#fem kylar

[degrees-of-lewsers]

What I like the most of my Kylars designs is their owl-shaped hair (or at least, that was what I tried to do)

I also like that I always draw male Kylar angry and fem kylar like she's about to have a nervous breakdown

[dolskele]

when pc says u can’t kidnap them 🥺🥺

[cheebdog]

Kylar after kidnapping PC and getting caught:

[gotboggery]

First tumblr post is rushed and GROSS!!! Major blood and period kink that’s basically the whole thing. f!reader x f!kylar

do not read if you don’t like gross nasty bloody fem kylar and enjoy if you love gross nasty fem bloody fem kylar

(edit bc a whole paragraph was missing???)

Shit. You didn’t have a pad. In a skirt, too! You could’ve sworn you’d packed one, right in the most discreet pocket of your backpack, so you wouldn’t have a repeat of that one middle school event.

You storm into the auditorium and shuffle through the audience back to your seat. Kylar was guarding the empty seat beside her with her life, and almost shot a hostile glare before realizing you were the seat’s rightful owner. You sit, lean in, and whisper, “Do you have a pad?”

She shakes her head, “Sorry.”

That confirms it. Kylar knows your cycle. Even if she weren’t charitable enough to bring one for you, she clung to you until your cycles matched up (and stuck much longer), so she should be on her period too. Ergo, she’s a dirty liar. Still, you mutter a bitter, “That’s okay.” through your teeth and hope you aren’t in a red puddle by the assembly’s conclusion to confront her on her dirty liarhood.

The assembly, (some meaningless PSA on deviancy), ends shortly and the students are dismissed. Kylar waits for you to rise, but you never do. “I-It’s time to go.” she prompts. A pointed glare is all she needs to sit back down. The auditorium is uncomfortably silent when the last row of students pool out.

Kylar’s pouting. You make the command very simple for her at the consideration of that stupefied look on her face, “On your knees.” She obeys, naturally. She could just see below your skirt, where your pretty white panties are stained red. She thinks her subtle lean into your crotch is discreet. It’s disgustingly shameless how her inhales become starving sniffs, how quickly she gets drunk on your scent.

You push your panties aside, and it’s like unveiling the holy grail. Kylar’s eyes go wide. It’s a bloody mess, of course. But to her, it’s sacred, it’s delicious, it’s divine, and it’s all her’s with the very simple, yet undeniably resolute command of, “Lick.”

Her tongue desperately prods at you, saliva swirling with slick and blood, so much blood, and it’s all her’s. She starts off strong – too strong. You grab a handful of disheveled hair and force it still against your clit to reel her in. “Don’t miss a drop.” you warn. She tries to say something, but it’s muffled between your legs. You feel her nod quickly against your painful grip. You loosen your fist, and she takes it as an invitation to dive in.

It’s nothing particularly sexy or satisfying, but it’s got passion. You tug that fistful of hair to try to guide her, but she insists on lapping at any area in reach. Her fervence is so demanding that you hardly noticed when she started gently grinding against your leg — and you doubt she noticed either, considering her focus on ‘not missing a drop’ — until she’s humping it rabidly. Breathy, hot pants make it to your clit.

She swipes a finger into your hole, praying you won't mind, pumping until her finger is coated in crimson. You moan lewdly, slapping a hand over your mouth. She’s much better with her fingers. Encouraged by your response, she slips another finger in, and your next moan is especially high. As much as she loves to hear those moans, this is a once in a month opportunity, so she opts for selfishness and replaces her fingers with her needy tongue again.

She hikes up her skirt and pumps the bloody fingers into herself. “Ah, w-we’re mixing,” she pants, and you can only assume she means the both of you are mixing blood. She keeps bucking her hips, grinding against your leg, pumping her fingers, faster, until a loud moan is muffled between your legs. Her fingers pop out and she licks them clean.

Blood paints her face like poorly applied lipstick. “Use me.” She breathes, “Thank you for using me.” She smiles with a certain reverence, flashing red teeth, and she seems all too genuine.

“Yeah, just don’t steal my pads anymore.” You huff dismissively.

“You don’t need them. You have me.” She snaps quickly. Great, she’s jealous of a pad. “I didn’t miss a drop. Use me. I mean it.”

You think of a way to put this lightly, “I think you have the wrong idea. This was a one time thing.”

It wasn’t light enough, because Kylar snaps sober from her blood high. “But didn’t I do good? I didn’t miss a drop.” She repeats, like you somehow misheard the first time. Her stare is expectant. Oppressive.

“Yeah, yeah, you did great.” You comply, though she was adequate at best. She’s still staring. She wants more. When she doesn’t get more, because what the hell else are you supposed to say, the panic sets in.

“Don’t go. You’re not trying to go, are you? I’ll do it every month. Everyday! Don’t leave.”

You try to stand, but that makes it much, much worse.

“Please, please,” Kylar sobs, nearly incoherent, “I’ll kill myself if you leave. I will, I’ll do it, I will.” She’s on her knees, grasping onto the hem of your shirt, but it’s not enough. She hovers over your waist hesitantly, carefully, like you’ll reduce to ash at the slightest touch. Her trembling palms rest gently onto your sides, and when you don’t dissipate, grasp on for dear life. All the while, pleas are tumbling from her lips, “I’ll die,” it’s more of a promise than a threat, and God, it’s convincing.

To make it stop — you need to make it stop — you accede, “I’m not going.”

It takes a couple repeats for her to hear over her own sobs, but when she does, she stares up at you in wonder. “You,” a hic, “You’re not?”, the gears turn, it clicks, “you’re staying?” She says it with such hope you’d think she’d escaped death row.

Your mouth is dry. You don’t want to say it, because that would be a blatant lie, not to mention the betrayal of yourself, so you nod. Quickly, to get it over with.

She wraps his arms around your waist and buries her head into your stomach. It’s stuffy, humid, with the tears puddling onto your thighs and hot pants on your skin. If she could, she’d really bury himself in there, embraced by your warm, pulsing cocoon of organs. She has half a mind to confess that, but she knows it'd just scare you away. Disgust you, probably; rightfully so. She has you, she thinks. She squeezes tighter. She has you.

[mass-angel-exodus]

Minors DNI || Age in bio BYF || DO NOT REPOST

[mrsabamiso]

Choi (PC) x Kylar at the beach 🏖

[x-gh0r3-whor3-x]

[metamorpheight]

i kylar’d out again.

[dolbog]

Kylar doodle! Babygirl please... take care of yourself </3

[mimimaww]

Yuri

[silverantagain]

Fem kylar I love you

[degrees-of-lewsers]

Stinky girlfriend

[calicoholic]

(WIP) Making Fem!Kylar at VROID because I'm cramming my uni work (and i just returned to creating Vroid models again!)

Not quite proud of it at first, but...it might change wdjwnff

I'm supposed to be doing my homework at personal development, but here I am at 10:03 pm doing shtick like this...Did I regret it? Absolutely not

Once I'm out of these bunch of work I might have to change the design again

[mass-angel-exodus]

Minors DNI || Age in bio BYF || DO NOT REPOST

What if instead of kylar the loner they were called kylar the gooner and

[mrsabamiso]

printed my little bunny kylar 🐰🔪

[dollya-robinprotector]

Worlds crossed! Gender bends meeting

A.k.a PCs and School LIs dress in Vietnamese student attires (modernized áo dài and áo tấc)

At this point, many have known I am Vietnamese, so I take the chance to finally do what I always had done when entering new fandom: MAKE CHARACTERS WEAR VIETNAMESE TRADITIONAL CLOTHES!!

I hope you guys can appreciate the beauty in our culture~🫶✨✨