#pure onyx

[its-not-ohneey]

Oni pose practise sketch dump (so its not only on UnVale)

[saneijeijei]

Vanni and his family✨ .................I HOPE THAT THEN MY OTP WILL NOT BECOME INCEST LATER PLS DEVSISTER

[cookierun-awesome-blog]

kind of dropped the ball on the cookie of the year at the end there i'm soooooo sorry /gen this is my make up post

[asterias-corner]

you are the sigma meal to my skibidi slicers

will you be the sigma to my rizz… ;3

[aaanyaajpg]

it is so obvious that I've to start overly obsessing over books again, because why tf did i find out Onyx Storm was releases 5 DAYS AGO?!!! LIKE WHAT DO U MEAN IT HAS BEEN RELEASED N IVEN'T READ IT YET?!

[arc-angel-o]

Wait wait wait... Onyx Equinox Treasure Planet AU... Do you see it? Yeah, Izel finds the map and then...

[marionsinspirations]

[asterias-corner]

i think I’d die for him actually

So anyway where's this show's fandom hiding

(screenshot version below)

[starrdio]

No bc Trollz Fast Trollz Furious did my girl Sapphire so dirty actually. There was no reason for that plot to involve her being a homewrecker 😭😭 why not just have Shale and Mica be the 'bad kids' that Sapphire thought were so cool and wanted to be their friends? Exact same conflict minus the boyfriend stealing that added nothing like what about the following conflicts would change. They can still set her up and take advantage of her and she could still be a bitch to the bffls.

Especially immediately after The Big Test?? She feels like shit n her friends were making fun of her for being a giganerd but then whoa these two really cool rebels actually LIKE hearing her rattle on about physics? AND SHE'D GET TO TINKER WITH THEIR SCOOTS AND BE PART OF THIS COOL SPORT?! Yeah fuck off Amethyst these people are cool as hell (womp womp the set up and end are the exact same).

None of the girls are angels but they really made Sapphire arguably the worst for nothing but 'he's a guy and she's a girl so she's gonna wanna date him'. Booooooooooo

[rupymerwar]

Elevate Your Style with Timeless Elegance: Unveiling the Allure of Women's Fashion in Canada

Introduction:

In the vibrant realm of women's fashion, Canada stands out as a hub for style enthusiasts seeking a perfect blend of sophistication and contemporary trends. Among the myriad of fashion elements gaining prominence, the Blue Onyx Bustier has emerged as a captivating choice for those who appreciate both elegance and modern flair.

Pure Collection: A Symphony of Purity and Style

Explore the ethereal charm of the Pure Collection, a line of apparel that effortlessly combines luxury with simplicity. The collection transcends trends, offering timeless pieces that resonate with the discerning tastes of Canadian fashionistas. Within this curated selection, the allure of the Blue Onyx Bustier takes center stage, showcasing a perfect fusion of classic design and modern aesthetics.

Long Skirts For Women: Embrace Effortless Grace

For the fashion-forward woman, the allure of Long Skirts For Women cannot be overstated. These versatile pieces are not merely garments; they are statements of individuality and grace. Picture yourself strolling through the streets of Canada in a flowing, full-length skirt, exuding confidence and style. It's a fashion journey that captivates and empowers, capturing the essence of contemporary elegance.

Unveiling the Allure: The Blue Onyx Bustier

At the heart of this fashion narrative lies the captivating Blue Onyx Bustier. Crafted with precision and an acute sense of design, this piece seamlessly marries boldness with sophistication. The deep, enchanting blue hue of the onyx captivates the imagination, making it a versatile choice for both formal and casual occasions. Pair it with one of the stunning Full Length Skirts For Women from the Pure Collection, and you've created a head-turning ensemble that embodies the essence of modern femininity.

A Glimpse into Women's Fashion in Canada

As we delve deeper into the world of women's fashion in Canada, it becomes evident that diversity and individuality are celebrated. The fashion landscape in this country is a tapestry of influences, each thread contributing to the rich cultural fabric. The preference for pieces like the Blue Onyx Bustier and the allure of full-length skirts reflects the fusion of global trends with the unique style sensibilities of Canadian women.

Conclusion:

In the ever-evolving tapestry of women's fashion in Canada, certain elements endure the test of time. The Blue Onyx Bustier, nestled within the esteemed Pure Collection, and the timeless appeal of Long Skirts For Women serve as testaments to the enduring allure of classic elegance. As you navigate the diverse fashion landscape in Canada, let these keywords guide you towards a wardrobe that seamlessly blends sophistication, individuality, and contemporary flair.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ shades of cool ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous, a part two, do you think you’d kill for me, one day? and a part three, ultraviolence.

˚ ༘♡ you stirred, the weight of consciousness creeping back in like a slow, unwelcome sensation. the first thing you noticed was the pain, not sharp, but dull and ever-present, pulsing from your leg in as a painful remnant of what had happened. your eyes fluttered open, and the room before you swam into view, blurred and unfamiliar.

˚ ༘♡ soft, warm light illuminated the bedroom, the golden glow radiating off polished wood and gilded accents. the room was lavish beyond imagination. silk curtains hung in folds along the high windows, their rich, deep hue a stark contrast to the sterile white sheets covering you. the bed beneath you was impossibly soft, its headboard ornate and meticulously carved.

˚ ༘♡ it didn’t feel real.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze dropped to your leg, your breath hitching at the sight of thick, pristine bandages wrapped around your injured knee. the ache was dulled, numbed, and for a minute you thought it was a dream, until the frigid tug of an iv in your arm brought you fully into reality. clear tubing snaked its way from the crook of your elbow to a stand beside the bed, the consistent drip of fluid into your veins the only sound in the unnerving quiet.

˚ ༘♡ panic set in as you scanned the room for answers. sleek medical monitors blinked softly in the corner, their digital hum an eerie companion to the slow rhythm of your heartbeat displayed on the screen. the pure cleanliness of it all, no blood, no chaos, no grimy stairwells, was jarring.

˚ ༘♡ the door creaked open.

˚ ༘♡ your body tensed instantly, your hands gripping the sheets as you turned toward the sound. standing in the doorway was young-il, but something about him was different. he was dressed head to toe in onyx-black now, the sharp lines of his attire immaculate, his presence nearly unrecognizable.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as a sensation of horror surged through your body. you struggled to push yourself up, wincing as the motion sent a jolt of pain through your leg. “you bastard,” you spat, your voice hoarse and trembling with both fury and anguish. “what the hell is this? what did you do?”

˚ ༘♡ his expression was undisturbed, his face composed, as though he hadn’t betrayed you, shot you, and left you to bleed out. his voice was soft when he spoke, almost gentle. “you’re safe now.”

˚ ༘♡ safe? the word felt like an insult, a mockery of everything he had done. “safe?” you snapped, your voice rising despite the weakness in your body. “you shot me! you killed them! where are jung-bae and gi-hun? what happened to them?”

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause heavy with unspoken truths. “their fate… isn’t yours to worry about,” he said at last, his tone measured, deliberately vague. the non-answer only stoked the fire of your anger, your hands clenching into fists.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t give me that nonsense,” you grimaced. “tell me what happened to them!”

˚ ༘♡ his gaze softened, as if he pitied you. it made your stomach twist. “you’ll have your answers in time,” he said evenly. “but for now, there’s something more important you need to understand.”

˚ ༘♡ your chest heaved with ragged breaths as you glared at him, the venom in your gaze meeting his unnervingly tranquil demeanor. “and what’s that?”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, his shadow stretching across the floor, enveloping you in its reach. “my name isn’t young-il,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an undertone that made your pallid skin crawl. “it’s hwang in-ho. i am the front man, the overseer of these games.”

˚ ༘♡ his words hit you as though it was a physical blow, the weight of their meaning sinking in too slowly, too horribly. your jaw slackened as confusion, revulsion, and fear collided within you. you shook your head, as if denying the truth could erase it.

˚ ༘♡ “no,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “no, that can’t be…”

˚ ༘♡ “it is,” he interrupted, his tone kind, almost soothing, as though he were breaking news to a child. “i know it’s a lot to process, but it’s the truth. everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve seen, it all leads back to me.”

˚ ༘♡ his serenity, his gentleness, only made it worse. you stared at him, horrified, unable to reconcile the man before you with the one who had saved your life, who had stood by your side, who you thought you could trust. your heart pounded in your chest, a desperate beating of denial as his revelation sent cracks through your already fragile world.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your mind frantically trying to stitch together some coherent explanation for what he was saying. every word felt like a jagged shard, cutting into what little remained of your trust. the man you thought you knew had unraveled into someone monstrous, someone you couldn’t even begin to understand.

˚ ༘♡ “you want answers,” he said quietly, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. his hands rested at his sides, his posture unnervingly relaxed. “then let me give them to you.”

˚ ༘♡ you didn’t reply, your throat too tight to push out words. the tremor in your hands betrayed the dread coursing through you, though you tried to mask it with a glare that had lost its edge.

˚ ༘♡ he let out a desolate breath, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to yours. “a long time ago, i was no different from you or any other contestant for these games. i was desperate, clinging to whatever hope i could find. my wife…” his voice caught, for a split second, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening. “she was pregnant, but she was sick. we didn’t have the money for the treatments she needed. i tried everything, loans, work, begging. nothing was enough.”

˚ ༘♡ you felt a pang of unease, the words pulling at a part of you that didn’t want to empathize, didn’t want to understand.

˚ ༘♡ “when i heard about the games, i saw no other choice,” he continued. “i thought… if i could win, i could save her. i convinced myself it was worth it. the blood, the horror, it would all be justified if it meant saving her.” his eyes grew distant, as though he were watching memories play out before him, each one dragging him deeper into a place he didn’t want to go.

˚ ༘♡ “and you won,” you said bitterly, though your voice lacked strength. the image of him standing victorious in those games twisted your stomach, making you sick. “so why are you here? why are you doing this to other people?”

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening. “i won,” he admitted, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t name. “despite my efforts, my win and the prize money came too late. she died, and so did the baby… our baby. nothing i had done mattered, not the lives i’d taken, not the suffering i endured. it was all for nothing.”

˚ ༘♡ the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable, but it was the coldness in his eyes that terrified you. it was as though the memory of that loss had hollowed him out, leaving behind only shards of the man he once was.

˚ ༘♡ “after she died,” he said, “i had nothing. no one. those behind the games saw that. they saw what i had become, angry, empty, ready to do whatever it took to escape the emptiness. they offered me purpose, a chance to rebuild myself in their ideology. and i took it.”

˚ ༘♡ his admission hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. you wanted to scream at him, to ask how he could justify becoming the very thing that destroyed him, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips.

˚ ༘♡ “and you…” his voice mellowed, and for the first time, his mask of stability cracked only slightly. “you remind me of her. not simply for how you look, but… the way you care. the way you fight, even when everything is against you. there’s a tender beauty in you that i haven’t seen in any soul for years.”

˚ ༘♡ his words sent a chill down your spine. notion idea that he saw any part of his late wife in you was unbearable. you stared at him, horrified, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all you saw was the unsettling truth of his sincerity.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t,” you whispered, your voice quivering with rage. “don’t you dare compare me to your dead wife. don’t you dare use her memory to excuse what you’ve done.”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t flinch, though something appeared in his expression, regret, perhaps, or something deeper. “i’m not excusing it,” he said quietly. “i know what i’ve become. but it doesn’t change what i see.”

˚ ༘♡ you shook your head, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words pressed down on you. the man standing before you wasn’t just a stranger, he was a nightmare, a ghost of the person he once was, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t reconcile the man before you with the one who had pulled you out of the fire so many times before. the one who had shielded you, consoled you when you were hurt, and risked his life to save yours. even as he revealed the truth, this sinister, unfathomable truth, a part of you couldn’t forget the way his hands had steadied you in instances of chaos or the way he had spoken to you with warmth when everything else had been so cold.

˚ ༘♡ yet that part of you, small as it was, waged a bitter war with your anger and disgust. you couldn’t ignore what he’d done, what he was. you had seen him kill without hesitation, betray without remorse. yet somehow, despite everything, the memory of his quiet acts of care gnawed at your resolve, complicating the clarity of your rage.

˚ ༘♡ “why?” you demanded, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “why did you save me if you were just going to do this? why did you act like you cared?”

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened, and for a second, the cold, calculating overseer seemed to fade. in his place was the man who had once held your hand, who had spoken with a gentleness that felt so real you couldn’t dismiss it entirely. “because i do care,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “more than you know.”

˚ ༘♡ you shook your head, tears threatening to spill. “you don’t get to say that,” you whispered, your voice quivering with misery and despair. “not after everything you’ve done. you don’t get to care.”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, the weight of his presence filling the space between you. you wanted to recoil, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, frozen in place. “i know what i am,” he said softly, his tone stable yet tinged with something raw. “i know what i’ve done. but that doesn’t make what i feel for you any less real.”

˚ ༘♡ “don’t,” you murmured, though the word came out weak, your anger faltering under the intensity of his dark gaze. “don’t try to make this about me. you’re just trying to justify…”

˚ ༘♡ “i’m not,” he interrupted, his voice firm but quiet. “i’m not trying to justify anything. i… i couldn’t lose you.”

˚ ༘♡ the confession hung in the air, heavy and morose. you wanted to lash out, to shout at him, to tell him that his words didn’t change anything. but instead, you found yourself searching his face, looking for the lie, the manipulation. and you didn’t find it.

˚ ༘♡ you hated him, but you couldn’t deny that you had trusted him, even cared for him, before the truth came crashing down. those memories, tainted by what you knew now, lingered like ghosts, haunting you in ways you couldn’t escape.

˚ ༘♡ “you don’t get to feel that way about me,” you said, though your voice wavered, lacking the conviction you wanted it to carry.

˚ ༘♡ “i know,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering, his closeness almost unbearable. “but i do.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could think, before you could stop it, he leaned in. the world seemed to still as his face drew closer, his presence overwhelming. you hated him, you loathed him, but the confusion, the anger, the lingering warmth of the man you thought you knew muddled everything.

˚ ༘♡ when his lips met yours, it wasn’t soft or careful. it was desperate, a confession in itself, and against your better judgment, against every screaming thought in your head, you didn’t pull away. instead, you let the infatuation consume you, the bitterness, the anger, the ache of betrayal melding together into something raw and inescapable.

˚ ༘♡ when it broke, you were left shaking, your breaths uneven as you stared at him, your heart pounding with emotions you couldn’t even begin to name. you hated him, but lord, you hated how much you wanted to understand him even more.

a/n: you all asked for another part so i had to write part four!! i had a cosmetic procedure that requires me to stay home for a few days so if you have any requests, this is the time!! i hope you all loved reading!! 🤍

[its-not-ohneey]

So, I came up with some lore...

It boils down to the world is a game played by players (wow). Every character, unless they're an NPC, has a player behind them.

So does all of Deadlock. They're all just people playing a multiplayer erogame and all the characters are their avatars, they're just all really into roleplay (it's why they formed a team in the first place).

Oni's player was unique in a way. He kinda just played the game to spend time with people and really liked the social aspect of it, as he'd struggled with forming bonds in real life. But, there came a point where he was doing okay in his real life, he had real friends, a job and was about to move in with his life partner. The game had lost it's luster and pull, so he deleted his account.

Somehow, someway, this caused Oni to get ejected from the game world and get dumped out in a different world entirely, which caused his character model to conform with that specific game's character creator and style. And he gained a consciousness. A consciousness that was now lost and confused over the new world's ruleset and lack of any familiar faces. He wants desperately to get back home, to reclaim his role and friends.

But, the thig is, no one is waiting for him. Sure, the crew misses the player somewhat, they did spend a long while together, but they don't know Oni. He himself barely knows who he is without his player.

He didn't do anything outside of hanging out with his friends constantly, engaging in fights and such.

He's just an avatar without anyone controlling him anymore.

He doesn't have a family.

He didn't grow up.

…

[suck-mein-pokeballs]

Onyx Lex and post Lionel Lex are the same person

[cookierun-awesome-blog]

prediction for the title screens for when shadow milk and awoken pure vanilla release. pv could also be in a praying pose tbh idk. very high quality doodles 12/10

[asterias-corner]

*sobs uncontrollably*

my live reaction:

[asterias-corner]

THIS IS SO COOL?!

THS MAKES ME WANT TO MAKE AN LU COSPLAY TAGSNDNWJAJAJSNS

I WORKED ALL DAY ON SKY COSPLAY ‼️ I LOVE IT SM-- ( watch the video if you want to see the back more clearly )