#the hakama!!!! yes!!!!!!!

[pizzazz-party]

me and my 90,000 dollar/bell sword.

[kibutsulove]

Finally posting Hideaki’s ATLA self

He actually isn’t involved in neither Korra or Aang’s story btw, he’s something the new earth avatar has to deal with. For like. easily two books non-consecutively

[crispofftheblock]

Another thing I'll never draw a background for.

[tixdixl]

Y'all remember this post I made talking about how kimono carries visual and cultural language within it and how you can express so so much just by picking the type, the cut, and the patterns? I actually want to extrapolate on this and show how we can actually see that language used during the TWST New Year's event! (Sources will be directly linked as information is introduced.)

For some initial context, while the "plot" of the event is mainly just Sam's New Year Sale, a lot of the visual language, accessories, and cultural references used in the event call back to Shōgatsu or the Japanese New Year festival. This is a time where people WILL dress in traditional kimono and participate in traditional games, dances, eating traditional foods. So seeing the cast in kimono makes a world of sense.

The character I want to talk about in this post specifically is Ortho. His design for the New Year is honestly such a great example of how the different subtleties in kimono all come together to paint a picture, and tell you so much about the person wearing the kimono. Because ultimately, when I look at Ortho's kamishimo? All I see is brilliant foreshadowing about the entire plot of Book 6 and his role in the narrative.

The first thing I want to draw your attention to is the colors. It's the thing we see at a first glance. And while yes, these are the colors of Ignihyde, you might find it interesting to know how this combination translates in the kimono visual language. White, black, and blue are colors associated with and/or signify winter and death. So even if you had no idea that Ortho lived in STYX and was twisted from the film adaptation, Hercules, you could still draw that association from what colors he chose to wear and specifically which color is his base color - white, and which are his accent colors- black and blue.

To further explain, black is the traditional color worn when wearing mourning kimono. And white bleached cotton is traditionally worn as the garments of the deceased. While it may be a bit of a stretch, to me, the choice to use white base garments with black and blue accessories may actually reflect his in-between state. The way that real Ortho is dead, and this Ortho lives in his place is a huge aapect of the narrative behind Idia and Ortho. Grief and the negotiation of self identity, the path that Ortho takes to figuring out who he is despite being a living memory of someone who is dead, is not lost in the visual language of this kamishimo. I think, whether intentional or not, it's something reflected in how the black overlays the white, signifying that mourning and that life after the passing of another.

The next thing I want to actually draw your attention to is the era that the kimono comes from and the style of the kimono. This kimono is actually called a "kamishimo". The Kamishimo was the uniform worn by samurai during the Edo Period shōganate. The combination of the overcoat with the inner shirt, hakama pants, and specific style of adorned obi was quintisential for anyone who lived as a samurai. It signified their role in the government and their social status without the need for explanation, allowing people to adjust their mannerisms accordingly upon first meeting the samurai.

We know from how Idia refers to himself as 拙者 (sessha) and refers to others as -氏 (shi) that he and Ortho are incredibly passionate about the Edo period and very specifically samurai. So it really is a cute nod to that that Ortho would be wearing it. At least... if that's where the symbolism ended.

See the thing that strikes me about his kamishimo is that it's not a "real" kamishimo either. From the silouhette, color scheme, and broad shoulders, we can actually deduce that the kamishimo here is a theatrical kamishimo- worn in Kabuki theater.

Kabuki theater really developed and took off during the Edo period, especially during the Era in which women were forbidden from performing on stages. Many of the jidai-mono (historical plays) performed in Kabuki utilize yakugara (character archetypes) to make it much easier for audiences to watch and appreciate the narrative. These archetypes are often visually defined by uniform or repeating characteristics in their kimono, their makeup, their wigs, and their props as a short hand for audiences to be able to follow.

One such yakugara is called the "jitsuaku". This archetype is specifically defined by an "evil mastermind who plots to overthrow the goverment/feudal lord through rebellion", either due to seeking revenge, wanting power, or by whatever rationale the narrative gives him.

Here are some classical depictions of the jitsuaku in traditional artworks:

Source

Source

We can see by the depictions what the common color schemes and patterns used in their kamishimo are; the big/baggy silouhette with extremely dramatic, pointed shoulder pads; and the various decorative accessories and how they are placed.

Look familiar?

Ortho's silouhette very clearly harkons back to these specific types of kamishimo, that are considered archetypal of the jitsuaku. In other words, I have reason to suspect that the card designers of TWST are depicting Ortho as a jitsuaku... a evil mastermind who seeks to take over an institution through rebellion...

That sounds an awful lot like the plot of Book 6 and his specific role in the narrative to me.

This is all to say that the visual language of kimono is so so prevalent in his design, and I would extend that argument to every design in the New Year's line up - yes, this includes the most recent inclusion of Jack, Malleus, Jamil, and Floyd. And personally, I think it's genuinely so so cool and incredible that they would choose to add those nuances intentionally into the design in order to tell us everything that we need to know about the character- from social status, to gender and sexuality, to even personal feelings and emotions. It shows how much love is genuinely poured into making these characters feel alive and dynamic, and I think it's genuinely worth taking the time to appreciate.

And if you are still reading this and you are just starting to learn more about the visual art of kimono, then I genuinely hope you find this as encouragement to deep dive and learn more for yourself. Because honestly having that access and knowledge to those cultural elements and traditions truly helps open your eyes to all of the subtleties and messages that the creator wants you to see. And moreover? I think it really helps allow us to better appreciate the characters and the artwork on a much deeper level.

Thank you for reading this. I hope you genuinely found it fun, insightful, and maybe even inspiring. 💚

[tanuki-kimono]

FUCH YES furisode but men styled! I am living for this!!! The embelished kaku obi kinda mimics women furisode obi styles, and nicely counterbalances the long fluttering sleeves.

Men in furisode is A+ silhouette <3 I mean just look at those shots of Momochi-san's red pinstripes furisode retro-styled with hakama (find past photoshoot here):

[iinterstellaarr]

part two of this!

more suitor!gojo cuz i said so

the halls echoed with your falling footsteps. the estate was filled with maids and servants, all too eager to serve,

yet you had never felt more alone.

every day bled into the next. hours spent immersed in books, late night cooking when the kitchen staff had retired, and wandering the corridors in search of… something.

anything that might ease the growing emptiness within you.

while gojo was traveling, you would peak into his room. it was a mess, like a highschooler was occupying the room. the curtains were a sheer white that flew in the summer wind, and it eerily reminded you of a ghost.

his bedding was strewn across the room, a pile of decorative pillows sat unkept next to his bed, left in favor of two seemingly older ones.

you sighed and began to pick up the comforter that had been lazily thrown on the floor. you carefully made his bed, fluffing and stacking the pillows with careful precision. you placed your hands on your hip and admired the obviously very expensive bedding.

something about this small task allowed you a sense of comfort.

a sense of home in the labyrinth of halls, and a sense of control that you have so desperately grasped onto since you had first been made aware of the marriage.

“you made my bed?” you flinched at the buttery soft voice that came from behind you. his hair was down and his eyes were wide with shock. you never admired the carefully chosen hakama that adorned his frame loosely until now. he looked different in a way. he wasn’t the powerful ruler of the gojo clan everyone made him out to be. he was just…satoru.

however, lost in the view of your supposed husband, the realization hit you too late. you shouldn’t have been here.

“i- i’m sorry,” you stammered, stepping back in a rush, as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. “i didn’t mean to intrude.”

gojos eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment. “you don’t have to apologize,” his tone was far less playful than usual. “it’s just… i didn’t expect you to be in here.”

his gaze flickered around the room, the mess now slightly more organized thanks to your efforts. “thank you… for cleaning up.”

you stayed eerily silent, leaving satorus heart aching with the want to just reach out and pull you into him. your hair was delicately styled as your maids handiwork never failed. he had always thought you were beautiful, but he’d never truly appreciated it until you were mere feet in front of him.

“why don’t you sleep in here tonight ?” his words held an air of arrogance although he would swear he didn’t mean it like that. you slightly wondered if anyone had ever told him no.

“pardon?” your voice was soft and shy, like if you spoke to loudly you would crumble into dust.

“i mean, we are married, yes? it makes no sense for my lady to sleep in the wing furthest from me.” his voice held a tone of cockiness, as it always did.

you blinked, surprised by the suggestion and his arrogant words. stay here? with him? the thought felt wrong. not because of him specifically but because it felt like a violation. a reminder of how little control you had in this marriage.

“i’m perfectly fine where i am, and as far as im concerned, i am not your ‘lady.’ gojo.” you replied coolly. the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but it’s not like you disagreed with what you said. you did not belong to gojo, and he didn’t belong to you.

gojo blinked, taken aback by the coldness in your tone. he opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but then closed it again. you could see a slight internal struggle playing out in his eyes, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook. not now. not after everything that had happened.

you stepped around him, your movements purposeful, and with one final glance at his confused, almost hurt expression, you spoke again, this time quieter, but still firm.

“this marriage… it doesn’t mean what you think it does. and as long as i’m alive, it never will.”

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day fifteen: brat-taming kink

>>> god bless i love him so bad...brain rot for this plot...y'all should i make this one like a series fdskjkjgjkgj i swear to god i'm feeling this way about all my fics as of late!! this one has a lot of japanese symbolism and traditions included. i am not japanese and all my research came from different sources across google, but if anything is incorrect or insensitive pls reach out and let me know &lt;3

>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: brat-taming, history/pining between reader and geto, face-fucking (m!receiving) edging (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), breeding, degradation/praise, pet names, creampie >>> wc: 4.6k >>> event masterlist:

he didn’t love the idea, to say the least. he understands why a marriage is necessary. it humanizes him, makes him relatable, opens the door to more preaching topics. he didn’t understand why he had to marry his fellow sorcerer and old classmate—especially one as mouthy as you. you didn’t either, forced into it by the higher ups with hopes you could bring suguru back to the right side of history, not taking your feelings into the matter at all, not that you expected them to. but you’re sure they already knew you wouldn’t be able to complete this mission—perhaps they hoped for your death at his hand.

at one point, you were friends. now, you were about to become the unwilling misses geto, though even that was more complicated than it seems. you were the third musketeer back in the day. even shoko preferred to stay out of the boys’ shenanigans, sticking to herself or utahime, not bothered in the slightest to let you chase after satoru and suguru. you were closer to the latter, finding it easy to gang up on the former together. he entertained your  wit and you let him try out new moves on you. you loved each other. that’s why it hurt so bad—still hurts to this day—that he left and turned into this. and now you’re stuck in the thick of it. 

you make him beyond angry. putting aside your utter disrespect and disobedience, you remind him of nothing but conflicting times, things he’d rather not think about now that those days were supposed to be far behind him. you hadn’t changed a bit from the day he left, and he hates that even more. you’re lively and talented, your powers long abused by the very higher ups that contributed to his madness and the ones that leveraged you into this ceremony. when he was told of your engagement, he could have refused and had them find him a new wife. he could have killed them all and refused this altogether—he’s not quite sure why he said yes. he pulls on his hakama trousers, smoothing at the pleats as he racks his brain. he slings his haori around his shoulders, and he realizes a small part of him may have always wanted to marry you; he remembers fantasies of you in high school, recalling how badly he yearned for your affection. and he hates that more than anything. 

he knows you feel similarly about him, hence all your acting up. you had been short and cold and almost satoru level snotty with him through the engagement parties and wedding planning and obligatory dinners. you have the nerve to sneer as you speak and look at him with nothing but disgust. he’s the one who should be disgusted with you. you chose to stay with gojo over him, chose that world of lies and injustice when you could have been enlightened like him from the beginning. it’s only fitting you’re his bride, really. it’s what he deserves, as retribution for your betrayal. and he would make sure to claim what was his on his wedding night. the servants come to get him as he shrugs into his montsuki with a new smug smile replacing what was a dreading frown.

you wore a red iro-uchikake. and you look like a dream he had when he was a teenager. it’s ironic really. he knows not wearing the more traditional and all white shiromuku was another one of your jabs, but the color red was more significant to him than white. it means life, it wards off all evils. perhaps you knew that too, and that’s why you chose the color, though geto remembers you wearing the deep blood color often enough through adolescence that seeing you in it again makes some of the tightness in his chest let off just a little bit, even as you avoid his eyes. 

he looked magnificent. his hair had grown longer, and you had always liked to play with it before, but now it cascades over his shoulder in waves despite the top-bun halving the thickness. you could hear your heart pound. if you were to tell the second year version of yourself that you would be sharing a wedding temple with suguru geto, you may have cried from relief and happiness. but as you get closer to him with no guests to witness this other than the priest and a handful of temple ladies, you feel the coursing energy of excitement and nerves. you aren’t sure what to expect from him now that no one will be watching. you don’t even truly know how he feels for you. he has been making attempts to earn your favor, but that was because he had a crowd. 

he takes your hand and smiles down at you like he did when you were much younger and much less conflicted over your feelings. it makes your heart flutter like it used to, and your eyes widen a bit at his gentility. the priest offers his blessings to the gods as you two stand before him, hand-in-hand. your mind races. how much of this is real? and even if he’s being genuine, does it really matter? after everything he put you through, all the things he had done, the things he wants to do, can you look past it all just to love him anyway? 

the temple servants set up the sakazuiki. they space the three ceremonial cups evenly apart, and fill them with the richest sake. san-san-kudo. you bite your lip, hating yourself for your doubt. suguru gently pulls you out of your head and towards the table, to the binding ceremony of old tradition. he picks up the first cup, holding it to his face. 

“you look beautiful, okusan.” he smirks over the cup, looking oddly satisfied with himself, like he knows something you don’t. he then sips the first cup three times, holding your eyes. you feel your body burn, looking down at the kimono you chose and back to him. his fingers lightly brush against yours as you take the cup. you feel butterflies. 

“thank you, geto-san.” you tilt your head down to indicate your grace, thoughts fuzzied by his intense stare and old feelings bubbling up your gut. you sip three times, and he picks up the next sakazuiki. he chuckles, and you swear you see a little bit of light in his deep eyes. 

“are you waiting for titles until the conclusion of the ceremony, anata?” he piles on the mulit-meaning endearment, passing you the second cup. you nearly choke on your sake. 

“no. you look very nice, uchi no hito.” you take your final sip, and it’s geto’s turn to stammer. he expected a tsureai or muko, but the one you chose had so much meaning. your home, your person. that’s what you called him. he knew the shock and wonder had to show on his face based off of your smug grin whenever you set the cup down. you think you can toy with him, pull stunts with him. you’re much too bold—and he wants to hate it, he wants to smother that personality right out of you, but for now–he’ll let himself love it. 

“this binds us through our love, wisdom, and happiness.” he says the words to bring you together officially, tying your souls together for better or worse. he sips from the final cup three times, the symbolism not lost on you, and passes it to you to do the same. 

“this binds us through our hatred, passion, and ignorance.” you look him in the eyes as you take your drinks, and his dark pink lips stretch into a wide smile. 

“and now you are mine. how lucky we are to be brought back to each other in this way.” he chums, taking the wedding rings from his pocket as the priest continues offering his prayers to the skies. you hold out your hand expectantly, and he arches a brow. 

“nine is not a lucky number, perhaps we’re cursed instead.” you shrug, that same smugness tugging at your lips. oh, you’re going to drive him crazy. you give him hope and you pull it away, you jab at him and you’re so gorgeous that he can’t even be upset with you for it. he slides the diamond encrusted with black gems down your third finger, giving you a smug smile of his own. he can play dirty too. he extends the box to you and you pluck his gold band from it, sliding it slowly down his finger. the excitement builds in your gut as you become more and more okay with whatever this is. you always thought he had a point. the jujutsu society was so horribly fucked up–maybe he was right all along and you were the coward after all. i mean, where did all your loyalty get you? sold off to a dangerous man with hopes to shut you up for good? passed around mission to mission until your body barely functioned anymore? maybe you could turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions, especially when he’s looking at you with such affection in once cold eyes. you still hold his hand in both of yours, and he enjoys the warmth, but you’ve pushed and poked him just enough, these teasing touches part of them. 

instead of a kiss to seal this union once more, he leans down to your ear. “go get changed. i like simple lingerie.” he all but purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the order. you were losing sight of yourself at a rapid pace. you had hoped to hold out longer than this. his lips tickle the shell of your ear and a soft gasp leaves you. you tell yourself to be strong.

“and if i don’t? you’d be lucky to sleep with me at all, husband.” you sneer, and again he doesn’t know what to make of you, but he’s dedicated to figuring it out. he leans up and tilts his head, analyzing the lust in your eyes and the shakiness in your hands. he laughs at you when he realizes. 

“go get changed, little pet. we’ll discuss your guilt and attitude later.” he shakes his head at you, his gaze making you feel as if you were already undressed before him. he turns, tossing that confident smirk over his shoulder again for good measure. “red is your color.” 

and then the temple girls are at your side, ready to escort their new geto-sama to her new room in the geto estate.. you allow them, trailing silently as you wonder just what he was able to figure out by looking at you, and what lingerie you would put on for him. 

you choose a red babydoll dress. the sheer plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination and the tight fit of the lace leaves even less. it fans out from your body from there, the fluffy hem stopping just below your ass. seeing yourself in the mirror, perched perfectly at the end of the bed, you smile. you imagine that qualifies as simple, though you’re sure it will still make him crazy for you. you’re embarrassed to want that, to dress yourself up and present yourself to him just as he asked. your friends would be ashamed, namely one. but as the door creaks open and you feel an icy stare raking over your body, you can’t quell your excitement. 

he hums approvingly as the door clicks shut behind him. he’s so grateful he didn’t deny this union out of his own narrow minded rage. he never thought he would see you again after you denied him the first time, but here you are, on the bed you two would soon share in his home, now branded with his last name— all wrapped up like a christmas present. 

“sugurin–” the old nickname flies off your tongue in your haste, and a fondness glosses over the devious intent in his eyes. you clear your throat and tug the sides of your dress down pathetically. “i... actually don’t know what to say.” you blink in realization, painfully aware of how alone you two are. was he still the same man you knew? 

“don’t worry, kibōchi.” he returns his own nickname, the way you squirm in your place at the sound of it wasn’t lost on him, though the name puts you at was in the same way it stirs you up. his desire returns at your doe-eyed stare, you trust him to some extent, even through your wariness. “i’ll start. you were assigned to marry me, no?” 

you nod your head, now knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, not with the fondness in which he says your name. your core tingles as he approaches you, a scarily sweet smile on his face.

“good. thank you for your honesty, anata girl.” he nods, sliding his crested black kimono off, the only proper covering of your wedding remaining on his body, for your convenience if anything. “and you’ve been such a brat because…? which is it: you’re mad at them, mad at me, or mad at yourself?” 

you furrow your brows at his words. it seemed he learned everything in just an extended look at you. “am not a brat.” you fold your arms in indignation, incidentally proving him right. he just shakes his head, chuckling again. 

“look at you. you didn’t answer my question and you’re pouting like a toddler.” he lets his gaze drift down to your body just begging for his touch. he can’t help but wonder what you’ll like and what your favorite position will be and how fertile you are and what kind of drive you’ll have, all things he never learned about you when you were just friends. you feel his scrutiny and fight through your mixed feelings to respond. 

“can’t it be a mixture of all three?” you sigh out shakily, deciding to stick to your guns even if you want him, too. 

he clicks his tongue in consideration. “i suppose. but the sorcerers of your past no longer have any influence over your life. and you should be more forgiving to yourself, even if you are being a snot.” 

you scrunch your nose up in distaste, hating how his words soothe your heart. “you conveniently left yourself out of that equation.” you fold your arms and it only pushes your chest out more. you’re impossible, and it’s hard for him not to smirk at you. you’re powerless, he knows and you know it—yet you fight anyway. it’s precious. 

“i don’t regret leaving. i did the right thing.” he says, head held high. his devotion is moving, even when he looks at you with such a mixed bag of emotions. “i missed you however. i accepted this union to see you again.” 

you can tell from his eyes that his emotion is genuine, but it still shoots pangs through your heart as you recall days spent in bed crying over his absence. you turn your head away so the influence of his obsidian stare couldn’t cut so deep. “you left me.” 

“you didn’t join me when i asked you to.” he retorts, clenching his jaw at your argumentative nature. “i came back, just for you.”

“you came back to use me.” you spit, echoing the words of your other classmates. the look in your eyes is angry, this was something you genuinely believed. that infuriates him. “you were going to leverage me, until you provoked him.” 

his jaw ticks again. “and who told you this, satoru? i would have thought you knew me best.” he sighs his disappointment, grabbing your hands. he pulls you off the bed, your knees buckling you into a stand—then he roughly grabs your cheeks to make you look at him. “or did you forget just how close we were? how deeply i loved you then, all the time we spent together? you’re the one who betrayed me. you were mine! mine, you were supposed to be mine and you stayed with him!” his voice rises just a bit with his frustration, but he drops his grip on you and steps back, “i would have done anything to take you with me. and everything…could have been the same, i would have kept you safe and away from this life. We could have had so much more time together—and you’re being so goddamn bratty now that i have you back…what am i to do with you?” 

you blink rapidly at his speech washes over you. did he really mean it, that he just wanted you to have you? you were never intended to be used as a bargaining chip, and you let everyone else warp the vision of the man you once held so dear? you shake your head violently, rejecting the idea. he rakes his hands over his face, fed up with the back and forth. “i’ve compartmentalized you out over the years. but i have you back, and i refuse to waste any more time.” 

“i’m sorry sugurin—i thought you hated me!” you defend, reaching for him. he grabs your wrists again and plants your hands on his chest, moving his touch to your face. 

“then make it up to me.” he orders with a fervent nod, his hold on your face firm but comforting. you surprise him by leaning up and closing the remaining distance to kiss him, balling up his shirt in your fists. you were absolutely insufferable, annoying, bratty, and irritating—but he could do this forever. feeling you move with such passion, vigorously pulling at him and finally giving in to all those pent up feelings was enough to prompt him to do the same.  he memorizes your taste for a while before he pulls away and directs you to your knees with his signature rough handling, though he’s still careful not to hurt you. “i want you to really make it up to me.” 

you nod eagerly and shove your hair over your shoulders while he frees his waiting ache. he can hardly stand the sight of you on your knees under him, massive cock creating a shadow over your obedient and eager face. as gorgeous as you are like this, it was too late to make up for your transgressions. you salivate at the sight of his impressive length standing proud over you, curved and so long he leans to one side with a thickness you know will make even your throat burn. your mouth parts for him immediately, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs at the idea of relieving his drooling slit. “you’re gonna have to open wider than that, okusan.” 

and he helps you do so, planting his broad callused hands firmly on each side of your face, bumping his cockhead against your puffy bottom lip and shoving himself into your silky walls. you moan out in surprise and relax your throat, making your new husband grin at the performance. He’s perhaps unintentionally violent as he sheaths to the hilt, your nose bumping against black coarse hair above his shaft. “there, there.” 

he pats your cheek patronizingly, flicking away a tear that formed. “don’t cry, kibōchi. you were made for this.” he coos affectionately, body growing hot to the touch at his vision. he knew this was a great start to teaching you your place in life, and that being a brat was not one of them. running away was not one of them, you were permanently his and he would never let you go again. he pulls your head back off with that grip to use you, plunging your throat back down on him and biting down on his lip to keep his own sounds from interrupting your gorgeous gags.

“don’t you like this so much better than acting snotty, sweet wife?” he teases only slightly, taking your teary eyes flicking up to look at him as a yes. you can feel him deep, that burning sensation that you knew would come starting to sting your vocal cords. “you take me so well, i’ve always told you sorcery wasn’t for you. this is all you need to do forever.” 

you moan at the idea, him keeping you home to take after the estate and maybe even caring for the kids you may have in the future. he chortles, pleasantly surprised by you yet again. “you think you’re clever, darling. acting all sweet now so i’ll forget all about your behavior, hm?” 

he pulls you off with a lewd pop, pushing at the wimpy straps of your dress with a satisfied hum as the fabric falls away from your chest. “too bad. get on the bed.” 

your heart raced, but you nod. your throat was too hoarse to speak anyway. you weren’t planning anything, you felt like liquid, you had given into your vows and let suguru take you mind, body, and spirit—and he hadn’t even touched you yet. you wobble up to your feet and he slaps your ass when you turn it to him, which makes you gasp and stumble forward. he hums, predatory narrow eyes watching you climb up and lay in the center of the large mattress. he wastes no time in positioning over you. he spits, thumbing his lube over your sensitivity. he pins your fluffy dress up over your stomach, lulling you into sweet moans, your high building in your stomach rapidly. he doesn’t know where to look, you’re all too perfect. the faces you make, your beautiful, slobber-soaked mouth pouting out all your pleasures, your gorgeous tits sitting so prettily in wait for him. then there was your weeping cunt, so pathetically soaked just from sucking him off. 

“su–gu-rin~” you whimper out a little, your legs trying to close around his large body mass as the feeling becomes more intense. he hums, smacking your cunt. 

“brats don’t get to cum.” he shrugs, licking and biting at the insides of your thighs to tease you further. your plush skin is so sensitive, and he loves watching the way you squirm to get away from his canines scraping your flesh. you gasp in anger, orgasm ruined the longer he refuses to touch where you need him most. 

“brat?—you’re really gonna be mean to me, uchi no hito?” you pout, and he can feel his heart pang at the insistence and the sweet way you call him yours. you’re softening his heart already. he still had the want to punish you, but the need to claim you was surely fighting back.

“then apologize for your behavior or you won’t cum at all.” he sits up a bit, tossing some hair over his shoulder. you bat your lashes at him, knowing he was hurt by your choice, just like you were hurt by his. but now there was a chance to make it right, to be together forever like you were meant to–and if you had to apologize for your doubts in him, you would sing them loudly. 

“oh—sugurin, i’m sorry! i really am,” his fingers squeeze and toy with your clit, making your body jump as you try to stutter through your words. “just mi-missed you, that’s all, was mean because i missed y-you!” you writhe and wiggle closer and away from his touch simultaneously, and he hums happily at your speech. 

“that’s better.” he hums approvingly, pushing your legs up to your chest. he wants you to feel this as much and as deeply as possible. “such a good girl, did i tell you how beautiful you look okusan?” 

you nod, feeling the well of nerves heating up in your core, his hands resting on your knees as he looks over the disheveled lingerie. “told me at the wedding…” you sniffle, wiggling your hips for his attention again. 

“i see.” he frowns, as if disappointed by your answer. his hands feel your thighs and trail back to your knees, getting his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most with each pass. you whine desperately, and he hums out in fake curiosity, “what is it, darling?” 

“need you to touch me—please.” you squirm, giving him those irresistible doe-eyes. he planned to make you beg much harder than that, but you had him worked all the way up, your body, behavior, and the history between you was setting him on fire. 

“oh i’ll make you cum, kibōchi.” he moves his grip to the backs of your thighs as he moves his hips forward. you try to prepare yourself but it’s no use, he plunges in without any hesitation or resistance on your part. it aches, you clench down at the spread and his thumb comes back to your clit to rub the pain away. “but you can only do it on my dick. got it?” 

you nod slowly and his hips set a pace. he’s so deep you can barely believe he’s allowed to fuck you like this, the pain melting away to a dull pleasure, different from earlier. his gaze is still white hot and searing, devouring every inch of your body. “you really are so beautiful, sweet okusan. my kibōchi turned perfect cocksleeve, yeah?” he growls into the space between you, his fingers digging into the fat of your skin so hard you know he’ll leave his mark.

that draws a moan out of you, loving the idea of being nothing more than a wife, his partner, something you never thought you’d be once you parted ways. the feeling of him rocking into your body is addicting, and now you know you are capable of looking past anything he’s done or will do just to love him anyway. you would throw all your morals away just for this, and he knows that too. “my pretty little okusan, trying so hard to pretend she didn’t want me. now look, the prettiest you’ve ever been bouncing on me.” 

he leans over your body, deepening his angle and allowing him to pick up his speed. he watches the way your tits bounce at this pace, your eyes rolling back a little as you’re rendered unable to speak again, only lewd smacks of his balls against your ass and his feral grunts to be heard. his hand finds your throat, and his mouth drops open in response to your sweet moans and impossible beauty. you are perfect. he knew you would be, but your pussy was his personal kryptonite. “you feel so good, anata girl. you look even better, stuffed to the brim.” 

he smiles at the double meaning. you are his darling girl, but you are also his exasperating brat. god, he always knew what to say. your jaw falls, gripping his forearms to warn him that you were close. “please—need to cum!”

 he hums, nodding his approval, “then cum, okusan.” he commands, deep voice booming. his spine tingles at the idea of you taking your first round of his seed. his hair falls so angelically around his angular features when you open your eyes, it’s the final push over the edge. you choke out a moan, and then your nails are scraping at his biceps, his shoulders and chest, whatever you can get your hands on, and your release is rushing over his dick seconds later. 

“are you on birth control?” he groans, feeling his cock twitch in between your wet walls. you shake your head, chest heaving deliciously. “good, let’s see how fertile you are.” 

your eyes cross at his statement and his balls feel so heavy, squeezing tight and spurting out their contents against your womb. your head digs into the pillow and his falls back at the feeling of being so full and warm. he keeps his hips rocking, making you gasp with every stroke as he shoves his deposit deeper. You’re both panting when you look at each other, years of unspoken yearning and love being communicated between you. there’s a lot to catch up on, and a lot to relearn about one another, but one thing is certain: this marriage was fated, and not arranged. 

[domoz]

A drabble trade with @doveywovy, with prompts "marriage hunt" and "cultural differences"

The brilliant orange of sunset feels like it takes an eternity to fade into dusk.

The strings of lanterns around the edges of the clearing make tonight's gathering of anxious young hopefuls look more like a festival than it has any right to. If it were only Uchiha out here, it practically would be -- there would be talking and dancing and everyone would be sizing up the others out to hunt tonight. But there’s a group of Senju huddled together on the far side of the clearing across from them, and so the atmosphere is decidedly flat. Both sides keep well apart from each other, separated only by the tiny group of participants from other clans.

"Yeah, there's no way someone's not ending up dead tonight." Izuna informs his brother. Madara groans.

"Repeating how bad of an idea you think this is isn't going to stop it at this point." Madara sighs. "Haven't you already made sure a thousand times that no one out tonight is planning on doing anything stupid?"

Izuna has had this argument with him constantly over the past few months, and he's still loath to admit that his brother has a point. Putting a pause to marriage hunts had been sensible when the village had been founded. Nearly two years in, though, and it's starting to seem like they don't have faith in their own creation to survive the pressures of a time-honored tradition.

So even though this is going to end in disaster, the best thing to do to ensure Konoha's long term survival -- and Izuna finds, these days, that he's begrudgingly in support of that outcome -- is to hold a hunt anyways, and just deal with whatever happens.

That doesn't mean he can't say I-told-you-so afterwards, though.

"Our people, yes, but I can't account for the rest of them. I mean, the Senju all came out without shoes, so it's not like my expectations are very high."

"If I've kept my mouth shut about whatever has your clan lighting fires and singing all hours of the night leading up to this, you can bite your tongue on our shoes." Tobirama’s deep voice cuts in, the man butting into their conversation by appearing from the treeline on the Senju side, where he's surely been working his perfectionist little fingers to the bone over something that's going to be a mess anyways.

Izuna turns to him with a retort like usual, but he finds himself staring open-mouthed instead. He's known roughly where Tobirama has been all day, but he hasn't had eyes on him until right this moment. He's not wearing one of the four outfits Izuna has ever seen him in. No armor, no shinobi blacks or training clothes or that mess of dye the Senju call formal clothes. He's in a wave patterned haori, a pair of hakama that's secured at the ankles, and -- and no shoes.

"What the hell?" Madara sputters out a response before Izuna can -- he's too distracted by the string of bells Tobirama has wrapped around one wrist like the rest of the Senju participants, chest squeezing tight with too many reactions to name. "What are you dressed like that for? You're joining?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't." Tobirama says in that tone he usually takes with Madara that makes it sound like the person he's talking to is very stupid, "I'm eligible, and there are several politically advantageous targets. If I participate I can also keep an eye on anyone who might be planning on causing trouble. It's good optics."

"Good optics?" Izuna says, a little too shrill, "You're the clan heir! Don't you have something arranged already?"

He'd always assumed so -- Izuna himself hasn't exactly been betrothed since before he was born, but the list of acceptable candidates for him to marry has never been very long.

He really shouldn't be surprised when Tobirama shakes his head; he's always known that the Senju don't care about bloodlines. They probably hadn't even had to read through the genealogies of all of their participating clan members beforehand.

"Wh-- you're not seriously joining a hunt for political convenience?" Madara cuts in before Tobirama can say something snarky. "That's cold, even for you, Senju."

Tobraima rolls his eyes, "It’s not like I’m aiming  to get married to someone who hates me. If it comes down to that, I won't hunt anyone at all."

The two of them devolve into bickering, but Izuna is hardly listening. Tobirama is either going to walk out of the woods married, or never allowed to marry at all. The stupid bastard probably even thinks he would prefer that.

…It’s not like Izuna can join and do anything about it -- but that's not true, he only shouldn't. Certainly no one would be able to raise any complaint about the two of them being too closely related and, well -- it's a hunt;  if it succeeds there's not really any challenging it anyways.

Tobirama makes a noise of disgust at whatever it is Madara just said and excuses himself with, "I have more important things to worry about tonight than your empty head."

Luckily, Madara is distracted by chasing after him to try and get the last word in, so he doesn't notice as Izuna slinks away to go mingle with the hunters on the Uchiha side of the clearing. Surely, someone has some spare red rope lying around? It’s not as though he’s about to let Tobirama be inflicted on anyone else.

[demiesworld]

hantengu clones x demon!reader smut [preview]

minors dni! 18+ only!

"Mistress, won't you please help me?" Aizetsu lifted your head up by grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over, but you were still lucid.

"I... I don't..."

The blue-eyed demon pulls his pants down to his knees exposing his long, hard shaft to your eyes. It sat daintily against his abdomen; a pearl bead sitting the tip before he used his thumb to smear it. He lets out a soft sigh, a warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It's okay, I-I can show you." Aizetsu's other hand guides your mouth to the tip of his cock. "Picture it as being a dango treat. U-Use your mouth please."

His gentle words were a key to push you into doing it. You timidly nodded your head, letting out another feeble moan when Urogi spat on your clit and then dove his tongue into your haven. You parted your lips around the head of his cock and brought it into your mouth. At the feeling of a moist warmth on him, Aizetsu trembled but he didn't move away instead he leaned closer to you. His hand petting your head in encouragement. "Y-Yes... hmm... now stick out y-your tongue...ah..."

"Hey~ we didn't dumb you down, yet have we?" Karaku said and he pulls down his hakamas to his ankles. His cock was thicker than Aizetsu's and curved a little to the left in it's rigid state. "You still have two more demons to pleasure remember?" He cockily stuck out his tongue, the tattooed kanji on view. "You have two hands that are free, so put them to work!"

He snatches a hold of your hand and guides it to his lower abdomen your fingers tickling the patch of thick curly hair on his pelvis. He lowers it to the base of his shaft, using his large hand to envelop your smaller one around it. Karaku lets out a groan and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Fuck~ It's been so, so long since I've had a woman touch me like this. If your hand feels as snug as your pussy, then I guess we're in for a real treat huh?" His darkened gaze watches you blissfully.

[yeowangies]

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, Handjob, some power dynamics. WORDCOUNT: 583

Notes: Since I haven't had much time to write, I've been indulging in these short drabbles. And Kenpachi is just so........ yeah.

The slick sound of your hand sliding over Kenpachi’s cock was overwhelming your ears in the most wonderful way, his grunts and groans causing heat to pool in your abdomen. It was such a simple action, just your fingers squeezing and stroking his dick with curious enthusiasm, and yet it was giving you the highest of thrills. 

You had basically rendered a big man like Kenpachi useless. Standing in front of him, with just one hand wrapped around his erection, with fingers that couldn’t even touch with how thick he was, and yet he was speechless, breathing heavily, cursing with every twist of your hand. 

“Fuck yes, that’s it,” He panted, looking down with lustful eyes as you stroked him. “Keep going, just a little more.”

The tone in his voice didn’t make him sound like he was begging, more like demanding. But there was a tang of something that sounded so much like desperation, and you couldn’t help but smile, completely pleased with yourself. 

His hips jerked into your fist, seeking more of your touch, but you remained unfazed, keeping up the same pace, nice and slow, with a few harsh tugs. 

You had to strain your neck to look at him, barely reaching his shoulders with your height; yet you’ve never felt taller. He was such a sight, his uniform still on, his hakama pulled down just enough to let his cock out, the skin of his chest visible for you to admire it. 

When Kenpachi reached for you, roughly sliding his hand inside your uniform to cup your breast, you couldn’t help but tighten the grip on his dick, earning a wonderfully low groan from him. Warmth grew rapidly in your tummy when he harshly squeezed your tit before pinching your nipple. You bit your lip, a quiet noise ripping from your chest; impossible to hide it when he was touching you, tweaking your nipple for his own amusement rather than your pleasure. 

When you tightened your grip on the base of his cock, the grunt that escaped him was music to your ears. 

“Come on, baby,” Kenpachi panted, almost pleading, and your heart skipped a beat. “Stop teasing, give me what I want.”

You smiled widely, happy with his reaction, his voice dripping lust and neediness. His furrowed brows, adorned with a few beads of sweat, and his dark eyes fixed on you could not hide how much he wanted you to do something. You knew he was letting you have control, but it made you feel powerful nonetheless. 

Wrapping your free hand around the head, you squeezed enough to make his dick throb, pumping the shaft with your other hand. Precum made the slide easy, the wet sounds getting louder just like his groans were. His hips snapped into your fist as he neared his orgasm, the muscles in his abdomen tensing, and God, it was enticing to see him like that. You couldn’t wait to do it again. 

Kenpachi firmly gripped your shoulder as a way to anchor himself when he came, spilling his cum in your hands. The growl that rumbled through his chest made you so incredibly wet, it was hard to stand. You watched his face in awe as he came down from his high, panting heavily as his clouded eyes focused on you again. 

He smirked, the usual feral smirk he had when he was enjoying himself in a fight, before pushing your hands away and reaching for the ties of your hakama. 

[mtkay13]

The one and only Qi Ye trio!

Details on the painting, meta and more below!

So this piece is actually a "remake" of a much older drawing that I made right after I had finished reading Qi Ye:

First, I want to elaborate on the drawing itself. I usually don't like to detail the symbolism and ideas that I put in my art, simply because I don't want to impose a reading and I'd rather everyone gets their own; but following some discussions I have decided to do so for this one.

The main theme of this illustration is glory, power, and the ascention towards it. The principal symbol of it is, of course, the stairs going up. I used light, directly, colours and positioning to signify each character's relationship to those themes.

Helian Yi is the one in the light, ascending upwards, in red clothing. Helian Yi's power, as future emperor, is in the light, visible, going towards the heavens as the son of heaven himself--to enact his heavenly duty. Part of his face is in the shadows, and his being casts a broad shadow behind him for, of course, a lot has to happen in the shadows for him to reach the throne. He's looking behind as his ascension comes with dread and paranoia, never being able to fully trust anyone.

Zhou Zishu is entirely in the shadows, doesn't exist in the light. He's standing tall on the stairs but not facing upwards because his own way towards power isn't following the traditional path of having one's name being remembered in historical records. He is at his most powerful concealed in the shadows and doesn't look directly, his gaze unreadable.

Jing Beiyuan is sitting on the stairs, uninterested with the climb towards power itself, uninterested in the glory. The thin line of light on his figure means that among Helian Yi's closest allies, he's the one using his title and influence; light grazes him even if he doesn't want it to. His presence in Helian Yi's shadow signifies how he, along with Zishu, is quite literally behind HLY's ascension. His gaze is knowingly directed towards the watcher.

The main reason I decided to repaint it was because I wanted it to match my current style and, more importantly, my current mental image/character design for them. Jing Qi barely changed since my idea of him was fairly clear from the start, but Helian Yi and Zishu went through much bigger changes.

For Helian Yi, it was mainly a question from taking him out of Jin Wang's robes to get him his own. I really like Jin Wang's wardrobe in SHL, which is why I initially wanted it for HLY, but nowadays it simply doesn't correspond to how I picture him anymore. My understanding and/or envisioning of Da Qing's fashion has changed a bit as well, so I wanted to reflect that. In the original, he more seemed like a kid in vaguely chique robes that were too big for him LOL. His face was afforded a bit of refinement as well, especially since my big Qi Ye spread.

Jing Qi's robes are just a tad less flashy somehow--which wasn't so much planned as just... another design I had in mind. I still really like the first version of the robes but, oh well. His face is a bit more defined now, and overall more details in the quality of his clothing and in his hair piece.

Zhou Zishu...... well, haha. His original design was quite unpolished--a vague mix of SHL!Zishu and some random hakama I barely worked on. He was also very slim and had big eyes, which I just don't see anymore. He's bigger now, by quite a bit, both in height and musculature, and I made him look just a bit older as well--simply because he is older than HLY and JBY by a few years. I much prefer his current expression which is a tad more vicious but also a bit harder to read (I think). His robes, hair shape are much better defined and thought-out, and I am happy with the subtle shading on his face.

That's it!! Thanks for readiinngggg as always!

[brittscafe]

Hehe hello I'm new to this request thing.

Can I request a kenpachi x fem reader, scenario where Kenny is sparing with his s/o and they make a game out of sparring? How would he react to her cutting off his clothes piece by piece like a game? 👀

And kenpachi has a size kink and bitting/marking kink pretty please 🙏

omgggg hiiii!!! this literally took me forever to get out, I'm sooo sorry for getting it out so late 😭😭

Sparring with Kenpachi is a everyday thing, but there are days when it can get boring, so you decide to make a game out of it. So, here you are standing in the middle of the woods, getting ready to spar.

You wear a devious smirk across your face, holding your sword with such grace as Kenpachi has no idea what is coming.

"You want to play a game, huh?" Kenpachi asks, a smirk growing along his face. You smile innocently and nod your head.

"Yes," you reply.

"Let's play then," Kenny growls out, his deep voice ringing throughout your eardrums. Your eyes shift down to his chest poking out from his uniform, glistening sweat.

You bite down on your bottom lip as Kenpachi swiftly launches towards you, swinging his sword. You bring up your own sword, deflecting his attack.

The tip of your sword slices straight down through Kenpachi's black kosode and his eyes widen. Kenpachi lets out a low, threatening chuckle and shrugs his kosode off.

It softly falls into the soft grass below and Kenpachi's abs are now on full display. His black hakamas hang low on his waist, a little trail of hair leading down to what's hiding inside of his boxers.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip and Kenpachi huffs out heavily.

So, one by one, you cut off each piece of clothing he's wearing until he's left in his boxers. The two of you are mere inches away from each other as you ended up on top of him, panting messes and swords tossed to the side.

Kenpachi wears a devilish smirk across his face. He admires you for having the strength and guts to get on top of him.

"I see what kind of game you're playing now, y/n," Kenpachi speaks with a deep voice and you wear an innocent expression across your face.

You can feel his hard cock in his boxers pressing against your clothed cunt. You quickly remove the uniform and the wind feels good on your hot skin.

Your hands plays around the waistband of his boxers until you pull them down, his cock springing up and slapping his lower stomach.

To ride the beast below you was a task, but it's task that you're going to relish doing.

After all, his cock is going to rearrange your guts.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking it a few times.

You let out a shaky breath as you start to sink down on his hard, thick length. His cock fills up your pussy to the brim and Kenpachi wears a proud grin across his face.

"Does that feel good?" Kenpachi asks, cupping your cheek and his thumb grazes over your skin.

"You have no idea," you whisper, bending over and leaning your head down into the curve of his neck. Placing soft, wet kisses along Kenpachi's throat you start to lift your hips up and down.

Kenny groans loudly, feeling your walls squeeze around his hard, thick cock. Your lips suck on his sensitive skin and he clenches his jaw, his grip on your bare body tightening.

His eyes admire the way your body bounces on top of his, the tip of his cock hitting that soft, sweet spot inside of you. The way your pussy is hugging his cock and your breasts are bouncing.

You run your warm tongue along his skin and glance at the mark left on his throat.

His hands grip onto your waist as you start to pant heavily, a burn spreading in your thighs as you continue to struggle to ride the beast below you.

Kenpachi easily lifts your hips up and down, slamming you back down on his cock. You throw your head back, letting out a loud moan as pleasure ripples through your body.

A ring of precum starts to form along the base of Kenny's hairy cock and his fingers dig into your flesh. Each time his cock slides in and out of your gushing cunt, sloppy wet sounds are created.

You lean over, pressing wet kisses along his chest and sucking on his skin. Your lips feel so good and hot sucking on his skin, making his cock twitch inside of your stuffed cunt.

Kenpachi runs his hand up to your throat, grabbing onto it and squeezing it. A whimper leaves your lips and you clamp around his length, lifting your head up and meeting his strong gaze.

He lets out a breathy groan and forces you up and back down onto his cock. Your body hunches over as sweat starts to gather on your forehead.

Kenpachi's the only thing holding your exhausted body up, a series of moans leaving your lips as his fat tip presses right where you need him the most.

The sweet, deep ache inside of you starts to build up. You press your palms onto his built, plush pecs, holding yourself up.

"You started this and now you're making me do all the work, doll. So pathetic," Kenpachi sighs out, thrusting his hips up into yours.

"I-i'm sorry," you moan out, barely able to form words and you try and keep your balance on top of him.

You become a whimpering, panting mess as Kenpachi drills his cock inside of you until you're oozing your cum all over him. He chuckles deeply and a crazed look forms inside of his eyes.

His cock twitches inside of you and he drives his hips up, groaning loudly as he releases his seed inside of you. He breathes heavily, keeping his hips pressed up against yours as his cum fills up you.

"Let's play this game next time," Kenpachi huffs out, giving your throat a light squeeze and you nod your head.

Tags: @kr0wu

[vampcubus]

ACK- Romantic sub!Tanjiro, my love

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!tanjiro, dom!reader, public sex, footjob, this got a bit out of hand...

YES YES YES cus he loves romance, wants to be the best partner he can be! Always gets you surprise flowers, even when there isn't an occasion, just cus he saw them and thought of you <3 He gets so flustered when you return the favor, shoving a bouquet in his face.

"F-for me? oh, darling..." he sighs, taking the flowers graciously, even if the scent is a little overwhelming. He's a bit teary-eyed because no one has ever given him flowers before and he's so touched.

Deeply appreciates traditional courting practices like dates, and gift giving, and deep conversations about anything and everything. Loves that simple love where you understand one another without having to say a word, mindlessly doing things for one another to make life a little bit easier. He doesn't expect to be swept off his feet by his love, always staring in flustered awe as they do romantic things for him.

You wrote him poetry and love letters while he's away? Please his heart is melting as he hangs on to every word, admiring your handwriting as you profess your love for him, making him yearn for you all the more. He definitely keeps your letters on his person so he can reread them when he misses you. Wanna take him by the waist to slow dance with him in the kitchen? His heart skips a beat, eyes crinkling fondly as he gazes adoringly into your eyes, swaying with you to music you can only hear in your hearts.

Tanjiro is always treating you to all sorts of restaurants, reaching across the table to hold your hand as you dined on good food, talking about what you've been up to while you're apart. He startles so easily when your foot brushes his ankle beneath the table, creeping further and further up as the night goes on.

His face is beet red, and he can hardly get a coherent sentence out when the server asks if he's alright, did he need a refill? followed by a resounding "NO I'M FINE THANK YOU!" that makes heads turn and he hides his face with his hand until they look away.

He's begging you with his eyes from across the table as your foot inches closer and closer to his cock, though it's hard to tell if its for you to stop or continue. He sucks in a breath and bites down hard on his lip to keep from moaning out as your foot presses against his hardness, only for all the air to be forced out of him when you stroke him through his hakama with your foot.

"Mmf- mm, darling, please th-there's people watching us," he'd whimper, though his hips start bucking against your foot anyways, free hand clutching your ankle as he rolled his hips, grinding his clothed cock into the arch. "S-someone will see."

"Don't be so noisy and they won't see. You clearly don't want me to stop," you'd purr, sipping at your sake and watching him squirm with your chin in your hand, enraptured. Tanjiro shivers more under your lustful gaze, chewing his lip raw in an attempt to keep his voice down as his orgasm builds embarrassingly fast. "Doing so good for me, Tan. You're so sweet for taking me out to such a nice place. You deserve a reward."

"I-It's nothing, really. Y-you deserve nice things," He insists, though his reddish eyes nearly roll back at your praise, breath coming out in puffs as your foot sped on his cock. Your other foot joins in, cradling his cock between the other and stroking it through his pants. He lets out an aborted mewl, stuffing his mouth with his fist to contain it as he dances on the edge, so close to creaming his pants.

"Maybe after we leave here, I'll fuck you properly, yeah? Ride your cute cock til i've had enough." He bucks so hard his knee knocks against the table, the sound loud enough to warrant some more stares. You only smile sweetly at them, waving at them in dismissal as if you weren't torturing him with your foot.

"D-darling, ah...! Gonna, oh my, I'm g-gonna...!" he croaks, tears pricking at the corners of his round eyes, staring into yours desperately. His hand squeezes yours so tightly, and you only croon and stroke your thumb over his knuckles comfortingly.

"Go on, sweetheart. Show me you can cum quietly for me like a good boy." That seems to flip a switch because his eyes glaze over and his head tips back, feet planting on the ground to hump his erupting cock against your foot fervently. He does everything in his power to keep quiet as he spurts into his hakama, though a few whines slip out, he is mostly silent through it. "Hmf! mmm!"

And when he's finally finished writhing, he slumps in his chair, exhausted. Your feet return to the floor, and you lift his hand to your lips to kiss his knuckles oh-so-sweetly. He gives you a weak look of affection when he comes down from his high, a furious blush spreading across his face all the way up to his ears. He shifts uncomfortably and cringes at the stain forming in his hakama, sighing deeply though his nose.

"I can't believe we did this here. You have no shame!" he whisper-yells in an accusatory tone, though he can't quite meet your eyes anymore. You only giggle at that.

"You seemed like you were enjoying it, so who's really the shameless one here? You liked it didn't you, cumming in front of all these people?" you tsked, feigning disappointment as you shook your head.

"I-I..." Tanjiro starts, making a face. He couldn't even get the lie out, that he didn't love the thrill of doing such a filthy thing in public, where anyone could have seen you and tarnished your reputation. "Yes, I may have... liked it."

[sea-lanterns]

Yes, you could argue that the window is for her tail, but it still goes down enough below her tail that you could easily slip a couple of fingers to tease her 🥴

In a way, it kinda reminds me of the "easy access" holes in Kitsune Saiguu's hakama.

Xilonen, I hope the area below your tail isn't as sensitive as the area above a cat's tail, or you're in for a lit of teasing, my sweet jaguar

Don’t you just love it when your girlfriend wears clothes with “easy access” holes? 🤭

With her consent ofc, you could just spend the whole day surprising Xilonen by prodding a finger or two into her little shorts hole, giving her ass a poke to watch her tense up and purr. Imagine if she likes butt scritches like a cat would (above where her tail is) and if you scritch that specific spot, she purrs and raises her rear for you to scratch her more…

ACKKKK XILONEN IS SO CUTE. BIG KITTY. I LOVE BIG KITTY WOMEN 💘

[soveru]

SWTOR: Sith Inquisitor OC Headcanons

Hi everyone! This is the third time I've completed the Sith Inquisitor storyline and the first time I've running the DLC KOTFE/KOTET. So, in order to save and maybe share my vision of my character in the game, I have compiled a list of headcanons :Р

Noted: i'm not a native speaker of english and all this headcannons runs only in my mind, so don't take them too seriously pls

Spoiler alert under the cut (and a few screenshots from a game too)

Sith Inqusitor OC Headcanons

Meet Ha'leth Kallig, Darth Nox, Alliance Commander and so go on. The Sith on dark side, but making a bunch of "light" choices just becouse they profitable (and she's reasonable)

Woman sith inquisitor (oh i love so much her voice ❤)

So... i imagine she's much older, than in canon. Like if all story classes starts mid Cold War between Republic and Empire, i think my version have a seat in a dark council in the mid of war (near 3670, 11 years after Sith returns Korriban) Yes, its breaks the timeline, but she is old pretty lady in my head, and i can't change this

I can't create the proper version in game (a lot because its no long flat hairstyles) so i have a few pictures

Fashion lady 💅 Usually wears a long dress with slits, mid-thigh boots, mid-shoulder gloves and a cape. Sometimes changes to something close to a "hakama" (if you've watched the Ahsoka series - Morgan Elsbeth wears something similar). Maybe someday I'll draw all of this

Had a purple sword during acolyte, serving Zash and hunting Thanaton, now she has white (cos of her "balance")

I guess she really cares about her crew, even if she is on a dark side. Alliance included

Continues to search for Force Ghosts, there is no reason why the Sith Lord would not do this after defeating Thanaton "SI to Valkorion: - I always hoped to add your spirit to my collection Valcorion: - I would say the same"

Space stand up comedian, jokes on everything, black humor and sarcastic

DiFfErentLy RaTioNal, "Hippity Hoppity, this ghost is now my property" (c) - during the original storyline

Ice cream lover, of course

Chill guy vibes sometimes

I think it was a long time since she became a member of the Dark Council and before the Eternal Empire attacked. And all this time the pyramid of ancient knowledge was under her control and I think she learned a lot about the philosophy of the Sith, ancient techniques, etc.

Yes, in my story she is the leader of the Alliance, despite the fact that other forse-user characters (Jedi Knight, Jedi Consular, Sith Warrior) in my headcanons also take part in it

I think she is definitely chaotic but rational in managing the alliance. I haven't reached the end of the story yet, but in my mind she is the perfect candidate for the Eternal Throne.

She is not human anymore. Not after the Rakata machine changed her. I think sometimes she would appeal to this in her dialogues with other characters. In my head - this is another reason why she at 60+ looks at most 30

Did I not say? At the time of the events of KOTFE she should be somewhere around 63))

Definitely likes big machines)) (i'd like to think that exposes for Darth Malgus too 🤣)

Definitely likes ancient stories, artifacts and history.

"Oh dear", "Sweetheart" and any other embarrassing appeal for literally everyone

Flirts with everything that moves (and what doesn't move, she moves and flirts with) (Ah, i can't wait to return of Malgus further on in the plot, because flirting with him is something she would definitely do in every interaction)

Return to Dromund Cass to be shot down in Empress Acina's shuttle and crash into the jungle: "Ah, at least the Sith Empire hasn't changed too much in my absence"

Well, according to canon, all four force-user characters are the most powerful force-users in the galaxy. But considering that Valkorion is sitting in the Commander's head + her additional "ghosts of the Sith Lords on the wire" make her, if not the strongest, then at least the most dangerous of them by the end of the story

As I said before - all headcanons are just part of the story in my head that i want to share cos sith inqusutor is my favorite story) I think I'll definitely post a couple more heads up about her or heads up about other SWTOR characters later (at least when I finish the story) I also plan to sketch a couple of moments, because I really want to

[nanabansama]

Garb of the Kannagi

This will just be a quick post, but I came to the realization that all of our sacrifices are donning a particular kind of outfit.

Nene and Aoi...

...Katakuri and the washed ashore kannagi...

...They're all wearing kimono and hakama!

Not only were all of these characters sacrificed (or attempted to be in Nene's case), but they wear the same clothes.

Purportedly, kannagi in real life also donned these sorts of garments. Sometimes translated as "priestess", kannagi would serve their gods (or kami) by soothing them with songs, imparting their godly will onto the people, or even sometimes invoking their spirits and allowing them to possess their bodies--a practice similar to one associated with real-life yorishiro.

Now, regardless of how true any of that is, it remains a common perception of kannagi today. And it kind of has me thinking of somebody else...

...yes, Tsukasa-kun!!

Isn't that interesting? It's not exactly the same, but he also wears a kimono and hakama. Although he wasn't sacrificed while wearing this outfit as a child, and neither was he wearing it at his time of death, he does wear it as a ghost.

I've always been fond of Tsukasa's apparel since learning of its history as being used by male students during the early 20th century, making it a nice parallel to Hanako's own clothes (particularly when he dons his cape) which also has its roots in fashion from that time period. I figured that was the gist of why AidaIro chose this outfit for Tsukasa, but I have to imagine this link between the kannagi and him was intentional.

I wonder if this is supposed to show Tsukasa's connection to the entity that may still dwell inside of him, the one theorized--but not confirmed to be--the same kami/god that the kannagi from Sumire's village were sacrificed to? If so, I really have to hand it to AidaIro!