I was going to do this at the end of the year, or the end of my school year. But ever sense i made the actual things i want to say, it has been eating at me more to just post it already.
I have a something to confess, and i am going to be posting this on about all platforms i use like this. I have been lying about my age, and some people on discord that i am friends about and talked to know this, though it was about two of them. This is also an apology to those i was friends with on these platforms as well, as i knew i shouldnβt have been dwelling in things i was too young for. On most of these things, i will be making different accounts where i can post more tame things, and be able to happily repost and talk about my friends who may have accounts as well. Yes, this seems like the kind of thing i could just brush off, eventually abandon my account, maybe just not tell anyone, but it was eating away at me and i felt like i had to tell people eventually. By 2025, where i would be starting high school, all accounts i wouldβve had on either discord, tumblr, etc, will be deleted, turned off, i will unfollow all those i was mutuals with, or those i was following in general due to most of them being NSFW, and the accounts will be abandoned. I also advise all those who were following me to stop as well, there are many more writers on here who are of age, actually. I may even make a new gmail, where i will make new accounts like a new start.
Even if i do get towards an age weβre things like i had done before are accepted, i would probably make different accounts where i could do things like that without giving those who follow me whiplash even years later. I donβt want to fully blame everything on things like having lots of internet access when i was young, or being shown things i probably shouldnβt have seen. There was of course a factor of my own fault. Though now, i want to be able to act my own age all the time, and not have to figure out what i get to talk about on my page. I didnβt want to have to figure out when finals were for high schoolers while having to deal with my own homework in middle school just so i could relate to some of my other mutuals who probably barely even cared. Overall, for the last couple years of my childhood, i want to try and actually keep most of it, even if i could stay.
I am sorry to everyone i have lied to, and trust i have probably lost. It may not be a big deal to all those who may be seeing this on their feed, but it is to me.
This will be posted August 21st, and this account will be signed out of by next month, or even earlier, where i will then have another account for myself.
TL;DR, i am a minor and will be leaving the freaky side of tumblr until i am of age
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cw: sub!Mahito, dom!AFAB!Reader, can we even call this pegging, dark content, stabbing, gore, evisceration (kinda), fauxjob, throatfucking (a new definition of it), dawg why did I write this
If youβre a sorcerer, youβre either here against your will, or youβre insane, theyβd said.
Youβre the latter; somethingβs been knocked just slightly off course in your mind to make you say the things you do, act the way you do. You enjoy the job far more than anyone in your field should. While others long to escape, you dream of plunging further in.
And plunge you do, just how the creature beneath you begs, its need for torture insatiable.
Blue hair swings and bobs beneath you, the curseβs throat making way for you as you fuck his mouth like you hate him. You do, you think. Heβs terrific fun, though. Perhaps thatβs why you let him live long enough to have him visit you like this.
He looks up at you, and you donβt like it. You sneer at him, gripping his bangs and shoving his head back downward to keep him from meeting you gaze. A giggle escapes him, cheeky, composed, far too much for your liking. Those sloppy gagging noises please you far more.
He slides off of you with a wet puah sound, tongue still out as he does. He licks his lips.
βWant to see something cool?β
Thatβs never good, coming out of his mouth. You make a face at him, something between a disapproving sneer and an exasperated grimace, lips pulled taut and brow furrowed. But against your better judgement, you nod at him once, the kind of casual βwhatβs upβ motion youβd send his way if you walked past him on the street.
Slender fingers stretch into talons that rend his own flesh, tearing into the soft, yielding skin beneath his chin and ungracefully ripping down and outward, spraying blood with the force of his pull. Skin stretches and tears like a plastic bag, becoming thin and white before it begins to rip. He bleeds profusely down his chest, more so when he reaches in and causes even more aimless damage. No move he makes is calculated; he may as well have stuck a potato masher in there.
Yet you watch, transfixed, and most amazingly, not nauseated by the sight. Your gaze follows in amazement as he draws the cut a little ways down his chest, ripping out anything he can grab that the opening allows. Torn nerves and skin and muscle and part of what you think is his esophagus hang limply outside his body, and he bleeds all over his lap before you, grinning and smug and eager to put on a show.
His tongue lolls out when he opens his jaw, no longer attached to anything except the bottom of his mouth. He swipes it down across his chin, something that shouldnβt be possible, with him having severed its connection in his throat.
And fuck, heβs beautiful.
Mahito shows you what surely awaits you in hell. Heβs a picture of the horrors that plagued the minds of the disturbed across centuries, depicted in paintings of demons and monsters and those meeting their due punishments. Youβre not likely to be grinning that much, but perhaps he knows that, and finds his own pleasure in that knowledge.
He scrambles towards you, bloodied hands clawing up your thighs, and he begs wordlessly. A hand wraps around your toy, sets it against his face. He looks up at you.
βMy, you are a pretty creature, arenβt you?β
Soft, tender hands brush hair from his face as though they love him, a finger sliding underneath to run up the length of the exposed flesh to feel what he feels like on the inside. It presses down on his tongue, cleaning itself of the blood it has collected.
You force your way in, not through his mouth, but now through the new hole he has so graciously made for you.
Warm blood gushes down your thighs and a downright pornographic groan rips from his ruined throat despite his severed vocal cords. For a moment, you actually wonder how it is his body works to make that possible.
He clings to you desperately, begging for more, more, more, holding your waist flush against his opened neck. The fleshy bulge bobbing at the back of his throat bursts with the pressure he forces on it, and the bulbous head of the strap pokes through. It disappears and reappears through a hole in the flesh that doesnβt even appear to be there when you arenβt poking through it, and Mahito seems to revel in having his throat fucked backwards far more than anything else youβve done to him. His eyes roll back and the corners of his lips pull upward, his tongue hanging out and moving a little each time the strap presses against the back of it. Blood and drool pour from his mouth, and he fucks into his fist beneath you like heβs about to burst at the seams.
He looks up at you, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, and a warmth that definitely doesnβt flow like more blood trickles down your leg.
You withdraw, and he looks down at himself for a second. Heβs drenched the both of you in blood but the wound seals in an instant, and he licks his lips and swallows, as if to make sure he put everything back correctly.
You coo at him, tone sickly sweet, feeding him words of hatred and disgust that he eats right up with a grin.
βThat was a lot of fun!β He exclaims, voice light and airy, βbut Iβve done something bad, though, havenβt I?β That familiar cheekiness returns, a telltale sign that he knows heβs not done. But he doesnβt want to be.
βThat you have, boy.β
The curse leans back, gesturing for you to look at the whole expanse of his body.
βSo where do you want me to make the next hole?β
Summary: you are a hardworking doctor who has been stalked by a patient. Now it's time he gets punished for his obsessive behavior.
Contains: sub!male!yandere, really mean dom!reader(gender not specified), degradation, dacryphilia(kinda), lots of begging, praise(if you squint)
A whimper escapes his lips when he sees the huge grin on your face. As you crouch in front of him, he loses his balance and falls on his ass on the floor. You laugh at him, a mix of shame and arousal filling his body to the brim.
"Pleaseee..." he whines again. At how vocal he was, with his little sounds and pleas you were surprised you'd never heard him jerking off under your bed while he listened to you.
He was almost laying on his back, his legs spread wide in front of you, holding his weight on his elbows. Your gaze falls to the bulge in his pants, a small stain right at the end of his clothed dick. As he feels your eyes on him his hips involuntarily thrust upwards. Your hand goes in front of your face, your fingers rubbing your eyes as you tried your best not to burst out of laughter.
"Mhm... what's so funny, doctor?" he whimpers.
"It's funny how I've always wanted a whore like you, yet you've been here all the time, I just had no idea" You feel the smirk on your face get wider when he moans slightly at your insult. "Get on the couch" you say, your voice not as demanding as it should've been, you find out later.
"Are you going to fuck me?" he asks, his face lighting up.
"Get on the fucking couch!"
He falls silent and gets up as fast as he can, almost tripping over on his way to the couch. He takes a seat there, straightening his back and keeping his hands on his thighs. He was trying his hardest not to let out any more sounds, but it was so hard! The way you were approaching him slowly, tantalizingly slowly. How your body was moving, how those clothes were fitting you so perfectly. He started fidgeting, cracking his fingers like he was trying to break them.
"Pleaseee..." he whines again.
You frown and raise your voice at the man in front of you. "If you don't keep quiet I'll gag you! Is that what you want?"
Fear creeps onto his face and he shakes his head rapidly. "No, no, no, no. Don't gag me! Don't gag me please! I wanna tell you how much I love you, doctor! I wanna talk to you! I wanna- mhm... wanna-"
Your hand was on his cheek, thumb brushing against his lower lip, the small gesture shutting him down. His breath was caught in his throat and when he relaxed under your touch, when he let out that relieved sigh, the room was filled with a pained scream.
"Ahh..." He was breathing rapidly after the slap you just gave him, its pain lingering on his skin which was turning redder by the second.
"Have you forgotten that this is supposed to be a punishment, you freak?" you ask him, both anger and mockery detectable in your voice.
He looked at you with big teary eyes, a smile forming on his lips. "Harder..." He moans, lifting his hands and trying to grab yours, but stopping himself mid-air, remembering he had to be obedient. If this went well he'd be your slave! That thought alone almost made him cum in his pants.
You raise a brow, your face darkening. "Did you just tell me what to do?"
He gulped. "Uhm...uh...I..." he started stuttering, trying to find the right words.
"A punishment is supposed to hurt but it seems like you're enjoying yourself so far, aren't you?" you ask. He stays silent. The truth was, he was desperate to feel that pain from your slap again. He wanted it, no...he needed it. He felt like he was gonna die if you didn't touch him any sooner. You start talking again, not paying attention to the way he was pacing back and forth, fidgeting in his seat, soft sounds escaping his red lips, abused by his teeth every time he tried not to jump on you and hump your leg until he came.
"You want me to touch you, don't you? You want me to fuck you?" you ask, smirking.
He nodded eagerly. "Yes...yes, please...pretty please, doctor....please, please, please-"
"Shut the fuck up, you slut!" you snap at him.
He whimpers just like a dog who's been yelled at by his beloved owner and his head lowers.
"You're sick. Disgustingly pathetic and utterly insane. I could do whatever i want to you, but my options are limited if I truly wanna torture you" You start pacing around the room, thinking of means to make him regret being a repulsive stalker and a crazy manwhore. He just stays there, already in pain, struggling not to simply take one of the pillows on the sofa and hump it like a bitch in heat. God, he would've loved it if you just touched him. Why weren't you touching him? Couldn't you see how much he needed it? Couldn't you see how much he loved you? Lost in thought, he didn't even realize when you appeared in front of him. He lifts his gaze and tries to look you straight in the eyes. You only gave him a serious and emotionless glare.
"Take your pants off" you demand.
You didn't need to tell him twice. He practically jumps off the couch and starts undressing, taking his pants off along with his boxers and revealing his hard cock. Fat tip leaking precum like a running faucet, pulsing veins along his neglected shaft. His legs were hairless, as well as his balls, no hair present on his lower body. You saw some thick scars running along his pale thighs, a reminder of the accident which led to him meeting you. They didn't make him any less attractive. You still had to use all the self-control you had in you not to fuck him dumb right then and there.
You whistle at the sight and his cheeks get redder, a content expression on his face.
"Am I pretty, doctor? Am I pretty for you?" he asks, eager for an answer. Maybe if he'd been a good boy he would have gotten praised for his appealing appearance, but you had other plans for him today.
You chuckle. "You? Not in the slightest. You're pathetic. Your hair is a mess and what's inside that brain of yours is even messier. Your legs are so thin it's a miracle they haven't broken yet just from holding your useless existence every single day. No, don't take off your shirt. I don't wanna puke"
"Ahh...ngh-ah..." He bends forward, both hands grabbing at his crotch as he feels his knees getting weak. He whimpers and trembles as you watch him, your own arousal growing. But you couldn't give in and take him. You were too competitive to do that. You couldn't possibly let him stalk you for weeks then give him exactly what he wants. No. He had to be punished.
He straightens his back, panting as though he just ran the marathon. He shows you his palms, full of the cum he's been holding back for so fucking long. His eyes light up he looks at you, a big smile on his lips.
"Thank you, doctor! Mhm...thank you....you're so good to me...I love y-"
Your palm against his cheek shuts him up this time as well. He could feel tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He lifts his head again, trying to hold back his sobs.
"Please, doctor...please"
"Shut up" you command, but he doesn't stop. Tears start running down his red cheeks, only adding to the painful burning sensation.
"Doctor, please...!" He starts tugging at your shirt, desperation visible in his dilated pupils.
"Keep your mouth shut, you slut!"
"I'm a slut!" he says. "I'm your slut, yours, yours only! Ngh-....mhm pleaseee, please I'm sorry. I'm disgusting and pathetic and I deserve it but I just wanna...wanna...mhm..." He grabs your wrist, placing your hand on his reddened cock, shamelessly. You yank your hand away.
"Ew... disgusting! I don't wanna get whatever you have. I don't wanna become a pathetic whore like you" Your disgusted expression was only adding to the pain he was already experiencing, both physical and emotional. He started sobbing, his eyes filling with tears and blurring his vision.
"I d-don't have...'m not sick...doctor, I'm not sick, please" He kept sobbing as you watched him with a pleased smirk across your face. "Please...I know I'm a whore but...mhm please..." He kept begging, his words getting less and less coherent. " 'm sorry, doctor...'m so sorry for being so naughty....I shouldn't have...ngh... shouldn't...forgive....please... forgiveness... doctor...hurts...'m sorry"
He stopped speaking and just straight up started sobbing, fat tears running down his flushed cheeks. He was desperate, so needy, so perfect. The more you were pushing him over the edge, the more you were starting to feel as though you were growing as obsessed with him as he was with you.
Your hand makes its way to his cock and your fingers wrap around him, earning a moan from the man. He kept crying, still too weak to form words and you could've sworn he was too weak to even think of them, let alone speak them. His knees get weak so your left hand goes under his ass to support him and make sure he keeps standing. His hands grab onto your shoulders instinctively.
More and more lewd sounds kept filling the room as you stroked him. You were aching to tease him, to edge him, to make him beg for his release, but you weren't that cruel. You press your lips on his forehead while your hand twisted around his shaft, stroking up and down faster every time when he would start thrusting his hips, unable to tell you to go faster since his mind was completely blank.
" 'm gon- ...ahh ngh-ahh...doctor...gon-"
Could he get any more perfect? Asking for permission to cum even when he was fucked stupid? You were keeping him. A hundred percent. You weren't letting this man go under any circumstances.
"Cum for me, pretty boy. Come on, let it all out for me. That's it. Atta boy!"
"Ahh...f-ahh...ngh...f-fuck..."
He gave you everything he had, his cum covering your hand and even sliding down his thighs, ending up on the carpet. He grabbed your hand rapidly, your eyes getting wide at how he started licking his cum off your fingers with sloppy and desperate tongue movements. He falls to his knees with a thud after swallowing everything, panting and gasping for air.
You stayed there and watched him. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly. Your eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape, shocked at his actions. He lifted his head and gave you a loving smile, his lips still covered in his arousal.
"Thank you..."
Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! I'm kind of thinking about making this a series so please tell me your thoughts about that. Have a great day!β€οΈ
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you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy
On the wrestling to grinding w/ best friend Kyo, your head resting on his forearm as he's leaning on his elbow above you, other hand on your hip. Wet kisses trailed up your neck and his hot breath fanning across your cheek. Every now and then there's a particularly rough thrust as he murmurs apologies in your ear. This isn't how he wanted it to go with you but he can't bring himself to stop
:ΰ°Β¨ β± πππππππ ππππππππ : nsfw, best friend!kyojuro rengoku, fem!reader, modern au, slight size kink, play wrestling -> dry humping pipeline, premature ejaculation. sub!kyojuro implied but the dynamic isn't too prominent in this one.
A TV drama debate quickly turned into playful shoving, which naturally turned into roughhousing, a common practice between you and the man you've known since you could walk.Β The show is paused in the background, illuminating your bodies in the darkness of your living room as you wrestle on the couch you were previously cuddling on.
You continue to argue over the protagonist's love life, though you put too much weight into a lunge, sending both of you tumbling onto the floor. Ouch.Β
βOof!β Kyojuro grunts, the wind temporarily knocked out of him as his back meets the carpet, and your body follows, falling atop his.Β
He rolls over, caging your body beneath his, undeterred by the tumble and you're reminded of just how big he is. He isn't the gangly teen you remember pushing around anymore, but a grown man. It's difficult to reconcile that dorky teen with the pile of muscle he's become. Jeez, when did he bulk up so much? And as you clutch uselessly at his bulging biceps to shove him off you, you can't help but feel him up a little longer than necessary.
Kyojuro's warm weight atop you is all-consuming, sapping the strength from your limbs his body heat melts into yours. Still, you twist in his hold, ignoring the fluttering in your chest to capture him in a headlock. He knocks your arms out of the way, hands sliding beneath you to grip your shoulders, and one of his muscled thighs hooking beneath yours to prevent you from kicking.
You huff, unable to do much but squirm. And squirm you do, never one to give up.Β
He loves your fire almost as much as he loves the way you pout when you lose. Before he can gloat, your hips shift over his groin at just the right angle. Kyojuro's bulge is almost perfectly lodged between your thighs, the warmth between them radiating through your clothing. His breath hitches, muscles tensing in response before a violent shudder overtakes him.Β
Though he fights to regain control of himself, his cock throbs in his pants, and Buddha he hopes you can't feel him getting hard. You'd tease him endlessly for it, he's sure of it.
Get a hold of yourself, Kyojuro. His eyes pinch shut, cheeks ruddy and warm blood as he feels his body fill with fire. When his golden eyes re-open, he's met with an expression on your face that nearly makes him moan aloud.Β
Your brows are twisted in concentration, perhaps to hide how flustered you are by his proximity. Your lips parted slightly, chest heaving from the exertion of your scuffle. Buddha forgive him, his body moves without thought, hips rutting against yours. His swelling erection drags deliciously over your clothed cunt, eliciting a deep rumbling groan that vibrates his whole chest.
Your nails prick into his back, leaving behind red crescent moons on his skin and fuck that feels good too.
Kyojuro murmurs a slurred apology, dipping his head down as his shame paints his cheeks red. Even as he apologizes his hips won't stop, and the feeling of his warm breath on your throat makes you shiver. The shock of the realization that your best friend is humping you leaves you gaping stupidly, and for some reason, you don't tell him to stop.Β
You don't punch his shoulder and laugh it off, only stare with widening pupils as the blond all but ruts his hardness against you like an overeager puppy. Why is this so hot? Wrong in many ways obviously, but itβs intoxicating nonetheless to see him unraveling this way. And God, his cock, even through his joggers you can feel how thick he is.
βKyo,β you began, a protest on the tip of your tongue but your breath hitches as his lips meet the tender flesh of your neck. "K-kyojuro, what are you doing...β
βI can't stop. I'm sorry, I unnnh,β Kyojuro nearly whines, his hand sliding down from your shoulder to grip your hip as his enthusiastic thrusts start to shove you across the floor. "You feel so good.β
βDon't say things like that, idiot,β you hiss, though even as you scold him, you can feel yourself getting slick. His leaking tip nudges your clit just right and you can't stop the soft sound of approval from escaping, nor your legs from locking around his bucking hips. "Fuck, don't stop.β
His cock twitches, aching against your pussy as your perceived acceptance of his desperate act sends him into a frenzy. His weight presses further onto yours, trapping you between his heavy body and the floor. When you toss your head back, his forearm cushions it.
βLove you. Love you β ohh.β
This isn't how he wanted this to go, how he's always imagined himself confessing his feelings for you. But he can't deny either of you this maddening friction, every single rational thought stolen away by your gasping moans.
βCan feel how big you are. Shit, cβmere.β
Your fingers wind in his flaxen hair, gathering it in your fist close to his scalp and tugging his head away from your neck to slant your lips over his. Your clumsy kiss is electric, all heβs ever imagined it would be and not enough all at once, and his hips stutter against yours. He shakes all over, eyes rolling back with a choked cry into your mouth as he abruptly cums in his pants.
βSorry, Iβmβ¦ fuuuck,β he whimpers against your lips, the feeling of your tongue slipping past his parted lips forcing another spurt out of him. βAh. Hmm, wow.β
His half-lidded, apologetic gaze meets yours, a bead of sweat dripping down his hairline.
βWhat the fuck,β you start, half-chuckling half in disbelief of what just happened. His face burns with the humiliation of not only humping his best friend like some pervert but also blowing his load from you kissing him, like a loser. Before he can apologize again, he takes in your dilated pupils and the way your hips still undulate beneath his heavy weight. βThat was so hot.β
In his post-orgasmic haze, he can only groan in response, pressing his face into your shoulder.
βAnd pathetic,β you teased, and for some reason his softening cock twitches. And of course you notice, because heβs still slotted against your cunt, which is no doubt a sloppy mess of your own slick beneath your clothes. You hadnβt cum, but you hardly care, still on cloud nine from simply watching your favorite person unravel.
βSo cruel,β he huffs, nipping at your shoulder in retaliation.Β
βYou like it. A bit too much apparentlyβ yeowch!β another, harder bite follows, and you erupt in giggles as his thick digits dig into your sides, tickling you. βTouchy. Now are you gonna get up and let me fuck you properly, or are you too tuckered out, pretty boy?β
The way he scrambles off of you and starts pulling at his clothes is way too cute.
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To expand on this a little bit: Ryoko Kui takes the tools of character design seriously, and uses them with forethought and consideration to set her characters apart, give them personality and specificity, and thinks very carefully about what each piece of design communicates and how it interacts with all the other design in her story.
Body shape, face shape, noses, eyes, brows, hair, proportion, fashion, ears, posture, roundness and angularity, broadness and slenderness, posture... Kui clearly thinks about ALL of it, and incorporates all of it.
And this is part of what gives her story such a profound sense of taking place within a world, a whole world inhabited by thousands of people each of whom are as full and unique and distinct as every other one. You look at a group of her characters and none of them feel like Copy Pasted NPC Placeholder #3457, they each feel as though there is a life there, an individuality, even if they are never actually deeply explored in the story.
Compare and contrast with something like Genshin Impact's style of character design:
Now, I don't bring this up just to sh** on Genshin - its character design style is adapted very effectively to the kind of story and world it is trying to build, which is to say a gacha story where every part of a character is formulated towards the singular goal of appeal. It's a world inhabited by nothing but main characters, essentially, and it is a laser-focused power fantasy structured around constantly pursuing the high of maximum damage numbers pumped out by maximally cool and badass battle moves executed with maximal grace by physically perfect avatars who provide the player with maximal aesthetic pleasure.
But because of that, its character design style is under severe pressure to regress to the mean - i.e. skinny bodies, young bodies, beauty ideals, and a minimal amount of physical difference. This style of character design tends to focus all of its effort in colorful, detailed and attention-grabbing fashion and hair styles, and generally avoids "alienating" design features like, well, literally anything that could be conceptualized by anyone as "ugly." Big strong noses, for example, or larger ears, or wrinkles, scarring, skin folds and so on. Fatness functionally does not exist in Genshin Impact's character roster for this reason, and it's part of the reason why the franchise struggles so notably to design characters of color - the concept of "beauty" is deeply bound up in systemic biases of class, race, gender and nationalism, and since Genshin's character design ethos is "make every character as broadly beautiful as possible" it has to keep hitting the same limited set of beats over and over and over again, and it reinforces the biases it inherits with its inability to step outside of them.
So Genshin Impact characters have a tendency, for me at least, to all kinda blur together into a brightly colored cavalcade of lowest-common-denominator ambulatory clothing racks, characters whose bodies exist for the primary purpose of transporting a highly elaborate costume around.
Kui by contrast very very actively seeks out elements of physical difference, and incorporates them into her design process - she seems to delight in inventing as many nose shapes as possible, as many different kinds of eyes as she can think of, and the result is that she has a character roster which is recognizable even if you change or remove very important parts of their basic design.
Where Genshin Impact (and that style of character design) would severely struggle to make characters recognizable without their costumes, because the characters in large part are their costumes, Kui's design style makes characters extremely recognizable not only in and out of costume, but even if the fundamental nature of their bodies change across species, and it makes her characters of the same race and species eminently recognizable from one another, even while sharing many physical traits and aesthetic features.
