#and anatomy (theirs is so unique!!!)

[ohhiimjazzed]

NSFW Alphabet LMK Sun Wukong

CW: Explicit sexual content, MINORS DNI

A - Aftercare (what are they like after sex):

at first, he had to be told what made you comfortable, but after that, he's basically a pro. he's actually a very caring person to the people closest to him. that includes you.

B- Body Part (their favorite body part on themselves and his partner's)

On himself: I know it's cliche, but tail. it's something that's unique about him. it's what makes a monkey a monkey. so he takes pride in having a tail. He's the Monkey King after all. He's going to be proud of the Monkey part of him.

On You: your hips. LOVE HANDLES MAN. He will grip onto your hips whenever he possibly can. From the front, from the back, doesn't matter. It also keeps him grounded during sex. he likes to feel that you're there with him and that you're real.

C- Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he likes to cum inside if he can. it's either if he has a condom on, or if you are on birth control. (don't be silly, wrap your willie!). but if you're trying for a baby, oh, he is going to indulge in cumming inside you.

if he had to take another option, then he'll cum on your stomach or ass

D- Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's shapeshifted himself to have female anatomy before. and he's touched himself with those parts. it wasn't really a horny thing really. he was just curious to see how women masturbate

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Wukong is kind of a whore. He isn't a virgin by any means. But, this is the first time he's had sex with a human. Humans are a lot more fragile than demons. He's a bit scared he'll break you when you did it for the first time. by the time he learns your limits, he's good and he'll know what he's doing

F - Favorite Position (that goes without saying)

He's got a couple

The Lotus: (one partner is sitting in the other's lap while wrapping their legs around their partner) He's able to grasp your hips easy here, and he can hit it pretty deep

Doggy Style: (one partner is on their hands and knees while the other is behind them) again, he can grab your hips more easily with this position. plus it's a lot more animalistic. it unlocks the demon instincts in him.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's called you 'bro' during sex. it was one time and it was spur of the moment. did it ruin the mood? yes. was it hilarious? hell yes. what I'm trying to say, is that he's not afraid to crack a joke during sex

H - Hair (how groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

the carpet matches the drapes because it's fur. he's a monkey. there's gonna be fur down there. but, when you come along he trims some of it so it doesn't get stuck up a hole or something

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can get really romantic when he wants to. he's got the duality of calling you 'bro' in bed, to whispering sweet nothings to you. he's a cheesy fuck tho. he'll do the rose petals and the candles

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

he's rubbed one out before. he'll do it to the thought of you either if you're gone or not in the mood. he won't force you into having sex with him so jacking off is the next best thing (look at him doing the bare minimum)

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink: bro will keep it inside you after he finishes if you ask for it. he wants to keep it there in hopes that you'll get pregnant (if you can). he's seen how loving and caring you are towards the baby monkeys. it makes him want to start a family with you.

Praise Kink: it goes both ways for this one. he likes to see how you react to him praising you. praise him too while you're at it. tell him how good it feels. he'll go harder and try to hit deeper. also he just wants to feel loved and make you feel loved.

Degradation: call him a good little whore. he'll love it

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

he'll do it in the bedroom (obviously) it's the most privacy, but he also doesn't mind doing it in places around FFM. you just gotta make sure the monkeys aren't able to catch you two. some of them are really young and we are not here to traumatize children

M - Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

PET HIS TAIL! Do it! I fucking dare you! He'll pounce on you if he's feeling it that day. His tail is sensitive man. He might even moan outright if you pet it during his rut/heat.

Also generally being in a heat/rut like state will get him going anyways. (this is demon terms not real monkey terms by the way)

N - No (something they're not willing to do, turn-offs)

will not physically hurt you unless he know's it's fine. the most he'll do is biting to mark you. he's still a bit cautious about your human physique. he sometimes forgets about his own strength and will leave bruises on your hips sometimes. he gets really guilty about that

O - Oral (preference in giving, or receiving, their skill, etc.)

he's more of a giver in this regard. he likes seeing you writhe in pleasure while he gives you head. pull his hair while he gives you head, he likes that. if you really wanna give him a blowie though, he'll be driven wild. will whimper

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

more like slow and rough. he likes to tease you a bit by going back and forth from slow to fast. but he'll keep a good pace most of the time. when you're close to cumming, he'll go faster so you can chase your high

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves a good quickie as much as the next guy. he'll do a quickie if he's really stressed though. it's a good release for you both. it's also a time when you can give him a blowie

R- Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down for most of everything. for some things you've gotta talk to him about it and probably explain what it is. but that's only for a few kinks.

S - Stamina (how long can they go for? how long do they last?)

this bitch is immortal. he's got stamina for days. You have to be the one to call things off for the night because it's most likely he can keep going. he can even go all night if you're up for it

T -Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he'll use toys, but you gotta be the one that owns them. he doesn't really have toys because of how isolated he was from humans before Lego Monkie kid began. he'll use the vibrator on you if you ask for it. hell, he'll even let you use a strap and peg him.

U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

the definition of tease. he will edge you when you've been bad my guy. be fucking prepared. you have to like edging if you wanna have sex with him on a regular basis. he's not a monster tho, he'll let you cum, eventually

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

it depends on if he's on top or bottom. if he's on top, he'll let out some grunts and even a groan or two while he's pounding into you. if you're on top, he will whimper. DO IT. MAKE HIM WHIMPER AND WHINE FOR YOU

W - Wild Card (a random headcanon about the character)

after all that's happened throughout LMK, Wukong wants to repair his relationship with Macaque. He knows that it's going to take a lot of work and patience, and it'll never be like how it was. but, he wants to give it a try. there's a part of him that still cares about Macaque.

X - X -ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's about average size (4-5 inches) but he's a shapeshifter, so he can change the size to experiment. he tried to make it nine inches and holy jesus you couldn't fit that in you without a bit of prep.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he'll do it about 4-5 times a week. he won't do it when MK is over to train with him though. it's too much of a risk to have him walk in on you two. he can't risk having his student looking at him with disgust

Z - ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

he'll clock out when you're all taken care of for the night. if you're having a bath afterward, he'll probably be out by then. once you get in the bed, he's reaching for you. it's cute

---------

okay, thank you for coming to my ted talk

#lmk smut #lmk x reader #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong lmk

[merakiui]

thanks to the other anon I’ve been thinking about the same gang bang plot but you’re the octavinelle trio’s sweet, beloved and oh so trusting childhood friend

What if you were their human childhood friend!!!! You were a forbidden entertainment for them, as their parents constantly warned them of the dangers of the surface. But you were so fascinated by the twins and their unique way of doing things. They'd always bring all sorts of treasures from the sea for you and you'd return with human things for them to ogle at. It wasn't long before the two eel-mers managed to convince drag their octo-mer friend to meet you. He was shy and cowered away from you at first, but you'd regarded him so gently and sweetly. The lot of you became close friends, often meeting at a shallow cove whenever you could.

Throughout the years, as you mature and grow, platonic, friendly feelings evolve into something a little more...obsessive. When you lament about that one persistent person from your class who keeps trying to ask you out on a date, Jade and Floyd feel so monstrously territorial, and Azul thinks of all the ways he can poison that person, drag them to their doom in inky depths, transform them into some grotesque terror so that you'll never feel compelled to look their way again.

But they refrain, if only because they're in the sea and that bothersome human is tucked away safely on the shore, just out of reach. It may seem difficult to keep up a friendship with merfolk when the tides are always moving and life ebbs and flows with constant change. But then the surface is much the same; humans come and go just as mers do, only you and the trio never drift apart. If anything, your bond grows stronger throughout time. You trust them with your life, allowing them to guide you out into sea for an afternoon swim. They keep you safe and have never allowed any harm to befall you. And why would they? They love you.

So it scares you when they're pulling you into the water, forceful and direct despite the sweet lilt in their voices. The lower half of your anatomy is so unfamiliar to them, but they've studied plenty of textbooks on humans and they've seen you enough times to know where certain areas are as they appeared in the textbook diagrams. You fight them, confused and terrified, but they're all so strong. Struggling is futile, even more so when it leaves you trapped between the three of them, restricted by tentacles and constricted by the morays...

You want to fool yourself into thinking they're just confused, that this is a mistake and they don't actually intend on mating with you, but your swimsuit is torn to shreds and any delusion you'd been trying to uphold promptly withers away. And your virginity goes with it, leaving you bloody with bites and stuffed full of tentacles and eel cock, so fucked out that you don't object when they coo at you that they'll be yours and you'll be theirs. Forever and always.

You won't need to return to the surface after that. They're going to bring you to their home. It was just a cruel twist of fate that you were always intended to be out of their grasp. But now they finally have you. <3

#twisted chit chat #tw: noncon #n/sfw #uuwuaaa they're the worst orz i love the slimy scummy fish

[thrashkink-coven]

this may seem like a weird question, and if this comes across as disrespectful i apologize. but, could lady aphrodite be - well - a man? could they appear to a devotee of theirs as male instead of female? i know spirits' appearances are fluid and change depending on who, when, where, what, and so on, but, is it possible that they ever change their gender? i've never seen anybody mention it, and, aphrodite doesn't feel female to me, instead they feel as a gender-reversed version of themself.

DID YOU MEAN APHRODITUS ?!

Lol I love this topic. Yes! You are not confused in feeling a male or masculine energy in Aphrodite. There’s a LOT of really cool history that goes into the archetype of the God(dess) of Venus and love and war, but to make a very long story short, Aphroditus (or Aphroditos) was the male Aphrodite originating from Amathus on the island of Cyprus and celebrated in Athens. He was later then syncretized with the offspring of Aphrodite and Hermes, Hemaphroditus. Different interpretations may or may not consider them to be the exact same entity. What we do know is that both Aphroditus and Hermaphroditus are always portrayed with an androgynous, intersex, or transsexual body, a mix of female and masculine traits and anatomy.

It’s widely accepted that Aphrodite/ Aphroditus is derived from the Mesopotamian Goddess Inanna/Ishtar. Inanna is a very important deity in regards to gender and sexuality, as she was the Goddess known to transform men into women and women into men. She was the patron of transgendered, intersex, and nonbinary people, and her holy priests and priestesses were very queer! She was portrayed with a beard, breasts, basically whatever she wanted lol, as she was believed to be the origin of queerness itself. All bodies, male, female, or something in between, are capable of exercising the joy of Inanna!

In general, the energy that we receive from Venus has always seemed to be inherently queer, gender bending, and fluid, which makes sense for the planet of love- love for others as well as love for the self! It transcends our traditional understanding of gender and sex and shows us how all of these identities are beautiful and powerful.

People often associate Aphrodite very highly with females vagina power, which she totally does embody to the max of course, but she also very much represents love for the self that transcends the flesh. She has always been the biggest ally to transmascs and femmes. In some interpretations, the God(dess) may be trans and queer themselves.

As a trans man myself, I personally view Lord Lucifer as an Aphroditus, the beautiful son of an Aphrodite. The divine masculine aspect of Venus that exists within the divine feminine. Combined with his values of self love, luxury, freedom, knowledge, and the courage to be your most authentic self, I see Lucifer, Aphroditus and Aphrodite as the pillars of queer divinity.

#witchcraft #magick #occultism #pagan #demonology #paganism #witch community #witch aesthetic #witchblr #grimoire #queer community #queer #inanna #aphrodite deity #aphrodite #aphroditus #lucifer deity #luciferian witch #deity witchcraft #deity #deity work

[adobe-outdesign]

do you think you could review the swinub line? my little baby boy?

Swinub is such a lad. Look at this thing. Absolutely one of the most huggable Pokemon, with a lil' pig snout, permanently closed eyes, and the general anatomy of a stress ball. These guys use those snoots of theirs to search for food under the snow, like wild Roombas.

And visually, it's a very simple design. The pink nose provides a tiny bit of color, while the stripes on the back help define and break up the body. I also like that it's just A Creature, having a pig snout but having fur more akin to a small rodent. We can always do with more Creatures in Pokemon in my opinion, and it being more abstract makes up for a lack of real theme.

Piloswine is basically exactly what you would want from a Swinub evo. It's still a lumpy, furry winter Roomba, just with a much taller, more humped body shape that make it look more powerful than its pre-evo. It also adds a pair of boar tusks, fitting given the pig-like nose. Most importantly, the eyes still remain hidden, just by fur this time instead of them just being closed.

My sole nitpick with Piloswine is that I wish it retained a few of the stripes from Swinub, given how overwhelmingly brown it is. Alternatively, I could see it having dark brown on the bottom of the body or the ears; just something to break things up a bit. Everything, however, is good.

Mamoswine is a somewhat decisive evo due to being added to the line later on, but I like it—for the most part. The main addition here is ski-mask-like markings around the eyes, which, once again, help break up the body but also add some much needed color. It also gains some lighter brown fur around the mouth and snout, and even bigger tusks. The tusks, combined with the more defined body, make it look considerably stronger than either of its pre-evos.

(Side note: for some bizarre reason the 'dex claims the tusks are made of ice. What????)

So what's the drawback? Well, it does lose a bit of the charm of Swinub and Piloswine. The line's main traits at this point have been no legs (or rather, legs hidden by fur) and equally hidden eyes. It's a shame that Piloswine throws out both of those things, especially because I don't think they were incompatible with the rest of its design. The eyes could once again be permanently closed, this time just with a more angry expression, and the legs could've easily had more fur or even be hidden by it considering it's similar to a woolly mammoth. This would've helped keep more of the original personality in-tact.

That said, for being an evo added in a later gen, Mamoswine does still fit with the rest of the line pretty well, and does add something to it with its more powerful appearance. In that respect, I'm glad we got it.

So overall, a pretty solid line of pig-mammoth-things. Swinub is adorable, Piloswine keeps all of Swinub's unique traits, and Mamoswine helps complete the line even if we lost a bit of personality in the process.

Also, one final note, because someone ruined Mamoswine by pointing this out to me and now I need to ruin it for everyone else: Mamoswine's tusks aren't actually attached to its mouth, but its chest. Have fun never unseeing that!

#swinub #piloswine #mamoswine #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[lumiidragon]

Do u have any social and tips on drawing?

Not sure what ya mean on 'social' but I do have drawing tips!

-Practice! This is probably the tip you will hear from ANY and EVERY artist, but it really is true. You will not improve if you do not practice. When I say 'practice' what I mean is this: Draw as much as you can when you can. If you only draw for 5-minutes once a month, you're not going to improve like someone who draws daily. How much and often you practice will also be determined by your lifestyle. Work, school, social life, other hobbies ect are important as well, so remember your balance. Also, PLEASE use references. No, using references is not and will never be cheating. Anyone who tells you otherwise is full of it. Also, draw as much variety as you can as well. Always be willing to work out of your comfort zone, but also don't feel as though you have to force yourself to draw things you don't want to all the time. Balance. When practicing, utilize tutorials that you can find literally everywhere and try watching speedpaints/draws. They help me a lot!

-Learn your anatomy! Your art will improve so much quicker when you take time to learn anatomy. For some, learning anatomy in art is fun while for others, it's a bit of a drag. However, it's super important. Once you know your anatomy, you can push things in terms or art style because as the saying goes 'You have to know the rules to break them'. So before you go all cartoony and wobbly with your anatomy for a style, try to know the actual anatomy first. it helps!

-Artist > Tools! No, you don't need an expensive tablet or art program or marker set or brush set ect, ect. The tools do not make the art, the artist does. Yes, tools can make things easier and can be fun to experiment with and eventually everyone finds what they prefer more, but the more expensive your art equipment is doesn't mean that your work will turn out better. If you're a beginner artist, play with cheap mediums first. Crayola crayons and MS Paint can still make art. Only put money into supplies, tools, and programs that you know you will utilize to its worth. If you're brand-new to digital art, for example, don't go looking into a tablet that costs hundreds of dollars. I started digital art with Gimp (a free art program) and my computer mouse. I've used a mouse longer than I've used my tablet so far and even though I've traded in my mouse days for my tablet, I was still able to make some good art with the mouse.

-Get Inspired By Others, But Don't Compare! Every artist, big and small has looked at someone else's work and told themselves "Why can't I draw like that? My work isn't as good as theirs.". This is a good way to put yourself down and to take the fun out of your art along with turning a blind eye to the progress you have actually made. Instead, look at other people's work and inspire yourself. What about their work do you like? Is there any technique that they do that you can try out? Break down how they put their art together and maybe you can learn from it. Of course, never copy a person's artwork or directly steal, but take away inspiration. Do you like how they do facial expressions? Do you like they way they do anatomy? Do you like how their lineart looks? Do you like how they color? What about someone else's art do you love, and take inspiration. Take it from multiple sources and you'll find all sorts of unique ways people make art that you can try out for yourself!

-KEEP YOUR OLD ART! Especially if you're a beginner at art, this is important. It's super easy to look at your art and go 'ew', before deleting it or throwing it in the trash. Don't do that. Your future self will thank you for hanging onto all of your old art so you can go back and see just how much you've truly improved. Also, it's fun to go back and redraw old art!

These are just some tips I have and I do hope they help!

[manta-bae]

Manta-Bae Masterpost

Be that bae the manta way 🌊

Manta-baes are species of anthropomorphic manta rays! They can prevail in both aquatic and terrestrial realms. They also have a tiny cute manta-baby form!!!

It’s an open species!!! Designs are very flexible!!! Make your own manta-baes and manta-babies!!!! Join the squadron!

MANTA FACT: A group of manta rays is called a squadron!

Links

(click on underscored text!)

Read below the cut to see traits and examples!

Manta-Bae Rules — Be kind! Make a splash!

Manta-Bae FAQ — Common questions about the species are answered here!

F2U Bases / Manta Base Database [soon] — Don’t want to draw your manta-bae from scratch? Snag free bases here! (Picrew soon when I feel like it)

Masterlist / MantaList [soon] — The species’ masterlist, or more properly named the MantaList is a place where you can find approved manta-baes! Approval is entirely optional! You can submit your manta-bae to be showcased in the MantaList by filling this form.

ToyHouse World / The Manta Bay [soon] — Join the squadron of manta-baes and submit your manta-baes here!

Discord / D’Manta Bay [soon] — Interact with the manta-bae community! Chat! Share art! Share manta-baes! Share adopts! Be silly! MANTA-MOJIS?! NO WAY!!!

• Basic Traits

Manta-Bae

This is the form a manta-bae could poof into once they mature into an adult! You can freely adopt ANY other trait into your manta-bae character beyond the specified basics below! Go crazy with markings and colors!

Anatomy — Manta-baes stand upright on two legs, with a human-like body structure. Their heights ranges from 100-230cm tall! Their arms are imbued within their fins, resembling the wings of a manta ray. This unique feature of theirs is called a mantle. Their mantles usually start around the sides of their head to the upper sides of their neck and diverges from their humanoid forms around their shoulder blades and armpits. They have tails that begin at the end of their mantles. On top of that, they have cephalic fins around their face or mouth and can be upright or droop downwards. Their skin has a sleek, glistening texture to aid in swimming. Nubby feet are not necessary!

Coating — A coating of slime or mucus on their skin is optional. It makes them slippery and is especially convenient for manta-baes who find themselves spending more time underwater. A manta-bae’s slime coating is much more resistant to oils than real life manta rays, so it’s fine to be touched by anyone of any skin!

MANTA FACT: The mucus coating in real life manta rays protects them by repelling bacteria. Oils from your hand could harm this mucous coating and make the manta rays more susceptible to infections or the rapid peeling of skin. So, hands off the rays!

Manta-Baby

All manta-baes have a manta-baby form but not all manta-babies have a manta-bae form. This is the form manta-baes assume before maturity. Basically a mini manta-bae. When mature, they can choose to poof into this form whenever they feel like it. You can freely adopt ANY other trait into your manta-baby character beyond the specified basics below! Go crazy with markings and colors!

Anatomy — Manta-babies, as the name suggests, is a manta-bae in baby form. I personally call it the pancake form. These forms resemble real-life manta rays but are more reminiscent of plushie manta rays than their actual living counterparts. Their disc length (this refers to the length between their mouth and the base of their tail) ranges from 10-30cm.

MANTA FACT: Rays in real life can range from 60cm (Mobula diabolis) to 700cm (Manta birostris) wide. Big girls!!!

Coating — All manta-babies possess a coating of slime in this form whether or not their manta-bae forms have it too or not.

• Example Manta-Baes

I present to you, the first manta-bae and debatably the species’ mascot: Nautica (they/she)!

By @anonymocha /// You can ask them silly questions or just ask stuff about the species here! I am well aware about how they look like a rabbid.

Lemon (they/them)

By @skal98k /// “THEY ARE THERE” -Skal

Eva (she/her) :3

By @anonymocha /// She is an established character who I turned into a manta-bae.

More will be added soon once I return to the sea to catch them :3

Thanks for reading! 🌊 Have a question or just want to chat? Contact me at @anonymocha here or Discord! You can also ask Nautica!

#open species #manta-bae info

[sweaterrat]

H-How? How do you keep making great art? Please give any tips if you feel like it 💜💛

Hello there!! <333 Thanks for stopping by! Sorry this took so long to do! Thank you for being so patient :]

To answer your questions, I’m not very great at advice 😭😭 I’m a self taught artist so I mostly learned things by experimentation (and a bit of YouTube 🐈‍⬛ )!!! Anywaysss here’s some tips that I got stuffed in my pocket :]

——————————————————————————————————

⭑|| Don’t compare your work to others!! It’s totally okay to use others art as a reference and an inspiration (as long as you don’t trace ofc!) but try not to compare yourself to other people. It can make you really unmotivated and possibly eat away at your self esteem!! Remember that you are an amazing artist in your own amazingly creative way!! <3

⭑|| Use references!!! FOR GOODNESS SAKE USE REFERENCES!! Your art is definitely going to come out better if you use a reference! And if you need to, you can use a base drawing! (I use base drawings as refs for my art some times and it really helps!)

⭑|| Watch tutorials! You can learn a whole bunch of stuff from YouTube! Leaning basic anatomy is really important as well! There are also loads of tutorials on tiktok and tumblr! Someone who I watch a lot is BlueBiscuits on YouTube!! They have a lot of good tutorials and it helps a bunch! :D ⭑|| Develop your style by studying your favorite artists!! How I got better was by doing art studies of pieces that I really liked! I tried to find out what made their art uniquely theirs! Now, this doesn’t mean trace others art. While tracing is a form of practice for some people, you should never trace someone’s art and claim it as yours! It’s better to use someone’s art as a reference instead! (credit them if needed ofc!)

⭑|| Practice and Experiment! PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE!!! If you’re bad at hands, practice that! If you’re not so great at anatomy, get to work! Ask yourself what you’re struggling at. Practice makes progress!! (There’s no such thing as perfect ^^) Experiment with different things! Shadows, Color theory, etc! But remember, don’t burn yourself out and take breaks! <3 I hope these helped at least a little bit!! As I said, I’m not great with advice 😭 Anywizzle! Hope you have a wonderful day!!! <333 – Your Local, Sweater Rat 🍋

#art tips #asks #ratspeaks #tips and tricks

[selfindulgentraptor]

I wanted to do a little PSA of sorts about art style, I've been reflecting on my own recently and have a few suggestions for anyone who feels conflicted about theirs/feels they haven't found it yet:

1. You don't need to find your style because you *already have it*. Art style isn't just one single thing, it's a mix of your inspirations and your personal sensibilities. If 20 artists drew the same thing and I was familiar with your work, I'd be able to pick out your drawing. Every line you draw is influenced by your unique perception-if anything, it's near impossible to *not* leave a visible fingerprint in your art.

2. Your style is always changing, just like the rest of you changes as you gain new experiences. You're not gonna wake up one day and have "perfected" your style. It's gonna ebb and flow and do wacky stuff and that's ok. You might go through phases where you're inspired by one thing and then move on, that's ok, encouragable actually (see point 4)

3. If your art style currently doesn't match your tastes (which is possible btw and very frustrating) then it's time to experiment. Try things you haven't tried before. Brushes, media, subject matter, colours, compositions, etc. that interest you. This might also involve learning technical skills like anatomy or painting or colour theory if the style elements you're going for require an understanding of those things.

4. A great exercise is gathering a collection of other peoples' art that inspires you (ex. Pinterest). You can go through and pick out little things you like. Notice trends and analyze what each piece does successfully. Then go incorporate those things into your art. Heck, even replicate or mimic your references as personal studies. Once you do that you can start to mash together all your favourite things into hopefully a style you're more happy with.

5. Never feel like you're betraying your style for trying something new. Your artistic fingerprint is ALWAYS there, all you're doing is figuring out new ways to show it off.

Personality, I don’t even think about “my style” when I’m drawing most of the time. It kind of just shows up no matter what I do, and knowing that allows me to focus on more important things like tone, composition, creativity in general. So, if you haven’t already, just take a moment not to care what your style is and instead draw what you feel is most appropriate for your current piece.

#art #art advice #art style

[evolutionsvoid]

It is funny how easy it is to overlook the common things in life. When you do or see the same thing every day, again and again, it almost becomes imperceptible. You don't think twice about it, it is just a routine at that point. So when others ask you stuff about it, you don't act like it is a big deal. Same thing every day, right? Doesn't everyone do this? It's only when you run into an outsider to your day-to-day life that you are given a chance to realize the wonder you often overlook. When they start excitedly asking questions and pointing out stuff you never thought much about, that is when it all hits you. Maybe there is magic in the mundane, because it turns out it is never "mundane" to everyone! So take a good long look at the "normal" and "common" things in your life, and I guarantee you will find that there is something special to it.

I bring this all up because I too never realized the wonder within the common things. It came up when I was talking to a colleague who stopped by to visit me at home. They were from overseas, having traveled to this land to work on a research project of theirs. During the personal tour I gave them, I made mention of gardenbacks, which got them all excited. They suddenly asked if we had any nearby and if we could go see them. I pointed out that there was a whole farm of them just down the ways, and they nearly dragged me the whole way there. At first, I was confused about why they were so pumped up about livestock, but then I remembered that this species isn't native to their homeland. Once we got to the farm, they were absolutely ecstatic. This joy was infectious, and it made me realize that there was more to this species than just being a simple farm animal. I never thought of making an entry for them, because why bother? Doesn't everyone know what a gardenback is? Surely this is a species that needs no mention or description, but now I know better. If I am to truly research and document every species in this massive world, I must look at the ones that exist right outside my front door. The gardenback is a terrestrial gastropod that lives in temperate to tropical climates. They live in places with lots of green, as well as water, be it from ponds or rainfall. They like the heat, but are able to tolerate the cold. In regions where winters are strong, the gardenback turns to hibernation to avoid the harsher months. Forest, field, grassland or jungle will do for them, as long as there are plenty of plants to graze on. Gardenbacks are not easy to miss, due to their large size and magnificent (but not quite Brilliant, ha) appearance. They stride across the land on six legs, and browse from the trees and shrubs with a long, flexible neck. Atop their head are hardened antenna that aid with sensing and defense. While these antenna/antlers (antennlers?) look impressive, the real show is further down their body. It starts from their back and then grows downward into a dragging cloak, almost like a peacock with their marvelous tail feathers. Here, it is countless bulb-like growths, swollen and colored by the fluids within. They are mostly green, but turn purple or pink at the tip, almost mimicking a flower, thus leading to their name. It is quite the shroud they carry with them, but it isn't just for looks!

You will see gardenbacks grazing on any vegetation they can find, mostly targeting trees and high growing plants. Their long neck lets them reach places that haven't been picked over, giving them access to more food. Tendrils around the mouth help pick out the best leaves, and a modified radulla grinds up tough rinds and sheaths. Though they are quite large, you may notice they don't eat as much as other big herbivores. Most you see tend to graze from sun up to sun down, but these beasts have periods of rest or have even been seen going days without food! How can this be? Well, it turns out they don't just eat these plants for nutrition! Gardenbacks have a unique anatomy that allows them to absorb certain parts of their veggie diet and transfer it to specific body parts. Mainly, gardenbacks can extract the light converting parts of plants and store them in their bulbous growths. With a proper coating of these green pods, they too can absorb light and convert it into food, allowing the gardenback to photosynthesize as well! That is how they are able to go on without food during droughts or harsh times, as they just rely on the sun to give them energy. Eating vegetation gives them additional nutrients, which is eventually needed for a mobile creature like themselves! Gardenbacks essentially face the same energy issue as dryads! Yes, the sun is enough to feed most plants, but that is because they stay in one place. Having an active lifestyle like the two of us burns extra energy. We may be able to go off the sunlight for days on end, but only if we slow down. If we keep on moving about, then we need to find some extra sources of fuel! Eating is the solution to that, so when the option is available, we shall feast! In the worst of times, gardenbacks can even eat their own back growths, digesting it completely to get every drop of nutrition they can. The hope is that better times are around the corner, so they can find vegetation and restock their lost coat.          

This green cloak is an excellent source of food for them, but that also means others may wish for a bite. Funny enough, predators are not the real problem here, as those pods still contain vegetable juices that do not work well with a digestive system focused on meat. Carnivores will want to target their more fleshy bits for actual food. The truth is, herbivores and omnivores are the biggest threats, as they see those bulbs as a juicy buffet! They try to find ways to nab some of these growths, either through stealth or trapping the gardenback. Often they do not kill the creature, just make off with a swath of their bulbs. This is because the gardenback will grow these back, which means a renewable source of food! To avoid being robbed like this, gardenbacks use their long necks and hardened horns to batter foes. They can slam into attackers with incredible force, goring them or sending them flying. Their legs also possess sharp claws, normally used for digging up the ground or grappling with branches. If cornered, they won't hesitate to use these as weapons. These bulbs also attract the attention of parasites, who seek to burrow into the bulbous coat and feed off the juices. To cut down on these little feeders, gardenbacks will take time to groom, using their tendrils and long necks to reach their back and clean. They also rely on birds and other parasite eaters to get rid of these nasty critters. Turns out, a lot of creatures like what the gardenback has to offer, and that includes us!

At the beginning, I made mention that the gardenbacks are kept as livestock, and it is precisely for these bulbs! These creatures are perfect for us dryads! Our homes have plenty of plants, so there is food for them, and we make sure our homes get plenty of sunlight so we can photosynthesize too! Gardenbacks are easy to take care of and their regenerative properties means that a small herd can still create a whole lot of food. Their plump bulbs are filled with nutrients and also have that green juice that helps with sunlight absorption. It is excellent as a food, and refreshing as a drink, giving plenty of ways to prepare these growths. And since they grow back, farmers can just harvest a bunch of them without harming their herd. Sustainable practices with this species goes a long way, allowing farms to get along fine with only a handful of gardenbacks. In fact, some households will just have a single gardenback on the premises, and that is enough to provide plenty of bulbs for the family! This seemingly endless supply will probably never run out of demand, as dryads can't get enough of them! They have been found to be an excellent food for transitioning saplings from nectar to more solid foods once their stomachs grow in. The juiciness of the bulb makes it easy to eat and digest, and the nutrients is said to give growing saplings quite the boost! These growths are also said to be great for sick dryads, mainly those who are losing their green and energy. Mixing this green juice with other special ingredients creates a homemade brew that is believed to help the sick get better. It is an easy to drink concoction, but it does get a little bad rep for being brought out only when someone is sick. Drink enough of that stuff over the years, and your mind starts to equate the stuff with disease. Some dryads have sworn that if you bring out a jar of this medicine, they immediately start feeling queasy even if they are perfectly fine.   Outside of farming, gardenbacks have also been taken in as pets. Their size does mean that the family needs plenty of space for them to wander, and it can't exactly come indoors. However, gardenbacks are rather friendly and can be trained, so they find ways to be part of the family. Often you will see them sticking their heads through windows, looking for food and praise. Obviously their pods are still taken for food, but they have others uses too. With proper training, dryads have used them to reach high places, pull heavy loads or even act as transport! Their slow moving may seem useless for long distance travel, but their strength and capabilities do offer some bonuses. After all, it can feed itself with sunlight and even feed you! Not the greatest if you need to go somewhere fast, but long treks with little supplies is where these things can shine! Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------------------ The leaf sheep was an animal that was due for a monster, so finally here we are!

#monster #creature #slug #leaf sheep #gastropod #art #drawing

[skekpen]

I’ve been told that I do a better job than most westerners at drawing stuff that has the “anime aesthetic”. I can tell you how I do it.

everybody already knows this, but of course first you have to practice drawing things with realistic anatomy and proportions and perspective and all that before you can draw anime/cartoons/stylized things that look good. read "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain" by Betty Edwards for help with this. practice drawing from life/photos alongside drawing for fun. I spend about 10 minutes per day doing exercises and studies. the rest I spend drawing bullshit that I want to draw.

okay so,

Don’t try to draw something that looks like anime. Don’t think that way. Instead, try to draw a human being with as few lines as you possibly can, while still capturing everything you want your viewers to see. Then you pick and choose features you want to enlarge/emphasize or shrink/minimize. with anime, it's usually facial features that get distorted and stylized the most. there's a lot of stylized neoteny in anime, even in the ones that aren't trying to look cute.

for example - eyes are pretty, and they show a shitload of emotion. so you’ll probably want to draw big, expressive eyes that follow the visual logic of anatomically correct eyes.

another example - you can’t show much emotion or movement with a nose normally, so you might want to draw just the bare minimum to show the shape of the nose (I often just draw the shadow cast by the nose and none of the nose itself - something I picked up from late 80s anime)

now with this in mind, don't try to go for a generic "anime" look. that doesn't actually exist, and I think this is where a lot of people get tripped up and end up drawing that weird kind of "western pseudo-anime" for lack of a better term. find individual anime/manga artists you like, and see how they stylize things. try drawing like they do, and see what feels good. keep what works, and discard what does not. you'll eventually end up with a concoction of things you've stolen from other artists and then warped to your own tastes, which is what is known as "finding your style".

some artists I copy stylistic elements from are Masamune Shirow (Ghost in the Shell), Satoshi Urushihara (Plastic Little), Kamome Shirahama (Witch Hat Atelier), Toshihiro Kawamoto (character designer for Cowboy Bebop and Golden Boy), Ikuko Itoh (character designer for the Sailor Moon anime), and Kentaro Miura (Berserk). I've tried drawing all kinds of shit in their individual styles, I've traced and studied drawings of theirs so I could pick out how they constructed things.

I also do this with people who don't draw anime. Artists like Alphonse Mucha, Bill Watterson, Mœbius, and Alan Moore were as much of an influence on me as any manga artist. if you don't get inspiration from outside the artistic circle you are creating within, you'll never be able to construct a very unique voice for yourself. you may or may not give a shit about that, but I recommend that you do give some shits about it.

remember - you are not drawing anime. you are drawing stylized people/objects that you are warping to look most visually appealing to you. you just happen to think anime looks cool, so you're going to naturally gravitate in that direction. don't try to draw anime. try to draw something that looks cool, or cute, or scary, or badass, or whatever. and show it in a way that makes sense to you. it will probably take a few months of hard practice before you can do this well enough that other people will see what you are trying to show them, but it will eventually happen.

#art #drawing

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

C B X R N

Headcanon Game - A to Z (NSFW)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

((Plug her up Aaron, you know you want to.

It's a thing, she's very willing and happy to keep what you've spilled in her inside. (If that's your thing.) For her it likely has more to do with being 'claimed'.

But, she has no aversion to being cummed ON rather than in. She's gonna chastise you if you get it on her glasses though.

It's not an obsession, she's not partial to any sort of play or the taste of cum. But she's not put off by it either. If you seem to be pleased when she swallows, she'll swallow. If you don't care, she'll just do whatever she feels like.))

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

((Her best qualities are her legs and possibly her eyes. Kira isn't particularly busty. (Average B cup) and she doesn't exactly pack a dump truck. Though her butt is a fairly nice feature as well. She's more graceful and slender, her legs are shapely and usually well shaved and smooth. And most outfits she wears outline this. You'll find her in alot of hosiery and shorts or skirts. Her eyes are also a strange color. Amber, almost golden. It's a very unique color and she gets compliments on them often. And Kira enjoys compliments, so they gotta be a favored feature.

On others? Toned backs and shoulders are a particular favorite. She prefers more broad men. Or dear god if you have defined forearms and roll up your sleeves casually? That's gooooood shit. Smiles are also nice, she will blush at sweet smiles directed at her.))

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

((Hmm, I don't have any pictures or reference art at the ready lol. But I can describe her enough for you.

From feet to waist, Kira has pretty normal feet. Size 8, calloused from walking so much in wasteland verses. But she keeps them clean and as moisturized as she can manage. Her toenails are painted different colors when she can find polish and thinner. Her legs are long and slender, pale from her lack of sun and pretty consistent in color. She has a light pink scar above her knee on her left leg from when she was shot once. Her legs widen into her hips and butt which aren't what one would call generous, but they are plump enough. Shapely and toned from all the running and squats she does, but nothing crazy.

Bush wise, she doesn't shave but trims so to speak. Usually with scissors and as close as she can manage to the skin without nicking. Her hair is thick enough on her head, shaving down there would only prove itchy and uncomfortably pokey when reaching stubble stage. Nor is she diligent enough to shave often enough to avoid the stubble stage. She's got better things to do! Her hair is reddish brown, somewhat coarse. Outer labia covers most inner parts. You have to spread her to find what you're looking for. Nothing beyond that is really all that unusual or extraordinary. She wouldn't really be able to describe it to you besides knowing that it's perfectly normal according to anatomy texts lol. Just a tiny bit higher, I'll include that she has a navel piercing. Was done in a fit of rebellion against her mother back in the day.))

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

((Oh sure, when with partners she trusts, Kira is game for most anything her partner wants to try or likes. (Besides the obvious 'gross stuff' that most people don't care for.) Experimenting can be fun, and you'd be surprised that there's more to Kira's interests than she lets on.

Risk taking? Yeah, she's up for risk. Publicity? She's into the idea of getting caught, and if you're confident enough, you can probably even convince her to be watched. Pregnancy? As we have somewhat discussed, if you push past Kira's fear of being a bad mother, you can fill her up as much as you like. Being bruised or cut? While Kira isn't fond of too much pain during sex, she can take more damage than a normal person before calling it quits. Though... she is INTO spanking and biting and clawing and such. Breath play? She's very into it. Being held down and used is a fantasy that she has that she's partially ashamed of. Doing it by the throat and giving her that high is a bonus to her. Etc etc.))

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

((Besides the obvious of v.ore, s.cat, water s.p.orts, bugs, etc etc? (Those are too extreme even for a people pleaser like her.)

Mmm, Kira is not comfortable with sharing partners. She's fairly monogamous. She's a little too self conscious and has too low of self esteem to be in open relationships. Kira is prone to jealousy. If you cheat on her, she is not above cruelty. She will hurt you in anyway she can if only to avoid her own feelings of devastation.))

#that-kid-from-vault-101 #OOC #Kira stuff #nsft

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Body Part for Aita

Nsft Headcannons | Accepting

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aita's very simple in this regard, on himself he likes his legs because of his tattoos and on his partners it changes. He's more into unique looking individuals (satyrs, werewolves, etc.) than he is anyone human so it varies depending on that. Though he will admit the freakier the anatomy the more likely he is to favor it especially when it comes to more intimate areas.

#ooc #running in moonlight (aita) #/about the muse #lemon

[sciencespies]

Wood-eating clams use their feces to dominate their habitat

https://sciencespies.com/nature/wood-eating-clams-use-their-feces-to-dominate-their-habitat/

Wood-eating clams use their feces to dominate their habitat

Deep beneath the waves, tiny clams with shells usually about as big as a pea bore into pieces of sunken wood. The wood is food for them, as well as a home. These rare, scattered, sunken pieces of wood support miniature ecosystems where different wood-boring clam species can live in harmony for years. But in a new paper in Marine Biodiversity, researchers found that one group of wood-boring clams has evolved a unique way to get the wood all for itself: building chimneys made of poop.

“There are two challenges every sea creature has to face: getting pure water in, so you can get oxygen to your gills, and getting rid of your waste. Because nobody wants to live in their poop. But here are these clams living with theirs, and actually thriving,” says Janet Voight, Associate Curator of invertebrate zoology at the Field Museum and the study’s lead author.

Scientists can put wood on the seafloor, return months or even years later, and recover it with “an amazing array of animals,” says Voight; other times wood that has been submerged for the same amount of time comes up so gnawed and bored-through that you can crumble it in your hand. This difference was a mystery, and Voight wanted to know why.

She took stock of the wood-boring clam species present in reports of sunken wood from all over the world, and she noticed a pattern. “There are six main branches in the wood-boring clam family tree, and every woodfall that was bored so heavily it was crushable by hand turned out to have been bored by a species from the same single branch of that family tree,” says Voight. She says she was surprised by this finding — “that’s not supposed to happen, you just assume that all wood-boring clam species, which tend to look pretty similar, bore into wood the same way. And yet, here’s one group that’s doing something totally different.”

Scientists had suggested that the extra-chewed-up wood was due to lots of larvae happening to be present nearby, or warmer water temperatures, but it turns out, the very nature of the clams may be responsible. Voight noted all of these extra-efficient, related species have a common trait where the sun don’t shine. As the clams dig and move into their boreholes in the wood, they fill the space around them inside the holes with their own feces.

“They don’t do it on purpose, their anatomy makes them do it,” says Voight. “When these clams bore into wood, their little shell does the boring.” Meanwhile, the clams’ siphons, tubular appendages for taking in water to get oxygen and expelling waste, stick out behind them. “In most wood-boring clams, these two “in and out” siphons are equal in length and stick out into the water column,” says Voight. “But in these related hyper-nasty borers, the siphon for expelling de-oxygenated water and feces is short; it stays inside the borehole in the wood. As a result, says Voight, “they poop in their borehole. They just have to, unless they really, really push.” The waste stays right there with the clam, forming a chimney that wraps around the siphon.

That animals would evolve an anatomy that keeps them in such close contact with their own waste, is surprising, says Voight: “It sure isn’t very hygienic, and yet they show no evidence of immune problems. They’re healthy, they’re clearly going to town on the wood. So why did they evolve this way?”

She and her colleagues hypothesized that these fecal chimneys might cue larval settlement: that their free-floating larvae might be able to detect the poop and make their way to it to make a home alongside members of their own species.

But that still leaves the problem: even if a poop chimney serves as a beacon for other members of their species to join them on their wood, how can these individuals survive as more and more larvae settle and the environment becomes filthier and oxygen becomes less available?

“This group of species of clam has been shown in previous studies to be unusually tolerant of low oxygen,” says Voight. They also have additional adaptations, like a mucosal lining of their fecal chimneys, and a substance like hemoglobin in their blood that picks up more oxygen; both may reduce the risk of sulfide poisoning from the waste. Taken together, these adaptations allow these speciesto survive in conditions that would make non-related wood-boring clams sick. The end result is more wood for the chimney-producing species to eat, live in, and for their offspring to settle on, unbothered by competitors.

Beyond just solving the mystery of the gross chewed-up wood with an even grosser solution, Voight says that the study illustrates the importance of looking at ecology with an understanding of how different species are related to each other.

“When you’re confronted with something that seems enigmatic, sometimes you need to step back and look at the big picture, put a lot of different studies together, to see how what had appeared to be enigmatic is a product of evolution,” says Voight. “Having a good family tree can help reveal patterns, and the more we know about the evolutionary histories of these different groups, the more we’ll be able to find out about how they fit together.”

#Nature

#Nature

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

#ysijwa #harry styles smut #vampire!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles mature #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on cinderace?

Oh, Cinderace, where do I begin with you.

Okay, first, the good: I do like the concept a lot. Soccer star that's also a rabbit because they have powerful hind feet and legs. Good! That's a great concept.

However, the design is... well, it could be better. I feel bad for ragging on it because I feel like everyone does, but it really does have some massive issues.

The first problem is the one I talked about with Scorbunny, which is the human-like anatomy. Sure, it has long feet, long ears, and fur, but those elements are tacked on to a humanoid body, much more so than Pokemon usually gets with its anthro characters. Compare to Diggerysby or Mega Lopunny:

Diggerysby is fatter, but it has much shorter proportions, a distinct muzzle area and buck teeth, and more haunch-like legs. Mega Lopunny strays closer to humanoid, but even it has a more elongated face, digitigrade legs, and thinner proportions in the arms and neck that keep it from being quite as humanoid as Cinderace. Note also the eyes on both of these guys, which are also less anime-like than than those on Cinderace.

This might not bother everyone, but for me it almost pushes Cinderace into the uncanny valley a little, like it's a person in a fursuit instead of a wild animal. It also would've helped the design to exaggerate it; in particular, the legs feel like they needed to be a powerful set of haunches with much bigger, longer feet, to emphasize the soccer thing. Right now they're really no more impressive than a human foot, which kind of defeats the concept of it being a rabbit in the first place.

Even putting that aside though, I also feel like the design could be better. First, the navy blue parts feel a bit out of place; I think a lighter orange and a red would've worked better here.

Then there a few things I just don't get, conceptually. What's up with that huge red streak of fur between the ears, or that weird shape between them? What's with the blue upper lines? Even the legs are a little questionable with that random yellow spot on the side; maybe it's meant to resemble the line on soccer shorts, but then why not make it an actual line? It feels like if you stripped off the red and gold by the ears, removed the blue top and maybe the "eyeliner", made the legs white instead of blue, and maybe added a little splotch of orange on the chest for a "number", it would've read clearer as a soccer player. Right now it looks more like a Yugioh protagonist.

As for the g-max, I'm really not fond of how all the starters just get an "item" of theirs made bigger instead of themselves. Feels like it emphasizes how hollow the gimmick is. How does this even work in-universe? Does it just never get off of the ball? Or does it only use the ball sometimes, resulting in it otherwise being a (relatively) tiny g-max without it? I do like the lop ears at least, mostly because the exaggeration is at least a little unique.

#cinderace #pokemon #pokemon reviews #Ask

[i-am-thedragon]

ENA Fanfic - The Taking Tree

During her travels, Ena has rather unfortunately become the host of a parasitic plant, and subject to the unsolicited health concerns of some guy in a frog suit. As her condition worsens, she will eventually learn to appreciate that some people simply care for the sake of caring.

(This fanfic is based on the characters of the yet unreleased 'Dream BBQ', so the characterisations may be way off from canon. Keep this in mind if you are reading this after the game's release!)

7128 words

Content warnings: Descriptions of parasites, body horror, severe illness, and near-death.

The ƎNA, by nature, was an explorative creature. Often covering long distances on foot for leisure, sometimes hopping between several surreal and unique worlds, their universe was theirs to discover. This would hold true also for one particular ƎNA instance, unnamed, and simply referring to herself as ‘Ena’. She too had found herself on several strange journeys, meeting all manner of characters and organisms along the way, some of which would forever be beyond her understanding. In a seemingly inconsequential encounter, Ena had happened upon a gnarled old black tree, barren of any leaves yet sporting rich red flowers and barbed seed pods. One of these seed pods had fallen upon her, its arrowhead shape piercing into her upper chest. With little more than a quick yelp of pain, the red and pale yellow ƎNA removed the offending object from her body, tossing it aside and ignoring the small puncture wound it had left behind.

The seed pod of the Vein Tree, however, was a sneaky thing. In the moment that it had pierced the flesh of the ƎNA, it had injected a seed under her skin, too small for her to have even noticed. Her internal anatomy, though unique, harboured the same substances that sustained most of the living creatures of her world. And so, it would make a suitable substrate for the seed to spread its roots. As the tiny roots emerged, they manoeuvred delicately between the tissues and tendons of Ena’s ribcage, painlessly branching, and spreading themselves deep into her chest. She felt nothing and was none the wiser to what was going on inside her, until it burst forth through the surface.

Perhaps it was a lack of self-awareness, or preoccupation with her surreal environment, or a combination of both factors. By the time Ena noticed the growth on her chest, it had already pierced her skin, presenting as a small, black sprout. She may have been alarmed if not for the fever-dreamish nature of her world, in which such a peculiarity hardly seemed out of the ordinary. Still, she had no idea what exactly it was. Familiarity was an uncommon thing, so when Ena found herself at a familiar broken bridge and found a familiar figure napping peacefully upon it, she was taken by surprise.

“HEY FROG!” She yelled out from a short distance away.

The figure, sporting a black frog suit and a red tie, sluggishly sat up and turned to face her. Light fell upon his pale human face in a dramatic way, making him look rather ominous at a glance, but Ena knew well enough that this frog-suited man was harmless. She ran down to the broken bridge, overlooking a red sea of protruding legs, to greet him.

“Hey Froggy, what are you doing down here again?” Ena asked casually.

“I like to take naps here.” Froggy replied bluntly, getting up onto his feet. “And what about you, then?”

“Me? I just happened to be passing by.” Ena laughed, adjusting her green hat. “I didn’t expect I’d see you again.”

Froggy nodded indifferently, before his glance caught the strange growth protruding from Ena’s chest. He didn’t have a photographic memory, but he was perceptive, and he knew for sure that it hadn’t been there the first time he met her. Ena was only reminded of the growth when she saw Froggy looking at it.

“Oh yeah, uh, this thing just… Appeared a few days ago.” She explained, rubbing the back of her head nervously. “I don’t know what it is. Do you?”

“No idea.” Froggy replied. “It’s not part of your body?”

Ena thought for a moment, then gently squeezed the sprout, but felt nothing. She then tried shifting forms, turning into various different animals, but the growth remained in each one.

“I guess not.” She answered.

“You can shapeshift?” Froggy noted, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Of course!” Ena scoffed. “I’m an ƎNA.”

“Well, you should get that thing checked.” Froggy suggested, stretching his arms up and yawning sleepily. “It might be nothing, but it might be dangerous.”

“Ah, no, I’ve seen dangerous, and this isn’t it.” Ena insisted, slightly offended. “I mean, c’mon, do you really think I can’t handle a little, uh, whatever this is? If it gets any bigger, I’ll just pull it out or cut it off. It doesn’t even hurt!”

“I’m just saying, you should look out for your health.” Froggy muttered, sitting back down, and flopping over onto his back.

Ena folded her arms and rolled her eyes. The nerve of this lazy guy in a frog suit, worrying about her health! Surely, he knew nothing of the ƎNA, and their incredible resilience. She felt fine, great, even! And she had come too far and experienced too much for a little sprout to concern her.

 As the days passed, the peculiar growth increased in size, branching out like a twig, or a little leafless sapling. Ena hardly felt any different; a little thirstier at the very most, but the size of it was becoming an inconvenience. It always lingered there in the corner of her vision, jutting awkwardly from her chest, leaking black fluid from its emergence point and getting in the way. Tired of waiting for it to perish on her own, she decided she would take matters into her own hands. With the fused-together red fingers of her left hand wrapped firmly around the base of the growth, she began to pull. To her surprise, it would not budge. She tightened her grip and pulled harder, but to no avail. Frustrated, she added her clawed right hand to the grip and gritted her teeth, struggling in vain to pull out the growth. It did not tug at her skin as expected but felt as if something was pulling at her insides. Perhaps, she thought, this thing ran deeper than she first thought. Little did she know of the extent that its roots intermingled with her own inner workings.

No matter, Ena thought. She could always just cut it off. If she cut it as close to the skin as possible, it would surely die off, or at least be severely hindered. The stem of the growth was no thicker than her finger, and it stood no chance against the blade that cleanly sliced through it. More dark fluid oozed from the cut stem, pooling until it dripped down her chest. Smugly satisfied with herself, Ena tossed the severed growth aside, happy to never see it again.

However, she did see it again. As suddenly as it first appeared, the growth returned, growing even faster than before, and branching out more. By the time it had grown nearly to the top of her head in height, Ena was beginning to suspect that perhaps it was having an impact on her wellbeing. Not only was the black fluid around the wound concerning, but she found herself lacking the strength and stamina she had possessed not so long ago. She couldn’t walk or run as far without growing tired, nor could she lift, pull, or push the heavy objects she once could. Ena couldn’t be sure that the growth on her chest was to blame, but the timing did seem a little more than coincidental.

 Ena stared up at the swirling clouds in the sky, and a giant, glistening eye stared silently back at her, as if judging her from above, knowing things beyond her comprehension. In spite of it, and the human-like legs protruding from the surrounding waters, Ena felt alone.

“Ena.” A voice spoke from behind her.

Ena jumped, startled by the sudden realisation that she was most definitely not, in fact, alone. She spun around to see a familiar face in a large, black frog suit.

“Oh hey, it’s you again.” Ena sighed with relief. “I suppose that’s what I get for coming back here so often.”

“That… thing has grown.” Froggy pointed out. “And it’s been there for a long time now. Are you okay?”

“Well, if I have to be honest, I think you might’ve been onto something.” Ena admitted. “I’m starting to think I should at least try to find out what this thing is. The problem is, I don’t know who to go to, so I’ll just need to keep looking around until I find someone who knows something.”

Froggy wasn’t sure if his memory was inconsistent, or if Ena’s appearance had changed subtly since the last time he had seen her. Aside from the noticeable growth protruding from her chest, she seemed thinner, her colours less vibrant, and her eyes slightly dulled. But Froggy remembered also what he had learned in that last encounter, that ƎNAs are shapeshifters, so for all he knew the change in appearance was normal. Regardless, he felt uncomfortable with the thought of Ena travelling far and wide again with her potential ailment.

“I know someone who might know what it is; I can take you to them if you’d like.” Froggy offered.

 “Oh, that’d be great, actually!” Ena accepted enthusiastically. “I mean, knowing is half the battle isn’t it?”

“It is.” Froggy replied, turning around, and gesturing for Ena to follow him “There’s a botanist out past the mountains. The trip shouldn’t take long if we go by train.”

 Ena and Froggy made their way to the nearest train station, waiting only moments for a lonely old train to arrive and pick them up. The inside of the train was occupied only by a few twisted figures and spectres, waiting to stop at unknown destinations.

“Hey, uhm, thanks for offering to help be out.” Ena said as she took her seat on the train.

“It’s no problem.” Froggy replied nonchalantly, seating himself opposite her.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Ena began. “We barely know each other.”

“That’s true. But I don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The rest of the trip was very quiet, with only infrequent small talk to break the silence. As it would turn out, Froggy wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Regardless, his company was surely a pleasant change from travelling alone, as Ena typically would. Outside the train, surreal landscapes passed by. Moonlit plains, intricately decorated ruins, and swirling green fog were visible through the train’s windows, providing relief from the visual monotony within. Every so often the growth from Ena’s chest would catch her vision, reminding her why she was there. If she could just learn what it was, and how to deal with it, she could move on with her life.

 As the train came to a stop, Froggy, who had nearly been dozing off, stood up suddenly.

“This is our stop.” He announced.

Ena stood up eagerly and followed him out without a word. He took the lead once again, guiding Ena only another short walk away to a peaceful garden beneath a large, greenhouse-like structure. Froggy approached the front door of the structure and knocked on it. Moments later, a white, hairless quadruped emerged, with long, horse-like legs ending in dainty points, and a long neck with only a large eyeball for a head. The strange character’s eye darted around briefly, before locking onto Froggy.

“Oh, good day sir!” Their seemingly disembodied voice spoke. “I suppose you are in need of additional aquatic plants for your pond, no?”

“Not today.” Froggy replied. “I met this ƎNA recently, and she has, uh, a growth of some sort. I was hoping you might be able to tell us what it is.”

Froggy stepped aside and let the botanist step towards Ena. They craned their neck forward, their eye staring piercingly at the branching protrusion growing from her chest. Ena averted her gaze nervously, rubbing at the back of her head.

“Ah, this is an interesting case.” The botanist spoke, pulling their neck back and blinking with surprise. You were right to come to me; this is indeed a plant.”

“If it’s a plant, then where are its leaves?” Ena asked. “And why is it growing out of me, and not the ground?”

“If my knowledge serves me correctly, this is a Vein Tree.” The botanist explained. “It doesn’t grow like any other tree. It imbeds itself into living creatures, such as yourself, and feeds off the fluids and nutrients in their body. That’s why it doesn’t need leaves. I’ve wanted to possess such a tree for a long time, but its rarity and unconventional means of propagation has made it difficult.”

“So, you’re telling me it’s a parasite?!” Ena exclaimed. “Well, how can I get it out of my body?”

“Essentially, yes.” The botanist replied. “You must have somehow had a Vein Tree seed implanted into you at some point. Its roots are embedded deep within you by now and attempting to cut it will only make it grow back faster, leeching even more nutrients from you. You’ll need to speak to a special medic who resides far from here, as only he can provide you with the means of properly dealing with such an ailment.”

“How far away exactly?” Ena asked, cringing at the thought of her previous attempts to remove the parasite.

“Head in that direction, and you will pass two villages, a lake, and a casino.” The botanist answered, lifting up their front right leg and pointing it out towards the horizon. “There you will find a temple. You will know it when you see it. The medic will reside within it. The journey will take two weeks if you use the available public transport as efficiently as possible.”

“Two weeks?” Ena scoffed. “Ah, forget it. Thank you for your help, though. At least now I know what this thing is.”

“Now wait a minute.” Froggy interrupted, raising a large, black-gloved hand. “If they’re suggesting you see a medic, and such a specific one at that, then this must be serious. You really should go, Ena.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m really not up for such a long journey at the moment.” Ena insisted. “I think I can deal with this on my own.”

“My frog-suited friend is correct.” The botanist spoke. “It would certainly be in your best interest not to take the parasites of this realm lightly if you want to preserve your wellbeing.”

“And you don’t have to do it alone.” Froggy added. “I will come with you.”

“Alright, I’ll go see this medic.” Ena relented with a heavy sigh. “But I know I’ll be fine regardless. At least this trip might be fun.”

“Good choice.” The botanist said, retreating back into their greenhouse. “In the meantime, try to keep your strength up. Stay hydrated and well-fed as best you can.”

As the door closed, leaving the two travellers alone, Ena turned to Froggy with clear apprehension.

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” She asked. “You really don’t have to; this isn’t exactly your problem. It’s going to be a long trip, too.”

“You’re not well.” Froggy insisted. “I want to be there in case something happens.”

 As much as it was in Ena’s nature to travel, the thought of a trip that would take two weeks at best was rather daunting, especially now knowing that she had a parasitic plant growing from her chest, sucking the life from her. She wasn’t afraid, per se, but the thought of it made her skin crawl with uneasiness. She also felt somewhat guilty for inadvertently dragging Froggy into the mess, though his constant concern for her wellbeing felt as though he was babying her. She felt more than capable of taking the trip alone, even in spite of her admittedly less than optimal condition.

Eventually, their train came to its final stop outside a small town, forcing all the passengers aboard to disembark and be on their merry ways. Froggy and Ena were among them, silently lamenting the fact that they were barely one day into their long journey.

“Guess we’ll have to take the other train if we want to keep going this way.” Ena sighed, kicking at the dirt beneath her as she checked the train schedule. “Bugger! It’s not coming for another hour and a half!”

“Good, that will give us time to stop for food and drinks.” Froggy remarked, unfazed by the delay. “Do ƎNAs eat carapulcra?”

“Pardon?”

“Carapulcra. You can eat it, no?”

“Uh, I guess? Why?”

“That vendor over there.” Froggy said, pointing at a food vendor serving carapulcra in the near distance. “We can get some food and drinks there while we wait.”

Before Ena had time to protest, Froggy was already at the vendor, purchasing two servings of the meat stew dish. Though he’d once given the impression of being lazy or sluggish, he clearly wasn’t messing around now. When he returned with the food, the two of them ate together in silence at the train station. As Ena pushed around pieces of meat with her fork, she imagined the roots of the vein tree curling around her insides, tickling at her stomach, waiting to take their share of her meal. The thought of it made her stomach turn in discomfort, nearly putting her off her carapulcra.

“Are you okay?” Froggy asked quietly, noticing Ena’s discomfort. “We’ve been gone for a while now. I thought you’d be hungry by now.”

“I mean, I guess?” Ena replied sheepishly. “I’m just thinking too much. You can have the rest of my carapulcra if you want.”

“No no, you need it more than I do.” Froggy insisted. “Remember what the botanist said?”

“Right, right…”

 Froggy inwardly cursed knowing next to nothing about ƎNAs. Maybe if he knew more about the strange, shape-shifting species, he would be better at helping her with her current ailment. Froggy hadn’t known Ena for very long, but he liked her. Her energetic and outgoing personality was quite endearing, even though it contrasted his more laid-back nature. Though he rarely had much to offer to conversations, he enjoyed listening to the stories Ena would tell as they waited together in various forms of public transportation. Ena herself simply appreciated having consistent company for once, as most of her previous interactions had been fleeting encounters at best.

Though he tried to remain stoic, it devastated Froggy to see Ena’s playful nature wither away each day. In the beginning of their journey, he would often doze off on buses and trains, being eagerly shaken awake by Ena at their next stop, where she would explore the surroundings with her usual fascination until the next ride arrived. But as the days passed, she would grow quieter, stiller, and more distant. Froggy dreaded the parts of the trip that would have to be taken on foot, as he knew Ena would struggle to take them without frequent breaks. She looked perpetually exhausted, no matter how much she rested.

As Ena’s condition deteriorated, Froggy couldn’t shake the nagging voice of self-doubt that questioned if he was doing enough. He tried his best to make sure she was eating, drinking, and resting, but it didn’t seem to be enough. Ena continued to grow paler and thinner, with dark bags forming under her eyes and her black hair losing its lustre. Ena didn’t want to admit it, but this parasite was proving to be a more formidable foe than she had originally expected. Froggy had never doubted that the parasite was a threat, but now he couldn’t help but feel that he was failing her.

The journey took two long weeks, plus four additional days. They’d tried their best to make the trip as quick as possible, and given the circumstances they’d done rather well, but nonetheless it had been a test of endurance. On their last bus trip, Ena rested herself wearily against Froggy. His thick frog suit was much more comfortable than leaning against the window, and he didn’t mind the contact. Froggy glanced at Ena sympathetically, cursing the hideous growth that had only grown larger each day, before gazing out the window. He could see the temple in the distance. There they would find the medic, and Ena would be okay again. That was the whole point of the trip. It would all be worth it.

The walk from the bus stop to the temple was a silent one, drenched in a mixture of both tension and relief. Ena and Froggy were finally approaching their destination, though neither had any idea what to expect. Who was this ‘medic’ anyway? Could they really help Ena deal with her parasite? What exactly would that entail, anyway? The tall, staggered, pyramid-shaped structure ahead bore many intricate decorative carvings and was surrounded by elaborate statues of twisted humanoid figures. And yet, its entrance was a mere unassuming opening at its base, leading into a cracked, moss-covered stone room lit by sunbeams leaking through its cracked ceiling.

In the centre of the room was a hideous, tangled mass of muscle and tendons, its fleshy tendrils reaching out and tethering itself to the walls and ceiling of the temple. The only indication that this grotesque organism was a sentient character was the blank, human-faced mask attached to the front of its mass. The mask, plain white for a moment, lit up in vibrant hues at different directions upon Froggy and Ena’s approach.

“I suppose you have been sent here for a particular purpose.” The creature spoke. “Very few happen upon me by accident.”

“We were told there’s a medic here.” Froggy explained. “Would that be you?”

“Indeed.” The medic replied, their tendrils pulsating as they looked upon Froggy with scrutiny. “I know the cures for many ailments, but I cannot cure one’s foolish decision to dress like an amphibian.”

Froggy furrowed his brow and crossed his arms at the medic’s insulting words. Ena stood silently, her gaze distant, as if lost in another world. Noticing this, Froggy spoke on her behalf.

“My friend here has become the unfortunate host of a parasitic vein tree.” He explained, gesturing at the sickly ƎNA. “It’s getting quite bad. We were told that you know what to do about it.”

“Ohh, what a fascinating thing the vein tree is!” The medic swooned, leaning their face in close towards Ena. “It is true, creatures have travelled far and wide for me to present it to me. But the most beautiful part is when the host inevitably passes away, the life sucked right out of their decrepit little body, the vein tree continues to feed off the corpse, anchoring down into the earth below and presenting a beautiful bloom of rich red flowers to continue its life cycle.”

Ena snapped out of her daze and stumbled back slightly, regaining awareness of the situation. In that moment she had been forced to confront her own mortality, like a hard slap in the face. She had been well aware of her deteriorating condition, but not until now had she considered that this parasite would spell the end of her life. No, she had already been through so much, yet she still had so much more life left to live, if not for that wretched plant.

“I-I’m going to die?” Ena stuttered, eyes wide and glistening with tears.

“But you have to know a way to kill or remove the parasite!” Froggy quickly exclaimed to the medic, trying to dispel the growing fear.

“Well, yes, I do.” The medic replied, turning to lean in close to him. “But why would you want me to do that? The vein tree is a beautiful and rare thing after all, and she is just one of many ƎNAs.”

With white-hot rage in his eyes, never before seen by Ena, Froggy threw his arms forward and gripped tightly at the sides of the medic’s mask face with his large hands. The mask contorted into an expression of surprise as froggy stared deep into the medic’s eye holes, with a look that told them he had come too far and cared too much to accept such a foul suggestion.

“Tell us how to get rid of the parasite.” He demanded.

“Alright, I can rid your ƎNA of the vein tree.” The medic relented, squirming free of Froggy’s grasp, and shrinking backwards away from him nervously. “But the process is neither pretty, easy, nor guaranteed successful. My preferred method is extracting it by hand.”

A pair of long, thin arms began to emerge from the medic’s meaty form, ending in hands with long, needle-pointed fingers that wriggled methodically and gracefully.

“I can slice the host open and pluck the roots of the tree out from their insides.” The medic explained. “But it is a very time-consuming delicate process, and a single error could spell disaster. And I must warn, I am not experienced with the inner anatomy of the ƎNA.”

Ena recoiled with horror at the thought of being dissected by that freakish thing and having her insides poked at, no matter the chances of success.

“Do you have any other options?” She asked nervously.

“A less invasive option would be to poison the plant, like one would poison unwanted weeds in a garden.” The medic answered. “However, that would entail poisoning the host, that is, you, as well. Simply put, it would be a matter of taking the poison, and hoping that you outlast the parasite. I cannot say for certain what your chances of success are, especially seeing how the tree has already weakened you noticeably, but your death is guaranteed if you do not attempt to stop it.”

Ena and Froggy exchanged apprehensive glances. Curling her hands into fists, Ena took a deep breath and nodded acceptingly.

“Alright, I suppose I have no choice then.” She sighed. “I’ll take the poison.”

The medic manifested a vial between their hands and gripped it tightly, before spewing a stream of unnatural-looking cyan liquid into it from the mouth of their mask. The vial was then sealed with a cork and handed to Ena.

“Take a small sip of this once a night before you rest.” They spoke. “It will not be pleasant, but it will destroy the roots of the vein tree.”

Before anyone could ask any more questions, the medic’s arms retracted back into their body, and their mask turned white once again as they fell into dormancy.

“I’m sorry I got aggressive back in there.” Froggy apologised, making the slow trudge back to the bus station. “It really upset me the way the medic suggested the vein tree was worth keeping more than you; especially after how far we’ve come.”

As Froggy kept his focus ahead, he failed to notice Ena falling behind in his peripheral vision.

“To tell you the truth, I was worried that this journey might be for nothing.” Froggy continued. “That we would come all this way, only to be told there was nothing that could be done.”

Froggy came to a sudden halt when he realised he could no longer hear a second set of footsteps beside him. He turned to find Ena standing a short distance back, staring lamentingly at the vial of poison in her hands. Knowing something was wrong, he quickly ran back to her to make sure she was okay.

“Do you need to rest?” He asked. “I know the journey back is going to be another long one; I don’t want you to push yourself.”

“No, I’m fine.” Ena sighed. “Just… Go home.”

“…But what about you?” Froggy asked, taken aback. “You’ll be coming back too, won’t you?”

“What about me?!” Ena snapped. “I don’t need to go ‘back’ anywhere! I am perfectly capable of staying here on my own! I don’t need you hovering over me playing caretaker while I slowly poison myself to death!”

“Ena…” Froggy uttered softly, taken aback.

“Yeah I’m an ƎNA, so what?!” Ena continued, raising her voice as her eyes began to glisten with tears. “You don’t know anything about us! I may not be important but I’m not weak either! I can handle myself without you treating me like some kind of lost, dependent child! Why do you even care, anyway? You’re not the one with a damn parasite growing out of you!”

“Ena, this isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me, you never will!” Ena yelled, beginning to tremble as dark fluid trickled from her chest wound with her increasing heart rate. “You’re just some guy in a frog suit who sleeps on a derelict bridge and gets into other people’s business for no reason! Just go! Go home! Forget about me! Just leave me alone!”

Froggy understood to some extent that this semi-coherent outburst was the result of amalgamating stress and anxiety, tipped over by the grim prognosis Ena had just received. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little wounded by her words. Not being called ‘just some guy in a frog suit’, but her insistence that his presence was unwanted and even insulting to her. Even if Ena was clearly not in the right frame of mind at that moment, it seemed that for a while now she had no longer wanted him around, and so, Froggy had to respect that. All he could do was nod sombrely in acceptance, then turn back around and head home without her.

 By the time night fell upon the land once again, Ena was already beginning to regret her earlier words. When she said she would fare fine without Froggy she meant it, but she knew she had been unnecessarily hostile to him, when he really hadn’t done anything to deserve it. But it was too late to go back now, and she would very likely never see him again. What was done was done, and now Ena had to focus on killing off the monster living in her body. Feeling the sleepiness of the end of the day on top of her existing physical weariness, Ena prepared to take the first sip of her medically prescribed poison. Popping the cork from the vial, she steeled herself, closing her eyes and taking in only a small mouthful of the bright liquid.

Not to her surprise, it tasted bitter and awful. It was toxic, after all, not meant to be ingested. It burned as she swallowed it, her body protesting the unwanted substance, and almost immediately made her feel queasy. It brought Ena comfort, however, to know that the parasite was being poisoned by it too. If she was going down, she was taking the damned thing with her, like a long, drawn-out chemical kamikaze. Falling backwards onto the dingy bed of her 90’s Web themed motel room, Ena stared out into the moonlight through the room’s dusty window and let a restless sleep take her.

Ena was awoken harshly by a wave of nausea, tearing her from the respite of sleep and finding her lying prickled with cold, yet drenched in sweat. The massive branching monstrosity that protruded from Ena’s chest loomed ominously over her as usual, always taking up part of her vision, and she couldn’t help but hope that it too was feeling as awful from the first dose of poison as she was. The room felt incredibly unfamiliar in the morning light, reminding her how far away she was from her usual territory. As much as Ena typically felt comfortable exploring unfamiliar grounds, and as much as homesickness was a feeling never experienced by her, something about the place just felt wrong. Her best guess as to why she felt this way was the temple looming off in the distance, the sight of which only brought back unpleasant memories and reminded her of the grim predicament she was in. Part of Ena was desperate to leave her ugly Web 1.0 motel room, but another part of her just wanted to stay lying in bed.

Ena was certain this little town hadn’t been so cold when she had first arrived. She wasn’t sure if there had been a sudden change in seasons or if it was the toxins coursing through her body once again confusing her senses. The latter seemed to be the more likely scenario. So bothersome was the constant chill that Ena had bought a blanket from a local salesperson simply to keep wrapped around her frail, shivering body. Paradoxically, however, Ena also found herself sweating feverishly. Perhaps the cold sweats were simply her body’s attempt at purging the poison from her system. Even she had noticed that her typical scent had been replaced with an unpleasant chemical odour. Unsurprisingly, the stomach-turning nausea the poison caused made it difficult to eat, and even harder to keep food down. Feeding both herself and the parasite was simply not going to happen, and although Ena took smug satisfaction in depriving the vein tree of nutrients, she was well aware that she too would suffer.

The race to outlast the parasite felt more like an unbearable waiting game, with each painful day dragging by slower than the last, ending with another sip of poison and the brief escape of sleep. At her most active, Ena would amble aimlessly around the town, trying to find a distraction or something of interest. She’d lost all interest in trying to make any sort of conversation with the people around her, who would shy away from her in dismay. Whenever Ena caught a glimpse of her gaunt reflection, she understood why. Her colours had faded, her once vibrant red left side having become a sickly desaturated pink and her cream-coloured right side being pallid white. Her eyes were dull and ringed with dark bags, and her hair was patchy and dishevelled. And of course, the hideous barren tree growing from her chest was impossible to ignore. She was quite the mess, not the energetic and adventurous ƎNA she had once been.

Every now and then Ena inevitably thought about what would’ve been if she’d stuck around with Froggy. She would almost certainly still be in the same miserable predicament, but at least she might be a little less lonely. There was really no use lingering on ‘what if’s anymore, however. Though she’d lost count of the days, Ena was sure Froggy would be back home by now. It was hard to say whether the time that had passed had gone by slowly or quickly, as a mind ravaged by poison and malnutrition was far from the best at time perception.

“Damn it, this all just sucks.” Ena thought to herself, her legs bucking beneath her as she collapsed, like she had several times before. “This really, really, sucks.”

Just outside of the walls of civilization and still huddled in her blanket, Ena remained on her knees for a while. Though her vision was spinning, had her sights set on an old, abandoned shed in the distance. Its roof and concrete floor would give the vein tree no chance of growing into a mature plant. Ena couldn’t tell anymore whether or not the wretched thing was dying or not, but she was going to make sure it would not live on without her. If she could win, she would make it a draw, and they would both perish together. The thought of it pushed her to rise shakily back to her feet and finish the lonely trudge to the shed.

It took most of Ena’s remaining strength and energy to pull open the rusted shed door, and the remainder of it to close the door behind her, leaving her once again down on her hands and knees. Exhausted and in pain, she crawled into the derelict structure, the brittle branches of her parasite cracking along the way, before finally coming to a rest on its dusty concrete floor. There she lay on her side, wrapped in that same old dirty blanket she’d been carrying around for so long now. Truly, she felt pathetic. It was shameful enough that a handful of strangers had already seen her in such a pitiful state, but if anyone she knew were to see her now, well, she might simply die of humiliation on the spot. Under the pale moonlight shining in through the dirty shed window, Ena took one last look at the now empty vial in her grasp before letting it roll out of her hand and across the dirty concrete floor. She had downed the last few drops of its poison the previous night and felt a small amount of relief in knowing she no longer had to force the vile substance into her body. With a sigh, she pulled the blanket tightly around herself and curled up, quietly slipping into sleep.

 A loud creaking and scraping sound tore Ena from her sleep quickly enough to see the light pouring in through the shed’s open door. She squinted as she raised her head slightly, completely puzzled as to who or what would be trying to access the abandoned shed, and for what reason. When she began to recognise the shape of the silhouette at the door, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“…Frog?” She muttered raspingly, unsure if she was dreaming or hallucinating the encounter.

Froggy, who was very much there and very much real, gazed upon Ena with wide, teary eyes. His relief at having found her alive was very much overwhelming, but so was the heartbreak of seeing her in such an awful condition. If not for her distinct red suspenders and green cap, he might not have even recognised her. His arms trembled as he reached them out in a sympathetic gesture, taking slow, shaky steps towards her.

“Ena…” Was all he could bear to say, his voice no more than a whisper.

Froggy fell to his knees beside Ena and gently scooped her up in his arms, hugging her as firmly as he could without hurting her frail body. Ena, though she had once been cold and distant, embraced the gesture and the warmth and comfort it brought her.

“Froggy, I thought you went home.” Ena remarked softly.

“I tried.” Froggy replied, beginning to sob as he continued to hold her. “But I got so worried; I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through all this alone. I had to come back and find you. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you wanted. But I’m so, so sorry you had to suffer on your own.”

“Hey, come on, it’s okay.” Ena reassured, a weak smile forming upon her face. “I’m actually glad you’re here now, you know.”

“What are you doing here all alone in this miserable shed?” Froggy asked, sniffling as he tried to regain his composure. “I won’t let you lie here. You deserve to rest somewhere much nicer.”

Froggy rose to his feet, still cradling Ena in his arms, and carried her out of the shed. Ena felt a little embarrassed being carried, but she knew it was okay. She had fought all she could, and it was well and truly time to accept the help. In fact, Ena began to wonder why she’d ever been so stubborn in the first place, insisting on fighting alone. Perhaps it was that she found it so unusual for someone to care about her, especially with such little reason. After all, she had barely known Froggy beyond a brief encounter before becoming the host to the parasitic vein tree, which in spite of the misery it had caused, had brought them so much closer together.

In what seemed like such a short amount of time, Ena had been carried much further than she had been able to walk on her own since she had started her treatment. It was just another reminder of how much she had deteriorated. However, the painful reminder was quickly overwhelmed by the serene environment she now found herself in. The sun was now just beginning to emerge over the horizon, illuminating the surrounding foliage in golden light. Ena strained to lift her head and squinted her eyes, observing the beautiful setting.

“What’s this, some sort of garden?” Ena asked, cracking a small smile once again. “It’s really pretty.”

“I thought you might like it.” Froggy responded, sitting down on the soft grass with Ena still wrapped up in his arms. “It would have to be better than lying in that miserable old shed, at least.”

“Yeah, it definitely is. Thanks, Frog.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Froggy sighed. “It’s hard to see you suffering like this.”

“Well, on the bright side, I managed to finish all of that poison stuff without dying.” Ena said, bragging playfully in spite of her condition. “It's just too bad this parasite it still here too.”

Froggy gently held a branch of the vein tree in his large hand. The brittle ends of its branches cracked and crumbled at his touch. When he touched the base of the tree, it wobbled loosely in Ena’s chest wound.

“Close your eyes, relax, and exhale.” Froggy calmly insisted.

“What? Why?”

“Just trust me.”

Ena did as Froggy said and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing her body as she exhaled. Her eyes shot back open with a sharp gasp as she felt the roots of the parasite, which had been nestled in her body for so long, sliding out from between her bones and tendons. She shuddered as she gazed wide-eyed upon the dead vein tree in Froggy’s firm grasp, its dead roots hanging limply below it. Now, there was only a small hole in Ena’s chest, crusted with a build-up of dark fluid. When she realised what had happened, she sighed with relief. It was over.

“I guess this means we won.” She said with a smile.

“The worst is over.” Froggy said, tossing the dead parasite aside to eventually dissolve into the soil, and be fed upon by the rest of the garden. “Now you can focus on getting better. I brought something that I hope might help.”

Ena hadn’t even noticed until now that Froggy had been wearing a backpack along with his usual unusual attire. He reached into it, pulling out a strange yet familiar fruit. It was translucent, glistening an array of colours in the morning light, and held the vague shape of a triangular prism.

“No way…” Ena said with a light chuckle. “Is that… A prism fruit?”

“You said I know nothing about your species.” Froggy replied with a smirk, handing Ena the fruit. “So, I did some learning, and found out that the prism fruit is a favourite for ƎNAs. I made sure to get one before coming back to look for you.”

Ena hadn’t laughed in so long, but in that moment, she laughed with genuine joy, tears forming in her eyes. The taste of the prism fruit was sweet, but the gesture of kindness and understanding was sweeter.

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