#whew! that's a lot

[monsoon-of-art]

Say, what kind of fish are the Megamer, and how do their abilities work?

Also, I'm guessing that their names are just "Ice" "Guts" "Time" etc. Are they names they chose for themselves because they liked it, or is it short for the scientific names Light gave their species?

So I'll put it under a readmore, and I must shoutout out a buddy on discord (shy, wishes to remain anonymous) who came up with about half of these ideas

I want to mention that because they're actually biological creatures, I've jumbled the timeline a bit; Dr Light had the Robot Masters first as puppies, then Blues, then Rock and Roll (I have not thought up the MM9 yet, only up to MM2 and some of the Archie Comic/Megamix Manga)

Time is a Jellyfish, Oil is a Blanket Octopus, Cut is a Lionfish, Guts is a Dunkleosteus, Ice is a Harp Seal, Bomb is a Porcupine Fish, Fire is a Firefish Goby, and Elec is an Electric Ray. Rock and Roll are both very young Koi fish, and I'm unsure if Blues is also a Koi fish, or if he's a Guppy.

(And while we're here, for the 2nds, Metal is a Sandtiger Shark, Air is a Basking Shark, Bubble is a Sea Turtle, Quick is a Sailfish, Crash is a Pistol Shrimp, Flash is a Flashlight Fish, Heat is a Nautilus, and Wood is a Shipworm.)

At first, Dr Light referred to them as numbers (in the order he found them in, so in this, Time is actually 001 and not Rock), but as they grew older, he gave them nicknames, and the nicknames stuck. Dr Light/Wily are not good with names lmao.

I tried to keep their abilities as close as I can to their original counterparts; Ice can shoot ice, Elec can make electricity, Guts is very strong, etc etc. Not all of them wanted to play nicely with me, but I did what I could. Example: Cut doesn't have his scissors, but he can pluck out one or two of his spines and throw them (very sharp very durable spines).

Rock's special ability is the ability to copy others, lmao. Anyone (or sometimes, objects) he touches, he can copy their abilities and subtly change his colors (Blues can do something very similar, but can't copy the colors as well). Roll currently doesn't have any powers, but I did consider healing?

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[anotherlikeyou]

Ah shit, here we go again

[honeyhobbs]

Revisiting a wyll sketch I started a year ago ‼️ hunger of hadar my beloved

[polarolds]

son of a binky bonky!

bonus:

[cometshift]

happy spawnday subspace(s)

[almondcroissantsandink]

Swimmin' in the floods, dancing on the clouds below / I ain't worried 'bout it

[amaranthdahlia]

shout out to mothers whos children grow to be twice their size lol

[beevean]

this small exchange manages to both convey the characters' personalities to a T and acts as a microcosm of the crushing setting of the story

sometimes, writing is good

[a2006love]

if you think of giving up: told in a short story.

"park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me" but it's not about your loved ones in your dr. it's not about shifting. it's not even about an alternate version of life. it's about you. yes, you. the one here and now. the one with the awareness.

it's about the dreams you've left behind, the quiet betrayals, the tiny funerals you didn't even realize you were attending. you tell yourself you don’t need them. you tell yourself you've grown up. that was then, and now it's different. you think about the way you once held them so close, entertaining them all day till you succumb to sleep, and you pretend the memory doesn't make something inside you coil with longing—but then, just as you're lost in those thoughts, you're pulled back into reality. where you're standing at a fair, and a child comes up to you and tugs at your sleeve.

"do you know where my mom is?"

you turn, and there's a little kid, red-eyed, breath hitching in their chest. their face is messy with tears, and their tiny hands are trembling. you kneel, instinctively, lowering to their level, and you soften your voice, in an attempt to make them feel safe.

"you're okay, i'll help you, we'll find her, i promise."

but they only cry harder. their words come out in a way that's impossible to untangle. they're just a kid after all, panic swallows them whole and they can't explain what's going on, where they lost her, what exactly happened that made them lose her, and to top it all off they don't even have the words for it, they only know what it feels like, the way fear spreads itself in their chest, the way the world suddenly seems too big and too loud and too much.

and you—you have no idea what to do. you don't know how to fix this. you don't know the kid, at least, not really. the situation seems bigger than either of you, but you do know that you won't leave them here, that you will take their hand and hold it tight, that you will put them on your shoulders and search through every inch of this place until you find their mom.

except—they stop crying. and they lift their head to look at you, really look at you, with something in their expression, something you can't quite understand, like they know something, and that makes your stomach drop before they even open their mouth.

"you left me here."

the words don't make sense. they confuse you and ring in your head like a thousand church bells, and then the sound disappears. everything else is still moving, the ferris wheel is still spinning, the rainbow lights are still flashing, the music is still playing—but you don't hear any of it anymore.

"what?" you whisper, but you already know the answer.

they squeeze your hand tighter, like they're afraid once they repeat themselves you'll let go and leave again. their lips are shaking, and their voice is much more quieter now, but it cuts through you like a sharp and sudden scream.

"you left me here."

and suddenly, you remember. you remember the way you used to dream. the way you swore you'd never let go of the things that made your heart feel so big, the way you promised yourself you wouldn't become this—this version of you that makes these sensible choices, that trades joy for survival and tells themselves it's just what 'growing up' means, and it's just 'the way life is.'

the kid is still looking at you, waiting for you to say something, do something, anything. and in that moment, you realize—it's not just any kid standing in front of you. it's you. the part of you that you've buried, the part that's still waiting for answers, for someone to care enough. that kid is the version of you you left behind, the one you've been avoiding all this time.

go help them. don't look at me or anyone else. go help them. they asked you. not me, not anybody around. they saw you in this suffocating crowd and felt the safest with you, so they approached you, they wouldn't choose anyone else in this world.

either you take them by the hand, or they're going to keep following you around, pulling at your sleeve, each time harder than the last, sobbing so loudly it bangs in your eardrums, waking you up in the middle of the night with questions you're too tired to answer.

and i want you to think of your choice to ignore them as saying "i promise we'll find her" and then leading them into the fair, distracting them by pointing out other kids playing and shouting "hey! this looks fun!", buying them cotton candy, hoping it'll make them forget about the ache in their chest.

and maybe, for a while, it works. maybe they smile, maybe they even laugh, maybe you convince yourself that they've forgotten what they were crying about.

but the knot is still in their throat. the tears haven't dried. the softness of their mother's hands still lingers on their cheeks. and it won't ever leave.

they'll pretend to forget, but you won't. they'll let go of your hand, but you'll still feel the tightness of their grip, years later, in your happiest moments, in every mirror, in dreams where you catch a glimpse of them just before you wake up to face reality.

and you'll always come back to them. so choose, now, to do something about it, and that choice better be to help them find their mom. (home.)

[s0dabeach]

i feel like someone already did this for squid game but whatever. silly messily made squid game ship meme thing

[mailb0xbunii]

okay i might've gotten carried away with making minimes ....... they're just so fun to make ....

my hc for the minimes btw

[princeysage]

o lawd they dancing part 3 !!

tiktok's been lovin these so we're back for round 3!!!

this has been very fun to do so far :D i will be doing more but i am going on holidays for a bit and wont have my tablet so no more dancing lifesteal and/or finished pieces for the next six days :( but ill have my sketchbook and ive got a bunch of doodle requests from my tiktok so expect a buncha those !! ty again for the love on these <3

as always, closeups under the cut !!

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 28 — KINKTOBER ‘23

DUMBIFICATION & BREEDING WITH TOJI FUSHIGURO

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, daddy kink, tummy bulging (squint), mating press, size kink, choking, toji is not a poor bum

the first time you’d had sex with toji was sweet and sensual. he treated you with care, tender touches pressed to your skin as if you’d crack if he pressed too hard. your small form underneath his big one strengthened his want to care for you, fill you up with his cock—but only after he’d eaten you out, filled you up with fingers enough to make you cum into his mouth two times. consideration, that he showed to no other who crossed paths with him, came naturally when you'd touched his sheets

and he loved how much smaller you were than him. how, never in your life, had you been with a man as big as toji. whether that be the broadness of his shoulders that shadowed your figure like a silhouette, or if it was his length that he felt in your tummy when he pressed his hand down, teasing you gently on how you were made to hold his length.

tonight was only the second time that you’d found your way into toji’s bed. after a long night of wining and dining, spending your night with a chef's course that toji told you, "i’ll pick a place that’ll learn your name," because he promised he’d continue taking you. he loved watching over you, opening your eyes to care that you didn’t know existed.

the kissing hadn't stopped since the moment you’d found his door, his lips sucking on your tongue even when his fingers fumbled with keys. and once he found the right key, he was pushing you against the door when you’d made your way in, his hand finding your ass and pulling you up his form, holding you as he found stairs until he was throwing you against his king-sized bed.

you should’ve known tonight would be different when toji didn’t delicately lay you in his bed, looking down at you with affection in his eyes, rather a darkness that read lust. a difference in atmosphere when there was space between your figures, enough to read his face and feel his aura that wasn't swallowing your kisses. something cold surrounded him, the scar that sat on his lips pulled upwards while his hands gripped your thighs; his hips slotted between them.

an eerily comfortable silence settled upon your figures. and you weren't sure if your breaths were interrupting it. with dark eyes moving over your body, you didn’t feel far off than dessert served on a platter for toji who was just a little too hungry.

"hi," you said without a mind of your own, hands fallen haphazardly on the thick, goose-feathered duvet you were sprawled on. your soft voice cut through the coldness that was the air you breathed, a smirk painted on toji's lips.

"hey, princess," he moves closer until it's impossible for his clothed bulge to press further between your legs without entering your panty-covered entrance. rough hands move underneath the fancy dress he'd bought you for that night, eyes moving down to the panties that you'd decided on. lace, sheer, and all. the brand that decided to sell it as an undergarment was generous, but the detail that went into it was worth the prize that it covered.

the prize that was surely leaving a dampening stain on the front of toji's trousers that it was pressed against. his thumb and forefinger move to capture the skin that covers your chin, pressing it to allow your eyes to meet once more. you wince, wanting nothing more than to feel toji filling you up like he had a week ago.

"y’so pretty, baby," his gruff voice says, calloused fingers rubbing against your soft skin. thumbs rubbing circles on the inside of your plush thighs. and you smile a small, embarrassed smile, not wanting toji to say another word without stripping you of your clothes. he watches with harsh eyes, chin tilted upwards as if expecting something out of you. and when he doesn’t get it, he purses his lips. "lost your manners?"

your eyes widen for a second, shaking your head while attempting to grind against his bulge. "th-thank you," you say while your partner's grip tightens on your skin, halting the attempt to grind against him.

"who?" and you feel lost for a second under the pressure of the words and the gaze that has you in a trance. "thank you, toji," you gulp, feeling all too tiny.

and when you see his lips curl up once more, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. "that’s m’girl," his thumb finds its way under the thin fabric of your panties. finding your clit without hesitation or a stutter, pressing harshly while his figure leans down. lips pressing against the corner of your lips.

"daddy's good lil’ girl, yeah?" hot breaths fan your skin as you wriggle from the sudden pressure against your most sensitive part. the heat growing on your face and between your legs mixed with the name the man had called himself was the start of your descent into a puddle underneath his form.

your descent into feeling small and your brain being filled with one thought and one thought alone. "'m daddy's good girl, please, wanna feel you," you whine in a voice that sounds unfamiliar to the one you used when you ordered your dinner just over an hour ago. the voice that you've only used with toji the one other time you've been in his bed.

finally. he's got you where he wants you, and he coos while you wrap one arm around the back of his neck, the other fumbling with buttons on the dress shirt he wore. toji laughs against your skin at the dumbness that's filling your eyes, unable to even undo a single button. his hand moves to find yours, holding it in place while his thumb begins moving circles around your clit.

"where does my dumb baby wanna feel me?" he teases, letting go of your hand to begin undoing his buttons in the slowest way he possibly can. it's as if he rubs over the circle, memorizing the uniqueness of each one before he slides it through the cloth hole. it feels like an eternity until the sides of the top fall on either side of his torso.

and if you felt small a minute ago, you felt microscopic under his dark gaze now. you felt like a bug ready to be stomped on under the broadness of his chest, traps that made his shoulder look that much bigger and stronger than they did under a shirt. the way his obliques stretched from the form he held overtop of you, one arm stretching the muscle as it laid against plush covers, the other moving underneath panties.

looking at your partner alone was enough to erase the question from your brain alone, further proving toji's point that you were just a dumb baby. but with the bliss that follows the way his rough thumb toys with your bud, you're unsure if you're able to communicate outside of moans.

"huh?" he grunts in question, and your eyes meet him as he bends down once more, moving a mere inch from your face and halting his movements. but thinking is too hard, and you don't remember the man asking a question, so you pout and look away. "w-what'd you say..?" it's daring to ask the question, but you do anyways and feel humiliated when toji's laugh fans your cheek.

"should've known you're too dumb," his voice is teasing. "need daddy to do all the thinkin' for you, huh? don't even know why ya gotta brain." you look back to toji, because you agree. thinking and speaking is too hard under his touch. not to mention he already paid for all your meals and outfits, toji took care of you in every sense of the word.

with wide eyes, you nod, "'m just need you," you whine, leaning forward to attempt to press a kiss to toji's lips, but the hand that isn't pressed firmly against your clit catches your throat before you're able to throw yourself at the man, pushing you against the bed with a choked whimper.

with the hold on your throat that still allows you to breathe, albeit hard to breathe, he's letting go of your clit that's held with his thumb. subbing two fingers that delve into your flowering hole without a warning, moving so that he's knuckle deep inside your cunt while choked cries beg to leave your throat.

"gonna fuck you like a dumb slut then, since, y'know, that's what you want baby," he scissors your cunt, moving in and out with a pace that makes you see stars, a warmth growing in your tummy while you're sure your throat is gonna have a small bruise where his thumb lies on one side.

as soon as you're beginning to enjoy yourself, beginning to feel your pulse in your throat and a knot grow in your belly, toji's pulling his fingers from your hole and releasing his hold on your neck. and, without enough time to whine in protest, his two fingers are finding their way to your lips. taking the opportunity when your mouth falls open and filling your pretty lips before he hears something dumb leave you.

the hand that was holding your pulse point moves to his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping with fervor until the girthy and lengthy member that you weren't used to yet, hits his lower tummy.

"taste good?" he teases, not bothering to meet your gaze as he lines himself up with your cunt that's moving with a mind of its own. trying to suck in toji which he hasn't even pressed against yet. another laugh and he's pushing through tight walls as you hum against fingers, your attempt at moaning something loud and wild at the sudden intrusion.

he only groans, taking his fingers from your mouth messily, saliva and all dripping against your lips and chin until they find their place around your neck once more. "d-daddy!" finally, you moan clearly and coherently as the man doesn't allow your tight hole to get adjusted, thrusting with a pace that's got your legs trembling around his waist and fingernails that are leaving crescent indents on the back of his neck and shoulders.

you didn't know if it was fair to say you were used to a different toji, having only found yourself in his sheets once more than now, but the toji who was filling you up with his length now was different than the one who welcomed you before. this toji was rough, uncaring of the bruise blossoming on the side of your neck, the way you screamed moans in his ear and the slapping of wet skin bouncing off of the surrounding walls. "dumb fuckin' pussy, squeezin' me 'n shit," he grunts, the only sound with the ability to be heard over your pathetic whimpers.

with the harsh movements, the expanding of your walls that squeezed against the man, on top of the words he groaned in your ear, it was hard to hold yourself back. the coil in your belly tightening faster than you'd like. "g-gonna cum," you whine, and toji moves his hand from your throat, replacing the rough callouses with the grazing of his teeth over your skin. "gonna fuck a fuckin' baby into you," he moans, bringing his knees onto the bed, pressing impossibly deep into your cunt while his hands move to the top of your head. resting there while he pushes you down even more to swallow his cock.

the mating press he fucks you into floods your senses, heat radiating and you're not sure if it's from you or the man holding you against his body. skin flushed against yours while sweat manifests a second layer over your soft skin. "cum on this dick, baby, c'mon," he urges, and it feels like a dare coming from him. like you have to prove the motion in order to continue being his, and you're committed.

"p-please, wanna baby," and maybe your dumbness caught up to you. maybe if you were sober from toji's cock, you'd be embarrassed by the words you were begging. but in the moment of tip kissing cervix, you wanted nothing more than warmth to fill your cunt. needed to feel warm cum dripping out of you as your life depended on it.

when toji felt the familiar feeling of your soft muscles squeezing around each vein of his cock, it was only right he allowed himself to fall into his own bliss. giving you what you asked for and continuing to fuck you after he'd spilled his seed into you. fucking his cum into you, scared that it would be wasted by falling onto the duvet your body rested against.

🏷️: @hopeannalea, @zaxlrza, @loviie-stuff, @nightjarwings, @natiluv, @cl-0-vr

last kinktober post... thank you for reading! thank you for joining my taglist and all the sweet messages attached! woohoo! i’m out this hoe

[cyanorth]

various magma doodles (first 5 w/ @michaelshelley36, last 2 w/ @spades7777 and ft its kayne fragment oc)

[potato-arts]

He just wants what’s best for you. Now go get some rest. You’ve been scrolling for too long.