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jinuaei · 9 months ago

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Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage.

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth.

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed.

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.”

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up.

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden?

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!”

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well.

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages.

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

“So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?”

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food.

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food.

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…”

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

(I unfortunately do not do taglists)

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Divider by @/cafekitsune

#yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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s1llydr3amscape · 7 months ago

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Maybe it was the friends we made along the way!

My security breach cast re-imagined when we first got the posters and merch leaks!!! I changed them into ocs because after seeing their in game designs I fell in love <33333

Another reason why Vanny is my fave is because I don't have to design her clothes /j

Extras and ramblings under the cut :

Zoomed in because I drew them on the same canvas like a goober :

Many reasons why I chose to make the way it is are cause hehehehe

-I didn't like Roxy at first because off that funko leak being a reused model of Foxy. So I made her a hyena recolor using his model because I think they're cool, yet I still kept the fact she's the shortest because of Foxy in fnaf 1 being the shortest!!! And it did sorta happen with her being his replacement 😭She has short hair because I think one of her main appeals would be she would change up her hair every other week.

-Freddy is a moon bear because I miss Lefty. Also cuz I thought Fazbear Ent developed enough technology so that they could change colors during the night/dark like in the posters making them blacklight/neon. Also once again I miss Lefty and Also Nightmare. He had blue eyes freaky like that because I think FazEnt was developing new technologies to recognize guests by having their main stars test them out. And it did happen in the game so yay!!!

-I genuinely didn't think Bonnie would show up because off the leaks but at the time everyone designed their own version off him and so did I!!! I made him white and brown as a homage to Vannys help wanted mask. The blue streaks in his hair also relates to my Vanessa design. Reasons for this is because with how advanced the AI it was to trick them into thinking they were eachother friends. Why because the heartbreak would've been catastrophic.

-Chica didn't change much but I added brown because I love the color brown it is my top 1 color with purple following behind. Also because I love gradients I fucking love gradients you bet your ass if I add gradients I could <333 She has feather hair like that because off Big Bird I saw in a short fnaf sesame street horror yt video and that scared and gave me nightmares because of this one scene of a lady giving birth to his kid??? Idk it scared me alot. She's my favorite tho <3333

-Monty didn't change except he had circular glasses because I wanted him to match with Roxy as the newest additions to the Fazbear brand!!! Also man I wish one of them was a drummer but I couldn't decide between if Roxy or Monty would get it. I also didn't know Roxanne would be racing and gave her rock climbing. Reasons cause imagining her chasing you being able to climb walls would be scary. My only wish Is that I made his snout longer I want you to be able to hold it like a weapon

-They all have eyelashes because I think that is epic!!!

-Freddy is the tallest. Bonnie and Chica are the same height and Roxanne is the shortest

Might redraw them in my oc world version (if anyone would be interested it's basically also a robot story with my old fnaf oc's now turned rivals to Fazbear Entertainment) and not simplified but my other wips need me they are calling for me they are telling me to finish them and I must!!! Probably

And here's my older art after we got to see the game and the designs are wack oughhh :

They would've fought with my pink yellow blue Vanny design!!! Which is the only one I redesigned because I love Vanny to much... You can see her pre-design here and oughh Pink Vanny <3333

-If you look closely Vanny has a Dino looking tail!!! And that's because I thought hey imagine each time we defeated an animatronic she'd sew a piece off their body onto her suit! So when we killed Monty she'd scavenged and get his tail!!! With Chica she got her chicken feet!! And with Roxanne she gets her teeth!!!

-Why because I associate her with Pinkamena cupcakes so much. Also to add onto my previous statement with Bonnie looking like her old mask. She changed her suit in the final act to solidify herself as the bad guy (final boss) who had been using the animatronics for his own gain.

-Man I never draw Chica with her head bow now that I think abt it same with Vanny's whiskers god what was I thinking!!!

Also sorry they're oddly cropped I watermark my stuff to remember what year I made them in and my old username is bad 💀

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf fanart #fnaf au #glamrock freddy #glamrock bonnie #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #my art #the seals sanctum

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ranticore · 4 months ago

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selected pages from Shapeshifter Problems, a small exploration of old old concept art & thoughts on shapeshifter tropes (specifically the question of the 'true form') i posted to patreon earlier this year. there's a bunch more haha. here's some OLD art and bg process for writing said the black horse. I don't like my old art but looking back at it I'm really happy how I've developed since, I used to make everything too sharp, straight-sided, or skinny. I had to make a conscious effort to change that and now it's so much better.

image transcriptions under the cut (just the text sorry)

Image 1: "These are more of those older designs - the horns were a deliberate play into devil imagery on Puck's part while giving Félix this form (all to cause more torment of course) but again I couldn't vibe with it. Such clear statements of intent didn't work for me.

The scars remain canon but not quite so stark, more a difference in texture (again, moving away from visual details). His forehead scar is ALWAYS there."

Image 2: "Félix. These are really old - from 2019-2020. They're the first attempts at Félix's horse form. At the time I was leaning into some goat-like attributes. I liked the idea of something that looked like an emaciated amalgam of many familiar creatures but if you look closer, it actually doesn't look like any animal at all. The original body shape and proportions were inspired by moose. I didn't know how to draw convincing horse shapes which is why he had these hands and claws for so long. I still draw the little flower wheel pattern on his sides sometimes... a secret just for me. His belly fur, squared off ear shape, and beard are still defining characteristics"

Image 3: "More old art from 2020. Bottom left is my first ever painting on my iPad using Procreate. I still prefer SAI for creature drawings, or at least the original sketches underpinning a lot of my art. Below on the bottom was my attempt at a scarier form for the character but I ultimately decided that it ran contrary to the atmosphere I was trying to create. Top left is my first 'real' horse painting and it includes the tail shape which has not ever changed, and feathers, which I nixed because I wanted to learn how to draw the feet and legs properly and not rely on covering them up with flowing hair (my favourite thing to draw)"

Image 4: "Like the black horse designs, these humanoid designs for Félix (circa 2019 - OLD art!) started very complex and simplified over time. I decided to avoid visual complexity, but made the mistake of solidifying specific 'rules' for how the Púca servants' bodies work, and I deeply regret this. Because I wrote Said the Black Horse in 2021, I was still operating under the old mindset and that caused it to become somewhat established canon.

In his original iteration his tattoos represented magical contracts between him and various faeries, so they were supposed to be always visible as a reminder of that contract.

<- a really early furry version, I was playing with the eye on the neck as a design feature. Ultimately I feel that although it looks cool, the medium he exists in is proser. So I needed to move away from visually complex designs and towards designs which were interesting to different senses instead."

Image 5: "As time went on the design simplified. I enjoyed making fun textures using procreate brushes. These designs lack his forehead scar but do include his impalement scar. If you've seen my Hanged Man card you'll know how he got that one. But when I made the charts like this about how his body 'worked' in 2020, again I ran into the same issue I always do when writing about faeries... the more I explain it, the most 'logic' and 'science' goes into it, the less it feels like a faery story to me. Overexplaining is anathema to the faeries of Inver. so even though I like these design notes they just don't fit in this setting."

#setting: inver #mvf

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littledollll · 1 year ago

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Call me your angel

Lucifer Morningstar x human!reader

A/n: i love fics that just randomly come to me. In this case I was scrolling through the Lucifer tag like a starved animal (realized I’m practically the main user of it btw) and came across this post by: @masscared-star and immediately thought of some cute sort of intimate conversation scene simply because of that beautiful back-facing drawing. So this is whatever that idea was! Beautiful art btw!<3

Again special thanks to @pebbleswritessometimes and @v3nusxsky for helping me brainstorm and with the general writing process as always.

Warnings: Lucifer’s a little closed off, aludes slightly to sex (barely), non-sexual intimacy, slight insecurity, Lucifer suffering bc of their own mind.

_______________________________

“…you look so pretty..” Lucifer’s attention was captured by your barely whispered words. They were lost in their own mind, always thinking about something, there wasn’t a moment they lived without so much running through their mind. So much you would probably never know.

‘You know enough’, they said. ‘You know what you have to. You know what you really want to.’ Though it wasn’t quite true. You’d never know enough about them. There wasn’t an amount you could know about them without wanting for more.

You wanted to study each and every part of them and their complicated mind. You wanted to understand and feel whatever they did. To feel tethered to this wonderful being. But you know better. And so do they. There is a price to pay with that much knowledge, with all that power.

Maybe in far into the future, you’d finally know everything about the devil, maybe you could have a sliver of understanding for all of it. But for each thing there is time, unlimited time at that. So you had no rush. Lucifer felt comfort in knowing that.

The feeling of your warm hands wrapping around their back and just over their stomach made a slight shiver run through their body, their wings fluttering at the contact.

Your chest pressed against their back, wrapping them in a familiar and warm embrace. And in that moment you felt every running thought leave their mind as they relaxed into your embrace. Their ever-powerful wings rested against their back, against you.

“I wouldn’t know what it feels like.. I have my fair supply of never-ending thoughts. Insecurities and such. Curiosities mostly.”

Immediately, they knew you were observing them. Reading their behaviors. You already knew, or at least had an idea of what was on their mind.

“It’s not all that different from yours then.. no, not truly.” You nodded, they continued.

“Curiosity brought me here.” You disagree. But arguing that would be pointless, you have a thousand times before. “Why do you humans wish to know and have an explanation for everything? The universe is so grand and complicated... sometimes I wish I knew nothing.”

That’s a hard sentiment to combat. You say nothing, letting their statement be just that. “We think we deserve to, maybe. Is it wrong to wonder about everything that was and brought us here? We all want to know about different things, mostly anyways. I wish to know all about you.”

“You deserve to.”

Their statement leaves you confused. Didn’t they just argue we really shouldn’t? That it’s foolish for a human to want to know and understand everything. “I don’t think we d-��

“No. You deserve to. But I fear knowing everything might cause more harm than good. I do not wish for you to understand my wretched mind. But I wish to offer you understanding… does that make any sense?”

Their hands meet your own, feather light touches trace your forearms and each hand, each finger even. Like they’re just admiring you. As if they hadn’t a thousand times before. As if they hadn't a few moments ago. Their hands wrap around your own.

You nod again.

“I’m not in the dark about you… I don’t feel as such either. Maybe it’s my human brain making me want to know it all, hm?” They playfully scoffed, amused by your behavior towards this topic.

“There is vast knowledge that lives in me. Greater than any human mind could ever comprehend. Greater than even I can truly understand. It certainly feels like a burden. But you welcome it and me with open arms, why?”

That idiot. How can somebody so smart be so stupid all at the same time?

“I don’t think you need a map to understand why I love and accept you, angel.” That made them pause. You felt them suck in a breath, and their heart just- stop. Granted it was something they did for your comfort, the devil doesn’t truly need a heartbeat. So there was no concern for their health, but fear for wondering if you went too far.

“..I call you my devil so often, I-..” you wished you could see their face now, it would give you a bit of an idea on how to continue. But you’d have to guess and trust you know them enough to know how they felt in that moment.

You felt a soft squeeze in your right hand, before their thumb began to gently caress the back of it. It made you sigh in relief. “I feel as if you’re my angel, in a way that is very personal to me and no one else.”

That felt nice, hearing your soft words, understanding more or less what you meant by it. “I like it... you may continue calling me that.”

“Call me your angel.” They spoke almost shyly, even through what you would often call their ‘fancy’ way of speaking (a habit you’ve also picked up after so long with them). It was thoroughly amusing to you.

“And so I will, my angel.” They felt the words whispered against their skin, something was oddly comforting about it, Lucifer wished to relish in it forever, bathe in the feeling of the warmth of your love. But that was no far fetched dream, this was it. That warmth was you. That warmth was theirs for all eternity.

#lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #the sandman #lucifer morningstar the sandman #lucifer morningstar sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #gwendoline christie #lucifer sandman fluff

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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months ago

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Vino Veritas - Part III

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding

It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.

“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.

“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”

This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.

When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”

He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”

“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”

He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”

“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”

You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.

“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”

“Presumably not.”

“Then what the fuck?”

“Quite.”

Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.

He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”

You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.

You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.

That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.

The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception

“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Keith dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.

“Do you…want to dance?”

Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.

“I said I used to like it.”

“Fine.”

Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.

“Why, do you want to dance?”

“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.

After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”

If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Keith was not the cause of it.

Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.

“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.

He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.

The meandering and pointless Walk

“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Keith thing?”

Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”

“I’m not rich.”

“Fine. Privileged.”

That’s probably true. Goddammit.

“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”

“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”

“What if I care?”

He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”

“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”

“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”

“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”

“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.

He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”

You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.

He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.

You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a mountain lion.”

“What the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”

“Is it a bobcat?”

“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”

“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m smaller and slower.”

“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”

It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.

Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.

“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.

You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.

“Fuck!”

When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”

You just lie there, unable to move.

“Y/n?”

Are you even alive?

Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”

He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.

“I’m fine! Jesus!”

“Ok. Sorry.”

You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.

“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.

“I saved us.”

“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”

He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.

He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“I—”

Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?

He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”

This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.

“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”

A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.

Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”

“You weren’t that into it?”

He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”

“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.

“Please don’t say it was Keith,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”

You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”

He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”

Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”

You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.

“What if I said you’re in luck?”

“I would say that’s highly improbable.”

You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.

“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.

“Why? Are you actually into it?”

He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.

“What—”

You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”

“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.

He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.

“I think I’d like to be inside you.”

“How’s your health?”

“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”

“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”

He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”

“That definitely makes more sense.”

“Well?”

You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.

“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.

He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.

You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.

“Something funny?”

“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”

“All the time.”

You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”

You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.

“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.

“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.

“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”

“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.

He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.

“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief?”

“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”

“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”

You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.

“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.

“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.

“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”

“Yes.”

TBC...

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ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.

#destination wedding #frank x you #frank reeves x you #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #destination wedding frank x you #frank x y/n #frank x reader #keanu reeves x reader #vino veritas destination wedding fic

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flowers-of-io · 3 months ago

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Destinytober - Dream, Tree

Read on Ao3 with proper formatting

There is a garden at the end of the world. It's just a children's story, some people would tell you, but that's not true--I've been there. It's a gorgeous place, filled with birdsong and the sweet scent of fruit trees in bloom, awash in pink-golden light. Its inhabitants, in their broad variety, wade in the lush grass, picking at scraps and building new things from it.

The garden, you see, is a little like a landfill. All things failed and discarded end up here. From the smallest krill to the mightiest warrior--everyone who could not bear the weight of existence, here finds solace and respite from their burdens.

I can already hear you accusing me of overmetaphorising. There is no end of the world! The cosmos is infinite and Guardians make their own fate. Even the radiolaria in their little bronze caskets may soon have to make peace with this fact. This is the beauty of existence: it keeps going on, and on, aimlessly and for no reason other than it just does. Arte pro arte--but oh, what beautiful art it is indeed! We have always appreciated this majesty, me and her. You could say it was the love of life which brought us together. Would you believe that?

(You'd do well brushing up on your Symmetrist writings. The sword and the bomb share some very basic principles.)

And now the children's story (and a holy story, because believers are a lot like children): in the garden at the end of the world, there is a tree. It grows tall over the hedges and flowerbeds, spilling shadow over the ground and enticing birds with its sprawling branches. But no birds that choose to nest in its boughs ever emerge back into the sunlight. There's a terrible power in its heady scent, the way it inspires violence in anything that breathes it in; its leaves are ruin, the bark disaster, and of the seeds... well. Its roots sink in piles of bloodied feathers.

It is a cautionary tale, teaching children that curiosity can kill, and believers--that there is no end to conflict, even in paradise. The unshakeable rule of existence, caught in a parable and give shape.

But did you know it had been a gift? One of the first she'd given me, back before everything became complicated. A proof of love, you might say. It's still ruinous, of course--but I do wonder if it has changed your perspective a little, me admitting this? Do you think of it in gentler terms, now that you know it had been a mark of affection? A crime of passion is still a crime, but has a nicer ring to it. You could compare the splatters of blood to a rose garden and still get away with the metaphor.

Of course, were you to tell this fable to a scholar, their first question would be, "why does the tree incite violence?" But as I said, it's a children's story. And that is not something a child would ask. Children understand stories better than adults do: they accept there is a set of rules that cannot be questioned unless the whole world falls apart, and the essence of the tale trickles out through the cracks and sinks into the ground. There's no use asking how the hag could ever have an oven inside a gingerbread house; it is an axiom, and while you could waste time trying to dissect it, it wouldn't do much beside ruining the entire point of the story. The tree incites violence because it does. Taking this statement apart doesn't deny the reality it describes. There are still dead birds on the ground.

It's just as I said--life goes on, and on, with no aim or meaning, directionless and unfettered and entirely without a point. It is, for all intents and purposes, what it is.

But I will let you in on a secret: the Symmetrists are wrong. There is no other tree, in some different corner of the world, that would inspire in its beholders a proclivity towards peace and mercy. Not every rule of the universe has a mirrored rule; and however far you might look, the number of wicked witches and brave maidens will never be equal. Sometimes--to assume your very shallow and constraining human perspective--evil simply wins.

But then again, what do I know. Maybe it's just a children's story.

#i'm a little eeehhh about this fic but i am also way past the point of caring #my fics #destinytober #destinytober24 #destinytober 2024 #destiny 2 #the darkness

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leafnighthybridwolfsbane · 3 months ago

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Rainwing Headcanons

(Info below the cut)

Here are the Rainwings now! Used a different brush this time 'round. I have been told this reminded someone of fruit punch and genuinely I can't disagree with that statement. Maybe when I'm done with all of them I'll post them as adopts. Should I do a poll for it?

Tribe Headcanons

Rainwing horns are branched like trees and antlers for better camouflage in the trees.

Looking at them from the front, their noses look like a pierced heart.

They hang from trees like bats when sleeping at night, causing them to sleep similarly to whales and dolphins so they don't drop to the ground on their heads.

Their fangs are retractable. Though, they have a recessive trait where the fangs stick out of their snouts.

They have an "Iguana" frill on their neck that aids in courtship.

This frill is the first place on the body to start shifting colors, making it the easiest to control the color shifting.

Their long limbs aid in reaching into tight spaces.

The spikes along the spine are actually small feathers that start at the base of the skull where the spine attaches to the skull. These feathers can have different shapes at the end of the tail, including "bald".

The hooked wing thumb helps hang onto trees and are surprisingly very strong

Their ears are naturally "feathery"/"flowery" from internal eugenics as the tribe found them extremely attractive at one point. Some still do, but it's not like it once was.

Their wings are mostly meant for gliding. They can fly long distances in small bursts, but they're meant for short travel times.

The upper part of the wing matches the spine scales and the patterns that are on the body.

The underside of the wing matches the frill colors.

Complicated patterns that resemble animals are common. Those with more simplistic designs across their scales are considered desirable due to it.

Rainwings are the smallest out of all the Pyrrhian tribes. They are bigger than all of the Pantalan tribes, though outliers do exist, but this is just the normal size difference.

When Rainwings find a partner, or partners, one part of their coloration to their scales tend to take on a color of the partner's scales when both are in love. This process is a bit harder to detect when dragon of another tribe is in the relationship.

A Rainwings' base colors are primarily based on their emotions within their childhood. These colors can change depending on how severe an experience was.

Rainwings are the most emotionally intelligent tribe. It's a lot easier with others of their own tribes, but they get a sort of "vibe check" sense with other dragons.

Lore Headcanons

Ancient Rainwing scrolls tend to say their origins my have been allwings from before the scorching. This is in a constant debate until around the time the Rainwings had changed their customs. Only very recently have the debates be resurfaced when the scrolls were found. Though, they're not as heated.

Old superstition once stated that the more prongs a Rainwing has on their horns, the more partners they'd have. The main horn being the Rainwing in question, and having a minimum of one prong, meaning one partner. The superstitions have been proven false on multiple occasions. Some still believe them though.

Some Rainwings don't like intertribal relationships because they don't know if the other dragon loves the Rainwing back due to their lack of color shifting. This worry is normally eased if they were jewelry that is the same color as the scales were before they had changed colors.

If a Rainwing has a patterning of a certain animal, it's considered murder of another if the Rainwing were to kill the animal they share a pattern with. This doesn't mean they can't eat it though. As long as another dragon kills it.

Much like Seawings, one of the Rainwings primary exports is their art. Rainwings are arguably better artists than Seawings, though the two tribes are close with that aspect.

As the Rainwings helped the Nightwings, it was a culture shock for them. They started to become acutely aware over the years the emotions of another dragon by their tone, facial expressions, and body language. Some believe this was a lost ability of theirs that they once had in the past.

Drawing Inspirations

Snakes and the Cornish Rex are inspirations for the body structure.

Patterning can come from any jungle animal.

They're like color changing sparkledogs in dragon form. So jewelry isn't really needed, but it makes them stand out even more.

Monochromatic patterns means something really wrong with the Rainwing. Be it traumatic, or like Chameleon with his physical disability.

Wing of Fire Headcanon List

Seawings

Sandwings

Skywings

Icewings

Mudwings

Leafwings

Hivewings

Silkwings

#wings of fire #wof #wings of fire art #wings of fire design #wings of fire headcanons #wof art #wof design #wof headcanon #wof rainwing #rainwing #wings of fire rainwing #wings of fire dragon #wof artist #wings of fire artist #wof headcanons #wof dragon #wof drawing #wings of fire drawing

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candylandphotos · 1 year ago

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eyeshadow feather creative lipstick beauty makeup model cosmetics lipstick beauty❤️

"Unveiling Artistic Beauty: Where Eyeshadow, Creative Feathers, and Captivating Lipstick Converge ❤️"

#Vibrant eyeshadow palette #Feather-inspired elegance #Lipstick color spectrum #Creative makeup fusion #Model's captivating gaze #Dramatic beauty expression #Artful cosmetic composition #Bold lip statement #Innovative beauty accents #Makeup artistry synergy #Expressive feather details #Unique beauty palette #Avant-garde cosmetics blend #Lipstick shade variety #Captivating makeup ensemble ❤️#beautiful women #pretty woman #pretty girl

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sketchfanda · 11 months ago

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Kirishima's Mystique:Cat on the Prowl

Sometimes Kirishima had to wonder if it was a little much to ask for just one patrol in the twilight evening times to be just a bit more quiet? Oh he was all on board to ensure the safety of the public and all that but it’d be nice to have one night go smooth and peaceful as possible then head home to enjoy a little bit of R&R quality time with his two favourite girls in the world. But such was the life of a pro hero, one way or another especially when Murphy’s Law would come out of nowhere with a Diamond Cutter like the bitch it was. Case in point being his current situation.

Seemed someone had decided to break into a museum of all place and try to pilfer God only knows what was inside it. Given all the art work and artefacts inside that were worth anywhere between six figures to enough to have you set for life, on top of the security? Hey least it wasn’t some dumb ass protestor trying to make some moronic statement by glueing themselves to a painting and try to deface it but I digress. Back with our hardheaded red-head and what was going on with him at this very moment.

That being him currently pursuing the thief in question who was quite the slippery and tricky rascal to say the least they leapt across rooftops in manners that would make professional parkour artists green with envy. Pretty impressive given the no doubt heavy amount of loot they had to be carrying but he was nothing if not determined to see the perpetrator caught. From what could be gleamed of their appearance, they seemed to be a feline person or wearing feline themed suit of sorts, a literal cat burglar? Someone had quite a sense of humour to them.

After minutes of relentless pursuit he saw his elusiva quarry cease running no doubt assuming they'd lost any opposition as they parked on a flat rooftop up on a high rise, the sturdy himbo using his quirk to advantage. Clawed styled fingers piercing the solid concrete as he scaled and climbed up to find his target sitting atop a ventilation shaft duct, no doubt catching their breath and making a quick check and count of their loot. From what he could see of their backside, it was definitely a woman as he carefully made his way towards her to swiftly take her down and subdue her. A slight purr from her throat as she held up a diamond between her fingers, catching his reflection in it as she dropped it back into her bag of stolen goods and stood up turning around to face him.

Suffice to say Kirishima was momentarily stunned to find this literal cat burglar was none other than Selina Kyle, THE one and only infamous CatWoman of Gotham herself. Her toned curvy figure contained within and highlighted by a skintight black and leather latex ensemble that Midnight herself would approve of very much. The sensual mature thief grinning like well, a cat that found herself a little mouse to play as she took her zipper at the top of her collar and slid it down oh so, very slowly. Inches of rich smooth caramel tanned skin and cleavage and a smooth set of abdominals revealed as the front of her outfit became undone and exposed right before his crimson eyes as she sensually licked her lips and reached in with take out her trademark whip.

Catwoman:”Well well, figures I’d run into one of the locals, can’t expect to to anywhere in Japan and not meet a cape and mask type when prowling. Especially a cute slab of meat like you….”*Sensually licking her lips as she began her infamous teasing and flirting routine, wrapping her whip around herself like it was a feather boa. Sensually purring as she radiated a sexual charisma and charm on par with Midnight herself as she eyed Kirishima with a hunger and thirst. She had to say compared to a certain pointy eared on and off gentleman of hers back stateside, the Red Riot wasn’t half bad. Taking delight in the awkwardness he was no doubt feeling at such attention and interest from a mature older woman like herself.* “Come on now handsome, mind looking the other way and letting me walk off with my gains? I’ll make it worth your while…”

Kirishima*Shakes his head to regain focus as he looked at the literal cat burglar with determination, sure she was a tease but he was used to such saucy flirting given his experience especially with a pair of girlfriends like Mina and Maya. He would not be swayed by her admittedly stunning good looks and pornographic body, no sir!!* “can’t do that ma’am, I got take you in or at least take back what you stole!! Now we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way…and we both know it’s obvious you’re going for the hard way!!” *indeed Selina flashed a coy smile as she began lashing out some strikes on the air and ground, making clear that if that’s the way it was to be? Hard way it was as he activated his quirk, the young future pro and infamous thief moved in to clash.*

Selina of course had hoped it would be easy but seems tonight wasn’t her lucky night, pouting adorably as she found herself pinned back flat on the ground. Her whip a few feet from her grasp along with her belt for her tools and equipment as Kirishima had her in her clutches. Just her luck that she had encounter a guy with strength and durability on par with Killer Croc but she had to say, up close like this? Not only was he a looker but god damn those muscles, she coild grind cheese in those abs….it was making her feel turned on.

Selina:*Deciding to play an ace up her sleeve as she began flashing the pull eyes or rsther the kitty eyes, with the pout to match.* “Awww come on tough guy, it’s my first time and offence here in Japan, how about you let me go and you take the loot? Better yet you let me keep half? I’ll make it worth your while….”*She knew it was a long shot but honestly he was rather hoping for something else besides bribing this guy, not that he seemed the type for it, virtue was as distinct as this guy’s gym body. If anything she was going for a nice bit of erotic action, it’d been quite a long dry spell for her to a degree that toys and her own fingers wouldn’t cut it. And she always was a sucker for angelfaces with the musculature of Greek gods.*

Kirishima:*Slight blush on his face aside, he was handling Selina’s flirting and persuasion well as can be.*”Can’t do that ma’am, just wouldn’t sit right with me….”*Selina couldn’t help but feel a giddy tingle with anticipation, the moral compass boyscouts were always a turn on for her. A sensual smile on her face as she found those blood red eyes of his unable to look away from her still exposed torso from having unzipped her suit. Her tits inches away from slipping out to expose themselves as she sensually licked her lips sensing he was getting as turned on as she was, seems her boy scout had a thing for girls like herself, oh if she only knew how right she was.*

Sensing opportunity presenting itself, the seductive thief managed to move her legs out from under him to wrap around them around his waist. Pulling him in close as she freed her arms from his grasp to wrap them around his shoulders and press her lips to his as she ambushed him with a passionate, tongue fuelled French kiss. Taking advantage of his sudden shock and surprise to roll around so that she now laid atop him, straddling his wait as she deepened her liplock. Soon breaking for air with strands of saliva between them as she sat up, looking at him with a sensual gaze as she landed softly, shuddering with delight at the look in his eyes as she began to peel off her suit.

Her luscious, firm tits now flashed before his eyes in all their naked glory as she pried her upper torso out of thst skintight leather and latex, skin glistening with sweat. The feline themed crook caressing his muscles as she traced and memorised those firm cut abs and pecs, oohing and aweing with delight as her ass felt a very distinct bulge bumping against it, seemed this himbo had the package to go along with that physique. Shifting and adjusting her position as she trapped his head between her thighs, she may not have been Mina or Maya or even Mirko but she definitely had some good ones on her as she parked her booty on his face. While she found herself before his crotch, undoing the belt and fly as she was eager to play with the treasure contained within.

But to say she was shocked and surprised was an understatement as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped at seeing that exposed erect slab of manhood before her. The absolute length and girth before her leaving the sexy thief at a rare loss for words, switches in her brain being flipped as she found herself grasping and squeezing that cock. Like some primal instincts reached out to her inner feline telling her to go all in on going all the way with this absolute unit of an alpha male as she commenced with performing fellation. Licking and sucking on that cock as inches of his meat filled her mouth, giving her an oral preview of what awaited her pussy.

Speaking of which, Kirishima had figured the con-woman was trying to play him for a sap, using her feminine wiles on what she figured to be some naive cherry virgin boy. As he grasped that leather and latex clad booty, teeth latching onto the fly of her outfit's zipper to bring down lower. Exposing her slit and anal pucker before him as Selina widened her jade green cat-like eyes at suddenly feeling the sturdy himbo return fire with a little oral assault of his own. And she had to say, he sure as hell knew how to eat a pussy out!!

Now Selina was no stranger to sex, mind you and she'd been with her share of men and women alike. But she never imagined she'd find the tables turned on her like this and she had to say, she was liking it a lot!! After an intense, sloppy 69 session, it wasn't long before they were both naked, the seductive tease of a thief's cowl, goggles and boots all she had still on her as she found herself taking it doggy or rather kitty style as this young buck of a man mountain fucked her deep and hard. Arms and legs shaky as her jiggling, slutty ass stuck in the air, shaking with every impact of that shaft and those heavy balls smacking her clit before she found herself flat on the floor as he plowed her prone bone.

It wasn't often the infamous Catwoman found herself dominated sexually but Kirishima was showing himself to be quite a young man full of surprises. The rooftop aloud with the echoes of skin slapping sex and cries of passion and ecstasy as orgasms rocked her world one after another. And did he have stamina to spare, to say nothing of his little quirk trick and could he be assertive and abrasive!! It was a turn-on, that was for sure.

But of course the difference in momentum and skill of course wound up being in Kirishima's favour, as he held Selina's luscious hips while she bounced and rode on his cock cowgirl style, her tits bouncing hypnotically as her usually coy face wore an expression that made it clear her brain was numb with pleasure. Before she went limp as a ragdoll as she and the sturdy chivalrous himbo came together simultaneously, a baker's dozen worth of hot, white baby batter pumping and flooding into her womb. The feline afficianado gently laid down on the cool, smooth rooftop surface, a well fucked and satisfied smile on her face and a belly full of cum as Kirishima decided to call this erotic duel a draw. Taking back and returning her stolen goods, after getting his clothes back on of course while maybe hoping the authorities would find her here and secure her arrest..and maybe maintain her dignity.

Of course the tricky thief managed to elude capture but opted to lay low of course until any heat died down. Not that she minded of course, after a lay like that. Now she had herself a new hobby and boytoy to play with, as Kirishima somehow found his phone getting an unknown number sending him a few lewd texts and pictures not long after that hot rooftop encounter evening. Among them being a nude pic from Selina showing off her dumptruck ass while wearing little more than cat ears, jewellery and some thigh high boots.

Not to mention for some reason, the Catwoman always left a date, time and place, as if leaving hints for when and where she might strike next and where he could find her for a rematch. Naturally Mina and Maya found out and oooh was their teasing and flirting relentless especially when they insisted on wanting to help him out with "dealing" with that hot piece of kitty ass. Yeah once again Kirishima really wondered what it would take to just have a normal, peaceful patrol that didn't wind up with him somehow getting a female crook sexually addicted to him. Then again it wasn't always so bad.....right?

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unsanctioned-if · 6 months ago

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What is the fashion like in your world?

Oh, what a fun question!

It’s taken me quite some time to get to since I had to think about fashion in parts of the world not immediately shown in the beginning of the story and consider more details that I hadn’t previously thought of.

Just like in the real world, the fashion and clothing styles vary a lot depending on the different regions and cultures.

I'll mainly focus on the fashion of Aíos, which is the country where "Unsanctioned" takes place, though I'll also touch on the nations of Ciralor (Azora's homeland) and Ekkeran.

Aíos

The vale where the MC spends most of their childhood is ever cold and bitter, reminiscent of Ekkeran, though the rest of northern Aíos doesn't suffer this unending, unnatural predicament. Clothing focuses on practicality; partly due to the shifting temperature and partly because this part of the land is situated closer to the wilderness and thus remains more at risk for impromptu visits from forest creatures.

The clothing among the less well off is constructed from repurposed, hard-wearing materials like thick felt and wool. Garments need to be durable enough to withstand the rigors of manual labor, unpredictable weather conditions and frequent mending. Earthy tones and muted colors are common due to the limited accessibility of expensive dyes.

In order to add a hint of elegance to their clothing, people can sometimes be seen with hand-carved wooden buttons, bead embroidery and cord work.

Thinner fabrics often come in layers in an attempt to create the illusion of grandeur despite humble means. In general, the focus tends to be on clean cuts and minimal ornamentation.

Old clothing items are at times repurposed and transformed into new pieces.

Talzaric – Aíos’ capital – has a considerably warmer temperature, but that doesn’t mean that the aristocracy doesn’t choose to suffer for the sake of making an impression.

Most wear loose velvets, silks, and satin. Rich jewel tones like emerald green, sapphire blue, and ruby red can oftentimes be spotted accompanying neutral whites and creams. Most wear flowing, floor-sweeping gowns with intricate embroidery, lacework, beading, and metallic thread embroidery. Tooled leather belts cinched at the waist is quite popular, sometimes paired with flowing cloaks draped elegantly over one shoulder. Feminine attire often contains tulle underskirts while masculine fashion incorporates waistcoats with patterned silks and rich brocades, complete with pocket watches dangling from intricate chains.

The motifs of the embroidery ranges from house to house, precariously balancing between a chance at standing out while making certain to fit in with the crowd. Mosaic patterns and motifs inspired by frescoes can often be seen on skirts, coats and cloaks. Dresses sometimes feature layered, petal-like sleeves and intricately carved wooden accessories along with more valuable jewelry.

Headwear is commonly used regardless of social status. Laurel wreaths, feathers, bonnets and hats often serve as miniature works of art, ranging from practicality to whimsical fashion statements.

Ekkeran

A quiet, looming kingdom to the far north. It's not uncommon to see the northerners with weapons strapped to their belts, clad in robust furs, wool (dyed or not) and intricately stiched leather from various animals. Their clothes often contain hidden pockets created to store various objects meant to preserve warmth. Their clothing is nothing if not practical, even among the so called ‘nobility’. Survival takes precedence and precious few have time to consider beauty in the harsh environments that Ekkeran presents.

That doesn’t stop people from adding their own personal touches to the clothing or hair, however. Different types of shaved hairstyles are popular among the Ekkerans, sometimes in patterns depicting symbols that hold intimate meaning. Some people wear discreet, meaningful tokens woven into their clothing or accessories passed down through generations. It’s popular for sweethearts to exchange wooden charms that can be carried close to the recipient, unperturbed by the harsh elements.

Materials play a crucial role in daily life. Textiles, while first and foremost serving the role of protection, allow for subtle pattern variations that become a form of non-verbal communication such as knotwork or frost-patterned fabrics that convey social status, occupation, and allegiances without drawing unnecessary attention.

Personal amulets and talismans are essential to the Ekkerans. These are often worn close to the heart in order to grant protection against the foul magic that plagues their lands.

Seemingly mundane objects such as lanterns, cooking utensils etc. sometimes hold hidden, carved symbolism such as milestone events or cryptic warnings that would remain a mystery to outsiders unfamiliar to Ekkeran customs. Over time, it’s become a game of sorts to leave riddles and trying to figure out the meaning of these carved secrets.

Ciralor

As a nation that prides itself on innovation and tradition alike, Ciralor fashion often consists of contrasts; such as delicate silk embellished with brass filigree and intricate clockwork mechanisms.

Hanfu-inspired garments, sometimes with Mandarin-inspired collars, merge with bustles, corsets and obi belts cinched at the waist, adorned with steam-powered automatons and delicate gemstone-studded cogs.

In terms of accessories, wooden fans are often etched with tiny gears, worn as brooches and adorning hairstyles. Jade jewelry can be found infused with minute clockwork components that whir softly. Their shoes are sometimes curved soles reminiscent of traditional geta sandals, adorned with copper piping and steam-powered pistons.

#interactive fiction #if #unsanctioned #writing #ask #fashion #aíos #ciralor #ekkeran

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campgender · 7 months ago

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“Lady Java’s Tignons” from The Color Pynk: Black Femme Art for Survival by Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley (2022)

image text under the cut

Viewing the world through rose-tinted glasses shaped like butterfly wings, edged in rhinestones, and fringed with hanging beads, Sir Lady Java identifies herself to interviewer Pasqual Bettio in 2016: “We’re called transsexuals, basically, because I’m in a trance about my sex.” Born in New Orleans in 1940, Java—who transitioned with family support at a young age—was a mainstay of Los Angeles’s nightclub scene in the 1960s and ’70s. Billed as the “World’s Loveliest Female Impersonator,” she “appeared in shows all over the West Coast with such personalities as Nancy Wilson, Redd Foxx, Lena Horne, Louis Jordan, James Brown, Isaac Hayes, Joe Tex, Ray Charles, B.B. King, and Quincy Jones,” according to the brochure “Who Is Java?”

As she rose to prominence, she became a target for police harassment. In 1967, the LAPD raided the Redd Foxx Club to arrest her for violating Rule No. 9, an ordinance that prohibited trans women from appear- ing in public with less than three articles of male clothing. But when Java—performing in a bikini, bow tie, slim men’s wristwatch, and tiny socks—proved unarrestable, police threatened to revoke the club’s license or to imprison Foxx himself.

Java understood this police harassment as racialized: “We didn’t know of any establishment that was white that they [the LAPD] were stopping [from employing impersonators], but they were definitely targeting me, because I was queen of the Black ones and they feel that they had more trouble out of the Black ones.” Java responded by picketing the Redd Foxx Club (which dropped her act) and hiring the ACLU to mount a lawsuit against the LAPD.

Lady Java’s stage career continued brilliantly through the ’70s and ’80s, garnering positive press from Jet, Ebony, Sepia, and L.A. Advocate. Her career highlight, she tells Bettio, was performing for Lena Horne at a 1978 birthday party that Horne hosted for her “sister Cancerian, Gertrude Gibson,” where Horne enthused to Jet about her interaction with Java: “I had the feeling I was talking to a friend I had known for a long while... I feel sort of... protective [of Java]. I don’t know, because that’s my sign—Cancer—always trying to be somebody’s mama!”

To impress Ms. Horne, Java wore a spangled bikini and towering beaded headpiece whose curving contours—like many of the dramatically draped cloth, carefully sculpted tulle, and angel-wing feather wraps she crowned herself with—recall the tulip-shaped tignons (cloth turbans) made famous by her sister Louisiana Creoles. In an attempt to curb their social and sexual power, in 1786 Louisiana governor Esteban Miró decreed all women of African descent must cover their hair with knotted cloth and refrain from “excessive attention to dress.” But as Carolyn Long notes, “Instead of being considered a badge of dishonor, the tignon became a fashion statement. The bright reds, blues, and yellows of the scarves, and the imaginative wrapping techniques employed by their wearers, are said to have enhanced the beauty of women of color.” When Java turned her three articles of “male” clothing into high-femme sexiness, she followed in the footsteps of these foremothers’ fashion warfare.

Transforming the accessories meant to shame Black women into sexlessness into pure sexiness, Java declares, she chose “to wear beautiful outfits so a woman can be proud of me when she sees me. I don’t dress for men; I dress for women.”

By the 1990s Java was “enjoying a quieter life, retiring and, sadly, undergoing some serious health challenges,” according to Transas City. These challenges include a stroke from which, Java tells Bettio, “I lost a portion of my brain.” During her 2016 interviews with Bettio, her memories and historical records part ways: sometimes in small ways, as when she remembers performing for Horne at the Memory Lane supper club rather than the Pied Piper; sometimes in more significant ways, as when she proudly recalls winning her lawsuit against the LAPD.

“I went to court on it, and I won LAPD. I won the right for Java to work, meaning other impersonators could work also,” she recounts—though in fact her case was thrown out on a technicality. It would be easy to indulge the incoherence of her memories as post-stroke cognitive impairment. But it would also be easy to honor that incoherence as its own kind of freedom dream—an alternative history that translates the sinuous, undocumentable ways that change can happen.

After the publicity of her case, she reports, “They [other female impersonators] say: We’re able to go to work, and we’re all going [to] work the next day, and we’re going to put on the three male articles [of clothing], and they did the same thing I did: socks and the wristwatch and the bowtie if they wore bikinis . . . little bowties, some of them were jeweled.” Isn’t a flock of jeweled bow ties bouncing light off foremothers’ jeweled tignons another kind of win—another something to celebrate? How do we count and commemorate ways rewired and differently wired Black femme senses make a true story truer, more plentiful, more splendored?

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danthediamondminecart · 2 months ago

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RBBTOBER DAY 17-18 : ANTHROPOMORPHIC ANIMALS

Hey, werebeasts count, right? Right? I think they count, so therefore, they count.

Also, traditional art this time! Got bored of doing just digital so I decided to pull out the trusty markers. Been a hot second, every time I draw with markers I think "why don't I use these more?" and then I don't use them more.

Anyway, as usual, drabble under the cut. I'm not explaining it, I'm tired, it's been a long week.

(A camera flicks to life, opening on a pitch-dark forest. - The user, one Kreek Craft, is heavily breathing and leaning against a tree.)

(He grabs the camera and points it at himself. There’s blood splattered on his face, his eyes have turned bright yellow, and something odd is covering his cheeks. Feathers.)

[KREEK]

(Horrified)…What did I do?

[DJ]

(Appearing out of nowhere from behind the tree.) You went hunting.

(Kreek screams, whipping the camera around to face DJ. Notably, DJ’s eyes are the same yellow hue.)

(Still deadpan) Oops. Did I scare you?

[KREEK]

(Angry) What are you doing here?

[DJ]

Uh, well, I was also hunting.

(DJ opens his mouth, showing that he’s got fangs. Now that Kreek’s looking at him clearly, he can see blood under his coat.)

But you got to my prey first. Not surprised, but that was a little rude.

[KREEK]

…Was it a human?

[DJ]

Nope. No clue what it was, I leave the identification to Russo, but it was annoying him, so I was gonna deal with it.

[KREEK]

(Relieved) Good. That’s…that’s good.

[DJ]

That it was annoying Russo?

[KREEK]

No! That it wasn’t human! Only- only monsters kill humans, and I’m not a-

[DJ]

I’m gonna stop you right there.

Listen, buddy. I get it. It’s easy to draw a line between human and monster. Makes it easier to kill them that way. But look at us. I’ve got fangs I can’t get rid of, you’re growing feathers. What makes us any different from them? From people like JP, Denis, all of them? They at least look more human than we do.

[KREEK]

(Angry again) …Don’t.

[DJ]

(Unfazed) Don't give me that tone.

You’re scared of going off the deep end, aren’t you? Of turning into those things you hear about in the statements, right?

(Kreek pauses before he makes a noise of agreement.)

[KREEK]

The worst part is that I’m finding it fun.

I mean, I always have. (The terror and despair slowly seeps into Kreek's voice) Fighting monsters, being the hero. But even now, even when I’m turning into this thing- I still find it fun. The adrenaline rush, the sense of freedom, the power, I'm so hungry now and it's the only thing that fills me.

…I don’t want to become a monster.

[DJ]

Yeah, I get that. It’s addictive, you never want to stop. You just want to find the next victim.

What you need is an anchor. Someone- anyone who’s willing to stand by your side and be that one person you won’t let yourself go for.

Sabrina was that person for me. I nearly went insane without her. If you want to stay human, make sure people care about you.

Is that clear?

[KREEK]

Yeah. Yeah! (Somewhat confident now.) I think…I think I do have people who care about me. So I should be fine, right?

[DJ]

And if there’s no one, give me a call. I’ll be happy to assist.

[KREEK]

(Put out) Are you calling me friendless?

[DJ]

…Uh, moving on-

What are you still filming for?

[KREEK]

Huh? Oh, I...I’m not sure. Hang on, I’ll-

(The recording stops.)

#rb battles #yandan rambles #yandan writes #yandan draws #rbb #rbbblr #roblox battles #dj monopoli #kreekcraft #rbb tma au #rbb x tma #rbb tma au redux #oh and maaaybe blsmp update tomorrow? i hope so!

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