#also I have no attachment to the dragon designs

[nighttimepatrons]

Another dragon au? from Nightie? who would have thought???

this time featuring Nolofinwe not respecting Feanaro's personal space.

Fingon and Maedhros will be Nolo and Fea's respective riders (ofc) but one of main blocks to their relationship progressing is that their dragons Do Not get along in the slightest.

Feanaro originally hatched for Miriel and after her fading/death was successfully transferred to Maedhros. On the other Nolofinwe either hatched wild or simply refused a rider until Fingon charmed him with his persistent singing and probably doing something cool.

Not sure what will happen in this au, it just came to me while biking to and from school today.

[clansnaphance]

I'm really not vibing with whatever staff is doing now. Not only does there seem to be a total internal communication breakdown, there also seems to be an absolute disregard for how the players are affected by this.

Like, ignoring the fact that the consistency argument doesn't even hold water, their takeaway from the Fern/Paisley thread seems to have been "oh we gotta change Breakup and Hypnotic too!!"

And then completely reversing Sandsurge Blend on top of that? A gene that's been out for over half a year and was only listed as having the gradient softened, not reversed? Just a total failure to communicate and an absolute bullheadedness in pushing the changes through despite the very reasonable player concerns?

To top it all off, none of these are bug changes, they are style changes. Someone saw these genes before they went live, greenlighted them, and put them in the game. And now, months upon months later, someone else (presumably) says "fuck that, I want the gene to look like this instead" and that complete change is just... pushed through??

Like. Did they learn nothing from the Butterfly debacle, from Obelisk Flair, hell, from the Eyepocalypse?

What the fuck is going on behind the scenes?

[purpleleafsyt]

Euphrasia.. I've been needing to update my design for a while now

[headfullof-ideas]

Allllrighty, a long needed to be finished art piece that is now finished! And it isn’t even anything too fancy, it’s just the Nektons in my Httyd AU.

Will Nekton is the patriarch of this oddball family, descending from a lost culture known as Lemuria, myths and legends regailing Leviathan sized dragons from the deep ocean, and multiple devices that seemed to work through magical means with the science that went into them. Despite Will’s passion to discover the lost secrets of his forgotten culture, he’s a devoted husband and father to his wife and daughter, and an expert seaman. Will does everything he can to support his family, and protect them from the multiple threats they find themselves facing, from mysterious orders devoted to the same civilization Will is, to numerous sea-faring pirates that travel the sea looking for easy targets, and even wild dragons that aren’t prone to human kindness. Will is steadfast though, and welcoming to any that come within his families embrace, though his soft spot for children is somewhat influenced by the trauma of losing his and his wife’s second child several years ago. Will has complicated feelings about the Archipelago, due to the rumors that come from there, the Raiders his family encountered, and the fact that it’s the resting place of their lost newborn. Among the rumors from the Archipelago, there are new rumors of Dragon Riders within their seas. Will and his family haven’t actually seen any of these so called Dragon Riders themselves, and he’s unsure about whether the connected rumors that the riders are Dragon Trappers make them any better.

Kaiko Nekton is from further east than the rest of her family, born and raised in one of the outer Caldera’s that house different factions of the widespread Defender’s of the Wing. Trained as a Defender herself, Kaiko moved to a Caldera further toward what is known as the Savage, or Ignorant Archipelago, where rumors of Dragon Raids make their way to the rest of the world past a fog bank. Though she served as a dutiful Defender for some years, Kaiko eventually left to marry Will and later have their daughter Fontaine. Kaiko now works as a Dragoncologist, documenting as many dragons as possible, hoping to share the knowledge of dragon’s and the way they really work with people that may not know much about them. Kaiko has made herself a number of enemies however, the biggest being a certain Viggo Grimborn, who disrupts her work constantly to fuel his Dragon Trapping business. Kaiko tries not to dwell on the Archipelago and its rumors too much, thinking about that region of the world eventually leading to the reminder that it’s where she lost a baby. Kaiko doesn’t know what to think about Dragon Trappers riding dragons, and she’s skeptical that the trappers even are riding dragons. But with how many people are saying there are Dragon Riders out there now, she has no other reason to assume that the rumors are true.

Fontaine Nekton is the Nekton’s daughter, and only living child. Fontaine loves her life at sea, swimming amongst the dragons and with her family, but she does sometimes wish they spent more time on land so she can hang out with her friends more often. Fontaine is a huge fan of learning about other cultures, especially the kinds of music that they have. She loves going to festivals and listening to the songs of all the areas her family visits, and sometimes looks to the dragons flying into the air and wonders what it would be like to fly. The Order of the Guardians of Lemuria are frustrating, her estranged cousin even more so, especially when rumors of giant dragons hiding in the sea start to circulate her family’s inner circle and the markets they frequent. Fontaine didn’t know she had a little brother until she was about thirteen, and often watches the siblings she knows and wonders what it’d be like if they hadn’t lost him to some far off corner of the world. She’s skeptical about the rumors coming from the Traders that venture into the Archipelago, about Dragon Raids every night for the last three hundred years. And she’s unsure about the rumors circulating of Dragon Riders, especially when she hears rumors about two different groups; one composed of Dragon Trappers and one composed of kids her own age.

The Nektons are still a sea faring family, though instead of a submarine, they travel on a slightly larger than usual ship, still known as the Aronnax. And because they’re the Nektons, I gave them wetsuits, though they look a bit different than they do in the show. While Ant and the Dragon Riders are dealing with all of their stuff, the Nektons are dealing with some of the early stuff that happens in the show behind the scenes. Some of the show will be kept for its own season in RTTE, but some stuff Ant isn’t there for. The introduction of the Guardians, the Pirates, Alpheus, and the Monumentials for example. I drew a comic about it already, but Ant ends up arriving about three to four years late or so to his own show, and has to speed run all the lore to catch up with everyone else before continuing.

Anyways, some closeups, because I like to do them. Tap the pictures for better quality, and also have a closeup of the writing I added, as the words are kind of small

[recallback-art]

Free-hand designed a new OC boy, because I've been wanting to make a WHA Brimhat OC since like forever. Love those guys, needed a funny hat guy.

I don't know shit or fuck about his mentor yet, but that's an issue for another day for now I have this little snake bastard baby boy. He's 16 he doesn't have a name because he doesn't know who he is and he's gonna set fire to your pants.

[hongluboobs]

been thinking abt an angela beastie design that’s got a falin dunmeshi esque body plan but raven and moth esque however i have been Unable to make the design work so far 💔

[animasola86]

🐺 A FILLING EXPERIENCE

knotting!dildo x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 9.8k

You were a little drunk and very horny when you browsed the website looking for a new sex toy. When your order arrives, however, you feel like you did something very wrong. Or did you? Maybe it'll grow on you? (Not sure that's a good thing, though.) Prepare for a wild ride.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Sex toys! Possessed sex toys. Masturbation. Knotting. Referenced werewolves. Referenced A/B/O dynamics. Possession. Vaginal sex. Breeding. Memory loss. (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "knotting, masturbation, sex toys". The pairing is what it is. For a reference picture of the star of the show (aka the dildo) check it on AO3! (Also, very surprisingly, but this is not an ad for Bad Dragon, I swear.)

You spend a whole minute staring at the item you just pulled out of the unassuming box. The sheer size of it both makes your head spin and mouth very, very dry (at the same time, you feel a growing wetness somewhere much lower). Wow. Just wow. What is that thing? You're absolutely sure you ordered it in a different size, the smallest to be exact, so this can't be right.

Licking your lips, you blink, focusing back on the packaging. There isn't anything on the box, but you find a little sheet of paper next to the satin bag it came with. The dimensions listed make you frown. Putting the hefty item back on your desk, you fumble for the ruler you keep in one of the drawers. Then you start measuring the damn thing.

It's almost nine inches long, if you dismiss the large base that holds it steady to any surface. The head is the smallest part, two inches wide and tapered, the shaft flares out then, you measure two and a half inches in width, sloping into a soft curve lined with ridges and little nubs, before the main attraction protrudes in a rather menacing way: the knot, two bulbous bumps, and they even added thick veins to the design. Your hand is shaking when you put the ruler next to it. Three point five six inches wide.

That's a lot. Way too much. This will never fit inside you. Ever.

And still you are intrigued. Of course you are, you ordered that dildo for a reason, even if it came in the wrong size. (You could return it, you know that, but it's been a thrill to order it in the first place, so sending it back seems like too much of a hassle.) But just seeing it now, sitting heavy on your desk, with your small hand resting beside it, with its intricate and strangely realistic textures, it looks too intimidating.

You've read these werewolf stories where some fair maiden stumbles through the forest and ends up getting relentlessly knotted by the monster (or the more modern versions of some alpha male knotting his omega mate to help them through their heat, which always fascinated you a little more because it seemed not as fantastical). The idea to have something big inside you, filling you, stretching you out, and then something even bigger holding you in place, making it impossible to move, gives you chills, in the good way.

You may have been a little drunk and very horny when you ordered this fantasy dildo, but seeing it now, in the “flesh”, makes you very anxious. This was a stupid purchase. It won't be the same anyway. It's just the disembodied dick of a creature that doesn't exist in the first place. You'll be stuffed, sure, but you'll miss the warmth and the strength of whoever this would be attached to.

You sigh. Well, nothing you can do about it. You neither have a boyfriend to test this out with nor do you possess any magical abilities to make that fantasy come true, and as of right now, you don't see yourself using the damn thing anyway. It's too large (your other dildos look downright puny in comparison), and you are too small.

Despite it all, it is mesmerizing you. You chose a deep midnight blue as the color, that blends from a lighter blue at the tip into an almost black at the base, which makes it look slightly slimmer than it is. Slowly you move your hand up and close it around the curved shaft, well, you try, your fingers are too short to reach all the way around. You still slide your palm along the ridges and bumps, feeling the firm smooth silicone. It gives way in some places, you can bend it just a little bit, but when your hand reaches the knot, those bulbs feel almost a little too rigid.

You squeeze them, watching your knuckles blanching, knowing you will never have the same grip with your pussy. Warmth rushes into your cheeks at the thought. Biting your lip, you keep stroking the strange toy, getting a feel for it, trying to imagine how it would fit inside you. With how hefty the base is, you would have to put it on the ground and lower yourself onto it, which sounds like a workout you're not so sure you'd like.

But maybe the base comes off and you can use it like a regular dildo, snuggled into bed, hidden under your blanket? You lift the thing up and try to twist the base, but nothing happens. Hmm. At least it's sturdy. You find a little hole at the bottom, and you remember you ordered it with a... what did they call it, cumtube? Sounds weird, but it's just a long tube you can fill with cum-like lube that shoots out at some point? You're not too clear on the workings of that. But the idea to be filled by something warm and sticky makes your stomach tense up in anticipation.

Shifting on your chair, you inhale sharply and pull your hand away from the dark blue item. Well, this is not going to happen, not now. Maybe never. The idea is nice, but you don't see it being too pleasurable in reality. So you pack it up into its unassuming black satin bag along with the bottle of lube and the long tube it came with, and store it in the lowest drawer of your desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

Or so you hope.

When you go to bed that night, you see the large dildo in your mind's eye, and you recall these smutty stories, you imagine the grunts of the werewolf as he fucks the poor woman beneath him, rutting into her like the feral creature he is. And how she screams when he bottoms out, pressing all those inches into her, forcing his knot to stretch her entrance, how her pussy lips grip around it and pull it further inside. You have your hand between your legs as you try to imagine what it must feel like to be this full, to be bred and filled, with nowhere to go, stuck on those bulging bulbs.

A moan escapes you as your body shudders. You could try it. You have the hardware. It's right there. You just have to get up and get it... But you're too cozy in bed, under your warm blanket, with your fingers rubbing hard circles around your clit. You end up coming to the idea of it, and that's enough for you. Content with your heart racing, you exhale loudly, wiping your wet fingers on your thigh before you snuggle into the bedding and close your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Maybe not as dreamless as you've hoped. You wake up the next morning with a dry throat and sticky thighs, your mind swimming with images of cocks plunging into squelching holes, of being held down and ravaged, and you shudder at the memory. Blinking your eyes into focus, you sit up – and freeze.

There, on top of your desk, sits the large dark blue dildo, shining in the sunlight filtering through your window. No way. You've put it into the drawer, into its bag, far away, and even though you thought about using it last night, you didn't. And even if, you wouldn't put it back on the desk like that, right? But it's there, almost mocking you. Slowly you stand up and walk towards your desk, reaching out a hand to touch the smooth surface.

It's sticky, almost warm to the touch. What the hell? But you haven't used it, you're sure, you'd certainly remember it, wouldn't you? Shaking your head, you dismiss it for the moment and start your morning routine as if nothing happened.

Before you leave for the day, you grab the dildo and the toy cleaner you keep in your bedside table and give it a good scrub. Then you hide it away again, shutting the drawer with a firm thud. You are tempted to put a lock on it, but that's just silly.

Later that evening, you sit in bed and scroll through the stories on your phone, mindlessly skimming through your preferred genres. Somehow you end up on another knotting story. What are the odds. This one is set in the omegaverse, depicting an alpha bodyguard taking care of the omega girl in his care... by knotting her senseless. Just your kind of story. You end up with your fingers in your cunt, rubbing and poking desperately as you read.

You're close, your thighs twitching with every brush against your sensitive clit, stomach tense, feet curling into the sheets as you pump your hips. Your breaths are frantic, heart thundering inside your chest. Soundless, strangled gasps escape you (you're always mindful of your noises, these walls are thin and you don't want to alarm or entertain your neighbors) and you squirm and writhe, your phone falling out of your hand when you have to clutch at the edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” you croak out quietly while you roll onto your side and press your thighs together, trapping your hand, fingers stilling inside your clenching pussy as your body convulses under the mind-numbing throes of your orgasm.

You lie there for a moment, taking deep gulps of air into your burning lungs, slowly calming down again. Through the dark room you look towards your desk. And you can see it, your new toy, hidden away, waiting, and before you know it, you stumble off the bed and rip the drawer open and the large dildo out of its bag. You don't even care about the lube at this point.

With your back pressed into the bed, you rub the tapered tip between your wet folds, gathering your slick. You need both hands to guide the big thing back and forth, it's quite heavy. With your heart racing and your stomach fluttering, you angle your hips, feet pressed into the bed, and then you push. The head parts your lips and sinks into your entrance, and it's already a stretch that makes you inhale sharply.

But you keep going, your arms shaking under the exertion of forcing the toy deeper. You feel its protruding ridges and nubs rubbing against your soft walls as you start moving it in and out slowly. There's still so much of it in your hands, but the curve of the thing already presses between your tight muscles. You turn it slightly, figuring out which way feels best, and in doing so drill it even further.

You stop before your pussy lips brush against the bulbous knot, and you hold it tightly when you let the thing just rest inside you for a moment, feeling its girth and length and weight, its textures and shape. Clenching around the toy, you try to relax on the bed, grinding your hips slowly against your hands. It feels amazing, those ridges and nubs seem to hit all the right spots. Little moans slip from your parted lips, mouth hanging open as you squeeze your eyes shut.

The base is heavy between your fingers, and you feel them cramping slightly as you continue to move the large dildo in and out, considering using it like it's intended to be used: standing upright on the ground as you impale yourself on it. But it's a daunting thought, and your legs are already shaking badly. You doubt you have enough strength left to do squats on it now.

So you keep pumping half of it into your tight cunt, both hands closed around the hefty base, hips meeting your thrusts, the wet squelching sounds echoing through your room, adding to the growing arousal inside you. Your wrists hurt under the strain, but you're desperate now, hectic whines escaping you as you double your efforts, pushing and pulling, ramming that damn thing into you as fast as you can.

Arching your back and lifting your hips off the bed, you lean into the impending release, so close, a few more nudges, come on – when a sudden cold breeze over your sweaty face alerts you to something you cannot stop. It's as if an unseen force pushes the dildo with you, stronger than your own hands, an assist you didn't ask for.

But you're too far gone, gasping with your mouth wide open, head pressed into your pillow, thighs twitching, the tension ready to explode, and then it does, and at the same time as your orgasm crashes over you, a strange jerk goes through your body, and your usually voiceless cry becomes a real one, an almost scream as you feel your clenching cunt being stretched. Your hands fall away from the toy in an attempt to let it pop out and relish in the empty feeling as your contractions shake your body, but there's no empty feeling, because you're not empty.

You're stuffed. Somehow the knot has made it into your tight channel and your pussy lips grip the shaft beneath it, and as much as you push and clench, it doesn't budge. Cold panic rips you from your post-orgasmic bliss. Your hands claw at the base sticking out of you as you gyrate your hips, feeling every ridge and nub and bump pressing hard into your fluttering walls, but the toy is lodged within you. How did that happen?

Breathing harder, both from the exertion and the anxiety of having a sex toy stuck in your cunt, you wail quietly, rolling onto your side, lifting your leg, pulling on the damn thing. No chance. It's in there now. Knot and all, and the more you squirm, the more you feel the tapered tip pressing into depths nothing has ever pressed into before. It's a strange pain, sharp and piercing, a jolt of electricity with every movement of your body.

You lie on your back now, legs still angled, thighs twitching, trying to calm yourself down. You need to relax your muscles to get it out, you know that, but it's hard, as hard as the toy inside you. And somehow you feel it... expanding? No, that must be your imagination. It's not one of those inflatable things, you made sure of that. But the stretch is there, and it hurts.

Your hands are back between your legs, gripping the hefty base, but in your attempt to rip it out somehow, you suddenly feel it loosening and with another surprised/pained gasp, you realize you're holding the base of the toy – but without the toy.

“No!” you wail louder, staring at the dark piece of silicone between your fingers. It came right off, not as sturdy as initially suspected after all. You throw it aside and finger at the now-base of the fake shaft. It's barely sticking out now, your cunt eager to swallow it whole it seems. Whining in panic, you try to hook a finger between your tightly stretched skin and the dildo, but there's no way you can grip it like this.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as your anxiety grows. Chill. Calm down, it'll pop out on its own, they always do, don't worry, you try to soothe yourself. Not the first time you accidentally pushed a toy in too deep, but those were smooth ones, half as long and half as thick, with no ridges or knots, of course they'd slip out again. But this thing? It's a fucking knot, designed, by nature, to keep itself lodged inside any unsuspecting hole.

You think back to those stories you read about the topic. Those were fictional though, and every author handled it slightly differently. In some of them, the knot would just deflate when the man (or werewolf) was done dumping his potent load into his victim or mate, in others it stayed bulbous and inflated for a long time, locking the two people together, which, in a way, is a romantic thing and something you'd like to experience once in your life as well, but there's nobody attached to the dildo in your cunt, no one to hold you, to calm you, to rub your back and ease you through the pain of stretching and being filled.

The thought makes you sad, and in your frustration you buck your hips, only to gasp when the motion causes the toy to rub against these very sensitive spots that make your toes curl. You move your pelvis again, ripping a quiet moan from your throat, and then you fall into a slow rhythm of undulating into the bed, one hand back on your mound, feeling the tight fit of the toy before you start rubbing your swollen clit gently.

Before you know it, you work yourself to yet another orgasm, and the dildo seems to work with you. You even nudge its base a little, pushing it deeper, right against that sweet spot in the far back, and you groan at the sensation of pleasure/pain as you thrash your head into the pillow. Rolling onto your side, you keep grinding against the heavy thing inside you, panting under the exertion, your body curled up tightly, just like the coil in your tense stomach.

You're teetering on the edge, head empty except for that delicious cotton that makes you forget everything. It feels so good. The stretch, the pressure, the snug fit, those ridges and nubs and those seemingly pulsing bulbs pressing right against your g-spot. Mewls and wails fall from your trembling lips, and in your haze, you end up on your stomach where you lift your hips up and start humping your mattress feverishly.

The additional stimulation to your clit makes you cry out loudly, and you can only muffle your noises by pressing your face into the pillow. Your hard nipples rub against the fabric of your shirt with every gyrating motion with how you scrape your chest over the bed, and it doesn't take long before you stumble right over the edge, your muscles clenching hard around the toy, squeezing with all they have, as a million bright lights explode around you.

You're too far gone to think at that point, but if you would have been able to, you'd wonder why the toy doesn't come shooting out of your convulsing channel like most other toys would. It's not just the knot holding it in place, there's a strange force keeping your hips up and the dildo inside you. But you notice none of it, not the stiff position of your body as you tremble and quake, hands clawing at the sheets, knuckles white, fingers hurting, you just keep riding the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

You do, however, feel a familiar warmth gathering deep inside you, and you assume it's your own release waiting to gush past the item if it weren't for the knot plugging you up like a cork. Though it feels a little different, not something your body produced due to high stimulation, but something being added...

You groan deeply when your body makes a forward jerk as you feel the toy moving within you. Which shouldn't be possible. It's almost as if it's pulsing, throbbing, twitching, and with those motions something hot pushes into you, filling you up, seeping into every nook and cranny left by the large toy invading your already tight space. You shudder deeply, wondering in your fucked-out state what's going on, before you feel a strange stretch, a pressure building up inside you, and then, like an airlock being lifted, a strange squelching sound appears and you feel something hot and sticky trickling down your leg.

Remaining in your bent-over position, you move a hand between your legs and feel for whatever is leaking out of you. It's thick, thicker than your own juices, and much stickier. You bring it to your eyes, and whatever liquid it is, it pulls into thin strands as you part your fingers. Feels like cum. You blink at the sight and feel of it, and in your stupor, you roll onto your side, feeling more of it gathering between your legs.

When you're on your back again, you lift your hips, your sticky hand rubbing over your bare stomach, trying to ignore how tense and full it feels, down to your mound, teasing at the stretched opening. You feel the silicone against your fingertips, and it's no longer an intruder you want to get out immediately, it's become a strangely comforting feeling, despite the out of nowhere appearing cum-like substance. Maybe you filled it up before you used it? You can't remember, honestly. Does it matter? Not really.

You enjoy the feeling of fullness, the stretch and pressure, how with every slight movement the toy's ridges dig into your soft walls. The curve of it fits perfectly inside you, and the bulbous knot makes it sit so snug, as if it was made specifically for your cunt. You almost laugh at your initial apprehension and how you thought that huge thing would never fit into your tiny body, but look at you now, stuffed and happy.

With one hand on your mound, now eager to keep the toy in, as you rub your swollen labia gently, you roll onto your side and snuggle into your bed, your other hand pulling the sheets over your sweat-slick, sticky body. You don't care about washing up, you just want to sleep, softly riding out the blissful tremors of what this amazing toy has made you feel.

Closing your eyes, you imagine lying next to your alpha mate, or even a fluffy werewolf, as he holds you tightly pressed to his warm body, cock stuck inside your clenching cunt, knotting you to your (and his) heart's content.

But despite feeling exhausted, you can't stop grinding your hips against your hand, breathing harder when the warmth and tension builds up all over again as the dildo presses into all the right places. Soft moans slip from your dry lips, a shudder crashing through you at the feel of the tight knot stretching your sensitive skin. That last orgasm before you actually fall asleep is a mild one, a soothing thing washing over you, a warm embrace from something that isn't there.

You wake up with a sigh, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to start the new day. There is a strange soreness between your legs, as well as a very sticky sensation on your skin, but you don't care much for it – before you sit up and yelp when a sudden pain crashes through you. You stand up so fast your head is spinning, and as you press a hand to your mound, you can feel that the dildo is still lodged snugly inside you.

Yet you don't even have time to panic as the room grows dark all of a sudden. Then it all happens very fast. Somehow you are being turned and bent over the foot of the bed, chest pressed into the mattress by a force you can't explain. Your hands grip for the sheets as you struggle against whatever is holding you down. Are you still dreaming? You can't be sure. It feels too real.

And the pain when something pulls at the dildo in your cunt, when the knot stretches your pussy lips as it forces its way past them, is very, very real and makes you wail into the bedding. After the first stretch, the rest of the toy slips out easily, and with it comes a flood of something warm and sticky, spraying against your inner thighs, dripping down your legs, pooling around your bare feet on the floor. You gasp at the sudden emptiness.

All that wasted seed, you think as if someone has planted the thought into your head. Better put in a new load. Before you can properly wonder about where those words came from, you feel something nudging against your stretched entrance. You stand on shaking legs, ass in the air, torso pushed down into the bed, and you struggle, or try to, but you can't move. It's as if you're frozen in time and place, held down by an invisible force.

It's too dark to see anything, not that you could anyway with how your face is buried in the sheets. All you can do is take it, and even that you're not sure you can. It feels like something is standing behind you, something cold that lets goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin, and at the same time there's something very hot sinking into your fluttering cunt. You know it's the silicone toy warmed by your own body, but it feels different somehow. It feels... real.

You grunt with every sharp stab it gives you, parting your folds, plunging deep, but not as deep, teasing you with those ridges and nubs that scrape over your gummy walls, and the swell of that knot nudges against your entrance, never breaching it. Not yet anyway. The pace is brutal, a feral rutting, pistoning in and out fast and hard, and you can barely contain your noises anymore. They're muffled but still loud in your ears. Maybe because they're the only thing you hear, aside from the wet squelching of your cunt.

Whatever is pushing that dildo into you, whatever took over for you, doesn't make a sound, but you can feel it, you know it's there, holding you down and restrained. Whatever it is.

As sure as you are about the invisible force fucking you on your own bed, you are about the impending orgasm creeping closer with every hard thrust. The constant in and out of the rigid toy makes your head spin, your stomach tense, your thighs tremble. You're moaning and mewling, desperate for release as the warmth gathers in your core, ready to burst free. You even manage to press your hips back and meet the motions of the toy pounding into you.

And then you come, wailing loudly, barely restrained, lights exploding behind your eyelids as your body shudders and convulses, and you feel something wet splattering on the wooden floor, adding to the mess pooling around your feet. You've never squirted before, but you just know that's what happened, if you could analyze the moment, which you can't because your head is deliciously empty as you let bliss take over your thinking apparatus.

You barely register how the toy keeps plunging into your wet cunt, those squelching noises obscene if you would care about them, and as you still float on that amazing high, you feel its thrusts getting slower, slightly deeper, more deliberate, those bulging bulbs nudging firmer against your pussy lips, and suddenly the pressure grows stronger, making you gasp and your legs shake badly, and you fight it, stiffen, muscles tensing up, making it all the worse, but whatever controls the large dildo doesn't care as it pushes it further into your protesting cunt.

You let out a deep groan when it finally breaches the tight squeeze, stretching your sensitive skin, slipping into you, and that motion, the getting swallowed by your own body, turns your wails of distress into cries of pure pleasure as you come again around the invading object, your walls fluttering around the knot. You almost lose your footing, but the force that's penetrating you is still holding you up, no matter how badly your body spasms against the bed.

The dildo is back inside of you, all of it, from the tapered tip that teases at your cervix to the swollen protrusions to the bit of shaft after that. Your cunt clenches around all of it, holding it in place, hugging it to its contracting walls, letting it rub against all those special spots. And you keep shaking, so sensitive by now the slightest motion causes you to gasp and shudder. You'd be content like this, having it inside you, just resting, as heavy and large as it is, but whatever decided to take over, doesn't see it that way.

While you couldn't possibly push the thing deeper the last time it was wedged into you, you now feel it moving, nudging further, the hard tip pressing into your depths, stretching you in a way you've never been stretched before. It hurts, but it also feels good. And it's good that you think so, as you don't have a choice in the matter anyway.

The toy is pushed and pulled in slow fluid motions, and you feel the knot pressing hard against your entrance, stretching but never leaving your cunt. That doesn't stop the force behind you, though. The shallow thrusts continue until they turn into a desperate rutting, quick short stabs that make you howl as they bully both your deepest spot and the tight muscles of your hole. It's painful in the best way possible, and you feel your legs trembling, your stomach tensing, that warmth filling you up before it all explodes, catapulting you over the edge all over again.

You scream as you come, luckily muffled by how your face is still pressed into the bedding, but the sensation isn't any less extreme. Your orgasm crashes over you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced, not that you have seen any of those before, but it sure feels like it hits you straight in the chest and drags you along, throwing you around, unrelenting, merciless, as you're being pushed and pulled and gasping for air.

Your walls clench hard around the still pistoning intruder, the curve, the ridges, the nubs, that fucking knot, all playing vital roles in keeping you afloat (or drowning), prolonging the gloriously mind-blowing experience. You feel dizzy, your heart thundering in your chest, lungs burning, body arching and spasming, as you are being hurdled from one orgasm to the next, or so it feels, and it never ends, not even when the toy suddenly stills, pushed as deep as possible, and then it throbs.

Even though you're barely able to feel anything anymore, you can feel its vibrations, the thrum from deep within it, and it shouldn't do that, it's not a vibrating toy, you tell yourself, it's also not an inflating one, but it still seems to swell, or the knot is, and it's pulsing against your tense muscles, stretching them, working inside you, and then... it unloads.

The warmth it fills you with is scorching, so filling you feel it bulging your stomach, which shouldn't be possible, and you may even taste it on your tongue as you gulp for air. It's all around you, but mostly inside you, and there it stays because the knot keeps it from spilling out. You are plugged shut, and it keeps pumping, giving you more, and it feels both oddly comforting and terrifyingly too much. You feel like bursting, so full, way too full, but all you can do is groan quietly.

With your mind still reeling, you are suddenly moved, lifted up by invisible hands (or paws?), cradled against something strangely warm as you're being put onto your side on the bed, your stomach fluttering and bulging, tensing badly under the onslaught of whatever liquid is pumped into your depths. The knotting dildo remains deep inside you, stuck and locked in, and you become drowsy, exhausted from whatever just happened. The darkness is still all around you, but you feel warm and content and taken good care of.

A smile grazes your dry lips as you imagine lying in the embrace of a mate, a lover, holding you after the strenuous ordeal of being knotted and bred, as their cock keeps pumping cum into you, as you remain tied together. And it feels so real...

Your eyes flutter close, and you inhale deeply, shifting slightly with your precious cargo inside you. As you drift into unconsciousness, the room grows brighter again, letting in the warm sunlight of a day already reaching its halfway point. Of course, you notice none of that, gone as you are.

When you stir awake, the darkness is back, this one real, lying like a heavy blanket all around you, while you lie on your side, shivering because you seemed to have kicked off your own blanket. Once you come to fully, you feel a little strange. Your mind is fuzzy, laden with images that couldn't have happened. Did you dream all that? Surely. It would be too weird if not.

But then why do you feel full when at the same time you are blatantly empty? Rolling onto your back, you grind your hips, assessing if you were indeed knotted and bred, but there's nothing. Your stomach rumbles, and when you touch it, it's normal, not bulged and tense but soft, and that's probably where the emptiness comes from. You're hungry, but that hunger also feels like an air pocket inside you, too big to ignore, giving you the feeling of being full? It's a strange sensation, to say the least.

And then there's another kind of emptiness. The one sitting invisibly in your aching little cunt disguised as nothingness. The toy is gone. You recall vividly how deep it's been in you, how stuck and immobile and heavy it sat between your clenching walls, but now they are fluttering around nothing. Where did it go?

You sit up, rubbing your naked arms, realizing you are indeed completely naked. Strange, didn't you go to bed with your sleep shirt? And why is it dark? It's been morning before, what happened to the rest of the day? You lean over to the lamp on your bedside table and the dark room is suddenly bathed in a warm yellow light, causing your eyes to wander straight towards your desk.

And there it is, sitting on its hefty base, the dark blue knotting dildo, in all its glory, with its curve, those ridges and nubs, and the formidable two bulbs making up the knot of the thing. You blink at the sight, confusion washing over you like a cold shiver. Slowly you stand up, groaning as you do, feeling your limbs shaking. Why are you so weak? Rubbing your stomach, you take a few steps before you almost slip on the floor.

Something wet coats the soles of your feet, and when you look down there's a big puddle of something shiny all over the wooden boards. Some of it is clear, but there's also a white shimmer to it, and you feel your heart accelerating as you remember how that came to be (even if the memory is faint, but seeing the evidence makes it all the more real and that frighteningly so). The feeling of being filled to the brim and leaking with the rest of it, the sensation of coming so hard you squirted all over the floor, while a strange force pounded your new toy into your willing body. Has it really happened? Apparently. But how is that possible?

Your heart beats faster as you keep walking until you reach the large dildo, standing proud and tall and girthy. You reach out with a shaking hand, carefully sliding your fingers over the textured shaft, tracing the thick veins on it. It feels warm and sticky, and it makes your blood run cold. It feels real, and it shouldn't. You know that. You're not crazy.

But there are too many things you just can't explain. How did it get back on the desk, back on the base you seemingly broke off last time? How was it possible that the toy fucked you on its own, in that bent-over position, and why weren't you able to move as it happened?

You feel chills all over your naked body. In that moment your rational mind just gives up. Normally you don't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but how else could you explain any of this? Is the toy haunted? Possessed?

It's a silicone thing, man-made, fabricated to cater to certain people's needs, a fantasy product, but it feels real, it pumped seemingly real cum into you (or so you think, it could still have been loaded with that artificial stuff without your knowledge and by squeezing it too hard you made it come out?), it fucked you as if attached to the real deal (whatever the real deal was).

Staring at the item, you lick your lips, eyes scanning every inch of its ridged surface. As creepy as this whole situation is, you still can't deny how good it felt also. How full and happy you were, how many times you came as it rammed into you, how those little nubs felt against your tense walls. They clench just remembering it. And somehow, from the darkest corner of your mind, comes the need to put it back in, feel it again, let the knot lock you up...

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you force yourself to look away from its tantalizing appeal. No. You can't. It'll all happen again, a mind-blowing fuckfest, and you'll waste another day in bed or wherever this thing wants to fuck you, or you it, it's still unclear how that happened, and maybe it was just your extremely horny mind who made up the idea of it being controlled by somebody else, maybe it has been you all along, driven crazy by sheer lust as you rammed that knot into your own cunt.

Shaking your head to clear it, you step away and into the bathroom. You spend a long time in there, inspecting and washing and handling your sore body, and when you emerge again, wrapped in a towel with your wet hair falling over your shoulders, the toy is still sitting on your desk. You watch it, but don't approach it. Instead you leave the room and venture into the kitchen to satiate the human need of eating, and after you sat at the counter and shoveled a bowl of cereal into your achingly empty stomach, you return to your bedroom.

The sight of that thing haunts you. You feel antsy just looking at it. In the end, you pick it up and put it down on the wooden desk chair, something you feel like doing, as if something put that thought into your head, a not too unfamiliar sensation. Then you pull the chair back, drop your towel and move to sit down on it. Again, you're barely thinking about it, it's like a need, an urge, a thing that feels right.

So you squat down on the toy, feeling the tapered tip pressing between your folds, and as soon as it breaches your entrance, pushing against your sore muscles, you gasp, hands curled around the edge of the desk to ground yourself as you let gravity do the rest. Or most of it. You feel the curve sinking into your tight depths, carving a way into your gummy walls, but when the knot presses against your pussy lips, you pause, breathing harder.

It feels too big, but you know it can fit inside you, it's happened before. Inhaling deeply, you try to relax, gyrating your hips to ease it into you, but your hole's too tight, unwilling to part further. You're in that weird half-squat, hovering over the chair, arms propped on the desk in front of you, and instead of giving up, you start moving up and down, fucking yourself slowly on the curved shaft, feeling those ridges and nubs and the tip poking at those delicious spots.

You're panting from the exertion, thighs burning under the strain, but you keep going even when sweat drops down your brows. You feel as if your muscles are opening up, and before your legs give in, you slam your hips down. A shrill shriek escapes you as you feel the knot stretching you open, your sensitive skin and muscles giving way, allowing it inside before they close back around it, swallowing it and the whole thing inside of you. You moan when you feel it filling you out.

Sinking a few inches further, you feel your rear pressing against the base of the toy before you sit down fully, ass cheeks on the chair, the entirety of the dildo wedged between your tight walls. A trembling exhale escapes you as you try to relax on it, your arms shaking before you bring your hands to your lap, your chest rising and falling faster, your stomach fluttering. For a few minutes you just sit there, trying to calm your frantic breaths and your rapid heartbeat, adjusting to the filling sensation.

And then, as if you haven't just impaled yourself on a knotting dildo, you reach a hand out, turn the lamp on your desk on and pull the laptop closer that you keep at the edge of it. You've missed an entire day it seems, so you're hellbent on making up for it. As your fingers fly over the keyboard, you occasionally grind your hips into the chair, relishing in the sudden jolts of pleasure/pain as the toy nudges your insides.

You sit there and work until you've edged yourself so badly, you can barely think anymore. Leaning back in your chair with your hands flat on your desk, you inhale sharply, tilting your head back as you undulate against the toy wedged between your thighs. You're so sensitive, every single motion causes you to shiver deeply. Even the hefty base of the toy rubs delightfully against your mound, adding pressure where you didn't know you needed it. A moan escapes you, and you move your hands to your rear and pull your cheeks apart until you can grind against it better.

It feels so good. To be stuffed, to be teased like this, to feel all those little details on that firm silicone shaft. You want to congratulate whoever came up with this design. It's perfect.

In an attempt to feel more of it, you lift yourself up slightly, really wanting to ride that thing now, but of course the knot prevents you from doing so, plugging you up tightly. You can still nudge the curved dildo a little deeper, so you end up humping your chair with small shallow snaps of your hips, your thighs trembling after only a few minutes, your panting breaths loud in the quiet room.

With a little whine you stand up properly, but instead of forcing the toy out from between your clenching walls, you lift up the entire thing, base and all, as it's firmly stuck inside of you. Its weight is heavy between your legs, but you still manage to stumble towards the bed with it where you throw yourself onto your back, spread your legs, lift your hips and start pushing your hands against the base, working yourself up even more.

Once your wrists cramp up under the strain, you focus on stimulating your clit, and the first touch has you already writhing on the bed. Gasping quietly, you buck your hips against your own fingers as you keep rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves until your thighs spasm wildly. You feel the tension building, the warmth gathering inside you, and then you come with a soundless half-scream, mouth wide open, legs clamping shut around your hands as you ride out the waves of pleasure, the toy practically vibrating inside you with how your walls are fluttering around it.

Your limbs go limp then, hands falling away, legs falling open, as you try to catch your breath. Eyes closed, a stupid smile on your lips, you lie there like a stranded beetle, stomach convulsing, chest heaving. You don't notice how the darkness creeps back in, dimming out the warm light of the desk and bedside table lamp. You don't feel the cold wafting in the air around you, but you do feel the dildo moving, tiny movements, little nudges against your tight muscles until it pops out with an obscenely wet squelching sound, coaxing a deep sigh out of you.

You feel utterly relieved and satisfied and content, ready to fall asleep like that, with your legs wide open, presented on the bed like a strange little offering, and whatever lurks in the shadows around you, seems to take the bait.

It feels like your bed is moving, the mattress denting on either side of your hips, and then you're being lifted a little, and it's cold and warm at the same time as your legs are pushed up and against your chest, and as if you want this to happen, your hands move to grab your thighs, holding your legs like this. In this position you are wide open, a cool breeze on your swollen clit, your cunt clenching around nothing – but not for long.

The tapered tip pushes between your folds, eagerly sinking into your slightly stretched hole, scraping along your soft walls. The curved shaft follows, digging into you, its nubs and ridges rubbing against those sensitive spots that make you mewl softly. You are in a trance, held by lust even as exhaustion wants to pull you under. You don't question anything at this point, you just savor the sensations.

And you feel everything. The shaft moves then, in and out, shallow little stabs, carving its way deeper until you feel the bulbous knot pressing against your entrance. But it doesn't go in yet, it keeps slamming against your puffy lips, the wet squelching sounds a telltale sign of how aroused you still are. There's a strange weight to the thrusts, as if there would be more than just the toy being pushed into you, it feels as if it was attached to something much bigger, a presence you can't see (not even if you would open your eyes), but can sense in a way that feeds your longing.

The pounding continues, and that warmth builds up again, all around the thick shaft that moves between your tight walls with ease and power, in and out, fast and hard, and in an angle that makes you wail, bullying all the right spots until you can't hold it in you anymore. You come with a croaked cry as your body tenses up before it explodes into nothing but bliss, tiny lights dancing behind your eyelids, that soft warmth turning into a burning that devours all of you at once.

Through your orgasm the fake cock (or so you think) keeps pumping into you, those wet squelches are obscenely loud, and you moan and whine, hips bucking to meet the thrusts as your fingers dig into your own thighs, holding your legs squished against your breasts, your feet jumping above your head with every plunge.

And then it happens, your fluttering cunt gives way to the knot, but instead of plugging you up, it pops out, then plunges into you once more, and out again and in again, and you wail under the stretch and strange sensation of being stretched repeatedly. There's pain, but there's also blinding pleasure whenever it forces itself into you, and you keep coming from that motion alone, gasping and writhing, barely able to breathe or think or do anything but let it happen.

Now the whole length of the thing pushes into you, as deep as it'll go, bullying your cervix with its tapered tip, knot fully swallowed by your walls, then it's pulled back almost entirely before doing it all over again, driving you to the edge and over it and back and over in rapid succession. It's all a blur, but it feels so good, you could die on the spot just feeling it breaching your tight space over and over again.

Luckily, you don't die, you are just pushed from orgasm to orgasm, until every single nerve ending is buzzing and tingling, and you come to the point where you don't want to come any more. Not that the thing fucking you seems to mind that very much. It keeps going, in and out, your cunt giving off a lewd wet popping sound every time the knot is forced out and another wet slurping sound every time it's pushed in and swallowed by your walls. Along with your breathless whines and the squeaking of the bed, it's a cacophony of sounds driving you to the edge of sanity, and pleasure, and pain, and all of the above.

You feel yourself fading, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but just as you think you'll drift off now, the thing in your cunt plunges particularly deep, a final thrust full of power and strength, a heavy weight pressing you down as it prods painfully against your already battered cervix. You cry out, your body too confused, so it makes you convulse all over again as another orgasm crashes through you. The curved shaft stills inside you, ridges and nubs and its knot settling against your fluttering walls, and you feel as if it's throbbing and twitching, and the bulbs seem to grow, stretching you further, really plugging you up now.

A groan slips from your dry lips as it starts pumping something warm and filling into your cramped depths. Spurt after spurt, more and more, until you can feel your stomach bulging, tensing under the growing load, and your head is spinning as your body comes down from that strenuous but still utterly pleasurable experience. You feel a little drunk almost, dizzy and disorientated, wondering why you are still holding your legs up. But you stay like this, submitting to whatever leans over you, holding you down with their cock.

The last bit of your rational mind tells you you're just dreaming. Of course you are. And what a nice dream it is, hm? But then your eyes flutter open, and you blink at the darkness around you. It feels impenetrable, too dark. Even at night, you can usually make out the shape of your furniture, the outline of your windows, the streetlamps trying to push their light past your curtains. But you can see absolutely nothing. Did you even open your eyes?

You blink. Yeah, you did. There's something eerie in the way you're staring into the black void in front of you, it gives you chills, makes your body shudder, and as you jerk a little, you feel the weight and the pressure inside of you. The toy. It's still in there, buried deep, and it keeps throbbing, spewing liquid warmth into you. It feels so real. Your heart beats faster, your breaths quicken.

Then a strange hum fills the air, you freeze immediately, your eyes widening. It's a soothing sound as much as it is terrifying. It makes you stiffen, frozen in place, a deep chill running down your spine. And then there's this huff, like an exhale, and you can feel warm air wafting towards you, hitting your sweat-slick face. A tiny little croak escapes you as fear grips your limbs after all.

There is something, holding you down, impaling you on its cock, leaning over you, breathing right against your quivering lips. You can't see it, no matter how hard you try, but it's there. Huffing and puffing in a low, deep rumble, an unseen weight resting between your legs. Hot tears fall from under your lashes, running down your cheeks, but they never reach the pillow beneath your head.

It's a warm sensation, wet, almost a little slimy, and it feels like a tongue lapping at your skin, and the thought alone pushes you right to the edge of hysteria. Helpless whimpers escape you, but that disembodied, unseen tongue keeps licking up the tears continuously spilling from your eyes. Warm breaths dry your wet cheeks, those little huffs quieter now, calm and collected, and they slowly ease your own breathing as you stare ahead at nothing but blackness.

A little shriek is coaxed out of your throat when you feel the same tongue on your neck now, something soft nudging your calves until you let go of your legs and let them fall open against whatever has settled between them. They don't reach the soft bedding beneath but are held up now by something else, and you're too far gone to question it anymore. With your legs down, your torso is exposed to the shadows, your breasts trembling as your chest rises and falls quicker.

Those warm huffs of air hit your sensitive nipples before something warm circles them, and you can feel them being pulled and teased, making you shiver deeply, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your clit and fluttering cunt. The thick shaft inside you throbs as well, still leaking the occasional spurt of warm fluid. The knot is pulsing, tight and harder than before, or so it feels, those bulging veins on it rubbing deliciously against your stretched flesh.

You feel yourself drifting again under all these ministrations, lulled into your own darkness.

In your dreams, or whatever reality you find yourself in, you see a large shadow leaning over you. And you are calm about it, not afraid, but content. The appearance of the figure above you is hazy, like black smoke, fraying at its edges, no clear contour to make out. But what you can see (or think to see) are strong arms, a broad torso, muscles wherever you look. A display of strength and power and dominance, and in its shadow, you feel safe, protected.

You assume it's a large man, but you can't see his face. It's still too dark. But you can feel his breath on your skin, his lips trailing around your breasts, upwards to your collarbones, before you feel that warm tongue against your neck again. You tilt your head, giving him better access, and he hums deeply, showering you with little kisses and broad strokes of his tongue. Your pulse is fluttering against his mouth, and he senses your arousal, smells it. He seems to sniff you, hovering over you, warm and heavy.

“You are mine now,” you hear a low thrum in the air, assuming it's his voice. “My mate.”

You don't know what that means, but you're ready. You want it. And as if he can feel your approval, he leans in, his lips closing around your pulse, sucking softly, his teeth nibbling carefully, before you feel a different sensation. A pinch, a prick, a sudden cold stab when something sharp sinks into your skin.

You moan quietly as a strange warmth rushes through you (and out of you), the smell of metal wafting towards your nostrils, but you keep still, and without knowing what's happening, you let him bite you, mark you, and he grunts against you, holding your neck between his teeth as a shudder crashes through his big body that travels all the way to his cock buried deep inside of you. You feel it throbbing, the knot pulsing, and as your walls clench in response, you feel more warmth seeping into you as he fills you up again.

His hips grind against yours, soft little nudges, and you feel so good. An unusually gentle orgasm washes over you then, like a calming caress through your body that soothes you, eases your sore muscles, the slight pain in your neck, any other ailments you might have had. None of it matters anymore. You've found your mate. You're not alone anymore. You feel like coming home. Safe...

“What's your name?” you breathe out into the black void ready to consume you, not sure why you feel the need to ask this.

A huff of warm air moves over your face before a low hum vibrates in your ear. “Fenrir,” he growls quietly, and it's all you need to know as you inhale deeply, a soft smile grazing your lips.

Then, the darkness closes around you as if someone puts their hand over your eyes, whisking you away to sleep, or back to reality...

The next time you wake up, you are cuddled into your sheets, and the sunlight filters through your curtains. A new day, and you've never felt this refreshed before. Sitting up, you stretch with a soft squeak, rolling your neck, inhaling deeply. Your eyes move through the room, and the sight of the large dildo on your desk doesn't even confuse you anymore. It feels right to see it there. You stand up and walk past it on your way to the bathroom, your fingers sliding gently along its curved shaft.

In the midst of your morning routine, you hear the chime of your doorbell. Slipping into your fuzzy bathrobe, you hurry to the door, but when you reach it, whoever was there, is already gone. Though they left something behind. You bend down to pick up the small package, seeing your address on it and the usual postal stamps. Delivery? But you didn't expect anything.

You close the door and bring the unassuming box to your desk, putting it down next to the big toy on its base. Humming to yourself, mindlessly scratching at a spot on your neck, you open the package – and frown when you see its contents. Slowly you raise it out of its black satin bag. It's the dildo you ordered. The right size also. It's so small, barely as long as your hand, maybe the size of a soda can but much thinner, less than half the size of the toy that sits next to the opened box.

It's got the same design, the same ridges and nubs and the protruding bulbs of the knot, but it's so... tiny. You really ordered this? Apparently so, as you check the accompanying receipt and instructions. You can only half-remember that horny night when you browsed the site, and intimidated as you were, you chose the smallest size: Mini. You had no idea it would be this small. There's a picture of the different available sizes, and you realize the thing you actually fit into your cunt is the Large one. And just how large it is...

You shiver just thinking of having it inside you. But you also can't wait to put it back in. Your mind is hazy with memories of using it, of what really happened since you got it (and somehow you don't even wonder why you received two packages), and it's all a blur of ecstasy that makes you salivate and drip into the panties you put on.

Yet when you notice that the article has a name, you pause, blinking in confusion, your hand still scratching at what feels like a scabby wound on your neck. The name of the dildo feels familiar, like a distant memory, and it is –

As soon as you say it out loud, the big dark blue toy starts humming, its vibrations (even though you're not connected to it) sending shock waves through your whole body, activating all the right nerves. Your heart beats faster, your breaths turn into soft moans, and your cunt clenches hungrily around nothing.

“Fenrir.”

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[liyawritesss]

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

-> synopsis: what would life be like to love the worlds baseball darling and secret superhero Ultraman, Kenji Sato?

-> pairing: kenji sato + black!gn!reader

-> from: ultraman: rising

-> contains: pure fluff, gender neutral, mentions of emiko and emi, 2nd person ('you', 'your', 'yours')

-> a/n: these animators need to stop making these kid movies with fine ass main characters bc whyyyyyyy is he so cute??? why do i wanna baby him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay? LET THIS MAN KNOW PEACE PLEASE!!!

-> join my taglist!

-> tags: @badass-dora-milaje @uranometrias @lees-chaotic-brain @jacuzziwaters

Kenji Sato who loves loves loooooovveeesss those subliminal couples pictures. The ‘private but not secret’ ones. They’re so aesthetically pleasing to him and they allow him to show you off to the world while still maintaining an air of privacy that he cherishes deeply from the media. Kenji is proud to call you his, and wants to show that in all ways possible.

Kenji Sato who is heavy on the couples jewelry. He’s already got a couple of notable pieces in his collection beforehand, and they only expand when you come into his life. In fact, the speculations of his love life come from the fact that people were noticing that he was wearing pieces from brands that were specifically designed for couples. Of course, when asked about it, he never goes into depth about it, and just recites how he thinks they look nice on him…and on someone else.

Kenji Sato who introduces you to his mom only after he’s sure that he wants to be serious with you. I have a feeling Emiko is the type of mom to get attached to their child’s partner in the sense of already viewing them as part of the family very early on, and Kenji wouldn’t want to get her hopes up if something were to happen - he can’t stand to see his mom upset. But when he does introduce you to his mom, you two become the best of friends! So definitely expect to be sent on girls day adventures by Kenji, cuz he’ll definitely be treating the two most important women in his life like royalty.

Kenji Sato who requires a lot of patience to deal - I mean, the man has a lot going on. Being the number one baseball player in the world, saving Japan from threats as Ultraman, and caring for the large kaiju baby Emi is more than a lot on anyone's plate. Kenji’s gonna need someone to understand that his schedule is never solid, and plans may fall through from time to time, and thats not because he’s not trying, but it’s because spontaneity runs his life and things can change at the drop of a hat, out of his control. It’s not the life he asked for, but it’s one he must take on.

Kenji Sato who doesn't exactly know how to bring up the topic of him being Ultraman, much less about Emi, early on in the relationship. I mean, how often do you tell someone that you're Japan's legendary hundred-foot tall superhero or that you're the surrogate parent to a twenty foot tall baby dragon kaiju? As much planning that he does on telling you, it ultimately happens in the worse way possible - you end up finding him mid-transition with Emi in tow...now that's gonna be an interesting story to tell. Spoiler: you stay with him, but now he's subjected to jokes about how is ego isn't the only thing that blows up to an enormous degree.

Kenji Sato who appreciates a partner that can not only deal with spontaneity, but is also rather spontaneous themselves. Surprise dates, random gifts, adventurous propositions out of the blue, I think those kind of things are right up his alley. He’s learned to live life in the moment and to the fullest, because it can be taken from you within an instant, and he wants to cherish every moment he has with you.

Kenji Sato who would spend his money on you religiously. He’ll sit in the dressing room with you as you try on armfuls of clothes, only to hand you his credit card at the end of the haul with a kiss to your temple, encouraging you to buy it all if you desire. And don't let you look at something too long in a display window, because he will have it shipped to your address in two business days. Endless trips post-baseball season in secluded locations so that the two of you can optimize the privacy you desperately crave.

Kenji Sato who’s a little bashful and nervous in the beginning, but eases into the relationship as time goes on. He doesn’t wanna mess up something so good that he has going on. Opening up takes some time, as he’s got some high walls that are hard to climb, but once you do get him to open up and bare his heart to you, don’t take it for granted. He doesn't do this to everyone, only the people he feels will truly return the care and compassion he has - so don’t prove him wrong.

Kenji Sato who seeks your comfort in the middle of the night when sleep evades him, leaving him restless and anxious. Most times, its about his mom and her disappearance, a mystery that's never left his mind. If you don't wake up to find him sitting up in bed deep in thought, or trying to tire himself out in a simulation, he finds comfort in just cuddling you, admiring your sleeping form, and talks about the most random things until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

Kenji Sato who’s sort of in between the serious lover and the playful lover - he’s maturing in his emotions and how to deal with his past, learning how to communicate better and express himself healthily. Simultaneously, he’s a goofball and a jokester reliving a bit of his childhood in his love with you. Playful banter, jokes and teasing are equally as present as the late night talks and the deep conversations the two of you share.

Kenji Sato who tucks the chain that has his promise ring on it close to his chest, and on game days, rubs his thumb over the gold band for comfort and assurance before he heads up to bat. During championships, he'll ask you to kiss it for good luck, and when he wins, he of course accredits it to you being his 'good luck charm'.

Kenji Sato who loves deeply and fervently, with compassion and the entirety of his heart, who will do his duty and love you unconditionally an proudly while shielding you from the cruel and prying eyes of the public, letting you know time and time again that it will always be you he chooses, no matter what.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Im owning up to this one lol

I don't get Cattail hate. Like why she should care about Clay, Mudwings allow there dragonets to raise themselves and the parents don't take a big role in there upbringing . It's just how her culture works. She is not a bad person for not acting like the average mother meeting her long lost son. And sure maybe selling him off wasn't the nicest thing to do knowing he would grow up away from his tribe and sibs but I'm sure the Talons would have stolen him anyway and she assumed Asha would be watching over him.

And I know when you read it from Clays perspective she is single handedly crushing all of his dreams about his parents and family and not the kind of mother he expected or wanted. She is not likeable to him because therefore she is not presented as likeable to us because the book is written in his perspective. But she is not a bad mother for Mudwing standards.

She is not mean or rude to him in any way she tells him the truth about what happened to his egg and how Mudwing culture works. She is kinda cold but its what Clay needs to hear. She's not going to pretend like she missed him or that Mudwings are loving parents to spare his feelings. She never uses her son's fame for her own gain or tries to take advantage of his attachment Not a big fan of her design in the comics tho.

I have also heard the take that Glory should have made the Rainwing keep and raise their own eggs After she became queen. I believe that there is nothing wrong with the way Rainwing raise their dragonets. None of the dragons in the rainforest seem neglected, unhappy or even care about their bioparents. (Except Glory but she got over it)It's much better then Sandwings that have starving orphans running around the Scorpions Den.

I would go on but this is getting long so I'll just say that Rainwings and Mudwings aren't bad parents.

.

[purplealmonds]

My Mononoke and Sky: CoTL fandom wires getting crossed because I just got back from a Sky art exhibit/panel and the newly revealed Mononoke's worldbuilding lore confirms the existence of multiple medicine sellers.

So I made some Mononoke-inspired Sky kids to get it out of my system. Or would it be considered a Sky-inspired Medicine Seller? 🤔

Some design insights and lore below the cut!

Sky-Kusu's haircut and tunic are modeled after a moth's. For the uninitiated, in Sky we call new players "moths" because they fly awkwardly and are attracted to bright lights.

The gold necklace around Sky-Kusu's neck resembles both anime-Kusu's necklace and Sky's Season of Revival pendant. He probably arrived in this realm while that season was running.

Sky-Kusu's cape is shaped like a butterfly (which he has an affinity for) and emblazoned with Sky mural patterns. I made it blue as a nod to anime-Kusu's kimono and the Beta Cape, a cosmetic gifted to playtesters. Sky-Kusu's existence predates that of Sky so that's thematically appropriate.

Instead of carrying a medicine box, Sky-Kusu has a large butterfly pot. These butterflies are a silvery blue as a nod to kitsunebi- foxfire- which is said to contain the life force of a kitsune which Kusu is often associated with. Butterflies in Sky help rekindle light, which is especially crucial for Sky-Kusu because...

Sky-Kusu only has one "Winged Light" - his "Hyper" form- hence the sun dog halo around Sky-Hyper's head.

Sky-Hyper's haircut is honestly just an aesthetic choice. It's one of my favorite hairstyles in Sky, and allows for some fun patterning in the buzzcut area.

Sky-Hyper's costume design is heavily inspired by his movie counterpart's. However, because Sky doesn't allow cosmetics that reveal too much of the skin, he's also wearing what's essentially a modesty tube top and leggings lol. It has the unintended side effect of making him appear more feminine-presenting, which I'm not entirely bothered about.

The markings on Sky-Hyper's skin are inspired by his original markings and star constellations. They're colored silvery blue for kitsunebi. Coincidentally, a lot of spirits in sky are also tinted blue. Hmmm...

The Winged Light scattered throughout the Sky realms deeply unsettle Hyper. They are so much like him, yet have no personality or minds to speak of. Soulless batteries. Although it is to their detriment, their shared body subconsciously rejects these Winged Lights.

This leaves them quite vulnerable to dark creatures in the more dangerous realms. A solid blow from a dark dragon knocks 5-7 Winged Lights out of an unfortunate sky kid. If Sky-Kusu gets hit with his single winged light...

Because weapons are forbidden in Sky, I swapped Sky-Kusu's exorcism sword out with an exorcism...lantern-on-a-stick? It has a little bell and tassel attached to it too!

Since the exorcism sword is traditionally modeled after a fearsome creature, I made the lantern's color palette match that of a dark dragon. At its full power, it can "exorcise" an entire shard eruption in a single blow.

Normally, the exorcism lantern's light isn't "unleashed" unless specific conditions are met to exorcise entity. However, in the Sky realms where light is freely given and shared, the lantern can be lit by other sky kids but burns a weaker flame akin to a sky kid's candle.

Because of this perpetual fire, Hyper cannot fully fall into dormancy. This is fine. He keeps Sky-Kusu company in this strange new world.

[creaman]

—BECAUSE KUNG FU PANDA 4 KILLED MY GRANDMA, OKAY?

To preface, I watched this movie and I'm genuinely tweaking right now so I had to write down a very brief (lie) criticism on this film — which you should boycott, by the way.

Starting with the things I liked, before briefing my primary points of criticism:

Po's Character Regression

Po and Zhen's Dynamic

The Chameleon

I'd also yap about Lord Shen and the death of the art style and the entire narrative and pacing and use of the staff of wisdom but my therapist says being such a hater is 'unhealthy' or something. My heart is full of hatred.

SPOILERS for the entirety KFP4 for the 2 people who care.

KFP4 undermines and ignores the previous three movies — Unwriting character developments, outright removing the Furious Five, straying from the character design philosophies and is completely inconsistent with the established lore.

Things I Liked About Kung Fu Panda 4

The Chameleon's character design

Visual gag in the Tavern where Po uses a recently thrown axe as a hat rack (made me laugh)

When Mr. Ping did this:

so cute! the little heart!

Po — Character Writing

Po, as established in the previous movies, is confident in his abilities and identity — he’s learnt inner peace, he’s matured as a character. However, in KFP4, his character has completely regressed. He’s immature again (such as KFP1, possibly worse) and says verbatim, “only knows kicking butt and taking names” — UNLEARNING inner peace and insisting that “…being the Dragon Warrior is all I know.”

It’s childish, and sort of Hotel Transylvania-esque.

Which isn’t helped by the comedy, the dialogue — a large chunk of which are jokes in the style of:

Master Shifu says something philosophical

Po quips off of it / doesn’t get it (i.e. Whoa!! beat I don’t know what that means.)

Oh, it’s great, yeah, very tolerable. Po’s shenanigans are normally reeled in by the presence of the Furious Five who are generally more serious in nature, creating a much needed balance in the dynamic — So without them, it’s just Po becoming increasingly obnoxious and insufferable with every consecutive quip throughout the screenplay.

Po and Zhen — Character Dynamics

[No more graphics sorry I'm too angry]

As if it wasn’t obvious that Zhen was going to be the next Dragon Warrior the second she was introduced.

Zhen, as a character, has no depth besides being a quippy thief. She quips, she steals. This character has no motives — it can be assumed that the writers intended on a ‘change of heart’ thing, but she isn’t established as evil, her working for the Chameleon is written as a (albeit poor) twist reveal.

By which point, her taking either side wouldn’t make sense, given that she has shown no loyalty or attachment to either Po nor the Chameleon.

The movie artificially strengthens their bond by having Zhen start opening up about her backstory out of nowhere for no reason but they have done nothing to grow closer to each other.

Small tangent, her backstory is exactly what you’d expect it to be with no subversions or even emotional weight. Woe is me I was so small and hungry I had to steal to survive. Glossed over in about a minute.

The majority of the dialogue between Zhen and Po is spoken exposition — explaining how powerful and badass the Chameleon is, explaining how ‘we have to go here to do that’ and ‘this place was cool until the Chameleon did such and such’, and the rest of their time together is spent engaging in filler chase sequences and fight scenes.

The Chameleon

Where do I even start…

This is where it becomes apparent that the movie relies heavily on telling rather than showing —

She is the weakest villain by far, not only in universe but as a written character; which is particularly disheartening because I genuinely adore her character design and feel as though a shapeshifting character has great potential.

The movie artificially inflates her power by insisting through exposition that this is the most capable antagonist thus far (lie).

The audience is TOLD by Zhen and various restaurant patrons that the Chameleon is a powerful shapeshifting sorceress and that she 'dominates the city' whilst the film does nothing to showcase this.

'Dominating the city' meaning letting her henchpeople run amock and bully the civilians just like Lord Shen's wolves in KFP2... uninspired.

I just realised they didn't even give her a NAME what the FUCK is going on

She describes HERSELF as ruthless, clever and unsentimental when comparing Zhen to herself.

She says HERSELF that she’s “Stronger than every opponent you’ve ever faced.”

Let’s see what vile reprehensible things she’s done, shall we?

Gently push someone down some stairs

Her first appearance is through Zhen’s exposition, as opposed to the dramatic and memorable entrances of the previous villains. Her motives or character aren’t established until the final third of the film. She doesn’t even FIGHT anybody until the final third of the film; and even then, her fight sequences are uninspired and she never really poses a real threat. (She goes down in two hits.)

That being said, WE CAN STILL SAVE HER GUYS WE CAN STILL GET HER OUTTA THERE I'M COMING FOR YOU CHAMELEON I'M GONNA DRAFT YOU A PROPER BACKSTORY AND MOTIVE AND YOU'RE GONNA BE THE MOST THREATENING VILLAIN THUS FAR

There's a scene after the climax of the film where all the kung fu masters and previous villains from the spirit realm bow to Po. I'm not going to provide my thoughts on this because I fear I may burst a blood vessel. Good day!

Closing Statements

To put it simply, Kung Fu Panda 4 was my Megamind 2.

The film rejects its predecessors in every way. It really feels as though they brought in somebody with no prior knowledge of the franchise to direct the movie.

It's a film that relies heavily on telling rather than showing — banking on the previous three movies to carry it through the box office.

It's just really disheartening to see studio execs turn one of the best franchises into a safe sequel cash grab and regress every character's development.

Nevertheless. I do adore the chameleon's character design so I might do my own take on her character.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no fairy godmother, there is no tooth fairy, and there is no kung fu panda 4.

[inkcapjester]

how i think kotlc characters would play minecraft: a rant

sophie would absolutely build a dirt shack the first night and then just be like, yea this is home now. i think she would progress fairly quickly because she probably played it growing up. she has literally never beaten the ender dragon tho. not once.

dex would be a god at minecraft. i need him to play so badly. omg he would love redstone and hed probably build a really elaborate base with tons of secret hidden rooms and passages. he would beat the game before everyone else even has iron tools. god he would be such a nerd over minecraft. shannon let the boy play minecraft.

fitz would try really hard to build a cool house, but it would just end up being one of those og diamond cube houses 💀💀 i think hed get frustrated, quit for a bit, then come back and settle for being a farmer and later learn to enjoy making cakes and pies in the game. i think hed make way too many and just end up showing up at other peoples houses and dumping like a stack of cakes on them.

keefe would make such a good builder. i think he would have so much fun designing houses and decorating their interior. i think he would be appalled at sophies shack and insist on building her a new one. he would love collecting all the paintings and displaying them. i think he would also incorporate secret passages and rooms in his houses, along with boobie traps. he would totally make a secret passage connecting his and sophie’s houses. he would also adopt a couple cats, or he and sophie would together. they are cat people.

biana would so love the flower biomes and i think she would get distracted by all the pretty fauna. but when night roles around i think she would just go around beating up hostile mobs, flowers in hand. she could and would beat the ender dragon to death with a flower

linh would 100% make an animal sanctuary and breed a ton of turtles just cause their cute. she would love riding with dolphins and exploring different biomes. she would go on an adventure and come home, lead in hand, and like 200 new animal friends behind her. i think she would also adamantly still be a vegetarian even in the game.

tam would excel at mining and grinding resources. he would have just an ungodly amount of wood, stone, iron, food, etc “just in case of emergency”. i think he would either live in the end, or make a base beneath linh’s animal sanctuary. he would befriend endermen and request a special habitat for them in the sanctuary. i think he would adopt like one dog via linh and he would become extremely attached to it, but would never admit it. he would spoil it rotten.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[leafnighthybridwolfsbane]

Icewing Headcanons

(Info below the cut)

OK. FINALLY GETTING TO THESE AGAIN. I got the motivation when going back to working on designs for horror movie villains (+the Final Girl). I greatly apologize about not getting these done sooner. Hopefully you all enjoy these last 5 headcanons and the designs. As a fair warning two of them look a lot like their canon designs. I will explain more in those posts specifically.

Tribe Headcanons

Icewings have icicle like spikes along their neck that work similarly to a North American porcupine's quills. Meaning that they're loosely attached. Though, they can still pierce another dragon. These quills have tiny little barbs that keep the quills stuck. This makes it extremely hard and extremely painful to take the spikes out of another dragon.

Their horns branch similarly to an elk's or caribou's antlers as one of the very few ways you can rise in the ranks is by fighting for dominance. Normally this is one by the matriarch of the family.

Their ears are made of a thicker layer of skin and have a thin layer of muscle around the middle sections of the ear. Meaning that their ears can do a lot more movement than other dragons. Though it also means that this muscle can easily be torn if not careful. Much like the human eyelid.

The thick skin goes along with their wing membranes. This makes them one of the loudest flyers besides Hivewings.

Icewings can be under the arctic waters for around an hour, their nostrils working a lot like a seal's nostrils or a marine mammal's blowhole.

Fur covers the entirety of an Icewing's body to help keep them warm in the frozen lands they inhabit. Some Icewings end up sharing patters with arctic animals such as arctic hares or lynx.

Though, patterns seem to be extremely looked down upon. Typically being considered an impurity in the ice nests the young hatched from. The only accepted pattern is a darker gradient going into a lighter gradient. It's only been in the most recent ruler's time as queen that this belief has been slowly worked on unlearning.

Most Icewings have some form of gradient on the top of their wings while the bottom is the lightest color on their body.

Icewings are well known for being pursuit predators, having the most stamina when they run out of all of the tribes. Most of the time prey is caught in a group with a leader of the hunt.

These hunting groups works similarly to a pack of wolves as they are all the same rank. One is considered the "Alpha", or leader, of the group and another is considered the "Beta", or second in command, of the group to keep things organized. Alphas and betas are considered responsible for the lives and performance of their group, meaning they can get put into a lower circle if their efforts are not good enough.

There is a rare coloration morph an Icewing can get called Auroran. It is considered a version of melanistic where the coloration on an Icewing match up colors to the northern lights. This means they can end up being colored to any color of the aurora.

Environment also dictates coloration. Closer to a forest most of the time will cause them to look more green. Closer to an ocean would bring out more of a blue coloration. Closer to the sky means either a more purple or pink-ish coloration. Barren icelands or ground level of the palace will grant a teal-ish coloration. Sometimes this is a great indication of which rank they came from.

Icewings are considered the second grumpiest tribe while also being the coldest. Unlike skywings that seem angry or easily annoyed, Icewings tend to be arrogant, cold, or conniving with their grumpiness. Some believe it's due to their close-mindedness.

Icewings have the opposite to an ancient sandwing's fire scales. This cold is the only thing that can combat a skywing's fire scales, and even potentially freeze them with frost bite. Most Icewings, though, only have a chill that come off of them naturally and isn't enough to combat a fire scales skywing.

Icewings are also well known for holding festivals, but most of the time it is only rumored as no one is able to cross into their border to really get the full story.

If an Icewing were to be a hybrid of any sort, their blood will come out as a bluish tinted purple color. This can cause their coloration to have purple coloration, especially in the spikes, horns, and face.

Icewings aren't as quick to anger as Seawings, but they are more ruthless. Their loyalty to their queen is unmatched though. This is due to how their society works and has been for many generations.

An Icewing will almost always think about everything they do and the outcomes due to how their society is and how brutal it is when looking at their strict rules.

Lore Headcanons

Icewing society was one of the first societies to exist. First it was made of militant group, then they had kings until their society started becoming matriarchal. Their society eventually being lead by females or fem presenting (transfem and fem nonbinary individuals specifically) individuals.

It is said that they're the first tribe to have an animus dragon. Meaning that they're the first to control it and learned how to "properly" keep them from becoming murderers.

Family groups are not too important in Icewing society due to their use of the circles and the gift of order. Families can be separated at any point, typically when the dragonets become adults and either move up or down in the ranks.

Icewings have communal homes for dragonets in different circles that work similarly to private schools. These communal homes are meant to provide dragonets their best chances at rising in the ranks. Though, not all do. Normally being rare (much like a lower grade school in the US) as they don't always have the resources.

It is Considered an honor for lower ranked Icewings to be called out to a war as it means that if they come back with enough kills, they can potentially come back with a higher rank. Though these opportunities are far and few in between.

Their festivals are normally to celebrate the northern lights. It is said that during the great battle between the Icewings and Nightwings, and Auroran Icewing went into battle and slaugtered tens of hundreds of them in a week on their own. Eventually dying and ending the war temporarily. Eventually dying the night where the northern lights came out. There are also festivals similar to yule as it is culturally believed the first Icewings didn't have their current resistance to the cold.

Most Frost scales Icewings were killed during the animus scare. Though not all were killed and aren't considered as dangerous as an animus. Though, they are looked down upon until recent wars that they were cast into to try to combat sandwings and skywings.

Current exports of the Icewings are pelts and taxidermy due to their knowledge on how to properly take care of the hide and bones. Though, some tend to export lumber and delicacies only in the Ice Kingdom.

Drawing Inspirations

Turkish Angoras were the cat species I took some inspiration from for the body typing.

"Till I Collapse" by Eminem was great inspiration for drawing, but I imagine any militaristic beat will work for Icewings due to the militaristic society I see them having.

Used a lynx for the patterns on this one. Plus the idea of when you pick up snow while the temperature warms gave me the idea of "impurities" patterns imply to their society.

Basically they're giant antlered penguins when they swim, which is why they have counter shading as well

Wings of Fire Headcanon Lists

Mudwings

Leafwings

Hivewings

Silkwings

[yuzurujenn]

[2023.11.11] AERA Special Edition - Yuzuru Hanyu's COSTUMES by Satomi Ito

Vividly colouring the ice The World of Satomi Ito's Costume Designs

Program Itsuka Owaru Yume PROLOGUE / November 4, 2022 Hanyu sent me an image of the colour, and I proposed several design options. I had heard in advance that it was a program without jumps, so I thought it would be nice to have fluttering sleeves and a long hem like a goldfish. To avoid a flat appearance from a distance, I gathered drapes from the front to the back. Since the sleeves and hem are long, I wanted a sense of airiness, so I designed it with an open back. The colours are airbrushed in varying shades of light blue and lavender.

Program CHANGE PROLOGUE / November 4, 2022 Given the unique arrangement of this piece, I wanted to create a modern, asymmetrical costume rather than a completely Japanese design. I used silk fabric with gold thread embroidery on a black base, which I had purchased years ago at first sight and had kept in storage. It was a precious material, so I hadn’t been able to use it until now, but I believe it would be fulfilling for the fabric to be used in Hanyu’s costume. The left shoulder features a woven decoration, and I paired it with a faux leather belt at the waist to avoid an all-black look.

Program Ashura-chan GIFT / February 26, 2023 This is a very simple shirt costume compared to what I’ve made so far. Hanyu mentioned, "I want a red satin-like shirt with a glossy finish." Since satin shows stains when it gets wet, I searched for fabric that wouldn’t show stains as much. “There’s a choreography that involves lying on the ice, so that helps,” he said. Because it’s a simple costume, I focused on the quality of the materials as much as possible. The tie was also Hanyu’s request. I initially prepared a blue tie for the fitting, but he sent me an image saying, "I’d like a tie with this pattern." I used that as a reference to design the pattern, printed it, and created a tie specifically for "Ashura-chan."

Program One Summer’s Day GIFT / February 26, 2023 Hanyu suggested, "I’d like a light blue gradient effect at the split hem," so I incorporated that into the design. For this costume, I had the image of Haku (the white dragon) from "Spirited Away" in my mind. I wanted details that evoke the scales of a dragon, so I prepared three different circular cuts of organza material. I made many pieces in different sizes and colours, attaching each one individually. I also chose fabrics with a translucent quality. I layered the sleeves and added extra layers to the hem. I think the shimmering of the fabric when it moved gave it a dreamy appearance.

Program The Firebird GIFT / February 26, 2023 When Hanyu told me his image of the song, the first thing I thought was "I want to add large wings." In the initial design I presented, I had added a hair ornament, but I clearly remember Hanyu contacting me, saying, "It will be distracting during the performance, so I don’t think it will work." The costume for "The Firebird" has a strong red impression, but at first it was a bit more white. Hanyu requested, "I want to keep that while adding more colour," so I reflected that in the design, using emerald as an accent and incorporating peacock motifs in various places.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Costume Designer: Satomi Ito

Never wavering from the core, Always at the center.

Accompanying Creator vol. 1 The exquisite and glamorous costumes beautifully elevate the world contained within the program. Costume designer Satomi Ito has been pursuing a vision of “costumes that only Yuzuru Hanyu can pull off” since the beginning of their collaboration, continuously creating exclusive costumes that belong solely to each piece of music.

-Including his competitive era, you have designed many costumes for Hanyu. When did you first meet him?

In 2014, when Hanyu became a gold medalist at the Sochi Olympics, he contacted the company I was working for at the time, asking for an exhibition costume. There were other designers at the company, and many wanted to create costumes for him. A few of the senior designers and I submitted design sketches. Hanyu chose my design, which led to us creating both competitive and exhibition costumes together.

-The first costume you made was for "The Final Time Traveler." Hanyu performed in this costume at the Grand Prix Final exhibition. What do you think attracted him to your design sketches?

You should ask him directly (laughs). Although he chose my design, he mentioned that the colour wasn’t quite right, so I had to revise it. I created three new sketches to show him in person during the fitting, and he selected one on the spot to begin production. Once the design was confirmed, we would discuss colours and materials via email. Sometimes, he sends me image references or colour preferences. Depending on the costume and the timing, it usually takes about two months to create. Since the music and program concepts are determined before the design, deadlines can be tight.

-You once described Hanyu as 'a designer in his own right.'

For example, Hanyu decided almost everything about "SEIMEI". He had specific requests regarding the colours and wanted the design to stay true to the kariginu. Initially, I had a completely different idea, so in that sense, I see Hanyu as a kind of designer. However, it’s my responsibility to create the patterns, sew the pieces, and add embellishments, so I focus heavily on the details. Since the athletes are the ones who see the costumes up close, I want to create something that they will find impressive.

-Working with a skater who continuously evolves—winning consecutive Olympic titles, challenging the quadruple axel, and performing a solo show at Tokyo Dome—must be inspiring, right

Hanyu is always pursuing higher goals, and naturally, the costumes he wears should also progress in terms of lightness and materials that allow for movement. The first competition costume I made for him was for “The Phantom of the Opera” (2014-15), which weighed about 850 grams, and looking back, that feels a bit heavy. Since then, I have been exploring ways to use materials, and now most of my costumes weigh around 500 grams. The costume for “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso” (2021-22) is just slightly over 500 grams.

[Having stepped away from competition allows for more creative freedom]

-Behind the glamour, there's meticulous adjustment down to the gram.

I think athletes find practice wear the easiest to move in, but that alone isn’t enough for competition. I need to design costumes that express the program's worldview while also pursuing functionality. Honestly, design and functionality often conflict, and it’s common to feel, “I want to do this, but I can’t.” However, the most important factor is whether they can perform, so I focus on that when creating.

-Has there been any change since Hanyu stepped away from competition? 

It feels refreshing not to worry about weight. I realise, “Now that he’s out of competition, I can design more freely.” For example, in "The Firebird," after hearing Hanyu’s image of the music, my first thought was that “I want to add large wings,” so I designed the costume accordingly. For "Itsuka Owaru Yume," I had heard in advance that it was a program without jumps, so I imagined fluttering sleeves and a long hem like a goldfish. I’ve been able to take on various challenges. Just because he turned professional doesn’t mean he’s stopped jumping; he’s always moving, spinning, and the ease of movement remains a priority. However, sometimes he says things like, “This program doesn’t have jumps, so it’s okay if it’s a bit heavier,” which opens the door to new challenges (laughs). It’s exciting to explore a wider range of fabrics and decorations.

[A strong commitment to "costume for this program]

-When do you feel Hanyu's unique attention to detail when working on costume production?

Although he has never said it directly, I think he is conscious of “a costume that can only be worn by Yuzuru Hanyu.” While style varies from person to person, everyone considers how to design to make the legs look a bit longer or more proportionate, right? Hanyu is tall, so he looks good. There are designs that can only be proposed because it’s him, and he can carry off even the most extravagant costumes. The purple version of "Origin" costume is a prime example. Inspired by Nijinsky’s “Le Spectre de la Rose,” I added three-dimensional rose decorations and butterflies that weren’t in the original design sketch. This design could only be proposed thanks to Hanyu’s style, skill, and the program. I probably wouldn’t think of such design on any other skater. Even when creating costumes, I often think, 'This would be difficult for anyone other than Hanyu.' I also wonder if Hanyu himself thinks, “If it were me, it should be fine.”

-Above all, he is also a skater who values the music. 

He has a strong desire for “a costume made solely for this program,” which he has mentioned during fittings. He holds a clear concept of his program, so if he feels something is off with the design, he’ll say, “This is the image I have in mind,” and then I will make adjustments and work on it.

-You’ve been involved in creating costumes for Hanyu for nearly ten years. They are all delicate and beautiful, but are there any costumes that haven’t been revealed yet?

When I propose designs, I usually create 2 to 4 sketches. Sometimes, among the ‘rejected designs’, there are personal favourites, and I hope to unveil those on another occasion. I also think it’s okay not to be confined to figure skating costumes. In fact, I’d love to create costumes outside of figure skating (laughs). My recent goal is to create haute couture just for Hanyu and have it photographed by Mika Ninagawa.

-As the executive producer of "GIFT," Yuzuru Hanyu created a spectacular show.

After all, it’s crucial not to let your core waver. I think it's truly amazing that Hanyu takes the lead and keeps himself at the center of it all. I look forward to his future ice shows and performances.

Source: AERA Special Edition - Yuzuru Hanyu: The Solitary Driving Force pg 80-85 Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/exec/obidos/ASIN/4023323500/

[bharv]

On defined vs customisable protagonists

Taking a break from DATV for some musings on this. This isn't really an essay, just a ramble, and I'm trying to steer clear of spoilers and heavy critical stuff.

I'll discuss the Dragon Age franchise, the Mass Effect franchise, and Baldur's Gate 3, Pillars of Eternity and Cyberpunk 2077.

Basically, I want to talk a little about ways in which a game's set up can help and hinder us in understanding our protagonist, the pros and cons of voiced protags, and what works in my eyes and what doesn't. I hope this also helps people to think about how they draw characters as well!

Firstly I want to say that people will have different reasons to prefer a more defined protagonist or a more open one. Ultimately it comes down to expectations from roleplay in my eyes. There's not a right or wrong answer in which is "better" but I think there are things that help us to engage with both types.

Establishing what we know (and being consistent with it)

Essential to both types in my eyes is establishing what is known. I'm going to use Commander Shepard as my first example here. We are told instantly that Shepard is an experienced officer, has an expertise in one area, and is being considered for a significant promotion. This allows us to infer that they get the job done, and that they have to have a degree of competency (whether or not they are by the book or more loose with the rules) and that they take their job seriously. The game then gives us some good flavour choices around family values, historical trauma, what they look like and what kind of expert they are, but make no mistake; this is a veteran soldier and you are on that road with them. It's a masterpiece in creating just enough freedom for ownership of a character while telling a very distinct story; if you are paying attention at the start, you know exactly what kind of person Shep has to have been to be considered for this role, which makes for a really clear path through.

Hawke in DA2, which was almost certainly designed to mirror the success of Shepard, follows a similar path. We know that Hawke is a refugee, and has a family, and fought in a recent battle. I would argue where Hawke is weaker to people who enjoy customisation is in setting them against their family; your Shepard could be a wunderkind or be eighty years old, have any number of emotional resonances in their personal life. Hawke is much more definite in age range, relationships and social status, which gives less freedom in making them truly your own. However, DA2 is highly consistent with Hawke. Perhaps you can only really customise the face and the attitude, but that attitude ripples through all of your interactions and creates a very distinct character that is easy to become attached to.

Dragon Age Origins does a very different thing by threading through the origins into inferences throughout the story. The knowns are that you will be the Warden and you will have to save the world. How you get there offers enormous choice. You can be a self-serving politician trying to weasel your way back into power, or you can be a devout Andrastrian on a path to martyrdom. A lot of this choice comes from the choice that is allowed with a non-voiced protagonist in sheer range of responses, a pathway that games like BG3 and Pillars of Eternity have continued.

It is essential you are clear with your player early in what is known about the character, both to help them establish them in a world and avoid disappointing their expectations. If your character is a rookie, say it! If they are an expert, make it clear. You can do this through action too - it doesn't have to all be written out.

To voice or not to voice

To me, personally, Shepard is one of the only truly successful voiced customisable protagonists. I have others I like very much (V in Cyberpunk 2077 and Hawke in DA2) but they are much more a slightly editable character on a defined narrative journey. The moment you put a voice on a character you are deciding tone, meaning and intention, and if your written choice doesn't accurately reflect your tone, it breaks immersion. Shepard walks a careful line that is aided by them being "on the job" for much of the time. Formality helps! It creates boundaries that we instinctively understand from our world.

If you have a voiced protagonist, then you have to either record a ton of lines allowing for anger, diplomacy, fun, inquisition and dismissal, and if you don't do that? You probably should have just set up a more defined character and told their story, and been clear in that expectation from your establishing moments.

Oh, Lore

One thing I really liked in BG3 is the way you could toggle on and off lore friendly options during character creation. It gave you the chance to say actually no, I don't care, or make sure you were creating within that world if you did. But regardless, if you have established lore, you have to carry it through. If you have a ton of backgrounds for characters, you have to make sure that's meaningful. A Grey Warden should be able to sense Darkspawn in their first encounter; it's a huge part of their deal. A Qunari character, if you have not specified that they are Tal-Vashoth and strictly from one background, should be able to reflect positively on their religion and cultural upbringing or see things through a non-Andrastrian lens. This is where it can be easier, even if it is disappointing, to set stronger boundaries in the creation of characters. For the most part, people are okay with limitations if it gives them something to work with. In Inquisition there were complaints about how much or little the backgrounds really added to the experience of being the Herald of Andraste, but they did choose backgrounds where there might be a rough knowledge of what was occuring at the conclave. It's okay to leave some things for people to fill in the gaps, but consistency is key.

Learning as the character learns

One clever way to establish connection but allow for discovery is for the characters to learn as we do. The Dark Urge in BG3 is an obvious example of this, but I'd also add in The Watcher in Pillars of Eternity too, and even V from CP77. Whatever they thought they are, they are something more, and it allows us to keep all of what we thought we knew about our characters and find out more along the way. It allows the game to take us down a path of the present, not the past (even though all of them ARE discovering events of the past!) by making it about what a person sees themself as, what they want to be, and what they have been. It sidesteps invalidation of ideas by creating narratives that are inherently biased as they are memory, allowing us to take or question the information we are given as we are given it. It trusts an audience and the player to invest their own opinions in the burgeoning narrative.

To do this, you need to make sure that the player has a good grasp, again, of what they do know. Good grounding is essential here. Think of the prologue of Pillars of Eternity, where we can establish a character's whole value system, or the pre-heist time with V which allows us to establish an enormous amount of relationship building and relationship to the world around them. Take that time, or it will fall apart.

[toonymoon-doodles]

I present to thee-... GAMING!!!!

It is done!! I went a lil overboard with shading the metal, but like- ✨SHINY✨ I honestly wish that there was an option for you to change what he looks like when fighting.. Instead of his usual red he could be neon!!! I saw his neon idle only two times so far and I've become attached to how colorful he becomes!

Segway- here's the base sketch and background for the illustration~

Originally he was supposed to have a lil trail and a halo around his head to allude to his dragon dancing mask. But then I made the background and couldn't figure out how to incorporate it without messing up the flow, so, no lil trail for him. {Anyone who is a fan of Lackadaisy- you know what inspired the BG design.}

I was also going to use his usual red, sadly, it was too much red when paired with the BG. But then I was hit with his neon idle and I just had to do it!

Anywho- I got another cool screenshot with Gaming while I was doing the Summer event!!!