#but in like . a really stupid and silly way

[mirainwonderland]

Leon Kennedy headcanon

Content: jealousy, a little bit of angst, MDNI, subtle mentions of nsfw

Hear me out—

Listen if Leon was jealous, I don’t see him getting necessarily rough and like throwing you around and leaving hickeys everywhere like a sex maniac. None of that punishment stuff stay with me here for a second instead, I see him getting very touchy, like almost aggressively touchy, but not overly rough or violent. More like insistent or energetic, liking getting a little swept up in needing to be as close to you as possible as if to prove something to himself that he forgets his own strength like:

“Leon, what has gotten into you?” You ask, as he has a firm grip on your shoulders, nuzzling his face insistently into your neck or chest, being aggressively affectionate with kisses against your skin. Pressing his body against you like he’s trying to pull you into being a part of him because he doesn’t know what he’d ever do if he lost you and his mind is immediately outlining the most unlikely worst case scenarios.

Because it throws him way too much for his liking. And he hates feeling so insecure because he knows you’d never leave him and another guy would never take you from him, but he’s constantly cycling through the what ifs.

But when he answers you, the words are so nonchalant, even if his tone of voice thinly veils how bothered he is.

He’d say something like, “huh, didn’t realize kissing your girlfriend became a crime”, as a poor attempt at a joke but you can both hear the insecurity in his voice and he hates it

So to remedy that and try and keep up his tough guy reputation, he’d spin you around and start kissing the hell out of you and really taking over in the way he knows drives you crazyyy and just being overall more insistently dominant than usual

But he’s still careful cause he doesn’t actually want to hurt you. He’s more just trying to prove something for himself that he’s the one you come to, he’s the one that makes you feel good. And he’s a little embarrassed cause he knows it’s kinda immature but he can’t help it he wants you to need him in every context that savior complex peeking out to say hello

Once he gets you in bed under him he spends an absurd amount of time insistently touching and kissing all over your skin like he’s trying to purify it or something he doesn’t really even know and he feels like a pathetic dog marking his territory but he can’t stop (he’s not ofc he just feels a little pathetic poor guy)

He wouldn’t be overly rough on you, just intense. Insanely intense, like he’s trying to give you the best orgasm of your life. Like he’s pulling out all the stops and trying to do everything he knows you like, like he’s subconsciously trying to prove he’s good enough and he knows you and your body better than anyone.

He doesn’t show or say all this very well though, he’s pretty stern faced and stoic, eyebrows furrowed in concentration during the whole thing, frowning because his mind can’t stop racing with all the self-deprecating thoughts and him being nervous about you leaving him for no reason. And he’s knows it’s stupid but he just needs this: just needs to feel and taste your skin and kiss your lips until they’re numb, and thread his fingers in your hair as he watches your face twist and scrunch in ecstasy

All because of him. He’s doing that to you.

He really wants to make you writhe and cling to him, and be intense enough that it drives you into his arms for purchase and something to cling to in the storm he wages upon you himself. Anything to make you forget how to speak and to call out his name like you need him. Like he’s your anchor against the waves he‘s responsible for.

He feels better once you’re lying on his chest, dozing and holding onto him in your sleepy state. And he feels satisfied that you rely on him for things, and that you get so cuddly after he wears you out.

And in the afterglow he’s questioning his own thought process and how he could be so silly as to be bothered by the thought of someone taking you away— because it’s never gonna happen duh

He brushes your hair back from your peaceful face and he feels his chest grow all nice and warm and a little guilty for so selfishly making you ‘suffer’ for his internal conflict

I just think jealous Leon would be such an internally angsty mess

K thanks bye x

[theonly-agere-bunn13]

🎒 - paci for sure! A cute sippy-like bottle (the adult sippy cups that you take with you to the gym), a mask to hide the paci :3 one of my favorite stuffies, maybe some coloring pages and crayons or colored pencils or markers, some fidget toys, and smth like chap stick or lip gloss

🪼 - SPERM WHALE!!! I think they're so stupid cool and big and how deep they can dive is incredible and like so impressive especially for an animal like that big? With all that water pressure? SHEESH

🦑 - i do not like looking at myself in mirrors when im regressed .. it really puts me out of it and makes me feel really insecure about my little space bca i physically feel and imagine myself as so small but then i see myself looking normal and like my normal age and it gives me anxiety wjabsj

🐡 - honestly .. i don't think i have an "exotic" hobby. I can't think of this one wjsbdj

🐟 - my aesthetic when im big is a mix of coquette and soft cottage core, so when im regressed its really just a more .. babyish version of that in a way? I feel like it's a lot more whimsical and imaginative when im regressed than when im not, and i like to think im a fairy when i regress :3

🐋 - they're pretty much the same both when im regressed and when im not. The typical bunnies, kittens, dogs/puppies, but when im regressed, i identify a lot more with raccoons and foxes ..

🦈 - im 50/50 .. my sister really loves sharks and i think the pictures and videos they send me are so silly and cute, they're like little water puppies :3 but then i see a video of a shark and blood and bleh ..

🦭 - i don't have a specific pattern or schedule .. it kinda just happens when my body feels it needs time to relax and my brain feels like it needs a factory reset. I'd say like once a week at the most .. if even that.

🦦 - I haveeee 3 stuffies :3 I have Crybaby, a pink bunny with a rattle that i got in the baby section of the Walmart, my bear King, who i found in my grandma's closet a couple years ago, and then Kitty :3 my hello kitty squishmallow stuffie .. i want more tho

🌿 - PINK!!! Specifically pastel baby-pink and like a light coral pink .. i really love the light baby pink when im regressed, and the coral pink for when im big. It's kinda how i differentiate myself from when im regressed VS when im big. If my favorite color is baby pink, im feeling little, if it's coral, im feeling big

🐚 - i used to collect sea shells when we would go visit family down south more often .. but we stopped a few years ago and i lost my sea shell collection somewhere during a move :< I'd love to collect more things but idk what I'd want to collect specifically ..

🪷 - My bedroom :3 it has a lot of twinkle lights and soft warm lighting .. so i turn everything on when im feeling regressed and i tend to just stare at everything when im little. My bedroom is my main sage space <3

🌊 - this is gonna sound a little weird but we listen and we don't judge .. when im big i like to put lime flavored beer salt in my water BUT IT HAS TO BE LIKE ICE COLD otherwise I'll hate it. And when im little it's usually just milk or orange juice if im feeling like i want smth sweeter :3

🫧 - i don't knowww .. honestly i don't really have the ability to do much when im regressed. Really i just sit in my room on call with my boyfriend and babble and talk and stare at my bedroom lights while rocking back and forth. Although i do love sleeping and being all cozy .. i guess that could be counted as an activity :3

aquarium—themed regression ask game !!

not all of the questions are regression—oriented , but they’re still good get-to-know-me questions ^_^

[ ⭐️ ] it is appreciated that when you reblog this post , you send some questions from this post to whoever you reblogged it from ! /gen/nf

🎒 — what are the items in your ideal agere / caregiver bag or backpack ? how often would you have it with you ?

🪼 — favorites aquatic / semi—aquatic creature ?

🦑 — is there anything your especially scared of when regressed ? ( alt : is there anything you especially dislike when regressed ? )

🐡 — what’s your most “exotic” hobby or interest ?

🐟 — do you identity with a particular aesthetic when regressed that’s different than your big self ?

🐋 — favorite animal when big vs. regressed ?

🦈 — thoughts on sharkies ?? friend or foe ? cute or scary ?

🦭 — how often do you regress ? do you notice any patterns of when you regress like times or days of the week ?

🦦 — do you have or want to have plushies ? ( if you do , what are their names ? )

🌿 — what’s your favorite color ? ( be as specific as possible ! )

🐚 — do you like to collect things ? if so , what’s something you love to collect ?

🪷 — do you have a specific area you like to regress in , or that makes you feel safest ?

🌊 — favorite thing to drink when big vs. regressed ?

🫧 — what’s your favorite activity to do when regressed ?

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[areyoudreaminof]

Biscuits

Nyx didn’t have much of an idea of just how long he had been laying there. He wasn’t aware of anything. Not his limbs, or his wings. Not of the bed beneath him, or his room at the House of the Wind that he had escaped to. He certainly didn’t register his feelings. Nyx just lay there numbly, staring at the blank wall before him. The sun had begun to set and the last vestiges of light crawled back behind the heavy curtains that he had drawn shut. Perhaps he had slept, he couldn’t be too sure. He was so tired. The moods crept on him slowly the past several weeks. He was angry at first, lashing out at everyone about silly things, getting into stupid arguments with his father. Then the anger twisted into anxiety and sadness, suddenly. Panic balled itself up into sobs in his chest that threatened to release at any time, which they did when he was alone in his room. 

Tired of his mother asking him constantly what was wrong, Nyx found the sadness gone one day, like a soap bubble popping. Instead, a buzzing numbness had settled into his head and chest. Letters from his Day Court cousins sat unopened on his desk, he couldn’t seem to stomach their happiness and he had stopped writing all together.  He had slogged through the past several days in a blur, but today his father confronted him about his countenance. Nyx sat and stared blankly at the wall as his father lectured him. When it was over, he got up and flew to the House without a word. The afternoon sun was still high, and he dragged his body towards his room at the back of the house. If anyone knew he was there, they hadn’t disturbed him. 

The trim moulding along the ceiling didn’t move as Nyx stared at it. Somewhere, very far away, the door behind him creaked. Nyx squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to sleep so whoever it was would leave him alone. 

Something soft landed on the bed, while the smell of chocolate and the sounds of soft breathing crept towards him. The bedside lamp flicked on. Bracing himself, Nyx cracked one eye open. Ori, his four year old cousin, stood in front of him with a soggy chocolate-chip scone in her hand and a concerned look on her face. Her cat, Pudding crept down from his shoulder, his green eyes wide. 

“How did you know I was here?” Nyx mumbled. 

“House told me,” Ori climbed her way up onto the bed with one hand, crumbs scattering all over the duvet as she sat in front of him. “What’s wrong, Nyxie?” her voice was hushed. 

“Dunno, just sad I guess. House talks?” 

Ori nodded, “House said you went in your room. I got you somefing to eat ‘cause you missed dinner.” she held out the scone, misshapen and melted in her stubby fingers.

 Nyx wasn’t hungry, he hadn’t eaten much in days, but he ate the scone anyway. It made Ori happy. He reached over her, gulping down the water that the House had now provided. 

"Does anyone else know I'm here," Nyx asked.

"Mama knows, but Papa doesn't yet. Mama will tell him in a little bit. Why are you sad?” Ori asked, her owlish blue eyes were soft and riddled with concern he didn’t deserve, “Are you in trouble?” 

Nyx shook his head as he sunk lower into himself, curling his wings behind him and drawing up his knees. “I’m not sure,” he repeated, “it just came one day and hasn’t really gone away.” 

“Mama calls them down days, she says they come and you gotta be ready,” Ori nodded sagely, “lots of sleep and treats. And a baff, to get the sadness off." She checked off an invisible list, like a little winged librarian. 

Nyx gave a half hearted laugh which turned into a sputter of surprise as Pudding began to work and knead his paws into Nyx’s stomach. “What are you doing?” he mumbled, scratching the fluffy cat under his chin. 

“Makin’ biscuits!” Ori giggled, “he’s trying to get comfy. Scoot over, I wanna get comfy too.” 

Nyx moved as Ori wiggled her way next to him, grabbing his hand tight. “I’m sorry you’re sad, I hope you feel happy soon.” 

“Me too,” Nyx swallowed a lump of tears back into his throat, but they escaped out of his eyes anyway. He began to sob softly, and Ori reached out her hands and roughly wiped away the tears on his cheek and hugged him, while Pudding curled up between them and purred.  The vibrations and hug began to calm him.

“Love you Nyxie,” she whispered, as she grabbed his hand tightly. “It will be a happy day soon.” 

“Love you too, Ori.” and sleep took them both into its embrace.

[ghostgirl-22]

thoughts on forcefem! art?

Oh god. No. Because he loves it. Acts all annoyed but the flush gives him away. When Patrick walks in on him in the bath and insists on helping him shave his long legs (“gotta be aerodynamic,” Patrick agrees just to get his hands on him). Patrick asks if he can dress him up when they’re done, pretty please!! It’s just silly, and he’s bored, please.

“This is stupid but fine,” Art says like he isn’t already half aroused by the way Patrick helped him lather up with shaving cream. Famous last words.

Patrick knows how to do make up and everything. As the youngest his sisters used him as a guinea pig. He’s even got the perfect little skirt, his ex left it and stole his favorite hoodie and basketball shorts he might as well get some wear out of it.

It’s so fucking short on Art, barely hides his cock. Arts legs are so long. Patrick doesn’t have any panties, but he’s got a pair of sheer tights from the same girl. Gets on his knees to roll them up over Arts baby smooth calves. Trying to ignore the obvious rush of blood to Art’s cock and the way it’s swelling up.

Ignoring also the tiny little breaths that come from Art as he rolls them up over his thighs, over his dick. Or the way he steps forward just a little… a silent plea for Patrick to suck him off.

“Not yet,” Patrick whispers, calls him pretty girl and gets to his feet. He makes Art sit on the toilet seat and straddles him. Using Tashi’s old mascara she left in his hotel room he presses Arts bangs back and lengthens those already long eyelashes. Blue eyes going glassy and dilating just from being this close. And with Tashis tinted lip gloss, another trinket she forgot to pick up…(or maybe Patrick snuck away) he paints Arts lips a shimmery shade of pink. Kissing him every minute just to taste it. Sticky delicate kisses.

“Fuck,” Art shivers, squirming under Patrick’s weight. Especially when Patrick keeps calling him “princess” and “angel” and teasing his titties. Giving them little sucking kisses too and then blowing on them till his nipples are taut and hard.

Arts so fucking eager now. Patrick can feel him. God. he can feel him. Nowhere to hide in that little baby skirt and no panties. Patrick’s pretending he’s not equally as hard, maybe harder.

“You’re my good girl aren’t you,” Patrick whispers, standing up. He can hear the door outside. Art’s college roommate’s home. An English major, steps away from writing Art a sonnet to declare his love. “Wanna show your roommate what we did? Ask him if you look pretty?”

Art flushes more. “No, Patrick please,” he whimpers.

“Come on baby, you’re always talking about your roomie. How funny he is? You don’t think he’d like you like this? Pretty princess?”

“Patrick,” Art breathes.

Patrick chews his cheeks, his body is heated from the inside out. He knows he did it but he feels like he’s going insane looking at Art like this. Pretty isn’t really enough. Patrick can feel his heart pounding in his dick. “You don’t think he wants to fuck you just like this?” Patrick continues rambling. He’s steps away from Art. Plays with one of his nipples just to watch him squirm a little more. “You don’t think he wants to suck on your tits. Kiss your cunt.”

Art hitches his breath and looks down, toeing the ground, knees knocking together. Damp blonde curls falling into his eyes. There’s already a tear in the tights. He’s got his hands intertwined, just in front of his cock, trying to hide the way it’s lifting the skirt upwards, nearly exposing everything. The blush is spreading to his collarbone. His nipples are red, sticky and erect from Patrick’s kisses. His tight little tummy rising and falling with his anxious breaths.

God. Patrick doesn’t want to fucking share him. “Think you can be quiet?” He asks softly.

Art nods, eyes dilated, shimmery wet lips parted.

“Promise?” Patrick asks again.

“Mmhm.”

And Patrick rips at the tights because he’s lost patience and fucks him up against the bathroom sink with just a few pumps of liquid hand-soap as lube. Arts coming all over the skirt, spilling it in the sink in no time. He looks so pretty and debauched when Patrick’s done, eyes glassy, flushed all over, mascara smudged, lip gloss smeared, sticky kisses all over his throat. He’s grabbing at Patrick, kissing him wet. Patrick almost shoves the skirt up and does it again.

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person-being-blog-whatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

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(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

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THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[velvetvexations]

the thing about socialization + the idea that testosterone/passing/coming out or whatever else people have decided trans men should stop doing is "the thing that makes them an Evil Man becuase the Evil Man Rays are seeping into their unsuspecting heads, but they're even worse because they 'got to' grow up afab and that gives them 'female privilege'" reminds me of something ive seen some people do.

ive met quite a few people who consider themselves academic types and are, on paper, anti-racist. they can and will state that one's race has no bearing on their mental and moral capacities, and they find all the racist scientology things bs. however, when confronted with the 'problem' of actually interacting with nonwhite people (especially in contexts of trust, relationships, and gauging skill) they spew textbook racist rhetoric and then cover it up with "well, ii don't think their skin color has anything to do with it, but im sure that growing up in a Certain Disadvantaged Environment does things to you that makes you less trustworthy/stupider."

and it's a whole shitload of baggage when it comes to nature vs nurture arguments, and i guess i can't prove nor disprove the existence of the invisble force begotten from a specific upbringing that creates all those Evil People we love talking about, but actually my point is this: i don't think it matters to the people they're talking about. if someone flings stereotypes at me but tries to undercut it with "well i'm not saying that because of your'e [ethnicity im not sharing], that's silly. i just think that about you because if the way i think Society has treated you" funnily enough, im not going to care that much. they're not getting extra credit for that

and that's why in all this im like OF COURSE 'tmes' (by which both they and i mean afab trans people and sometimes intersex people) are upset! youre telling me that this group of people, whom we can reasonably assume were not comfortably out from a young age, have dealt with this society's bullshit when it comes to being percieved as a woman...and they're mad about being called basic, whiny, overreactive, stupider on average, soft, and liars about their oppression? man, i'd think so! i'd hope so! i wonder where they might have heard that before!

that's where all the insistence about reading theory (which by the way, a lot of us have!) falls flat on its face. anyone, 'tme' or 'tma' repeating their transphobic arguments have encountered a fundamental failure in how to interact with a group of people with baggage. this is necessary context and i feel insane becuase it's almost never acknowledged, we're just supposed to pretend that transmasc people were never trans? and those who bring it up are 'cligning onto femininity?'

i feel like that's also why we've had so many people say "they sound like terfs." i myself am not really comfortable with the comparison, but to tell someone that they have terf-ish talking points is, i think, not the end of the world. because i thought we determined a long time ago that the problem is the people, the terfs, it's that bs that they believe. and to spout the exact same things while claiming that "well, but im saying it for a different reason! im not arguing that all people i think do gender wrong should die because im a terf, i do it for Enlightened reasons!" again, no extra credit.

yeah but other people read "trans people AFAB have dealt with misogyny all their lives and continue to deal with it" as "trans women have a lesser relationship to misogyny" like bitch dat's a whole new sentence! DAT'S A WHOLE NEW SENTENCE!

[syscest]

Species-affirming cybersex. That is all

that's NOT all because I'm gonna break down these concepts and how they work.

species first. reffing chapter 2 of plural respect, system members have self-perceptions that can differ from the body and don't have to resemble things that exist in the outside world - and a shared understanding of this can help you connect. Nonhuman types often shorthand this as "species" to indicate something left field of human - but it practically encompasses impossible-human stuff like "human with a curse" or "human that's a wizard" and inorganics like "sentient computer virus" or "reanimated skeleton" for most use cases - anything physically impossible enough. if you're into shapeshifter language, you might prefer "form" - same difference.

with that in mind let's talk cybering. Cybersex in most of its forms is collaborative fantasy. You're taking "thinking about a hot thing" and extending it to include someone else over the internet somehow. Though valid barebones sexting can be purely something like discussing physically occurring masturbation, it usually involves constructing a scene of some kind and (though its rarely admitted) you're basically collaboratively writing smut fanfiction about you and your hookup.

I think breaking the "this is weird" glass is critical to engage with this properly and prevent mystifying it. yes you are writing self insert oc fiction with a friend over the internet, yes you're gonna be horny about it. and yes omg you DO get to choose the tense case and perspective you prefer to write in this is huge and nobody says it.

Furry ERP communities (owing to a common layer of seperation between the selves) often use third person language, refer to sonas by name, and put dialogue in quotes: <confused, she pokes her friend's arm, "Hello?" she whispers, "Anyone home?"> etc etc, providing a clear seperation between OOC and not. You might find this stiff or impersonal or booky - and there's a tonne of variation you can apply to see if it fixes that:

per-sender first+second person pronouns:

qualify actions instead of dialogue: <[she pokes her friend's arm] hello? is anyone home?]> (notably removes the hard OOC separation, which can enable chitchat)

both: <[I poke your arm] hello? is anyone home?>

+ avoiding self-references where possible: <*pokes your arm* hello? is anyone home?>

So sexting gives you a canvas, and because it's collaborative smut writing, it really doesn't require you to adhere to what regular humans do and look and feel like. You can write directly about your metaphysical forms interacting because you're literally out here playing pretend for fun.

It definitely works for some people and doesn't for others, but don't get caught in "what do I write". you can't focus on cybersex being *good*, focus on silly little whims and suggesting whatever comes to your head - start by finishing the sentence "if I had you in a room right now, I'd __". Its a silly little playpen for exploring eachother's sexuality and relationship to themself, just be nice to eachother and run with it.

And, yknow, affirming? well, as long as you communicate well, take the standard safety measures you would for any kink scene, and understand consent applies just as much when you're acting out text - then you can do/pretend/play/perform all kinds of stuff via text cybersex you can't do in-person. It's a great way to connect with these parts of yourself and resulting tendencies, and acquire stupid fantastical kinks about it. All new weird ways to be found (find yourself?) attractive.

Ok. well. unrelated tangent. you CAN do it in person. invoking weird nonhuman or otherwise metaphysical junk in bed is not strictly typing only - for one you can literally bring your phone TO bed and do mixed-media sex where you get to sext *and* get handsy, but that's not even the point. Sexting might make you a sex-fanfic-author but don't forget you can be a sex-wrestler/sex-theatre-performer too - talk to your hookup about the impossible things you'd like to do, and then do things that physically resemble them and you can both enjoy filling in the blanks. Your brain WILL help, if you're thinking about picking someone up with your tentacles and you use your body's arms, you'll naturally want to move them in a different kind of way, and you'll both pick up on it. The more you engage, the more it comes through in how you move, the more your friend gets to pick up on. Hell, you can even check verbally if you're understanding things right - "is that your arm" etc etc. It's a more complicated, subtextual language, but it can be a LOT of fun.

Anyway, species-affirming cybersex :)

[yazzwrites6962]

please write more of your niragi fanfic!! i really loved it and im addicted to your writing!! 💗💗

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part Three

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part Two: Here

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Not much Niragi is mentioned in this chapter. It's mostly you, Chishiya, and Kuina bonding! I know this chapter is pretty short. I promise I'm working on more! I should have the next chapter for this out pretty soon. I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: A little angsty

Summary: After your last game, you're left swirling with the pain of betrayal. Luckily, you have Kuina and Chishiya to help you recover.

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: OOC Chishiya and Niragi, talk of injury, blood, and betrayal

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Trust and loyalty. The two most difficult things to find in the Borderlands. In a world of betrayal and death, rarely anyone was stupid enough to whole-heartedly believe in the good of another person.

Except, you did.

You trusted Niragi, for some silly reason. Despite all the warnings, you had faith in him. When you called out to him for help, you believed he would he there to give it to you.

Then you watched him walk away. As your blood ran down your arms and you were so close to making it out, you watched him turn his back on you. It was only a matter of seconds now before death would find you. It was sickening. The pit in your stomach felt bottomless.

You couldn't just wait to die. You had to keep going. You were so close, even without Niragi's help. Maybe you could still make it. You pushed yourself further, the barbs on your rope digging into your soft flesh as you reached for safety.

You couldn't see. You couldn't breathe. There was only pain. The sting of betrayal made it no easier to endure, but somehow, you endured. You clawed your way to the top, finally completing the deathly challenge, without the help of the man you thought was your friend.

You hazily found your key and pushed through your door. Your mind was foggy, and you couldn't remember much. You could only hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Then, your vision went black. Yet, your heartbeat endured.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You felt your soft sheets beneath you as an echo of hushed voices surrounded you. Your body ached, and your head felt heavier than usual. Your eyes peeked open, and you were thankful to find yourself in your room with Chishiya and Kuina by your sides.

"Y/N!" Kuina cried, seeing your eyes open a crack. You attempt to sit up, putting pressure on your injured palm. The pain is excruciating, and you fall onto your back once more. Kuina gingerly helps you sit up, positioning you against the headboard.

You're covered in bandages. Around your chest, neck, arms, and legs. You feel almost like a mummy. Memories come flooding back to you. Hazy, but painful memories.

"Shinji! Did he make it out?" You suddenly recall the young boy who you had grown fond of during your game. Kuina and Chishiya give you a confused look, as if not really knowing who you're referring to. Of course, they wouldn't know. The Beach is filled with hundreds of people.

"What happened during your game?" Chishiya inquired calmly. "You lost a great amount of blood. Luckily your injuries were nowhere near fatal."

"Did you patch me up?" You study the wrappings around your body. They look clean. Professionally done. Chishiya shrugged, as if not really wanting to answer your question. "My game... It had three stages. I got these from the last one. I had to... I had to climb a rope that resembled barbed wire. I tried to wrap up my hands, but it didn't work exactly."

"I'm just glad you made it out." Kuina sighed. How did you make it out? You don't remember much. Only the pain and frustration you felt as you hoisted yourself up the rope. You vaguely recall the key, and your bloody fumbling hands pushing through your door seconds before the game was over.

"Niragi. He made it out, right?" You ask, your voice sounding weak. He left you there, struggling. Why? Why would he betray you like that? Just when you'd thought you were getting through to a softer side of him.

"He's the one who brought you back." Chishiya spoke up. "He carried you back to your room while you were unconscious." Kuina nodded, leaning forward to add on to Chishiya's statements.

"Chishiya and I noticed him hauling you up the stairs. We followed you guys all the way back here. We thought maybe he was going to... Do something to you, but no. He just left you here with us."

You hum, not revealing what had happened between you and Niragi during the game. Silence filled the room as your mind raced. Chishiya stared at you quizzically.

"Are you hungry?" Kuina stood, picking up a plate from the table in the corner of your room. "You missed breakfast, and lunch. We didn't want to wake you, but we brought you food."

"Thanks." You muttered softly, taking the plate from her. The food was cold, but you didn't have much of an appetite anyway. "You guys are great friends. I appreciate you." Kuina uncomfortably shifted, glancing at Chishiya. He stood; his hands hidden in his pockets as usual.

"We will give you space to rest." He said, removing a hand from his pocket to wave Kuina towards the door. "Should you need anything, you know where to find us."

With that, the pair exit your room. You're alone, with a pile of cold food and a sore body. You now understand that you can't fully trust Niragi, as much as you wanted to.

Yet, you would've never guessed the conversation going on right outside your door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Chishiya..." Kuina whined as your door shut. She didn't need to elaborate further on her thoughts. Chishiya already knew what she was going to say.

"We do not need to discuss this here." He began walking down the hallway, Kuina trailing behind him. She twiddled with her fingers nervously.

"She's nice. She's a good person. We can find someone else. Anyone else. You pick anyone else, and I promise I'll just go along with it." She pleaded.

"Kuina." Chishiya scolded, glaring at her. "We can explore your proposition. Just not here." Kuina's face lit up, now knowing that Chishiya was considering using someone else for the plan.

"Thank you." She sighed with relief, recalling your limp, fragile body being carried back to your room. She simply couldn't betray your trust like that.

"I don't consider it for your sake." Chishiya replied shortly. Kuina's better judgement told her not to question what this meant.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It felt like you'd been couped up in your room for an eternity. Kuina would bring you meals, and Chishiya often checked on your bandages. Fortunately, he claimed you were "healing nicely". All you had to pass the time were a couple of books and a sketchpad.

"I'm bored." You complained while shoveling food into your mouth. "I feel fine enough to walk and all. Can't I just go out and enjoy the sun by the pool?"

"Swallow your food before you begin speaking." Chishiya rolled his eyes. "Your wounds aren't entirely healed. While you are making good progress, it could still get infected. Imagine that disgusting pool water making its way into your bandages."

"The things people do in that pool are disgusting." Kuina sticks her tongue out, slumping beside you on the bed. "I can't even imagine what kind of germs are in that water. Does anyone even clean the pool?"

"Tatta does." Chishiya adds. In the past few days, he has grown slightly more talkative than usual. You find it pleasant to see Chishiya opening up more.

"I don't have to go by the pool. Just on a walk, or something." You finally swallow your mouthful of food. "I promise I'll be careful, and I won't run into any trouble."

"Why do you try to appeal to us?" Chishiya raises an eyebrow. "I'm not your keeper. I only advise that you remain here and rest. Yet, you are an adult who can make her own decisions."

"I don't know." You giggle, shifting yourself so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. "I guess you two are kind of like... Parents? Mama y Papa, y'know?" Chishiya and Kuina flash disgusted looks at one another.

"Okay, Y/N. Maybe you do need some fresh air. You're losing it in here." Kuina chuckles, helping you out of bed. Had they not found painkillers for you, you would be in agony.

Chishiya left the room as Kuina helped you get dressed. As much as you tried to hide it under your cardigan, your bandages still showed through your bathing suit.

"You still look beautiful." Kuina smiled, giving you a gentle hug and trying to be mindful of your injuries. "Now c'mon. We'll accompany you on your little outing."

"We will?" Chishiya groaned from outside the door. You laugh as you turn the knob, coming face to face with the blonde. He looks as though he would rather be anywhere, but out on a walk with you and Kuina.

"We will." Kuina huffed, interlocking her arm with yours carefully. "Don't be such a party pooper. Y/N is still hurt. Besides, it'll probably do you some good too."

Chishiya shrugs, shifting his hands comfortably in his pockets, before following you and Kuina down the hall. The stairs were a bit tricky, but you felt incredibly accomplished making your way all the way down to the ground floor.

As you make it through the doors of the building, you took a deep breath. The windows in your room didn't really open, so it was nice to feel fresh air filling your lungs.

You and Kuina dominated the conversation, chatting about life as the three of you walked through the front garden. Chishiya listened and followed along from behind.

"I'm still worried." You say, watching people pass you by. "I haven't seen Shinji at all. You know, the boy from my game?" Your eyes drop to the ground as you continue. "I... I don't think he had the time to make it. He was so... Young?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kuina comforts. "It's cruel. What happens in these games... It's not fair. It's like all the best people are getting hurt and killed."

"I was unconscious the whole way back here. I don't know what happened. I don't know if he made it back to the car or anything." You sigh, carefully rotating your body as you and Kuina turn a corner.

"Ask." Chishiya finally spoke for the first time during the walk. Both you and Kuina turn your head to face him, questioningly. "Ask if he made it back to the car, if it's weighing so heavy on you."

"Who would I even ask?" You scoff. Your mind wandered back to who was in the car with you. The only person you really knew was Niragi, and you were terrified at the thought of facing him again.

"Him?" Chishiya motioned to somewhere ahead of you. You turned your head forward again, facing the direction he was pointing your attention towards.

Several meters away, stood Niragi. The one person you didn't want to see. His gun was slung over his shoulder, and he stared directly back at you.

Did he remember how he watched you struggle? Did he see the blood running down your arms as you reached to him for help? What was he thinking when he turned away from you?

And what was he thinking as he began to walk towards you now?

[ibijau]

heeey who's up for some more mdzs daemon au?? Today, wwx has a horrible terrible time of being alive again, and mxy's daemon isn't helping

Something was insistently pecking at Wei Wuxian's head and hands, trying to wake him up. A few times he pushed away his attacker, refusing to open his eyes. Being dead was bad enough, he didn't need to be awake as well. But the pecking always quickly resumed. 

“Pashou, leave me alone,” he grumbled. 

“I'm not Pashou.” 

Startled to hear a male voice coming from the bird, Wei Wuxian quickly sat up. Too quickly, perhaps; his head was spinning from the sudden effort, almost making him nauseous. Once he no longer feared it would make him puke, Wei Wuxian looked around for the source of that voice, and quickly found it. Down on the ground, he found a miserable looking raven staring up at him. A daemon, no doubt about that, although not one he had ever seen before. 

In fact, the entire room around him was unfamiliar. It looked as miserable as that raven, with his mangy feathers and his air of being underfed.

No sign of Pashou, though.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. The black swan had gotten so sluggish in the years after Wei Wuxian gave away his golden core, it often happened she’d fall asleep somewhere and he’d have to look for her. Back in Yunmeng, she’d often be napping in Jiang Cheng’s office. Since they’d moved to the Burial Mounds, Pashou had become less consistent. His silly, useless daemon.

His stupid daemon, he remembered her clumsily flying to his rescue when the fierce corpses he’d controlled turned against him. They’d torn her apart in front of him, and him soon after, although the most important part of him had already died alongside her. The way she’d cried, his poor little daemon who’d always warned him against this, whenever she could focus again for a moment.

His Pashou, dead…

Nausea hit again. This time, Wei Wuxian couldn’t contain it and vomited a mix of bile and blood on the already dirty floor.

“You’ll have to clean that up,” the raven flatly informed him.

Wei Wuxian shivered. It was always odd for one person’s daemon to address a human directly. Among cultivators it wasn’t as scandalous as among common people, since they sometimes used their daemons to communicate with one another. Still, it was preferred to only do so if you had already been introduced to the person, and Wei Wuxian most definitely didn’t know anyone with such a pathetic raven daemon.

“Who are you, anyway?” Wei Wuxian asked as he got up on shaky legs.

He felt weak, even by what he’d become used to since the Sunshot Campaign. His entire body ached, but most of all his wrists.

“I’m his daemon,” the raven retorted. “Obviously.”

“Whose?” Wei Wuxian insisted.

“His,” the raven repeated. “Ah, maybe you don’t realise… I told him that curse didn’t look right. He’s… There’s a pot with some water on that table. It’ll be easier if you look at yourself.”

Saying this the raven hopped toward an old table, and Wei Wuxian followed. That strange daemon was right, looking at his reflection told Wei Wuxian what no explanation could have convinced him of: he now inhabited a body that wasn’t his. Even used as he was to dark arts, Wei Wuxian nearly shouted in surprise, although he told himself that was mostly because of this new body’s ghastly makeup.

Shocked as he was, Wei Wuxian had to sit down. Now that he looked around again, he realised he’d woken up laying in the middle of inscriptions written in blood on the floor. His current body’s own blood, for better or for worse, and that was why his wrist itched and ached that way.

“I always thought daemons were affected by possessions,” he told the raven. “Every case I’ve seen before, the person’s daemon falls asleep or even changes appearance. But you seem fine.”

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” the bird scoffed.

“It’s the oddest thing about it,” Wei Wuxian retorted. Pashou would have understood. She was curious, like him, for all that she usually tried to rein him in.

The raven shook his head. “He said it wouldn’t be possession. He said he was offering himself to you, so it would be your mind in his body, and your daemon would replace me. I figured disappearing was better than going on like this.”

Without thinking, Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d heard about rituals capable of invoking a spirit and giving it a body, but he’d naturally never tried it himself. He’d always assumed the person’s daemon would be affected too, but it seemed he’d been wrong.

“I won’t be your daemon,” the raven suddenly announced. “You’re not my human, I’m not your daemon. Even if you have his body, I’m not yours. I’ll never be anyone’s but his.”

“Who was he, anyway?”

“His name was Mo Xuanyu,” the raven said with something unbearably sad in his hoarse voice. “His mother was the daughter a servant of this great house had with the master, and she had him with a cultivator. We were even in a sect, for a while. It didn’t end well. We're not allowed to speak of it anymore.”

That much made sense. Of course only a person with some knowledge of cultivation could have known a ritual of that sort, not to mention using it at all. But as Wei Wuxian checked his new body, he realised with dismay that it was truly very weak. It didn’t even have a golden core, and more of a crumbled piece of dust that wasn’t good for anything.

“Why did he invoke me?” Wei Wuxian asked. “It’s not something you do without good reasons.”

“We were suffering,” the daemon explained. “Every day for years, our life was terrible, never feeling any joy, never allowed anything good to happen to us. Our family, our aunt and some others, they mistreated us constantly. It broke us. It broke him. Near the end, he wouldn’t listen to me anymore. I don’t think he could hear me, most of the time. He’d even attack me when he was upset because he forgot we were the same person.”

Wei Wuxian shivered, his nausea returning. It happened, people harming their own daemon, but it was always troubling. He’d not always been patient with his poor Pashou toward the end, but at least he’d never hit her, no matter what terrible things he’d said to her.

“Don’t get me wrong, I agreed to what he did,” the raven stated. “I want these people who hurt us to suffer, even if I have to die too. My aunt, her son, her husband, and A-Tong. They are the price you have to pay to keep using this body.”

Lowering his eyes, Wei Wuxian observed the four deep gashes on his wrists. That was inconvenient. Since he personally had no grudges against these people, he wasn’t terribly interested in killing them, but since they were complete strangers and they had pushed his body’s previous owner to such a desperate state, it was also hard to feel much pity for them.

“It’s not like I asked to have this body,” Wei Wuxian pointed out. “Aiyah, I don’t even remember accepting it! But I’m here, so I must have. And that means we…”

“There is no ‘we’,” the daemon cut him. “I am not yours.”

“So you’ll fly away and live like a normal bird, eh?” Wei Wuxian snickered, as if the mere idea weren't repulsive to any sane person. 

Well, he'd done his share of repulsive things anyway, so this seemed tame in comparison.

As for the raven he said nothing, but shuffled awkwardly on his legs. This reaction, combined with what he’d felt within his body so far, made Wei Wuxian grow suspicious.

“How far can you go from your human, anyway?” 

“Pretty far, but also less than the normal distance,” the raven said, preening himself in an embarrassed manner. “We were kicked out of Jinlin Tai before I settled. We tried to do the ritual here, on our own. We'd seen others go through the trial, it didn't seem hard to organise. It… Backfired. I can go away, as far as I need. I went far into the North once, on the other side of the country. But being apart… it hurts us both as much as if we hadn’t done the separation ritual. It feels… Wrong when we're not touching.”

That explained Mo Xuanyu's non-existent golden core, then. Even if he had started forming one, a botched separation from his daemon would have ruined it. The part about not being able to stay apart, Wei Wuxian had never heard about. But of course that was because few people survived a failed separation, and those who did were so broken you couldn't ask them questions. 

That was why there were so many precautions around the separation, potions to make it less painful, family and teachers present to make it less traumatic. In the century or two since cultivators had started separating from their daemon, they had improved the process. Children used to die almost half the time, or so Wei Wuxian had been told. A high price to pay, but when the Wen sect had discovered it guaranteed a strong golden core at a very young age, they'd paid it without hesitation. The other sect had followed suit, most of them. Those who didn't hadn't survived long, unable to compete when the old method required twenty, thirty years to form a golden core, sometimes more. 

Wei Wuxian had never met before someone whose separation had failed. He knew some children had died from it at the Wen indoctrination camp, but he'd never met a survivor, although he recalled some speculations about someone he’d known back then. He couldn’t remember who it had been, though, and ultimately he’d lost interest in that topic, too busy with his own problems.

“You’ll have to stay with me then,” Wei Wuxian decided. “There’s no other way.”

“I’m not your daemon.”

“No, you’re not my Pashou, that’s certain,” Wei Wuxian retorted with cheerful disdain.

His beautiful daemon, even after she’d become diminished, she’d remained a sight to behold. The most beautiful black swan the world had ever seen, his pride and joy as long as she thrived, still loved and cared for once she was little more than a dead weight. A mere raven couldn’t compare to her, least of all one as ugly and pathetic as that one.

“We’ll see if it’s easier for you to go away now that there’s a different soul in this body,” Wei Wuxian suggested. “If you can, then go and become a bird if you like, I’ve managed without a daemon before. Otherwise, you’ll have to stick around. I’ve been in enough pain in my life. How is that for a deal… ah… what’s your name anyway?”

The raven preened himself. “I don’t have to tell you that. I’m not your daemon. We don’t need to talk, so you don’t need to know my name.”

Frustrated by that stubborn bird, Wei Wuxian had half a mind to grab it by the neck and shake it around until it stopped making things difficult. But this was another person’s daemon, and just that brief thought was nauseating. He didn’t want to ever touch that raven.

Maybe the bird was right. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to know his name. All he needed to know was whether they could work together to sort out their strange situation… but even that would have to wait: before Wei Wuxian could argue his case, the front door opened and a richly dressed boy entered accompanied by servants, intending to beat him up for something his body’s previous occupant had done.

That damn raven couldn't even be counted on to help. Perhaps guessing what was about to happen, the daemon had flown away the instant the door opened. Normally Wei Wuxian wouldn't have needed him anyway, but as he quickly discovered, even that little distance between his new body and Mo Xuanyu's daemon caused him considerable pain. Shocked by that sensation, he was unable to defend himself against his bullies. To the pain of separation were soon added numerous bruises, which were more bearable because more familiar. 

The rich boy and his minions left, but closed the door behind them before the raven could return. 

Laying on the floor, bruised and miserable, Wei Wuxian cursed the body's previous occupant, the daemon raven, and everyone else in the house. As he tried to catch his breath, his hand wandered at his side, grasping for something absent. Even as her condition worsened, Pashou had always felt it when he truly needed her, and she'd waddle her way to him no matter what. 

But she was gone now. He would never again hold her in his arms. 

In a way Pashou had been lost long before they died, of course. From the moment they'd done that core transfer… she'd been little more than another walking corpse at Wei Wuxian's side. 

It would be hard, living without even that much left of her. But Wei Wuxian had done many hard things in his life. He would manage this, too. 

At least, he would do it once that damned raven came back within a reasonable distance.

[moonbaby6]

Word count: 1631

Warnings: Murphy has a Nun Kink, Swearing, Oral Sex !F receiving, Fingering, Sex, Unprotected Sex(don’t be silly guys) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Being Murphy MacManus' girlfriend wasn't for the weak. Considering a number of factors including but not limited to: his job murdering terrible men, having to live with him and  his brother, and his kinks. You'd been through several, but this one? You were kinda flabbergasted.

Last night

You and Murphy were watching a movie in the apartment you shared with him and his twin brother, Connor. Connor was out for the night, and Murphy spoke up, "Have ya ever considered doing it ina confessional?" You looked over, chuckling at him, "No Murphy, that's just weird, and wouldn't that be considered disrespectful or some shit?" He chuckled too, "Probably, but think of how hot it would be....especially if you wore a nun's costume." Now at that you started genuinely laughing, "You're joking?" He shook his head, a mischievous grin on his face, "Nah, I'm serious love. Dead serious." You stopped chuckling and stared at him in disbelief, "You're insane, I'm not doing that." "Oh c'mon love it'll be exciting, spice things up a bit, yeah?" You chuckled again and shook your head as he got closer to you, "Please? I promise I'll make it worth your while." You debated for a moment, he looked hot as hell and you couldn't deny that the idea make you excited. You finally sighed, "Fine. Fine, okay. But where the hell are you gonna get a nun costume?" He smirked, "Already got one, I knew I'd convince ya." You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully as Murphy stood, offering his hand to you. You took it, and the two of you made your way out of the apartment.

Once at the cathedral you quietly walked in, looking around to see that nobody was around. Murphy handed the costume to you, nodding towards the bathroom. You took it and shook your head, still in disbelief that you were really doing it.

You came out of the bathroom, feeling quite stupid but also really excited. The costume was a little slutty considering you were supposed to be a nun; but it was clearly like that on purpose. You found the confessional Murphy was in and entered the small space; he smirked and pulled you close to him. "Damn lady, ya make a sexy nun." You blushed and he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a sexy, hungry, kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him so that you could clearly feel how excited he was over this whole thing. You put one hand in his hair, and the other held the back of his neck. He groaned into the kiss as your tongue licked his lips. You both opened your mouths and your tongues moved together in time with your lips; exploring each other's mouths.

He put his hands under the short skirt of the costume, gripping your thighs and lifting you up against the wall. You gasped as he pressed himself against you, his hands beginning to wander your body even more. You traced your fingers along the hem of his shirt before lifting it. He broke the kiss long enough to raise his arms and take it off; tossing it aside. You ran your nails down his chest as he took off your shirt too. He wasted no time in unhooking your bra and grabbing your tits. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, sucking your tits while groaning like he enjoyed it more than you did. He pulled back, searching your eyes as he unbuckled his belt. You tugged his neck and crashed your lips back into his. He undid his jeans, shoving them down. You broke the kiss, looking at him and smirking. "Ya like what ya see so far sweetheart?" You nodded, "Duh." He kept his smirk as he said, "You'll like what ya feel even better love." You bit your lip as he reached his hand between your thighs; slipping a finger in the hem of your panties and tracing it before moving them to the side. You gasped lightly, feeling overwhelmed with excitement.

He took his finger and traced your folds, "You're already soaking for me love...." You shivered, watching every move he made. He teased you with his fingers, tracing you then pushing one in slightly before removing it. "Fuck you Murphy, stop teasing me." He smirked, pulling his fingers back up to his mouth to lick whatever of your wetness was on them. "Oh sweetheart, the teasing is just getting started." He moved you from the wall to sit you on the small bench inside the confessional; then he got on his knees. Murphy began kissing his way up your inner thighs, holding them apart as he sucked and nibbled on your skin. "Oh Murph-" You moaned, gripping his shoulders. He slowly worked his way up your core, his breath warm as he hovered over you. "Please Murph..." You were so desperate to feel his warm mouth on you that  you didn't even care if you begged anymore. He smirked, "Anythin' for you love.." 

He slowly and deliberately licked his warm, wet tongue up your needy pussy; taking his time as he looked up at you with his lustful blue eyes. He wanted to watch you squirm at his touch. You tossed your head back and let out a whine as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his nose pressing into your clit as he tongue licked up and down; in and out. "Oh shit Murph~" You mumbled, your hands gripping his hair tightly as you felt the pressure building in your core.  He  took his index finger, slipping it inside you and curling it around to hit your sweet spot. You let out a sigh of pleasure as he slipped a second one in. He worked relentlessly as you tugged his black locks, whimpers and sighs falling from your lips that he found more erotic than anything else he'd ever heard before. Right as you felt yourself about to go over the edge he pulled away, smirking, his face glistening with you. He brought his fingers to his lips, slowing sucking you off of each one, "Ya really thought it'd be that easy? Nah love, you're gonna finish around me." 

He pulled you up from the bench of the confessional, his lips locking on yours in a desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He pulled away and turned you around, pushing on your back with just enough force so you'd be bent over; ready for him. You looked over you shoulder at him shoving down his boxers; his erection springing free. He smirked and stepped closer to you. He slid your panties off in an impatient motion before placing one hand on your back, gentling rubbing you up and down as he watched you shiver in nothing but the skirt. His other hand held his cock, rubbing it slowly up and down your slick pussy. 

"Ya ready love?" He asked, locking his eyes on yours. You nodded and he spoke again, "I want ya to keep those pretty eyes on me when I push into ya, yeah?" You shivered and nodded again. He slowly began to push his tip in, pulling it back out to tease you. You whined and he pushed back in slowly as your eyes began to shut and your head fell, "I said eyes on me love." He repeated, beginning to pull back out. You eyes quickly snapped open, locking on his. He smirked, and with one swift motion he completely buried himself inside of you, letting out a deep gutteral moan of his own. Your head fell back down as he gathered your hair in one of his hands; the other gripping your hip tightly. 

He began to slowly move in and out of you as you sighed with pleasure. "Fuck ya feel so good aroun' me." He groaned, his pace quickening as he began to pound into you relentlessly. Your moans grew louder as the sound of slapping skin filled the confessional. He tugged on your hair each time he slammed back into you; "Fuck yer gonna kill me darlin'." He said between breathless moans, feeling his orgasm building up. "Fuckin' come for me love, let go on me." He practically begged, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he licked his hand and found your clit; rubbing in tight circles, chasing your release for you. You gasped in pleasure, pushing your body back onto his with each thrust as you felt the familiar warmth coursing through your body.

"Oh shit Murph- I'm gonna-" Your words were cut short as you let out short, gaspy moans; his own deeply strangled moans mixing with yours as he yanked your hips back, releasing his warmth inside of you. You rode out your orgasms together as he rested his head on your back, gently kissing your back and shoulders. You sighed happily, weak in the knees as he pulled out of you and stood fully; pulling you back into his arms. You turned towards him and he kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the entirety of your mouth.

"Now that, was hot." He grinned, his blue eyes captivating you as you smiled back. "Yeah, it was. You were right." "Yeah? We'll have to do this again sometime then, huh love?" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows goofily. You rolled your eyes playfully as you both got dressed, "We'll see." He chuckled before opening the confessional door, letting you step out first. His hand found the small of your back as you exited the cathedral, walking side-by-side back to your apartment.

You knew there'd be plenty more to come in the future, it was never a dull moment with Murphy MacManus.

@ffsjustletmesleep <3

[sammyluvr]

✶ love you like that — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, tfem!roommate!sam, college!au, insecurity, kissing, unedited, 783 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : under beige sheets and a grey comforter + “you’re loved.” “but how do you know?” “because i love you.”

the twin sized beds in your campus apartment are a tight squeeze for two people. and sure, there’s two beds, but you and sam make it work for movie nights and the likes. maybe sharing a bed like this is more than friendly, but so are lots of the things you do together.

she’s just very shy, very unsure of herself. but she’s the most comfortable with you over anyone else. you’re the first person she came out to, and the first person to really support her too. it was terrifying, but being herself around you isn’t so scary anymore.

her head rests on your shoulder, and the movie on your laptop is long finished with the dvd already back in its box. earlier this year, she’d wished her beige sheets and dark grey comforter were more feminine. so you told her you really liked the minimalist look and were tired of your old sheets anyway. you gave yours to an old friend moving out of their house and in need, took sam’s so she wouldn’t feel like they were going to waste, and went shopping for new ones with her. so when the two of you are curled up in your bed, you’re warmed by grey and beige, like tonight. and when you’re in hers, the sheets are a subtle lilac and the duvet is off white with little flowers and ruffles around the edge. she said she thought it was a bit much, but you could tell she really liked them. 

she looks very pretty sleeping in that bed, surrounded by pastels and ruffles that match the white nightgown she wears on the hottest summer nights. that dress makes her thighs look so pretty, her chest too. you have a hard time not staring when she wears it.

tonight, she’s quiet. you can feel her hesitation, her tendency towards insecurity. you understand her, of course it’s hard. she’s tall with naturally wide shoulders and strong facial features. but you think she’s so pretty, likely the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. tonight she’s in sweats and a cami, it’s not hot enough for that dress. if it were, neither of you would be under the covers. simple grey blankets both of your legs instead.

“sam,” you murmur, finally shutting your bulky laptop shut.

“mmm?” she hums in response, trying to sound light and untroubled. you know her better than that.

“you’re loved,” you say without any prompting from her at all. “for you. you know that, right?”

she hesitates like she doesn’t know. it’s hard to remember sometimes, hard to feel like it’s true. her voice is small and quiet, like she’s nervous to ask, knowing you get sad when she doubts herself like this. and yet, you reassure her with enthusiasm each and every time, and it always means the world to her. “but how do you know?” she whispers.

you give a small smile, a knowing one. she can’t even see it from where she is. “because i love you,” you say simply. so simply. you’ve said it before. you’re the type of friends who say i love you. but usually it’s casual. you always mean it, but normally, it’s on the way out the door, a friendly love ya! when you won’t see each other for a little while. it’s said while laughing about something stupid, like it’s just an appreciation for the other’s humor and silly thoughts. the way you say it this time is very obviously more. she still takes it as something friendly. in a moment of vulnerability, you’d have said this to her as a friend, too. that much is true, but you know what she means and she’s in denial about what you mean.

she sighs softly, grateful for your kindness, but not so convinced. “i… i know, i mean like–”

“i know what you mean,” you cut her off gently, “that’s what i mean, too. i love you like that, sam. i swear it.”

sam’s a shy girl, but she just has to see your face to make sure you’re not being mean, not saying something just to get her hopes up and then dash them to the floor. you’d never do that, of course. she lifts her head and turns to you, eyes soft and a little pleading too. you meet her gaze with unending sincerity and a patient sort of love.

she grabs your face in both pretty hands and kisses you with enough force to nearly knock your head against the wall behind you. you don’t even startle, just kiss her back with enough force to keep you both safely tucked in the plush of all your blankets and pillows.

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Blake - Menagerie Design Critique.

Hiatus is over and I fricking missed making posts about RWBY’s outfits along with redesigning them so let’s hop to it! We’re coming back to talk about Blake this time around which is good since the last post about her had no redesign at all which was odd even for me, it was one of the worst outfits and I completely chose to talk bad about it than to try redesigning it.

Don’t worry I don’t like Blake’s Menagerie outfit either and there’s a redesign that I hope will suffice.

RWBY Archives

In my last post about Blake I did briefly talk about her Menagerie design as it was the basis of her Atlas design which was the topic at the time. I still stand by what I said, it was clever for the designer to hide Blake’s signature color of black with other secondary colors to represent her hiding herself. It’s not uncommon for characters who desire to not be recognized do everything in their power to hide the things that make them iconic and recognizable. 

We had Violet from Arcane in season 2 drenched in black than her signature colors of red/violet because she doesn’t want to be recognized, there was also Korra from LoK where she cuts her hair very short and wears Earthbending clothes when on the run in Book 4 to not be recognized as the Avatar. I appreciate them wanting to do something like that with Blake but the way they did it was goofy. A huge white coat on a tropical island would make anyone raise an eyebrow at her, make the excuse that aura regulates body temperatures all you want, it still looks silly. It’s not as silly as a giant purple fur coat like Ghira’s but a white jacket with large coattails is close. 

We had more background characters and actual named characters that look way more appropriate for the island than Blake did.

Hair

The switch to Maya was a change I didn’t mind, I’m aware of the animation software doing phenomenal work, it improved background sets and some of the character models for RWBY… some of the characters. 

They changed Blake’s hair a lot, she no longer has black hair, it's just completely dark gray, her hair also seems a lot more… brushed? I don’t know how to describe it but it just looks smoother than wild wisps like in her Volume 1 version. I also do not like how Blake’s cat ears are animated, I preferred if they just slapped Kali’s ears onto Blake as it looks way more realistic. 

The hair was really the first sign of Blake ditching black and being swallowed up in purple’s.

Primary Color - Black?

Blake fails in representing her color of Black simply because she’s not wearing any black at all. I extracted the colors of Blake’s model in completely flat lighting and it is solely “not dark-enough Indigo” on her. I can’t vibe with the concept anymore of Blake wearing white and purples to hide her signature color which in turn means hiding her true self anymore because she’s not wearing her true color to begin with! She doesn’t even wear her true color at all in the next volume when her running and hiding arc is over!

As she fails to represent black she also fails in honoring Yang’s color, the gold of the look is just so miniscule and it doesn’t help that it’s surrounded by purple rather than black, I felt as though it would have made the color pop. In my recolor version I don’t think I did it justice, the outfit is just that bad that not even color placement could fix it, but I am a little happy that yellow is more visible as it can look good when standing next to Sun or Yang.

Positives?

Yeah, here’s a positive, Blake without a giant stupid coat on her is chef’s kiss. The giant coat gets in her way of combat, I’m sorry but that coat is bad, not as bad as Blake’s Atlas coat but still BAD. When it’s finally gone the ‘not dark-enough Indigo” that looks like black truly pushes the concept of her no longer hiding herself. I cheered when it was gone because this was such good symbolism to show through her outfit, I just wished it was actually black than “not dark-enough Indigo” because it truly could’ve been a good outfit with that very small tweak!

Redesign

When I do my redesigns you guys know I try not to rewrite them, all I want to do is give a character a new outfit, not a complete rewrite of their story. I get Blake is on the run but there was no way for me to think of anything that can hide Blake’s true colors on a tropical island. Not to mention she does a bad job at hiding her true self as she's quick to go to her family’s mansion and right away expose her cat ears and herself to Corsac and Fennec. So, screw it, ditch the concept and let Blake wear black again. It’s not exactly combat ready, but practical enough to fight in if she either wanted a comfortable life in Menagerie to not look for trouble or to do a quick battle against a Grimm or something.

The ponytail is something I always wanted for Blake, I think it would’ve been a neat detail in paralleling her and Yang if they both wore ponytails through their Volume 4-5 journey. You can probably tell the tank top and shorts along with long boots were really meant for Blake taking inspiration from Yang as she misses her and whatnot. 

Do I think it’s too much black? Yeah, I do, I think more yellow/gold or white can help Blake not be a black blob as I don’t want her to fall into the same trap Cinder’s Atlas outfit does. I’m also reluctant if purple should have been added… I do love Blake’s color palette when it’s solely black, white, and gold but maybe I should have experimented more on color placement for this. I might do it in the future-

Conclusion

Blake’s outfit literally feels like an itch that needs to be scratched, I’ve praised the coatless version of the look when she got to Argus but the with-coat version when on the island and in Mistral looks ridiculous. I think it really could have worked if there was the slightest bit of tweaks to it. If the coat was perhaps sleeveless with no huge coattails along with actually having black than a “not dark-enough Indigo” I may have actually loved it or at the very least not mind it.

As it stands it’s just an outfit that has no black at all, isn’t practical for combat, and just a good example of what not to wear on a trip to Hawaii.

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[flipdswitch]

To me it has that Stand/Nen Ability sweet spot, it's not awfully overpowered, maybe even a little too niche and hard to pull off, but the ability fits with the individual so well it becomes stupid strong. It's a bit like Hisoka's Bungee Gum I've had some thoughts on Batman as a concept for a while, and Super Heroes in general. All in all super heroes sometimes feel torn between the crushing desire to ditch the silly stuff and brand recognition. On one hand, Batman is a silly man wearing a bat costume and punching people while endangering children, instead of fighting crime with those billions he has. On the other hand, if you take all the silly out, what you're left with doesn't look much like Batman. Is there any point in trying to fix all the issues you see on Batman? At that point why not make your own super hero instead? Well, they kinda did. Buff middle class guy fighting with retractable vaudeville hooks does not fall under the copyright of Batman. Add "bat fanboy" and a cape, boom it's Absolute Batman now. Same with Wonder Woman. Tall and buff witch warrior wielding a BFS is not Wonder Woman, but just like Thomas Wayne says in issue #4, you can look for the core and build it another way around. I think Batman has always been on a weird spot, just by virtue of being one of the best selling heroes in DC, a crossover with Superman and Wonder Woman is inevitable. And if you take that to any place that's not wacky, Batman has to rise to the job, to the level of Superman, with only a caped skin tight costume, boomerangs and a grappling hook. Hardly well armed for his crusade against crime, let alone against aliens. While somersaulting away from lasers and pulling clutch wins is well and good, sometimes I can't help but feel he could recruit some help from the other "powerless" super heroes, and build a safer, more efficient toolkit, that would allow him to help people better for longer. So yeah, power-suits. I guess they avoid putting Batman on power-suits too much so he doesn't become Goth Iron Man, but what was missing in the Batman Power-suits all this time as an unique gimmick. Pick a power, get a good enough sci-fi excuse and put it in a suit, works like a charm. Sure the Dark Knight Returns armor was cool and had some tricks, but it hardly had anything that screamed Batman aside from the logo. Batman Beyond's suit is a little too high tech for regular Batman, but it has all the tools to take down organized crime, beat up hooligans, and even fight some super powered antagonists and aliens every once in a while. He isn't on the level of the Justice League in power, but that gap is the chance for his other qualities to shine. All well and good. And so it is that someone finally came up with a cool gimmick to give Batman, and there couldn't be anything better than the cape. He's armed to the ears, still has the belt and wears armor just as many times before, but the real stand out is the cape and the fighting style that comes with it. It reminds me a bit of Spawn, which is good if you're planning on spooking people, but it feels way faster.

It all depends on how well received Absolute Batman is. The same way The Killing Joke and Jason Todd's death and resurrection are kept as background canon events in a lot of media, even if the media in question is neither focused on Batman nor explores the consequence of these events, the cape might eventually become a staple.

Honestly it isn't even that big a change to add the lil hooks to the cape. I really hope you're right and this becomes a regular feature of Batman in a few years, same way I hope they just ditch Wonder Woman's US flag swimsuit for armor permanently.

On the topic of Absolute Batman's Cape

So like, It's kinda the perfect cape for a powerless hero.

It solves almost every "cape problem", i.e. why the fuck wear something people can grab you by and drag you by, or If it can block bullets AND fire then it's minimum 30 kilos and shouldn't blow majestically in the wind like that?

I love the Absolute cape, (it wants to be a klyntar symbiote but that's another post OR three ) It does whatever a Batman needs.

It is a perfect solution to some pretty old questions about the character.

SO...

My question is, how long until mainstream Batman permanently gets a cape with shapeshifting or nanotech into the rotation?

It WILL happen, the only question is when in the next 15 years it will prove me right.

[egophiliac]

I don’t think we’ve ever seen you draw knight of dawn before 🤔 what are your thoughts about him? Or take?

I've drawn him a couple of times, just really little/in the background. but I should draw him more, I love this guy a lot! I have many, many thoughts about him and the way he parallels Silver...and also I think it is extremely funny that his ghost is stuck in a ring. especially considering where that ring has been for the last 16-ish years.

[pinyatapix]

how i imagine Minecraft Alex's personality to be like vs how i imagine Minecraft Steve's personality. duality of minecraft