#tails follow the same patterns as their heads (darker colors).

[majachee]

SPRINKING ON YOUR SPRONK RIGHT NOW. I REDESIGNED THE BOYS. 🐎

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: top most number, your higher self / crown chakra

the number we are focusing on today is based on the MONTH you were born (ex: i was born in october as you see above that my topmost number is 10 because october is the 10th month of the year).

but what does this number mean?

this number represents your highest self. i sense you are reading that like "really, a.d., this is like sun sign astrology *insert eyeroll* - there are only 12 options and all of us have the same 12 types of higher selves??" in theory, yes. it's a question of whether you can achieve your most actualized self though. the middle, vertical line of the web is your chakra insight for this life time (7 chakras (they follow the color pattern as well), 7 numbers (excluding that center most one that we will discuss later on)). the topmost number in question today is the crown chakra. this chakra links to all the chakras below it, thus it takes a lot of energy to get them all balanced and to achieve enlightenment. when enlightenment is achieved, we know what our purpose is and how to better connect with the divine. what blocks your crown chakra and thus you from reaching your highest self is often stubbornness and/or skepticism.

so let's talk about some examples:

6 - the lovers / 15 (1+5=6) - the devil

the lovers (the card that represents gemini) are depicted by rider waite smith as two nude (they appear comfortable with vulnerability they present to each other) people - one male (facing the woman - ignoring the angels message) and one female (looking up to the angel - listening to the angel). a mountain scape (soon to appear in the hermit's journey) is in the background. an apple tree with a snake (again represents the bodily / earthly like we saw in the magician card) around it's truck appears behind the woman (alluding to the biblical eve and her temptation towards the fruit on the tree of knowledge). a burning tree (likely alluding to the tree of life; 12 flames - 12 zodiacs, flames allude to the suit of wands which is about passion and ambition) appears behind the man. between them is an angel (staring at the reader - meant to confront us) with red (passion of will - the will of passions) wings hovering in front of the sun (enthusiasm and clarity). from the angels head comes leaves meant to obscure the sun which may indicate the message from the angel is to not give in to enthusiastic wonder or instant gratification but instead to explore divine will regarding passion. balance the earthly tree of knowledge / feminine with the divine tree of life / masculine.

the devil (the card that represents capricorn) is also considered the darker side to the lovers card. instead of an angel between the nude male and female this time rider waite smith depicts a devil (he frowns at the viewer - confronting us to do some self-reflection and accept our faults) sits between them. the pentagram (which has various meanings aside from being linked to satanism - the golden ratio, protection, humanity, etc) appears between his down turned horns, his wings are so large they disappear beyond the frame, and his lower half appears monstrous meaning to represent the things we fear and demonize. the woman and man are chained to the demon's perch / seat. the woman has a tail of fruit (the fruit from the lovers card) and the man has a tail of fire (the flames from the tree of life on the lovers card). the torch of the devil flares up to his arm hoping to rid the image of the monstrous being while also immuniating the sins of the two humans (likely adam (the flames are on the man's side, who is looking down - this is meant to indicate he is not accepting his wrongdoings) and eve (not lit on fire, stares at the viewer unapologetic - she accepts her situation)).

enlightened 6s have an androgyny about them; they balance both the feminine and the masculine. they are vulnerable and trust those around them. their purpose is to give divine love to those around them without demanding reciprocity, to give mutual respect and healthy communication within all relationships. they do not fear confronting their self-destructive tendencies - they recognize unhealthy habits that they continue to do. they accept self-sabatoge and take on responsibility. they abandon previously toxic situations and beliefs to better connect with the divine.

blocked 6s are codependent they rely on other to fulfill there needs for passion and knowledge. they have unrealistic exceptions for themselves and for those around them. they struggle to look inward to see what is the true source of their discontent with life. they tend to be in denial that they are unhappy in life; they may even dismiss their own feeling of discontent in front of others. they rely on the material to bring them happiness and seek instant gratification in all manners of life. they struggle with being vulnerable with themselves and others. they maintain toxic and unhealthy beliefs and often chose to stay in situations that are not the best from them. they avoid breaking patterns and making unpopular decisions.

10 - wheel of fortune / 19 (1+9=10) - sun

rider waite smith's the wheel of fortune (the card that represents jupiter) contains various occultic symbols meaning to illuminate the mysterious and invisible influences of life. the wheel floats in the air showing that the physical (the wheel) is linked to the spiritual (everything else in the image). all four fixed (stable, determined, motivated, etc) zodiac images and thus the elements are present in the corners of the card: ganymede (aquarius / air - top left corner), the pheonix (the final stage of scorpio / water - top right corner), the bull (the first stage of taurus / earth - bottom left corner), and the lion (the first stage of leo / fire - bottom right corner). this stable winged creatures will the earthly wheel into the air where the spiritual realm lies. they are aided by anubis (staring at the viewer - confronting them about how they live life), the egyptian god of the dead, a sphinx (the symbol of the diversity of life / power of knowledge - staring at the viewer), and snake (the symbol of earthly temptations and challenges). the wheel itself spins the letters T-A-R-O are inscribed on it - the meaning changes depending on the spin the image on the card: TARO (clockwise starting at the noon / midnight postion) indicates the word tarot, also while being TORA (going counter-clockwise starting at the noon / midnight position) indicates the word Torah - hence the Hebrew characters (which are thought to be used to spell the name of God) found on the wheel itself. the alchemic symbols for mercury, sulfur, water, and salt are found on the inner circle of the wheel - these are the heavenly substances of alchemy, further emphasizing the connection to the earthly and the divine.

a nude child (staring at the viewer - asking if we too are free and innocent) rides in on a white horse holding a red banner on rider waite smith the sun (the card that represents the sun) card. their arms are open wide with their back to the face of the sun (which stares at the viewer - asking if we are accepting of who we are). the red banner flies passionately and colorfully among the sunflowers (which represent power, hope, positivity, etc). the child rides beyond the wall, reminding us that we are beyond what has previously vexed and impaired us.

enlightened 10s have strong spiritual practices that they use to ease negative moments and to enjoy pleasant ones. they understand the cycles of life and carry a great deal of strength and resilence. to better connect to the divine they must focus on what can be controlled by themselves and releasing everything else as it is in the universes hands (they must trust the divine will give them only what they can handle). their purpose is to find peace in uncertainty and accept change, embrace their inner child, and to become understanding of all situations.

blocked 10s they try to control the universe - they experience controlling impulses even in the great cosmic uncertainty (chaos, for them) of the world. they struggle with endings and often resist growth (kind of like a chick that doesn't wish to hatch or a caterpillar that wishes to stay in its chrysalis). they are uncomfortable with change to say the least. they don't see things as temporary but as permanent. they can't recognize change and/or wish to see immediate results - they are prone to pessimism.

12 - the hanged man

attached to a T-post upside-down in the rider waite smith tarot deck is the hanged man (the card that represents neptune). suspended one-leggedly by the ankle. his hands are tied behind his back and his free leg is crossed behind the bound one (the symbol of a cross roads). he stares at the viewer in a relaxed manner despite his distressing situation. the yellow beam around his head suggests that his relaxed state is due to the fact that he is enlightened by his new found perspective in his dangling situation.

enlightened 12s see things from all angles and are willing to hear new perspectives on situations and circumstances. their purpose is to find curiosity in all things, no matter how plain or "boring" the object or situation is. they are patient despite how uncomfortable the wait is. they find that they aren't bored, but they are rather at peace with the world and are excited for change to come (no matter how long the wait may be).

blocked 12s fight against their circumstances; they are unwilling to relax and accept the state of thing. they often force forward movement without listening to what other may have to say, in terms of advice. they may have a "one-track" mind that is rather dangerous. they get annoyed by delays and are unwilling to wait. they hate silence and are in constant need for entertainment from external sources.

that's all for today. the next number we will be looking at is the number between this one and the leftmost number we examined last time.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic." button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next! if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

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© a-d-nox 2023 all rights reserved

[foolishfoolsgold]

Immune system go brr

A few designs I’ve done since I had this mutated brainchild back in October. I have others like eosinophil and dendritic but I wanna redraw them. I was still learning the way of the cell creature back then lol. Image IDs under the cut

[Start ID: The first image shows the AU design for U-1146. The background is white with a gray triangle pattern. He’s wearing his usual uniform, but he has a rounded, noseless snout, long ears without holes, and his one eye that is showing has black sclera and a round silver iris. His skin, turned cell membrane, is pure white with faint gray striped that resemble the markings of a raccoon. He has a tail with the same colors, it’s long, skinny, and has multiple lobes on it. Who on the very end, and a few dorsal lobes along its length. Again, like a raccoon, the tail has those faint stripes on it. He’s standing and staring at the viewer with his one visible eye, with his left hand in a fist, and the other gripping a silver knife. There’s some text next to his head that reads: “Only has one eye, and it can’t un-dilate so he always has that big sauger pupil we see in the media.” Another text box reads “Some raccoon inspiration because the official art makes it look like he has an eye mask.” There’s a piece of this official art in the top left corner of the image for comparison, and in the bottom right, there’s my watermark.

The second image shows Killer T Cell’s design. The background has an orange-yellow triangle design. He’s standing with his usual uniform, head turned and arms crossed. He doesn’t have bones, though, so his arms look more like they’re tied in a knot. He keeps his canon skin tone and hair style, but his membrane has dark blue markings that make him resemble a peregrine falcon. He shares the basic physical features with U-1146, except his tail is thinner and only has two small lobes on the end. His tail is yellow, like his hair, and has an arrow pointing from it to a picture of a banana flavored Snack Pack pudding package, noting that his tail looks a lot like banana pudding by humorously noting “Is it worth it?” Unlike 46, T’s hazel eyes are made up of multiple pupils that coalesce like a lava lamp, and this is true for all future entries as well. Again, there’s my watermark and an actual picture of killer t for reference.

The third image shows Macrophage’s design, and a cream-colored triangle background. Macrophage has large, frilled ears, and a darker cell membrane that looks almost like light coffee. She’s wearing her normal ruffled dress, but instead of legs, she has long tentacles without suckers, built almost like Ursula. She’s covered in white patterns with ripple-like stripes and spots, resembling a cuttlefish. With her right arm and one of her tentacles, she’s holding her signature cleaver, dripping with red blood, which also stained another tentacle and parts of her dress, and the other arm is held up to her face in an “I didn’t do that!” pose. She’s accompanied by a picture of anime Macrophage and a microscope photo of a real macrophage, reaching out with its “arms” to some bacteria. There’s a text box under it that reads: “like come on I HAD to make her a sea monster, have you seen real macrophages? Look at this bitch.” Another box reads: “lots of cephalopod inspiration, octopus-like build with cuttlefish markings and frills.” A final humorous box says “it’s ok she just had to refill the ketchup at McDonald’s,” referring to the blood.

The fourth image featured NK’s design with a green patterned background, as are the following images. She keeps her skin tone and clothes for the most part, but she has a centaur-like build. Her black tank top is extended to cover her chest and has short sleeves for her first set of legs, and ends with a belt around her midsection to her green shorts. She has green boots on all four of her feet, and her tail is black with green splotches, and has lots of lobes, almost like that of a leafy sea dragon. She has army-green spots resembling a cheetah, and she’s smiling and looking confident, with her left hand in a fist. She has her saber in a sheath on her back, and a brown bag secured to her belt like a saddlebag. There’s an arrow pointing to the photo of anime NK from a text box that says “there is something about this SPECIFIC png of NK that cracks me up sm and I don’t fucking know what it is.”

The fifth image shows Helper T, who shares many basic traits with Killer T such as bipedalism and a two-loved tail. While he still has the creature features like the big ears and rounded snout, he’s race-swapped as a black man, and has dark stripes along his arms and face like a peacock. His eyes are blue, and he’s holding a cup of green tea, dropping a cookie in it. There’s a small figure showing that his hair (flagella) are each coiled rather than straight.

The final image shows B cell’s design, which has a lot of bird inspiration. He has a longer snout, plumed tail and ears, and big flat lobes along his arms that look like wings. His eyes are silver md his stripes are brown and green, patterned like that of a blue jay. He’s also holding his antibody gun. A text box reads: “Bird boy! B cells were first discovered in birds and are named after the bursa of fabrics, a thymus-like organ for B cells that only birds have.” There’s also a note that says “face shape inspired by the Hilda bird because look at him,” accompanied by a screenshot of the raven from the Netflix series Hilda. He has a simple, completely black design with a rounded face, stick-figure legs and small wings. End ID.]

[pastel-tyranny]

Wanna be a Fashionista?: My opinions on Fashion Dreamer

Long post of my thoughts, follow my Fashion Dreamer showcase: Dyxyg5yr36

I’ll say it right here right now, this game has a chokehold on me as soon as I opened up the main menu. The gameplay loop is very addicting. But before I dive into my many praises I have to talk about some of my gripes with this game.

First of all the lack of clarity; it’s good that they have the button prompts on the screen because oh lord it’s very confusing when you first start out. It’s no wonder the first quarter of the game is a tutorial! I mean yes there are useful tips are there in the tip menu, but some things need to be written out directly. Especially when it comes down to Online Events such as the current (as of right now) Fantasy Butterfly Fairy event. I had to get help from a few other players and online video guides just to make heads or tails for some of the mission prompts. I have a few family and friends who either have the game or are in the process of wanting to get it, I think a consecutive written guide needs to be created so I don’t have to explain for the billionth time to ‘press plus then X’ and so on. (Pro tip: Once you reach platinum rank, the credits roll and take a very long time. Afterward you unlock the final cocoon.)

The next con is a bit of a personal one, the lack of fashion item variety and makeup limitations. The irony of this one I know, but items such as gloves, necklaces, leg warmers, bracelets, suspenders, and inners are relegated to specific shirts, one pieces and shoes. As of writing this there are no; jumpsuits with long pants, cat ears, traditional tiaras, and long mermaid / ball gowns. And ironically a lack of male fashion too. While yes, we get to play as a guy there is the fact some of the girls outfits don’t carry over to the guys. There’s a tee shirt from the Type A body that I really like and think would look perfect for the Type B body and vice versa with pairs of shoes or one pieces. Makeup isn’t as detailed to work with, they’re mostly relegated to prompts instead of picking blush, eye shadow, and eyeliner separately. The length of eyelashes are also regelated solely to the eye shape you picked and are only customized by color.

My final gripe is a smaller one in comparison is lag hiccups. When walking around the different cocoons with a gazillion downloaded items can cause gameplay optimization to stutter a snails pace both online and during Solo Mode. Even if it’s as short as 3 seconds or a “Loading Please Wait” prompt while running around can occur. It’s just a small issue so hopefully down the line, the devs will fix that with an update. I understand there are limitations to the game as a whole but that still doesn’t deter me from playing. Now for the major positives.

The fact you can walk around and play as a male avatar! I am beyond happy, it’s everything I’ve hoped for. Not only can you put lipstick prompts and different color eye shadow, but you can use some of the more feminine looking hair styles on the more masculine looking models is truly amazing! Same goes with facial hair on feminine models the option you can do that alone is spectacular! Both models can share hats, earrings, and glasses too! The clothing designs themselves are whimsical, fun, cute, and cool! And knowing that they could drop new online events in the future with new outfits are always something to look forward to. Another thing I have to praise is the amount of inclusivity we have at the start of the game with afro hair textures, facial features, and darker skin tones. It just goes to show how far we’ve come and I hope that the devs can push that further in future updates and installments.

The ability to have as many clothes as you want without storage limitations is always major plus! Currency being relegated to just creating clothes makes sense to me. Yes it’s gacha based when it comes to getting rare patterns, however simply pressing the ‘like’ button on someone’s avatar can give you the clothes they’re wearing is very helpful. Especially during online mode when other people and clothes on the pop up boards have rare items. And people online can send you cute outfits, even while your switch is in sleep mode! This also applies to the show rooms, it’s great to see new clothes and furniture people get. I also like that this is a game solely deticated to walking around instead of jumping through menus like some other fashion games I know. I am also in love with the fact you can take pictures anywhere, the scenery in some of these maps are a sight to behold! Taking pictures in the photo eggs are fun, especially since you have a nice variety of stickers, filters, and a line of focus to fiddle with along with poses and held items. And finally I think the best part about this game for me is the many muses to see and meet. Whether they are a player or NPC, there’s no shortage of possibilities when it comes to the many choices of fashion. It gives me so much inspiration, and since you can make multiple characters (4 total) you can relegate specific styles to each muse! (Or at least that’s what I did, lol)

Now to address the big elephant in the room, does this hold up as the spiritual successor to the Style Savvy / Style Boutique / Girls Mode games? In some ways, absolutely. If you want to collect / make clothes, design your own custom avatar, and see things other people make then you gotta get the game! However the core of Style Savvy is its lovable cast of NPCs and story set in the world of fashion. And while none of the NPCs you meet have a large narrative to tell, there are a few to me that stick out and I love dearly, even if they’re one dimensional. I let the headcanons fester and make the rules up as I go. The only major goal is to reach Master Rank and get your brand up to the highest level. I heard rumors through the grape vine that a fashion show mode could potentially be added? But that’s pure speculation as of writing this.

So my final overall thoughts; as I said in the beginning of this post, the game has a chokehold on me. It’s fun, entertaining, and full of passion for fashion from the dev team that brought us Style Savvy. It scratches an itch I’ve had since the last Style Savvy game. And while it has its ups and downs, I personally think this is a pretty solid game for the average fashion sim enjoyer outside of the gameplay troubles. Thanks for reading all the way through and if you want to follow my showcase, the code is on the top of this post! :3

(Just for making it this far, I made a promise post that I would make a fashion dreamer version of Dominic from Style Savvy so I’m reposting the pics here again.)

[mushroom-for-art]

My mew oc Mud recently kind of redesigned by @lotusmew thank you I adore hims this is his new look (just credit where credit is due) meeting @phlurrii 's lovely ancient mew Meau

It was pleasantly cool under the treeline but still distinctly warm, the ancient mew roamed in search of berries to nibble upon, modern fruits didn't explode with an array of flavors like they used to having evolved to be mostly just one, but collecting enough and taking quick bites of all of them nearly replicated the same taste.

They glided effortlessly around a large tree with vines beginning to crawl up along the trunk half wondering if they should perhaps pull the vines off if the plant was parasitic in nature..

Meau pondered before their attention was brought to the sudden awareness of a psychic pattern, they stopped suddenly staring upon the, creature in front of them. It could have been some previously unseen psychic Marowak variant were the skull it wore clearly not its own, it smelt of houndoom smoke and dirt as it dropped some psychic held berries in shock at seeing her. She blinked quickly at them confused before their ears went back and a low but deep growl rumbled in the back of the others throat.

Meau quickly felt a snarl growing from her own throat in response to the aggression her own ears going back in response, the others hands bent in claw like emphasis held out in threat and Meaus own paws sharpened ready to strike if necessary. Both parties snarled growling and hissing digits flexing in emphasis, Meaus fur puffed out and the others hackles raised.

They continued to growl, muscles tensing ends of tails flicking in agitation, ready to see who struck first, leaves russeled with patches of light passing through gaps in the treeline as-

"mmmhhyyyaaa"

Meau quietened as her ears flicked upright at the quiet sound, a yawn, a kitten yawn for sure, the others hands relaxed slowly as they too stopped growling. Tiny blue ears popped out from the side of the others body as Meau stared in wonder, a mew kit poked their head out to look blinking large pink eyes at her and making a soft mewing as they crawled around from where they must have been clinging to this others back. A purple muddy paw caught the kitten as they attempted to float forward gently stopping and pulling them back holding the kitten to their chest, a second set of mews began.

Meau leaned her body to the side to look without approaching as the purple other twisted slightly to reach their long arm around their back to scoop and hold a second kitten, darker blue in color with bits of yellow with more curly fur. This one seemed less curious of her burying their face into the fluff on the others chest as they mewed, they leant their head down and chirped making various soothing kitten calls to comfort the youngling, Meau recalled herself making such sound when her own child was born.

The other regarded Meau again before they slowly turned, the berries lifted by psychic energy once more, Meau watched their tail unwrap from around boney protrusions along their spine stretching out into a significantly longer tail and tilted her head as she regarded them again. They didn't notice, looking over their shoulder and gave a warning growl that clearly meant not to follow as they flew away quickly.

Meau blinked after them in pause.

She pondered.

And she followed.

——————————————

None mask version cause god dammit I drew a good face I wanna use it

[senjuushi]

Hybrid Au Info (Antiques) — Part 3

Next part! These are some of the miscellaneous animals— the post following this one will also be a non-grouped selection. A lot of Chassepot's info is similar to Gras's... he's just (kind of) preventing himself from being as much of a menace. XD

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4] [Part 5]

George (Squirrel)

Physical

Small, upright, reddish-furred ears. They perk up when something catches his attention... which is very, very often.

Long, bushy, extremely fluffy tail covered in slightly darker fur than his ears, with a white outline and subtle gradients in the shade. It twitches and flicks when he feels threatened, and its positioning can be an easy tell for certain emotions.

Incredibly sturdy teeth, which come with an instinctive urge to chew on things. It's become an idle habit for him, especially when he's tense or anxious.

Much, much more athletic than he looks, and stronger than you'd expect. He never seems to run out of energy.

High caloric requirement. He needs a LOT of food to stay healthy, and his body burns through energy at a rapid rate. Easily stressed by a lack of access to a consistent food supply.

Behavioral

Food-hoarding and food-hiding tendencies, especially when he's under stress. Keeping a "supply" makes him feel safer

"Nesting" habits that are hard to control. He doesn't feel safe without the right kind of space to hide away in, and will try to make such a space no matter how often he's deterred from it. Prey instincts make open spaces stressful.

Naturally skittish and far more nervous than he lets on. Wary of potential threats no matter how carefree he acts.

His tail requires a lot of grooming... and he's not great at managing that on his own. Very receptive to help with the task.

Grows calmer and more lethargic when his environment is cold. Will whine endlessly about having to be up and moving then, in stark contrast to his usual hyperactive behavior.

Chassepot (Raccoon)

Physical

Long, bushy, fluffy tail that touches the ground when he’s standing. Tail is striped in pattern, with the lighter part being a pale, brownish-gray, and the darker part being almost black. He keeps the fur soft and well-maintained.

Relatively small, rounded ears covered in the same pale, brownish-gray fur on the light parts of his tail. Insides are dark in color and ears are quite sensitive overall.

Very dextrous and coordinated hands, as well as sharper, longer teeth than a human, and slightly pointed nails.

Relatively human-like penis, save for some aspects of the shape. It’s slimmer than what would be considered normal, and the head has a pronounced groove through the lower side.

Body is very sensitive and receptive to touch. Gets overstimulated easily by contact, especially from someone he's attached to.

Behavioral

Nocturnal, though he tries not to show it. Much more active and alert at night, but assumes others would find that suspicious. Forces himself to keep a diurnal schedule.

Nesting/denning habits that get stronger during the winter. Constantly has the urge to arrange a warm, semi-confined space to hide in… and resists these urges as much as possible. Gets sluggish and tired in winter, when the need is at its worst.

Makes a variety of inhuman sounds, from growls and chitters to chirps and whines. Very embarrassed by them.

A lot more territorial than he lets himself show. Gets aggressive and tense when his "territory" feels threatened, and will eventually lash out when pushed far enough.

Troublemaking tendencies that he does everything possible to suppress. Needs mental stimulation, and a lot of it.

Tabatiere (Skunk)

Physical

Small, rounded, dark-furred ears that are almost hidden under his hair. They're quite sensitive, both in terms of hearing and physical touch. Likes to be petted more than he'll admit.

Excellent senses of hearing and smell, but poor eyesight. It's easy for moving objects to startle him, though he hides the response.

Long-furred, bushy tail with a striped pattern of black and white fur. The fur requires quite a bit of care to stay presentable and unmatted. Tail raises when he feels threatened, though he strongly dislikes others seeing that reaction.

Nails are sharper and sturdier than a human's, and can grow into an almost claw-like shape if not maintained.

Highly insecure about the "smell" issue. He's not capable of spraying like an actual skunk, but people's assumptions sting. Knows he's often thought of as disgusting.

Behavioral

Cold weather makes him lethargic and sluggish, and comes with the urge to den up and hide until the chill is over. It's hard to work up energy whenever the temperature drops too far.

Mostly nocturnal. Usually drowsy throughout the day, which comes across as a laid-back personality.

While he has strong nesting urges, he forces himself to ignore them more often than not. That kind of thing isn't likely to be allowed, and he doesn't want to make a fool of himself, anyway... despite feeling much calmer when he has somewhere to hide.

Capable of a variety of inhuman noises— the most noticeable of which is a hissing sound that comes out when he's threatened.

His tail needs more care than he'll admit to, and it's usually a bit ragged-looking from neglect. Feels like it would be a nuisance to ask anyone for help with grooming it.

[scarletcitrus]

here’s mohan as a dragon to go with my pagan (expect more far cry 4 dragons, they are immensely fun to design) (immediate contradiction: i am working on ishwari and Struggling with her design though send help)

further explanation on his design below! :)

unfortunately, no other drawings, sorry :( however, i did fuck around and find out with some color filters, so those will be attached at the end if you’re interested

my main idea with mohan was to go for something that looked regal, like it belonged in a palace, but also something that looked like it belonged in the middle of a battlefield brutalizing its enemies. being the leader of the golden path as well as an absolute Machine for violence and aggression, i figured that suited him well, and i personally feel like i accomplished my goal . yay for me!

this part feels way too cheesy but i’m going to include it anyway because it involved the design, so. i wanted him to also kind of feel like a myth or a legend or something in the sense that kyrati told stories of him when he was still alive (maybe even after he died, who knows) about a dragon perched on the mountains that reflected the golden light of the very sun, shining a path for everyone to follow, etc. etc. you get the point right LOL

^ he’s very special, very large, very strong. also, the leader, so everyone respects him anyway and telling stories of his power as tactics to either inspire the golden path or scare the royal army would probably start happening somewhere after the time of pagan’s betrayal

about him being perched on the mountaintops, i had an idea. and i followed through with it, because i liked it; it’s that he could climb extraordinarily well and much preferred to be high up rather than down low to gain better vantage points and to feel like he was properly overseeing his people. or, his dragons? not his people. 

^ anyway, i made his upper body massive to allow for some extra climbing muscle there, four front legs for even more stability if he were to slip and lose a foothold, retractable claws like a cat to hook onto things, generally huge paws. he also has paw pads, which are the same color as the beads/spots (that are attached to his body, they aren’t for decoration) that help for climbing, because they are rough like the pads of a dog or a cat or something lol

he has very strong bones (my boy drinking a lot of milk) (nah just kidding. it’s because he’s like any of the many animals that butt heads to establish dominance he has to slam his face into other people’s faces as an intimidation tactic; the amount of horns and spines he has serves well for this purpose, especially if smashing his face into another dragon’s escalates into a full-blown fight) and thick skin, as well as a double-layered coat for insulation in the colder places of kyrat... and whatever else a double coat does. OKAY I know that double coated dogs stay warm in winter and cool in summer i just don’t know how LMAO

it’s probably obvious to tell (or god at least i hope it is) that i really based his design off the golden path’s flag, with the duller darker blue and the bright golden yellows. his horns and spines i also based off the design but ESPECIALLY the sun-like thingies on the base of his tail, and on his stomach/chest. when he climbs up cliffs or scales mountains to look down on kyrat, it’s not just for that reason; the golden glittery parts of him absorb heat that he can store for when he’s needed up in the more freezing areas, and when they’re storing heat, are incredibly hot to the touch. not enough to burn on immediate contact, but if you rest your hand there, you’re getting some scars

mmmm i also tried to take at least a little inspiration from the way banashur looks in statues all over kyrat and stuff (i.e. the golden speckles, the beads, the way the patterns on his legs look; those were all things i managed to stem from banashur) because mohan is incredibly religious and whatnot, so. can’t leave that part of him out! the reason i took elements of banashur though was because... um. okay stick with me here i’ve been correlating (in the goat’s notes near the masks of yalung) pagan with yalung and mohan with banashur, but SOLELY in the sense that the way the goat describes banashur being jealous of yalung and creeping in the dark as a cheap way to break him is very Them. lmk if you agree because it’s all i’ve been able to think about since i beat far cry 4 and got all the masks it’s so in my brain 

umm let’s see what else. right i tried to manage with mohan’s hair/facial hair as best as i could and i think i did a pretty good job :) gave him a bit of a mane down his back and a bushy tail just so the fluffy hair and dragon beard didn’t look out of place or anything

anddd i did forget to include this on pagan’s-dragon-design-post-explanation-whatever but also it was partially because i legit couldn’t think of anything. The breath conundrum. does he breathe fire

mohan? kind of. his breath is relative to where he stores his heat and when he uses it it’s like opening an oxygen tank in the sense that, well, he’s releasing a LOT of it and will have to go back for more. but it’s not like it doesn’t hurt; it’s a very glittery golden like his patterns and looks almost like a concentrated beam of gas, and it burns like hell. also tingles like it’s acid or something after it settles on your skin, but it doesn’t actually eat through you, it just really hurts

okay uhh i think that’s it if i add anything i? might reblog? we’ll find out it’ll be a little surprise

last thing, here are the other color versions ! i like them both a lot but his original colors suit him infinitely better i think. also tumblr is being difficult and won’t let me put them side by side so we’re all gonna hold hands again and pretend it’s fine and that the quality isn’t total shit in the preview

but thank you for reading!!!! or even just looking honestly. i appreciate it lol

[samninja18]

Turtle sisters and their human disguises

In turtle form Silviana has a darker green shade due to her species being a Musk Turtle, she has different spots and a few line marks. She’s covered in scars from her battles and has a hood cape on her at all times, she has sharpened claws and shoulder pads for armor. She used to be fully covered from head to toe with a mask, and pants with only her plastron showing, now she just has on a shorter belt and black shorts like her brothers. She wears a grey mask showing she’s the gray ninja. Her shell is brown and on the back she has a striped pattern. She has a thick short tail in a similar pattern.

In human form Silviana is a dark brown, scars still visible, mask still on, wearing a brown backpack, no claws, no spots, her plastron is replaced by a dress, and her cape is replaced by a regular gray hoodie. Her hair isn’t seen yet because she’s always wearing the hood up. Tail is gone.

Her main nickname is Silvie.

In turtle Form Venus has a mix of green and blue skin, her species is a diamondback terrapin, similar to her brother leo she has stripes all over her but in a different pattern. She wears a top that has a hole in the back for her shell to be exposed, her mask has long tails that she braided like hair, her plastron is much darker with a blue tint to it unlike her siblings. She wears black shorts just like the others. Her color is a sky blue, much lighter than leo’s, the reason for this is her eyes which are unnaturally blue unlike everyone else around her whom’s eyes are black. Her shell is a dark green with a Diamond pattern on the back. She has a very thin tail.

In human form she’s albino with VERY pale skin, and very light blond hair that’s almost white. Dark green backpack, mask still on, her stripes are now just dark spots on her skin followed by many freckles. Her plastron is now just a shirt under her top. Her hair is shoulder length and shaggy. Her black shorts are longer. No tail.

Her main nickname is Venny

In turtle form Jennika’s skin is very different from all her siblings, instead of some type of green, hers is closer to orange. Her species is a wood turtle she has a pattern that resembles scales over her. She wears a scarf and has her long mask tails tied into a bow her plastron is gold colored. she also wears black shorts. Her color is Yellow. Her shell is a mix of a dark blue, light orange, and yellow. She’s transgender in this version so her tail is much bigger and thicker resembling Raph, Mikey, and Donnie’s.

In human form her skin is light like her father Lou Jitsu. Long Black hair that goes over her shoulder. Dark blue backpack, mask still on, she isn’t seen to have any marks out in the open aside from the face paint on her face resembling her marks which is similar to leo’s human form, her plastron is now a sweater, everything else is the same, no tail.

Her name nickname is Jenna

[myukrainianheart]

You can find the pattern here: { Odile, the dragon...}

I want to share some changes I made for my dragon.

1. I used a 1.5 mm hook, 12 mm safety eyes, and 55% cotton, 45% acrylic yarn.

2. With dragon’s face I did the following:

- added whites to his eyes with a leftover white yarn;

- embroidered nostrils with darker color;

- indented the nose because, without it, the dragon reminded me of a cow.

3. Now let’s talk about the pattern itself:

- When I crocheted a body, it said to press the opening with my fingers and crochet together with sc. My last stitch was located in the middle of the dragon’s back. If I’d done what was said in the pattern, I would’ve connected only half of the stitches. Because of this, I crocheted a few slip stitches to move my yarn from the middle to the side.

- When we pressed the opening of the ears with our fingers and crocheted 6 sc through both sides, the pattern later says to curve the ears to sew them to the head. Instead, I pressed 6 sc we just made together once again, crocheting 3 sc through both sides.

- I crocheted wings from separate details, which I later connected to add a dark green border. If you want to do the same, you need to crochet the following:

Make 4, using the color of your choice (it’s creamy white in my case)…

Note: we’ll be working not in rounds, but from side to side.

1. Make 2 chain stitches. Crochet 4 sc in the second chain from the hook

2. 3 sc

3. 3 inc (6)

4. 6 sc

5. (1 sc, inc) x 3 times (9)

6. 9 sc

7. (2 sc, inc) x 3 times (12)

8. 12 sc

9. (3 sc, inc) x 3 times (15)

10. 15 sc

We have four details for the wings: for the two of them, you should cut the yarn off and weave the ends, while for the other two, do not cut the yarn because we’ll continue working with them.

Take one half with cut-off yarn and one with yarn still attached. Hold them together so that the wrong sides touch each other while the right ones face outward. From there on, we’ll be crocheting through both details:

11. 5 sc, 1 picot stitch on top of the previous stitch, 5 sc, another picot stitch on top of the previous stitch, 5 sc.

Cut the yarn off and weave the ends. Your wing is supposed to be connected only at the bottom.

Picot stitch = chain 3. Then crochet one sc on the first of those stitches (third chain from hook). Continue with the following stitches.

Now, we’ll be working with dark green yarn. Connect your yarn to the side where we just finished crocheting, and make sc through both halves along the two remaining sides. You should have 10 sc moving up, 3 sc in the top point, and 10 sc moving down, 23 sc in total. Cut the yarn off, leaving a long tail for sewing wings to the body.

You can also embroider lines with a dark green color, similar to the one in my photo.

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[aquato-family-circus]

"What does Otto Mentallis' Brain look like?" "Yes!"

I've been wanting to pay a little tribute to everyone else's very fun little Otto ideas, since a lot of them inspired my own take, so finally we are here. If yours isn't here, don't worry about it, just means I must've missed it! Mostly worked with ones that had visual refs or at least detailed descriptions~

I included everyone's usernames in the images themselves, and here's the direct links to where I got the refs for these concepts too, so you can show them some love:

@banjo-bugs [x] @britishsass [x] [x] (second link is a fanfic series, go read it) @jnixz [x] @razputin-archetype [x] @save-me-san-fran-psychonauts [x] @sunnievii [x] @vikviky [x]

All image descriptions under the cut:

General ID: 7 Images depecticting different people's interpretations of mental denizens who would occupy the head of Otto Mentallis. A majority of them are iterations on Otto's design, barring a few exceptions such as jnixz and britishsass' concepts. Each image is labeled with the text "Concept By -" followed by the respective person's tumblr username. End ID.

ID #1: Concept by Banjo-Bugs. A continuous line drawing of an abstracted Otto Mentallis looking angry as he balls his fist and points aggressively to the left. The linework of his outer limbs and body is teal, then it grows from yellow to red as the colors reach his face. His eyes are swirling and bright yellow. He's surrounded by particle effects in the same colors as his body, and the background is a solid dark blue with blotches of darker blue circles. End ID.

ID #2: Concept by Britishsass. Three mechanical figures stand beside each other, each on top of a colored circle that is connected to a line that travels across the background in an erratic pattern. From left to right, the figures are Win-0 on the blue line, Turing on the red line, and Lovelace on the green line. Win-0 is a humanoid robot with a bronze/copper like complexion and ball-jointed limbs. It's wearing brass goggles on top of their head, a blue neckerchief, a grey t-shirt and a dark grey pair of overalls with black shoes and a brown belt. Turing is a simplistic robot with a circular head, bright red eyes, and an oval body with a small brain decal on the chest, tube arms, claw hands, and a singular wheel instead of legs. They're wearing a tiny floating hat with a brain decal, as well as a big brown satchel slung over one of his arms. Lovelace is a semi-humanoid robot with long, flowing metal hair, a stark white face with eyes that resemble camera apertures, mitten-like hands, and an electrical ghost tail. She's wearing a flowing grey dress with long sleeves under a green cloak with a silver heart on top. It also has a big green bow on the top of their head. End ID.

ID #3: Concept by Jnixz. A small silhouette of Otto Mentallis is floating down a green murky area as a large monster glowers down at him with bright yellow eyes. The monster resembles the design for a nightmare from Psychonauts, but it is much larger than a typical nightmare, and its multiple arms are all individually representative of a member of the Psychic 7. The limbs are all slightly out of focus, making the focus of the piece the Nightmare's skull-like head. End ID.

ID #4: Concept by Razputin-Archetype. A version of Otto that is modeled after blocky toys or miniature figurines one would find in a diorama or museum display. He has a slight wood grain texture and his joints are connected by small metal chains. He has his hands behind his back and he's looking up wistfully as he stands in a diorama depicting the heptadome by using pictures of in-game screenshots, superimposed on each wall and the floor. End ID.

ID #5: Concept by Save-Me-San-Fran-Psychonauts. A small Otto that is made of bright teal linework on top of a pitch black background. He has fluffy hair, and he's wearing a college graduation hat and robe. He looks determined as he holds onto a rabbit drawn in the same style which has ears meant to resemble lightbulbs. He's surrounded by bright red shark fins that are circling around his feet. End ID.

ID #6: Concept by Sunnievii. Three robotic versions of Otto expressing the emotions of Love, Anger, and Sadness. The Lovestruck Otto is colored in a pink monochrome, and has a heart on his chest that is showing an electrocardiogram, also in the shape of hearts. The Angry Otto is red, has sharper features, and has one hand raised up in a fist. The Sad Otto is blue and has softer features. He is slumped over in a defeated posture, one of his eyes is broken like glass, and his chest has a lightbulb inside of it. The background is a solid yellow color with white lines radiating from the three Ottos, in the shape of hearts, electrical lines, and rain, respectively. End ID.

ID #7: Concept by Vikviky. Otto is standing up against a dilapidated wooden door covered in wooden boards nailed to it, rusty chains, and a yellow ribbon labeled "DANGER!". Otto looks frightened and has his arms up in a defensive posture. His hair and cloak are wavier than is normal, the cloak especially starts to curl off into whisps resembling smoke at the bottom. His Psychonauts dress is also longer, reaching the ground. His glasses are bright yellow and glowing, one obscures his eye while the other is broken, revealing that his visible eye is bloodshot. In the background there are scribbles of eyes starring down at Otto. End ID.

[sothasil]

hihhiihi i adore your work so much you have no idea, 2 things, 1; do you have any khajiit headcanons or the sort youd like to share? your thoughts are so fucking cool to me id love to hear more, 2; how the fuCK do you pronounce do'kataj?? is it like,kaht-ah-juh, kaht-jay? i love this shit.

I do have an idea because I've caught you sneaking in my notes for 4 year old posts :P thank you so much!

do you have any khajiit headcanons or the sort youd like to share?

I'm going to share everything related to explaining everyone's favorite girl Ma'Jahrann and her design!

[1] Earring: Given to her during her second naming day.

Khajiit don't celebrate birthdays in the modern western sense of the term. Instead, they celebrate someone's new name. Now, Khajiit canon naming conventions are as follows: no family name, but one name, and a prefix/suffix. My interpretation is as follows: the first name day is when the child is born, and given their first name. During their childhood, they'll go as Ma'/M', and their second name day is celebrated, this time bigger and with the whole community, to welcome them in, and stays their name until until they reach puberty. At this time, a second name day is celebrated as they lose the M(a)'. In adulthood, names are also changed, but based on the feats of someone's life. The base name can be changed to an earned nickname, and if it is, you guessed it, celebration! A prefix or suffix can be added if the person deserves it, and again, you celebrate! Older khajiit who have accomplished the most will almost always have a particle to their name, while young adults with peaceful lives will go by just their base name with nothing fancy around it, until they solidify their existence in the world.

The purpose of these naming day celebrations are to inform the community of the person's name, and to party hard about it. They are meant to be memorable and serve as benchmarks in your life. For Ma'Jahrann, her parents gave her a solid gold earring when she was introduced as well, Ma'Jahrann! She wears it constantly.

[2] Fur color, unsual and eye catching.

As you might have seen on my post with the Ohmes concept art for Beyond Skyrim, I draw khajiit with a huge variety of skin and fur colors, just like humans, but I like to incorporate some cat inspired genetics in there too. Ma'Jahrann's coloring is based on "strawberry" or "golden" big cats, which is a type of melanine deficiency. In her case, her father has normal fur colors (brown and black, on a light skin), and her mother is melanistic, with extremely light colored hair and a light golden skin. Ma'Jahrann inherited a bit of both, with her dad's patterns but her mom's lack of melanin, and she ends up with this unusual golden and red fur color.

This being quite rare on top of looking striking, she's considered quite beautiful, since coat colors and markings are important for how Khajiit look at the beauty of their peers! In human equivalents, it'd be like seeing someone with a gorgeous skin color and the shiniest natural hair you've seen that perfectly compliments it. Her older brother got the short end of the genetics stick and looks very much like his mother but with his hair a bit darker. If he had fur, he would have no to very slight patterns.

[3] Long, thick tail.

Ma’jah is a tojay-raht, a type of Khajiit said to be at great ease in the trees. She has a long flexible body, short limbs, and a long strong tail to reflect this. I don’t have other tojay-raht OCs and have never drawn others, but they would share the same traits! However, the fluffiness is mostly just hers. She’s a great climber.

[4] Hair bangles

I’ve detailed these headcanons in my Elsweyr Style Guide before, but hair styling is very important to Khajiit style, and they favor braids, locks and updos in general, often very ornate! Ma’Jahrann styles hers in thick rows of braids close to her head, who end in a rag wrapped around four heavy metal rings. The shape of these rings is a lunar one. This style is done very tight and meant to last very long.

how the fuCK do you pronounce do'kataj??

Absolutely nothing in it schwaed, so clear those "uh" vowels from your mind! Pronounce the "a" and "o" like you would say Mario. The apostrophe works as a short pause/glottal stop (like when you say uh-oh! instead of uhoh), and the trickiest part is the last "j" - it's closest equivalent, assuming you are a native english speaker, is the "sh" sound (but voiced)

To get technical, it's [do.kataʒ], or [doʔkataʒ]. Channel your inner weeb for the first vowel but a shoddy english pronunciation would be dô kaht-ash! Rojatha’a would be rôshah tha-ah. There are no stresses.

[qitwrites]

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(AO3) 

June 1st falls on a random Tuesday. The weather is decent enough, the sun bright but not harsh, and the air is pleasant, slowly dipping to colder temperatures.

Everyone crowds around various desks to chatter before homeroom, and Iida spends a grand total of two minutes trying to bring about order before migrating towards Todoroki’s desk to join in the conversation he’s having with Midoriya and Sero. When there’s roughly 14 seconds to spare before Aizawa rolls into the class in his signature yellow sleeping bag, everyone takes their seats and on time, as always, Aizawa arrives.

Three things are noted immediately:

1.     The yellow sleeping bag is nowhere in sight. It’s happened before, but not often.

2.    There’s a strange bounce to Aizawa’s step. Not like a normal bounce, but he’s not dragging his feet like a reluctant, sleep-deprived sloth. His steps are focused and intentional. This is a very rare, almost never-before-witnessed sight.

3.    His hair is up. He doesn’t usually do it up for class, though they’ve seen him pull it into a pony when he’s dressed more casually and not in his hero attire. This is an unprecedented situation.

The class watches Aizawa wearily because, from literal months of experience, they have realized that when something is out of the ordinary, shit usually flings itself towards the fan in a most spectacularly dramatic fashion.

Even Bakugou is on-edge, watching Aizawa like a hawk. Midoriya is ready to whip his iconic notebook out and make yet another behavioral observation under the Eraserhead section. Iida looks ready to disperse any tension. They are all ready.

Aizawa sets his stuff down, gruffly wishes them good morning and then turns around to write something on the board.

They are not ready.

It’s not a big deal at all actually. In hindsight, its stupidly minor, but with Aizawa, it stands out bright and shiny, and even Koda makes a small noise of surprise.

Aizawa’s hair is pulled into a pony with a scrunchie. Which is fine, all well and good. But the scrunchie is made of a rainbow-colored hyper shiny material, which is surprising, because Aizawa always seems allergic to color, especially on his person.

And finally, there are only 6 colors in the rainbow. Momo connects the dots before the rest, though Midoriya follows closely behind.

‘That’s-‘

‘-pride,’ Midoriya breathes, soft but just enough for Bakugou, Jirou, and Sero to hear.

The class is shocked for the first ten or so minutes, as more and more people make the connection, but honestly, it’s just a scrunchie. And with Eri under Aizawa’s care, it isn’t unlikely that he’s worn one of her hair ties or something. This is probably a coincidence, even if it is the first of June, so everyone stops fixating and starts focusing on class.

The scrunchie goes unmentioned and1A is on the same page- it’s definitely just a one-time thing.

It is not a one-time thing.

On the second of June, Aizawa saunters in seemingly back to his normal attire, and a few shoulders slump. They might all be saying its a coincidence, but that doesn’t mean they’re happy about it. There’s something so reassuring about the idea of their teacher, someone that protects them fiercely and loyally, being supportive.

Aizawa doesn’t seem to pick up on the mood, he just assigns them some self-study before taking a seat at his desk. And then he, very uncharacteristically, puts his feet up and reclines in his chair, a folder propped open in his lap.

There’s a collective inhale, the whole class breathing in as one because there it is- undeniable proof that it isn’t a coincidence.

On Aizawa’s feet are the brightest, most vibrantly gay pride socks ever. Each of the 6 colors loop around the material before the pattern repeats, and there’s no white material or anything, just the colors of the flag over and over.

‘Holy shit,’ Mina whisper-shouts, and her smile is blinding. Uraraka giggles. Tokoyami nods sagely and says, ‘The support of a figure of authority is a beacon against the darkness of humanity.’  

They do their best to focus on self-study, but there’s a buzz around the class, a happy vibe that permeates the air and saturates it completely. There’s a glob of purple in the corner that seems indifferent, if not actively dismayed, but he goes ignored.

Midoriya writes something in his notebook and puts three stars next to it.

On the third of June, Aizawa has a rainbow hair clip pushing his bangs out of his face, and on the fourth, the soles of his shoes are rainbow and proud.

The competition begins the following Monday.

The thing about class 1A is that they try to support one another in any way possible, to encourage and stand together and everything. The other thing is that they’re hella competitive. It’s a hero course after all, and they’re trying to come out on top and be the best.

And it turns out their teacher, the chilled, nonchalant, mostly uninterested Aizawa Shota, is almost more than a little competitive when it comes to this stuff.

On Monday, Momo uses a pride scrunchie to pull her hair into her signature ponytail. Jirou has a band around her wrist that says love is love is love, and Satou bakes rainbow cookies for the whole class, leaving a few on Aizawa’s desk beforehand.

Their teacher walks in with his hair up again, and when his eyes settle on the cookies, they widen fractionally before he schools his expression into a more neutral one. He greets them all and his eyes flit over Jirou’s band, and the colorful cookie crumbs around the class. When he looks at Momo, she quickly turns her head to the side, showing off her hair accessory that matches his.

Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t smile, or even nod, nothing. He just kinda gets down to business. At least, that’s what it would look like to someone on the outside.

But 1A reads him- they watch the way he pushes his hair back, fingers lingering on his scrunchie while he reads out their assignment. They see the way his eyes momentarily linger on the cookies or Jirou’s wrist, such small, quick glances that they all catch because they read him. They know him, and he knows that they know.

When class ends, the room is filled with warm giggles when Aizawa leaves, the plate of cookies in hand.

The next day, Ojiro has a braid in his tail with different threads mixed in there, forming the familiar rainbow pattern. Mina has her horns painted in a pride flag ombre, spanning three different colors on each. Kirishima uses a rainbow hairband to keep his bangs out of his face during training, and Midoriya switches out his black shoelaces for rainbows.

Aizawa’s eyes ping pong around the class, and for a moment everyone wonders how many dress codes they’re breaking but he doesn’t say anything again. He just reads out their assignments as usual, his own pride pin shining brightly on his chest, against the black of his hero uniform.

It’s all fun and games, full of warmth and support until Aizawa starts pulling out the big guns.

Because when Aizawa walks in with a multicolored scarf wrapped around his neck, the class collectively realizes- he is challenging them, and beating them quite mercilessly at that. 

It’s obvious enough that even Bakugou growls in frustration, and then the games begin.

Mina shaves the word Pride into Iida’s undercut. Kaminari paints his nails. Hagakure replaces all her uniform buttons with multicolored ones. Shoji replaces his teal blue face mask with a pride one, and Uraraka has a few braids on the back of her head too. Satou’s desserts get more and more elaborate, more and more eye-catching and delicious.

The day after Aizawa walks in with a multicolored scarf, belt and goggles set, Satou stays up the entire night baking, set on paying their teacher back thrice fold.

Morning finds a rainbow croquembouche perched on Aizawa’s desk. Even Bakugou gives Satou a nod of respect because what the fuck? It’s literally a tower of sweets, brightly colored and absolutely delectable, and they get the biggest reaction out of Aizawa yet. His eyes widen, mouth dropping into a shocked little ‘o’, and his eyes immediately seek out Satou, who gives him a wide grin. Shaking his head incredulously, Aizawa conducts his class as usual. It’s a herculean task but he manages.

He still walks out with the entire dish balanced in his hands with great care.

Every teacher in their year has rainbow-colored tongues for the rest of the day.

Aizawa retaliates with eyeshadow. Rainbow eyeshadow. Jirou’s mouth drops, Aoyama starts wailing dramatically and even Todoroki looks impressed. Bakugou clicks his tongue and looks away, and Mina wants revenge.

The entire class comes together for the final showdown. Everyone tries to put color in their hair, though it doesn’t really work for the darker colors. Tokoyami adds a few sprinkles of glitter into his feathers, Iida switches his plain black frames to much more gaudy pride ones, and Todoroki and Bakugou have the most vibrant hair of them all, bright and ridiculous. Aizawa eyes them fondly almost, and that’s when they should’ve realized they were way out of their depth.

Because on June 30th, Aizawa walks into the class, his uniform spick and span, hair down, a ridiculous bounce in his step. Everyone eyes him from head to toe, and when they land on his feet, Kirishima inhales shakily.

‘No,’ he whispers.

‘Oh yes,’ Aizawa answers, his grin far too gleeful.

‘No fucking way,’ Bakugou snarls. His hands are shaking.

‘Language,’ Aizawa admonishes, his smile widening.

‘We’re doomed,’ Mina mumbles.

And right then, Aizawa taps the heels of his shoes together, and his pride rainbow shoes glow up and that’s it. Class 1A has lost. They accept it rather graciously, all things considered. Aizawa cackles like an evil witch, and Sero comforts a weeping Kaminari.

On July 1st, things go back to normal. Mostly normal.

Because Midoriya keeps the shoelaces. Someone sneaks a rainbow charm on Bakugou’s bag that he somehow keeps forgetting to obliterate to pieces. Kirishima doesn’t switch out his hairband, and Ojiro asks Tsuyu to braid his tail when they go out for more casual outings.

And Aizawa? Well, the soles of his hero boots are never quite the same.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter One: Feathers in Fukuoka

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: Y/n unexpectedly meets the current number two hero Hawks in Fukuoka. The grayish blue Parakeet catches the eye of the speedy hero, who promises himself he’ll meet them again.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Warnings: Child abuse, Karens, blood, Hawks being creepy, chaotic best friend, gore, shitty parents, deadbeat dad

Other: The amount of research I put into this, wing anatomy, feather anatomy, types of birds, parakeet behaviors, cities in Japan, I even found a good Japanese name for the best friend, since this does take place in Japan. If you wanna know, Izanagi, the name of Y/n’s best friend in this fic, means ‘First male, god of creation’ and I love that name. Actually, I love anything in the Japanese language, it’s such a beautiful language and I cannot wait to learn it. Also, there was a problem with the spacing in the flashback scene so I just fixed that real quick, sorry for the inconvenience!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin (If you want to be added/removed from the taglist let me know).

You stared out the window. It had taken forever but you’d convinced him to let you look down at the streets surrounding his penthouse. You rested one hand on the cool glass, letting out a breath. Your other hand was tracing the scars on your legs, You had long given up on getting them to heal.

You fluttered your wings, or what was left of them. No matter how many times your primary flying feathers would grow back, it would never deter your captor from simply clipping them off again. Thankfully, he did a better job than other people. He would never cut a blood feather. Well, mostly.

You closed your eyes, the house was so stifling at times, despite the large open rooms, and the fact that your captor would occasionally allow you out into the garden. You attempted to recall the last time you were free in Fukuoka. You remembered a bright sky, blue as your wings, and clouds fluffy and soft as your feathers. You remembered the ache in your body from working yourself all day, and just how heavy your legs felt. You remembered a kid’s joyful cheers when she saw you….

“Mommy! Look, look at the pretty bird! Can I touch it please?” you were standing on the street, waiting for a friend to pick you up and take you over to their house to watch movies and eat popcorn. You looked up from your phone at the sound of the child’s loud, innocent voice. 

“Go right ahead, Kaneko!” a woman’s voice this time. You frowned. Whatever bird they were talking about it probably wasn’t a good idea for the kid to just run up and touch it. You were forcibly removed from your thoughts when sharp pain shot up through your wing. Oh, you were the ‘pretty bird’ the kid was talking about.

Your quirk was Parakeet, and that was fine by itself, but it came with pros and cons. Some pros were that you could fly, even though you couldn’t do that in public in most places in Japan. Some cities in Japan had laws that allowed flyers to take to the skies under strict sky traffic laws, but Fukuoka was not one of those cities. Maybe you would have been better off in Miyagi or Fukui, where you could fly freely, but at the same time, you had lived your whole life near Fukuoka, plus it was such a beautiful city, it was easier to stay here.

Another pro was simple, the thing most people think about when they say they want a mutant-type quirk. The looks. Your wings had three different colors, but the base color was a beautiful summer sky blue. At the very top of your wings, your marginal coverts were a curious shade of gray. Not dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Underneath were your secondary coverts, which were white as the clouds in the sky. The rest of your feathers were pretty blue colors. Your tail feathers followed the same pattern as your wings.

Everything else about your quirk wasn’t very fun. Behavioral issues that had gotten you in trouble in school and at work, especially during mating season. Plus the sheer amount of people with prejudice against mutant quirks. You’d heard it all. People thinking they had the right to touch your wings and tail, people shouting to you in a high-pitched voice to force you to repeat their words, people claiming you weren’t human, people insisting you fly them somewhere, etc etc. This was unfortunately something you dealt with on the daily.

Just like this kid grabbing your wing. 

“OW! Don’t do that!” you shrieked, yanking your wing away from the kid, spinning around to see her. Her little hand was wrapped around one of your darker feathers. Fuck. Of course, she grabbed a blood feather. The little girl’s eyes welled up in tears, and she turned and ran back to her mom. Thank the stars, she let go of your feather.

You sighed, running your fingers through your wings to smooth the ruffled feathers. 

“Excuse me, bird!” the mother of the child grabbed your shoulder, forcibly spinning you around to face her. She was middle-aged, and furious. “What did you do to my dear Kaneko?”

You glanced between the woman and the girl, Kaneko. Kaneko was in tears, holding onto her mother’s leg. She had to have only been three or four, she probably didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t do anything to your child, ma’am. She ran up to me and grabbed my wing, which is very painful, and actually very rude in case you were unaware.”

“I don’t give a shit!” the woman screeched. You flinched away from her. She was cursing in front of her toddler? Irresponsible. “It’s my dear Kaneko’s birthday, and I say she gets whatever she wants! You’re just a fucking bird, so why can’t you sit still and let my daughter pet you!?”

Great, she was a fucking Karen. This was just what you needed after dealing with co-workers and clients at work. Getting your feather pulled and a crazy lady all up in your face, freaking out at you. Because her daughter hurt you.

“Because it’s painful, and I’d prefer not to let strangers touch my wings.” You explained yourself calmly.

“You fucking bitch!” the woman was screaming, her finger in your face. “You selfish, greedy little pig! She’s a child, let her live her life!” Shadows danced in your peripherals as her words faded from your ears. 

Cold metal was pressed up against your feathers, you dreaded the snipping noise that meant she was cutting. You could feel the scissors press into the stem of your feather before the metal blades connected, severing the feather from your wing. 

“Ow! Mommy that hurts!” hot, wet, salty tears stained your cheeks. “Mommy please stop it!” You were five, getting your wings clipped for the first time.

“Shut up! Don’t be so fucking selfish!” a harsh voice snapped at you, the aggression making you shudder as you sobbed. Your pupils were blown wide in fear as you screamed.  “Stop, Mommy that one hurts more!” your mother didn’t even hesitate, cutting off another feather. It hit the ground like the rest of them, but something else came with it. Blood dripped down your wings, staining the pretty blues and plopping onto the ground.

“You’re dirtying my clean floors!” mother screeched behind you. “When I finish with your wings, you’ll clean that up!”

“Mommy?” you sniffled, trying to hold back your chest-heaving sobs. “Why do I hafta have my wings clipped?”

“So you don’t fly away like your jackass of a father. I won’t let you leave Mommy.”

“Get your finger out of my face, woman!” you shouted at her, you were just seconds away from biting it off of her ugly hand. You were trembling, and you could hardly breathe what with the marching drums hammering away at your ribcage

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you inhuman!” The little girl shied away from her mom, crying harder. You opened your mouth to retort against the crazy Karen, but stopped when you saw the girl’s reaction. You knew she probably felt bad for hurting you, and now her mother was screaming and cursing, you knew how scary that was.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a whoosh of wind and a flash of red. Something wrapped around your arms, tugging you away from the woman, and something tugged the woman away from you. You looked down, seeing red feathers curled around your biceps. You’d only seen red feathers in one other place. When your own feathers were soaked in blood from your mom’s clippings. You shook your head, pushing the dark memories from your mind as you grabbed the feather and pulled it off of you as quick as possible, it flew away from you almost immediately, heading towards a man far taller than you. His golden hair was messy but very soft-looking. His slitted eyes glanced between you and the woman behind his golden goggles. His hands rested in the pockets of his large brown jacket. But none of that compared to his intimidatingly large red wings. It would be impossible not to recognize him, he was your best friend’s favorite.

Number Two Pro-Hero in Japan; Hawks

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I heard shouting.” he said, a lazy smile resting on his face.

“This crazy bird-bitch hit my daughter!” the Karen screamed hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” you thought she’d at least be above that, but it looked this woman didn’t give a shit about morality. “I didn’t touch her at all! She grabbed my wing then you freaked out when it hurt me!” 

“Hey, now, no need to get upset.” Hawks turned to you, and something in him changed. His wings shivered, and his eyes slitted, before blowing back out to normal size. “Birdie, tell me your side of the story.” you took a step away from the hero, something about his reaction to seeing you didn’t seem natural. It creeped you out. Also, why was he calling you ‘birdie?’

“I was standing around, waiting for my friend, then this kid saw me. She must have thought my wings were pretty because she ran up to be and grabbed one of my feathers. A blood feather, actually. It hurt and I yanked my wing back and told her not to do that. This woman seemed to have some delusion that her daughter has every right to touch and hurt me and I’m supposed to- and I now quote- ‘sit still and let her pet me.’” You explained.

“Ah I see.” Hawks nodded, turning to a young man on the street. “Sir, who’s explanation is correct?” he asked.

“Uh- the bird’s?” the guy seemed out of it, just staring at the hero.

“Thanks, sir. Ma’am, could you and your daughter apologize to this nice person?”

“No way in fucking hell!” the woman screamed. “Come on, Kaneko, we’re getting out of here. And I’m throwing away all your Hawks bobbleheads, now I know he’s a fucking biased pig.” The girl glanced up at her mom before quickly running to you, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, your wings just looked so pretty!” you softened a little, crouching down and patting the girl’s head, smiling at her.

“It’s alright, I forgive you. Next time you see something pretty, tell the person it’s pretty, then ask if you can touch it.” The girl lit up, nodding eagerly.

“I will!” she exclaimed before her mother dragged her away. 

“You didn’t need to apologize to that asshole. They were the one that made you cry.” she grumbled, walking down the street as she fumed. 

“Poor girl…” you muttered. “Having a Karen for a mom.” you stared after her empathetically. You didn’t notice the look in the hero’s eyes, staring you up and down, shifting from one leg to the next. “Oh um, thanks Hawks,” you said, turning back to him. “For helping me.”

You froze when you saw his face, eyes seemingly staring into your soul, expression blank. He seemed to be calculating something, scanning you for information. Your blood ran cold when you noticed his pupils, thinner than paper.

“Oh!” he was shaken out of his daze by your voice, a careless smile dawning his features as his pupils returned to normal. “No problem, Birdie.” you pursed your lips, nodding. You saw a small black car turn the corner, and you honed in on the license plate. Saved at last! Your friend was here!

“Alright, uh I’ve gotta be going now…” you chuckled nervously. 

“Wait, a sec, I’m gonna need your name for a report.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small voice recorder and holding it up to you. “Just speak it in here.” Oh, yeah that made sense, Heroes had to make reports of everything they resolved in a day, so it was probably best to get the names of the people they help in case the PHSC needed to contact them.

“Y/n.” you spoke as clear as you could when he pressed the button on the side of the recorder. “Y/n L/n. Hawks helped me win a petty fight with a Karen.” you chuckled a little into the recorder. Hawks nodded, putting the recorder back into his pocket. He glanced back at you for a moment, expression aloof and apathetic.

“Thanks, Y/n!” he flashed you another smile before taking off into the sky, leaving you confused. 

Why did he use your personal name and not your family name?

The door to the small black car opened, and your friend stumbled out, running forward a few paces before cursing.

“You fuckin kidding me, Y/n? You got to meet Hawks?” he stared at you in disbelief. “You couldn’t have made him stay a minute longer? You know he’s my celebrity crush!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your best friend since you were a young child, Izanagi Fujikawa. Bisexual, chaotic, and your mortal enemy. 

“Iza, he’s a pro hero. He’s got shit to do!” Izanagi pouted, crossing his arms.

“I know… I’m still mad at you though.” you rolled your eyes, scoffing. 

“We can deal with that.” you poked his cheek, climbing in the passenger seat before he grabbed your elbow, pulling you back towards him.

“Your wing’s all messed up- what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” you shrugged him off, climbing in and buckling your seatbelt, unaware of the sharp golden eyes watching you.

Hawks was perched on a nearby building, eyes slitted as he glared down at your friend. You two were close, he could tell. Why did that make him so fucking furious? His feathers twitched as he played back the recording you’d given him. That laugh, golden and free. He looped it, your gentle voice blessing his ears and relaxing his body for him.

“Pff- hahahaha!” he closed his eyes, re-imagining your face, the soft smile gracing your angel-like features, the way your wings flapped slightly, the nearly inaudible purr vibrating in the back of your throat. He wanted you to laugh around him more, he wanted you to be around him more, he wanted you to be his. 

Even if he only got to talk to you for a minute, he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about you. You didn’t like causing trouble, seeing how polite you were at first to that crazy lady. You could stand your ground though, not afraid to stand up for yourself. You were kind, and forgiving, he got that from how you treated the kid. 

A sudden realization struck Hawks. It was frightening, terrifying even. He loved you. Breathtaking Y/n L/n, the pretty parakeet. Ah, but that guy. That guy was in the way. Not to worry, he could remove the… complication.

Soon.

You would belong just to him.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 52

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 4,063

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE 

Author’s Note: Woo for another chapter! These Friday updates make me even more excited for the weekend, so I hope it does the same for y’all. I also hope you’re ready for this third outing with Negan ;)

Gentle Heat

At 4:57pm, you strode down the hallway and towards the front door of the Sanctuary. You had Ricardo hefted up over your shoulder, and gave him a little twirl reminiscent of a certain leader with his own handy-dandy weapon. Your brain and subconscious walked excitedly on either side of you, both of them happy, content, and finally on the same emotional page since the conversation with Negan last night. 

When you informed Ben at the beginning of dinner prep that you had to leave once the food was ready, he had flashed a knowing smirk and gave a sassy ‘mmmm hmmmm’ in response, earning himself a playful shove. He had laughed and then said he’d make sure to leave two containers of leftovers in the fridge for when you got back. When you hadn’t corrected the container amount, he had only grinned harder, and you couldn’t help but smile in return. Ben and Negan would never be best buddies, but you could finally see the potential for them to at least be cordial acquaintances, a thought which caused another of those darned warm and fuzzy feelings in your chest. 

Mind returning to the present, you pushed open the heavy front door and squinted into the warm rays of sun that would last for a couple more hours before sinking into the horizon. When your vision had adjusted to the light, you saw that Negan was already waiting at the front gate, gaze fixed in your direction. Fighting the ridiculous grin that tugged at your lips, you started walking purposely across the asphalt towards him, perhaps putting a little more sway to your hips than was necessary. Your eyes took in his tall and delicious form, subconscious almost tripping over its own feet at the sight. A white tee was peeking out the top of his slightly unzipped leather jacket, and his gloved hands held Lucille. Vowing to have them also hold you by the end of the outing, you felt a spark of excitement at the thought of that soft leather running over your skin, this time with no interruptions. 

Stopping a foot away from him, both of you raked greedy eyes down over the other. While you tried to be a bit discreet in your ogling, his stare was blatant, taking in your peach-colored t-shirt, form-fitting jeans, and boots. A grin curved those sinful lips as he drawled, “Afternoon, doll.” 

Unable to help a tiny smirk in return, you calmly replied, “Good afternoon, Negan.” 

Eyes twinkling knowingly, he turned and looked over at the Savior on gate duty. A subtle nod of Negan’s head was all it took for the man to hurriedly unlock and open the well-oiled metal. 

Once you were out of view of the Sanctuary and enclosed on all sides by trees, he stopped and turned to you. “Well, doll?”

“Well, what?” 

He lifted Lucille straight out in front of him and panned her over the surrounding forest. “You’re running the fucking show, so where to?”

Delight lit up your face at the realization of what he was offering. He’s letting you be in charge this time! Your subconscious procured a red cloak and tiny wicker basket out of thin air and frolicked off into the trees, while your brain took out a magnifying glass and started studying an odd-looking insect resting on a nearby bush. Torn between which one to follow, you landed on a mixture of both, and started off in a random direction with a bit of extra pep in your step, taking everything in. 

You wandered around that way for a while, taking the time to explore all the wonders the forest had to offer now that you weren’t faced with a mission of picking berries before the clock ran out. Negan was a good sport about it, following dutifully behind as you slowly meandered around in a haphazard pattern. It dimly registered that you didn’t even hesitate to worry about where you were going, trusting him to reign you in if you strayed too far from the Sanctuary or caused him to lose his bearings. 

At one point, you stopped at the sound of rustling, both Lucille and Ricardo raised in readiness. However, the would-be assailants turned out to only be a pair of squirrels. You both stood silent and frozen, watching the furry little creatures happily chase each other through the brush before racing up a tree. Moving on, you stopped at times to inspect certain plants, but since your knowledge on horticulture wasn’t extensive, you refrained from touching the ones that looked foreign. Negan stayed dutifully silent and uncomplaining a few paces behind, as if he knew how much you needed this outing, how much you had needed a bit of fresh air and freedom from the Sanctuary that you didn’t have to steal or that wasn’t dictated by someone else. 

However, this was Negan you were talking about, and his patience wasn’t infinite. You knew it had finally worn thin when you abruptly stopped and bent down to smell a pretty yellow flower and heard him give a low groan of frustration. Freezing at the sound, you turned to look at him. He might be standing a few feet away, but his gaze was fixed with laser focus on your bent-over ass. 

Interest quickly moving from your surroundings and towards a more arousing topic, you straightened and quipped, “What? I didn’t think we were in a rush to get to grandmother’s house?”

Instantly recognizing the metaphor, his eyes twinkled with both merriment and something a bit darker...something a bit dirtier.

Tongue tucking into his cheek, he looked you down and up before replying, “I didn’t realize that was the game we were playin’, Red. Should’ve fucking said so sooner.”  

With that, he strode towards you, his long legs quickly eating up the distance. He fit the Big Bad moniker perfectly in that moment, his eyes glowing wolfishly with intent.   

Feeling both adrenaline and desire course through your body, you did the only thing to be expected of Little Red in a situation such as this. 

Giving a huff of excitement, you turned tail and ran. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

You must have taken Negan by surprise, because initially you only heard silence in response. You hadn’t even hesitated to consider what to do if he stayed put, instead knowing that he would follow and chase you down. Sure enough, you had only sprinted a short distance before the unmistakable sound of heavy but agile footfalls arose from behind. Grinning, you jumped over a large branch laying across the ground, incredibly glad that the ankle you had twisted during your last forest adventure was healed enough to handle this sudden strenuous activity. 

The footsteps grew louder, and you knew he was closing in when you could hear the unmistakable sound of leaves brushing against leather as he pushed past the same hedges as you had only a few seconds earlier. Knowing the chase was almost at an end, you suddenly swerved to the left and darted behind a nearby stout bush that came up to your waist. 

Turning around, you expected Negan to burst into view on the other side of the bush...but instead were met with silence. Brows furrowing, you strained to listen, certain he had been just behind you a moment ago. When there was nothing, not even a rustle of foliage, you felt a prickle of worry dart down your spine. Had he fallen? No, surely you would’ve heard that. 

“Negan?” you hissed, visions of him being grabbed by an enemy group or knocking himself unconscious the same way you had not too long ago racing through your mind. 

Hefting up Ricardo, who you had been clutching in one hand at your hip while running, you slowly went back around the bush and retraced your steps. Trying to walk as lightly as possible, to avoid any unnecessary noise, you had tiptoed about thirty feet and were just passing the wide trunk of some large tree, when a strong arm darted out from behind it and snagged around your waist. Another hand flew over your mouth, cutting off your sharp scream. You registered that it was encased in leather at the same time the hair stood up on the back of your neck, both clues pointing a bright neon arrow to who you captor was. 

Before you could decide how to enact your revenge for his deception, he spun you around and pressed your back into the large tree. Surprise and loss of balance from the quick maneuver caused you to drop Ricardo, and a second later his hands pinned yours to the rough bark at the same time that a muscled thigh slid between your legs, anchoring you in place.

Despite sprinting after you through the woods, he didn’t even appear to be breathing heavy, the jerk. Meanwhile, you were making more than a small amount of effort to catch your breath from all the exertion, darn your out-of-shape ass. Course, some of the accelerated breaths could also be a result of having such an attractive alpha male using his entire body to pin you against a tree. Not to mention the way he was staring at you with a devilish glint in his tawny gaze. 

Leaning down, his raspy drawl came from right beside your ear as he murmured, “Checkmate, doll. Your move.” 

An unexpected rush of emotion rose within you at the words. What had initially started out as a condescending phrase, one he used to taunt and exert his power, had then changed into more of a challenge thrown down by you during the chess game. After that, it had been transformed into a type of endearment, a way for both of you to check in with the other. It was yet another example of how far your interactions with Negan had come, how far your feelings towards each other had come. 

The phrase had always been a precursor to a nonverbal response from the other, and you weren’t going to break that trend now. Head turning, your lips brushed over his bearded cheek, seeking out his mouth. When your lips connected, you sighed and poured your soul into the kiss. It was heated with both desire and an emotion that was slowly making itself impossible to resist. One that both terrified and thrilled you with its possibility. You knew he had received the nonverbal message when the hands previously pinning you gentled, leathered fingers threading with yours until they were intertwined. His kiss consumed you, tongue thrusting inside your mouth in possessive, delicious strokes until you pulsed with need. His head then tilted to the other side, as if he wanted to explore from every angle, as if he couldn’t taste you enough. 

When you had melted into him with willing submission, he pulled back from the kiss and gazed down at your desire-hazed expression, the silence dragging on for long moments as you took each other in. His eyes were full of what could only be described as gentle heat, showcasing both his desire and his...affection. It was a look that you didn’t even think was in his repertoire, much less one that would be directed at you. You weren’t sure what your own face was conveying, but whatever it was, he seemed to like it, his lips ticking up slightly on one side. 

Leaning back in, he went for your throat this time, beard brushing over sensitive skin as he found the spot he had quickly learned caused your head to fall back in surrender. Lifting one leg, you wrapped a thigh around him so that your hips pressed together. 

Giving a frustrated groan, he murmured against your skin, “I’m a fucking fool.” 

“What?” you dumbly replied, stiffening slightly. Had you misread that moment of connection just a few seconds ago? Had he not meant to-

“I didn’t bring any fucking condoms. I thought you’d be so busy traipsing around the fucking woods that we wouldn’t need one til we got back.” 

His face was still pressed into your neck, lips moving over your flesh in hot, open-mouthed kisses, so he missed the mischievous smile that crossed your face. “My bra.”

His head did lift at that, and it was his turn to dumbly say, “What?”

Giving a light laugh, you tugged at his hands so he’d let go, fingers dropping to reach inside the modest neckline of your shirt. He followed the movement with curiosity, and you saw the lightbulb go off in his head a moment before you pulled out the tiny foil packet you had put in there earlier. 

Brandishing it in front of his face, you quipped, “Glad one of us came prepared.” 

Tongue tucking into his cheek, he gave an obscene smile. “That’s my girl,” he purred, the words causing heat to simmer in your belly.

Reaching down for the button on your jeans, he continued, “We’ll have to make it quick, doll. And quiet. Don’t want any fucking walkers catching us with our pants down.”

Only able to nod in agreement, your eyes were locked on the sight of his leather-encased fingers lowering the zipper of your pants before they gripped the fabric at the sides and tugged both it and your panties down. You had to lower your leg from his hip for him to do so, and he cursed under his breath when he came upon the obstacle of your knee-high boots. Kneeling, he quickly unzipped and yanked them off before returning to the removal of your pants. A dart of heat went through you when he tugged the garments off and stood back up, taking in the sight of you standing before him and naked from the waist down. 

“Fuck, that’s a pretty picture,” he breathed.

Taking your mouth in another kiss coated with blatant sensuality, his hand slipped between your thighs, two gloved fingers pushing inside and caressing your flesh in expert strokes. His thumb ran through the wetness, dragging it up to coat your sensitive clit. Breaking the kiss, your head fell back against the tree, breath panting when he started rubbing in soft circles with the perfect amount of pressure. It was a touch meant to steadily drive up your pleasure without being too quick or overwhelming. 

The feel of the smooth, buttery leather sliding over and inside you was sublime, yet also taboo enough to make you clench around him with the dirty thrill of it. The fingers inside scissored, stretching you for his greedy cock. Looking down, you saw that it was currently straining the front of his pants in a way that made you grit your teeth to hold back a moan. 

Deciding that turnabout was fair play, you reached for the fastening of his pants, quickly unbuckling his belt and pushing the fabric down below his hips, along with the boxer briefs. When his cock came into view, it was already red and swollen, the fat head glistening with a drop of pre-cum. You felt a bit dizzy at the sight, excited by the illicitness of fucking out in the open like a pair of wild animals. Wrapping a hand around him, you marveled once again at his impressiveness. His girth was more than a handful, and yet to the place currently aching for him, you knew it would be a perfect fit.

His eyes fluttered closed with a groan when you started stroking his cock, thumb running up over the slit with each pass. His obvious enjoyment of your touch sent a rush of wetness between your thighs, as well as giving your ego a jolt of empowerment over the fact that you had such an effect on this handsome-as-hell man who was usually so in control of every situation. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that you were already becoming addicted to. Not wanting to wait any longer, you leaned forward and nipped at the tanned skin of his brawny throat. 

“I want you to fuck me like this, right now,” you said, a bit surprised at the command in your tone. 

His eyes popped back open as he gave a pained growl and grabbed the condom out of the hand not stroking his dick. He ripped it open, and you reluctantly let go so that he could roll it on in practiced strokes. 

“Hurry,” you urged, back arching into the trunk of the tree and hips pressing into him, feeling the tip of his shaft brush against your soaked entrance. 

He didn’t disappoint, strong hands hooking around the backs of your knees and lifting you right off the ground, at the same time that he entered you with one long thrust. 

You couldn’t hold back a cry at his intrusion, a gloved palm quickly covering your mouth to muffle the sound. Pushing two leather-covered fingers past your lips to press lightly on your tongue, you realized they were the same ones that had been between your other set of lips just a minute ago. Giving another primal moan at the filthiness of it, you sucked on his fingers, faintly tasting your own musky essence under the more prominent and earthly flavor of the leather. 

“Shit,” he hissed, also struggling to keep from making too much noise as he started up a deep, steady rhythm with his hips, your ankles criss-crossed together behind his ass and urging him on. 

Grabbing the bottom of your shirt with the hand not in your mouth, he yanked the peach fabric up to your chin and pulled down the fabric cups of your plain white bra. Your breasts popped free, presented to him on a platter with the underwire still keeping them elevated. He buried his face in them with a muffled groan, his beard causing delicious friction as his mouth feasted on your soft skin. You moaned around his fingers when he took a taut nipple between his teeth and bit gently before laving it with his tongue. 

Despite the fact that you were both still wearing some of your clothes, it wasn’t as quick a fuck as he had warned. His thrusts were more relaxed than urgent, but no less devastating since each one seemed to drag his cock in a way that hit every sensitive nerve ending you possessed. He was using his body as if it were a tool designed specifically to pleasure you, and he slowed down his thrusts even more when his head lifted and he caught you in his hooded, tawny gaze. He watched you closely as his hips possessed and retreated, your thighs squeezing on the sides of his waist and your own hips lifting away from the sharp bite of tree bark to meet each thrust. The fingers in your mouth slipped out, replaced by his tongue, as he kissed you slow and deep. 

The forest blurred around you, any outside awareness dwindling until all you could see and feel was him, and you dimly realized that this wasn’t fucking. No, with the way your bodies pulsed and hearts pounded in unison...this wasn’t anything other than making love. 

Despite the unhurried pace, the pleasure continued to build, pushing you steadily and inexorably towards the precipice that always promised ecstasy. You were releasing little whimpers against his lips, hands clutching at his shoulders as your muscles started tensing in a way that let you both know that you were close. 

“That’s it, doll,” he murmured. “I want to feel it. Show me that you’re fucking mine.” 

Body obeying his command, the orgasm took over, and you shattered around him at the exquisite pleasure that undulated from the place where you were joined out to everywhere from the top of your head to the tips of your curling toes. 

You never wanted it to end. Your body flooded not just with pleasure, but with a deep fulfillment that you had never felt before. It felt as if he was now a part of your psyche, as if he was the final puzzle piece clicking into place and making you whole. 

He was quick to follow, hips giving one more sharp thrust before they stilled and his lower body shuddered against you. He released a vehement moan into your mouth, his chest vibrating with the force of it. 

You clung to him, stunned by the intensity of the moment. His sweat-dampened forehead dropped to your shoulder, chests rising and falling against each other as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually the muscles in your legs started protesting, so you unwound your thighs from his waist and dropped them back to the ground, causing your lower bodies to separate.  

After a few more seconds, he lifted his head and looked down at you. The tenderness and utter satisfaction on his face made your heart clench, and your mouth opened before you could stop it.

“Negan, I’m-” you broke off, brain finally catching up and trying to hold back the tide of emotion. 

His hand came up to cup the side of your face, golden gaze intent on yours. “What is it, doll?” 

Self-doubt suddenly rose within you, causing the words to stay caught in your throat, refusing to come out. What the hell are you thinking?! Don’t let the fact that he just gave you an amazing orgasm fool you into thinking he wants to get all sappy and emotional. 

Trying to fight any impending panic at the close call, you instead tried to play it off with a joke. “I think we might’ve broken our vow to be quick and quiet.” You attempted a sly grin, but it felt forced.

Furrowing his brows at your abrupt change in demeanor, his eyes moved carefully over your face, as if trying to find the truth behind the mask you had suddenly thrown on. Not wanting to wait and see if he’d call you out for the obvious deflection, you gathered the strength needed to push away from the tree...away from him. 

Tucking the shirt back down and bending to grab discarded jeans and panties off the ground, you silently got dressed with your back to him. The rustle of fabric and metallic clink of a belt buckle let you know that he was doing the same. When finished zipping up your boots, you picked up Ricardo from where he lay in the tall grass. A sudden surge of awkwardness hit when you ran out of actions to complete and so just stood there, unsure what to do next.

Much as you wanted to take off in a rush back to the Sanctuary, you had lost all sense of where you were. Knowing your luck, if you picked a random direction and started walking, it would be completely the wrong way. Instead, you stood there and waited, looking off into the distance through the trees, unwilling to make eye contact. It showed how well Negan could read you now, that he wordlessly and confidently started off in what must be the right direction, not trying to make you speak or look at him. It made you grateful to him that he understood and respected the need for some mental space, at the same time that it scrambled your emotions even more for him to be so in tune with you like that.

Starting off after him, it wasn’t long before he dropped back so that the two of you were walking side-by-side, Negan adjusting his long-legged stride to match your shorter one. Using his teeth to pull a glove off the hand that wasn’t clutching Lucille, he pocketed the leather and reached over to clasp your non-Ricardo hand in his bare one. 

You glanced down, taking in the sight of your smaller, more delicate hand wrapped up in his large, calloused one. His nonverbal offer of affection, despite the way you had shut down on him just minutes ago, made your chest tighten. Unable to continue the cold facade, you gave his hand a light squeeze of acknowledgement, unable to help the slight smile that tipped your lips when he returned it with a gentle squeeze of his own. Your brain and subconscious both let out the worried breaths they’d been holding with a sigh, as they watched you and Negan walk the entire way back to the Sanctuary like that: hand-in-hand.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[soupette]

Benchtrio? Boring. /j Benchtrio and Michael? My beloved!

Click to enjoy cleaner lines

+ versions w diff backgrounds bc I was playing around n saved a bunch of alternative ones lol

Image IDs under the cut

First image ID: A lineless drawing of c!Benchtrio and Michael, with everyone smiling. Michael is visible from the shoulders up with Tubbo behind him, Tommy behind Tubbo with his chin on Tubbo’s head, and Ranboo standing behind him. Michael is wearing a pale yellow sweater. His arms are up, his left arm leading into a skeletal hand and his right hand pig hooves. He has small tusks with his right tusk made of gold. Tubbo is wearing his Snowchester jacket. He is a mainly human hybrid with horns and floppy ears and curly hair that falls over his eyes. His firework scars are in the middle of his face and the bottom left part of his face. The bottom part of his left ear is exploded. His right horn is halfway broken off and his left ear has a red bandana tied around it and a golden ring on it. Tommy is resting his chin on Tubbo’s hair. He has three scars, a bruise, and eyebrows on his face. He had a white streak in his hair. Ranboo is half dark purple on the left and half white on the right with an unclear boundary, the colors having patches in each other. His left eye is round and green with a round pupil and the other is rectangle, round, and with a thin pupil. He has long hair, and the left side of his hair is white/grey and the right side of his hair is a very dark purple/black and more curly than the white. His eyebrows are the opposite of the hair color. His ears are pointed, his right one purple and his left one white, the tips of his ears the opposite color. He has two long, pointed horns with alternating stripes of purple and white. He has a small crown on the left side of his hair. He has a circle tail with patches of white and purple with a ring near the end. Three items are on either side of the characters: an allium, a disc, and a bee with the nuclear warning sign in its last patch. The background is white.

Following the text, there are nine smaller version drawings in rows of three of the same picture but different backgrounds. The column on the right going down does not have the three items on either side, and 3, 6, and 9 are on that column. In order of left to right, the backgrounds are: 1. white, 2. white with watercolor texture, 3. light pink in the middle, with two stripes of pink and darker pink to the edges, 4. the same color pattern but of darker pinks, 5. the darker pink background with watercolor texture, 6. a pale version of a center of Tubbo’s scar colors, the brown of his jacket around that, a white and red stripe the color of Tommy’s shirt, and a stripe at the edge half purple and half white with a bit of the other color in each 7. a darker version of the previous background, 8. the previous version with watercolor texture, 9. white

First image ID: A lineless drawing of C!Benchtrio and Michael from the Dream Smp. Michael is visible from the shoulders up, wearing a yellow sweater with his arms up, left hand skeletal and the right hand pig hooves. Tubbo is behind him from the chest up in his Snowchester jacket. He is a human hybrid with horns and floppy ears. His brown hair covers his eyes and explosion scars cover the middle and bottom left of his face, part of his left ear exploded, with his right horn halfway broken. His left horn has a red bandanna tied around it and a ring.

[e-milieeee]

golden (like daylight)—wings au

Notes: inspired by @celerydays ���s comic! 

this is for @thechatsmeow and @justaferal-bastard ’s wing au... bc i have become way too invested. no regrets :D and everyone who has contributed to the wing au content.... ily

altho warning: there is description of blood but its not in detail at all!! 

Summary: Who knew getting shot in the side and then thrown off a building would've been the way Ladybug discovered Chat Noir's identity?

Marinette certainly wouldn't have guessed.

Click here to read on AO3! 

golden (like daylight) 

Chat Noir is not present when Ladybug is hit.

It’s a mistake that she’s never made before; somehow, she’d always been able to summon her Lucky Charms in the nick of time, without the akuma’s interference. But this time is different. Chat had been missing the whole fight, not there to watch her back, so when Ladybug throws her yo-yo into the air she is met with blinding pain instead of a magical object.

It pieces into her side, with enough force to puncture through her suit and send her slamming into the wall a couple of paces away.

For a moment, shock is the only emotion Ladybug feels. She understands the pain in a disjointed manner, the sort that promises agony but does not yet register as much—and then it finally hits her.  

A bullet. She’s been shot by a bullet. Her vision is obscured by tears, too blurry for her to see anything more than a meter away from her. The world stops spinning until all Ladybug can focus on is the fact that her side feels like it’s burning, as if the wound is boring deeper and deeper into her body until it steals her breath and her heartbeat. And on top of that, her earrings have started to beep.

Ladybug can hear the sharp cackling of the akuma—Sharpshooter—who flits over to her, inky black wings beating behind him, his gun cocked in her direction still. Her wings drag weakly at her back, trembling from effort yet uselessly, and Sharpshooter reaches down to grab a handful of her suit. She is hauled to her feet.

The triumphal smile on his face does not belong to the akuma so much as it belongs to Hawkmoth. “Ladybug,” he sneers. “Look at you. Nothing without Chat Noir, aren’t you?”

“Put her down.”  

Both she and Sharpshooter turn to follow the voice. Hovering a couple of paces behind them, black wings beating furiously, is Chat Noir. He’s too far for Ladybug to make out anything more than the vague shape of his figure, but the relief that floods through her is almost strong enough to combat the pain. Chat levels the akuma down with a glare, baton in one hand, his cataclysm burning in the other. When Sharpshooter doesn’t move, Chat raises the baton. “Put. Her. Down.”  

For a moment, Ladybug thinks that the akuma just might follow the command. There’s something terrifying in Chat’s voice that chills her, even though his words aren’t directed to her. Perhaps it’s her failing vision, but his eyes seem darker than they usually are, canines elongated.

Then Sharpshooter throws his head back and laughs. “You want me to put her down?” he snarls back at Chat. “Then go get her.”

The next thing Ladybug knows is glass shattering like rainfall all around her. The pain tearing through her wings barely register, because before she can focus on them, the wind is taking its turn to rip them apart, feather by feather, like tiny needles jamming into muscle.

As Ladybug plummets down, she’s lucid enough to understand that she needs to fly. Except the pain in her side is now spreading throughout all her body, turning her movements sluggish. Her wings tremble uselessly behind her, a deadweight. She falls, faster and faster, the ground approaching, terror and pain and helplessness clawing into her throat and choking her with cold fingers.

This isn’t supposed to be how I die, Ladybug thinks, and with some wild, last minute desperation, she forces her wings open.

For a split second it works: her fall slows slightly. But it’s not enough to combat the sheer speed she has been tumbling at, and she can only watch as the ground grows closer and closer and—

A streak of black shadow barrels into her. The air is knocked clean out of Ladybug’s lungs.

She can feel Chat straining to slow their dive. His wings flap fiercely for a couple of short seconds before they envelope her and the impact hits.

A hard, brutal collision greets them—no, not them, him —as the punishment is absorbed by Chat Noir’s wings and body. He cries out when they hit the ground, rolling to a stop.

Ladybug lays there, winded and out of breath, nestled safely from the worst of the fall between the giant, dark wings that still shield her. The wound in her side has stopped its incessant agony, instead turning into a sharp ache that she has learned to ignore in favor of worse things. Her wings feel like they’ve been ripped clean from her back from the sheer force of trying to stop the plunge. Before her eyes, her vision flickers and blackens, and Ladybug struggles to keep her eyes open. Sharpshooter’s dark silhouette imprints against the blue of the sky, his weapon pointed at them, but the warning that rises is interrupted when Chat Noir pushes himself to his knees. With trembling effort, he slips a careful arm under her neck and lifts her head up.

“Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he breathes. His voice chokes, and Ladybug’s own throat closes at how terrified he sounds. “I was late because I couldn’t get out of the house when I saw the akuma attack and I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t come sooner. I—”

He is cut off by the shrill beeping of her earrings. Without wasting a beat, Chat Noir’s wings rise around them like a slow, laboured breath, until the blue sky is blotted out by inky black and she is cocooned safely inside a sea of feathers.

Her transformation slips when the first bullet hits Chat’s wings.

He doesn’t make a noise of pain; the only sign is the slight flinch of his body. But Marinette can see it: the stain of blood from where the bullet pierces through his wing, then another, then another.

“What are you doing?” she grinds out. “Chat, please, you’re getting hurt!”

“What does it look like?” Somehow, he manages a smile. “Protecting you, M’lady.”

He knows who I am. But her identity isn’t the most important thing, not when Chat’s taking all of the fire, his wings straining to keep her shielded. “Chat,” she repeats. “You have to let me help.”

“Don’t worry.” He winces, one hand moving, and it takes Marinette a moment to realize that he’s reaching for her ears. “I have a plan. I just—I just need to get you somewhere safe, and I need your Miraculous for now. Is that okay?”

“I can help—”

“No, you can’t,” he interrupts. “Can I take your Miraculous for this, Marinette?”

It’s the insistent way Chat says her name that makes her yield. They’ve met plenty of times as Marinette and Chat Noir, but never with this knowledge between them. But the bond between them is still the same; unspoken but strong, full of unconditional trust. And Marinette trusts him with her life.

“Alright,” she whispers.

Chat doesn’t waste a heartbeat. He takes them from her carefully, then, without removing his own Miraculous, slips the earrings on.

“Tikki, spots on.”

The color that rises from the combination of their Miraculous is one that Marinette cannot explain: it’s not Chat’s green nor her pink, but instead, a kaleidoscope of a spectrum much beyond known words. The color streaks from the Miraculous to his wings, which unfurl as black, white and gold interspersed together. Marinette can still see the bullet wounds of angry crimson, but Chat pays them no heed. Instead, still shielding her from sight, he picks her up gingerly. The claws on his fingers are gone, replaced by spiralling patterns of red and black that dance around each other. They share one look of mutual understanding.

Then, with one strong wingbeat, he takes off.

Marinette knows flying and speed. She and Chat have raced, have dived from sky-high, but this— this is another step of intensity altogether. Despite the wounds both of them sport, Chat moves with the same feline grace, even faster than usual. Marinette can practically feel the power of the combined Miraculous thrumming underneath and through his suit, diffusing into her veins as well.

They lose Sharpshooter in the matter of seconds. He dives through narrow alleys, over and around rooftops, until finally, they land on a highrise. Chat sets her down behind a large billboard.

“Stay here, and I’ll come find you after I’ve purified the akuma,” Chat tells her, squeezing her hand lightly.

He turns to leave. Despite her condition, Marinette manages to grab hold of his tail, pulling him to a halt.

“Chat,” she manages out.

His gaze is steady. “I’ll be back.” It’s a statement and a promise at the same time.

“You better,” Marinette tells him. It hurts to smile, but she does it anyway. “I still have to kick your ass for doing something so stupid.”  

He grins, wounded wings stretching open again. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world, M’lady.”

He dives off the building in a streak of brilliant, dying color, and Marinette can only wait.

***

Marinette knows the akuma has been defeated when the bullet wound on her side disappears, the pain in her wings fading until she is able to straighten them fully again.

But she still can’t help but worry when Chat Noir still doesn’t return. She waits, counting the seconds—thirty, sixty, one minute, two, five—but he’s nowhere in sight. He had promised he would come back, but he hadn’t, and given the state she had last seen him in…

The soft fluttering of wings interrupts her thoughts. Marinette scrambles towards the sound, at the edge of the building, having worked herself into a fever of nervous anticipation.

The first thing she sees are the wings.

Bright, golden wings.

It’s not the stygian black of Chat Noir, nor the palette of colors he had sported with both their Miraculous, yet it’s familiar all the same.

Adrien Agreste lands in front of her.

She doesn’t need an explanation. Marinette sees it, as clear as daylight. She understands through unspoken words—she knows , has known deep down, and it’s right. Painfully, wonderfully, right. Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste is her partner.

Of course.  

The nervousness on Adrien’s face melts into shock when Marinette tackles him with a hug.

His wings, healed, brush against her hands softly. Marinette grips the feathers tightly, burying her face into his shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, Adrien’s hands creep around her to rest on her back as well.

“It’s you,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “It’s you.”  

His body shakes when he laughs. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me? For finding out your identity? And for revealing mine? I thought it wouldn’t be fair if I knew but you didn’t know who I was and it was you so I thought I might as well—” He lets go of her to gesture grandly. “All of this. You’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad at you.” Marinette pulls back as well. “For being a stupid, noble, self-sacrificing idiot.”  

“You can kick my ass for that,” Arien promises, albeit a little nervously. “But everything else…?”

“Getting shot hurt,” she replies. “But maybe ‘everything else’ made it worth it.”

The smile that spreads over his face is bright like the sun, golden like his wings. “Here,” Adrien said, opening her hand and placing her earrings into them. Then, he adds quietly, “I’m glad it’s you, Marinette.”

How can she not smile back, seeing that earnest, open look on his face? Marinette reaches up, carefully and softly, pressing her fingers against his cheeks. He leans into her touch.

“Me too,” she echoes.

Notes: Click here for my fics masterlist!