his side. It doesn't get addressed outside a couple conversations but her support means the world to him.

This idea wouldn't shut up until I wrote it: How Harry Carlyle and Marlo Ryder got started on their secret relationship in A Dose of Vitamin Me. They literally took over my brain.

Found a prompt list: 30-day NSFW challenge--Mass Effect. I was trying to get out of my comfort zone and this was how I did it.

Everyone lives and nothing hurts: THANE DESERVED A HAPPY ENDING DAMMIT. so I wrote it myself in 'Unexpected'. He gets to reconcile with his son and have his Siha too.

Saw the plot and needed it for my OTP: The Miraculous Takes of Ladybug and Chat Noir and Superman inspired my Superhero AU: We Could be Heroes. I wanted the love square with themselves all while in the more adult world of journalism instead of school.

I was joking with my friend and it happened: I decided James game Kaidan the nickname 'Glowstick' and @forlornmelody was constantly giggling because she would think of disco stick and Lady Gaga's "Love Game" so I had to.

I woke up at 3am with an idea: 'Bound to You' gets credit for this one. I woke up thinking about how Solas put up the veil to seal the old Elves away because they killed Mythal. Then he makes us activate all those elven artifacts to “strengthen the veil” (either that’s not what they really did or he SERIOUSLY wanted to be stopped) and then he kills Mythal to get her soul and the old God soul to bring himself back up to full power so he can tear the veil down…But what if you had an Inquisitor that drank the Well of Sorrows, and was tied to Mythal? Would that mean that they were tied to Solas because he took her soul? Do you think they also felt Mythal's death? I feel like they must have and if they were in a relationship that he'd be easier to find in Trespasser due to the nature of the bond. And what if he killed Mythal BECAUSE the Inquisitor drank from the Well and was tied to her? In his own twisted way he thought he was helping and didn't realize how deep the bond went, considering Mythal controlled the Inquisitor and forced them to stop Morrigan. And then he felt guilty, because now that power is his, but he loves her and doesn't want to MAKE her do anything, and only then does he realize the gravitas of his actions.

This is going to be so HOT: I had toyed with the idea of a Joker/Femshep/Kaidan threesome for a very long time and was finally encouraged to pen 'By All Means' by my darling @naromoreau instead of just thinking about it. It even got a prequel 'On One Condition' and has another sequel in the works

Thought of a great line: In my oneshot 'Of Witchers and Succubi' Eskel has an aside I'm really proud of and it had to make it in. "Maybe it was her own scars, or how gentle and loving she was to him, or how she made a point to kiss every scar on his body telling him he was beautiful and replacing all the bad memories with something good. What was once just a scar from a blade in his side became the place she gripped as she rode him into oblivion, and a deep gash from a nekker claw became a trail of fiery kisses to his pulse point."

Gift fic: I write a lot of gift fics because I do a lot of exchanges. But I used to just knock one out for a birthday or something. I it's a toss up between 'Beautiful Christmas' that I wrote for @starsandskies or 'Until the Stars Crumble' for @briarfox13.

I want this universe and those characters: Underworld meets Mass Effect in 'Claimed'. I've always wanted a vampire and a werewolf as soulmates and had a blast with this one using Femshep and Kaidan as my muses.

It came to me in a dream: This one hasn't been posted anywhere yet. I'm still fleshing it out. But it's two spies who are partners falling in love and there are powers and AIs and car chases and weapon drops. It will be a sci-fi action fic when it's done. :)

I don't even know: This one has snippets out in the universe but hasn't been fully posted anywhere yet. I use it as an outlet to get comfortable with certain words during a sex scene or practice dirty talk and literally just letting whatever is in my head out no matter how filthy. XD eventually it will become a thing just not yet.

Fixing fanon: Everyone sees Conrad Verner as a Shepard obsessed idiot, when in fact he's very smart...just overly zealous. So @naromoreau and I thought, what if we approached it differently (and it also had the prompt something you don't ship but here we are XD)? And thus 'It's a Match' and it's sequel 'Once More with Feeling' were born.

But what happens AFTER canon: After dealing with the devil and stopping it, I wanted a soft moment between Asra and MC in 'Two Halves of a Whole'. I do want to go back and revisit these two with shared sensations because they share a heart.

If no one else will write it I will: Timothy Olmundson can sing and by extension so can Aric Jorgan. I always saw posts about it but no one ever followed through so I did in 'Love Song for No One'

Just to see if I could: i'm not a long-fic kind of person. I want the kisses and the smut, and I want them immediately. So my game spanning, full dialogue run-though of Mass Effect: Curious was to see if i could stick it out. It's been slow going, but I haven't quit yet because I wanted to expand on the little moments between Shepard and Kaidan.

[jaykeybloggz]

Evaluation

In this project I have taken my work in slightly different directions depending on which artists and topics I have been researching and looking into each week.

Initially I looked Into Sherlock Holmes and the victorian era, especially around London. I figured out that i especially liked how the characters of Conan Doyles stories were drawn in the Disney film "The Great Mouse Detective"

I have always enjoyed drawing animal characters, as they are easy to design distinctively, so I decided to for this project.

With the knowledge that we would be designing a cult and a sacred object I took inspiration from one of my own interests, 1930s animation. In the great depression era cartoon "Bimbo's Initiation" comical looking cult leaders are seen.

As these cartoons are rather macabre and gothic looking i thought it would fit with the grittiness of the victorian tone. Especially the backgrounds. (notice the broken windows and knocked over trash can, indication of the great depression) The hard times these cartoons were made in affected their visual design, just like how dark and gloomy victorian illustrations were.

I decided To make a rough design for my cult leader, with somewhat comical robes. as well as design my logo.

The name of puddle gang was a completely off the spot thing, however I thought this could mean a puddle of blood. The name is inconspicuous enough to fly under someones radar as anything suspicious.

At this point in the project we were looking into pixel art and experimenting with how that would look. It was then that I Designed my detective on the spot. Somewhat taking inspiration from Paul Robertson by using black continuous outlines.

Then in the same week as my pixel art experiments we moved onto practical sculpting. first using clay and plaster to create a large logo and then moving down a scale to using super sculpy and resin to cast a wax seal.

This wax seal would be used to seal any letters my cult sent out to its members. I have always been fascinated by wax seals, so i wanted to make this as good as i could. Here is a fairly nice initial mockup.

I also played around with some basic anatomy by using tracing paper to create a skull from an already designed creature and by sculpting an ear, a very complicated shape which i am very happy i replicated as well as i did.

At this time i also toyed with some basic pixel art animation and reseached the voxel art style. looking at paul robertsons amazing composition and the voxels 3d nature made me realsie i would like to add depth to my work when i can. Even if i am not the best at pixel art.

I was able to do just that when i had a rather frustrating session with the program magicavoxel. while i can see the potential it has i found the controls unweildy.

adding depth became less frustrating when i added it to text using phtotoshop. this i had fun with.

I then designed my trading card, improving on an earlier design which is quite ugly. this is on paper and is just a rough sketch, however i liked it so much i vitualy traced over it.

The next week I was able to complete my letter. i used coffee grounds and graphite to make my letter look aged which was a new process for me. when i was little i used teabags ro stain my own little treasure maps of our garden.

I then was able to sculpt on top of the resin seal i had made. making a blade from thin wood and combing that with sculpy to make a hilt and a mound for the balde to stick out from.

the next day we went to the EGX gaming convention in london whcih was good fun, however the most relevent thing to my work was seeing all the indipendeent creators set up shop and gain an audience in person. it was quite inspiring and gave me a little insight into the creative industry.

Overall I am very happy with the outcomes of this project and I think I have given clearly explained how my project developed in this evaluation. I think to improve this project I really could show a more detailed record of my progression with more pictures of my semi complete work. I also think I could plan a bit better. I think the most fun I had was sculpting for the first time, it was really enjoyable.

[hopeonmyphone]

Fashion Week Has a Crush on K-Pop

[...]

BTS’s Chapter 2: Fashion Ambassadorships Yet to Come:

Members from global superstar group BTS also made cameos at Fashion Week. No strangers to fashion icon status themselves, the 7-member group was anointed global ambassadors for Louis Vuitton in 2021. Now, with their “Chapter 2” agenda allowing for more individualized, solo ventures, members SUGA, Jimin, and j-hope have landed their own, independent fashion house ambassadorships with Valentino, Dior, and Louis Vuitton, respectively. .

Dior, who has been stanning BTS for years now having designed stagewear for the band’s 2019 ‘Love Yourself: Speak Yourself’ world tour, gushed about the partnership with the ethereal, multi-talented Park Jimin. "This special bond seals, more than ever, [Jimin’s] friendship with the house and [the Artistic Director for Dior Men] Kim Jones," a statement read from a press release. "The South Korean artist now embodies the spirit and singularity of Dior style."

Jimin, who's recently announced a solo album Face drops next month, took to Instagram to declare he’s “so thrilled to start a journey with @Dior!” 5 Signature Park Jimin Fashion Moves That Make Us Soft Valentino found its muse in SUGA, who recently casually announced a world tour under his solo persona Agust D. Creative Director Pierpaolo Piccioli cited the rapper and producer as a source of inspiration explaining, “[He’s] a multifaceted artist; he is an interpreter and uses his talent and his work to express himself with energy and authenticity. He perfectly embodies everything that DI.VA.s [an acronym that stands for ‘Different Values’] testimonials stand for: diversity, inclusivity, creativity, and passion.”

SUGA responded to the designer’s love with his signature candor, “All individuals have different dreams and values … [Valentino and Piccoli] have been supportive of diversity, which is something that I also believe in.”

JHope is the sartorial chameleon of BTS, bouncing from KAWS-infused hypebeast streetwear to sleekly tailored suiting to the soft-emo aesthetic of his solo album, Jack In the Box. He does it all, making him an enviable ambassador for whichever house is lucky enough to sign him. Last week, Louis Vuitton won and signed the rapper as a house ambassador. "He is beloved by fans across the world for his upbeat energy, precise choreography and creative musical direction," the brand said in a statement. "With a positive on-and-off-stage presence, j-hope continues to push artistic boundaries and inspire international audiences."

With three idols claimed and four left, Bangtan’s ARMY fans are wondering which member is next to secure a luxury brand appointment. To make the wait more fun, ARMY has been batting around couture house names on Twitter and in group chats like kittens batting around toy mice. Fans are hoping Kim Namjoon, stage name RM, blesses Bottega Veneta with his broad shoulders. The BTS leader wore several Bottega Veneta looks while promoting his solo album, Indigo, and the brand itself recently added a dose of validity to the rumored partnership thanks to some recent, high-profile Instagram follows: Matthieu Blazy, Bottega Veneta’s creative director and Dario Gargiulo, the chief marketing and digital business officer, both followed the rapper recently. And with RM sitting front row at Bottega Veneta’s Milan presentation this weekend, an official brand ambassadorship announcement seems all but inevitable.

Currently serving in the South Korean military isn’t stopping rumors of eldest member Kim Seokjin signing with Cartier when he returns to civilian life. Kim Taehyung (stage name V) seems like he’s been training his whole life in preparation for a Celine ambassadorship, often dressing head-to-toe in the brand offstage and attending last year’s Paris Fashion Week show along with actor Park Bo-gum and Blackpink’s Lisa.

There’s also the unsubstantiated rumor of the youngest BTS member, Jeon Jungkook, negotiating with either Versace (the brand he wore while performing at the 2022 FIFA World Cup’s opening ceremony) or Calvin Klein (which would certainly be a monkey paw scenario for ARMY — they're wishing for something that could very well destroy them).

Source: InStyle

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @fourbrickstall​

I’m a photographer who likes to shoot portraits,  acro, and toys. My favorite themes are medieval fantasy, steampunk, and apocalypse. I manage a fan community about LEGO photography called BrickCentral, and I am its LEGO ambassador.

Check out our full interview below!

How did you get your start in photography?

I think I have always really liked looking at things through a lens—I had plenty of microscopes and telescopes growing up—so photography was a natural progression. I started out taking photos of nature, architecture, and travel but really became a photographer in my mind when I learned studio photography. I love creating interesting light on people in particular.

What inspired you to work with LEGO specifically?

Several years ago, a couple of photography blogs I followed featured a 365-day phone photography project by Andrew Whyte about a miniature traveling LEGO photographer. It was the first time I had ever seen toy photography. And LEGO! It had been years since I had ever even looked at LEGO, but it brought back memories of smiley-faced space explorers on lunar bases. I was surprised by how modern LEGO minifigures had become: this LEGO photographer was so urban with a beanie hat on its head and a cute camera in its hand. I immediately wanted to create a little LEGO version of myself, too (called a “sigfig” or signature figure, I later learned.) Around that time, I had my hands full with a toddler and was looking for a way to keep shooting creatively. But I only had space for one bag at a time—a diaper bag or a camera bag—so a phone and a minifig seemed like a fantastic way to keep taking photos.

Once I got my LEGO minifigure in the mail, I started shooting and became instantly hooked. Not only on the photography but on the collecting aspect too. I now have hundreds of minifigures and even more LEGO minifigure parts to create custom characters with. So it was the LEGO that caught my attention right away, but the photography workflow is what sealed the deal for me.

What is your favorite piece of all time? Why?

I really love this photo for lots of reasons. It’s the kind of photographer I want to be: someone who doesn’t let weather or terrain or whatever become an excuse for not doing what they love. I also like that this shot looks like I found this great location in the forest, but the reality is that I shot this on my window sill with just some bark, twigs, and moss that I collected from around Brooklyn. It doesn’t get more metropolitan than NYC, but with just an idea and a few materials, I created a completely different environment. Atmospheric effects are another thing I like to add to my photos, so the “rain” hits the spot. It’s just spray from a water bottle.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

The great thing about shooting LEGO is that it can be as easy or as complex as you want it to be: from subject to gear, to lighting, to location. As a portrait photographer, shooting an unusual or interesting character is part of the thrill, so I spend about an hour creating one custom minifig from my hundreds of loose parts.

Sometimes I use official LEGO models as a subject or as a background, and these take some time to build, depending on the size of the set. I build my own models and scenes, too—known as My Own Creations (MOCs) in LEGO lingo. These take me forever because I’m not a great MOC builder, and I don’t have thousands of LEGO parts at my disposal. It’s not unusual for MOCs to take days or weeks for me to finish. 

This tiny red house on wheels took me about 5 days to build:

This Japanese alley took me a month:

When shooting outdoors, I look for locations that scale well to LEGO minifigs and models and also have beautiful light. I seek out pockets of light through trees to put my subjects in, but I also make sure to have patches of shadow throughout the scene to give it some depth.

I already have some favorite locations, so it’s really just a matter of getting to them or waiting for the right time of day. Indoors, I can get shooting rather quickly at any time of day in my studio nook, which is an alcove I’ve set up with lighting and supports just for my LEGO photography. Having that dedicated space and grip really accelerates getting into a flow state. Negentropy is my friend.

A custom minifig in a MOC photographed in my studio nook is my favorite kind of work to do, but that also takes the longest because of the build time and more complex lighting.

What are 3 things you can’t live without as a creator?

My camera, my lenses, and Lightroom are three things I can’t live without as a creator. I love the whole process of shooting—seeing how different settings and gear change an image—and then taking that image and making it truer to what I feel in post.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating content that you know now?

I wish I knew that it’s easier to find your tribe when you figure out who you are as an artist first. I think it’s tempting to try to belong immediately because it’s exciting to find other people who share the same interests as you. But doing that too quickly and investing too deeply can influence your art or trap you in a style that isn’t really you.

What are your file name conventions?

FBT-desc-of-lego-subject.jpg I’m not as organized as I would like to be, but I have my folders set up descriptively and by date in Lightroom. It’s great for managing thousands of photos.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

I love the DnD artists on Tumblr! I’m so inspired by their beautiful illustrations, character creations, and storytelling. I played a few campaigns with my Dungeon Master brother as a teenager, so I know and love that world. I guess my affinity for custom LEGO characters is rooted in the character creation part of DnD.

My favorite characters these days are artificers and tieflings, so I follow those tags on Tumblr to see all the stunning artwork by the community.

Check out more amazing LEGO photography over at @fourbrickstall​!

[littlefreya]

Bark at the Moon

Summary: Walter always comes to you when he needs a hard release. Tonight he seems to need it more than ever.

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Female Reader 

Word count: 2K (WTF it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: 18+, sex, lycanthropy, supernatural themes, no strings attached, vaginal fingering, oral performed on female, primal play (slight biting and scratching), cockwarming, slight denial, angst, fluff and romance.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: Not me naming my AUs after Ozzy Osbourne songs/albums. Following my post from October I am trying to follow up. This one-shot is also inspired by A Company of Wolves and @fishcustardandclintbarton​ moodboard. Many thanks to my beta and muse and dear friend @agniavateira​ for all the help. 

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🖤

Title: Bark at the Moon

Muddy Timberlands dragged across the worn doormat as the large detective sought to rid himself of the dirt caking his soles. Black and soft, the dark mane of curls hung loosely above his forehead, a pale blue sheen cascading over each ringlet that concealed his face while he kicked his feet like an unruly child.

An instinct within pressed you to reach a wandering hand and entwine your fingers between those healthy locks. But ironically, touching Walter screamed ‘taboo,’ as if he wasn't going to finish wet and messy inside you anyway. 

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been here. 

"Rough evening?" you murmured, taking a long whiff of air. Traces of coffee drifted from his breath, mingling with the brisk November chill that wafted over your face.  

It's not that you didn't enjoy his company; it's just that Walter left you with nothing but bitemarks, bruises, and dirty sheets. A foreigner to this country even after all these years, Walter was much like the salty rocks from the islands that bred him: hardened and crude, yet smooth at the edge where the water licked the stone. Some evenings he wouldn't even speak; the moment his boots made it past the doorway, all civilised manners flew out the window, luring the beast to wander. Shredding your outfit, he’d fuck you to tears, shaking you the way a canine carnivore stuns its prey and then unload himself into you until you ached and begged him to stop.

Once stripped off his uniform, the sullen cop was no different than the deviants he shoved behind iron bars. Little did it matter, you loved him enough for the two of you, and though you knew you were a toy to pass the time, he always crawled back to you with that deprived agonised sparkle staining his gaze. 

After what seemed like an endless battle between his shoes and the bristly rug, he finally paused and slowly lifted his chin. Marine-blue irises peered below thick brows, and a red rim of weariness perfected his customary scowl. 

"Yeah," he drawled with indifference, "got any beer?"  

Observing him for a moment, you studied the sharp ridges of his furrowed brow and nodded, turning to let him in. Despite his heavy frame, he followed with lithe stillness, stepping into your house without making a sound while you advanced to the kitchen. 

Whatever happened tonight must have left another dent in the coarse material that made this man. You often mused on the things he must have seen and found out it’s better not to ask. 

You reached for the fridge when his arm wrapped around your waist by surprise and snatched you back, hauling you flushed against his broad chest. Briefly, he nuzzled your nape, his parted lips huffing hot against your skin. His breath carried the pained melody of a sad longing animal, an ache so great it seeped through the pores of your skin and infected you with his grief. 

You weren’t afraid of the beast but felt sorry for it.

“I need to feel you,” Walter rasped, a timbre of plea in his baritone. Palm swiping greedily at your breast and his cock hard and hungry, he ground his hips at the cleft of your ass. Like the black, shaggy dog that he was, he sniffed the air and then rubbed himself further against your jeans, seducing the wanton animal within you to come out of its hiding. 

“You want me too, I can smell it, I can smell your cunt.” 

Where was the lie?

With a guttural growl, he turned you to face him, skilful hands already making tatters of your clothes and his fangs nipping your throat. Caged in his grasp, you hissed and shuddered out of fear and lust. A part of you was always frightened that one night Walter will pierce an artery by mistake at the heat of the moment whilst another, more archaic urge, called for the sweet passion that was your Thanatos.

Succumbing to both urges, you forced his cable-knit sweater off, exposing his muscular, beefy torso and splaying your hands down his flexing pecs to feel the soft, dark fur that covered his chest and belly. Everything about Walter was large and charged with virility, twisting your moral compass and making any argument weak in his presence. Staring at the bulge in his trousers, you gnawed your bottom lip, giving to the pang of hunger that shot through your clenching core while your wicked fingers began to fumble with the clasp of his belt. 

With a low roar rumbling in his chest, he scrutinised you as if this was a trial, his eyes flashing, anticipating you to reach and grab his large cock. 

“Fuck…” his sonorous voice caressed your ears. He quickly slid his hand down your trousers, grabbing a handful of your ass before gliding his fingers to feel between your engorged petals. 

A tempest of moans unfurled from your clenching throats once you squeezed his shaft in your palm, choking around the veins adorning the meaty girth.

“You are always so wet for me, always so ready,” he uttered and licked your cheek. 

“Walter, please!” 

At your plea, his fingers slipped deep inside your burning cavern. Back and forth, he probed your little slit, spreading thick wetness across your mound and further up your virginal ass to taunt you. 

Before you met Walter you vowed that you’ll never be into that kind of debauchery. But whenever the bulbous crown of his cock accidentally teased your puckered hole, the only thing you could muster to think of was how much you wanted him to fill every empty inch within you.  

Long, nimble fingers dug deep, parting your sealed walls asunder in an endeavour to find the small heap of pleasure that regressed you to savagery. You were nothing but an instrument of pleasure, gyrating to the melody he composed by the rhythm of his thrusts, following every note. He made you shudder, made the earth below split in half and all the while, he held back and watched. A sick mist of curiosity hovered over the frigid ocean that was his glance, mindful of how logic and reason drained from your face, leaving you utterly incoherent and primal. 

Just as he was.

He crooned at your whimpers and nodded at the desperation dripping from your gaze. Hips swaying, you wriggled against his hand in a frustrated attempt to reach for the tendrils of ecstasy that loomed inches from your grasp.

“You want to come, love?” he asked, almost patronising. His brow lifted, and his eyes flared with what you could only describe as pity.

“Yes! Please! Please make me come!” 

His fingers tore from your sleek with a sudden haul, leaving you a trembling, outraged mess. Yet you had no time to curse him for denying your pleasure. Moving faster than your thoughts, Walter stripped your trousers and slammed you rear onto the counter. Kneeling between your spread legs, his strong hands gripped your thighs and dragged your cunt into his bearded jaw.

“Fuck!” 

His mouth wrapped around you in a lover’s embrace, his silky tongue plunging between your lips to savour the honeyed nectar that dripped from your tightening core. Thoroughly devouring your cunt, Walter hummed. Raw, unfiltered, and unbound, he laved every inch within as if he was dining at Olympus and feasting on ambrosia for the first time. Arching back, you dared to entangle your fingers in his curls and ride his bristly face until you succumbed to the furious, quaking bliss that spasmed within your womb and consumed you into rapturous euphoria. 

Engulfed in a veil of blissful darkness, you continued wailing, heaving, and slumping on the counter. Puny jitters of aftershock trod upon your throbbing flesh while Walter finished his feast with languid laps of his tongue.

Once you blinked your eyes open, Walter stood straight between your legs, now fully naked, peering at you quietly. His eyes were aglow with all the conundrums he could never speak. Still hazy from your ecstasy, you stared back with awe, drinking each taut bulging muscle and worshipping the feral, beastlike entity that he was. Not even the scars on his body could steal away his unspoken pride. 

Reaching a hand for his imposing cock, he crept closer and glared straight into your soul as he pressed himself into your tight little entrance. A loud groan thundered through your kitchen as he pushed in, erupting into the most melodic war cry which never failed to astound you once he penetrated you. Still clenched from your orgasm, you gritted your teeth and whimpered in pain, not quite ready to have all of him at once. Yet Walter wasn’t keen on stopping and continued delving deeper and deeper, despite your nails tearing fresh new trails of blood down his shoulders.

“Wait!” you pleaded, yelping when he suddenly bottomed out inside you.

An arduous gasp tore from his lips, and his forehead dropped on your shoulder. Stilling inside you, he breathed in the mien of a wild creature, trying to regain his composure for a brief moment as he timed his assault. Fingers etched below your thighs, he pulled you up with ease and carried you through the apartment whilst still buried inside you.

Confused by his actions, you hung your arms around his thick neck and clung to his body, welcoming the soft brush of his hide against your naked breasts. 

Soon, you found yourself on your bed with him seated beneath you while your legs enveloped his wide waist. Nestled between your cinching walls, his cock throbbed full of rage, desperate for the unbridled friction that Walter forbade as he refused to move. Milking every drop of his self-control, he vigorously fought to dominate his desire. 

With his shaft pulsating hot and buried completely within your womb, your previous orgasm felt like a distant dream and a fresh new need soon awoke, begging your body to writhe on top of him and take what you were promised by force. But Walter was in no rush to unmake any part of you just yet. Securing one arm around the small of your back while the other held your jaw, he made you stare directly into his eyes. 

Bare more than ever, he allowed you to glimpse through the cracks that creased his beautiful blue eyes, showing you the pure terror harbouring the heart of darkness that lived within him. 

Perhaps, a part of him desired you to break and cast him away from you, to say ‘nevermore.’

Mercy softened your face instead. 

Enamoured and embroiled with curiosity, you allowed yourself to roam freely, gliding both your eyes and fingertips to descend the delectable plains of his body. Tender and careful, you stroked a soothing touch over the elevated scar tissue the way one pets a wounded creature, your gentle caress painting over the large claw mark that marked him years ago and left him cursed.

Walter followed the movement of your hand. His chest sinking with a low roar, his cock twitched and swelled inside your protesting canal while he remained immobilised and kept himself sheltered in the warmth of your sanctuary.

“Last night,” he finally spoke, his voice soft yet drenched with hesitation while his eyes dropped to stare into nothing for a shy moment. “Last night, when I turned... I… killed someone…” 

Your heart clenched in anguish along with the seams of your cunt. All the hurt that flowed in Walter’s blood now mingled into yours, ascending your body from the spot where you were coupled. 

What you wanted most of all was not to run. No. You desired to suck the poison tainting his veins and swallow it instead, unable to bring yourself to do anything but love him more than you did earlier. 

Spreading your legs further to each side of his hips, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him. Nails biting into his muscular back you clutched him tightly, making a firm statement of your unwillingness to spite him for his actions. 

Because, even a beast needs to be protected and cared for. 

* Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall * Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

[mooniefics]

— personal punishment

pairing : nanami kento / fem reader

word count : 1.8k

tags : pnp, degradation, authority kink, office sex, semi-public sex, boss / secretary, nanami literally being the sexiest man to ever live and breathe

warnings : nsfw, power imbalance

summary : He couldn't expect you to be perfect—but he could definitely expect you to pay for each imperfection in more ways than one.

notes : thank u so much to @suna-reversed for hosting the incredibly creative jujutsuhub collab and allowing me to participate !! much love (୨୧•͈ᴗ•͈)◞*♡

you couldn't exactly say you weren't proud of your performance today.

for one, you'd come into the office late, knowing that your penalties would be formally waived by your boss but well aware that you would have to face his own personal punishment. it was just your luck that this very day was the most busy the office had been all month, leaving you running papers back and forth from your boss' office for hours, nearly tripping over your own heels three times too many before you even reached your lunch break, praying that you weren't screwing anything else up in your frantic rush.

but before you could even think about escaping the confines of the office building to make up for your missed breakfast at a cafe nearby, your boss was already calling back into his office. you already knew exactly why he was requesting your presence, fear and anticipation immediately tangling into a heavy knot in the pit of your stomach. but still you went, obediently as you always did, keeping your head low as you passed your coworkers in the hall.

your fate had been sealed the moment you made a mistake, the same outcome that had been repeating for months now each time you made an error, whether it was as small as not taking the trash out from the waste bin when it was too full for his liking to something as grievous as spilling his morning coffee all over one of his pristine white button-ups. for any and all errors, you were certain to face this punishment.

the position you were in wasn't unfamiliar, bent over nanami's desk, pencil skirt hiked all the way up to your waist with your underwear around your knees, completely at the mercy of the man caging you in with his body from behind.

"if you keep making all that noise, you're going to end up getting us both fired." he growled, voice low in your ear, one hand still pressed firmly over the center of your back, forcing your chest down onto his desk. the other was occupied between your legs, two thick fingers plunging mercilessly into your needy cunt as you struggled to hold in every whimper and moan each snap of his wrist drew from the back of your throat.

"'m s-sorry, s-sir..!" you barely managed to breathe out, nails beginning to scrape at the edge of the wooden tabletop, teeth digging almost painfully into your bottom lip.

"'sorry' doesn't even begin to fix everything you've fucked up today," his stern tone persisted, ribs aching between the pressure of the heel of his palm and the hard desk, "you know just how much stress i've been under and yet you went out of your way to make it worse."

"no, n-not that..! p-promise!" you whimpered, breath coming in pants, struggling to not rock back into his hand with the knowledge that he'd stop entirely if he noticed you doing it.

you had no choice but to keep your eyes trained on the door in front of you, thighs trembling with anticipation, muted gasps and mewls managing to find their way out into the open air despite your efforts. you knew he didn't mind the noise as long as you were making a conscious effort to keep quiet, only loud enough for him to have the pleasure of hearing, only expressing the pitiful broken attempts at showing remorse that seemed to arouse him to no end.

he curled his fingers to rub at spot inside you that made your knees weak, barely chuckling when you writhed under him. "enjoying your punishment like this... you're just a pathetic slut. That's all you'll ever be, isn't that right?"

Your head hung low as you came over his fingers, shuddering, biting firmly at the inside of your cheeks to hold back the whine threatening to escape your heaving chest. you knew you should be ashamed to be so excited in the face of his cruelty, but when it was his voice and hands—discipling you harshly but still paying such good attention to you and your body—you couldn't help yourself.

before you had enough time to begin catching your breath, you could already hear the clinking of his belt buckle as he pulled it free from the belt loops of his pants, the warmth of naked skin as the length of his cock met the back of your thighs, already hard. the hand resting at your back slid up to rest at the base of your neck, fingers working their way into your hair to firmly grasp, holding you still while he eased himself between your thighs.

"please, s-sir.." The words spilled out of you before you could even think to maintain your obedient silence, earning a tug at your hair harsh enough to jerk your head back, arching your body further.

"snd who are you to be making any demands?" He muttered scornfully, the head of his cock now rubbing directly over your dripping pussy, making no effort to do anything more than painstakingly tease.

"i'm not, i j-just—" You sucked in a quick breath as you felt a sharp sting over your ass, certain there was a reddening welt where his hand had just struck it, "i pr-promise i'll be better..."

"and how can I be certain that you actually will? you say the same thing every damn time, and you still have yet to show me any improvement."

your eyes watered as you searched for a proper response, stammering over your words for just a moment too long—long enough to reignite the anger you'd found a momentary mercy from. you just barely pressed your hand over your mouth in time to muffle your own cry as he slammed himself inside of you, the desk shifting across the ground with a harsh squeak, insides struggling to accommodate his size all at once. he found a quick, ruthless rhythm of thrusting almost immediately, paying your quick gasps and pitiful whimpers no mind, almost painfully deep.

"is this is really the only thing you're good for?" he huffed, groaning lowly despite his apparent ire, "just taking cock and nothing else?"

"n-no!" you protested, barely able to hold your voice steady enough to respond, swallowing down each hiccuped breath interrupting your words, "this is the l-last time, i swear..! p-please sir, please—"

he shushed you harshly before you could continue, large hand rubbing over the aching flesh he'd previously slapped in a silent threat to repeat the action. you wouldn't be entirely opposed to feeling his large hand strike you again and again, leaving prints of red across your skin that wouldn't fade until hours after you'd left the office for the night, but you knew that you still had the entire second half of your day ahead of you to pretend as if he hadn't completely ruined you just meters away from the rest of his hardworking employees.

"at this point, i might as well just be paying to fuck you." he muttered callously, the speed of his hips slowing the slightest bit, each thrust still hitting deep enough for you to feel in your stomach, "then what does that make you, hm? a prostitute? my personal little plaything.."

you strained to vigorously shake your head side to side, fingers aching from how tightly they were clenching around the edge of the desk, your own arousal trailing down between your trembling thighs, hot tears dribbling down your flushed cheeks. you should've felt more inclined to deny his assertion, to prove yourself to be more than just a toy for him to used whenever he desired, when he needed to take out the pent up frustration he saved for your errors and your errors only—but you knew in the back of your mind that you were perfectly content with your position, as immorally lucrative as it was. you would embarrass yourself everyday for the rest of your career if it meant you could experience this at least once more.

"sorry, s-sorry..! oh fuck, sir, 'm so sorry!" the apologies you knew he loved so much spilled from your lips in a pathetic, broken moan, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as you held out for a few more mind-numbing moments before cumming around his thick cock.

you barely registered his hand grasping your hair painfully tight as he grunted a few low curses beside your ear, shakily exhaling a sigh when he emptied himself inside you, finally letting you rest back against the hard surface of his desk while you both caught your breath. it was all over far too soon, the intense intimacy that never lasted longer than the half-hour of your lunch break, even though you were sure he could steal you away for far longer without anyone daring to question him.

you wiped at your damp under-eyes with quivering hands, trying to not further disturb your already ruined mascara, swallowing down a whimper when pulled himself out of you and tugged your underwear back into place, readjusting your skirt for you before moving away from your body entirely.

he had already tidied up his own clothes by the time you pushed yourself to stand, that familiar expression of cool indifference having already resettled onto his handsome features. he barely ever let you see his face when he was disciplining you, always making sure you were facing away from him, or that you couldn't lift your head enough to get a good look at his face. it made it all feel so impersonal, inspired something that felt like sadness in the back of your mind, despite how you tried to remind yourself that what you had wasn't true intimacy, and that he could really replace you any day if he felt so inclined to do so.

"go clean up in the bathroom." he said without looking at you, straightening his tie back into place and checking the time on his watch, "you will need to take a call from a new client soon, and it is imperative that you give them the perfect first impression of our company. i expect you to be back here within the next ten minutes." his brow furrowed, the look of someone who'd just thought of something unpleasant flashing across his features when he finally met your gaze. "no more exceptions today."

"yes, sir." you replied obediently, voice hoarse, quickly turning away before the weight of a sudden sadness could show, advancing towards his door as briskly as your state allowed you to. you didn't look back on your way out, even though you so desperately wanted to, maybe deliver a genuine apology now that you knew he was genuinely irritated with you.

but you didn't, and the day continued as it always did, phone calls and document filing keeping you occupied for the rest of your shift, not receiving another word from your boss regarding anything. you tried not to take it personally when he didn't bid you farewell before leaving the building, reminding yourself that it was most likely just the pressure of a busy quarter, cursing yourself for screwing things up and enjoying your momentary bliss before the true consequence of genuine disappointment from nanami anchored you back to the somber reality of your situation.

it was foolish of you to think you'd be anything more than a secretary in his eyes.

[sunflowerdaisybee]

Bee! I have a request:3

it kinda inspired by the ranboo and dad thing so I was thinking c!ranboo with enderman dad (platonic ofc)

ranboo and the dad got separated when ranboo was a baby and ever since then the dad has been searching for him then he and ranboo got reunited and they’re talking abt what they’ve been doing for the years then ranboo mentioned Michael then the dad is like “I have a grandchild?!?” And get really excited and wants to meet Michael, when he does he spoils Michael with treats and toys

Does this make sense?

Brb crying over how cute this is, anyways hope you enjoy /hj /pos

Summary: You reunite with your lost son

Pairing: P!Ranboo X Reader (he is your son)

Pronouns: He/him

[A/n]: Request are closed, please check back later :]

Trying to raise your half enderman son alone, in the End, was no easy task. While he retained a lot of the enderman features passed down from you, he was very visibly not a full enderbeing. You never minded though, his unique features often reminded you of how dearly you loved him. Your love for him was what got you in such trouble though.

Apparently, ‘mobs’ like you weren’t supposed to have feelings, or have children, yet you had both. The Gods didn’t like this, they claimed that you were disrupting the balance, that you would ruin everything if not stopped.

There was no ‘stopping’ you though, you weren’t out to harm anyone, you didn’t attempt to bring other creatures into your way of life, you were simply trying to raise your son in peace. So the Gods did the only thing they could, they took your only bit of happiness away, they took your son, sealing all entrances to the End behind them.

It had been years since that incident had occurred, but you never forgot. Every moment you could spare was spent on finding a way to escape and travel to the Overworld, to find your son.

“Oh my sweet, I’ll find you soon.” The photo was tattered, clearly from the many years of being carried around by you. There weren’t any means of preserving or framing the photo in the End, everything had been greatly limited after all the portals to the Overworld were closed.

“Ranboo my son, I promise to never stop till I find you.” It had taken many years of hard work but you had managed to reopen one of the forgotten portals. You knew that it would quickly be noticed by the Gods so you had to act fast, if you could get through the portal and up to the surface quickly enough you could blend in amongst the enderbeings left behind years ago.

It was a risky plan, one that had barely worked, but you had managed to pull it off, escaping with a second to spare.

“It’s getting dark, I’ll have to set up shelter for tonight and set out tomorrow. I forgot how queasy portal usage used to make me, the one thing I haven’t missed.” With the limited supplies, you were able to bring, you set up a small hideaway in a cave, using nearby sticks and rocks to spark a small campfire.

“When the sun rises so will I.” You spent the next few days following the same pattern, traveling as far as you could during the day and sleeping throughout the night. When you had the chance you would stop by villages, picking up foods and other items you needed. If you were lucky you would find folks who had seen or at least heard of your missing son.

It had taken you days, many long and tiring days of traveling, sleeping, and avoiding the Gods, but you had done it, you had found your boy. It was by pure luck that it occurred. You both happened to be at the same market at the same time.

“Excuse me, sir, I hate to be a bother but you haven’t happened to have seen my son have you? He’s got two different colored eyes, one red and one green, and he’s half black and half white.”

“Sounds an awful lot like that guy over there.” The blacksmith pointed just over your shoulder, where a tall man stood beside his shorter companions.

“Son?” There was no response, maybe he didn’t know you were speaking to him.

“Ranboo, dear?” The lanky boy froze in his spot, the young goat beside him turning around before he did.

“Uh, who are you?”

“Oh, Ranboo! How I’ve missed you.” Your son hesitated, almost as if he remembered you, but didn’t know why.

“How do you know his name?” The goatling had spoken more than you son, unsurprising as he seemed very protective over his taller friend.

“I’m his dad, I-here look.” You hastily reached into your bag, digging about for the one thing you needed more than ever. The photo was clearly old, the rips and creases in it telling true of its story.

You held the photo up for the two to see, afraid to turn it over to them in case it got damaged, it was your only copy.

“Dad? You’re my dad? You’re my dad! Oh, dad!” It had taken the boy a moment, all the forgotten memories flooding back, the mental dam breaking and releasing all for him to see. When he was sure of your identity he rushed forward, throwing himself into your arms, bringing you in for a much-needed hug.

“I thought I’d never see you again, I was so scared.”

“I know dear, but I never gave up. I knew I would find you again, and look at how you’ve grown!” You pulled back, looking at your son, he was nearly as tall as you.

“You’re almost as tall as me! You’re so thin though, have you been eating well?” You had bombarded the boy with questions about his health, trying to make up for as much time as possible in such a short span.

“Hey what the hell are you two doing! You were supposed to meet us at the fountain ten minutes ago!” A loud blond, carrying two children, approached the three of you, clearly distressed.

“Oh I apologize, I had gotten so caught up in talking with my dad that I forgot!”

“Well here, at least come get Michael, he’s been asking for you for over twenty minutes now.”

“Michael?”

“Oh uh dad, this is Michael, my son.”

“I’m a grandfather?” Ranboo nodded, holding Michael up to see you properly.

“Oh hello sweet boy, look at you! Oh, I can’t wait to spoil you! I can’t believe I’m a grandfather, oh this is just the greatest ever!”

Taglist: @minty-ghast @rokkyy @duddum-froppers @joyfullymulti @l0ver0fj0y @eatensouls-s

[bitacrytic]

...but red is mine [2]

Read Previous Chapter Here

♧♧♧

“Are you here for a business talk with Mr. Korn?”

***

There was a certain poetry to the way things turned out. Not that Vegas would ever want things to go the easy way, but at a certain point, things started to feel a little roundabout. It had never been this hard. What with his cousin choosing, over and over again, to give his trust to men who were easy to read, Vegas had thought this would be over in no time.

But Porsche was turning out to be quite the inconvenient challenge. 

Expensive gifts didn’t work. Elaborate home tours didn’t work. Even when Vegas had tried to lure him with the idea of promised dreams, Porsche’s guard had risen so high that Vegas had to back off.

It wasn’t that it wasn’t working. Vegas could tell. Everything was working on Porsche. Porsche would sooner bash his head on a rock than out rightly refuse Vegas. Even in the bathroom, that night, he’d been uncomfortable, unwilling to submit to Vegas’ touch. And yet, he’d barely struggled. There was a chance that he could have relented, in the end, because if Porsche really wanted Vegas off of him, he was able to make that happen. Drunk or not.

Vegas knew that. The fact that Porsche hadn’t done that, only solidified the truth in Vegas’ mind that this was working.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t working in the way Vegas had hoped. At first he couldn’t tell why. He couldn’t understand why the man basked in the joy of a night ride, but pulled away from a hug, why he laughed at Vegas’ jokes, but kept looking around, why he followed Vegas into a bathroom and undressed, but wouldn’t let Vegas kiss him.

It was rather simple, really. Porsche was loyal.

What a shocking discovery. Porsche couldn’t be bought. He couldn’t be seduced. Simply because Kinn had managed to get to him first. Irritating and naïve as that was, Vegas was glad for this important bit of information. 

Because if Kinn had found himself a man who would follow him to the ends of the earth, the only way to combat that was with another man, whom Kinn had once promised that he’d follow to the ends of the earth.

***

“I love you, Vegas.”

***

He didn’t like that he couldn’t keep Vegas all to himself, but he had to understand. After all, Vegas was busy. Vegas was out of the country. Vegas was underground. Vegas was here, there and everywhere else. The excuses flowed from Vegas easily because he knew that the leash was short and taut. Too much tension and it would snap.

Tawan was probably Vegas’ biggest mistake. He was a loose cannon with aggressive ideas. No amount of training could do away with who he really was on the inside. There were a few ways to keep in line, however. On the off chance that strict words didn’t work, softness always did the trick. 

“It’s lovely,” Tawan said, kneeling between Vegas’ legs.

Vegas was lying on his stomach while working on his laptop because a spurt of inspiration hit, mere seconds after Tawan had cum in him. He was still very hard. He loved the rough rub of the sheets against his dick, even as he pressed into the bed and steadied himself. His mind was reeling with thoughts that he had to put down before he came down from this high.

But Tawan, Vegas sighed. Tawan just couldn’t read the room, some times.

“I wonder if he’s out there,” he said, caressing the mark on Vegas’ back. “Searching for you. Longing for you, the way I do.” He crawled up to his knees, hands braced on either side of Vegas, as he leaned down to kiss Vegas’ mate mark. “I wonder if a part of him still feels it when I do this.”

He licked the mark, once, and then sucked on it, catching the malleable silver of the seal between his teeth. Vegas closed his eyes, enjoying the light tingle around the mark as Tawan toyed with it. 

“Can you do that later?”

“You didn’t cum.”

“Tawan, I have to work.”

He was in a prissy mood. He always got like this whenever he fucked Vegas from behind, digging his fingers into the mate mark like it was the eye of a competing lover, aimed at snatching Vegas from his grasp.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, reaching under Vegas, as he used his knee and his other hand to lift Vegas up, so that he could get to Vegas’ dick. “You have something I want.”

Vegas scowled at his screen and continued to work. It wouldn’t be much longer. Soon, he’d launch this loose cannon and never have to worry about him again.

***

“Don’t make this hard on me.”

***

Vegas should have known. He was impressed, and honestly, he’d offer Kinn a compliment if he thought this was an indication of Kinn’s leadership skills or any ability to hone such dedication in his people. But Vegas should have known. He should have seen the delayed fear that hid sharp eyes, the friendly giggle that was meant to mask the steadfast focus that lay within Pete.

When he moved to apprehend, thinking that Pete was too focused on Porsche to care, the gun shifted swiftly in his direction. Vegas skidded to a halt, putting his hands up in surrender. Too stunned to do anything, he’d had to rely on Porsche’s command to move.

He hadn’t known, hadn’t seen it, until he was standing outside the cell, watching Pete walk down the stairs with a gun in his hand. He’d seen this man before. He’d fought beside this man. But it was something else when that much venom was aimed at Vegas, as the opponent.

“Go, Vegas,” he’d said, pulling Pete away so that Vegas would leave.

He could have stayed behind to fight. He could have helped Porsche get the upper hand. But what good was Porsche to Vegas, if he couldn’t fall behind and keep the problems busy while Vegas made his escape?

***

“He’s not home.”

***

Fuck, Vegas thought, reading the message. 

Tawan had done what he was supposed to do. With Porsche in prison, it was easy to take him away from Kinn. The thumb drive was a trojan horse and there was nothing anyone else could do. All Vegas had to do was get Chay, take Porsche and they’d be gone before anyone knew what was going on.

Fucking Tawan had to go and do his own thing. Who told him Vegas needed information? Vegas was the one with all the information. He didn’t need shit from Kinn. One phone call and he’d be up to date on the events in the major family’s home. No one asked Tawan to get Chay. Because! That! Wasn’t! The! Fucking! Plan!

He didn’t want to be in a fucking warehouse, improvising to use Porsche now as the mole. He needed time. If he’d been able to get Chay and Porsche all to himself, then he’d release him back in a couple of weeks, filled with love and unfailing loyalty to Vegas. Ken was already dead weight with everyone on edge. If Vegas offered Ken up as the mole, replacing him with Porsche would be the best option.

Which could no longer happen, because, now, Porsche knew about Vegas and Tawan.

Because Tawan was a fucking problem.

“Boss, Kinn is on his way here.”

A few shots to the chest immobilized him enough to keep him from coming after Vegas. By the time Kim showed up, Vegas was out.

From one problem to another problem, with no time to even enact his back-up plan, there was only one way this could go. If Tawan stayed behind, he’d be a good patsy to keep Kinn waiting. He had on a vest that Vegas himself had given him.

A shoddy escape that could have been so much better and he hated that so many people were in on it, now. No one would buy any story he could cook up. No one! And he’d lost Porsche altogether, now. There was no helping that plan. It was done and gone. Months spent, prepping Porsche to trust him, leading him to the fire, and it all went to dust.

“We’re sorry, Boss,” his men said as Vegas stood in his study, staring up at the only blank wall in the room.

His father was going to be livid when this all blew up. And there was no one around to sink his teeth into. Vegas hated everything. He grabbed the center table in the room and tossed it at the wall, watching the metal fixtures crash and fall.

“Ken followed Pete to your rooms where he downloaded work schedules, shipment routes and God knows what else. He,” the man hesitated. “He’s the reason they knew how to find you.”

“FUCK!” Vegas slammed his hand on his desk.

“But there’s good news, Boss.”

“Spit it out.”

Both men in the room looked at each other before the one speaking looked back at Vegas.

“He’s still here.”

“Who is?” Vegas asked.

“Pete, Boss. He never left.”

Vegas closed his eyes as tranquility settled upon him. Because he didn’t have to go to bed pent up in aggression and frustration. After all, the cause of all his problems was right here.

For Vegas to do with, as he pleased.

[evil-robot-cat]

People ask what parts I used to make my Sidon custom, and I thought, instead of spitting out a bunch of random numbers, I’ll make a graphic that shows pictures of the Nendoroids I sourced parts from.  Since Tumblr is more text-friendly than Instagram, there’s more info under this handy cut:

HEAD: I chose this one because when you pull out the pigtails, it’s very close to a bald, bare head.  It became problematic when the skull parts didn’t fully close around the face I had chosen.  It’s a rare but possible thing with Nendoroids.  So 100%, you don’t have to find this head specifically, just any head that’s on the simple side - because you’re gonna have to build the fins and tail from scratch!

FACE: Since Sidon doesn’t have a nose (unless...  the ridge...?), it’s good to get a faceplate that also has no nose. A cheap way to get one is to look for an ugly/unpopular Nendoroid More novelty face and repaint it.

TORSO:  “But Robot Cat, there is no torso pic.”  No.  I.  Um.  Don’t actually remember what torso is in there.  It’s a random generic torso from some body or other.  Like the head, all that mattered was having a bare, simple body that I could build Sidon’s shape onto.

ARMS: I wanted arms that had bracelets or cuffs, with holes for separate hands.  There are several like that, this is just the one I found first. As for why...

HANDS: Most Nendoroid hands cut off at the wrist, but some are longer. That extra length can be covered with putty to match up with the arms’ bands.  It’s not easy to do, but it gives Sidon’s arms some extra length. I wasn’t in the HP fandom, so I didn’t know about the terf shit until some time after buying the doll.  I certainly wouldn’t have bought this particular Nendoroid if I had known!  Little Witch Academia is a good substitute. Those are numbers 747, 835, and 859.  It’s what I would use if I were to make this project again.

LEGS: I like these. They’re puffy, so they match his chonky thighs, and they’re jointed, so they can pose.  Only thing is, they’re black, and painting them white was a pain in the ass.  I live in fear of the paint scuffing or chipping.  But it’s worth it for that zora leg look.

WORK: I covered the highlights in another post.  The nitty gritty is easier to see by digging through my Instagram hobby account.  The older this post gets, the further back you’ll have to dig, and I’m sorry for that.  But you’ll see my other adventures and experiments, too!

SAFETY: The most important thing to remember is to use proper PPE.  This is a hobby for adults, and it involves the use of dangerous and toxic chemicals.  When I sculpt, I wear safety goggles and nitrile gloves to protect my eyes and skin.  When I sand/paint/seal, I do it outside and I wear a fitted respirator with P100 filters.  The filters are not permanent - once you can smell things through them, it’s time to change them out. 

Don’t fuck with your lungs.  Don’t do it.  Not for a toy.  Not for anything.

REMINDER: This is not the only/best/correct way to make a custom.  It’s just an in-depth look at what one person did.  You can look at it for inspiration or go “Nah, I’ll do it better than this.”  Customizing is about self expression, so you should be proud of your creations!

EXTRA: The B-word will inevitably come up.  If you’re dabbling your feet in the hobby for the very first time, it’s okay to buy a bootleg to practice on.  But bootlegs are made in unsafe places and conditions, so if you decide to get into customizing for the long haul, then it’s time to avoid the fake stuff.  You can get authentic Nendoroid parts for very low prices at Chibi Chop Shop. They’re legit and reliable. They get their parts directly from licensed GSC distributors and fellow collectors.  I’ve been ordering from them for years and I love them!  I don’t get any kind of discount for saying this stuff, so you know it’s real.