#But like... a much much more wholesome twist
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nikki-tine · 7 months ago
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f you receive this, you make somebody happy! go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better! HAVE A MIRACLE DAY!!!💙💙💙
Thank you - I don't really do chain mail stuff like this, however, but I'll leave this up for anyone who stops by my blog. c:
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terukotime · 5 months ago
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ok. i am like 50% sure it's Hu now.
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buckyalpine · 3 months ago
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Warnings: 18+ dub con, smut, Dark Bucky, breeding kinks. I want some Dark twin Bucky. Jealous twin Bucky. Manipulative, sexy, mob boss twisted Bucky. His brother James is everything good, everything wholesome, everything perfect. James had everything in life, the nicest house, a respectable job, the sweetest wife. Oh, how sweet his wife was.
Bucky couldn’t care less for the perfect reputation his brother had nor did he care for the money, he had so much more. More power. More control. The only thing his brother had that he wanted for himself was you. His brother didn't value or care for you for what you were worth, always working, focused on business, leaving you in the large house all by yourself. Bucky would have never. Not if he had you.
Loving, gentle, soft as silk.
Pure, untainted, everything he wasn't.
He had to have you.
"Babydoll"
You smiled hearing your husband enter your shared bedroom as you got out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around yourself before going to greet him. He sat at the edge of the bed with a knowing smirk, shamelessly eyeing you up and down like he always did, your cheeks heating up under his watchful stare. You loved how much he adored you. He strode over, humming at the scent of your body wash, his nose trailing up the column of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, his hands wandering to the edge of your towel.
"Miss me, baby?" He pulled it off, letting it pool to the floor leaving you bare before him, picking you up and laying on on the mattress, you were so perfect, pliant, he could already smell your arousal, your nipples pebbled against the cold air begging for his warm mouth.
"moy kotenok" He purred, nipping at your earlobe, your brows knitting in confusion, he never spoke Russian to you, only his brother-
“James?” You squeak, your heart starting to beat rapidly, blood running cold. This wasn’t your husband. You tried to scramble away, cover yourself but he grabbed your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. You then noticed the dark ink that peekd beneath his shirt, his telltale silver chain slipping out and dangling above your face. Your husband only wore his wedding ring, you tried so hard, unable to move his heavy body off you.
"Bucky-Bucky get off, what are you doing-
"Taking what should be mine, kotenok, showing you what being loved by a real man is like" He crawled off you, thighs spread wide kneeling in front of you. "He doesn't know what you deserve printsessa"
He shoved your legs apart, holding them from squirming, your twitching pearl amusing him. "S'been long, hasn't it, you say you don't want me but that swollen button says otherwise, what if I-"
He spits onto your clit making you cry out, a rough calloused thumb coming down to flick it to his hearts content. Your body jolted at the sensation, it was wrong, so wrong, God it had been so fucking long...
No.
"Bucky st-stop" You hiccupped as he moved faster, he could see your slick dampening the sheets, his idiot brother didn't know what he was missing.
"Why would I do that, hm? Look at how your body responds to me, you want this. Gonna get you so pregnant, bunny” Bucky smirked, giving his thick bulge a squeeze, making a show of shamelessly palming his erection. “Y’wouldnt even know who the daddy is”
He doesn't waste a second pulling his cock out, grinning at the way your cunt welcomes him home despite your futile protests. You scratch at him between moans of pleasure, your legs wrapping around his tapered waist. He pounds into you with purpose, he wants his child in your belly, he couldn't wait to see his brother dote on you not knowing any better.
He got harder thinking about your breasts leaking with milk as you got bigger, milk to feed his baby, milk to feed him. He'd find a way.
"Gonna put my child in you printsessa, give you my baby, show you where a man puts his cum, you'll take it won't you bunny, such a good housewife"
"No-No you-you can't oh God!" Your body shudders as pleasure and guilt washes over you, clinging onto him for dear life as he fucks you through your orgasm.
"That's right, cum for me, he can't make you cum like I can, don't think I haven't heard you with him, look at you, just a slutty little mess, you smell of sex kitten"
He intends on making the biggest mess in your pussy, needing it to drip onto the sheets you sleep in. You'd stay wrapped up in his essence while it leaked out of you, his sperm exactly where it needed to be, right in your belly-
"Get ready kitten, get ready to take it, fuck-squeezing me so good, tell me you want it, I know you do, m'gonna cum so hard for you princess, just for you, all this-fuck-do you feel it, s'all for you, SHIITTT" He roared, pumping you with the stutter of his hips, the headboard slamming against the wall as he emptied himself, shamelessly moaning into your neck.
The next 9 months would be interesting.
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delulustateofmind · 1 month ago
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Get Ghost'd!
Sum: So you ghosted a guy that like really, really likes you, what could possibly go wrong?
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Choso
TW: Yandere Behaviors (Drugging, Stalking, Obsession, Kidnapping, Trapping, Manipulation) Slight wholesome fluff? Older woman (5-10 years) x Gojo, Noncon smooches (Gojo), The girls are around 7 in this so young cult leader geto (Not as deranged yet but getting there), Choso's is more crack (Todo is mentioned)
WC: 6.1K
A/N: I was just only going to do Geto...but then I thought about all the other JJK characters that would just go so crazy if you just ignored them. No Nanami, because he's a good man and would respect it if you ignored him.
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Bold of you to assume you could just ghost the strongest-
Gojo Satoru had left his number for you.
He didn’t usually do that sort of thing—relationships were messy, and he simply didn’t have the time. Not with the weight of his responsibilities and the constant demands on his talent.
But then there was you, Megumi’s sweet next-door neighbor. The one who went out of your way to drop off food for the kids, who somehow managed to fold their laundry just the way they liked it. How could he not leave his number?
After all, he was the brat’s caretaker now, their benefactor. And, well, he could be your benefactor too, if you asked. Not even nicely—he’d do it if you so much as batted those pretty eyelashes at him and gave him one of those soft, shy smiles.
So why hadn’t you texted?
You had the time to make food for the kids. You had the time to do their laundry. But not even a reply for him? Not even a polite “Please don’t contact me”?
He tried to let it slide. Maybe you were nervous, unsure how to handle someone like him. He was Gojo Satoru, after all. But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the sting of your silence.
He wasn’t unreasonable—he understood the age gap might make you hesitate. He was freshly twenty, probably a few years younger than you. But honestly? That should work in his favor. How often does a hot, young stud go out of his way for someone like you?
You should be relishing in his attention. Cherishing the fact that he’d chosen you. Because let’s face it—you weren’t getting any younger. You should really consider settling for him.
No—scratch that. You should be grateful.
And yet, here you were, acting like he didn’t exist.
The knock on your door came late, almost too late for it to be anything casual. The soft thud echoed through your small apartment, catching you mid-step as you were putting away the last of the laundry.
When you opened the door, you weren’t prepared for the sight of him.
Gojo Satoru stood there, tall and imposing, framed by the dim glow of the hallway light. His white hair caught the faint light, tousled in that effortlessly perfect way. His signature round glasses perched low on his nose, revealing piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow, unblinking, as they locked onto yours.
His hands were stuffed casually into his pockets, his lean frame relaxed, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his easygoing facade.
“Hey,” he greeted, voice as light as ever, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that made your stomach twist. “You’ve been busy, huh?”
You blinked, thrown off by his sudden appearance. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”
He tilted his head, a teasing grin spreading across his face, his impossibly white teeth gleaming. “Satoru,” he corrected. “I think we’re close enough for that, don’t you?”
You faltered, searching for a polite response, but he didn’t give you the chance.
“Not even a little text?” he continued, stepping just a fraction closer. “I left my number, you know. Thought it was pretty obvious I wanted to hear from you.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the doorway felt between you. “I’m sorry—I’ve been really busy with work and helping out with Megumi and—”
He laughed, cutting you off. It was light, almost playful, but there was something unsettling about it. “Oh, I know. You’ve been making food for the kids, doing their laundry, running yourself ragged for them. But for me?” He leaned in slightly, his height forcing you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. “Not even a second of your time?”
Your throat tightened. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” he said, voice soft but dripping with something you couldn’t quite name. “I get it. Maybe you’re nervous. Maybe you think I’m too young, or you’re just not sure what to say to someone like me.” His grin widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re not avoiding me, are you?”
The way he said it made your pulse quicken.
“N-no, of course not,” you stammered, taking an instinctive step back.
“Good,” he said smoothly, taking a step forward as if he belonged inside your space. “Because I’d hate for there to be any misunderstandings between us. I mean, I’m just trying to look out for you.”
His gaze flicked over your shoulder at the neatly folded laundry behind you, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “All this running around for the kids? It’s sweet, really. But you should be taking better care of yourself, too.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his presence pressing in on you. “I… I’m fine, really. I just—”
“Just need someone to help you out,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to something softer, almost coaxing. “You do so much for everyone else. Don’t you think you deserve someone to take care of you for a change?”
There was a strange intensity in his gaze now, an undercurrent of something far more dangerous than his usual teasing charm.
“Satoru, I—”
“I could do that, you know,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. His touch lingered, his long fingers trailing along your jaw just enough to make your skin crawl. “Take care of everything. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Actually,” he cut in, his tone suddenly shifting, “I’ve been thinking. This arrangement? You here, me over there with the brats—it doesn’t make sense.”
You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”
He gave you a boyish grin, as if what he was about to say was the most obvious thing in the world. “We should live together.”
Your heart stopped for a moment. “W-what?”
“Think about it,” he said, stepping past you into your apartment without so much as a glance for permission. His long legs carried him casually across the room, but the tension in his movements was unmistakable. His sharp gaze darted over your space, the faint scowl on his face deepening as if your cozy apartment wasn’t quite up to his standards.
“You’re already taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki half the time,” he began, spinning around to face you, his white hair catching the dim light. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, their intensity almost too much. “And my life? Well, let’s just say it’s dangerous.”
“Satoru, I don’t—”
“You’d be safer with me,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now, the usual playful lilt missing entirely. “And the kids, too. We’d be one big happy family. You wouldn’t have to worry about bills or working yourself to the bone anymore—I’d handle everything.”
He said it like he was doing you a favor. Like it was something you should have already agreed to without hesitation.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you managed, your voice shaking slightly.
His expression twisted, the easygoing mask slipping entirely as frustration bled into his tone. “Why not? It makes perfect sense!” he snapped, his arms spreading wide in a gesture of exasperation. “You’re already basically living this life anyway, aren’t you? Cooking, cleaning, running yourself ragged for them. But when it comes to me? Nothing. Not a single second of your time!”
His words hit like a slap, the bitterness in his voice leaving you momentarily stunned.
“I didn’t ask for that,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Well, maybe you should have!” he retorted, his lips pulling into a sharp, mocking grin. “You’re fine on your own, huh? Sure, because that’s working so well for you. You think you’re being independent, but all I see is someone too stubborn to accept help—even when it’s standing right in front of you!”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his anger pressing down on you.
He laughed then, but it was humorless, the sound cutting through the air like broken glass. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that? You run around helping everyone else, but you can’t even give me a second of your attention. What’s the matter, huh? Am I not good enough for you?”
“Satoru, that’s not fair—”
“Not fair?” he interrupted, stepping closer, his height towering over you as his blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You want to talk about fair? I’m offering you everything—safety, security, a life, and you’re standing here acting like I’m some stranger asking for a handout!”
His words stung, his frustration bubbling over into something meaner, something sharper.
“I’m fine on my own,” you insisted again, though your voice was barely more than a whisper.
“No, you’re not,” he spat, his tone venomous now. “You’re delusional if you think you are. You’re just making excuses because you’re too scared to admit you need me.” He shook his head, his grin returning, bitter and condescending. “But that’s okay. I’ll fix that for you.”
Before you could respond, his hands shot up to cup your face, his long fingers curling just enough to hold you in place. His grip was firm, unrelenting, as his piercing blue eyes bore into yours.
“Stop overthinking it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, though his words felt more like a command than reassurance. “You’re wasting time. I know what’s best for you. And it’s me.”
You barely had time to gasp before his lips crashed against yours. The kiss wasn’t tender or affectionate—it was rough, forceful, and far too intense. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, cutting into the dryness of them causing a ting of blood to pool at the skin, the pressure somewhere between biting and bruising, as if he were marking you rather than kissing you.
Your hands flew up instinctively to push against his chest, but he didn’t budge. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his grip like iron. Every movement was desperate, consuming, and entirely unyielding.
“Satoru, stop,” you tried to mumble against his mouth, but he swallowed the words with another bruising kiss. It felt suffocating, as if he were trying to imprint himself on you—erase any thought of resistance.
When he finally pulled back, your lips felt swollen and raw, your breath coming in shallow gasps. But the worst part wasn’t the kiss itself—it was the look in his eyes.
They were bright, almost gleaming with satisfaction, but there was something beneath the surface.
He licked his lips, his smirk widening as he took in your dazed expression. “See?” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a chill down your spine. “You’re already mine. You just don’t realize it yet.”
You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to step back, but his hands were still on your waist, holding you in place.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he continued, his tone almost soothing now, though it carried an eerie finality. “You’ll see. This is what’s best. For you. For the kids. For all of us.”
His grip loosened just enough for you to pull away, but as you stumbled back, his eyes stayed locked on you, sharp and unrelenting.
“And don’t even think about running,” he added, his voice soft but chilling. “You won’t get far. I’ll make sure of it.”
Because Gojo Satoru didn’t lose. And you weren’t going anywhere.
I think I may have just ghosted a cult leader, how fucked am I? 
Geto Suguru sat in his living room, legs tucked beneath the kotatsu table, where the twins lay watching Ponyo for what felt like the hundredth time today. The familiar opera intro played, but he barely noticed it, he had lost count of how many times he'd have to endure it. His sleek, dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, the ends brushing the fabric of his yukata, and a faint shadow from his sharp cheekbones danced across his face in the flickering light.
The DVD would end up in the highest cabinet soon, stored away with the Sailor Moon box set. Only to pretend later on that he has no idea of where the discs went, that the twins should really take better care of their things.
His tea sat untouched on the table, long gone cold as he stared at his phone. Three days since you’d last messaged him. Four since he’d seen you. His dark eyes, always so calculating and composed, narrowed slightly as he swiped through the unread threads of his polite but unanswered messages. He told himself it was fine, that you were busy, but the creeping unease in his chest said otherwise.
Being ignored was new to him, something he hadn’t experienced in years. Women had always sought him out, drawn by the quiet intensity of his gaze, the sharp elegance of his jawline, and the magnetic calm that seemed to follow him like a shadow. They threw themselves at him, eager for a glance, a touch, a word.
But you? You were different. Sweet, shy, and delicate. A part of him had loved that about you. Now it gnawed at him.
Had you used him?
The thought was intrusive, bitter, but it refused to leave. He’d erased your debt, lifted the curse that had plagued you, welcomed you into his home—and into his life. He’d done it all for you, because your smile had been enough. The way it softened your features and brightened your eyes—he couldn’t forget it. You made the darkness in his world feel lighter.
But maybe it wasn’t enough for you.
Maybe you’d only stayed because you owed him. Maybe, now that you were free, you saw no reason to stay.
His hands tightened into fists, the phone shaking slightly in his grasp.
Staring at his phone, he reread the messages he’d sent you over the past few days:
"Hope you got home safe." "The snow’s falling. The girls have been asking when you’ll come over for hot cocoa." "Good morning. Please eat well." "Did you drink water today?"
What he wanted to send was, "Was the kiss too much?"
But every time he typed it out, his thumb hovered over the send button before deleting it. He’d even tried adding an emoji once, only to groan in frustration. Giving up, he reached for the twins, pulling them into a big hug. Their squeals of delight momentarily distracted him as he tickled their sides before letting them go. They returned to their movie, leaving him on the floor, still staring at his phone.
Why did you look at him with those wide, innocent eyes when he cradled your cheek and kissed you goodbye? Why did you press your warm hands against his chest, trembling as you murmured, “We shouldn’t”?
We definitely should, was all he wanted to say.
He had wanted to kiss you ever since that day you ended up babysitting the girls in his apartment. The kitchen was filled with laughter as Nanako sat on the counter, mixing a bowl of cupcake batter, while Mimiko dozed in your arms. You worked together to bake cookies, the domestic scene so painfully perfect it left an impression he couldn’t shake.
You’d cook for him on nights when he came home late, too busy with cult duties to eat. Sometimes you’d bring a spoon to his lips, letting him taste-test your dishes, though they never needed anything. They were always perfect—just like you.
You should have stayed.
You should have realized how much he needed you, how much the girls needed you.
And yet, deep down, he knew why you might not.
You were a non-sorcerer.
The thought of it, the implications of it, only deepened his frustration. How could you fit into his new world—a world built to eliminate people like you? People who didn’t understand the true horrors of jujutsu, who were blind to the curses lurking in the shadows. His grand plan, his vision for a better, cleaner world, was supposed to make everything simpler. Sorcerers would rule, and the weak would fall away.
But you…
You were the exception.
Suguru hated that about himself, hated that he would allow one tiny thread to unravel the tapestry he’d been weaving. You didn’t belong in the world he was building, yet you were the one piece he couldn’t let go of.
How could he protect you in a world where the strong would reign? Where weakness—your weakness—would be punished?
The memory of your laugh cut through the haze of his thoughts. It had been so genuine, so sweet, so human. You didn’t belong in his plans, and yet you did. You had to.
Because without you, his grand vision felt hollow. Without you, there was only emptiness.
His jaw clenched as the realization solidified. You didn’t understand it yet, but he was doing this for you. For the girls. For all of them. But mostly, for himself.
He would protect you from the world he was creating. No one would touch you. No one would harm you. You’d live in safety, as his. His alone.
The phone screen lit up, mocking him with your silence. He could see when you read his messages. That was the cruelest part. You weren’t gone. You were ignoring him.
He rubbed a hand over his face, the smooth planes of his features momentarily obscured as he exhaled through gritted teeth. Maybe he’d been too soft with you. Maybe you thought you could just walk away now that the curse was gone, now that you didn’t owe him anything.
But you were wrong. You owed him everything.
The girls needed a mother. He needed you. The thought of you living a life without him, smiling for someone else, was unbearable. His lips twisted into a bitter smile as he typed out another message.
"The girls miss you.""I miss you."
Suguru’s thumb hovered over the send button, his jaw tightening as he debated. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he erased the message. Words wouldn’t be enough. Not anymore.
You needed a reminder.
He picked up his phone again, this time dialing. His assistant, Manami, answered on the second ring, her tone eager—too eager, though he ignored it. Manami had always looked at him in a way that suggested she wanted more than her job description entailed. A part of him in the past would humor the affection. Yet, now he has you. .
“I need you to watch the girls,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll be out for a while, picking up a... gift for them.”
Manami didn’t question him, though her tone softened, as though she thought he was doing something noble. If only she knew.
As he ended the call, his gaze shifted to the cult’s records, neatly organized and as precise as always. He was thankful for the meticulous documentation; it gave him everything he needed. Not just your number, but your address, your emergency contacts, your employment details—more than enough to find you.
Suguru let his fingers trace the edge of the file, his dark eyes scanning the information. Every detail about you, laid out in front of him. You had no idea how easily you could be found.
You could try to run, try to disappear—but you were his from now on.
Grabbing his coat, Suguru stepped out into the snow, the icy wind stinging his face. Words had failed; now he’d remind you. 
The soft glow from your apartment window illuminated the snow-covered street. He didn’t knock when he reached your door. He didn’t need to. The door yielded easily, and he slipped inside, the faint warmth of your home wrapping around him. The contrast between the cold air outside and the heat within was sharp, almost dizzying, but he welcomed it.
The sound of your soft, uneven breaths reached his ears before he saw you. There you were, standing in the kitchen, a cup of tea clutched in your hands. Your shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on your forehead despite the winter chill. He noticed the trembling in your hands, the red tinge to your nose, and the way your other hand clutched at your chest when you coughed—a deep, rattling sound that made his brow furrow for a fleeting moment.
You looked pale, worn down, and fragile. For a moment, the sight almost softened him. Almost.
Almost made him forget why he was there. Forget the punishments he had planned. The ways he would teach you to never leave him again.
But that fleeting moment of pity was snuffed out as quickly as it came, replaced by a darker, more resolute purpose.
You had to learn.
You had to understand what it meant to belong to him.
Suguru’s fingers flexed at his sides, his mind racing through the plans he had already set in motion. He would remind you of his power—show you what a real curse user was capable of. That as sweet as he can be, he can also be cruel.
If fear wasn’t enough, he had other methods. He had already prepared the sedatives, carefully measured and tucked into his coat pocket. Once the fight left your eyes—and it would—he would take you home.
Home, where you would learn your role.
You would become the mother the girls needed. His law was absolute in their eyes, and soon it would be the same for you.
And if you resisted? If you dared to reject him, even after all he’d done for you?
Suguru’s lips twitched into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t want to think about that outcome, but he’d already considered it. Conditioned responses. Physical reminders. Unsavory methods. Honestly, he didn't want to hurt you. However, he needed you. The girls needed you.
No matter what it took, you would learn to stay. To belong.
Then you turned and saw him.
The teacup slipped from your hands, shattering against the floor. The sharp sound echoed in the tense silence that followed, but Suguru didn’t flinch. He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his expression unreadable.
“Ah,” he murmured, his voice soft and lilting, as though he were speaking to a child. “You’re sick.”
He stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate, and predatory. The sight of your wide, fearful eyes only spurred him on.
“Too sick,” he continued, his tone warm but laced with an edge of mockery, “to even send me a little message?”
You stumbled back, your breath hitching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Your pale skin, the feverish flush to your cheeks, and the way you clutched at your chest as another cough wracked your body only made you seem more breakable.
Suguru stopped just a few steps away, watching as you trembled, your fear and exhaustion painting you as something delicate—something his.
“You’ve been suffering all alone,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, soothing hum. He reached out, his fingers brushing your wrist before curling around it with surprising gentleness.
“But don’t worry,” he murmured, leaning closer until his breath ghosted over your fevered skin. “I’m here now.”
He let his thumb stroke the inside of your wrist, his gaze unrelenting as his other hand moved to your cheek. The touch was soft, reverent even, but his dark eyes betrayed him, gleaming with something that made your stomach churn, something that sent shivers that weren’t from your cold.
“You’ve been making bad decisions, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice soft and sweet, though his words cut like glass. “Running yourself ragged. Avoiding me.”
His fingers tightened slightly around your wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to make his control clear as you pathetically attempted to pull away.
“But it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’ll take care of everything now.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, his voice dripping with false kindness, “All you have to do is listen. Obey. I really didn’t want to have to go this route.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. His breath was warm against your fevered skin, his tone deceptively soft, as though he were doing you a favor.
You had never thought he was this interested in you. Suguru Geto was composed, almost aloof in how he carried himself—sharp features that seemed carved from stone, softened only by the flowing darkness of his hair. He had always been polite, controlled, and even gentle in his mannerisms, but you’d never felt singled out by his attention. Never thought the kindness in his deep, almond-shaped eyes was anything more than surface-level.
But now, as those same eyes pinned you in place, you realized how mistaken you’d been. His presence felt suffocating, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name, and every movement he made was deliberate—calculated.
Suguru straightened slowly, his hand slipping from your wrist to his pocket, his movements unhurried and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. The room felt unbearably small under his presence, the heat of his gaze making your fevered skin prickle. His dark eyes never left yours, their intensity weighing down on you, as if he could see through the fragile walls of your thoughts.
When his fingers brushed the familiar shape of the syringe tucked into his coat pocket, his smile widened. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—a slight curve of his lips that revealed nothing of the storm swirling beneath his calm exterior. There it was—his failsafe. The assurance that you wouldn’t resist him any longer.
Your gaze flickered between his face and his hand, confusion and fear swimming in your fevered, glassy eyes. You wanted to protest, to push him away, but your body betrayed you. The trembling in your limbs, the bone-deep exhaustion, and the subtle pull of his voice, coaxing and unyielding, made it impossible to act.
Then, instinctively, you leaned into his touch, your trembling body seeking comfort, seeking something you didn’t understand. To him, it was perfect.
His hand, warm and firm, cupped your cheek as though you were fragile porcelain. The juxtaposition of his gentleness and the dark glint in his eyes made your stomach churn. He tilted his head slightly, the smooth cascade of his hair framing his face like a curtain, and his gaze softened, almost tender, as though he were truly savoring the moment.
Like the sweet lamb you were, you stepped willingly into the lion’s den.
“You’re coming home,” he said softly, his tone a mixture of mockery and affection. The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and inescapable, and you barely had time to comprehend them before you felt the sharp prick of the needle pierce your skin.
A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was fleeting. The sedative coursed through your veins almost immediately, your body surrendering to the pull of unconsciousness.
Suguru caught you effortlessly as you fell, his arms wrapping around your limp form with an ease that betrayed just how much he had anticipated this moment. He cradled you against his chest with a gentleness that felt almost loving, the steady beat of his heart contrasting with the sinister gleam in his eyes.
“There we go,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as though you were something precious. “Let’s get you home, Sweetheart.”
What the hell does ghosting even mean? What does spamming even mean? Poor fella is trying to figure out life. 
Now you had given poor Choso your number. Really, truly a mistake on your part. 
You thought he was hot—mysteriously so, with his brooding gaze and those face tattoos that made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t a big deal, just a spur-of-the-moment thing when you spotted him at the bookstore while out with friends. You’d caught his eye, flashed him a smile, and casually slipped him your number on a whim.
What you didn’t realize was that poor Choso didn’t really know what to do with it.
For him, it was monumental. You didn’t just hand over your number; you handed over your heart. At least, that’s what Todo told him when Choso, unsure what the gesture meant, hesitantly sought advice. He couldn’t just ask his little brother these things, so he went to the expert about these things! After all, Todo was dating an idol! 
“She must be madly in love with you!” Todo had declared with his usual bombastic enthusiasm, clapping Choso on the shoulder so hard it nearly made him topple. “To give you her number without even talking? That’s destiny, brother! Love at first sight!”
And Choso believed him. Why wouldn’t he? Todo seemed confident, experienced.
So Choso, armed with Todo’s wisdom, started texting you.
And texting.
And texting.
At first, they were awkwardly sweet messages:
Choso: Hey. It’s Choso. From the bookstore. You gave me your number.Choso: Are you free to talk? I want to know more about you.
But then they kept coming.
Choso: Do you like horror books? Or romance? I can read both if you do.Choso: I saw a cat today. It reminded me of you.Choso: Do you like cats? I mean, not that you look like one. But you’re soft. Wait, not that I know if you’re soft. You just seem soft.
And then they started to come faster, his nervous overthinking spilling into endless walls of text.
Choso: Did I say something wrong? Are you upset with me?Choso: I hope I’m not bothering you. I just… I think we’d be good together.Choso: Please text me back. I can wait.
What Choso didn’t realize was that spamming someone all day wasn’t exactly endearing—it was overwhelming. But in his mind, the silence meant something entirely different.
“Todo,” Choso said one evening, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, his phone clutched in both hands. His dark brows furrowed as he stared at the unanswered messages. “She hasn’t responded. Do you think… do you think she’s playing hard to get?”
Todo grinned, throwing an arm around Choso’s shoulders. “Absolutely, brother! She’s testing your devotion. This is how women work. They want to see if you’re truly worthy.”
Choso nodded solemnly, his determination renewed. “I’ll show her. I’ll show her I’m serious.”
His solution? Doubling down.
When texting didn’t work, he tried calling. His voice shook the first few times—it felt so intimate, so real.
“Hi,” he murmured into the phone one evening after your voicemail picked up again. “It’s me. Choso. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you (the poor guy has only seen you one time). I mean—I know we haven’t talked much, but I miss you anyway (you have only exchanged names by the way). I think about you a lot. Please call me back when you can.”
And when the calls didn’t work, his thoughts began to spiral.
Was something wrong? Were you hurt? He’d seen it on TV—people ghosted because they couldn’t bring themselves to tell someone they were in trouble. Yes, that must be it.
So he started showing up.
First, it was just near the bookstore where he’d met you, hoping to “bump into” you. Then he wandered around the streets, retracing the route he thought you might take home.
Finally, he remembered the faint logo on your shopping bag that day, the one with your number scrawled on the receipt of. He found the shop, waited outside it for hours, hoping for a glimpse of you.
When he didn’t see you, his concern grew.
“Todo,” he said again one night, pacing his living room, his fingers tightening around his phone. “I don’t think she’s okay. She wouldn’t just ignore me like this. Not if she loved me.”
Todo shrugged, flipping through a magazine. “Maybe you need to show her how much you care. Do something big. Romantic.”
Choso froze, considering the advice. Todo was right. He just needed to show you.
And so, as you walked into your apartment the next evening, juggling groceries in both arms, you froze at the sight of a figure standing awkwardly in your living room.
“Choso?” you gasped, your heart leaping into your throat.You were already reaching for your phone. “How did you—”
He turned to you, a hesitant smile on his lips, his hands holding a bouquet of slightly wilted flowers. His dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of nervousness and relief, as if he were genuinely happy to see you.
“I was worried,” he said softly, stepping toward you. “You weren’t answering… so I thought I’d come check on you.” You had never given him your address. You had only given him your family name. 
You stared at him, your mind racing, caught somewhere between shock and fear.
Choso tilted his head, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Did I… do something wrong?”
You stared at Choso, your groceries still in your arms, the door half-open behind you. He didn’t move any closer, but the sight of him standing there, so out of place in your living room, sent a chill down your spine.
“How… how did you get in here?” you managed, your voice trembling.
Choso blinked, tilting his head slightly as if you’d asked him a question he didn’t understand. “Your lock wasn’t very secure,” he said simply, holding up what looked like a slim piece of metal. “I was worried. You haven’t been responding, and I thought something might have happened to you.”
The sincerity in his voice was almost disarming, but the implication of his words made your skin crawl.
“Choso,” you said slowly, setting the groceries down on the counter and keeping the island between you as a buffer, “you can’t just… break into someone’s home.”
His brows furrowed, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “I wasn’t breaking in,” he said softly, almost as if the accusation hurt him. “I just needed to make sure you were okay. You haven’t been answering me, and I thought…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced at the flowers in his hands, his grip tightening slightly around the stems.
“I’ve been busy,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “You didn’t need to do this. I’m fine.”
“But you’re not,” he said quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours. There was an intensity in his gaze, like he truly believed every word he was saying. “You’re not fine. If you were, you would’ve answered me. Something must be wrong.”
“No, Choso,” you said firmly, taking a deep breath. “I wasn’t ignoring you because something’s wrong. I’ve just been busy with work and other things. And honestly… you’re sending way too many messages. It’s overwhelming.”
His face fell, the fragile hope in his expression crumbling. “Overwhelming?” he echoed, as if the word were foreign to him. “But I thought… I thought you wanted me to care about you.”
You hesitated, the raw vulnerability in his voice making your stomach twist. “Choso, I gave you my number because I thought you seemed nice. That’s all. I didn’t mean for this to… to go this far.”
He stared at you, unblinking, as if trying to process your words. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, he spoke, his voice trembling slightly. “So… you don’t want me to care about you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you said quickly, trying to keep your tone gentle. “I just think maybe you’ve misunderstood. I didn’t mean for you to think… we were something more.”
His grip on the flowers tightened, the fragile petals crumpling beneath his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes distant as if he were lost in thought.
Then, slowly, he nodded. “I understand,” he murmured, though his tone was unsettlingly calm. “You’ve been busy. You’ve been… overwhelmed.”
You exhaled in relief, thinking maybe he’d finally gotten the message. But then he looked up at you again, his eyes bright with a strange, unsettling determination.
“I’ll just come check on you more often,” he said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d made up his mind.
Your heart sank. “Choso, that’s not—”
“No, it’s okay,” he interrupted, his tone almost cheerful now. “You don’t have to feel bad. I know you’re busy, and sometimes it’s hard to keep up with everything. But I can help. I can make sure you’re okay. You shouldn’t have to do everything on your own.”
The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made your blood run cold.
“You don’t need to do that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to check on me.”
“But I want to,” he insisted, his expression softening with something that almost looked like affection. “I care about you. Isn’t that what you want? Someone who cares?”
You stepped back, the counter pressing into your spine as you tried to put more distance between you. “Choso, this isn’t—”
“It’s okay,” he said again, cutting you off with a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll make it work. You don’t have to say anything now. I’ll take care of it.”
Before you could respond, he stepped toward the door, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re never too busy again.”
And then he was gone, leaving the faint scent of crushed flowers in the air.
You locked the door behind him, your hands trembling as you slid the deadbolt into place. The faint scent of crushed flowers still lingered in the air, a sickly-sweet reminder of his presence.
For a moment, the silence felt almost deafening. You stared at the door, hoping—praying—that this would be the end of it.
Choso didn’t understand.
He didn’t understand boundaries, didn’t understand what his actions meant to you. To him, this wasn’t wrong—it was pure love. That you must love him too. 
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piastrixpole · 3 months ago
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ménage à trois - pierre gasly & kika gomes
pairing: pierre gasly x kika gomes x fem!engineer
genre: smau
faceclaim(s): madison beer, pinterest girls
f1gossip just posted
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liked by user4, user10 and 130,000 others
Trouble in paradise for our favourite Frenchman?🚗💨Spotted after the Brazilian GP getting cosy with a mystery brunette who is not his girlfriend 👀 Sources say the two were all over each other in the club and left together later that night
user1: I feel so bad for Kika, she was there supporting him! 💔
user2: Messy, messy, messy. I need to see how he explains this 👀
user3: I can’t believe he’d do this while she’s right there! She deserves better
user4: Can't believe he'd cheat on a baddie like Kika
user5: Someone find out who she is, we need answers ASAP!
->user6: maybe it's just me but it kind of looks like yn ln!
user5: his engineer? nurse she's out again
twitter
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by pierregasly, fransisca.cgomes, alpinef1team and 93,547 others
Te amo Brasil! So proud of Pierre and our first podium together! 🏆 Here’s to many more 🫶✨
pierregasly: Merci, Yn!! Best engineer around 👏🏆 I couldn’t have done it without you!
->yourusername: all you mon ami, can't wait to do it again
->user45: are we all seeing this right now? kika get behind me
user12: You’re seriously posting this after the rumours??
user 20: She really has no shame...posting kika as well like she didn't get with her man
francisca.cgomes: Proud of you both!! Well deserved
->yourusername: thank you my love
->user13: this is insane HELLO? not her acting like kika's bsf when she hooked up with pierre
user37: This is messy but I kinda live for it 😳
user17: I'm so disappointed in yn for this! She was such an icon for us aspiring girls in motorsports and then she does this
user2: Imagine being Kika and seeing this post after the gossip 😭
user5: Girl… you know we all caught you on f1gossip, right? 😬
user29: Homewrecker
messages
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fransisca.cgomes posted a story!
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[image 1: ☺️ ] [image 2: gorgeous @yourusername]
yourusername replied: te amooo kiks missing you both so much
->francisca.cgomes: we miss you more angel
yourusername posted a story!
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[image1: cute date kinda nervous] [image2: ❤️]
Fanbehaviour pod just uploaded:
Yn Ln on Working in F1, Engineering and her relationship with Pierre Gasly and Kika Gomes
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pierregasly just posted!
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liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, charlesleclerc and 530,987 others
guess the rumours are true...just not in the way you thought they're both my girls
yourusername: love youuu
->pierregasly: my smart girl je t'aime
francisca.cgomes: love you and our girl so much
->pierregasly: And I’m the luckiest to have you both. ❤️👑 Mon coeur et mon amour
charlesleclerc: mate how did you end up with two girls out of your league
->pierregasly: obviously my charm and good lucks
->yourusername: nah it was the tripod😋
->francisca,cgomes: agreed
user20: THROUPLE HARD LAUNCH. I’m screaming, they really did that!
user23: Wait, I love this for them?
user19: Kika the ultimate wag
user 35: I didn’t expect this but… I support it. As long as you’re all happy!
francsica.cgomes just posted!
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux and 123,746 others
the ultimate wag
yourusername: te amo lindaaa🤤
->francisca.cgomes: lindinha🥰
pierregasly: my girls
->francisca.cgomes: forever yours meu amor
alexandrasaintmleux: the cutest couple!
user42: obsessed with this hard launch
user35: this is so wholesome 😭
user93: I did not expect this season to give me my new favourite relationship, but here we are
user16: what a plot twist but i stan this power trio
user67: How is it possible for one couple to be THIS perfect?
user48: sleeping on the motorway tonight when is it my turn😫
yourusername just posted!
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liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yourbsf and 59,870 others
Three’s a crowd? Only if you’re not invited. 😉❤️
pierregasly: love you!! even if i can't keep my hands off you ever
->yourusername: i'd go through it again to have you and kiks💗
francisca,cgomes: that's my wifey🤭
->yourusername: put a ring on it baby💋
yourbsf: Finally i couldn't go much longer without fighting someone on your behalf
->yourusername: i adore you
user89: Now THIS is what we call a power move
user76: f1gossip found dead in a ditch
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h-didanart · 4 months ago
Note
Good evening ✨✨✨
I may have exactly what you want ✨
Several versions even ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
What can I say, I saw an interesting plot point that was completely and utterly abandoned and unacknowledged and then proceeded to hammer it into as many aus of mine as is possible :3
I think we need more more AU that look into just how different blood copy (made by ruin) & blood moon (made by eclipse) are.
Like, the blood moon that ruin made was in the same boat as eclipse when they were alive, so it would be really interesting if anyone explored it more, whether it be from code mess ups, or just different dynamics, heck, even an alternate universe where someone just straight up tells blood copy that they’re not the original blood moon. I feel like that would be interesting.
They’re definitely routes that could be taken with this in mind, from possibly trying to distance themselves from the blood moon name (trying to push that they are not anyone’s tools), trying to prove that they are somehow the original/better than the original, an existential identity crisis.
Moe universes where ruin messes up their code in a way that creates someone that is supposed to be a blood moon, but is very different from said image also pretty interesting.
Hell even AUs where they have a completely different dynamic in October are interesting!
I really just feel like this singular concept of the animatronics ruin making just being copies of the original ones has so much potential that was never really delved into with the show. The most we got of this was everyone acknowledging that the eclipse ruined made isn’t the original eclipse. Would that’s it. 
I wanted them to have a father-son relationship :D
#yes this is about the Grief Trio#Bloody and Harvest may have been in a breakdown but the distinctions between them and the originals were too strong for them to ignore—#—they don’t resonate with the Bloodmoon name anymore but they will carry it despite the horrors tied to it#also they made a small memorial for the originals in one of the trees they sleep at for the original’s birthday that’s been canon for 5 mont#Ruby and Vermillion are double this first being a BMII second by being reset from that state—#—they *hate* their predecessors and do not take the Bloodmoon name at all#Cherry and Mahogany were in the middle of splitting from what everyone expects from a Bloodmoon when they reached their breaking point#Original is weird in this regard. he understands he isn’t the first Bloodmoon but doesn’t think less of himself in that aspect—#—he even thinks he and Adaptation were the upgrades more apt for killing and brandishing the name#of course any and all passion for that went down the drain during April#as for other interesting cases#Ocean doesn’t have a distinction between the OG and copies they’ve all been around for some time but there is differences between—#—the more pushy and action oriented Bloody and Scythe and the more follower type and reserved Rabies and Harvest#Hunter is AN original AI in a copy body which you’d think would minimize the identity crisis. it doesn’t :) His memoriesget manipulated—#—and twisted into making him see Jigsaw as his other so when Jigsaw is no longer in the picture… things get bad#Fantasy dealt with being brought back to life from whatever traces of a soul Ruin could get which weren’t many—#—much themes of purpose and not knowing what to do with yourself with them#WH is also an OG ai in copy body but unlike Hunter Buzzsaw doesn’t manipulate their feelings so badly—#—they have an oddly wholesome roommate//only-person-i-can-rely-on dynamic#Horror BMII was supposed to be an incredibly mean prank on Eclipse having to do with his recently deceased sibling(s)—#—that’s the standard for them and things only get worse#I could go on but I feel like I kinda already overstepped in this so sorry about that I just saw someone ACTUALLY talk about an aspect abo—#—ut BM that I love and is extremely under appreciated and underused and I kinda just started typing and didn’t stop and#tldr; I like BM too much#tsams au confessions#posts by others#sams bloodmoon
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mooishbeam · 1 year ago
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『♡』 Rises the Moon
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♡ featuring: dan heng IL x f!reader
♡ summary: you help dan heng work through his heat cycle wc: 3.1k+
♡ cw/tw: canon-divergent, breeding, praise, kinda sad but wholesome, monster-fucking, heat cycle, blowjob, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, biting
notes: super canon divergent ik vidyadhara can't have kids but ahhh dan heng breed brainrot :P ruahh I need that lc
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Cracked from a shimmering pearl into the cold deception of a ship no longer home, that damned his ill-fated legacy. A lonely forgone dragon wanders a lifetime in purgatory, searching for hands to follow, for he was reborn into the dead silence of solitude. He stretched his inhuman heart as far as it could reach, enough for anyone to hold. But it twisted and tangled in thorns, cradled by serpents' eyes that prayed for his ruin. In brief moments of rest, his visions were suffocated with catastrophic destruction unbeknownst to the reincarnate. When he was eventually released, no one turned for him; a trail of fire he would have to walk alone, bleeding for repentance until his sin was permanently consumed by the collapsing universe.  
A race cursed to live forever rarely knew joy or love to its full extent, as all things mortal would return to the ground beneath them. It wasn’t worth the attachment, nor the deserved doom of a man denied salvation. 
Your arrival at the space station upturned his perception. He wasn’t sure why he yearned to be near you, why his senses craved your smell and sight. He had to distance himself from you as much as possible, but the melody of your pure voice stored a rhythm in his core that could not be removed. He lamented the blooming affection in his discernment. Often lying awake at night, struggling to satiate the urges. 
To you, he was Dan Heng. The solemn, headstrong friend that seldom spoke in your presence. Your favorite pastime was playful banter; he rarely smiled, but it pulled at your heartstrings when the corners of his lips slightly lifted. When he picked at his food, you went out of your way to find out what he preferred and arranged your meals around his. You spent almost all of your time on the parlor car. That isn’t to say you weren’t interested in adventuring, you frequently noted the prettiest gems March showed you during their trips. You asked Dan about the stuff he enjoyed, but it’d usually amount to “I was too focused on staying alive to take in the scenery.” You recall entering your room after their return and noticed an iron scrap flower sitting on your windowsill. Dan nonchalantly admitted to the act, mentioning how he overheard your liking for metallic constructs. You originally thought this was simply an extension of your friendship, but the burning ache in your body spoke otherwise. The little things he did, such as bringing small gifts or ingredients for you to experiment with made you seek that numbed heart, imprisoned in ice. 
Himeko joked about your sour mood whenever Dan Heng was gone. You read while she stared at you, amused by the pout on your face. “Hmm, your boy toy is missing. Feeling down?” Your head shot up, ears hot from the assumption.  
“W-what? No, of course not. We’re friends, Himeko.” you panicked. She softly giggled. 
“Don’t worry. They’re coming back soon.” You peeked up from the pages. 
“...When?” you mumbled. “A few days. Now you can stop being so sad.” 
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You were ecstatic when they arrived, ready to hear about their grueling journey, and more so happy to see Dan Heng. As March relived her storytelling, you observed him. He seemed to be in a trance. His expression was the same as always, but he felt disconnected from you, like he discerned a grim future. He didn’t come to dinner and went to sleep. When you asked March if something happened, she shifted uncomfortably but finally spoke.  
“Dan Heng...he changed on the Xianzhou Luofu.” She’d conveniently left out most of the story. 
“What do you mean ��changed’?” you questioned, finding it hard to mask your worries. “He had horns and... It was all really new. I kinda wanna forget about it, too.” You didn’t pressure her for more information, and she went to her room shortly after.  You tossed in your sleep, wondering what he must’ve gone through, and what you could do to help him. 
You awoke in an inky blue void, the stars cascading a brilliant aura across the night. There were no other planets visible; only the vast moon, a divinely warm glow, alluring and protective in your gaze. Heavenly bodies carried infinitely above, shaping the moon in its godlike image. You stood in a comparatively small pool of iridescent liquid that waterfalled off each side. It marbled from refracted shimmers, cool to the touch. Somehow life emerged in the barren quiet, white lotus’ decorating most of the area. They never spilled down the stream, as if they'd been waiting. In said pool, was a man with elvish ears and gleaming horns, kneeling turned away from you. His pale arms were shackled behind him, and his delicate hair cascaded down his naked back. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sobs he tried to stifle. You wanted to comfort him, to calm his nerves. You took a step, and he stopped. He didn’t acknowledge you. You took another step, your hand wishing to touch him. Before you could, you phased out of your dream.  
For the next two weeks, he didn’t leave his room. Not when you were around. At the same time, this reoccurring dream was plaguing your thoughts. It ended the same way each time. March aimed to console you, but you felt she knew more than she led on. Fatigued from your restless mind, you decide to talk to Himeko instead. She stirs her drink while Welt reads the paper. 
“Good morning, (Y/N).” said Welt. 
“Good...morning.” you yawned, rubbing your worsening eyebags. 
“You don’t seem okay. Is everything alright?” Himeko asks, motioning for you to sit beside her. 
“Something is wrong with Dan Heng and March isn’t telling me everything. I was hoping you would.” Welt clears his throat, sets the paper on the table and walks away. Himeko puts her hand on your knee. 
“He’s feeling unwell right now. It’s best we don’t disturb him.” 
“I’ve been having this weird dream, of a guy with horns. He’s crying. And I can’t save him. What does this mean? Why is everyone keeping this from me?” Alarm flashes in her expression, but she composes herself. She sucks in a deep breath. “Do you know what a Vidyadhara is?”  
“No.” 
“Vidyadhara descended from dragons, and they’re very powerful. Dan Heng is a special case of Vidyadhara, so we must treat him as such.” 
“So why can’t I see him?”  
“It’s important that we avoid him while he’s in the process of...getting through this.” 
“But someone has to check on him, right? I could be the one to do it-” 
“(Y/N). Dan Heng requested specifically, that I don’t allow you to see him.” You felt your heart pierce. You believed you were friends with him, so why was he forcing you away? “Oh. Okay.” you said meekly. You went back to your room to contemplate. 
 You were a ghost throughout the day, serving food in silence. When the crew went to bed you prepared a hearty soup to soothe whatever illness he had. He’d probably reject it, but the selfish side wanted to know why he was upset with you. Even if he didn’t have an answer, perhaps his voice would be adequate. Arriving at his door, you knock twice gently. 
“I have some soup for you. Himeko said you were feeling ill. I won’t disrupt you, just want to make sure you’re eating.” He said nothing. “If you’re not hungry, let me know and I can store it for tomorrow. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.” You hear rustling inside, but he still said nothing. 
“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.” 
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you to go away.” His voice is feeble, and it scares you. 
“Can I please leave this on your desk? I’ll go away right after, I promise.” You 're practically begging, but you need to see him and know he’s okay. Dan Heng’s weakening mindset rationalizes his risky judgement, and he allows you to come in. He should be able to defend you from himself with the strength he has left; there’s no other choice. “Okay.” 
When you open the door, you’re horrified at the state. Books and precious documents were strewn across the floor or shredded, along with most of the blankets. He’s hunched over on the futon clenching his abdomen, strands of hair sticking to his shiny forehead and puffy lips. He was in a form you've never seen, dressed in elegance in contrast to his shaking figure. The clothes were disheveled, however, the window on his top ripped down the middle, exposing the muscular torso underneath with his pants pulled just under his v-line. He's flushed and sweating, a look in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you. What was most shocking were the pointy ears and horns protruding from his head. The same ones from your dream. He tracks you as you walk to his desk. He’s undoubtedly weak, and yet you feel hunted. You set the soup down. 
“Shouldn’t you ask Bailu about this?” 
“I did already. There’s nothing she can do. I have to wait.” You get on your knees next to him, and he recoils from your proximity. 
“Wait for what?” 
“I'm hot all over, all the time. Nothing I do works, even when I feel good it’s not enough.” he rasps. His eyes are shut in an attempt to null the intense sensation blazing in his veins. You ultimately realize what he means and regret your cluelessness. Still, you don’t leave, deconstructing his resolve. Suddenly, Dan Heng feels the tender press of your palm to his forehead; the touch of someone he could recognize in different timelines and different bodies. The scent of morning dew at early sunrise, the light in its darkness, bitter and sweet and persistent. He punished the thought of ravaging you, but the incessant thump of his member was staggering. He grabs your wrist tight, a guilty look in his eyes. 
“I can’t control myself. Go. Now” he shouts. His anger doesn’t scare you, and your other hand caresses his cheek. 
“Does it hurt? I can help you.” Dan Heng’s frozen as your fingers travel down his Adam's apple, then his chest, to the hem of his bottoms. He’s on his back taking deep labored breaths, the print growing from your airy brushes. 
“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” 
You spring his cock free, and it bounces into your hand. It’s thick and almost twelve inches, a rosy-brown gradient to the mushroom tip. His veins dance around the rounded spikes lining up his shaft on both sides. A frustrated sigh leaves him, beads of pre come dripping down his balls. You lubricate your hands with his slick and start to slowly pump him. His head is spinning, the intoxicating ecstasy makes him rut his hips and bite his blushed lips. You fondle his balls with one hand while massaging the tip with the other. Whimpers echo pleasantly in your ears, and he can’t stop watching you, drinking up your shy glances. It twitches in your hold; you can feel how close he is. He’s falling apart because of you and your dampened underwear accepts it. You push your thumb in his mouth and part it to reveal excessive drool and sharp canines.  
“Do you like it?” you tease. He makes noise resembling an “uh huh” through teary eyes. 
“You wanna come?” He quivers from the question. He can only manage a moan. You move to his base, and you slaver at the daunting size before running your tongue along the urethra and taking him in your mouth. He throws his head back but tries to restrain himself from bucking into you. You can barely get it halfway as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head, he trembles from unconstrained pleasure.  
“Please, I’ll do anything please let me come” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks. You move your hands with the suction along his gradually noisy whimpers, the occasional gag from sloppy grinding. 
“Ah, ‘m gonna come-” he chokes, his chest hitched rapidly, spurting ropes that flood your throat. He rides the wave against you until you pull up. When you meet with him again, his demeanor changes. He instantly snatches you into his arms and smothers his nose in your stomach. He tears your clothes off impatiently, just to taste your bare skin. “Dan-” 
“You smell so good. Aeons, why do you smell so good.” He gazes at you darkly, littering wet kisses across your stomach and chest. His slender hands grope and explore anything they can reach. It was like he had a burst of energy; he nearly lifts you off his lap. You notice his horns get progressively longer, a dim radiance outlining them. His nails grew too, they dragged light scratches over your breasts to your hips. He pulls you to him, lips barely hovering before they collide into a deep, passionate exchange. Unspoken words allow teeth and tongue to mix, and you moan into each other. The pheromones hugging his consciousness are addictive, he needs more of it. He promptly flips you on your back, his eyes look down on you with a starving glint. 
“I’m hungry now.” 
“Oh sure, I can warm up the-” 
“No. Let me eat you.” His statement was more of a demand than a request, as he mangles your panties down your legs. He forces your thighs back and appreciates the glistening sticky folds. “Stunning” he purrs. He licks a flat strip to your clit and laps up your juices, then envelops his mouth in your heat. His firm squeeze prevents you from escaping the determined pink muscle, swirling and twisting around you. He switches between French kisses to your vulva and merciless sucking on the erect bud. He’d rather drown in you than catch his breath, your essence covers his jaw and chin. You card your fingers through his scalp and accidentally sweep his horns; he shudders. You rub the pad of your thumb on it, earning a strangled whimper. His tongue sinks into your passage and begins to move at a brutal pace. You tease the sensitivity in his horns, flicking and circling them. The vibrations from his moans rock against your walls and your hips stutter. “Ah- I’m close” you plead. He stimulates your clit, and you pulse around him before your back arches, and you unwind. His mouth is stitched to you as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He continues to devour your climax. He hoists your lower half off the ground, savoring your honeyed desire, laughing from your overstimulated cries. You’re spasming and feel your heart racing in your ears. He stops at the approaching precipice and lays you down. Balmy kisses dot your knees. 
“Please Dan Heng, more” you beg. 
“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.” He's throbbing, and he straightens your legs to roll his hips between your thighs. The plush fat cuddles his cock and he pants. You grab his hand. 
“It’s okay, I’m yours. I know you don’t mean to hurt me.” 
“But-” 
“I love you” you blurt out. “Please, I want to have this with you. I can handle it, I promise.” Your vulnerability surprises you, and he stops. 
“You...love me?” he questions. For a split second, you see sadness and despair. No one stood to consider an exile incapable of love, but you did. No one bothered to defrost the drifting hollow, but you did. The undying weeps. 
“I love you. I would destroy every star and planet in your name. Carve your worth into the cosmos so that even Fuli could worship your memory. I am yours in its entirety, and I’ll only live for you.” You wipe the tears as they come down and kiss his troubles away. 
“I want you inside me” you whisper. He stands and scoops you up, his hands on your ass and your arms around his neck. He aligns his tip with your sex and lowers you into the plunge. The stretching blaze of your walls accommodating his girth is excruciating.  
“Is this okay?” 
“Yes.” You give him a reassuring smile. He’s stuffing you full, the spikes knead your inner walls the deeper he goes. He bottoms out and stays there for a while. 
“Tell me when to move” he soothes. 
“Go ahead.” He starts an unrelenting tempo, and you grip him like a vice, your arousal drenching his balls. The thundering sound of desperate huffs and squelching, smacking flesh is almost embarrassing; you both don’t care, indulging each other. You could’ve sworn you saw something similar to a dragon's tail swaying behind him, or maybe your mind played tricks on you. Strings of saliva connect his fangs, eyes cloudy with carnal impulse and cock twitching from the friction. He can see the bulge snapping in and out of your stomach and groans.  
“Deeper.” He pulls out and lays you on the futon before positioning you in a mating press. In one swoop he jackhammers your cunt, balls swinging and ragged breath on your ear. His hair blankets you and you soak in his sweating physique, his needy appearance. 
“Gonna breed this pretty pussy” he moans. Eyeing the unoccupied space on your neck, he salivates. You guide his lips to your neck, encouraging him, and he takes the bait. He ruptures the skin with sharp teeth; harsh puncture wounds remain. He licks the blood away, adamant on claiming you. The spikes massage your g-spot, and your eyes loll back, pleasure and pain blurring. Dan Heng loses his composure, frenetic thrusting as he chases his release. 
“I’m gonna come!” 
“That’s it, come with me, my love” he groans. You see black as tremors overtake you and a stream of squirt coats you both. Your wails flow into the halls. Your contracting vulva sends him over the edge, and he finally comes undone, painting your insides to the hilt. You milk every last drop of his gushing seed, and he jerks a few times until limp. The creamy, swelling base pushes your folds to capacity. It's barbed wire in your gut. He strokes and kisses your face. 
“I'm sorry, it’ll go down soon.” With your legs wrapped around him and his head snug against your cheek, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to go down. 
His curse may not be lifted through your embrace. But in your arms, his shackles don't feel as heavy. 
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angelcake10023 · 5 months ago
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Curious MK 💛 and the Man In The Red Scarf 🧣
This au is everything to me… be ready for me to not shut up about it.
If you want a little explanation on the au look under the cut
The au pretty much follows the beats of the movie with some twists to fit the world of LMK a bit better
Tang works at his College’s museum, doing tours on a lot of historical exhibits which heavily align with his special interests (lots of JTTW like stuff)
Pigsy is the local school teacher that takes his class to the museum every week- to learn obviously. Not cause he has a big crush on this pathetic museum nerd.
Anyway the museum is loosing interest and funding you know the gist, Tang somehow agrees to go on an expedition to flower fruit mountain to maybe find something worth putting on display. Probably something related to Sun Wukong
Tang is out of his element, but also this is his hyperfixation and he can tooootally find something of note surely. However what he doesn’t know is that a few certain spider henchmen in disguise have made their way onto his expedition crew and are hoping to find something powerful to bring back to their queen.
Once they get there they do a lot of fruitless searching, set up camp for the day, and an exhausted Tang is quickly ambushed by a newly awakened baby Monkey MK. He’s very curious about the bright color of Tang’s scarf and steals it when Tang takes it off to eat.
Tang has never seen or heard of this type of monkey on the mountain before, thinking he resembles Sun Wukong but thinking it ridiculous to think more of it. They play for a bit, Tang playfully wagering for his scarf back.
Anyway the expedition continues and they’re still unable to find anything and have to leave empty handed, (except for two pieces of a little monkey shaped rock.)
Mk ends up with Tang’s scarf as he’s leaving, deciding to secretly follow them back. Wholesome shenanigans ensue just like in the movie. Tang struggles being a dad to this monkey who’s attached himself to him, while also learning he might not really be normal monkey. Add in some Monkey power shenanigans hehe. Also some spider henchmen repeatedly trying and failing to capture Mk (comedically managing to also go unnoticed every time)
Of course in the climax, Tang is pretty worn down. He’s homeless, jobless, and a disappointment. He doesn’t think he can handle taking care of MK, and that’s when Sun Wukong shows up. He’s been keeping an eye on them and knows MK has mystic powers that are probably too much for a human to handle- so he’s willing to take him off Tang’s hands.
Tang reluctantly agrees, much to MK’s confusion and sadness. Trying to reach and grab onto him repeatedly as Tang holds back tears and begs Wukong to take him. Wukong does and Mk, who’s been struggling with any speech up to this point finally manages a soft and scratchy “no” just as Wukong’s cloud zips away with them both.
Tang immediately regrets it, his regret fueled after he talks with Pigsy. He made a mistake and he needs his kid back.
Unfortunately, The Spider Queen and co managed to ambush Wukong similar to the show and capture baby MK. Cue Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy teaming up to rescue the monkeys
Rescue ensues, Tang and Mk reunite wholesomely, Wukong is impressed by Tangs determination to save the kid despite his mortality. Wukong gives him some cool treasure junk that they can take back to the museum
The day is saved, Tang and MK are a family, and Tang finally got Pigsy’s flirting through his dense head lmaooooo
Dad Tang and Baby MK are so special to me… thank you for reading haha. Itll probably be fleshed out more in the future as well
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kyri45 · 5 months ago
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 12/09✨
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
@snsp6 I really hope that this won’t change MK’s view on his bio dads :( Anonimo Hello! Wanted to ask or more so I am wondering, will MK start seeing Wukong differently after finding out he literally killed Mac and even after seeing their past and how close they were, dam the trauma, anyhoo I love your art and the Shadowpeach bio parent au! Keep up the great work! >:D
Oh it will. (In a good way? a Bad? that's for me to know and for you to wait a week to know)
@hopefulbelievertimemachine Imagine if MK found someone who recently found out that they were a demon and he comforts them cuz he had a similar experience.
Oh that would be sooo wholesome!!! It's one of my fav trope when there's another character who go throught the same exact thing as another character and the two of them bond over this.
@zammy357 Hello, hope your day/night is going well. I wanted to ask since me and a friend like your bio parents blog and wanted to know if we can use it for an arc? Our blog is called @amnesia-wukong-au. We wanted to ask before we started doing it.
Hi!! Yeah sure as long you tag me and the masterpost of the shadowpeach au
Anonimo Wait what is a glamour (in context of Sun Wukong and Macaque)
A glamour is a magic spell that changes/cover your appearance. Like in the show macaque should technically have 6 ears. for animation purposi I guess they are not drawing all of them, but we say he uses a glamour also for covering his scarred eye.
@clueless-simp ha chiesto: What if PIF, BDK, Sun Wukong, and Macaque (and most definitely Mei) did a "parent trap" tactic to get MK and Red Son together? Setting things up, getting them alone together, pretending they are all busy, and the only option is for them to spend time together under the sunset XD XD XD
Oh no that would end bad. like-comically bad.
@honeylavender27 ha chiesto: Imagine red realizing mk doesn't know about court napping and just invites him over one day. Red son: so I'm sure your wondering why I invited you here.. Mk: yeah it's kinda weird you didn't want Mei to come. Is everything ok? Red: perfect actually, I'll explain everything just enter here first please. Mk: oh ok -walks into the prepared courtnapping room and gets locked in-.....uh red? Redson: consider yourself courtnapped...
Ahah poor MK. I think they would make a disastrous courtnapping that would be the equivalent of the phrase "task failed succesfully"
@artgurusauce ha chiesto: ARGGGHHHH, they're SO CUTE! I love your bioparent AU so much! Altho I am wondering: When MK turns back to normal would he retain some subconscious paternal attachment to our ol boys here? Maybe he even calls Macaque "Mom" without realizing it...
@blazerratbluefire-blog ha chiesto: Plot twist of the century for the oblivious monkey men. MK remembers ~everything~ when he was a cub! I'm not sure if that is what is planned, but! It would be really funny! Especially if he just calls Macaque 'Mama' all casual and just walks away. While Macaque EXP. has crashed and is rebooting. Gosh, that would be so cute! I absolutely love your artwork, by the way! It is so adorable!
Can't answer yet. He does NOT have memories, but he will remember ONE thing...
@daniellemarvel4 Hi, fist off I love your work and can't wait to see what you do next! I was wondering who is more protective of MK when it comes to Red Son? Whether that would be Pigsy, Wukong, Macaque, or even Tang (mabye Mei but I don't think she could stay serious long enough). Also, can we see what Sandy's doing?
mmmmmm---- I think Wukong. Freenoodle is pretty chill with the DBK family after everything that happened. Mac is also quite alright since he was always in good relationship with them. I would say Wukong would just want to be sure his kid doesn't get hurt by the fire in any way
Anonimo I've been squealing, grinning, and kicking my feet going through the Shadowpeach Bio parents AU. Baby MK has been SO CUTE and fun. I wonder if he's going to remember or be embarrassed about it. Another part of me hopes that river is still in play so Sun & Mac can fall in and suddenly MK and everyone has 2 chaotic super-powered Baby Monkeys to take care off 😭 😭 😭
Anonimo ha chiesto: I almost cried they are sooo cute. I hope that we get more sweet family content. Loving the comic thanks for making it 💕💕💕💕
Anonimo ha chiesto: I don’t want the cure to work ! Or could it be like that: MK is such a powerful being that the Dosis Pif gave them, just wasn’t strong enough. Instead it only aged MK up a bit so now he is a small kid or a teenager but not a grown ass money man again. I am not ready to leave the monkey family stuff behind 🥺
unfortunately the river has been close untile further notice. (dw this wont be the end)
@cutvdo ha chiesto: Mei bribing Red Son with baby MK pictures
@luciferapollyon ha chiesto: I hope Mei, Red Son, Macaque and Wukong all got pics before they turned MK back
Anonimo ha chiesto: DHJSJDJDH LIL BABY BEAN! I wonder if Wukong and Macaque took any pics of lil MK while he was smol baby? She would keep them and use them as blackmail. (affectionately)
Anonimo ha chiesto: Your shadowpeach bio parent au is just perfect!! Thankyou for feeding the fandom with the nectar of the gods!!! Especially the one where mac slips into the bed after wukong waits all night. Like Mac would wake up in the morning and see him fast asleep and think of Peng asking 'is there anything Wukong could do that would break his hold over you?' and just seeing him at his most vulnerable right now he's like 'no, not when he always gives me a reason to stay.'
MY HEART
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@queen-of-purple-roses Wait if MK is experiencing Macaque’s memories then does that mean that Macaque can experience MK’s? Are they able to dive into each other’s minds?
So the thing is that MK is hearing the past from both POVs. Macaque by definition can hear ANYTHING so yeah he could definitely experience MKs memories. But the thing is-does he want to? I headcanon that his future-present-past hearing abilities are something he only used a couple of times, and because what he heard from them was so traumatic, he decided to NOT use them again (like wukong laser eyes)
@sillygothpartykid ha chiesto: I know everyone is asking you to make the gay monkeys kiss but I actually like how you are developing their relationship. You letting them work through their problems and feeling first giving us that sweet, sweet slow burn! Love your art btw!❤️❤️❤️
awwww ty!!!! yes pls slow burn for life.
@kraytherandomchick ha chiesto: Hey, love your ShadowPeach AU! (Started rereading it after crying from the season 5 finale hehe :'D) But there's always something that's kinda stuck in my head, if MK's no longer immortal, would Macaque or Wukong get sad at the thought of getting older and forced keep going without him?
So- *sigh* technically, we don't really know MK immortality status. it's a grey area for now. Because on one side, he's a stone monkey, who, by nature like Wukong, can perfectly age and grow like a normal monkey. On the other hand, he's technically died already, and by the time he was created by Nuwa, both his biological fathers were already immortal (Wukong bc yes, Macaque because he's a demon, and he can die from wounds and illness, but can't age)
So to answer: we don't know yet what's with him. we will see (I promise that)
@lmk4ever ha chiesto: I LOVE THE SHADOW PEACH BIO PARENT AU SO MUCH!! Mk boi is so lucky to have a artist like you and fathers like them. I want to ask, will shadowpeach ever get into a fight out of anger in front of Mk? Or did they moved on from that phase?
If they will fight it will be more of like- the 2 dads grounding MK. If they need to fight they learned that they need to go on another mountain to do it so they don't bother their child
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we get a traffic light trio ship?
Probably not, but I'm all for dragonfruit/spicynoodle and having MK and Mei NOT dating each other at the same time.
@yuk1yun ha chiesto: If lmk season 6 isn't like your au, then I don't want to watch it
BRUH THAT'S THE NICEST THING I HEARD ALL WEEK
@conniescialla ha chiesto: HIIII!! ok scusa l'italiano ma letteralmente trovare artisti italiani ispira sempre quel momento patriottico alla YES ONE OF US MUAHHAHAH Scherzi a parte, il comic Shadowpeach bio parents Au è meraviglioso, si approva soprattutto l'hurt/comfort ;p
Tanti kudos!!<3
AAAAHHH CHE BELLO UN ALTR* ITALIAN*!!!!!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I really wanna see jelous wukong!!!!!! I dunno maybe some random demon trying to flirt with emo monkie or something and wukong is like oh hell no!! He is mine!! I think it would be so cute
he would become incredibly possessive and start hissing and growling like a tiger. NOBODY TOUCHES MY SOFT PILLOW
Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so cute if Wukong would take care of sick Macaque! It would show Macaque that Wukong changed and is no longer like he was before. I wonder if Macaque got sick, would MK help or would Macaque be too stubborn to let anyone know.
I know everyone says Wukong is this great sage with incredible abilities in every field (and he is) but I would like to imagine that, since he needs to do these thing for Macaque specifically, he's so stressed over the fact he needs to do them perfectly that he fucks up lmao.
Like, he would try his best to take care of him and almost burn the kitchen in the meantime, while Macaque was only hoping the two of them could just stay more in bed cuddling each other
Anonimo ha chiesto: im just imagining Mac getting anxious becouse he cannot find baby MK and Wukong is there to calm him down
@shadowpeachera ha chiesto: Heyy I absolutely love your shadowpeach bio au, the drawings, the text its perfect! Did Mk every run off or get into trouble now that he’s a cub or even play games with Wukong and Macaque like hide and seek? That would be really cute. I can imagine them playing hide and seek while Mk discovers he can make shadow portals, meanwhile his parents are stressing and scared as they have no idea where he is.
i think both of them would freak out.
WAIT I HAVE THE PIC I HAVE THE PIC
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I'VE BEEN SAVING THIS PIC SINCE 2017
@nyx-daughterofchaos98 ha chiesto: Hi! For LMK, I watched a nature documentary on Monkeys the other day and a lot of monkeys correct each others behavior by doing something called “Disciplinary Nips” or “Discipline Bites” (This isn’t a sexual ask I promise) I think it would be absolutely hilarious, if Macaque and Wukong are napping together, and for whatever reason, Wukong keeps moving around, unable to get comfortable. And in his sleep-riddled state, Macaque gets annoyed and bites him. 🤣 Like; I’M TRYING TO SLEEP! KNOCK IT OFF! 🤣🤣🤣 And when Wukong does stop moving, Macaque does actually fall asleep. Even better is if Macaque wakes up and has absolutely No Idea he bit Wukong because he was half asleep at the time. Or he thinks it was a dream and ensue the shenanigans when he realizes it wasn’t.
OMG THAT'S SO CUTE AND SILLY AAHHHH!!! EVEN BETTER: what if they do this without noticing BEFORE they are like-actually romantically back together, and someone sees the mark bites AND THEY START TO ASSUME CERTAIN THINGS BRUH.
@tabs-tabi-tabby  Can Macaque help with MK’s clones? Or would that be Wukong’s area?
MK can't make the same clones macaque has. He can control a little bit his own shadow, and use that as a clone. so as long as it's his own shadow, it's more Mac area, if it's his own hair clone then it's Wukong's
@startdustmonkie ha chiesto: Does Mk and or Wukong know about Savage and Rumble? (If so how did they find out about them?) — (also: do Savage and Rumble see Mama macaque as a parent?)
@mushrum-soup ha chiesto: Hi just wanted to say I absolutely adore your shadow peach au it's literally the highlight of my week 💖I was wondering tho are rumble and savage just shadow clones in your au or similar to their Lego counterparts :O?
Yes they know about them. No they aren't his kids let's say. My own personal headcanon for the Au (or the show in general) is that they are both Macaque shadow, like- clones with a little bit of personality just like MK clones represent specific parts of his personality. He has 2 of them because he lived 2 lives, one before and one after he was brought back to life.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Just read the latest Shadowpeach bio kid comic, and i cant help but giggle a bit at how MK’s chirp woke Wukong and Macaque up lmao just the “and they snoozing- OH SHIT BABY CHIRPING WHATS WRONG-“
HE IS BABYYYY
@hellobur ha chiesto: Did you base when mk was reaching fr macaque after he was walking away because mk called him mama after this or was it a funny coincidence (mk also doe the pose but I can't find it lol)
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Also I absolutely love this story and your art your work is incredible! ^^
Omg LMAO NO I DIDN’T BUT NOW IT’S 100% MORE FUNNY
@dragonaboni-blog ha chiesto: Hi! First off, I love your art and your Shadowpeach AU, it's the reason I'm reactivating my own Tumblr account lol One of my favorite tropes in this story is "A gets sick and B takes care of him" so I'm wondering… What would that trope be like in the AU? What would the monkey trio be like when they got sick? Do any of them sleep through their illness? Or are any of them extremely dramatic like "These will be my last words…"? CoughcoughWUKONGCoughcough
Aaahh I’ve seen a lot of asks asking this one but honestly I don t know If I’ll ever draw that trope. Maybe bc Wukong should technically have canonically too much knowledge about general illness to be worried about normal daily life illness. If it was something more life-threating. Maybe yes, but I still have to cook.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Counterpoint: wukong can't handle spicy foods because he has no impulse control and his monkee brain wants him to only eat fruit and peaches
Ouch. Yes that seems about accurate for him lmao
Anonimo ha chiesto: About the lmk bio au.... we have seen that MK can manipulate certain parts of his body in the 72 transformations... so..... Wukong and Macaque could technically have children.
I’ll be 100% honest I have no idea if stone monkeys are…fertile?
Anonimo Hey there! I am in love with your art. LMK is something that came into my life recently and damn I love it so much! Love your AU, and I can't wait to see more of it. Funnily, since the baby MK incident I imagine this later on becoming a somewhat spark of many funny arguments later on. What I mean is I see baby MK has a favorite parent (*cough-cough* MacCRACK *cough-cough*) [Sorry with the name joke, couldn't help myself]. XD. And I imagine Wukong be a bit jealous at times and go 'Anything you can do I can do better XD' Also see lovely Redson have a thing for MK, and then I imagine him ask his parents about advice on pursuing his crush. "So who is the lucky girl?" "Well, you already know him-" *Spits out water* "You got yourself a husband?" "What, no I haven't yet-!"
Aww I don't think MK would have a favourite but definitely there are times where he wants one parent more than the other (play time with Wukong, nap time with Mamacaque)
Anonimo ha chiesto: Yknow what they say… like father like son! In the sense that they’re all gay /j
Oh yeah absolutely it's genetic/j
@wolfasketch ha chiesto: Mac being on the sunny side and Wuwu being in the shadows
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I know I'm looking into it too much but- AHHH!!!
That was unintentional but HOLY SIT U R RIGHT
Anonimo ha chiesto: Poor Red Boy never got to see baby MK! Imagine him just staring at the adorableness that is baby MK and being like 'I hope our future children look just like you OH MY GODS YOU'RE ADORABLE'. Baby MK: :3
Their child will literally be Kai from Ninjago so I guess THEY ARE RIGHT HE WILL BE
Anonimo ha chiesto: And then MK will wake up back to normal, confused, but proud that he managed to get them even closer?
100% yes
@drowning-in-webnovel-chapters ha chiesto: I can't imagine how the monkey dads are gonna try to go back to sleep after that, oof. Also Wukong definitely knows all that from when he used to help Macaque through visions, right?
Yup! He does indeed!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I’m guessing MK is getting a mini version of Macaque’s “can hear the past/present/future” thingy, did he managed to hear it accidentally or was he trying to learn more about his powers/Shadowpeach’s past ?
Yes, he was just wondering since last time that he found the sleeping cuddling with him, what exactly happened for them to rift away. Guess curiosity killed the cat
@aurabooboo ha chiesto: So. I'm rewatching season 5, right? I noticed that they almost had a yelling match with MK right in the middle. Would Wukong apologize to him for that?
These 3 have so much to talk about… i wont draw everything, but they definitely apologised offscreen.
@elianaroselight ha chiesto: It is quite telling how Wukong immediately knew what to do to help calm MK, but also, Macaque coming in with the perspective of having gone through it himself. The need for them to remain close by and wait until Mk is asleep before trying to leave. This means Mac has been through exactly what he is telling them not to do and knows the pain, sorrow and trauma that comes from feeling abandoned like this. They may be facing their past hurting their own kid through proxy and try to help him fight against the trauma. Luckily they have good people to help when they themselves can't. *looks at Freenoodles*
Yup! Their response is exactly related to what they do to calm the other!
@thenerdycupcake ha chiesto: So, does MK’s gold vision combine with his hearing sometimes so that he sees some of what he’s hearing from the past?
Oooohhh i guess he does! So he can literally see and hear the past!
@frogsfandoms ha chiesto: Omg why can I see after MK wakes up he thinks that it isn’t the past he’s hearing and that it actually just happened. Rushing to see if Wukong and Macaque are hurt and or trying to stop them from fighting 😭😭😭
Oohhh our baby still doesn’t want to believe it actually happened :(
Anonimo ha chiesto: Adult MK: OH MY GOD A SPIDER *desperate scared monkey noises* Baby MK: what's this? A 5 starts meal? *Tries to chomp said spider* He's gonna be sooo disgusted when someone tells him he tried to eat one fkdkdlfmfl
Oh poor MK. He’ll be teased about this for the rest of his days.
@sailera ha chiesto: Hello I have question about you Shadowpeach bio dads au- How would Pigsy react that his only employee turned to a baby? And hadn’t answered his phone in few days? Also love your art!! And your ISAT comic got me again interested in playing Sky ✨
Mk only became a baby for like- 20 hours. Mei told him that he stayed at FFM because he was ‘tired after training’. As of now Pigsy didn!t found out
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That's all for this week! Thank you a lot for all the asks!
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libraryofglitter · 8 days ago
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Moomin enjoyers could get so much more out of the stories if everyone stopped cutesy-fying them so much. This is something I have a strong opinion on. Everyone seems to focus on "aw fluffy little nice creatures" and "Moomin and Snufkin are in love" which YES they are. Obviously. All of that is true.
But the original Moomin stories are undeniably dark. They're often about being sad and depressed and so, so lonely, about looking for a home, about never feeling fully understood, about growing up and having flawed parents. About never being fully able to understand some people. Moominpappa at Sea, the whole Groke situation, Moominland Midwinter, the last few Moomin books in general. The Hattifattener's whole deal. Their world is full of sad and strange things. It's just also about seeing the fun and feeling love in a world like that.
I think the average Tumblr user would love the Moomins even more if everyone stopped pretending that they're Disney-type creatures, and instead embrace the incredible Finland-Swedish weirdness. Tumblr I know you love weird stuff! Get into the strange side of the Moomins!
Also Tove Jansson would be on my side here. She was so annoyed by the Moomins getting commercialised and twisted by everyone. I enjoy a pretty Arabia Moomin mug as much as the next person. I love the wholesomeness of these stories, too, and I don't want to tell you how to enjoy these books. Keep a place in your heart for the darkness in these stories, is what I'm saying. You might love them even more if you do that.
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signanothername · 2 months ago
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If someone had found baby corrupted nightmare and taken him in, raised him, like, say for example, blue, how differently do you think everything would have ended up?
(*COUGH COUGH* totally not just pushing my dad swap agenda nope nuh uh *COUGH*)
i just imagine nightmare sneaking into his room at night to curl up near his bed like a dog, and IMMEDIATELY skedaddling when he senses him wake up.
This poor kid is freshly dead (alive? Born?) he is in Desperate need of comfort 💀 but it's not like he's gonna ask for it outright.
And i horrendously need someone to hold him and give him warm food and new clothes and toys to play with and blankets and tuck him in at night and Hold Him and feed him medicine when he's sick and read hin bedtime stories and rock him to sleep and give him a comfort plushie or blanket or item of sorts and HOLD HIM and-
ahem, so anyway, what do you think? How differently do you think he would've ended up? Cuz i think it'd be a lot different if nightmare was shown care by someone for once and comforted by someone who wasn't a fellow traumatized six year old.
And, yknow, was an adult who knew what they were doing and didn't hate him for no reason 💀
Ooooh :D
Yeah I definitely think he would’ve grown up a much different person, cause he wouldn’t have relied on himself to survive, he wouldn’t experience the constant fear of the many ways he could get hurt or die
He definitely wouldn’t have starved on negativity cause he didn’t know how to balance it anymore
And if he was actually raised by a loving parent that’s actually present in his life to guide him through it enough to find a healthy outlet for the horrors he experienced, as well as help him with his emotional, mental, and physical health a lot better, his life would be a lot easier
I think he still would be a lot more grumpy and a bit aggressive than he was before the corruption, and the Apple incident would still have a great impact on his psyche, he’d still hold a bit of fear inside, but that fear won’t end up guiding all his actions, and it definitely wouldn’t lead to him becoming power hungry, doing whatever he deems necessary to obtain it
Hell, even with how the corruption twists his happiness from something pure to finding joy in the misery of others, I still think with a loving parent raising him, he will find healthy outlets to his emotions, whatever they may be
I think he might eventually tell his parent figure about what happened with him, with his mother, with his twin, maybe even Dream would find himself in a lot better circumstances when he awakens from stone, finding a brother patiently awaiting him, finding himself waking up in warm welcoming arms, I definitely think it’ll contribute to the twins’ relationship being a lot better, a lot healthier
Their trauma would still put a few wrenches in their journey, but it definitely wouldn’t go so sour and bitter, Nightmare would be a lot more open towards Dream’s love and affection, hatred won’t taint his heart and cause their relationship to go so wrong
Generally, I definitely think it’ll be a lot more fluffy and slice of life-ish, which is super wholesome to think about
Now as for Blue specifically being the father figure, only two words, FUCK YES.
But I feel like, as a very traumatized lil child who doesn’t know any better, who had adults hate, hurt and even try to kill him, Nightmare would simply not trust Swap, not immediately
So it’d be really fun to see Nightmare actually warm up to Swap first way before he takes Nightmare in to raise and take care of him, it’d be fun to see what Swap might do to gain Nightmare’s trust enough for Nightmare to even let him within 10 meters without running away immediately or attacking him
May I also present some suggestions for another parental figure that could be really fun to explore? Color, I’d love to see him take care of a little newly corrupted Nightmare dhhdhdhd
Anyway *cough* this is such an adorable possible multiverse *cough*
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dreaisgrayte · 7 months ago
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Hello there, I hope your day is going well. I have a nsfw oneshot request for Mitsuri from KNY if that’s okay. (Preferably female reader)
HEAR ME OUT. Okay so I’ve seen a lot of fanfiction where Mitsuri is a bottom, but I can’t get Soft Dom Mitsuri out of my head- like you know she’s gonna be worshipping the readers body and praising her throughout everything and AHHHH I just know the aftercare is heavenly. (and also let’s just say strap-ons exist in her universe)
*ahem* Anyways, take as much time as you want on this and have a wonderful day mate!
ABSOLUTELY, AMEN, AHHHHHHHHHH (was screaming the whole time I wrote this) Soft Dom Mitsuri lives rent-free in my head. I want to live in this story >:( Why can't I ever get izakied into a story????? DAMN IT Sorry, this took a little longer than I had intended, I was working then a bunch of things happened to where my pregnant cat had three beautiful kittens which I've been co-parenting (since she's a stray and they're outside...which I so badly want to take them inside and cuddle them so nothing happens) Also! The next anime convention I attend, I will be cosplaying Mitsuri! So I'm BEYOND excited about that!! Thank you, annon!!!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, face sitting, strap-on, Mitsuri has a thing for fucking reader with her new toy, body worship, cowgirl, Mitsuri is skilled ;) , wholesome aftercare
Word Count: 3.3k
A Secret Technique | Mitsuri Kanroji x fem!reader
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As always, Mitsuri Kanroji was grinning ear to ear, the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink. She was captivating, a distraction to the trick you were trying to show her. Ever since you’d met the love Hashira her flexibility had always vexed you. Her ability to twist and contort mid-air was admirable, to say the least. “Is this what you were so excited to show me?” She inquires, walking around your attempt at doing the splits. She hums, a giggle bubbling out when you wince as she pushes on your ankle. “You’re super close YN! We can practice together if you want?” She pops up in front of you, hands clasped together with that fucking adorable excited smile she always wore. 
You tilt your head, closing your legs to wrap them into a sitting position. “Uh, sure.” A stupid smile tugs your lips upward as she squeals, sitting down gracefully in front of you. 
She spreads her legs easily to each side of her hips, her green socks pulling down on her thighs. You gulp as your gaze revels in the plush pink of her skin. Thank the gods her black skirt dips down to cover in between her legs or you’d have a hard time listening to anything else except your heartbeat. “Open your legs,” Mitsuri starts. You choke out a laugh, looking up expecting to see her playful expression, instead, you’re met with a more hungry emotion crossing her face. You do as you’re told, pushing them apart and watching with tensed breath as Mitsuri scoots closer to you. 
She delicately touches the muscle of your upper outer thigh. You gasp as her hand travels down the length of your leg and she makes steady eye contact with you. Goosebumps are erupting down your body as if your flushed cheeks weren’t enough of an indicator of how you were truly feeling. “You know YN,” She lets her gaze drop to where her fingers are tantalizingly traversing their way back up your leg. “I find that using a secret technique helps out immensely when it comes to stretching out.” Mitsuri professes, her electric green eyes flickering up to meet yours. 
A secret technique? You’d been friends with the love Hashira for a while now and she’d never once mentioned a secret technique to you. Here you were, thinking that there were no secrets between you two. Obviously, you were too blinded by how blissful every moment spent with her felt. “Oh, don’t feel pressured to tell me if it’s such a secret or something I wouldn’t want to-”
“YN,” Mitsuri’s gentle hands grab your face, mushing your cheeks to get you to stop talking. “You’re so cute when you start overthinking, but I’m going to need your express consent for what comes next.” The way she’s gazing into your eyes nearly makes your body go numb. How could one person be so perfect? 
She lets go of your face, placing her hands back on your thighs, this time with a little more command of where she grabs. You glance down, worried she might feel how erratic your pulse is through your skin. Between your thighs was a vortex of neediness, pleading with your brain to be fucked by the woman in front of you. Every time she got near your cunt, things got a little complicated inside your body. Hopefully, this secret technique would require you to climb a mountain far away from your growing desire. “I trust you Mitsuri, you can do anything you want.” 
Her lips twitch in a grin, but before you have any time to wonder why in the hell she was bracing your feet against hers, she pulls your thighs against hers – and swiftly kisses your lips. You groan at the burning sensation of your body feeling like it’s being torn apart, but as you lick your lips you can taste the sweet honey Mitsuri had eaten earlier. Somehow, it’s even sweeter than when you shared in the delicacy. Your fingertips brush against the tender skin of your lips, a stuttering breath blowing out of your mouth. “Do you understand what I mean now?” She inquires, letting your legs return to a less painful stretch. You gulp, blinking up to meet her gaze. 
You feel hazy, your skin is burning – but in the best way possible. “Not really, but I’d like to do more of that,” You putter out, swinging yourself into a kneeling position. Mitsuri giggles, doing the same, walking over to you on her knees. She smiles gently grabbing your hands.
Her uniform leaves little to the imagination and you are looking… disrespectfully. Have you always felt this draw toward Mitsuri? You’d assumed it was the desire to be her friend – and while that’s been enjoyable – you can’t help but wonder if you had an underlying motive for getting so close to her. “You do understand the secret technique is…sex, right?” Your eyes widen as you jerk your head to take in the expression on her face – completely serious. Whatever your motives were, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was pressing your lips into hers, so that’s what you do. Her fingers card through your hair, humming in delight as your hand finds her chest, tracing the curve of her cleavage. 
Your heart is beating like crazy as your chest swells with something akin to excitement. To think this was how you were spending your day. Kissing Mitsuri was like praying to a shrine and the gods blessing you with eternal riches and splendor. The way her plush lips formed against yours, trailing kisses down your cheek and neck, surely this is the paradise sought after. 
Mitsuri seemingly knew all the sensitive parts of your body – you weren’t sure if this was because you were both women, but as a Hashira Mitsuri knew the inner workings of how the body reacts. She was damn good at putting that knowledge into practice. Her mouth works against yours, lips slightly parting allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth. The kiss was passionate, Mitsuri guiding you all the way onto your back. You’re both panting as she hovers above you. “Have you ever been with a woman before?” She inquires, looping her leg over your waist. She now sits on top of you and fuck was it a view. Her cheeks are red, her hair messy in parts, her chest heaving, and her warmth was spreading all over your body. 
There was a time when you had a mission in the entertainment district and having haven in one of the tea houses, you were alone with a gaggle of courtesans who were happy enough to show you how fun it could be to share intimacy with the same sex. One of them spoke of having a certain tool able to render men practically obsolete if you were into that sort of thing. You did think some men could be the absolute worst, but being evil wasn’t in their core, that much you could tell. The world can twist and confine anyone into becoming something they’re not. Just like demons, not all of them asked to be that way, yet the corps eradicated all demonic creatures. Needless to say, the company of men would not be forgotten by you, but if the only person you ever laid with again was Mitsuri – you’d be fine with that. “Yes, more than one.” Mitsuri’s eyes widen, then her face slowly curls into a grin. 
She places the palm of her hand flush against your chest. “Then you won’t have a problem,” She moves up your body, lifting her skirt up. Your breath catches when you realize her pussy was on you this whole time. Your gaze flits up to meet hers. “Stick your tongue out, darling. I’m going to test just how much you know.” She fluffs her skirt out over your head, hovering above your mouth with her bare cunt. Her thighs muffle any sounds from the outside world but amplify your beating pulse. Gods this was going to kill you – but what a way to go. 
Your tongue laps at her folds, enjoying the way you can feel her shiver above you. Her arousal was heady but a sweet tanginess floods into your mouth. Of course Mitsuri Kanroji had a delicious pussy. Your hands wrap around her thighs, locking her into position as you taste her again and again. You lift your skull off the ground to suck on her puffy clit, swirling your tongue around it with precision. Her thighs shake and then she’s pushing your head back down by sitting on your face. You happily make work of her clit, using the flat of your tongue to glide through her slick folds. Your face is soaking, a mixture of drool, sweat, and arousal coating your skin. The sounds you can hear are the sucking and slurping of a job well done for Mitsuri lets out a cry loud enough for you to hear. Her fingers are suddenly intertwined in your hair, pulling on the strands. A shiver runs through you as you smack your mouth against her pink pussy. Her muscles tense and she shutters, shaking as she cums all over your face. 
Mitsuri swings her leg over your face, a delightful moan rumbling from her chest. “I only wish you could’ve seen what a perfect job you did. You should’ve warned me about how good you are at eating pussy,” She presses the heel of her hand into her forehead as she laughs. You join in, sitting up to get a better look at her. 
She’s blushing, but the main difference you take note of is how her uniform is pulled open, revealing her perfect breasts. It sends a spike of want through your chest. She notices you gawking and squeaks. She shyly turns her back. “What are you doing? I want to see.” You reach out to grab her shoulder but she tosses a glare at you instead. 
You’re shocked. What happened? Gods, did you mess up somehow? You’re about to ask her what’s going on when she turns around, an adorable pout present on her face this time. “It’s not fair YN, you’ve gotten to see all of me and I haven’t seen more of your, frankly, gorgeously perfect body.” She twiddles her fingers together, nervously looking into your eyes. You can’t help but grin widely and Mitsuri slaps your shoulder. 
“You can’t be serious, you’re the one perfect thing in this world.” You exclaim, watching as she shakes her head.
“Well, that’s fine because your body is like a goddess’. In fact…” She drags a hand down your body, stopping at the hem of your skirt. “I think it’s about time I reward you for doing such a good job.” You bashfully watch her unbuckle your belt and pull it out of the loops slowly enough to drive you mad. She tosses it to the side with a smirk, pulling your skirt down your thighs. Her eyes meet yours. “Sit down,” She instructs, pushing at your chest until you’re in a laying position yet again. Your skirt is yanked off the rest of the way and there’s a long beat of silence. You lift your head to peek at Mitsuri who is gazing down at you lovingly. “YN, you’re so beautiful, may I?” She nods to the apex of your thighs, a giddiness in her voice. You nod and she wastes no time in spreading your knees apart. “You’re so wet already.” She giggles, reaching out to stroke some of your arousal that had accumulated from eating this gorgeous woman’s pussy. You hiss as her fingers dip into you, spreading the slick around until she slips inside your entrance – smiling the whole time. “Your pussy is such a pretty color YN, you’re doing such a good job for me.” She praises, sending a wave of a gooey feeling through you. 
Mitsuri braces herself on your knee, which is bent upward, as she works her fingers inside of you. Her gaze switches between observing your reaction to her hooking her fingers or swiping at a sensitive spot, to watching her fingers get eaten up by your greedy cunt. It made her thighs clench together watching how well you took her fingers. You were perfect and Mitsuri couldn’t think of anyone better to experiment with her new toy than you. 
Your hands are clenched, jerking your hips upward onto her fingers. She chuckles lowly, taking in how cute you were when you were desperately chasing your climax. She uses her free hand to rub your clit in small circles, edging you closer to orgasm. Mitsuri was curious how you would look and how you’d sound after she made you cum. You were certainly moaning up a storm as you bucked against her. You whimper and then groan as she works your clit directly. “That’s it, my pretty girl, you can cum now.” Her fingers are pumping in and out, overstimulating you as you careen off your crest of pleasure. Your throat is scratchy as you scream out, trembling against her gentle, yet relentless,  touch. The world is full of bright colors – a brilliant spectrum of satisfaction. 
As you try to catch your breath Mitsuri enjoys watching your body still shudder in waves of your previous orgasm. “YN…” She plays with a strand of your hair, curling it around her fingers with an absentminded expression. Your attention is on her – as if you could focus on anything else. “A little while ago I had to go to the swordsmith village and while I was there I got talking with a special smith. She has a shop that creates amazing things and I’d like to share with you what I bought there,” Her eyes gleam with an excited glitter. 
You raise a brow, sitting up from the floor. “I’d love that.” You exclaim, following Mitsuri into a standing position. She grabs your hand and leads you through the halls of her manor until she stops in front of what you remember to be her bedroom door. Your thighs are sticky and as you walk into the room Mitsuri rummages through a cupboard. You peer at her room, but you don’t have much time to admire how it’s decorated because Mitsuri drops her skirt and removes the rest of her clothing. Your pussy throbs with desire watching her muscular yet curvy body move around the room. 
She gathers what looks like a belt in her hand. “YN, my sweet, I’m going to need you to undress and get on your knees.” She chirps, fastening the belt around her thighs and waist. You hesitate for a moment, then scurry to follow her orders. Once you’re on your knees she turns around with lust-filled eyes. Your eyes travel down her body, stopping briefly to hungrily gaze at her tits, but something catches your attention. 
Attached to the belt she had latched around herself is a long pink phallic-shaped apparatus. Your lips part, your heart ramming against your ribcage as you look back into Mitsuri’s eyes.  “Well? Open your mouth, sweetheart.” You do as you are told, the image of Mitsuri with a cock causing you to reach down in between your thighs. You play with your sensitive and puffy clit, moaning as Mitsuri hits the cock against your face. “Mmm, you’re so pretty YN, so pretty and perfect for me. You make me so horny.” Then she places the tip against your lips, groaning softly as the head pushes into your mouth. “Gods, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” She moves her cock in your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “That's it, choke on my cock,” She huffs, throwing her head back. Spit dribbles down your chin as the surprisingly soft cock rubs against the corners of your mouth. You abuse your clit, hungry for a crest. This was so hot, you would never forget this in all of your life. 
Mitsuri takes note of how you play with your clit while sucking on her length. Her mouth twitches up in a grin. “Ah, hungry for more?” She pops the tip out of your mouth and rests the wet toy against your cheek as you pant, dazed eyes pleading with her. “Lay on the bed with your gorgeous pussy in the air.” 
On your back, legs hooked around Mitsuri’s arms, she pushes her cock inside of you after spitting on your pussy. Your eyes roll back as she thrusts into you, cooing about how you’re so good, so perfect, you’re doing so well. You ball the sheets in your fists, moans gasping out of your throat. “Ah, ngh, please m’gonna, oohngh,” Your tits are bouncing up and down, Mitsuri can’t look away. Hearing your noises of pleasure and seeing how you squirm under her, it was all so perfect. 
She wanted to see you on top of her, cum all over her cock. “One second baby,” With how strong Mitsuri is she’s able to pick you up, fucking you still, then flips herself to be laying on the bed. She gasps as your weight settles on her, riding her like a good girl. “Fuck,” She hisses, digging her nails into your thighs, you play with your tits as you bounce on her cock. 
Your nipples are bruises, a splendor of painful pleasure radiating through your body. “Feels s’good,” You hum, but Mitsuri hasn’t had enough yet. She presses the pad of her thumb against your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. 
“Does it? You’re taking it so well,” She coos, excitedly watching you shudder in ecstasy from her musings on your clit. “Good girl,”
Her words send shocks of electricity coursing your veins like your very blood. “Gods, Mitsuri, m’gonna,” You plant your palms on her stomach, slapping your ass against her thighs. You hang your head while panting crazily. As Mitsuri stimulates your clit and pussy the cool magma washes over you as you jerk her cock deep inside of you. You cum hard all over her, laying down against her chest, breath rapid. 
She’s breathing hard too, but she pets your head, kissing your forehead. “You’re so perfect YN,” You giggle against her skin, lifting your head to look her in the eyes. 
She smiles sweetly back, pressing her forehead against yours. “What a secret technique,” Mitsuri blushes and laughs as she looks away. 
“Yeah, not my best pick-up line.” You shake your head and nuzzle against her again. 
“I thought it was great.” You mumble. Mitsuri shifts out from under you, sliding her cock out of you as she does. You pout with the empty sensation. 
She stands up and smiles down at you. “I’ll be right back.” Mitsuri returns a couple of minutes later with a steamed towel and a plate full of honey butter toast. She sets the plate next to you and lifts your leg to clean your thighs and slick cunt. You moan lightly at the warm sensation and her eyes darken for a second. “Careful you whore,” She slaps your ass with a playful grin. You hum, shoving toast into your mouth with careless hunger. Mitsuri tosses the towel to the floor, sitting down gently next to you. “Maybe next time I can teach you-”
“Another secret technique?” You interrupt, a few crumbs of toast spitting out of your mouth. She chuckles, wiping away the slight mess on your mouth with her thumb. 
Mitsuri brings her finger to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste the honey. “Mhm,” She gazes at you like you’re the sweet treat. 
You grin, kicking your feet in the air. “Yes please,” 
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cyanide-e-pistachio · 2 months ago
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Shuake Fics from 2024 that Give Bonafide ✨SHUAKE CLASSICS ENERGY✨🙏🏻
I've been seeing the frankly untrue sentiment that there are "no good Shuake fics out there right now". The purpose of this post is to not only provide evidence against that sentiment, but uplift fics from this year that, in my opinion, are just as good as any of the Shuake classic fics we might find at the top of AO3.
DISCLAIMER: I have not read every shuake fic in 2024, nor did I suggest fics that are currently ongoing (with one exception). If you feel like I missed a Bonafide Shuake Classic(tm) from this year, FEEL FREE to rb with your suggestion!!! This is all about uplifting the wonderful authors in the shuake community who deserve more love!!!!! xoxo
Rebellious Birds by @sixteen-juniper
A post-canon fic where Akiren and Akechi explore a new and deadly Mementos, and an encounter gone wrong forces the tension between them to the surface. I have always loved this author's writing style. Their prose and technique is 10/10.
crowded rooms and highways i call home by sailboating
Rahhhhhh I just finished this one so it is extremely on my mind but holy shit!!! What a classic!!! A early 2000s Band AU in which Akiren and Akechi discover their ship tag on Livejournal. Full of fun LJ references and callbacks to the fandom scene of the time. It was such a fun ride with incredibly engaging prose from the author.
true blue by campanellaes
Listen man, campanellaes is one of those authors where every work of theirs is gonna be a banger. True blue is no different. A very unique post-canon story where Akiren and Akechi are in the Shadow Ops together and we watch as their relationship slowly develops. If you're looking for a sweet yet hilariously chaotic shuake dynamic this is the one for you.
finger twist & split by nexxis
Oh my god NEXXIS is on a roll this year and this is not the last time you'll see this author on the list. Essentially Akiren jokingly mentions to Akechi that he'll finger him and Akechi devolves into gay panic for 6,000+ words. It's so incredibly delightful, hot, and full of fun introspection that I just adore.
Closed For Renovation by @chaoticconstellation
My god, what a wholesome fic AAHHHHH ok ok so basically it's a found family fic in which Sojiro and Akechi scheme with his friends to renovate Akiren's attic bedroom. It's incredibly sweet and just downright adorable at times. Definitely the Feel Good Fic of the Year(tm) for me.
A first spring with you by @manibarilo
A post-canon reunion longfic that just OOZES Shuake Classic energy. Five years after P5R, Akiren and Akechi reunite after Akechi is released from prison. Lots of fluff, wholesomeness, and healing ensue.
we apologize for our streamer by sailboating
This author is truly the master at writing engaging Shuake fics. A Twitch streamer AU in which a glitch streamer Akiren finds a chess streamer with zero viewers and simps. Hard lol. A great ride from start to finish, and despite being 35,000+ words it feels like it ends too quickly!
sweetness by nexxis
Another banger from nexxis. An ABO fic in which Akiren accidentally discovers Akechi is an omega. I just love the way their dynamic is written here, and it's also incredibly :fire: :fire: :fire:
But Live Another Day by @tomiokajen
This is the one exception to the completed fic rule because I've beta'ed it lol. However I think it deserves to be on this list as, much like a first spring, it oozes Shuake classic energy. A post-canon reunion fic that explores Akechi as a wildcard. The way Akechi is characterized in this fic is masterclass, and truly shows that the author has a very good understanding of him. I also love the OC links in this fic. Has classic energy through and though and I can't recommend it enough.
Old Habits Die Loved by @malevolentmango
Technically written in 2023 but I read it in 2024. I love fics where Akiren is in need and Akechi has to step up to help him, and this one does that in spades. An established relationship fic in which Akechi has to do some Scooby-doo style detective work to figure out what's been going on with Akiren. Lots of delicious hurt/comfort involved.
Valerie by bisexualbluesargent
Listen guys I KNOW this was technically posted in 2023 but this was literally posted A DAY before January 1st 2024 so I'll give it to them. A protagonist Palace Fic AU that SCREAMS classic Shuake Fic energy. Honestly I won't say much more than that because half the fun of this fic is piecing together the story, so please give it a read!
Alright, that's all I have for now! Again, if I missed anything please feel free to contribute! Have a lovely day! 💚
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demonking-propaganda · 4 months ago
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13 spoiler-free reasons why you should read Mairimashita! Iruma-kun
...if you haven't done so already 👀 (With "spoiler-free" I mean I'm not describing plot points or characters, but under the cut I'll discuss the overarching themes, so be warned if that's too much for you. The first 7 reasons may be enough lol)
It's both funny AND wholesome. I literally can't read it without laughing out loud, and there are a bunch of chapters that make me cry every time I read them.
It's clever! The Japanese version contains several puns based on the kanji "魔" (read "ma", = devil, demon), starting from the title, but it's a recurring pun. The English translation adapts them pretty well. Plus, there are some of the best plot twists in recorded history (IMO). And the names and characteristics of most characters are based on real-life demonology.
It's queer AF. Like, really gay. There are explicitly homoromantic relationships and several nonbinary and gender non-conforming characters. One of these is the best unashamedly nonbinary character ever written. Plus, the manga premise can be seen as an allegory of hiding in the closet. The only thing that made me uncomfortable because of cisnormativity (boys in drag as a joke) is completely fixed in later chapters, and very well so.
It's feminist, without being preachy or paternalistic. Simply put, the women/girls are three-dimensional, complex characters, as the norm should be. And there are lots of them, without it being a harem (...the harem trope is actually used as a joke).
It's spooky and adorable, imagine Halloween vibes all year round. Both main and background characters are super diverse, and if you like monsters there is stuff for you.
Most characters are neurodivergent-coded. It's basically the autistic/ADHD manga.
The art is phenomenal. It's especially good to see the improvement of the art style over the years (the first chapter was published in 2017 and the manga is ongoing). Some panels are really breathtaking.
8. The story is about personal growth - like most shounen manga, fair enough. But the protagonist, Iruma, is so far from toxic masculinity I dare say he's the antidote to it.
9. It's also about found family, the discovery of unconditional love, and trust, and healing from familial trauma.
10. It's about finding a group of friends you belong to, and transforming your weirdness into a strength, identifying and cultivating what you're good at instead of fitting into a mold.
11. It's about the beauty of learning in your own way, and the importance of education and the shaping of future generations.
12. And the reason why I opened this blog: it's about fascism and fighting against it. I mean real fascism, as in "a powerful individual/group wants society to be hierarchical and oppress certain minorities, elevating a specific subset of the population based on intrinsic characteristics which are being misleadingly treated as merits". Ethno-nationalistic stuff. More specifically, it's about being a somewhat politically illiterate person, who learns about systems of oppression beyond personal injustices. It's about questioning what is the best way to arrange society.
13. Most importantly, this manga gives you hope about the future, something I find harder and harder to have. Hopelessness is dangerous - as people without hope stop fighting. This manga makes me actively feel better. Since it's ongoing I can't ensure it will always remain that way, but I've come to trust the author enough that I expect it to.
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delulustateofmind · 8 days ago
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Terms and Conditions Apply
Yan!SatoSugu x Reader - unwholesome edition
Sum: Normal college roommate activities, except your roommates, are madly in love with you and have a really weird way of showing it.
TW: Yandere Behaviors (manipulation, obsessive, possessive,etc), Omorashi/Piss, noncon/dubcon, oral (m! receiving), Abuse of showerhead, Reader is a bit dense, Power Dynamics, Alcohol consumption, unhealthy relationships, Infantilization, MDNI
WC: 6.0k
A/n: I will probably finish editing the wholesome edition later this week. :) I feel like I've been too angsty lately and I lowkey prefer the wholesome version a bit more, however, my beta reader likes this one so we'll see!
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How far is one willing to go?
Willing to sell their soul to the devil—or in this case, devils. The ones you once called your best friends. The ones who stripped you of your rights because you owed them. Because they owned you.
Suguru and Satoru—two trust fund kids with more money than they could ever spend—had waltzed into your life during your freshman year of college, offering friendship cloaked in charm and generosity.
They’d given you a place to stay, sliding a 52-page lease across the table. A document so thick and dense that it had made your stomach turn. Your heart, your instincts, your very soul screamed at you to stop. To read between the lines. But you didn’t.
You trusted them. You ignored the red flags.
You brushed off the subtle proclamations of love buried in their actions, their words, their very presence. How they’d spoke of living up to your standards. How they hinted they’d have truly courted you—if only you’d given them the time of day.
But you didn’t. You dismissed their flirting as harmless.
And like any rich men who refused to be denied, they did the next best thing. They bought you.
You really should’ve let them court you.
Because if you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here now—trapped in their twisted acts of devotion. Acts they called love.
Satoru, with his dazzling grin and sharp blue eyes, always joked about wanting a dog. Something to take care of, to love him unconditionally, to always come when called.
Suguru, ever composed and calculating, never hid his desire for control. He wanted something—or someone—to care for, to command, to obey his every word.
And now, that someone was you.
You’d gone too far for free rent, hadn’t you?
It was almost funny, in a cruel way. You’d joked once about selling feet pics to creepy old men to make ends meet, and Satoru had flashed you that sharp, wolfish grin and asked, “How much?”
You’d laughed it off, calling him ridiculous. But he hadn’t been joking. Not even a little.
If you had said a number, he would have bought them on the spot, saving them for later use. 
When you couldn’t afford drinks on karaoke night, you’d waved it off, saying you’d be fine with water. But Suguru had just smiled, handing over his black card without hesitation.
“Don’t worry about it,” he’d said, his voice smooth, almost tender.
The whole night, he had coddled you, his arm a steady weight around your waist as you sang along to the music. When you were tipsy and laughing, stumbling into him, he’d pulled you onto his lap, his hands lingering just a little too long.
You didn’t notice.
You didn’t notice how his hands trailed along your thighs, how he tilted his head closer to catch the scent of your perfume, how his dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous.
They loved you.
They loved you so much that buying you was the easiest option.
Kidnapping you would have been messy, after all.
This? This was clean.
A lease. A signature. A series of favors and debts that quietly piled up until you were ensnared—unable to leave or even think about leaving.
You thought of them as just weird, quirky roommates. That’s what you kept telling yourself.
Satoru had the habit of barging into your room unannounced, sprawling across your bed like it was his own. He’d hug your pillows to his chest, burying his face in them, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.
And behind your back?
He punched and slapped every single one of your stuffed animals.
All except for the ones he bought you.
Like the stuffed alligator he’d gifted you last month. “Because you’re so snappy,” he’d said with a wide grin, teasing you endlessly as he mimicked your glare. “And because you do those little alligator rolls when I try to cuddle you.”
He wasn’t lying. You did twist and squirm to escape his grip whenever Suguru was away, and Satoru found himself “too lonely” to sleep in a big bed all by himself.
“I need you,” he’d whine, tugging at your blanket as he wedged himself onto your mattress. “Friends can cuddle, y’know. It’s even in the lease—clause 22!”
You’d scoffed, rolling your eyes. “There’s no way that’s real.”
But, of course, you hadn’t read the lease.
You hadn’t read clause 22, clause 34, or any other fine print buried in those 52 pages.
If you had, maybe you’d have noticed the way they’d written their love into the lines of the contract. The way their obsession had been framed as something so mundane, so harmless, that you never thought to question it.
Instead, you dismissed it. Dismissed them.
They were just your weird, clingy roommates, right?
That’s what you told yourself every time Satoru squeezed the stuffed alligator to his chest, grinning as he teased, “See? It’s like me and you! You’re the snappy little gator, and I’m the big, lovable guy keeping you from biting anyone else.”
It was playful. Harmless, you managed to convince yourself.
But sometimes—especially in the dead of night, when the world was quiet, and there was nowhere to hide from the truth—you struggled to ignore the way his hands would wander.
How he’d press open-mouthed kisses against your chest, the wet heat of his lips leaving trails along your skin. The way his hands would squeeze your plush breasts, fingers digging in just a little too roughly, as if claiming them, claiming you, in his sleep.
You told yourself he was dreaming—lost in some haze where he thought you were someone else, or something else.
But when morning came, and you hesitantly brought it up, he’d blink at you with feigned innocence, his blue eyes wide and unbothered. “Did I really?” he’d ask, laughter bubbling just beneath the surface of his words. “Man, I must’ve been dreaming about something really good.”
His grin would widen, that devil-may-care attitude making you question if you’d imagined it all.
“Hey,” he’d say, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he steered you out the door, “let’s grab breakfast. My treat. Consider it a ‘thanks’ for not ripping my arm off in my sleep.”
The offer, so casually given, left you with no choice but to follow. To let him guide you down the street to the café he liked, where he’d order for you without asking—a gesture that felt less thoughtful and more… presumptive.
As he filled the table with plates of food you hadn’t asked for, his laughter echoing through the small, bustling space, you found yourself playing along. Smiling at his jokes, laughing when he wanted you to, pretending that everything was normal.
Because what else could you do?
Confronting him felt impossible. Denying him? Even more so.
It was easier this way—going along with the current, letting him pull you wherever he wanted, feeding you bites of his food like you were some cherished pet rather than a person with agency of your own.
“Open up,” he’d coo, holding a forkful of syrup-drenched pancake to your lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction when you complied. “Good girl.”
And you’d swallow it down, the sweetness coating your tongue as his praise sent a shiver crawling along your skin.
Because it was easier to pretend.
Easier to act like this was just how things were—how they’d always been.
But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, the question lingered, heavy and unavoidable:
How far were you willing to go?
You kept telling yourself to endure. Just two more years until you graduate. Two more years, and you’ll be free.
You could play along until then. You had to. You needed the cheap rent.
And it wasn’t like you could even prefer one of them over the other. They were equally clingy, equally overbearing in their own ways.
Suguru, at least, had the decency not to invade your space outright.
He never barged into your room unannounced like Satoru. He didn’t sprawl across your bed or bury his face in your pillows. No, Suguru was different. His methods were quieter, subtler.
Whenever Satoru left for the weekend to visit his family, it was Suguru who kept you company. He’d coax you onto the couch with him, his deep voice laced with calm reassurance.
“You’ll keep me company, won’t you?” he’d ask, his tone so soft, so genuine, that refusing felt impossible.
And before you knew it, you’d find yourself in his lap, his strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist as he leaned back, settling you against his chest.
“It soothes me,” he’d murmur, his voice low and almost apologetic. “I’ve been so stressed with my master’s lately. You don’t mind, do you?”
How could you say no?
Suguru always had a way of making his needs sound so reasonable, so innocent. You didn’t even think to question it—not until his hands started to linger. His thumbs would trace small, deliberate circles against your hips, his breath warm against the back of your neck.
Clause 12.
That’s what he’d called it the first time you hesitated.
“Roommate will always provide emotional comfort,” he’d said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his dark eyes held yours.
You hadn’t read the lease, of course. But when Suguru spoke, his voice so calm and assured, it was hard not to believe him.
So you let him hold you.
You let him keep you there for hours, his hands warm and steady as they rested on your waist, his quiet hums vibrating against your back. You sat frozen, unsure of where the line had blurred—or if there had ever been a line at all.
Things changed after one night.
You’d gone out for drinks with some friends—a rare occurrence these days. Between their constant presence and your dwindling social circle, opportunities like this had become few and far between.
Maybe that’s why you drank more than you should have.
The alcohol buzzed warmly through your veins, leaving your mind foggy and your limbs loose as laughter spilled freely from your lips. You didn’t even notice how late it had gotten until someone pointed it out, and the world tilted slightly as you tried to check the time on your phone.
“Shit,” you mumbled, your voice slurred as you stared at the blurry screen. You scrolled to Satoru’s contact—he always answered first—and hit call.
When they arrived, it was like the entire bar shifted.
“Oh my God, those are your roommates?” one of your friends teased, dragging out the words as she nudged you with a playful grin. “You’ve been holding out on us! Are you playing games or something?”
A giggle bubbled out of you as you swayed in your seat, the room spinning slightly. “Nooo,” you slurred, shaking your head a little too hard. “They’re just—”
Before you could finish, Satoru’s tall frame appeared in front of you, crouching down to your level. “Having fun, huh?” he asked, his bright blue eyes glinting with something unreadable.
You buried your face in his shirt, giggling uncontrollably. “Satoruuu,” you slurred, your voice high-pitched and childlike. “I’m fineeee. I was just… just hanging out!”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, chuckling as he shifted you in his arms, holding you upright as your legs wobbled.
Meanwhile, Suguru quietly slipped away to the bar, his expression calm and collected as he handed over his black card to settle your tab. When he returned, his eyes gleamed with something dark, though his lips curved into a faint smile as he glanced at your friends.
“Ah, sorry we haven’t announced we’re dating yet,” he said smoothly, his voice low, a grin playing at his lips.
The table erupted into laughter and cheers, glasses clinking together in celebration.
You blinked slowly, your alcohol-heavy mind struggling to process his words. “Wait… what?”
You tried to straighten up, but Satoru’s grip on you tightened, pulling you back against him. “Shh, don’t make a scene,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, though the edge to his grin made your stomach twist.
“He’s joking,” you said, slurring as you waved a hand lazily. “You’re jokinnng, right, Suguru?”
But Suguru’s smile didn’t falter. He leaned closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he said softly, “Does it sound like I’m joking?”
Your friends erupted into louder laughter, their voices blurring together as your head spun.
“Let’s get you home,” Satoru said brightly, steering you toward the door.
You were too drunk to argue, your body slumping against his as the cool night air hit your face.
“You didn’t have to say that,” you mumbled, your words barely coherent as Suguru helped you into the car.
“Say what?” he asked, sliding in beside you, his voice calm and measured.
“That… we’re dating,” you slurred, your head lolling against Satoru’s shoulder as he climbed in on your other side.
Satoru laughed, his hand ruffling your hair as he pulled you closer. “Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal. Besides, they loved it. Right, Suguru?”
Suguru’s hand brushed lightly against your knee, steady and deliberate. His dark eyes met yours in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Does it bother you?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tender.
You tried to answer, your lips parting, but your mind was too foggy, your tongue too heavy. The alcohol clouded your thoughts, dulling the sharp edges of your confusion and concern. The only sound you managed was a quiet, slurred mumble before sleep tugged at your consciousness.
When you woke up, the world felt too soft, too still.
Your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of early morning filtering through unfamiliar curtains. The silk sheets beneath you were far too luxurious, the plush mattress beneath your body a stark contrast to your usual bed.
You sat up slowly, a pounding headache hammering at your skull as the events of the night before came back to you in blurry flashes. The bar. Your friends. Satoru. Suguru.
And now this.
Waking up in their bed was unexpected.
You winced as the urge to pee hit you, the discomfort pulling you fully awake. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your bare feet brushing against the cool floor as you prepared to stand. But before you could rise, a hand shot out, gripping your wrist.
The sudden tug sent you back onto the mattress, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see who it was.
Satoru.
His snowy white hair was messy, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep as he pulled you closer to him, his grip firm but not painful.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled, his voice groggy yet tinged with something along the lines of annoyance.
“I… I need to pee,” you stammered, your voice hoarse as you tried to free yourself from his grasp.
Satoru’s eyes opened fully then, his bright blue gaze locking onto yours. He looked at you for a long moment before his lips curved into a sleepy grin. “Mmm, can’t you wait a little longer? It’s too early to get up.”
The warmth of his body pressed against yours, heavy and unmoving, trapping you in place. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he were anchoring you there.
“I’m serious…” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to squirm away, but his grip didn’t loosen.
Instead, you felt his grin against the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice soft and drowsy but carrying that familiar edge of control. “You’ll wake up Sugu… You can wait.”
The mention of Suguru made you freeze, your eyes darting toward the other side of the bed.
Sure enough, there he was.
Suguru lay on his side, his face calm and serene in sleep, his dark hair spilling over the pillow. His breathing was deep and even, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic.
“You don’t want to wake him, do you?” Satoru hummed, his voice low and teasing, though there was something almost mocking in the way he said it.
You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling heavily over you as Satoru’s arms remained firmly around your waist. He shifted slightly, nuzzling into the back of your neck like a contented cat.
“Just relax,” he murmured, his voice already trailing off as sleep pulled him back under.
You lay there, stiff and silent, the dull ache in your bladder forgotten as your mind raced.
The warmth of their bodies on either side of you, the sound of their steady breathing, the oppressive weight of Satoru’s arm around your waist—it was suffocating.
But you didn’t move.
You couldn’t.
Because somewhere deep down, beneath the haze of confusion and discomfort, a single, chilling thought crept into your mind:
They weren’t going to let you go.
And for now, it was easier to stay still. To let Satoru’s grip keep you in place, to let Suguru’s presence loom quietly beside you.
To endure.
Because what other choice did you have?
You waited an hour. Generously. The way your bladder felt like it was going to spill if you even moved an inch made it agonizing, but what else could you do?
Why did I have to drink so much? you thought bitterly, biting your lip to keep yourself from groaning.
“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, tinged with a small, desperate whine.
No response.
His soft snores filled the room, and you felt the faintest flutter of hope when you realized his arm had gone slack around your waist. It was loose enough—just enough—that you might be able to slip free without waking him.
Carefully, you began to move, inch by inch.
You winced at the painful, overfull feeling in your bladder, a burning reminder that if you waited even a second longer, you were sure you’d humiliate yourself. The thought of staining such expensive, silken sheets filled you with dread.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to wriggle out of Satoru’s grip. He stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into his slumber.
You held your breath as you slid off the bed, crossing your legs tightly as you stood. The sensation made you want to scream, but you forced yourself to stay quiet, moving as carefully as you could across the room.
You reached the bathroom door, relief flooding through you as your hand grasped the handle.
But when you turned it, the handle didn’t budge.
It was locked.
Your stomach dropped, a cold wave of panic washing over you as you tried again, jiggling the handle more forcefully this time.
Still locked.
You glanced over your shoulder, your heart pounding as you looked back at the bed. Satoru hadn’t moved, his snores still soft and steady. Suguru remained motionless, his dark hair spilling over his pillow like ink.
You turned back to the door, biting your lip hard enough to sting. Why the hell was it locked?
You tried again, pressing your weight against the door this time, but it wouldn’t give.
Panic began to rise in your chest as you crossed your legs tighter, your body screaming at you for relief. You couldn’t go back to the bed—not now, not like this. You couldn’t face them if something went wrong.
Your bathroom was… across the apartment.
You could make it, right? You just had to waddle your way there.
The thought alone filled you with dread, but what choice did you have? The idea of pissing yourself in your weird roommates’ bedroom—on their luxurious, expensive sheets, no less—was enough to make your face burn with humiliation.
A soft, desperate whine escaped your throat as you shifted your weight. It’s too much.
But you had to try.
You moved carefully, every step a torturous mix of sharp, burning pressure and overwhelming panic. Your breaths came shallow and uneven, your legs trembling as you shuffled forward, praying the noise wouldn’t carry back to the bedroom.
It was just the hallway, the living room, and then the bathroom.
Easy, you told yourself, though the pounding of your heart and the sting of tears in your eyes screamed otherwise.
You barely made it to the end of the hallway before your legs gave out, your body sinking to the cold floor as a sob built in your throat.
Tears brimmed in your eyes, the humiliation of the situation crashing over you like a wave. You couldn’t stop them, hot streaks rolling down your cheeks as you clutched at your stomach, the pressure unbearable.
Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t the door just unlock? Why couldn’t you have made it just a little farther?
You pressed your forehead against your knees, trying to muffle the soft, broken whimpers escaping your lips. The silence of the apartment felt suffocating, every sound you made echoing in your ears like a cruel reminder of just how trapped you were.
And then, the sound you dreaded most.
Footsteps.
Slow, deliberate, heavy against the hardwood floors.
You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the footsteps grew louder, closer.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Suguru’s voice was soft, calm, almost soothing, but it made your stomach twist into knots.
You didn’t lift your head, your body trembling as his presence loomed over you. You could feel his gaze, heavy like he could see straight through you.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with you. His tone was steady, almost kind, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.
“I… I just…” Your voice cracked, the words stumbling over themselves as you tried to think of an excuse, something that wouldn’t make this worse.
Suguru tilted his head, his dark hair falling over his shoulder as his sharp eyes scanned you. “You could’ve just woken me up if you needed something,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.
Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.
“She’s crying.”
You flinched at the familiar, teasing lilt of Satoru’s voice, your heart sinking further as you felt him approach.
“Aw, did we scare her?” he teased, his grin audible in his voice as he crouched beside Suguru, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.
“It’s not that,” Suguru murmured, his gaze never leaving you. “She’s upset.”
“Hmm,” Satoru hummed, leaning in closer, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with something that made your chest tighten. “Why’s that, little gator? What’s got you all worked up, huh?”
You wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and vanish entirely. Anything to escape their piercing stares, the weight of their presence pressing down on you like a cage.
But then, you felt it.
The warmth spreading beneath you, dampening the hardwood floor.
Your breath caught in your throat as the realization struck you like a tidal wave. You’d pissed yourself.
Silent tears trickled down your cheeks, shame and humiliation crashing over you in waves as you dared a glance at Suguru.
His dark eyes flicked down to the wet patch spreading across the floor.
And then he smiled.
Not his usual small, measured smile, but something broader. Something that sent a wave of goosebumps.
Satoru followed Suguru’s gaze, his brows lifting in surprise before his grin widened into something almost predatory. “Well, would you look at that,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing but laced with something darker.
Suguru tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes meeting yours as he spoke.
“Clause 52,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady, like he was reciting something he’d known by heart.
Your stomach knotted further, anxiety pooling. You really should have took time to read the absurdly long lease.
“‘If a roommate is deemed unfit to take care of themselves, it becomes the other parties’ duty to assume full care of the roommate, gaining full autonomy over the party deemed unfit.’”
The words were a death knell, ringing in your ears as your tears fell faster.
“Unfit,” Satoru repeated, his tone dripping with mockery as he leaned closer, his hand gentle as it brushed a tear from your cheek. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think, Suguru?”
Suguru’s smile didn’t falter, his dark eyes steady as his hand came to rest on your trembling shoulder. “It’s not harsh if it’s true,” he replied softly, his voice almost tender, but the weight of his words crushed any chance of denial. “She clearly needs us.”
“I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to push away the rising panic. You clung to the last shreds of your dignity, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe your tears. “It was an accident. I just—”
“You just proved you can’t take care of yourself,” Suguru interrupted, his grip tightening slightly, his words cutting through your feeble attempts at an excuse.
Satoru chuckled, leaning against you, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. “You know,” he started, his tone almost conversational, “we could have enacted Clause 52 sooner.”
Your breath hitched, your eyes darting to him as he tilted his head, his grin widening.
“I mean, your grades this semester? Not exactly stellar.” He chuckled, shaking his head as if scolding a child. “And let’s not forget that blunt you took from Shoko a few months back. You do know weed is very illegal in Japan, right?”
The blood drained from your face as he spoke, your mind scrambling to keep up with his words.
“Could’ve gone to jail,” Suguru added, his voice calm and matter-of-fact as he straightened, his hand leaving your shoulder only to slide under your legs.
You yelped as he scooped you up effortlessly, your body trembling as you tried to claw away from him, your hands weakly pushing against his chest.
“But a grown woman pissing herself?” Satoru said, standing and shaking his head as he followed Suguru toward the bathroom. “Now that’s a pretty clear sign you need help. I mean, we’d be neglecting you if we didn’t take care of you at this point.”
“Put me down!” you cried, your voice breaking as you struggled against Suguru’s hold, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Shh,” Suguru murmured, his grip unyielding as he carried you down the hall. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.
Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.
“We’ll clean you up,” Satoru said brightly, his grin firmly in place as he swung the bathroom door open. His tone was light and teasing, but the words twisted in your stomach. “That’s what good boyfriends—sorry, roommates—do, right?”
Suguru carried you inside without hesitation, his movements smooth and calculated, like he’d done this a hundred times in his head. He set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your arms as though steadying you. The care in his touch felt unnervingly intimate, blurring lines you hadn’t even realized were being crossed.
“I don’t need—” you started, your voice trembling, but Suguru cut you off.
“Do we need to treat you like a child too?” He hummed as he turned on the water, you noticed Satoru take a spot on the floor, his hand….gravitating to….
You forced yourself to look away. 
Instead pleading to Suguru that you can wash yourself, that he doesn’t need to climb into the tub with you pressing himself behind you. As he grabbed the handheld shower head, changing the settings as he deemed fit as you squirmed and sobbed. 
“Have to clean you now, hm?” He hummed behind you, changing the setting of the handheld shower head to the highest setting, the pressure was too much as you squirmed and clawed at his hands shaking your head. You looked over at Satoru the smile on his face, the way he seemed blissed out as he stroked his…
Oh god. 
They enjoyed this. 
You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as your cunt clenched onto nothing, as your clit was being tormented by the harsh pressure of the showerhead Suguru had directed. 
“Shhhh, just let go… I got you,” Suguru murmured, his voice low and soothing as he adjusted the spray of water once more, there was purpose in his insistent touches, firm and absolute.
You couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body, your tears mixing with the water cascading over your skin. Your mind felt like it was spinning, your thoughts fragmented and overwhelmed by the unbearable mix of sensations and emotions crashing over you.
And then, you reached the peak—your body betraying you, shuddering in his grip as your climax washed over you. Shame burned hot in your chest, your face flushed with humiliation as the sobs came harder, raw and broken.
Suguru’s hand never faltered, his movements steady as he lowered the setting on the showerhead to a gentle spray, hushing you softly as you came down from your high.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his tone almost tender as his hand smoothed over your damp skin. “Just let me take care of you.”
You couldn’t muster the strength to respond, your body trembling as exhaustion began to creep in.
But he wasn’t done.
Before you could catch your breath, Suguru adjusted the water pressure again, the sharp sensation snapping you back into focus as he began once more.
“No, please…” you whimpered, your voice weak and cracking as you squirmed in his hold.
“Shhh,” he hushed you, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as his grip tightened. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”
You didn’t have the strength to fight him.
Again and again, he pushed you over the edge, your sobs gradually giving way to soft, broken whimpers as your body betrayed you. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind clouded with a haze of exhaustion and humiliation.
By the time he finally relented, your eyes were half-lidded, sleep tugging at the edges of your consciousness.
Satoru, who had been watching the entire time, stood from his spot on the floor, his sharp blue eyes raking over your limp form with a grin that made your stomach twist.
“Since Suguru did a good job cleaning you up, think you can clean my mess?” Satoru’s voice was light, teasing, but the sharp glint in his blue eyes told you there was no room for refusal.
Your head weakly shook in response, your body trembling with exhaustion as you tried to avert your gaze.
But Suguru didn’t let you.
“Be a good girl,” he murmured, his voice calm but firm as his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back toward them. His thumb pressed against your lips, prying them open with gentle insistence.
You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes again as his thumb slipped onto your tongue, the weight of his touch heavy and suffocating.
“There you go,” he said softly, almost soothing as though this was something to comfort you. “It’s easier if you don’t fight.”
Before you could protest, Satoru was pressing the tip of his cock onto your tongue, sliding his length down your throat despite your gags as Suguru ensured you wouldn’t bite down, keeping your mouth open.
“Good girl,” Satoru cooed, his voice low and saccharine as he watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward as you instinctively flinched. “Be a good little gator, don’t bite”
You couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that trickled down your cheeks, your body frozen under the weight of their attention. Every movement felt heavy, every breath labored as you struggled to take the full length down your throat.
Suguru’s dark eyes bore into you, steady and unyielding. “See? You can do this,” he murmured, removing his thumb to help guide your head as you sucked on Satoru’s cock. “You’re already doing so well.”
“Better than I thought she would,” Satoru replied, a soft groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, gently rocking his hips forward despite your tears, Suguru was forcing your head to bob on Satoru's length, keeping his touch gentle.
“We’re going to take such good care of you,” Suguru hummed, his voice smooth and steady as his hand’s methodical movements, his dark eyes gazing at you in adornment as you choked on the sticky white ropes that trickled down your throat. 
His words made your stomach twist, but the calmness in his tone—the way it almost sounded affectionate—made it all the more suffocating.
“I think we can work with this arrangement, right?” Suguru murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. His tone was calm, almost soothing, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.
“We love you so much, don’t you know?” he continued, his voice softening further, as if the depth of their love for you was as much a burden for them as it was for you. “We’ll give you time to adjust to the new arrangement. Don’t you worry.”
You flinched, your body trembling from a cocktail of exhaustion and humiliation. The words wrapped around you like a cage, their gentleness only making the weight of them heavier. Your eyes darted toward Satoru, searching desperately for some sign of relief, some thread of normalcy—but his expression only made your stomach twist.
His smile was lovesick, almost dazed, his half-lidded eyes clouded with fatigue, likely from his final exam. Yet his fingers found their way to the top of your head, the touch soft and deliberate, giving you a gentle, almost affectionate pat.
The gesture should have been comforting. It should have eased the tightness in your chest. Instead, it felt like a reminder—a quiet assertion of control, of just how tightly you were bound to them.
“Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?” Satoru said, his voice light and teasing, laced with his usual carefree charm. But beneath the playful tone, there was an undertone of finality, a quiet edge that made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.
Suguru’s hands were steady as he adjusted the towel around your body, his touch disarmingly gentle, as though he were savoring the act of caring for you. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were worshipping the process of drying you off. He ensured the towel wrapped around you modestly, yet his fingers lingered just long enough to make you question if there was more to his care.
When he stood, his tall frame towering over you, he extended a hand. His dark eyes met yours, calm and unreadable, as if silently urging you to trust him.
You hesitated. Every instinct screamed at you to pull away, to run, to do something. But the exhaustion weighed you down, rooting you in place. Your legs felt like lead, your thoughts foggy and scattered, a tangle of fear and resignation you couldn’t untangle.
“You’re tired,” Suguru murmured, his voice a soothing balm that did little to ease the tightness in your chest. There was an undercurrent of quiet authority in his tone, one that made resistance feel futile.
His hand enveloped yours, warm and steady, guiding you to your feet before you could summon the strength to protest. “Let us take care of you,” he said softly, the words carrying a tenderness that felt at odds with the unease curling in your stomach.
Satoru was already waiting by the door, leaning casually against the frame. His bright blue eyes watched you with his signature grin—a grin that normally felt harmless but now carried an edge that made your chest tighten. “Come on, little gator,” he cooed, beckoning you with a casual wave. “We’ve got everything ready for you.”
You let them guide you, too drained to resist. Suguru’s hand rested lightly on your lower back, steadying you as Satoru walked ahead, his playful hum filling the quiet hall.
When you finally crawled into the cool sheets, your body sagged into the mattress, the weight of the day pressing down on you. The bath had left your skin warm and your limbs heavy, the overstimulation making it impossible to think straight. Exhaustion was a tide, pulling you under, and for a fleeting moment, you were grateful for the comfort they had so carefully orchestrated.
Perhaps you were too far gone to notice—or to care—about the faint noises behind you. The soft murmur of voices, the rustle of fabric, the low, intimate sound of Satoru’s moan as he lowered himself onto Suguru.
Your mind barely registered it, the sound blurring into the background as sleep took hold. You ignored the quiet gasp, the rhythmic creak of the mattress in the other room, and the muted groan that followed.
The warmth of the blankets, the scent of lavender, the haze of exhaustion—all of it conspired to drag you deeper into unconsciousness, letting the world fade away as your body surrendered to sleep.
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inacteveny · 1 month ago
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Ranting about Millie's pregnancy
The whole "justify the cheating because they're gay" critique is debatable, since it's not exactly confirmed if the ex-boyfriend did cheat. But the "Millie getting pregnant because Vivienne doesn't know what to do her character" critique is pretty valid.
The so-called hints throughout the season that supposedly show that Millie could be pregnant can just be easily interpreted as "Millie just being Millie", it's just her nature to be THAT mad, or THAT wholesome, or whatever. Not in any way shape or form was there any foreshadowing of this twist.
Not only is it such a lazy twist because of the lack of foreshadowing beforehand (please prove me wrong if there actually is), it also shows that Vivienne doesn't understand what made Ghostfuckers such a good episode for Millie.
Brandon Rogers while writing that episode knew that he didn't need to pull such a lazy narrative decision for one of the most underused main characters in the show just so critics could shut the fuck up. No, instead he understood that what Millie simply needed more screentime. Easy peezy lemon squeezy, just flesh out her character, show us her backstory a little bit, make sure she serves an important part of the episode and isn't just "Moxxie's wife." all the time, that she is really one of the most important people in Blitzo's life.
Brandon knew all he needed to do for Millie in that episode was make her matter, simple. Vivienne doesn't understand that. She'd rather make one of the laziest and overused plot twists to the most underused main protagonist in the show just so us critics can shut the fuck up about Millie being done dirty all season, but that's exactly what Vivienne did anyway because of this.
No foreshadowing whatsoever. Lack of understanding of why Ghostfuckers was such a good episode for both the stars Blitz, Millie and I.M.P as a whole. Lazy as Garfield ahh twist for the most underused main protagonist in the entire show. Overall, boring, disappointing, lazy, and maybe even annoying. It's clear Vivienne pulled this out of her ass just to wrap a weak bandage around the wasted potential of Millie this season.
I might watch one or two episodes of Season 3, but I have zero faith in it being good, because Lord have mercy on Vivienne handling this lazyass plot point well.
Thanks for reading my rant on why I don't like what Vivienne did to one of my favorite characters in this dumb show. This is J levels of being done dirty, but hey, at least Liam Vickers is a much better writer than Viv anyway.
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