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mitsuristoleme · 9 months

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“hey stupid, i love u”

cw: mild swearing, gn!reader, reader gets called ‘mom’, fluff fluff fluff

part 1 here but this can be read as a standalone

a/n: they need more domesticity. this is so self indulgent btw.g

tagging- @forest-hashira

You unlock the door as quietly as possible, and slip inside the house, making sure not to wake your family. It was still pretty early, only 9AM on a Saturday.

Your family. A chaotic mess consisting of your two boyfriends and four adopted (kinda) children. Neither you nor the boys thought you would be parents of four at 20, but you weren’t complaining. Smiling at the thought of them, you take off your shoes and put them into the shoe-rack.

Dumping you bag unceremoniously onto the dining table, you make your way to the bedroom you shared with your lovers, only to be greeted by an adorable sight as you enter.

Nanako and Megumi are sandwiched between Satoru and Suguru, Mimiko asleep on Satoru’s shoulder and Tsumiki curled up over Suguru’s head. A big cuddle pile of the people you love most.

If you were in a cartoon you would be a liquid puddle on the ground with hearts in your eyes.

Bringing out your phone, you take a million pictures before heading into the bathroom to clean up and change.

You take the quickest, quietest shower you have ever taken (normally Satoru and Suguru join you and well, that doesn’t end fast) and slip on one of Suguru’s hoodies and a pair of shorts.

You check the time on your phone, 10AM.

Deciding to make breakfast for everyone, you grab your dirty clothes to put in the laundry basket and begin making you way out of the room.

You’ve barely taken a couple steps when you hear shuffling from the bed and a hoarse little whisper of “Mom?”

Mimiko has moved away from Satoru’s shoulder and is looking at you, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Okay, fuck the laundry.

You drop your work uniform in a corner of the room and move to scoop Mimiko into your arms, pressing a kiss onto her head.

“Hi honey, you sleep well?”

She nods against you before mumbling a “missed you.”

“I missed you too, you menace,” you whispered, gently tickling her under her chin. “You wanna help me make breakfast, hmm?”

“Waffles?” she asks looking up at you with those pleading eyes you can never say no to.

You don’t have the heart to tell her you were gonna make oatmeal.

“Of course.”

In the kitchen, you seat Mimiko on the counter and put on your apron before you grab the child sized one with “Mimiko” embroidered on it and tie it up for her.

Mimiko adores that apron for no reason other than the fact that her dads got it for her on her birthday (of course Nanako has a matching one and of course they refused to take them off for a week, going as far as sleeping in their aprons).

You both get to work making the batter for the waffles. You put in the ingredients and mix as Mimiko ‘finishes’ the mixing.

While you’re washing and chopping the strawberries, your little chef chooses the playlist for that morning, one of Satoru’s making of course.

Distracted as you both are, you don’t notice Suguru enter the kitchen. At least not until he’s pressed up against your back, arms around your waist.

“Good morning, love,” he breathes into your ear, in that deep husky voice thats so fucking attractive it should be illegal.

“Hi Sugu,” you reply, heart thumping wildly in your chest. Even after three, almost four years of being together, the boys never failed to make you feel like a crushing schoolgirl.

You slice the last strawberry in half and turn around to face your boyfriend, looping your arms around him neck. He grins that devilishly handsome grin of his, and pecks your lips.

“Papa! I want hugs and kisses too,” pouts Mimiko, phone and playlist forgotten as she holds her arms out for her papa to embrace her.

“Of course my little angel.”

You look on fondly as Suguru dotes on your daughter, giggles emanating from their mouths. Watching your boys be soft for the kids made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

That was when Satoru walked out of the bedroom, eyes unfocused, his hair looking like he lost a fight with his pillow, and Nanako and Tsumiki under each arm. In a strange display of affection, Megumi was clutching onto his shoulders, legs dangling.

Satoru doesn’t seem to have noticed the fact that you’re at home. He deposits the kids onto the couch and makes his way towards the kitchen, whining about the loss of Suguru’s body heat.

“-can’t believe ya left me Sugu. No y/n either. M’heart is breaking-“

He’s in the middle of his sleepy tirade when he spots you, standing next to the sink, smiling.

“Hi ‘Toru.”

He immediately breaks out into a grin.

“BABYYYYY!!!” And you’re enveloped into a bone crushing hug.

You laugh as he lifts you off the ground and rocks you from side to side. He sets you down and begins peppering your face with kisses.

“I,” mwah, “Missed,” mwah, “You.” mwah.

Another arm snakes around your waist, Suguru pulling both you and Satoru closer. You notice from the corner of your eye that Mimiko has joined her siblings in the living room, the four if them crowded around an iPad.

You bask in your lovers’ hugs for a moment longer, before kissing their jaws and pulling yourself out of their arms.

“C’mon we still have four kids to feed,” you say in response to their forlorn expressions.

You peek your head out of the kitchen, calling out to the kids, “Kids! Waffles for breakfast! Dining table now!”

With a cheer and a yell of “You guys should all thank me for this” by Mimiko, the four children are seated at the table in record time.

Suguru forces you to sit on the dining table as he and Satoru make the waffles and serve them to everyone, with a heaping serving of whipped cream and chopped strawberries.

After breakfast, the girls enthusiastically remind you of the Girls’ Day you promised them that morning before you left. When you tell them to get dressed, the twins immediately break free from Satoru, who was showering them in affection (imagine his disappointment), and scamper to their room to choose their outfits.

Tsumiki shyly comes up to you, playing with the hem of her sleep shirt, “Mom, can you help me pick something to wear?”

These are the moments that make you realise how different life was for the four children before Satoru and Suguru found them. Tsumiki had never gotten the chance to go out much and you heart ached for the young girl.

You clear your throat to ease the tightness you felt and smiled at Tsumiki, “Of course ‘Miki! C’mon lets put together an outfit for you.”

As you get up from the couch, you share a glance with Satoru and Suguru, whose eyes reflect all the same emotions you had been feeling.

The last thing you hear before leaving is Suguru asking Megumi if he wants to go somewhere to compensate for the fact that the three boys were being left at home.

After helping Tsumiki pick an outfit, you send the girl off to shower before taking one yourself (the second consecutive shower without your boys, you note). You quickly do your makeup and slip into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Completely unable to locate your sweater (it was probably stolen by Satoru), you end up stealing Suguru’s leather jacket to wear on top of your t-shirt.

When you finally step back into the living room, Satoru greets you with a kiss on your lips and his signature cheshire grin. “You look good,” he says, ocean blue eyes looking you up and down appreciatively.

“Thanks,” you grin back, looping your arms around his neck.

“Can I come with?” he inquires almost pleadingly. “Baby its Girls’ Day.” “Yeah and?” “You’re not a girl Satoru!” “Bold of you to assume I’m not a woman.” “What?!?”

“I swear you two,” you hear Suguru sigh behind you. You look back at him, pouting. “‘Toru started it,” you complain.

Suguru laughs and pinches Satoru’s and your

cheeks, following it up by pecking your foreheads.

“You’re both such babies,” he chuckles as you and your white haired menace of a lover launch yourselves into Suguru’s arms.

“Your babies,” Satoru replies, cheekily.

“My babies.”

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doki-doki-imagines · 6 months

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hello there!hope you're doing great!! if you take resquets, may i ask for hcs about mk1 characters(maybe earthrealm champions, liu kang, syzoth, ashrah; sorry that's too much, you can choose those who you like best) reacting to gn reader suddenly hugging them really tight, and when they ask the reader, they explain themselves feeling cute agression and an urge to squeeze the life out of them,, sorry if it seems weird or anything, you can ignore it if you wish so!

author note: went with the last three and johnny! If you want you can request other characters too! You are lucky to have that kind of reaction, usually I either want to jump out of the window or punch them in the face LOL

Johnny Cage: -He is cooking, or better putting stuff together, hoping it will turn edible, when he feels your tight hug. -Your arms encircling his waist, your head laying on his back. -"Mh? What happened?" Johnny asks, with mirth in his voice. "You are so cute cooking for us. I had to impulse to hug you. You are just so fucking cute." You say into the back of his grey shirt, ending your speech with a kiss on his neck. -If you could see his face you would notice a smile taking most of Johnny's face. He so wants to kick his feet in the air like some schoolgirl. -But instead Johnny punches the kitchen wall cabinet, before turning around finally ready to give you the same amount ot sweetness. -It seems like you aren't the only one suffering for cute aggression.

Liu Kang: -He was simply helping one of the monk in daily chores when he hears you calling him. -Liu Kang excuses himself, a god that has his dna imbued in humilty, and walks toward you in a secluded area where usually nobody comes. The ruin of old temples all around, nature overflowing from every corner. -Liu Kang doesn't have the time to ask what is going on, your arms around his neck, grip tight. Your lips smack in between his eyebrows before you stick your face in the nook of his neck. -"Oh wow. I suppose thanks?" He says, lips near enough to your ears that you feel inside you the low chuckles that bloom from his throat. "You were so nice out there. You are a god but you still help us anyway, you are so nice Liu." You say, whining in his neck, leaving another kiss there. "You are so good Liu, you are such a good god." You keep blabbering, but without any other reason that thinking it for real, wanting to make him feel good. -You see, Liu Kang doesn't suffer of cute aggression, but being told he did a good action, that he is a good boy sparks…something else. -"Liu? Is your temperature rising? Are you fine?" You ask, looking up into his eyes. He nods, before breaking the hug, but now holding your hand, pulling you who knows where. -His won't be the only temperature rising.

Syzoth: -He is studying in the library and you are sitting in front of him, bored out of your mind. -You start to look at your boyfriend face, noticing how the little ray of sun lighted his face, making his green eyes shine under those long blond-ish lashes, the hood of his uniform covering his head, but some of his hair brighten under the sun. -The points of his tongue wet his lips while turning page after page, searching more and more of his origins. -Syzoth is concentrated, eyebrows furrowed, almost looking angry, but you could only see cuteness radiating from his body. -So you do the obvious next step; sitting next to him and hugging his neck till he almost chokes. -"Oh! What is happening? Did something scare you?" Syzoth asks, mostly worried. You kiss the top of his head, still covered by the green hood before saying "No, you are just tremendously cute while studying. My hot nerd." You mumble, still hugging him. -Syzoth doesn't really understand this, not used to these acts of affection, but you seem happy. You called him cute, doezn't know what a nerd is, so he relaxes under your touch. -When you let him go, Syzoth goes back to his book, but will keep an arm around your waist to feel you close to him.

Ashrah: -You are preparing tea for both of you, while Ashrah is sitting on grass, at the entrance of Wu Shi forest. -When the hot beverages are finally ready, you exit the kitchen, and you see her. -Ashrah is surrounded by nature, obviously, but you see some magic in there. The bees seem to create happy dances in the air, butterflies, so big and colourful flying from flowers to flowers and then- -A cute bird lay on Ashrah's shoulder. She turns around and smiles at the creature that chirps before flying away, leaving a happy smile on the demon's face. -She looked like an angel. -You throw the cups on the grass (thankfully, they don't break in million pieces), and run towards her. The hug is so powerful that she ends up laying on the ground with you on top. -"Hey! Is everything fine?" "Yes, you are simply the most beautiful being ever." You say, before kissing her fully on the lips. -She pats your head, happy at least that you are not hurt. -"I'd still like tea-" "Yeah, yeah I'll make it again. Just let me rest in your arms a little longer…" -You soon fell asleep on her.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #mk reptile #syzoth #syzoth x reader #mk ashrah #ashrah x reader

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eternalsa2z · 6 months

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Costumes Games

So my doll Zoey was progressing well on her path to being the perfect little bimbo. But there were some bumps in the process...and not the nice silicone kind that we wanted. She was a bit resistant to some of the more extreme changes. Questioning why we need to try this, upgrade that, dress this way. Overthinking was getting in the way of her happiness.

Luckily I discovered that she loved games and dressing up in costumes. I decided to put together a little training exercise where I would text her a simple phrase and she would have 30 minutes to dress up in a matching outfit and send me the results. At first I started simple. But eventually the costumes would push her deeper into her desired mind and body.

"Dressed To Kill"

The first attempt had mixed results. She took the message literally, going for a slasher look with a full mask. Obviously that was not ideal, but I was pleased to note the way she stuck out her ass in the short leotard. I simply told her that the real 'horror' part of the look was that she covered up her breasts and pretty face. I could tell she was blushing under the mask...hopefully the hint would sink in later.

"Bunny"

The second phrase had the desired affect. She could've gone with a Lola Bunny cosplay or a more modest bunny costume. But I was pleased to see she went for the full-blown sexy playboy bunny outfit. Sure she was a little shy, especially when I told her I loved her looking like 'my little fuck bunny'. But the way her tail quivered told me she was enjoying it.

"Schoolgirl"

She was faster to send a photo this time. Probably because the choice was a simple and short as the uniform she dressed up in. Zoey's pouty face and eye-rolling expression seemed to indicate she disapproved of the request I made. But I didn't tell her to put on those sexy fishnets. Or pull her short skirt up so much her white panties were visible. I didn't even ask her to show off her new fake tits she agreed to get after telling her it'd enhance her costumes. She chose that. It was a sign the training was working...but this schoolgirl still had more to learn.

"Dressed To Kill"

As a test I texted her an old phrase out of the blue, telling her she had 15 minutes before I would be home to take her out to eat. I wanted to test her progress and set the expectation that she should be ready to dress up anytime, anywhere. She spent two minutes complaining but eventually sent me this pic right as I was pulling into the driveway.

It was such an improvement. She looked sleeker and sexier than last time. Her recently enhanced ass still sticking out and her tits definitely not covered by the top of that tight dress. Sure she was covering her face again, probably because she was worried that this outfit wasn't technically a costume. But I kissed her and once I told her she was dressed as 'a trophy wife' then she happily put herself on full display at the restaurant.

"Pet"

Eventually the costumes requests came quicker, with a shorter deadline, and with more vague prompts. I wanted Zoey to not even think. To instinctively react and pick something sexy. It turned out purrrrectly with her latest choice. It took her five minutes to throw on this leopard print leotard complete with cute cat ears. When I asked my doll why she went with that look, she just stared at me blankly like the answer was obvious. "Because I'm your little sex kitten..."

"Pumpkin"

The last thing to work on was the mental side of things. I tried to dumb down my doll by disorienting her with odd costume requests. Since there's nothing sexy about a big round orange gourd, I was hoping she'd impulsively pick something 'cute as a pumpkin' or to highlight her big, fake, silicone-enhanced pumpkins. But this time it was my doll who surprised me.

It took her minutes to get into this getup. She looked a little befuddled, like she wasn't even sure what she was, but whatever she chose she looked great. I though her sexy little cowgirl / farmer outfit with pumpkins in the background was a great idea. She said it was because she wanted to ride me cowgirl style in the costume allllll night. That made it an even better costume idea!

"Birthday suit"

Finally it was clear that the games had worked. Zoey was a blank, busty, instinctive bimbo doll who could pick out an outfit faster than she could compute that 2 + 2 = 5. To celebrate, I wanted to get her naked. But I should have expected my silly little ditz to not quite understand the assignment.

"Ummm...like...I wasn't sure why you wanted me to wear a suit?" she responded, looking confused and thus very cute. "So I just baked you a pretty birthday cake in my sexy robe! Would you like to rub the frosting over my titties and lick it off later tonight?"

Like Zoey, I didn't even have to think. I told her of course...and that she didn't need to include the robe. It was the one outfit I didn't need her to put on this time. Because she had finally become the perfect bimbo doll we both always wanted her to be.

#bimboification #f2f transformation

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months

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Ok we know Gojo makes his darling act like their in high school but if he actually made them do school work because it makes it more real I know I for one would be so pissed but also he can use it as an excuse to hit on his ‘cute tutor’ because apparently he finds that so romantic.

Additionally I fully believe if Geto did the same thing as far as making pretend their in school again he’d make his darling hold him and fucking cry

gojo + age regression = you getting fucked in an ill-fitting uniform on a twin-sized dorm room mattress while decade-old anime blares in the background and you fight to stay conscious despite having an amount of weed and booze in your system that only a fifteen year old or a superhuman like gojo would be able to tolerate. the next day, he'll lock off the room he uses to indulge his little fantasies and go back to his less prop-necessary delusions (that you're a happy couple who loves each other in completely normal and healthy ways) until the next time he needs to burn a little stress.

geto + age regression = an attempt at teacher/student roleplay that quickly devolves into him skull-fucking you with tears in his eyes while he makes you swear that you'll never, ever, ever go where he won't be able to protect you from everything in the world that's worse than him. after he cums, you'll have to play therapist for another hour until he eventually sobs himself to sleep in your lap. if you bring it up, he'll claim you're the one who cried and begged him to protect you and that you should really try to put that schoolgirl uniform to use again. rinse and repeat for the foreseeable future.

#personal #anon ask #yandere gojo #yandere geto

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rainbow-crane · 3 months

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In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 3: Sayaka Maizono

It's finally time for my #1 THH girlie to shine!!! I may be a bit biased with this one because of how much I adore her, but I'll try my best to remain objective as we go in-depth on how well-written of a character she is. They used her character schtick incredibly, and I can't wait to go into why.

As always, only offical, canon material will be used in this analysis, primarily the english translation of the THH game. If you aren't interested, just keep scrolling.

Part 1- Character Design

Sayaka Maizono was one of the first characters to reach completion, designed for maximum likability to the player. Her look is extremely basic and palatable, with a regular schoolgirl uniform and softer features, and she's characterized instead through her expressions, which are used to either purposefully cover up her true feelings or let the 'perfect idol girl' mask slip when appropriate.

Her given talent was that of the SHSL Idol, or the Ultimate Pop Sensation, adding to her cutesy and likable nature. She was also used during development of the game itself as a placeholder due to how quickly her design came together, which made the developers sick and tired of looking at her(alongside Leon Kuwata, who was also finalized relatively quickly) and led to an early exit in-game.

Part 2- The Assistant Trope/Inspiration

Like many of the characters in Danganronpa, Sayaka was designed around and used to subvert one of the many tropes found in mystery/detective games at the time. For Sayaka, this was that of the deuteragonist, the assistant(one well-known example being Maya Fey from Ace Attorney). Her character introduction, the quick establishment of her relationship with the player, and her 'pleasant' demeanor all factor into this, making her seem as though she's going to be a major player throughout the rest of the game. She was originally meant to be a childhood friend as well, but this was severely cut down to just having gone to the same school. She was also put front and center alongside Makoto and Kyoko in the promotional material for the game to create a level of perceived importance for her before the game even started, and preemptively raise the audience's expectations for her role.

But there was another character that a lot of inspiration was pulled from- Marion Crane from the 1960 film Psycho. Marion is a character who'd lived her entire life as a good person but, in a moment of desperation, steals $40k and goes on the run. The first half of the movie paints her as the protagonist, only for her to be abruptly murdered and for the movie to shift to solving the mystery of her disappearance. Sound familiar?

Part 3- Character Introduction

From the get-go, Sayaka is put into a helper's position. She's not the one to suggest going around and introducing ourselves, nor is she the one to justify why, but she is the one that ends the debate and moves the game into introductory mode, suggesting that she's the go-to for the player to move forward in the game- "Okay, so let's get introductions out of the way, then we can move on to whatever else. Sound good?" She's not asking the class, she's asking you as the player if you're ready to keep going.

Her first intro is brief, focusing less on her character and more on her public image. Makoto narrates about her position as lead singer in her idol group and how beautiful she is, as well as teasing some form of previous meeting between her and us. We also quickly establish her strong intuition.

"Well, never mind. No matter how you slice it, she's really beautiful. Almost like a doll or something..." "I'm not a doll, you know. I'm alive!"

She also seems to recognize you, despite the belief that she probably wouldn't remember. Of course, before you can talk any further, you're interrupted so the plot can keep moving, securing a connection to her without any actual information required.

As you talk to the rest of the class and head towards the entrance ceremony, she's one of the few to voice her concerns about the state of the school, and points out the lack of other students("And why isn't there anyone here? Walking through the halls, I didn't see a single person..."). She's observant and perceptive, keeping her guard up. In fact, she barely speaks throughout the entrance ceremony and immediate aftermath, waiting until their situation has been explained by Monokuma and all the rules have been read to call any attention to herself. When she finally does speak, it's to try and clarify rule 6- the rule that states killers can leave unless discovered.

So the first impression we're left with is that she's a more level-headed and competent girl with some kind of important connection to us, one that appears to be mutual. Anticipation has been built to learn more about that connection as well, which directly affects the story going forward.

Part 4- Your Ultimate Assistant

A major part of why Sayaka works as a character is because she connects with the player directly, offering to help you via a connection to our player character, Makoto. This relationship with us as an audience is the core purpose of her existence in the narrative. When we wake up in Makoto's bedroom and walk outside, it's Sayaka who's there waiting for us, to check if we're okay and fill us in on what's happened while we were out. She's here to help, but keeps the focus on how we're doing.

"But... are *you* okay? You know, from when Mondo hit you..."

"Oh, that's good. I was kinda worried..."

"Well, if you really are feeling better... I was hoping you could come to the dining hall."

She's also the character used from a meta perspective to teach us the functions of the game itself. It creates a certain reliance and trust in the character to continue being helpful to us as the player, even when it's not actually her doing.

It's here where we go on to learn how exactly she knew Makoto- the two of them went to the same middle school, albeit in different classes, and despite the fact that Makoto straight-up admits to having no distinguishable traits, all she can do is laugh it off, happy to have someone somewhat familiar nearby. She attributes this relief solely to Makoto, as if she's indebted to him, and decides she wants to thank you by acting as your Ultimate Assistant. In other words, she's buttering us up so we'll trust her wholeheartedly, and establishes a 'you and me against the world' relationship. And in-character, it works perfectly, with Makoto falling hook, like, and sinker.

"I'm just surprised, is all. I wouldn't have thought you'd remember me." "We went to the same school for three years, of course I remember!"

"But *you're* the one that helped me find my courage again. Not any of those 'ultimate' students." "Thank you for saying that..."

"I'm going to help you out as much as I can, so let's get out of here together!" "When she says things like that, it... it just gets me pumped up!"

"I may not be the best assistant in the world, but I'll give it everything I've got." "No... you've already done so much as my assistant." <-(said almost immediately afterwards, with no character action or events in-between)

And again, the game's mechanics force you to rely solely on Sayaka, utilizing the purple words to have the rest of the day's events explained through Sayaka being personable and helpful.

She continues to be the one to calmly explain what's happened so the player isn't lost or confused. She acts as a voice of reason when the class starts to panic. And again, once the conversation is ended by Celeste, she checks in with you again before splitting up.

"Okay, so since you're in the dark about all this, let me lay out what's been going on."

"Everyone just calm down, please! We need to stop and think about what to do from here."

"Makoto... are you ready to call it a day?" "Yeah, let's go."

The entire next day is spent completely with Sayaka, without a moment's break. From the moment Makoto wakes up, the objective is to talk to Sayaka, and you hunt for a defensive weapon with her. Even without finding a reliable weapon, Makoto very quickly offers himself up as a protector for her, and with that, the search ends. She's gotten what she really wanted- a reliable friend.

"H-Hey, don't worry about it! It's not like you need it right away, right? Plus, if anything *were* to happen... when the time comes... I'll protect you." "You'll... protect me? Thank you for saying that... If I've got you on my side, I guess I don't need a weapon after all!"

You learn more about her by sticking together and talking afterwards, and once you're done with that, the game decides to explain the concept of FTEs via immediately sending you Sayaka's way, again, to bond with her even more("Anyway, why don't you try it out by spending some time with Miss Sayaka Maizono? She's the ideal partner to begin with, don't you think?"), as well as give the player their first skill for the upcoming class trials. It's on-the-nose to the point where Sayaka herself apologizes for it.

This also works to her benefit, as even if the player is getting annoyed by the tutorials, they're less likely to blame Sayaka as a character for it, since she's showing shame for how much time it's taking. Sayaka is unequivocally the character to care about, the character to pay attention to. She becomes the object of Makoto's affections, and makes herself invaluable in his and the players' eyes, all with the handy help of game mechanic tutorials. Whether or not you as the player trust her or find her suspicious, she becomes the character at the forefront of your mind. Either way, the job is done.

Part 5- The Idol Mask

All this knowledge about how she operates for the player as a meta perspective is great, but it doesn't actually tell us a ton about Sayaka herself as a character. It's moreso about how we're being set up to perceive her existence within the game. Regardless, it's important to understand that setup to see why she works, but it's equally important to get into the characterization itself. So, let's do that now.

We already know that she's been working towards establishing a strong bond between herself and Makoto, making him feel better about being surrounded by people with insane talents and offering as much familiarity as possible, as well as singling him out and separating him from the rest of the class while everyone else forms their relationships separately.

She's been doing a great job of keeping up this appearance of a cute and reliable helper, but this leaves her seemingly lacking in substance, as she's solely focused on making us comfortable with her first and foremost. This is something that, from a character perspective, can easily be pulled from her idol career- she's a massive celebrity who advertises cuteness and likability, so leaning into that and using it to her advantage is a logical first step for her in establishing fondness.

As we head to the trophy case in the gym, we do start to get hints of her actual motivations and desires if you stop in the main hall to talk to Leon. It's brief, but a nice touch, especially considering the dynamic between these two later on.

Sayaka's true self doesn't really reveal itself until your conversation with her in the entrance to the gym, though, when she asks to spend some extra time together. Having nothing else to do feels wrong to her. It's unfamiliar, and puts her on edge("No, it's not that it's boring. It's just... I've never really done it before. I don't have a lot of time to just... do nothing."). It's enough to start to move her out of that idol shell in an attempt to fill that time, and let a little bit of that idol's mask slip- "Hey, um... this is kinda out of nowhere, but... Makoto, do you have a dream?"

By turning it around and asking about her dream, we directly connect with her core value- her deeply focused motivation for her childhood dream. It's something that she can't help but gush about, both the wonderful and terrifying parts of it. We get to learn exactly where she came from, raised by the TV, no mother to speak of and an absent father working his ass off, and how her dream took form as she watched her own idols.

"But more than anything else, there was her smile. Looking at her smile, I could feel my loneliness melting away. I decided that's what I wanted to be someday. I wanted to give that kind of encouragement to others."

The mention of an idol's smile specifically is proof that she did, in fact, succeed wholly on this dream, as it calls directly to the repeated mention of how comforting Sayaka's smile is to Makoto.

"That somehow mysterious smile of hers made my heart grow calmer."

"I can tell it comes from the heart. It makes me feel at ease..."

"That mysterious smile that softens my heart... I really wasn't flattering her. That smile saved me."

It also gives us some insight into why said smile exists, and just how often she's masking around us- "Her earlier mood disappeared, replaced by the bright smile I'd quickly grown used to. But how'd it happen so fast? It was almost like a mask, like some kind of neutral expression."

We also get to learn just what kind of world Sayaka lives in, and how much work it takes to keep her dream alive. The entertainment industry is cutthroat, and to be a positive role model and live her dream onstage, she has to fight tooth and nail at all times.

"I did whatever it took to reach that dream. I mean it. Even some things that... weren't so pleasant."

"To make your dream a reality, you have to keep your gaze fixed on it no matter what. In that world, if you lose focus for even a split second, you get left behind. You have to keep on swimming against the current, without even taking time to breathe..."

She even has to compete against the people in her own idol group for attention, though that rivalry is a major factor in what motivates her so much.

"We've been performing together since we were young, so they're all like family to me. Without them, I would have given up on my dream a long time ago."

Although Sayaka has been using Makoto to build herself a safety net and have someone to fall back on, her willingness to share this part of herself exists as proof that she did care about him to some extent. She genuinely does feel more secure with him around, and it allows her to let out her fear and frustrations safely. She's able to take the mask off for a bit.

She has a deep-seated fear of losing everything she's worked for, her entire life's work, to the whim of public attention. And it's not just her livelihood put at risk by this- it's the other 4 girls from her idol group as well. She's their lead singer, their central figure people think of from their group. They could keep performing without her, sure, but the public's perception of them would irrevocably change, and interest would drop. It's a realistic fear, too, as celebrity culture is defined by its "15 minutes of fame," and while she could probably milk her kidnapping story for exposure if she got out quickly enough, tragedies happen every day. With enough time, people would and could forget about her.

We get to see this further after the viewing of the motive videos. After everyone's watched their videos, she has the most volatile response, shoving Makoto away and running out of the AV room to hide. Upon being found, she's described as having no expression or emotion on her face. She's in the process of going completely numb, and can't even bring herself to lie when Makoto asks if she's okay.

It's here that a solid divide is truly defined between Makoto and Sayaka. Their motive videos, while both intense, have completely different implications. Makoto hasn't actually seen hers yet, but assumes it must be the same as his, and thus, his attempts to assure her ultimately fall flat.

"Think about it- those videos have to be fake! Because if those things really had happened...people out there would be in an uproar. Our families, the police, everyone!"

But Sayaka's motive video didn't just imply that her loved ones were hurt. No, her motive video insinuates that her being trapped led to her band falling apart. Their stage presence is gone; they're fading into obscurity. The family she found through the stage is now separated. And that's not something the police would think twice about. That's just the entertainment industry functioning as normal, and actualizing her greatest fears. She is replaceable.

It's here where we truly see what Sayaka's resolve is made of, and where she shows us that she's been thinking of killing this whole time.

Though no one's died yet, the mere idea of killing someone to get free has been gnawing away at her. Not only that, the need to act before anyone else makes the first move is something she's already familiar with thanks to working in the entertainment industry; to keep ahead of the game, you have to push out content constantly. She has to be the lead singer, she has to have the best music. All this pressure is mounting, and the motive video is leading her to blow. And through Makoto's help, she's able to calm herself down enough to direct the steam.

"I-If that happens...then I'll get you out of here myself! No matter what it takes!"

"Can I... can I believe what you said? That you'll help me get out? No matter what it takes?" "A-Absolutely!" "Makoto... You're the only one I can trust. So please... No matter what happens, please always be there for me. I need you on my side..."

Makoto says himself that he'll get her out "no matter what it takes." And he says this while they're trapped in a killing game, where as far as they know, the act of killing someone is the only way to escape. To Sayaka, this reads as an offer: I'll help you kill someone if we have to. So that's what she plans to do.

(It's also worth noting that, at that point, neither of them knew about the class trial at this point, or the potential repercussions of voting incorrectly in one. If they had, this entire situation may have been very different. We'll never know for sure.)

Though the personality she shows us for most of the game is one that's carefully curated, on the inside, she's constantly in terror. She knows how much to reveal about herself and how much not to in order to gain favor, and is always calculating her next move. We know from the description of her dream that she isn't an inherently selfish person- she acts for a dream that she believes is worth it in the long run, and wants to inspire and comfort young girls like herself and make them feel more secure. The concern she shows for Makoto's health and her remembering him from middle school isn't all purely an act; you can't fake memories that are that accurate to what actually happened in the past(will go into more detail in Relationships for this). She latches herself onto Makoto because she wants it to be Makoto, and while she tries to act to her benefit, her softer, more caring nature ultimately stops her from doing so, and winds up getting her killed.

Part 6- Sayaka's Murder

As stated previously, Sayaka being the first victim was designed to be completely shocking to its original audience. She was someone so clearly set up to be important to Makoto, and assisted us in walking through the beginning of the game. A strong bond was established between the two of them, and a character like that was typically propped up to be someone critical to the story unfolding. So this twist was like a gut punch to 2010 Japan. Nowadays, this trope-subversion has become a trope in and of itself, and that can be partially attributed to how much impact Danganronpa had within the genre, but it does make this twist into more of a base expectation for a newer generation of fans. Regardless, this was a major shock at the time, as was confirmed by interviews with the creator. This twist was even protected by the demo of the game, as the victim there was Yasuhiro.

For the rest of the chapter, we have to work to find out who's responsible for her death, and why she ended up dying. It's set to be both the moment that the player begins to take the murder-mystery aspects of the game seriously, and acts as a way to force Makoto as a character to take initiative in the class trial, as almost everyone immediately writes him off as responsible for her murder due to the location of the body. So in a way, Sayaka works in one final act as helper to the player, as it's her murder that leads to the first trial and how to play them.

It's in the trial where we also have it confirmed for us that Sayaka was the instigator, as the evidence gathered unfolds into a failed murderer being murdered herself. Though this comes as a shock to Makoto, we've already seen and addressed how she came to this point and why, so I'll spare the details of explaining the entire trial so we can stay focused on Sayaka herself. Suffice to say, this revealed betrayal serves to develop Makoto's empathy for the rest of the cast going forward as he realizes the one that trusted him most was using him as a buffer, thinking through every step of how to keep suspicion off of herself.

"Now do you understand? She wasn't a blameless victim in all this."

"And if it's true that she had the kitchen knife and attacked without provocation..." "Indeed... these are all the actions of an assailant."

"And by committing the murder there, instead of her room, that would implicate Makoto."

"For one thing, even if her plan worked, Mr. Naegi would just tell everyone they'd switched rooms." "I don't know... I'm not sure our softhearted Makoto is capable of that kind of cutthroat behavior. I'm sure Sayaka realized the same thing".

In the end, it's Kyoko who puts together not only that Sayaka was the one responsible for the trial, but also that her dying message existed to save Makoto. She deciphers the inverted English letters, and even pulls Makoto aside to say as much about Sayaka's true intentions.

"Sayaka meant to double-cross you. That's a fact that you can never change. But even till the very end, she wasn't sure of her decision. That's why... as she lay dying, she was thinking of you."

And because Kyoko is a character who goes on to be established as someone who seeks out the absolute truth, combined with the behavior we saw from Sayaka prior to the murder plot, we can trust that this inference is accurate. It's also directly shown to be true in other official adaptations, such as the stageplay, in which she's murdered in the bedroom and drags herself to the wall to write down Leon's name for Makoto.

Part 7- Relationships

Though Sayaka has few relationships, they're all fiercely important to her, enough to where she's willing to die/kill for them.

7.1- Sayaka's Bandmates

Though they aren't ever named in-game, Sayaka makes it very clear how important her bandmates are to her. She tells us that she sees them as her family, something huge for a girl who grew up lonely, and that her greatest fear is being forced to go their separate ways. They're her best friends, her coworkers, her rivals, her family. They've been involved in every aspect of her life as her bandmates. Their existence and this focus brought on them elevates Sayaka's own motivations- fearing for the success of their band as an idol isn't just about her own success anymore. Her being kidnapped puts her family's livelihood at stake, not just her own. And the motive video serves to throw that fact in her face.

7.2- Makoto Naegi

Sayaka latches onto Makoto quickly for a reason- he's familiar. The government-mandated FTE tells us as much. Not only did they go to the same middle school, but he was someone she very distinctly remembered. Because Makoto was in charge of taking care of the school's animals, he was the one who once led a giant crane out of the school's pond and into the nearby forest. It left enough of an impression on Sayaka for not having spoken to him back then becoming one of her greatest regrets, attributing the event to being something out of a fairytale.

"Honestly though, I was so impressed... That's why I always wanted to talk to you, even just once."

This story is one that's undoubtedly true, and Makoto himself remembers the event clearly as well. It stands as solid, undeniable evidence- that even though she was trying to use him to her benefit, she did genuinely like and admire him as a person, long before the game ever began, and enjoyed his company. She doesn't tell him how she became an idol or confide her fears purely for strategy; if that were the case, she wouldn't have panicked so badly at the motive video and ran. She doesn't want people to see that fearful side of her, but developed enough trust in Makoto to take the risk of letting him see her vulnerable. In the end, that vulnerability works in her favor, but to write it off as just manipulation for the sake of her plan would be inaccurate. Rather, she had genuine fear, and a genuine need to confide in someone, and made the observation as she did that it may be something she could use.

We're given a distinct difference between when she's acting for her benefit and when she's being genuine spelled out for us in our final conversation with her as well. When she's faking that fear of someone trying to break into her room, her irises still have their color, and she's still perfectly in control of herself, able to control her volume and look us in the eye as she gets access to Makoto's room. It exists in a stark contrast to her two breakdowns, where her eyes went white and she started to scream, panicking too much to pay attention to her surroundings.

She trusts Makoto wholeheartedly in the way he trusts her. He was there for her when she needed it, and that's how she's able to develop the confidence to go on and fake it later; she knows he'll take her concerns seriously. So she lies, saying that someone attempted to break in, and convinces him to switch rooms for the night, simultaneously giving her the space she needs to work with to avoid being caught and absolving Makoto of any blame for what she's about to do by keeping him in the dark. When she becomes a killer, he won't fall with her. There are a couple other instances of this subtle protection of Makoto that can be found in the game, like her taking him to look for a defensive weapon only to convince him he should be the one to have it, or her writing the name of her real killer down so Makoto wouldn't be blamed for her death.

It's also worth noting that in the canonical au novel Danganronpa IF, when Sayaka goes to have this conversation, Makoto faints and Sayaka immediately drops the act entirely, instead choosing to focus on getting Makoto taken care of. She rushes him to the nurse's office, and stays with him through the entire night, only going to bed in the morning when Mukuro takes her place so she won't pass out. These aren't the actions of someone acting purely in accordance with her self-gain. If that were the case, she could've just grabbed his key, thrown him in her room, and continued with her plan as normal. But she didn't. Makoto's health and safety is decidedly a real priority of hers every step of the way.

7.3- Leon Kuwata

The original game doesn't do very much to explain why Sayaka would choose Leon to attack as a victim. We learn through Leon's introduction that he wants to become a musician, but other than that, these two barely interact, and only in scenes that are skippable and not on the main storyline(pictured earlier). This comes from the unfortunate result of Leon just so happening upon the developers' shitlist and being killed off first so they wouldn't have to look at him anymore. As was stated earlier, both Sayaka and Leon were the first character designs to reach completion, and were then used in early development of the game quite often. This led to the game devs becoming sick and tired of looking at them and thus, chapter 1 had them both die. And while Sayaka was important enough to the development of the protagonist, Leon was not, and ultimately fell to the wayside throughout his time alive in the game. But that's not to say they didn't at least have an idea of what they wanted to do with the two's relationship at all, and the truth behind why she chose him was expanded upon in the supplemental manga series.

After Mondo knocked Makoto out on the first day, it was Leon who offered to help Sayaka carry him to their dorms in the hopes they'd get to talk. As we already knew, he wants to be a musician, and admires Sayaka for succeeding in the industry. Sayaka sees his excitement and how lighthearted of a person he is, and simultaneously admires and pities it; someone so casual wouldn't be able to fight his way through the industry, as far as she thinks. It'd only hurt him further.

Later, when she's trying to decide who to kill, she remembers this conversation. Leon is one of the only other people besides Makoto she's made any connection with, so he wouldn't suspect she was planning to kill him. Besides, surely he'd understand where she was coming from if he really wanted to be in the entertainment industry, and if he couldn't understand then, well, he was never cut out for it anyway. She was able to justify attacking him in her mind because of this, and thus, he became her target.

Ultimately, Leon wasn't even trying to kill her when she got stabbed. After getting the screwdriver from his toolkit, he was trying to wrestle the knife away from her and talk things out. He didn't trust Monokuma's empty promises, and respected her enough to try to get through to her. Meanwhile, Sayaka couldn't give up; she was in too deep, and if she didn't kill him, then surely he'd tell everyone, and she'd lose everything she'd worked for. But in their struggle, the knife ended up in her stomach, and he ran out, unable to watch her die as he went into damage control and she wrote his name in her blood, as one final apology to Makoto.

In the original game, we never get any of this insight into what happened. We only get Leon's insistence that it was out of self-defense and that he was "just unlucky."

He never fully gets to explain himself, and is executed without another thought, similar to how Sayaka died without ever getting to tell Makoto the truth.

Part 8- School Mode: Sayaka's Ending

After completing THH, you unlock School Mode- Enchanting Dangan Academy: Purely Prismatic Souls, in which instead of announcing a killing game, Monokuma demands the class build themed backups for him. In the downtime for this mode, it acts as a dating sim, as once you finish out someone's FTEs, you can take them on trips to different places in the school and level up their hearts to a max 10. If you win the school mode, and max out Sayaka, you unlock an ending conversation between her and Makoto. This is true of all the characters, but Sayaka's is special because she brings up the promise to stay by her side you made in the main game, despite it never taking place in the school mode.

This reveals something major- Sayaka was, in fact, psychic, and could see into alternate timelines all along. Her psychic intuition assured her there was a universe where Makoto would succeed in saving her, and it allowed her to endure the killing game.

"I knew everything... I knew you would never give up until it was all over. That's why I was able to go through all this, why it didn't hurt... Cuz I'm psychic, ya know?"

(And forgive me for getting conspiratorial here, but the way this is phrased leaves me to wonder if she, to some level, knew she was in a game, and that the tutorials being geared to Sayaka may not have been such a happy coincidence in-universe.)

Part 9- Starfall (Why do we care?)

After reading everything I've said in here, I imagine there'll inevitably be people who disagree with the end results of my analysis. I mean, there's not any real way to know what she's really thinking. So who's to say I'm 100% correct about her genuinely caring for Makoto? Maybe she cared more about her own idol status than anything else, and really was a selfish attention-seeking snake. (I mean, she wasn't completely lol, but I'm making a point here.) What I've presented is my interpretation of her motivations based off of the evidence given. You may not completely agree, and that's okay. Honestly, if anything, disagreeing with some of these conclusions only furthers the point of her character- We're not meant to fully understand her because people aren't easy to understand that quickly. People are complex, and you're not gonna be able to automatically trust the people that appeal to you. Sayaka's story is a remnant of the original idea for the beta version of DR; she pushes you to distrust. Blind faith can get you killed.

Afterword

I think I've really outdone myself with this one, y'all. I adore Sayaka and, even knowing why they chose her for this early-death role, still believe this was an incredible use of her character. As you can probably tell, she's my #1 character from THH for a reason lol.

I'm gonna start on Yasuhiro's analysis in a couple days, but there'll probably be a bigger gap between this one and the next than there's been between the past few analyses bc I have a real life I need to attend to sometimes :/

I hope y'all all thoroughly enjoyed this analysis!! Catch ya later

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knightochan-official · 3 months

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a thing about being a trans woman is that its very easy to have a reflexive negative reaction to being told "this thing you like was historically awful, actually" because you basically cant trip over most articles of feminine clothing without being told how awful and fetishizing you are by some old cis woman.

thigh highs with a skirt? get ready to be lectured about idk, schoolgirl uniforms

bought a corset, not even as a sex thing, just because it makes your shape more flattering? dont you know in the 1960s they had to wear corsets to their service jobs and it was uncomfortably tight and damaged their ribs. bet you feel bad now huh

etc etc. so after 10 years of putting up with that that when we see something like, "the maid uniform and fantasy in real history was part of a complex and oppressive social hierarchy" I do think a flippant reaction is justifiable no matter how right the op is

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tojiipurr · 11 months

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Sex Pollen w/ Gojo

Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

warnings! porn with plot, dub-con but reader enjoys it, age gap, sex pollen, voyeurism(?), i was gonna make it a lot worse i dunno what happened lol (please let me know if i missed any!)

synopsis! gojo brings you on a mission where you encounter a cursed spirit with an odd technique...

wc: 2.5K not proofread

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You are truly grateful for Gojo. He only became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech when you were in your third, final year but he was so good to you, helping you however he could. You looked up to him. You had a little crush on him, but it was nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush.

Right after graduation he took you under his wing completely. Taking you on missions all the time, suggesting even more ways to improve your technique. He always had your back. You had a true mentor-mentee relationship, but you got along as friends too. Sure you found Gojo attractive, who wouldn't, but that's all it was now.

That was over two years ago. It was still the same as always. Gojo called you up earlier that morning to invite you along on a mission. He often did, knowing you didn't get many on your own. You weren't near the same grade he is. Plus, he enjoys having your company.

"Do you know what we're up against, Gojo-Sensei?" You ask him. The two of you walk down a noisy but lowly populated side street side by side. He's still dressed in his teacher uniform, reminding you of the older days.

"How many times do I have to tell you to drop the Sensei title?" Gojo pouts, putting on an overdramatic frown. He reaches a large, slender hand over to you and pinches your plush cheek. He snickers at your whine. "I'm not your teacher anymore."

You whine as Gojo pinches your cheek. You swat his hand away. He relents, knowing you couldn't actually overpower him in any sense. "Fine, Gojo," you mumble.

"Better," Gojo hums. He opens his mouth to say something else, likely some snide comment, but he cuts himself off. He straightens his posture as the two of you stand at the beginning of a dark alleyway. "We're here."

You peer into the deep alleyway. It's dark due to the night, hard to tell what's down there from the entrance. On one side is an abandoned building with a lot of smashed windows, odd scents wafting out of them. On the other is a brothel, muted noises of sex spilling from behind the walls that should be thicker.

You grimace at the noises. You can only imagine what sort of curse spirit has been brought into existence in a place like this. The intense feelings of rage and lust manifesting into a spirit they had to call Gojo to take care of didn't sit right with you.

"Are you okay?" Gojo's surprisingly soft voice brings you out of your daze. You look up at him with big eyes. "You can stay out here if you want. I got it covered."

"No!" You interject without even thinking. Sure, Gojo playfully judges and mocks you, but you know he never means it. Still, you don't want to appear weak in front of him. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. "I'm coming."

"Then come on," he says, returning to his usual cheery voice. He motions for you to follow as he walks into the alley. You do, feeling a shiver run down your spine as the world behind you disappears.

It doesn't take long for a cursed spirit to appear in front of you two. It's big, and radiates a lot of cursed energy. Probably a first grade, nothing Gojo can't handle. It's a variety of shades of red and has weird heart eyes. It has both male and female parts, thankfully not very detailed.

Gojo throws an arm in front of you to distance you from the curse. "Somethings off," he says in a low voice. You couldn't tell. It felt like any other spirit to you.

He tells you to stay put for now before charging at it. He easily dodges all its attacks, weird red and pink mists that sparkle even in the dark light. It goes on for a while before Gojo grows bored and summons his cursed technique.

The curse must be smarter than either of you anticipated. Sensing the special grade sorcerer about to make a move that will easily end the fight, it changes its target to you.

Gojo senses it in no time. He stops his cursed technique before jumping in front of you to protect you. The curse launches its cursed technique again before either of you have time to react.

It somehow seeps into Gojo's limitless, mingling with his senses. His breath grows heavy as his cheeks dust pink.

"Gojo?" you murmur with worry. You reach a hand out for him, unsure of what the curse has done to him.

He turns his back to the cursed spirit, completely ignoring its presence. But you catch the way it snickers and moans behind him.

Gojo looks down at you through his blindfold. You look him up and down for signs of what's happening when you notice the very obvious, big bulge growing under his uniform.

"I'm sorry," he mutters before he has you pinned to the wall in a second. Your breasts press flat against the cold brick wall. You can feel Gojo's hard body pressed against your back as he pins your hands above your head. His bulge presses between your asscheeks.

"Gojo!" You screech when you realize what's happening. He ruts his hips against yours, moaning at the friction. "It- the cursed spirit is getting away!"

He doesn't even look when you turn your head toward the curse fleeing further into the dark alley, right out of sight. Its cursed technique seems to be doing exactly what it wanted.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. His hot breath fans over your ear. He releases your wrists to grab onto your hips with an iron-like hold. He spins you around so you're facing him, slamming your back against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs.

His big hands grab onto the fabric of your shirt. He doesn't bother fumbling with the buttons, opting to tear the fabric right off your body.

"Gojo!" you protest again, trying to grab his attention. "What's happening, why are you-" you ramble in a panic before he cuts you off.

He takes off his blindfold, revealing his shining blue eyes. Only, they aren't shining. They're dull, clouded with lust.

He shoves the fabric into your mouth, shutting you right up. Your protests and building whines turn muffled from the makeshift gag.

"Shh, shh," he coos. His tone was gentle, and it would've made your heart flutter in any other sexual encounter. But his actions and gaze didn't match his soft voice. "Just need to fuck whatever this is out of my system and I'll be all good."

He gets down on his knees in front of you and your eyes go wide. He grabs onto the hem of your skirt, pushing it up so it bunches around your hips. "So glad you wore a skirt today," he purrs. He licks his lips at the clear view of your panties.

He wishes he could savour his time more with you, but he needs this. He grabs your panties and slides them down to rest around your ankles. His eyes turn hungrier as he gazes at your bare cunt.

He turns his eyes up to look at you as a smirk grows on his face. "Already wet?" he taunts. He runs a slender finger over your slit, spreading your slick around. "Does the thought of getting fucked by your mentor like this really arouse you that much?" He lets out a chuckle but it's darker than normal.

He leans in closer to run his tongue along your slit. He laps at your clit while looking up at him. He tightens his grip on your hips when you begin to squirm in his hold.

He pulls back to tut at you when he catches your hand before you can hit him. "Now, now," he taunts. "I'm being nice and patient to prepare you to take my cock. It hurts so bad and is so overwhelming, but I still want to make it feel good for you too. So be a good girl and take it?"

You drop your hand back to your side obediently. You wouldn't say you don't like the way it feels, and when you think about it, you like that it's Gojo and not someone else. Maybe your crush on him never did entirely go away.

No, you're embarrassed it feels so good. He's hardly done anything and you're already worked up. But it still feels wrong, doing it in an alleyway where it feels like you were both forced into doing this.

Your thoughts are cut short when you feel his tongue enter your dripping cunt. Your back arches off the wall, pressing yourself against his face. He smirks against your folds as he wiggles his tongue in deeper, pressing against your gummy walls.

Your hand shoots down to tangle in his white hair. He groans when you tug at his strands. He replaces his tongue with two long fingers, curling them inside you. You can't help but moan lewdly when they hit your g-spot.

Gojo pulls back to look up at your face, stilling his fingers. Tinted cheeks, hooded eyes filled with need that weren't quite as bad as his own. His own face drips your arousal sticking from his nose to his chin. His skilled tongue licks it all clean.

"I think that's enough," he coos. He withdraws his fingers, ignoring the way your cunt clenches to try to keep him inside. He brings his fingers to his lips, humming when he tastes you again. "I think you're wet enough to take me, right babygirl?"

Before he rises back to his feet he grabs onto the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down to rest around your ankles with your panties. "There," he rumbles. "Now I can see your pretty pussy perfectly."

His long fingers dip into the cavern of your mouth - really, an unnecessary move but he likes the way you struggle to fit his fingers and blindfold - to pull out his blindfold. He whips it around to get some of your saliva off before stuffing it in his pocket for now.

"Be vocal for me," he purrs. His large hands plant themselves around your hips and before you can react he has you facing the wall again. "Hits deeper this way," he grunts.

He places one hand on the small of your back to keep you still against the wall even as you try to squirm. You can hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone before leather hits the ground behind you.

Next comes the sound of a zipper before his pants and boxers fall around his thighs. He doesn't bother taking them off any further, groaning the moment his painfully erect cock is freed.

He grabs both of your hips again in a tight hold, pulling your ass away from the wall to stick out. Your breath hitches when you feel the swollen tip tease your slick entrance. "It's okay," he soothes, but there's something else in his voice, no doubt the result of the cursed technique. "I'll try to go as slow as I can, make it feel good for you too."

At a slow, almost tender pace he easily slides his dick inside your warm cunt. He lets out a loud moan when his tip is fully inside. He hooks his knees between yours to keep your thighs spread when you try to close them. You can't see the size or shape of his dick, but he feels big. Even being so turned on the stretch still hurts.

He presses his back against your chest for a better angle. He continues to slide his cock in inch by inch. "Almost there," he grunts. "Fuckk," he groans when his cock is fully seated between your walls.

You can feel his mushroom tip brushing against your cervix. He's even longer than he is thick. You can feel his tip kiss your cervix with every slow thrust he starts with.

"Feels good now, yeah?" he asks. Your walls flutter as any pain disappears. When you nod he begins to rut his hips faster. You can feel the snap of his hips against your ass with every thrust as he speeds up to an ungodly pace.

He's fucking you on a primal level at this point. You can't help but blame the cursed spirit. His slow, caring pace has been replaced with fast and hard thrusts. His heavy balls slap against your clit with every movement.

"Fuckkk," he draws out in a loud moan. His hands move away from your hips to grab your bra clasp. He undoes it, but leaves the article hanging loosely on your arms.

He reaches around to toy with your breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching your nipples. He smirks at the way your back arches from his touch. His lips move to your neck to suck on the sensitive flesh. He nips wildly, leaving marks.

His thrusts become erratic and even faster if possible. Of course it is, it's Satoru Gojo. "I'm close," he grunts right next to your ear. "Gonna cum inside, kay?"

You can't respond, too fucked out. He can tell by the way you're a moaning mess, tongue lulled out of the mouth. He's glad you can't protest, wanting to cum inside you bad.

His thrusts become sloppy, hips rutting into your ass at uneven pace. He can feel the tightening in his balls. He lets go of your tits, grabbing your hip with one hand. His other hand snakes around your front to rub your clit.

"Come on, cum too," he growls. His tip hits the perfect spot inside your gummy walls even with his sloppy pace. The added stimulation on your clit is all you need.

You cum all around his cock, clenching down on his length like a vice. He hisses in pleasure as he feels the sticky liquid coat his cock. "Good girl," he coos. He retracts his hand from your clit but keeps thrusting, needing his own release.

His hands grab your hips hard, bruising them. The way your pussy clenches from your orgasm sends him over the edge. He releases his load inside your cunt as he continues to thrust, fucking his cum into you.

He pants as he eases his hold on your hips. He slowly withdraws his softening cock from your pulsating walls. He looks down with satisfaction from the sight of your combined cum dripping down your thighs and onto the ground.

He pulls up his own pants and boxers to tuck his dick back inside. He crouches down behind you to pull up your skirt and panties, trapping his cum inside of you. He clasps your bra for you.

He spins you around to face him, looking with some guilt at your spent face. He strokes your cheek so you gaze up at him with hazy eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he repeats.

"I'll take you back to your house and get you all cleaned up," he reassures. "Then I'll come back to get the cursed spirit on my own after."

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first thing i've written in a while (first thing on this blog)!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #tw.dubcon #sex pollen #gojo satoru x reader

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luvyunjinxo · 1 year

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miyawaki sakura the death of me

CW: my imagine haha, g!p sakura, caught s3x, schoolgirls, & rough sakura

guys I actually CAN'T stop thinking about what all the things g!p miyawaki sakura could do to me. like just imagine you both are in like korean/japanese school uniforms (stop because THATS SO HOT TO ME WHAT?) and like you both secretly just fuck in a classroom trying not to get caught like huh..

and I know she's not the type to get rough BUT I really can't help but think of her being rough too. just her pounding into you with her hand covered around your mouth and you can't do anything else because your hands are tied behind your back while she just slams into you ⁉️ .

literally mocks every single word you stutter out because your so fucked out and just needed a good lesson all just cause you would never listen to her & you would just be a brat 24/7.

"yeah you wanted to come? too fucking bad" while she pulls out HUH. I know these thoughts are so basic but it's what I daydream of ..

basically you really needing a constant reminder of who you belong to, or getting put in your place by mommy sakura.

moans literally filling the room and as soon as you guys get caught from a teacher? yeah time to run away. so worth it though. but of course, you guys continued and you continued to get pounded on the bed for hours with countless moaning and begging<3.

#fypシ #kpop smut #le sserafim smut #wlw smut #kaylas imagines #sakura x female reader #sakura miyawaki #sakura miyawaki smut #miyawaki sakura smut #le sserafim sakura smut #sakura le sserafim smut #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim hard hours #lesbian #le sserafim #smut #fem reader #le sserafim sakura #lsfm

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dwreader · 1 year

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Claudia’s sailor dress and historical references.

While a staple of childhood fashion among royalty and aristocrats for decades (Queen Victoria put her son in one in 1846 and set the trend for wealthy parents), the sailor dress for teenage girls was popularized in America in the 1900s by tailor Peter Thomson of Philadelphia. Louis who keeps up with fashion trends would’ve known immediately what to put his new baby in as this was THE look for little girls in the 1910s. It was eventually accepted as school wear for girls which is ironic since Claudia doesn't go to school or interact with other kids at all at this point. They are now largely associated with schoolgirls and uniforms.

While the majority of these childhood sailor photoshoots available online are of white kids, you can also find some examples of black children dressed in sailor fits from early 20th century so this was not exclusively a white kids only trend, which Louis surely would've been very conscious of.

#iwtv #that second pic is the romanov sisters btw not to be morbid #but maybe intentional given the year claudia was made 1917 #👀👀👀#also i think florence def dressed up the kids in these sailor clothes for photoshoots when they were little #costume analysis

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matttgirlies · 5 months

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Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 10

It was the era of the Polaroid and the beginning of videotape. He was the director and I his star acting out fantasies. We dressed up and undressed, played and wrestled, told stories, acted out our fantasies, and invented scenes. Whether it was dressing up in my school uniform and playing at being a sweet, innocent schoolgirl, or a secretary coming home from work and relaxing in the privacy of her own bedroom, or a teacher seducing her student, we were always inventing new stories, and eventually, I learned what stimulated Matt the most.

Almost every night I made quick trips to the local drugstore to buy considerable amounts of Polaroid film. Some of the cashiers knew me, and I wondered if they suspected what we were doing.

I put on dark glasses to “disguise” myself, but ended up looking even more conspicuous as I’d sweetly request twelve packs of Polaroid film while making excuses like, “Gee, the others must have been defective. I just can’t seem to get them to come out right,” or “You’re not going to believe this, but someone stole my film.”

Making it in and out of Graceland was no easy feat, either. I’d pass Mr. Stall at the gate at odd hours of the night, smiling and waving hello, returning shortly with the same smile and the same wave. I was sure he harbored some suspicious thoughts about what I was doing.

Matt laughed when I told him. “It’s all in your mind. He’s no more thinking anything than a dog sleeping.”

“Well, what if he starts spreading rumors, like I go out at night?”

“It might create some excitement around here. This town’s dead. Boston needs a little gossip!”

Matt and I both loved creating these sexual fantasies and it seemed to bring us closer together. I had no previous sexual experience to compare with his inventive sexuality and I was ready to indulge him any way I could. Being in the fast lane, he was exposed to every pleasure available in life. Ordinary thrills sometimes were not enough, especially when he was under the influence of powerful drugs.

At first I was totally open to Matt and many of his ideas. I lived for those moments we were alone. I was careful to say little that might jeopardize my bond with him. I fulfilled his needs, and his beliefs became mine. Under no circumstances were his ideas or playfulness perverted or in any way harmful.

A few days after he came home, he led me to his long black limousine and we sped off to one of Boston’s most exclusive boutiques on Union Street for some after-hours shopping, just as we’d done in Las Vegas. While the boys milled around the shop and the store’s sales staff tried to look nonchalant, Matt got a big kick out of having me model dozens of stunning dresses and suits and coats that were so stylish I was doubtful I could wear them. I was still an insecure teenager.

“Matt,” I said, wearing a sexy gold lamé gown that clung to my every curve, “these clothes are too sophisticated for me.”

“Sophisticated?” he said, regarding me admiringly. “What’s sophisticated? You could go around wearing a feather and that would be sophisticated.”

“Well, bring me a feather then.”

We spent four hours at that shop and during that time, I had a personalized lesson in the Matt Sturniolo Fashion Course.

As I tried on dress after dress, Matt delivered a running commentary on color. He liked me in red, blue, turquoise, emerald green, and black and white—the same colors he himself wore. He liked solids only, declaring that large prints took away from my looks. “Too distracting,” he said. He hated browns and dark green, colors inextricably associated in his mind with the Army.

Exhausted and a little confused about my new look, I walked out of the shop dressed in a sleek black linen suit with four-inch highheeled shoes to match. With Matt sitting proudly beside me, the guys loaded the trunk of the limo with armfuls of packages, and I felt very special.

Back at Graceland he had me model all my new clothes again for Grandma, who patiently sat through a long two hours of changes. I was Matt’s doll, his own living doll, to fashion as he pleased.

It was the early sixties, when clothes and makeup veered to extremes. Women’s eyeliner was heavier, their hair more teased, and their skirts shorter than ever before. All the rules I’d learned about dressing and applying makeup (less is more, the simpler the better) were being broken, and men seemed to love it. Matt certainly did. If I went a little light with the mascara or black eyeliner, he’d send me back upstairs to apply it more heavily.

Matt liked long hair. When I’d cut mine without asking his permission, he was shocked.

“How could you cut your goddamn hair? You know I like long hair. Men love long hair.”

He wanted it long and jet black, dyed to match his because, as he said, “You have pretty eyes, baby. Black hair will make your eyes stand out more.” He made a lot of sense to me and soon my hair was dyed jet black, like his.

The more we were together the more I came to resemble him in every way. His tastes, his insecurities, his hang-ups—all became mine.

For instance, high collars were his trademark, not because he especially liked them, but because he felt his neck looked too long. He never felt comfortable unless he was in a customized high-collared shirt, though in a pinch he’d turn the collar up on a regular shirt as he had when he was in school.

When he told me that the collar I was wearing on a particular blouse was too small for my “long, skinny neck,” I too began wearing high-collared shirts. Why not? My sole ambition was to please him, to be rewarded with his approval and affection. When he criticized me, I fell to pieces.

The Pygmalion nature of our relationship was a mixed blessing. The most fundamental thing at this stage in our life together was that Matt was my mentor, someone who studied my every gesture, listened critically to my every utterance, and was generous, to a fault, with advice.

When I did something that wasn’t to his liking, I was corrected. It is extremely difficult to relax under such scrutiny. Little escaped him. Little except the most salient fact of allthat I was a volcano about to erupt.

There were evenings when he’d send me back upstairs to change clothes because my choice was “dull,” “unflattering,” or “not dressy enough” for him. Even the way I walked came under review; he told me to move more slowly, and for a short while, he had me walking around the house with a book on my head.

I appreciated his interest, but I hated having to hear him remind me of my shortcomings so many times, and each time having to promise him that he’d never have to tell me again.

Would I ever be able to live up to his vision of how his ideal woman should behave and appear? She had to be sensitive, loving, and extremely understanding, meeting unusual demands any average woman might reject. This included being left behind when he made spur-of-the-moment, questionable “business” trips.

She had to be pretty and she had to possess an offbeat sense of humor to survive all the joking at Graceland. Often I’d walk into Sunday afternoon football gatherings and hear inside jokes about the cute all-American cheerleaders. Eventually I found myself thinking like one of the guys. “Nice tits and ass,” I’d say to myself. “A little heavy in the thighs, but the face makes up for it.”

Matt had a strong aversion to wearing jeans. As a poor boy, he had no choice but to wear them and he never wanted to lay eyes on another pair. That applied to everyone in the group.

His firm ideas on my wardrobe didn’t make it easy for me to go out and buy clothes for myself. One day I came home proud of a dress I’d just bought and couldn’t wait to put on. I knew he didn’t like prints, but this was a blackand-white flowered silk that I thought very special.

The first words out of his mouth when he saw me were: “That dress doesn’t suit you. Does nothing for you. Takes away from your face, your eyes. All you see’s the dress.”

As he tore me apart I started to cry. “Are you quite finished?” I inquired. I didn’t give him a chance to answer, bolting for my bathroom and slamming the door.

A few minutes later I heard his voice from the other side of the door: “You gotta keep away from those large prints. You’re a small girl, Sattnin.”

I opened the bathroom door and snapped, “Okay, I’ll return the fuckin’ dress.”

Matt fell to the floor laughing; eventually I joined in, unable to stop myself. Once again I’d compromised my own taste.

He ignored no aspect of my appearance, including my teeth. He took me to his dentist, told him to clean my teeth and give me a thorough examination. He was to look for probable cavities only and should I need any fillings, they were to be made of white porcelain. To him a mouth loaded with gold or silver was an eyesore.

He was equally fanatical about posture. If I slumped, he’d straighten my back. When I’d look up at him and wrinkle my forehead, he’d smooth it out—or tap it—telling me not to get in that habit. I didn’t like him rapping me, so I learned that one fast.

When we came home from the movies one night, I was getting ready for bed and he was in his office playing the piano. I came in to listen, propping my foot on the bench where he was sitting. He looked down at a small chip in my nail polish and I immediately withdrew my foot from the bench and started making up excuses about why it wasn’t fixed. “I’m going to have my pedicure tomorrow,” I promised.

“Good,” he said, “cause that doesn’t look like my Little Girl’s. You should always keep them looking nice.”

I was leading a double life—a schoolgirl by day, a femme fatale by night. Our evening appearance downstairs usually resembled a grand entrance. Even when our only intention was to have dinner, we always dressed for the occasion. Matt might wear a three-piece suit with a brocade vest and a Stetson hat. Under his coat he always carried a gun. He’d given me a small pearl-handled derringer and I carried it in my bra or tucked it into a holster around my waist. We were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

Matt loved films, and we went to the Memphian almost every night. He was still renting the whole house after regular hours since he couldn’t attend a movie without being mobbed. One of the guys always lined up several films in case Matt didn’t like one of them or decided to see as many as three or four in a row. We usually arrived around midnight, our limousine pulling around to the back of the Memphian. From there we’d proceed into the side door like a royal couple leading their court.

Already seated in the theater were the usual crowd of thirty to fifty local friends and fans. Matt always sat in the same seat—with Nate Doe to his right, me to his left.

Before calling “Roll ’em!” he looked around the theater to make sure everyone was seated. He was an acutely aware person and could immediately spot any unwanted or unfamiliar faces. If any new faces were sitting too close to him, Matt suggested they move elsewhere. He was more lenient with the girls. He might not demand they move but he certainly wanted to know who they were, and should they object to being asked for this information or smart off in any way, he would not hesitate to have one of the boys escort them out, telling them never to come back.

There were times Matt rented the entire Boston Fairgrounds after closing and we all spent hours on our favorite rides. We tried such daredevil feats on the roller-coaster as seeing who could stand the longest with both arms outstretched as it whipped and twisted around the track again and again.

Matt loved the bumper cars and would team up with the entourage against some locals. They’d spend the night seemingly trying to kill each other, laughing and bruising themselves like tough little boys while we girls watched and cheered them on. After several hours my own enthusiasm waned.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - hope u enjoyed this chapter!!🎀

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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horse-girl-anthy · 11 months

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Mikage: Boy of the Black Rose

I've long struggled to write about Mikage, who I find to be an intriguing yet elusive character. or rather, his character is understandable--his motives and feelings are communicated clearly enough--but his narrative is one of the most inexplicable in RGU. thinking it over tonight, I put my finger on one aspect of the Black Rose arc which I previously didn't know how to approach: specifically, Mikage's relationship with the Boys of the Black Rose.

the boys act as a kind of collective character, a mass of faceless people who whisper in dark corners. since RGU is about social reality, it often uses extras to deliver exposition or set the mood. the Shadow Girls are meta characters, existing somewhat outside the narrative, but regular schoolgirls at Ohtori can serve a similar purpose. they might demonstrate that Touga and Saionji are considered the hottest boys in school, or gossip about Ruka and Shiori's recent breakup.

the Boys of the Black Rose are slightly different, maybe a little closer to the Shadow Girls. rather than acting as bit characters in the larger world of Ohtori campus, I believe their existence is contigent on Mikage. while this could be put in various ways, in the most straightforward terms, the writers created them to help reflect on Mikage's character.

only one Black Rose Boy is given a face: the first one Mikage (Nemuro) talks to. when Mikage asks not to be called "professor," since they are the same age, the boy replies:

obviously, RGU relies on making its main characters visually distinct from "normal people." Wakaba calls them "special" and resents them. Utena is popular for her specialness, well-liked; in contrast, Mikage is an outcast for his. for a person to be special or a genius, there must be others for them to stand in opposition to. Mikage is set apart from his peers by his pink hair, by his unique uniform, and by being a professor.

after Mikage is introduced to his new work, the boys begin to gossip about him, saying he knows nothing about what's really going on at Ohtori. towards the end of this conversation, there's a shot of Mikage, and then he actually replies from the future to the gossip they were spreading about him.

this is Mikage's eternal reality: his recollection of the past. even during the "present" of Utena's narrative, he is still walking through Nemuro Memorial Hall, which is why it's still standing, unburned. the Boys of the Black Rose that the audience sees are filtered through Mikage's memory; whether or not the boys really said these things about him is ambiguous. it's possible, but the important fact is that Mikage believes they did.

this transpersonal mirroring keeps Mikage trapped, unchanging. he feels himself defined as unable to connect with others, so he keeps away from them. this becomes a self-perpetuating cycle, leaving Mikage a total outcast.

even outcasts, however, are members of society. the Boys of the Black Rose actually have more in common with Mikage than the average Ohtori student. they're all scientists working on the same project. they have much of his coldness, sense of superiority, and intellectualism. the main difference is that they're the in-group.

while Mikage believes himself to be emotionless, it's made clear that his social isolation hurts him. he doesn't want to be set apart, but he doesn't know how to break through the barrier between him and others. it's very easy to do a queer reading of the character, given the way this is conveyed to the audience.

Mikage's fixation on Tokiko and Mamiya is easier to undestand with all this in mind. the world he was living in, occupied by the Boys of the Black Rose, was a cold and alienated one. in contrast, Tokiko has genuine passion, caring for her brother deeply. Tokiko's tears move Mikage, allowing his own buried emotions to break through the surface. but she also reinforces his social isolation; he is equally as hurt by her as he is drawn to her.

this is part of why Mikage is so determined to "defeat" Tokiko; she offered him hope of connection, but he was never able to "win" her, as men so often try to do with women.

Mamiya is something else altogether; a boy, like Mikage and the Black Rose Boys, but altogether different. warm, friendly to Mikage, not intimidated by his intelligence or reputation, and insightful. in a show full of characters obsessed with holding on (to the past, to a person, to their self-image), Mamiya is the only one who can see the wisdom in letting go.

Mikage at first is open to Mamiya's words, preparing to call off their quest for eternal life. but like every character who threatens the system in RGU, he is faced with Akio. in a prototype of the later "End of the World" sequences, Mikage comes across the kissing Tokiko and Akio. this proves to be too much for him; there are some things he can't afford to lose.

the scene has significance to Mikage far beyond disappointment in love. he wanted to create a family with Tokiko and Mamiya; marriage to Tokiko would tie them together "forever." if he could be by Tokiko's side as they lost Mamiya, then at least he wouldn't be alone after his death. but if he's only Tokiko's coworker, when their work is done, he's back to being a computer.

in desperation, Mikage plays into Akio's hands. under contract, he sacrifices the Boys of the Black Rose and burns down the hall that bears his name. when justifying himself to Tokiko, he claims that this act will allow them to attain eternity. in the events of the series, he's still at it: installing Mamiya as the Rose Bride will, after all, make him eternal, even though it's the very kind of eternity Mamiya wanted nothing to do with.

Mikage retreats into delusions on feeling the sting of Tokiko's rejection. though he is the one who betrayed her, he turns it around and feels betrayed himself. going even further, he casts Mamiya as the one who set the fire.

the Boys of the Black Rose are also used to emphasize his inability to face his own actions. throughout the arc, the boys are seen pushing coffins around. however, in episode 23, Mikage takes their place right before he is forced to face the truth about himself.

at the end of the arc, Miki claims that no one was hurt in the the fire, contradicting the previous story of Nemuro Memorial Hall. this possibly indicates that the murders are a figment of Mikage's imagination--the older Tokiko doesn't seem to react to him as if he's a murderer. more than anything, he seems guilty of self-denial and retreat from reality. Tokiko went on to accept Mamiya's death and even mourned for Mikage, while he ignored her in favor of his memories. the fact that he does not recognize her feelings is another aspect of his tragedy.

Mikage, through his fruitless revolution, loses the very things he always wanted. he attempts to throw away his past self, the cocoon of Nemuro hatching into the butterfly that is Mikage. with it, he burns away the boys who rejected him, who embodied the cold world he used to live in. he uses their sacrifice to enshrine Mamiya, idealizing him as the perfect companion. but as Ikuhara said, he was doomed to fail from the start:

Those who reject that place are, conversely, rejected by it as well. This is the nature of systems: the moment you reject them, you are forced to realize that they’re the very ground you’re standing on. Mikage noticed the trick behind the system, and he hurriedly attempted revisions. But the adult who’d created the system just said “Let’s not,” and unilaterally brought the curtain down.

the "trick within the system," is, I think, the fact that it's socially constructed. Mikage believed that on realizing this, he could simply remake the world as he wanted. he was allowed to do so for a time, when it was useful. when he ceased to be useful, he was dispatched with, because while he had operated within the system, he was not in control of it. and beneath his delusions, there was still a reality.

Mikage is the true Boy of the Black Rose: the true ghost, the true sacrifice, living in the desiccated world of a preserved flower. throughout the arc, he takes possession of Ohtori students who suffer from the same afflictions as him, and every time Utena defeats one of his duelists, another part of him is exorcised--another Black Rose Boy burned away. in the end, the only thing left of him is the ruin of Nemuro Memorial Hall, shown briefly in the final episode. he graduates at Ohtori, but only after losing absolutely everything. that seems to be the only way to step into adulthood: naked and shivering, like the day we are born.

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #commentary

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mxiaogod · 2 years

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— 13. [TERCEIRA] MIKASA ACKERMAN AU X FEM! AFAB READER

Warnings : OLDER MIKASA! Infidelity, lap dance, masturbation, gun play, drinking, NSFW (DNI IF YOU AREN’T 18+)

A/N: I'd fist fight that bitch eren for this mf.

— Your phone rings for the third time, buzzing on your pillow beside your head as you watch your husband get ready for work, you catch a glimpse of the caller ID, Mikasa, sending a pleasurable zap down the length of your spine. Your husband was an influential person, and bodyguards were not new to you, you had gone through a lot of them before your husband deemed you were relevant enough to assign you one of the Ackermans, the finest in their league.

"Who's calling you? " He inquires, and you respond, "Book club, I was scheduled to go today but I'm feeling under the weather," with a sickeningly sweet grin. You weren’t supposed to be in contact with her, you both signed an NCA, your husband was the only one who got to make calls.

You answer the phone on the third ring, "It's your day off today," you say low, your voice tinged with feigned displeasure. You turn your back on your spouse, facing the other side of the room, enough to allow you privacy for your conversation. "I'm aware," she responded.

“Why do you keep calling?” You hushed, “Hm, why do you keep answering?” She retorted with a low laugh and you blanked.

“Come on, are you really going to put me off again? You get like this every time.” She said, her voice strained and annoyed. “We both know you’re going to cave in for me, every fucking time.” She adds.

“Stop-” Before you could process a response, she spoke again. “Your husband is in the room with you, isn’t he?”

"Yes." You kept your response brief. "I'm guessing you told him it was book club? " She chuckled at your revelation, before you heard shuffling around, and she said, "I'll do the talking then? I feel like reminiscing today, shall we? " You didn't get the chance to disagree because she continued speaking.

"Do you realize how much I miss you? " She stops and takes a deep breath. "I'll never forget the third day of working for you, baby." You sat up on the bed, phone buried between your ears and shoulders.

You hum as a response as you pick the scab on your nails. “It happened so fast, don't you remember? You snuck off on me, went to a club and I found you, I always will.”

“After I found you, you looked so- carefree, so I sat down with you and played three rounds of black jack with you, I kept winning and in exchange you gave me a lap dance.” You hear ice clink against a glass, she’s drinking, you figured. “The most unforgettable and expensive lap dance of my life.” You remembered, vividly even, she was going to take it easy on you and make you win, but after you had tipsily offered her a lap dance as a joke, she made it her life goal to win against you.

"Do you want a lap dance from me? " You mumbled tipsily, giggling like a schoolgirl. Mikasa glanced at you, resting on the velvet sofa of the vip area, you thanked your husband for the ridiculous panty dropper uniforms your body guards wore, tailored suits and ties, her combat boots seeming mismatched against the red carpeted flooring of the club, inked skin protruding out of her unbuttoned dress shirt and rolled up sleeves.

"Sure" she played off, pretending she was cool but on the inside, she never realized winning black jack by card counting could feel so rewarding.

You placed your pointer finger on the side of your lips, thinking. “Oh! But it’s going to cost you.” you exclaimed, and she scoffed, a smirk painting her lips.

“I don’t know sweet girl, seems a little unfair to me, considering you owe me 500 dollars after losing.”

“But I’ll take your offer.” She said, lithe fingers loosening her tie, her short dark hair messily framing her face after losing her mind searching for you. Pouty lips so kissable as she wets them with her tongue, silver glinting against the mundane lights.

The already sensual music helped you figure the flow of your body, a satin dress a tad bit short for your milky thighs tested Mikasa’s self control. She was a very patient woman, but you, you were her doom, her divinity.

You grinded on her lap, kissed her neck even and pulled away taking a lungful of oxygen away from her. You swayed your body along to the music that made Mikasa snap. You were so beautiful, the epitome of her downfall.

She lost three grand that night, all because you were so demanding, but she was willing to give you any money you wanted for your dance to last as long as she wanted before giving in to her desires.

You were bare, laying on the cold glass center table in no time, pierced tongue flicking against your clit, the cold ball enhancing the pleasure of her pointed tongue bringing tears to your eyes. Dulcet moans bouncing against the velvet walls, your warm palm clutching a bundle of her hair, the pull making her hiss.

She stands up, running her gaze from your face, before dropping her head down and sucking your nipples until they’re so swollen and drenched with her saliva, your lip is caught between your teeth, red and inviting.

She untucks the gun from her waistband, before placing the cold barrel on the under of your jaw and your eyes immediately widen.

“No fingers for you yeah? Only my gun, this is for running away from me, bad girls don’t deserve my fingers.” The cold barrel dragging along the center of your body, to your sternum down to your navel, before making contact with your swollen clit.

Drenched in your own fluid, the contrast of the cold barrel and the searing pleasure on your clit made you gasp, and pull away, but Mikasa’s free arm was wrapped around the plush of your thigh, preventing you from running away.

“Shh” She cooes, as she lubricates the muzzle with your wetness, dripping down and webbing on your skin, onto the glass table.

“Gonna fuck this pussy until s’ the shape of my gun.”

She retells the entire ordeal exactly how it went down, from the scent you were wearing, down to the brand of your clothing and heels.

You'd already transferred to the guest room, swiftly sliding your chemise up your breast and shoving your hand down your lace underwear, fingers feverishly pressing on your clit, but it was pointless; Mikasa was the only one who could do it, not even your husband.

It was as if she had branded you, as if she owned you. You were untouchable while under Mikasa Ackerman's care, and that made you feel privileged and treasured.

Your tiny gasps engulfs Mikasa’s ears as she takes a long drag of her cigarette, “Aw baby, are you touching yourself? Let me hear it.” She urges, and you let your moans escape freely, it’s like she can feel your hot pants of breaths ghosting the shell of her ears.

“Come on love, you can do it, yeah? Make yourself come for me.” And you circle your clit even faster, one finger entering the warmth of your pussy. Mikasa swore she could get to you in three minutes tops despite being far away from you, the squelches of your pussy resounding against the speaker of her phone was like a piece of meat on a stick, taunting her.

“Du klingst so schön.” She mutters, voice raspy and low, it sends pleasure straight down your clit making you bite down on the lace hem of your chemise, back arching as you cum, making your brain fuzzy and warm, toes digging on the linen of the bed.

“Good girl, there we go.”

“The thought of your body makes my brain blank, meine Liebe. No thoughts, only desire and the pain of waiting.”

You gasp, chest caving in and out you can almost feel it collapsing from the euphoria. You loved the thrill of the rush with Mikasa, it makes you feel at liberty, so unfettered.

“I’ll see you again, on Wednesday, until then, use one of your bitch girls to pleasure you or something." You pant out, voice barely above whisper despite your moans earlier, your cheeks painted crimson by the act you had just committed.

"Or something" she breaths.

"'None of them are you, so none of them matters." She whispers under her breath, your heart thudding, you hold a hand out to it, as if it's going to stop it from beating too fast and loud until Mikasa could hear it.

You digress.

“And stop calling me, we’re going to get caught, if you do, I’ll block you, and change numbers.” you follow up. “Are you threatening me?” She asks, humor intertwining with her raspy voice.

“That isn’t a threat, it’s a promise, Ackerman.” You reply, fighting back a smile on your face, you knew you were too boneless to do that to her.

“Don’t bother blocking my number princess.”

She pauses for a minute, silence deafening, replacing the sound of her voice with ringing against your ear.

“We both know you’ll always answer on the third ring.” Terceira.

#mikasa #mikasa x you #mikasa x reader #mikasa smut #shingeki no kyoujin manga #shingeki no kyoujin #aot #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujiin smut #mikasa x female reader #art by u/x0madara0x on r3dd1t

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mortallyscrumptiousmilkshake · 2 years

Text

.:. The Queen meets the King .:.

When König entered the room, all eyes were on him. Price had told his team that someone new was arriving, but no one had seen this mystery person till now. König's eyes scanned the room, falling easily on you. Clad in beige gear that resembled a desert, goggles red and striking like a scorpion's tail. You were shorter than the men in the room, but your gear kept your gender hidden. And that was the point, König surmised. The line of work you did was all about secrets and covert happenings. But you still intrigued him. Later on, he realised you stayed mostly with Ghost, attached to his hip almost. It was hard to talk to you without Ghost observing. König was already one anxious bubble waiting to burst, Ghost's watchful eyes didn't help.

It wasn't until the two of you were paired together for missions that he was able to talk to you, slowly gaining confidence. And when one mission was set back, stuck in a safe house underground for days is when you revealed yourself. König's eyes were wide from shock and he felt like a schoolgirl looking at their crush.

"Wow."

You looked at him with a small smile, having heard his awestruck comment. But you couldn't see his face, which König was all too thankful for.

"Entschuldi- I'm sorry."

"I like a compliment as much as any other," you teased him in your sing-song voice, which made him tense up. Most of your gear was within reach should anything happen, but it was a heavy burden to carry for days on end, both mentally and physically. So you both opted to just wear your simple combat uniforms.

"You're injured, let me look at it."

König didn't even notice he was injured, the ache in his arm had become dull and almost invisible except when he moved. He wanted to argue, to not let you touch him, that he would be alright until you got back to the base, but you weren't deterred. You never let your teammates suffer. He didn't want to, but ultimately he knew you were right. He sat down on the sofa. You gasped at the large bullet wound just below his shoulder as you moved his jacket slightly.

»Why did you wait, König…«

»It's alright, Schatz.«

He saw the anger flash in your eyes, but neither of you said anything more on the topic. You rummaged for more first aid items, König having taken off his shirt to give you better access when you weren't looking. Your feet nearly gave out from under you at the sight of him, your heart plummeting into your nether regions and back into your throat. Putting all your dirty thoughts away for later, you began by disinfecting the wound and numbing the surrounding area. With quick and agile hands, you were able to pull out the bullet in one piece, wiping away the blood that trickled down his chest. His other hand rested on his knee, his thumb running up and down your leg almost in secret. It brought him comfort that you were so close. Stitching and bandaging the wound, you heaved a heavy sigh.

»There, but you need to see the doc when we're back.«

A chuckle escaped him, "will you be my nurse?"

When you didn't answer, he looked up at you with worried eyes, but that all melted away when he saw your warm yet teasing smile. His hand which was secretly caressing your thigh earlier was now holding onto it for dear life, squeezing the supple flesh every now and then.

"I don't have the costume though."

König wasn't used to flirting. He had been with others before, but usually, it was without emotions, without feelings, just carnal desires in the darkness. But none of them flirted, they were all afraid of him, the mask, his warded stance. But you weren't. You learned a long time ago not to judge a book by its cover. When you arrived at Task Force 141, you had an all but amicable relationship with Ghost—always glaring at you for some reason or another. It's when you saved his life in an ambush that he finally gained respect for you and your skills. And you'd been inseparable since. But König needed to understand the nature of your relationship, the last thing he wanted to do was get in the middle of it. Ghost looked like he would kill him if you were hurt in any way.

Throughout the day, the two of you flirted while talking about everyday things. You explained the dynamic of the team, explained their characters, so König could be more relaxed around them. But then you asked him if he had anyone waiting for him at home and it prompted a solemn silence.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Nein- no. It's okay. Most people don't ask, they just assume that…"

"Most people lack common sense. It's easy to see what's on the surface and pass judgment on it."

After a long pause, he answered your question nonetheless: "no, no one is waiting. You?"

That moment he waited with bated breath, ready to have his hopes crushed under the weight of your answer.

"No. A long time ago, I had someone. But he found other people to occupy himself with when I was away. It's why I joined 141, I needed a fresh start."

"And Ghost?"

You knew the question would pop up sooner or later. You were constantly with Ghost, never separated for more than an hour during the days when it was quiet. Everyone knew to stay away from you because of the looming presence that just screamed danger if you listened closely. You smiled at the fond memories.

"Ghost and I are friends. But he's nice to have around if I want people to leave me alone."

You chuckled at the image of Ghost as an angry chihuahua that barked and bared its teeth at everyone and everything. König said nothing as a reply, deciding rather to mull things over in silence. You found a book to occupy yourself with afterwards.

When you returned to the base after the successful mission, you noticed König was hanging around you more often. And you smiled particularly wide every time he approached you. You had even begun learning German whenever you could, Soap and Gaz teasing you every time they saw you with a children’s book and a dictionary. One evening, König loudly announced his disapproval of their teasing and added a few curse words in German to prove a point that they were uncultured when it came to language. You understood him and watched him sit opposite of you, taking the book from your grasp.

“Ich kenne dieses Buch nicht… Ist es gut?”

“Ja, ich mag es.” You slid closer to him with a teasing smile. “Ich mag den König auch.”

He chuckled and wordlessly wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you flush against the side of his warm body.

“Vielleicht wird die Prinzessin am Ende der Geschichte zur Königin.”

#konig x reader #konig fluff #konig imagine #konig modern warfare #cod mw2 2022 #cod mw2 imagine #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod konig #konig #könig cod #not my gif

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

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Blankets - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @annetje @abby2 @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @vannabanana1995 @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @est1887 @lilvampirina @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @oureternalbond @beccabarba

When Bishop first meets you, he isn’t at his best. He’s exhausted, the stench of smoke and cordite clinging to his skin. He’s seen too much tonight; he just wants to go home and drink himself into oblivion, but he can’t because now there’s a kid involved that he has to do right by.

When he’d heard that there was a stash house in his backyard he was pissed. He thought the club had sent a clear message the last time Vatos Malditos had encroached on their territory, but apparently, he had been wrong. They’d expected drugs, a little smack, a couple of kilos of coke but they hadn’t expected the kid. He’d known they were into some dark shit but trafficking kids for sex…

Putting bullets in those animals had been way too fucking quick.

They’d found the kid cowering in the corner of a princess themed bedroom, nine years old he guessed, hair in pigtails, a schoolgirl’s uniform with a skirt that was far too short and a tie that was far too low. They’d tried talking to her in English and then in Spanish, it wasn’t until Bishop saw her hand gestures that he realised she was deaf. He couldn’t imagine how fucking terrifying that must have been, to be at the hands of monsters with no way to communicate, to have your voice stripped away from you. He knew a little sign language; he’d started learning when Aidan had been diagnosed with hearing difficulties. He’s rusty has fuck but he manages to tell the girl she’s safe, that no one in this room is going to hurt her, she signs back to him quickly, too quicky and he has to hold his hands up so that she understands that he’s a novice.

He discovers her name is Mari and she sticks to him like glue after that. He’s forced to ride in the van with Creeper because she refuses to let him out of her sight.

It’s Coco that suggests taking her to the community centre. Stitches has been running a clinic out of there and knows the manager, she’s helped out in situations like this before. It’s a happy place he tells Bishop, kid friendly and they’ve been doing some great work in the community. He can’t stand the idea of just dropping Mari off at social services, so he has Creeper swing by.

You’re waiting by the front door when he arrives. It’s been a while since he has been by this way and the place has changed a lot. Shit has been going downhill since the Galindo Agra Park project stalled and it looks like you’ve stepped up, he notes the additional services that are now on offer. The clothing drives, the food banks, the pop-up children’s library…

All of these things make difference to people who are barely managing to keep themselves afloat.

He thinks he recognises you, but he can’t be sure, it might have been back after Aidan was born and he was taking him to the Tummy Time play sessions. Even back then he knows he would have noticed you. He’d been committed to Antonia, but there was definitely something about you.

“Thanks for helping out with this.” He says, shaking your hand. “I only know a little ASL.”

There’s a thrum of connection there, something he hasn’t felt in years. He almost pulls away, but he finds that he can’t bring himself too. You like him, he’s gruff but earnest. He could have dumped Mari at social services, but he chose to bring her here, to a place that hopefully she’ll feel safe so that you can find out more about her.

Mari refuses to venture anywhere without him, so he finds himself seated on a red bean bag in the children’s library, his motorcycle boots resting on a brightly coloured patchwork rug. It makes his chest ache being back here, it’s different than before but the memories of Aidan, they’re everywhere. When he sees the Gruffalo book, it almost feels like he can’t fucking breathe.

It’s the motion of your hands that distracts him. You’re sitting cross legged on the rug across from Mari, continuing a conversation in ASL. It’s moving too fast for him to follow, but he’s captivated by the flourish of your movements, the speed and grace in them. It’s clear that Mari’s impressed too. The kid has been withdrawn ever since they found her, now she’s animated and rapt. He figures it’s been a long time since anyone’s actually spoke to Mari in her language.

“She says she was brought here by her Uncle.” You tell him later on in the break room, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. “When he couldn’t pay his own fee, he traded her to pay off the rest.”

“Man, that’s fucked up.” He says, his gaze on the young girl curled up under a blanket on the couch. The kid is fast asleep, a stuffed lion clutched to her chest, it breaks his fucking heart. “What’ll happen to her?”

“I have a friend who works at a charity who deals with this sort of thing. She’ll be here in a couple of hours.” You told him with a grimace. “Sadly, it’s more common than you think.”

Bishop sags back in his chair, his head tilting back as he sighs. The world is a fucked up place and he knows that but tonight, somehow it feels a thousands times worse.

“Obispo.” You say his name quietly, your hand coming to rest upon his. It’s warm, your touch. He doesn’t expect it, part of him wants to yank his hand away because that brief moment of connection is too much. He’s been alone for such a long time, he’s forgotten what it feels like to have someone actually give a shit, about him, about the people around them. You could have told him to fuck off tonight, you could have called social services, stayed at home drinking a glass of wine or whatever you did to wind down, but you hadn’t. You’d stepped up and he fucking admired that. “You did a good thing tonight. If you hadn’t found her…”

You let the words trail off because the truth is you can’t bring yourself to say it. He gets that, he doesn’t want to think about it either. He slouches down in his chair, arms crossing over this chest. It’s cold in here, colder than he thought it would be. You’re wearing a black sweatshirt with white stars over your jeans, it clings to your form in a way he tries not to notice. All he has on is a short-sleeved shirt and his kutte.

“I’ll stay until she gets here, your friend.” He says, his gaze coming to rest on Mari as he rubs his hands together to warm them. “I don’t want her to wake up scared.”

“Ok.” You tell him, before snatching up a blanket from the back of the second couch and handing it to him.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t need that.”

“You have goosebumps.” You point out, gesturing at his biceps. “I’m still working on getting the heating fixed but it’s a process…”

He fixes you with a stare, it’s meant to be a glower but you can see the exhaustion in his handsome features, how tired he is both mentally and physically. He’s stubborn, you shouldn’t like that, but you do. You set the blanket down in his lap. He huffs before rolling his eyes and shaking it out. You watch as he tucks it around his chest and upper body, drawing it up to his neck.

“I’m doing this because the heating’s out.” He tells you with a scowl.

“Not because it’s comfortable as fuck,” You summarise. “Yea I think I got it.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you busy yourself collecting the coffee cups and depositing them in the sink.

“You didn’t have to stay you know.” You tell him, glancing at him over your shoulder. “I can keep her company.”

Bishop tilts his head towards the little girl asleep on the couch, he remembers the way she clutched onto his kutte when he helped her to feet, how she refused to let go of his hand when they’d first stepped inside the community centre…

“Yea.” He said, closing his eyes as he hunkers down in the chair. “I do.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#bishop losa x reader #bishop mayans #bishop losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa #mayans fx #mayans mc #mayans

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