#for blue

[theartofbeingafool]

Isono Redesign. I’m going to be going by student numbers so Harada is next.

Me rambling below v

I honestly feel like Isono would probably wear a lot of layers and not have as showy of an outfit that she does in her og design. Assuming that she was at home when she was taken, I decided to just give her a hoodie and some sweats, and of course her headset! I thought the idea of a halo would look too odd so, I put some tiny little wings on it instead! Face mask is just because I feel like she’d wear a mask or at least have one on her person when she isn’t streaming. I’m going to try to keep similar color palettes for each student, but some I’m going to try to give more ordinary clothes (like Harada or Tamba). This design is for my own tetro rewrite! I’m going to be sprinkling two of my own characters in of course but their designs are going to be posted together!!

[ransomdemands]

The heat is oppressive. My shirt sticks to my skin from the sweat and my vision is starting to blur. I can feel it all the way through me, a steadily growing inferno, consuming my thoughts. The temperature outside can’t account for this heat, unseasonably warm though it may be it’s still February. And I’m burning.

I catch a familiar scent on the breeze and throb low in my abdomen. A sweet musky scent, like jasmine flowers wilting in the sun. I find myself turning down streets I shouldn’t know, my body moving on instinct alone. The closer I get the more overwhelming the smell is, thick and rich in the honeyed air. My cock grows stiffer with every inhale, the aroma clouding my every sense until I see you.

And everything becomes clear.

The heat subsuming me settles into a bringing need, my cock standing proud and ready telling me what I need, twitching slightly as I breath in the scent of you, of the arousal still evident between your legs as you sleep softly in your bed. My head is foggy with your scent and I feel like I’m walking in a dream. Down your street, across your yard, up the drainpipe to your window. Every step closer to you eating away at a little more of my judgment, my restraint.

As I climb through your window I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass. Barely human anymore. There’s no suppressing my true form like this. I’ve been denying myself for too long and now my body is taking it’s due. My skin is an oil slick, deep black and reflective, and I can feel my teeth, bladed and long. My claws dig into your window lane leaving gauges as I pull myself through, hunching to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling. My tail whips nimbly behind me, pulling the window closed.

Inside the room your scent is all consuming. I can barely breath for it, my cock drips steadily, leaving spots of precum across your sheets as I climb over you. Nudging your legs apart I push the spade shaped tip of my tail into your hole, still soft and slick from masturbating. Your body accepts me readily and I can’t help but fuck you like this a little bit. My teeth ache for your flesh but I try to hold back. You’re such a tiny little thing, my claws could break you, I need to be careful. But the way you clench around me as I drag a fang down the skin of your throat is too much. I force your legs apart and back, spreading you open before me. I pull my tail from your body and line up my cock. It’s big, so big compared to you but I know you can take it, you need to take it.

I push into you in on rough thrust, relishing your tight aching hole. The painful stretch of me wakes you and you squirm beneath me. How terrifying it must be for you, pinned down beneath a gigantic beast, it’s yellow eyes and dripping fangs staring down at you, your tender hole stretched and stuffed to the limit with its thick ridged cock. I growl deep in my chest as I start to fuck you. Mindful of the bright red lines crisscrossing your thighs from the brush of my claws. I wrap my tail around your wrists, holding them down as I thrust slowly. Savoring your tight hole and your soft tender body. The feeling of you on my cock and the smell of your desperate arousal are all I am aware of now. I can dimly see that you are moving your mouth, maybe saying something? And you’re squirming beneath me but I’m so much stronger than you it’s near inconsequential and the heavy weight of my cock deep in your body keeps you from getting far.

I lean down and nip your ear, like I always do. Holding the shell of it between my teeth as I start to fuck you rougher and harder. Your cunt tightens around me suddenly and I growl loud and deep into your ear. I can hear you say my name, cunt slicking further and clenching around my cock.

Im suddenly afraid. The dim part of my brain not consumed by my need to breed you gripped by anxiety at the thought of you knowing what I really am. But a desperate lusty moan rips it’s way out of your mouth and the thought is lost in the wake of your pleasure. I lick up and down your neck, my long tongue wrapping its way around your throat and gripping lightly as the forked end flicks lightly at your collar bone. Your cervix is soft and pliant for my cock and I thrust into it hard. My body aching to release inside you. I grip your throat between my teeth, holding on as I simply let my body fuck you, rutting at the hard desperate pace I need, my claws sinking into you, pinpricks of blood dripping down your pristine thighs.

My hips stutter slightly forcing deep inside you as i cum. Throbbing as I release into your womb, your belly filling with the heat of it. The ridges of my cock flare out as i fill you, locking me and my cum inside you as wave after wave of cum fills your body.

My eyes are heavy with the satiety of pleasure and I collapse downward, heavy body pressing into you. The haze of arousal replaced with a haze of exhaustion as I start to fall asleep. I sink my teeth into your neck as I do, a claiming bite, for my new favorite breeder.

[skeptisystem]

something we don't talk about enough is littles/middles who are persecuters. all persecuters need a little extra love due to the nature of their role, but those young persecuters deserve so much better than they got and should be smothered with as much love as they'll allow. if you're a child persecuter, know you're so important and it's okay to ask for help. and you aren't bad, you're just doing all you've ever known.

[beardedmrbean]

[gentlergunler]

Bluety-Blue 💙🤍

[storminmywake]

@bokketo​​

The Doctor gasped, started back into consciousness as though waking from a terrible dream. For a moment he was completely disorientated, clueless as to where and when he was. All he could focus on was how everything seemed to be racing: his pulse, his thoughts-- even his lungs couldn’t seem to pull in air quick enough.

He sat with elbows resting on bent knees, hands resting on the back of his head as he stared at a spot just between his feet and made himself take deep measured breaths to regain control. And as he calmed down, the confusion melted away into awareness:

The very first thing he realised mere seconds after coming to was that he wasn’t in the middle of a skirmish: he was in the TARDIS. He recognised her familiar hum first, then became aware of the time rotor bathing everything in near proximity with blue light, with the softer candle light bringing warmth to its coldness. He saw his wing-back armchair and the bookcases that all around the console room. A weight lifted and his muscles relaxed: he was safe. [He was home.]

The second thing he noticed was that his clothes felt Wrong (a bit short? if not too small altogether). Had he regenerated again?

It all came rushing back then; his head snapped up and he inhaled sharply, as though he were in pain.

[Tears stung his eyes.]

The War had been going poorly, and the High Council had resurrected Rasillon in an act of desperation in response. Romana, in one of her last acts as Lord President, had secretly entrusted to him a terrible weapon that the Council had banned since its use would lead to their destruction as well as that of the Daleks. She charged him to End It All, should all hope seem lost for the rest of Creation. But even after Rasillon had (re)assumed power, the War fared no better. When Arcadia fell, things seemed truly lost. Daleks began to overrun Gallifrey. The Doctor by chance learned of Rasillon’s (mad) solution, and knew he had no choice if the Universe was to continue.

Still, the choice to actually do it had not been easy: he had agonized over whether there was another way, or a way to control the effect of the Moment so as to spare some. But every avenue of thought led him to the same conclusion: if the Universe was to continue, then it needed to do so without the Daleks and without the Time Lords. It could not survive otherwise so long as one or both existed.

(Part of him begrudged the fact that he would have to pay for the sins of his people: that he too would have to die and so be robbed of roaming and exploring the Universe that would continue on in his absence. But the other part welcomed death. He has been fighting a war that he didn’t really want a part in to begin with for far too long, been swallowed up by horrors even the Time Lords feared, and he has lost so much: to know peace at last would be bliss).

And so, he’d done it. He used The Moment.

Revulsion mixed with pain as he remembered the feeling the terror and confusion of billions upon trillions of consciousness as they were consumed before they all eventually fell silent. Deathly silent.

[Tears were now streaming down his face as he silently wept.]

Genocide. Multiple counts of genocide.

He doubled over and retched at the thought, but as his stomach had nothing to give it, he was left dry heaving.

[aglionbyacademia]

all richard gansey iii does is yearn