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#but also I really like how it turned out + paneling? so
pokeberry5 · 2 days
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do you have any tips for drawing dynamic poses? i always love the way you draw bodies!!
i know this has been said a million times but the way i draw bodies significantly improved after i started drawing more frequently from reference. if i cant find a reference for a pose on the internet, i'll just use myself or a friend. i spend an unfortunate amount of time just standing in front of my mirror looking at my own joints. pay attention to where your body curves!!
other than that though—honestly my anatomy/pose knowledge is a whack amalgamation of art tips i've accumulated over the years (i miss old school deviantart/tumblr style art tutorials). i also like to look at how artists i admire draw bodies—what details to they include, what anatomical short-hands etc
i think i'm still figuring out how to draw dynamic poses, but here are some cheats i've picked up (under the cut coz this got long again):
gonna use this stray!tim as a base
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the easiest way for make up a pose is to start roughly with the head, collarbones, ribcage, and pelvis — you can build everything from there
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here's a couple more of what i mean by the ribcage-pelvis deconstruction:
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2. push your perspective a little!! imo things look more dynamic if you move your sight-line up or down—the horizontal orange line here. if you look at the panels above, the sight lines tend to be a little low, at around the character's torso or waist. i did the same below with stray!tim
to do this i usually try to get a sense of the space im working in by putting in some sloppy perspective grids
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3. S curves!!! exaggerate the lines of the body. the body naturally has parallel horizontal lines—an easy way to get a body to look less rigid is to tilt those horizontal lines which in turn curves the vertical line of the body
this is what a mean by horizontal lines—usually i use the eyes, shoulders, and hips:
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i'm gonna use caterina as a better example—usually you want the horizontal lines to sort of zigzag:
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i've also picked up a couple visual tricks that don't exactly add dynamism to a pose? but they do give a static pose a little more oomph. a lot of this is done by visually highlighting one specific point of the body
for our purposes, i'm gonna make the focal point tim's face
motion blur! there are a couple ways to do this. i actually dont like working with traditional motion blur because you have to mess around with selections, so i usually fake motion blur using postional perspective blur:
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2. gradient lighting—you can add a lot of depth this way. usually i like setting the gradient in the direction of the focal point, e.g. tim's face
below, i added a layer above the base drawing, used an airbrush to get this gradient, and then set the layer to color burn and lowered the opacity. you can also clip the lighting layer to the base drawing and set it to multiply
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below, i did the opposite—instead of adding a gradient shadow, i added gradient light. i set the layer to add this time (instead of color burn) and then lowered the opacity again.
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this kinda serves to desaturate the parts of the piece that are less important (ish i was kinda sloppy here), driving the eye to face—the most saturated. the motion blur does a similar thing, where the only thing "in focus" is tim's face
the gradient also sort of adds a directionality to the piece—it starts at the bottom right corner and goes up towards the upper left, causing your eye to follow that same path, which drags your gaze up tim's body
here's what it looks like when i combine 1 and 2:
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3. chromatic aberration's been pretty popular recently. it does a similar thing as perspective blur but with more eyestrain (although i went with a really exaggerated version below just to show you what it does) but it looks cool!
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bonus cryptid tim as a reward for getting to the end :-)
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gaycrittercentral · 8 months
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I realized I make a lot of spelling mistakes, damn you autism!
Anywho can we see more of the virtues? I would love to see kindness more, like him on the couch like how you described
Sfhfhshsjhd y’know what’s funny, my autism does the opposite bc I’m a nerd whose special interest is spelling and grammar 😂 but yeah I completely feel that no worries bud
Oh and HELL yeah I love my guy Kindness!! and so it is my great pleasure to reveal to you all this, my first fully colored comic in probably years because uh. welp y'all know how art block be lmao
also since this is based on a scene I sorta wrote out in a previous post, I've included that snippet under the comic! And here's a link to the original post, where I detailed everything about the virtues.
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and then he immediately pops out of existence lmaoooooo
Max tells him to sit on the couch and relax while he grabs some snacks and coffee. The whole time, he has to keep insisting that Kindness stay seated instead of jumping back up to help. Eventually he grabs Kindness by the shoulders to explain that having his partner as, essentially, a self-offered indentured servant is funny and all, but it’s making him uncomfortable. They work so well together because they’ve always been equal, and as high and mighty as Max likes to act sometimes, it feels bad to just keep taking everything from his best friend and to be unable to give anything back. In a dreadfully ironic twist, preventing Max (and others, by extension) from doing anything for him is sort of unkind in and of itself. “So just keep your ass seated and let me do what I need to do, okay? You’re stressing me out. Eat your donut and calm down already.” And Kindness, maybe a little starry-eyed, finally concedes and allows Max to grab a blanket and finish making them some coffee. Once that’s done they sit on the couch together under the blanket for a minute and watch some junk TV while they eat a much-needed snack. After a few minutes of that, Max ventures, “Sooo…can I get that heart now, or…?” “Aw, buddy. You know you already have it.” And with a final little side hug, which Max finally returns with only a little grumbling about how sappy it is, he poofs out of existence.
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sysig · 3 months
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Gift (Patreon)
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part 1 of hopefully several of drawing manga panels i like in the anime's style
here's the sketch because i really like it, as well as the referenced panel and a little ramble:
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we'll ignore that this panel is technically in the anime. i just wanted to include more of him in it, y'know? the rest will be ones the anime either didnt include or didnt frame in the way the manga did
anyways AAAAAAA drawing in the official style is making my brain REALLY recognize that what im drawing is him so im having a lot of fun and i will continue to be unwell about him :D
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arkos404 · 1 year
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short comic based on a scene from bound by @trixie-troubleby, an amazing sportarobbie fic whose praise i cant sing enough and the thing that singlehandedly pulled me into a fandom i havent been invested in in years, i really recomend it even if youre not that into the show because honestly its just that good, here’s the summary!
Robbie and Sportacus both preferred to keep their distance from the courts of intrigue and political rivalries of their respective people. But when an alliance is proposed between the trickster court and the northern elves, they are forced to try and continue their normal lives, while magically bound to each other.
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spider-man-2o99 · 11 months
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makes you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again makes  you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again
#talking tag#spider-man 2099#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#vulture 2099#marvel#comics#comic panels#something something idk man i justt enjoy these issues theyre Fun#whag do u want from me. the bungled potential is tantalizing when i Want to indulge in ripping and tearing into canon?#as i always say lmao vulture 2099 COULD be a really interesting character. like. the Potential's there#reinforces how Lucky mig was that he came from a life of having as many privileges as he had when he got mutated... and that nobody Saw It.#plus yknow. can also serve as a narrative Mirror for migs worst fears abt himself! what would YOU do if ur intrusive thoughts made manifest-#--called YOU a coward and a capitalist pawn 4 not wanting 2 kill and eat people . and all while wearing THOSE tassled PANTS....#idk man just something real neat 2 me abt how vulture is the only villain mig kills On Purpose and even then he Runs b4 he hits the ground.#his anger burns out so Fast. he cant even like. make himself watch the Cannibal Gang Boss get turned into street pizza yknow#he feels worse about killing the VULTURE than he ever really did about killing the specialist because he actively CHOSE to do it this time#cutting the specialist's throat w/ his talons was just an Accident caused by him lashing out against an enemy determined 2 Kill Him y/k#yeah it still caused him a great amnt of Distress to accidentally Kill Someone but he does not spend any panels shedding tears over the guy.#but the vulture. the VULTURE stays on his mind for the next 30 issues AT LEAST......#god this miserable little man. great power and greater guilt and responsibility both a burden and inherent.
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humanmorph · 1 year
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art for @beanenchilada‘s epistolary ferol fic “Messenger Pigeons at the End of the World“ which i dearly love
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aforgottenballad · 2 years
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The YTTD manga is awful and you should probably avoid it for your own inner peace, but here’s a dump of some individual panels that I liked
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atanx · 11 months
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realised that i should prob post this for the tagging stuff.
context: yuko gets her heart transplant (that's what the scar on the chest is) and survives, in 2005 she meets Kiryu again who doesn't recognise her because the last time he properly say her was like 13 or so years ago and she was very much very frail
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fox-guardian · 2 months
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[ID: An eight page digital comic featuring Sam, Celia, and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on a gray background. The characters are all colored with a single color each. Sam is red, Celia is green, and Alice is pink. Sam is a fat Arab man with short curly dark hair, a mustache, and a small goatee, and he is wearing small black earrings, a cardigan, a turtleneck, trousers and loafers. Celia is a taller Korean woman with short dark hair and she is wearing rectangular glasses, piercings including an industrial piercing, an x-shaped earring, and snakebites, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, trousers, and black wrist cuffs. Alice is an even taller white woman with long fluffy hair and crooked teeth, and she is wearing cat eye glasses, three pairs of earrings, snakebites, a flannel shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, a patchwork skirt, bracelets, and a lanyard.
Sam and Celia are stood at a table covered in papers. Celia urgently turns to Sam. Celia: Alice is coming! She can't catch us researching, we need a diversion, QUICK! How can we make her think we're not doing what we're doing? Sam, shrugging really hard: UHHHH she thinks I have a crush on you?? Celia, sweating, turns back to where Alice is coming from, panicked, and turns back to Sam, shrugging and reaching for him. Celia smiling a bit manically: Yeah, that'll work, sure!
Sam, with Celia's hands grabbing his cardigan: Wait whaAAAA- He is pulled out of frame. Alice walks in: Hey Sam, working hard or hardly woOOOAA She leans on the doorframe as she holds a hand to her chest in shock.
The next panel is rendered with soft pink shadows and "shoujo sparkles" in the now pink background. Sam is sitting on the table holding onto Celia, whose face is buried in his neck as she wraps one arm around his back and the other holds up one of his legs under his knee. Neither of their faces are visible. The rest of the page fades back to gray from there. Sam and Celia look over at Alice, hair ruffled, Sam is now blushing. Sam: ALICE!! He pushes Celia away and they look at each other for a moment, panicked. Sam: It's- .... exactly what it looks like! Celia: Aw, you've caught us! He rests his hands on her shoulders and they both look in opposite directions as though embarrassed. Celia is also blushing lightly. There are red and green neon signs pointing to them reading "Totally Ham-Slammin'" and "GAY! (in an M/F way)" respectively.
Alice looks to be in shock with a vacant expression and a computer pop up over her forehead reading "Alice.exe has stopped responding". In the next panel she is fine again and back to smirking. Alice: WOW SAM, didn't know you had it in you! Now I'm no snitch, so I didn't see anything, BUT- you lovebirds should cut it out before Gwen catches you. Celia and Sam look at each other anxiously, cheeks pressed together as she speaks. Alice: You KNOW she'd tell Lena. Celia, pulling back and smoothing her hair out: Oh, for sure. Sam: Th-Thanks, Alice. Alice: Don't mention it! I'll give you crazy kids a minute to straighten up, TA-TA~ She waves as she leaves.
Sam and Celia listen to her steps fade before going "phew" and finally pulling away from each other, now holding hands at an arms distance. Celia: You alright? That was kinda sudden.... Sam: It's fine! Just a bit caught off guard. Celia: I can't believe she actually bought all of that! Sam: Me either! Works for me, though.
Celia: Did you want to get down- Sam, pulling away suddenly, blushing again: NO! He crosses his legs and looks away sheepishly, scratching his head. Sam: I wanna stay here another minute or so.... Celia, concerned: You sure you're alright? Sam: Yeah! Just, er.... Celia looks at him, confused. Sam, blushing increasingly harder: Ahem. (He folds his hands in his lap politely.) I am not immune to being thrown on a table. Celia, smiling and politely stepping away: AH! .... Noted~
She walks away casually, still smiling. Celia: I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Sam, head down in his lap, embarrassed: Thanks.... He looks up after she leaves. Sam: Wait. He straightens up, slightly panicked, face entirely red. Sam: What do you mean by "NOTED"?!
end ID]
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i am SO glad this episode didn't entirely debunk the silly headcanon that birthed this comic. initially i wasn't convinced sam actually had a crush so i made this like "well if he didn't before, HE DOES NOW" so.... here's this silly comic thing <3 i just think they're neat <3
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whathorselegs · 2 months
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So we all know this scene, right?
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And we know how Dazai tries to handle it by pretending to be a scared kid and Chuuya interrupts him to challenge the guy to a fight, because I have been thinking about these tactics recently.
Dazai is not really mafia at this point, this is his first mission. He's still somewhat naive to the world of gangs, even if he's witnessed it, he's not lived it like Chuuya has. This tactic of acting like a scared little kid, definitely feels like something Dazai pulled when trying to get away with things around regular adults. I mean, look how easily he turns on those tears, it's practiced, he's used to it working.
He's responding to what the guy is saying, he calls them "kids" and looks confused as to why kids are here. Dazai then selects the defenceless innocent act as a way to get out of being held at gun point and possibly get information.
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He's used to this kind of thing working, but the fact is, if Chuuya hadn't interrupted him, it most likely wouldn't of. Because Dazai doesn't know the type of enemy he's up against, he doesn't know these people are willing to cross the line and harm kids yet.
Look at these panels closely. The panel before Dazai starts faking crying the gun is pointed directly at him,
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whilst he starts his crying act in the panels previously mentioned, the gun is still squarely on him, and afterwards
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In the top panel it is still pointing at him, until Chuuya speaks. His tactic isn't working. The enemy never wavers or lowers his gun, he either doesn't believe Dazai or doesn't care.
Chuuya sees that. He sees the gun still pointing at Dazai. He looks annoyed in the first panel above because this man, as far as he knows, is pointing a gun at an innocent kid.
And as soon as Chuuya speaks, the gun shifts to him. Chuuya, King of Sheep, protector and shield. A boy so used to defending those weaker than him, he smiles when he's able to get the attention of a man holding a gun. As far as Chuuya is concerned at this point, Dazai might as well be as defenceless as the rest of The Sheep. Sure, he has his ability No Longer Human, but what good is that against a grown man with a gun? So Chuuya defends him the same way he defends his friends.
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And he makes sure to keep that attention on him whilst he tests this man. Yeah, we know he puts his head to the gun to transfer his ability, but I also think it's important that Chuuya waits in this moment. He doesn't just take this guy out because of a perceived threat, he waits until it's confirmed. Chuuya doesn't throw the first punch because Chuuya doesn't start fights, he fights back. Just like The Sheep said, he hits their enemies back a thousand times harder.
Dazai complains Chuuya interrupted him here, but Dazai was completely out of his depth in this moment. Chuuya didn't ruin his plan, he saved his life.
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incognit0slut · 9 months
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Lose Control
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:
warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex
words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)
a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳
MASTERLIST
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“…mind games until you lose control…”
CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.
"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."
He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."
"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."
His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"
"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"
"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.
"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."
His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."
"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."
His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.
It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.
She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.
"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"
Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"
But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."
She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."
"You can only open it from the other side."
She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"
"No."
She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"
"Nobody's going to hear you."
She tuned him out.
"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.
"What are you doing?"
He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."
She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"
"Then you have yourself to blame."
She glared at him. "You're not helping."
Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.
He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."
She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.
Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.
Again.
This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."
"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."
"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."
His cardigans were not ugly.
He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.
"Stop staring at me."
Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."
"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."
There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"
"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"
When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."
He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.
This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.
He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.
As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.
"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."
A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"
"Like you either want to strangle me or—"
"Or?" He prompted.
Like you want to eat me alive.
It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.
They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.
“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."
"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."
She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."
"You don't even know how I flirt."
"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."
"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”
She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"
"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."
She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"
He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."
She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."
She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.
Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?
Spencer fucking Reid?
It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.
Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."
"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."
"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."
She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”
Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.
A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.
He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."
She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."
"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."
Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"
"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."
"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.
"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."
She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.
A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"
Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.
"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."
She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."
"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.
"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."
"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"
Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"
"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."
She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."
"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."
The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"
"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.
"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."
She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."
"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"
"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.
But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.
"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."
"Reid—"
"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."
Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.
"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.
"Did you forget my name?"
Unbelievable.
"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."
But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.
Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.
Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.
Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"
There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.
This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.
"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."
A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.
Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."
She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.
The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.
"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.
"Do you still hate me?"
Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"
"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"
"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."
Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.
He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"
She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.
"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."
Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."
She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.
He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.
He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.
"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."
She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."
He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."
And then all hell broke loose.
He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.
Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.
One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."
She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.
Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."
"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"
She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"
"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.
"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."
He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."
"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."
With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."
Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"
"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."
How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...
It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.
"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.
His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.
A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."
This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."
His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."
"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.
He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."
She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"
Then she couldn't help her next words.
"Should I call you daddy?"
Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."
"A menace you enjoy fucking?"
His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."
Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.
Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.
"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."
It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender
"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."
As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.
"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."
She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.
When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.
Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"
Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.
"Get on your knees."
The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.
"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.
She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.
Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.
He groaned at the sight.
"I-I'm gonna come—"
And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.
Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.
It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.
"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."
In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.
"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."
Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."
When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"
"My underwear?"
He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.
"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."
He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."
Her steps faltered.
"Might?"
But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.
She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.
Because what the fuck did she get herself into?
.
Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?
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lunahearts · 3 months
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Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.
So: I want to talk about chapter 28
This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.
One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.
I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.
So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.
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It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.
Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels
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(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)
Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.
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This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.
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This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.
The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.
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HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.
Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:
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Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).
But Falin doesn't let it go.
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Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.
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I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.
Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?
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She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.
It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.
Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.
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And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.
But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.
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I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:
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The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.
And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.
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This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.
But then you move on the next page, and...
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Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.
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She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).
Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.
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And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.
But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.
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And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.
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And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.
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When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.
What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.
Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.
After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.
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Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.
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As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.
I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page
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Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.
But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.
That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.
But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.
As Laios puts it later...
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If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.
(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)
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sysig · 3 months
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*You’re starting to feel very sleepy... (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Gaster#Sans#Papyrus#Mostly silliness and randoms but also a little two-panel for funsies ♪#Always with the miserable Gaster! Pre-void tho just when he had cracks in his face#Would you please let your friends heal you just once you mess of a skeleton - you're not going to let your sons do it so!#Angy Snas <3 I'm really happy with how that one turned out haha#He really has such a cute face! Even when he's mad!#It's the big eye sockets I think - his mouth is quite fun to draw emoting other than a smile too :)#So disheveled! Your shoulder's gonna get so cold and then you'll be even meaner! Lol#Various babybones sleeping positions <3 Sans up top exemplifying the cat pose#Initially it was supposed to be that one sleeping position kids do where they sleep all middle-scrunched but the rest splayed out?#Does anyone know what I'm talking about lol I used to sleep like that when I was a littley#He does look very cute tho <3 Skeleton loaf ♥#Papyrus starfishing haha - either rolled away while sleeping on the floor away from Sans or they're sleeping mismatched#Otherwise Sans would definitely be curled up in any of the many negative spaces lol#Maybe that last sleeping Sans is the matching one! Just lost the energy to get all the way up onto the cot haha#Laying on his back and kicking his feet up and finally just dozed off like that haha#More sleepies! You cannot escape them Papyrus!#Sans knocking out at a moment's notice and dragging Papyrus with him - started early! Just so comfy together#Gaster just ;/ at Papyrus complaining lol he wants to run around and play!#Gaster has a lot of work to do and it would be a lot easier if things were quiet for a little while let your brother lead naptime#I do love his whiny complaint haha ''YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I'M /SLEEPY/!!'' ''...Yes?'' ''NOOOOOOOOOOO'' Lol
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mamashenanigans · 5 months
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When my head isn’t filled with “keephishandkeephishandkeephishand” on a loop, I actually think about more stuff from 407.
Someone on X pointed this out, but how wittle baby boy Yoichi is shown here…
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Makes it seem like the people that AFO just killed had maybe beat him up. Of course, AFO is taking their metapowers away too, but it’s an interesting catch. And, yes, Yoichi is wearing fitted clothes while AFO walks around with something just wrapped around him.
You know how Yoichi still believed there was good in his brother because of the kindness of his “hand”?
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Well, in case you missed it…
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They were born apart with their hands already reaching out to each other. They are on their backs right now, so those are the same hands that are holding/being held.
This means…
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AFO grabbed Yoichi and dragged him with him. What you’re seeing in that top panel is the water starting to overflow the river and rush past. AFO pulled Yoichi out of the water and on to their mother. He is also using the spike quirk for teeth and on his hand to grab onto their mother and pull them up. The bottom left panel is him biting into her dress as he pulls them out of the danger of the water. Yes, AFO saved Yoichi when they were fucking newborns. THIS is what Yoichi has a faint memory of. That was the kindness.
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I know some people have been wondering if they’re fraternal or identical. This seems to suggest that they are in fact sharing the same umbilical cord. It’s rare for fraternal twins to have this. It’s crazy to think that Yoichi may have looked just like AFO if he had the same amount of nutrients. But I digress…
A very notable thing about AFO’s eyes: they are huge and creepy in feral/survivor mode. We’ve seen his eyes get like this as AFOTomura and when he goes into rage mode against All Might and now Bakugo.
Here, he is quite literally just walking down the street past the anti-meta people and presumably just heard them talk about killing metas. Once they take notice of him, he turns his head towards them and his eyes are huge like a startled animal.
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He then proceeds to kill them and still has that feral look.
But now let me get to something pretty important…
We don’t see AFO actually smile until this panel
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Once he has a dream of everyone living for his sake, like Yoichi, he is finally smiling. And continues to do so after this point.
Something really bothering me is that they must have named themselves including their surname. Shigaraki means “death tree” which fits in nicely as they were born “from death”. However, where did Yoichi get his name? AFO must have named him and Yoichi can mean “first gift”. So he named him that because Yoichi was QUITE LITERALLY the first thing AFO ever had. As for AFO…I don’t know if he would take the time to name himself. Yoichi only calls him big brother so he may have told Yoichi to just keep calling him that then decided to name himself after the Quirk he also named himself: All for One. Dude is really committed to the bit.
There’s one more thing I haven’t seen anyone touch on yet…
The hatred.
As you probably recall, Hawks has a talk with Best Jeanist over AFO’s lack of emotions and lack of hate. Why he has to use Tomura to get OFA.
406 explained why that is perfectly.
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When he feels hatred, he is forced to remember WHEN HE WAS TOLD HE KILLED HIS BROTHER HOLY SHIT. It would also be possibly the first and only time he ever cried. Felt real grief. So, he never “feels” REAL hatred because that would mean having to confront this memory.
It’s fucking genius.
You’’re welcome.
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luveline · 2 years
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Hiii I literally love you and your writing especially your Eddie writing!!! Anywaysss, could I request a shy!reader where they and Eddie are dating but they kinda kept it on the down low but reader was having a bad day and was being all clingy and like everyone found out and the hellfire club was just like 😮
hi i love u ty for ur request! hope this okay ♥️ shy!fem!reader | 1k words
You know you shouldn’t go to his club. It’s not fair of you. Hellfire is one of his sacred nerd rituals. As soon as he sees you like this he’ll put it on pause, and you also know – one of the only things you do know about Dungeons and Dragons — that stopping in the middle of a game interrupts the flow.
Still. You’re feeling a little selfish and a lot strung out. Today has sucked and all you’ve done is wish he was there to make you feel better, so you walk down the hallway to the club room and stand at the door, trying to summon the courage to open it.
On the other side, Mike Wheeler catches a flash of your clothes through the small glass panel and frowns. He jabs Dustin Henderson hard in the side, earning a, “What the fuck, dude?” that Mike quickly shushes.
“There’s a girl outside,” he says.
Girls are… uncommon, at Hellfire.
Dustin leans forward to look around Mike’s torso and forgets to whisper. “Is she crying?”
Eddie looks up, annoyed at being interrupted by the newbies and about to delve into a speech on respecting your dungeon master when his gaze slides past them. He spots your torso, your hands pulled up to your chest, and he knows it’s you. From the curve of your arm alone.
He’s half standing when you knock.
The rest of the group gawp as he stands. Usually, Eddie would either ignore whoever it is or have someone else answer, and his sudden willingness is downright shocking.
He cracks the door open. He’s barely had time to take in your tear stained cheeks when you’re whispering apologies. “I’m really sorry,” you say quickly, pulling the sleeves of your soft cardigan down over your hands. “I needed to see you.”
“What happened?” he asks, trying for hushed like you but missing the mark.
Mike and Dustin make incredulous faces at each other, eyes squinted in confusion.
“Who the fuck is that?” Mike asks.
Lucas Sinclair grins from across the table. “Who do you think?”
“You know her?” Dustin questions. He sounds pissed to have been kept out of the loop.
“Nope,” Lucas says, elbows sliding over the crinkling paper of his character sheet as he pulls in his chair. “I’ve never seen her before in my life. But that’s definitely his girlfriend.”
A handful of laughs from around the table. “Yeah, right,” Gareth says.
Lucas leans in even closer, practically conspiratorial as he points to Eddie’s dirty-white sneakers. “Look, see how close they’re standing?” When nobody looks convinced, Lucas glares. “I know what I’m talking about!”
He really does. The toes of your shoes are a hair's-width from Eddie’s, face to the ground as you scrub your wet cheeks. Telling him about your bad day has made it somehow feel better and worse, and your breathing comes shallow.
“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I know you’re playing your- um, your game.”
Eddie glances over his shoulder. The large majority of the group whip their faces back to their sheets, caught. He shoots a scowl at them all, though any annoyance slips away when he turns back to you. You look so sad.
Eddie doesn’t really think about it. He steps out into the hall and lets the door close behind him, arms wrapping around you placatingly. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s been a really shitty day,” you say hoarsely.
“I know,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. Your shoulders tremble under his palm. “You should’ve found me earlier.”
“I didn’t want to ruin your game.”
“You haven’t. They’re on break,” he promises.
It’s a total lie but he couldn't care less about the campaign, not when you’ve come unraveled. You nod into his chest and worm your shaking hand around his waist, squeezing so tightly it aches. His head tucks over yours like it was made to and he wills some stillness into you, perturbed by your shuddering. He hates when you get like this. You're so wound up you can’t calm yourself down.
Inside the club room, there’s a riot of whispering, some quieter than others.
Lucas sits back in his chair smugly. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be so surprised,” he says to Mike.
Mike peers through the glass door with a mild disgust. “Me and my girlfriend don’t do that.”
“That is not true.”
“We don’t-“
“No, they really don’t,” Dustin agrees. “They’re too busy trying to swallow each other.
Anyone who’d been listening starts to laugh, worse when Mike’s cheeks flare red and he flips them all the bird. The laughter quickly dies when the door opens and Eddie returns, his sad maybe-girlfriend trailing behind him.
“Someone get a chair for Y/N,” is all he says.
You look like you might burst into flames on the spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You hate it.
“Thank you,” you say, though you aren’t sure who you’re thanking as somebody passes you a chair. Eddie sits back in his ‘throne’ and you sit beside him, cheeks dry but eyes still red and face downtrodden.
Eddie leans back and rolls his eyes at the silence. “She’s my assistant for today's session,” he says concisely, before any of them think they have the right to ask.
Eddie can’t hold your hand and you don’t think you could survive it in front of so many people, but when the game starts back up and everyone is distracted he pushes his foot behind your calf and pulls your leg toward him. There’s a smile on his face as he orchestrates the next dungeon, his pen scratching down notes you don’t understand.
He rips a page from his notebook and passes it to you covertly.
You take it and let it lie against your thighs. When you read it, you struggle to suppress a giddy smile.
Prettiest assistant ever. Think she'll let me take her out tonight?
He likes his chances.
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