This is honestly likely to turn into my personal blog / writing blog if anyone comes back. If anyone I used to write with sees this we should catch up o/
dokuganryuu reblogged
*taps glass* is anyone alive? Lmao everyone's blogs went inactive 2-6 years ago
I wanna bring back the party animal lol
*taps glass* is anyone alive? Lmao everyone's blogs went inactive 2-6 years ago
what's good, short stuff?
“What’s good?” The One-Eyed Dragon repeats with a raised brow and a quirked grin. “What’s good? Well -- me, for one thing. I’m absolutely great.” The grin burgeons into something fuller, something more genuine and visibly affectionate. “And you’re good. So we’re both good, that’s two good things right there. Can’t say as much for half the sorry lot outside o’ Ōshū, however. In fact, I can’t speak on behalf of anyone else.” Masamune chuckles and settles into a cross-legged seat. “Long time no see, Samus.”
dokuganryuu reblogged
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙸𝙳 𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 . 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝙻𝙰𝚇𝚈 𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝚃 𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙴 . sel + low activity samus aran of nintendo’s metroid series . crafted by rené .
dokuganryuu reblogged
dokuganryuu reblogged
Hi how are y'all?
I have an idea for how I’m going to come back both here and on @oathclad, so if you’re interested in plotting with me, please IM me!
Otherwise, it’s nice to see y’all are still alive. :)
dokuganryuu reblogged
So apparently this bitch had his birthday this week, so have some late Majimas
Hey guys. So it's not really any secret that I'm hardly on Tumblr anymore, but it stands being said. If you want to keep up with me, you're more than welcome to follow me @kellyshaddocks on twitter. If you IM me here on tumblr I can almost guarantee that I won't see it, so that's your best bet if you wanna keep in touch. See ya 'round, dudes!
dokuganryuu reblogged
grumpy child
What is up my dudes?
dokuganryuu reblogged
Her smile is rose-petal soft, exquisite blooms of pure red coming into full beauty across her empyrean features, her eyes radiant and glowing and crescent-shaped as deigned by the grandeur of her moonlit grin; she emanates a great joy, looks at him as if he is the first glimpse of sun she has seen after a thousand years of grey-coloured despondency, so dazzling, her wide unveil of perfectly-aligned teeth, that a soiree of otherworldly flowers sprout from the earth as gorgeous as she is, their velvety bodies dappled in sugared starlight and the tails of gold-gilded comets. She only meant to tease him, to see his reaction to her shamelessness, to stand witness to how he functions under pressure, to determine whether or not he crumbles under the topic of sex which stands to be her favourite and, instead, she finds herself enamored with him, held rapt by his stuttering and blushing in spite of his cocky personality, his sheepishness for all of his overbearing self-confidence. She does not realize the strength of her supernovæ-shaming smile, its Big Bang brilliance, its Eta Carinæ luminosity painting the world anew, their surroundings more vibrant, everything near them full of vim and vigor, bright and unbelievably striking as if she has poured indescribable colour into each item.
❝I… ❞ Distraction shades her luscious tones, her smile still blindingly strong despite such, ❝will keep that in mind,❞ she says, punctuating her sentence with a coy tilt of her head, placing a hand on her hip. ❝I can hardly concentrate, what with how adorable you are.❞ Her other hand, tentative in its movement, finds the curve of his cheek, to which she gently brushes the back of her knuckles against in an achingly romantic gesture, thereon running the tips of her fingers against his skin in appreciative, sensual-soused strokes. ❝I could kiss you… Could, if you told me how much you’d like me to.❞ It is a purred command and in no way a question.
Masamune doesn't realise he has been holding his breath until he releases it all at once; Kohana's smile is far too brilliant, far too dazzling, so much more beautiful than anything he has heretofore borne witness to. And yet she radiates an effulgent light that’s almost sweltering with its intensity, pools of effervescent green pouring out from beneath the heavy canopy of her eyelashes. She is so striking, so honest in this moment, the white of her teeth seeming to glitter as she gifts to him the largest smile he's ever seen grace her ethereal features. This smile of hers is one that she gives to him, the expression upon her face is for him, and in this knowledge he finds himself humbled before her.
Typically, he would balk at being called “adorable” and instead take it for an insult; he is a Daimyо̄, a samurai, a beacon of hope for his people, and above all -- and at the very least -- a constant burr in the side of all of his rivals. But when it comes from Kohana he finds himself arrested by the conviction and offers nothing but a gentle smile of his own in response. As when it comes from her, he doesn't take for granted the compliment, nor does he doubt the sincerity of it.
He is grateful.
He hasn't had the chance to respond and already she is reaching out to touch his cheek; he closes his eye reflexively and relishes the tender caress of her fingertips. Masamune is not used to kind touch. He has been formed by hurt and war, his own body a battlefield and there are too many bloodstains to count, to many scars etched into his skin like grave markers. But it doesn't seem to matter to her at all, doesn’t perturb her in the slightest as she continues to stroke his cheek lovingly.
He is utterly unprepared.
A quiet laugh falls from his lips, lightened by the release of tension the mere contact brings him. If she desired him to voice his desires, who was he to deny? It was the least that he could do to repay her for the comfort her mere presence brings him, for how she quiets the tempest of rage within his chest so effortlessly.
‵ I want you to kiss me, ′ he says. Simple. To the point. ‵ I find the very prospect to be all that occupies my mind. ′ He is nowhere near the romantic that she is, and so the admittance is perhaps a bit plain, but no less true. The idea of her in any capacity willfully touching him of her own volition (a tainted, twisted man, one who has been the hand of countless wrongs and in comparison so few rights) fills him with a sense of peace. He knows she is more than aware of his nature -- perhaps better than even his own retainer -- and trusts her decision, whatever it may be.
FITE ME OLD MAN.
I’m sorry, I don’t fight toddlers. I’m afraid I’ve passed that point in my life.
dokuganryuu reblogged
A hand finds itself on the wide width of her hip, her stance standoffish, mouth drawn into a feline sneer and eyes narrowed to slits, tilting her head slightly to the left in an attempt to make sense of this, to grasp his persistent dodging of her question ( it is unprecedented, it makes her upset ). ❝I’m asking you what you like up your ass.❞ A bit more blunt this time, a bit more stern. ❝Start speaking in full sentences before I shove my heel up it, then you’ll wish you did.❞
Just like that, he begins to choke on the air, choke on his own embarrassment. Masamune is naturally commanding and assertive; he knows what he wants, and cares little about the opinions of others lest they are of the exalted few he admires and respects -- and that makes for quite the interesting situation right now. He is capable of being quite brash and typically is, but right here, right now? The slow heat of embarrassment crawls up from his belly and stains his cheeks a bright red. What is a classy way to admit you like to get pounded so hard you forget your own name?
Trick question. There is none.
‵ I like anything as long as it’s big enough to feel but not so big that it hurts. I prefer the more .. natural textures, though, ′ he admits in a rush, staring her in the eye and trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. Hopefully his face just melts off in the next couple of seconds.
dokuganryuu reblogged
She brings an index finger to the corner of her cherry-ripe lips, smirk ever devious, her gaze full of liquor-laced mischief. ❝Just ‘massive’? I haven’t done anything yet, and already you’ve forgotten how to speak. You know how to elaborate, yes? Well then, don’t keep me waiting. I wish to hear your preferences.❞
His throat goes dry, and his gaze follows her finger; unconsciously, he licks his lips, attempting to gain some composure. He clears his throat, and rasps out, ‵ Preference? Ah -- ′ a pause that lasts a second too long, ‵ Fulfilling. ′ And as he says it, he knows he’s probably signed his own death sentence.