So do you think if Sanemi actually blinded Genya, Genya would have to admit to himself that his big brother had become almost unrecognizable? Do you think Genya would start thinking of Sanemi like their father?
Idea, what if vampires are weak to the holy items of their culture when they were alive. So a lot of modern vampires are weak to the classic cross and holy water. But vampires from ancient Egypt aren't effected by that at all. Instead they're weak to the eye of horus or an ankh
TIL that my high school not only is old enough to have a nuclear bomb shelter, but was a black school when people were segregated. Like, I thought it was a white school for the longest time??? Gues it makes sense why they had to do so many renovations tho
Kinda drives home how recent segregation was. It's kind of hard for me to perceive history until I'm walking around in it
I’m honestly exhausted with certain corners of this fandom, and I need to say this plainly and calmly because I stand by it.
I got into an argument recently under a comment that said: “If you age up minors in your fics, you need your hard drive checked.”
And… no. That’s not how fiction works.
These are fictional characters, in a fictional universe, written in fictional scenarios. When I say “This is a modern-day AU and Muichiro Tokito is 21,” that is a factual statement within the story. That is the canon of that universe. The character being written is not fourteen.
The version being imagined is an adult: a grown man with adult responsibilities, an adult body, an adult life. The inspiration being drawn is surface-level. With visual motifs, core personality traits but not the original age or circumstances. And even personality is allowed to evolve, because adulthood changes people. That’s the entire point of AUs.
You cannot sexualize a minor if the character does not exist as a minor in the narrative. The sexualization you’re accusing people of literally does not apply to the version being written. Saying things like “just admit you like kids” or “get your hard drive checked” doesn’t make you morally superior. No, it just assigns genuinely harmful accusations to real people over fictional writing. And that’s where I stop engaging politely.
This fandom is obsessed with purity tests.
People will confidently thirst over Daki, a demon who has existed for over a century, and then people LOVE to suddenly pretend she’s “mentally twelve.” That is not supported by canon. Demons in Kimetsu no Yaiba retain memories, experiences, and emotional continuity from their demon lives. Daki has lived, learned, manipulated, survived, and killed for decades. She is not a child trapped in a body. she is a grown, morally corrupt demon. You don’t have to like her, but pretending she’s mentally prepubescent is not accurate.
Then there’s the mischaracterization problem.
Giyuu Tomioka is not a helpless twink. Canonically, he is physically imposing, highly skilled, emotionally repressed, and deeply traumatized. He shifts between withdrawal and intensity. He’s not “soft baby” or “emotionless jerk,” he’s a man who doesn’t believe he deserves love. In a healthy relationship, he would be careful, loyal, and terrified of loss. Arguments wouldn’t be explosive but they’d be cold, quiet, and painful. That’s not headcanon fluff; that’s consistent with how trauma actually manifests. He’s the switchiest switch I’ve ever seen too. He’d let you use him all day if you wanted, but if you wanted to be used by him, he’d do it.
Sanemi Shinazugawa would not abuse his partner. He is volatile, yes. He’s sharp-tongued and defensive, absolutely. But canon shows his violence is directed outward, not toward those he loves. Even his cruelty is rooted in fear and protection with Genya. You can write messy arguments without turning him into a domestic abuser. Those are not the same thing. Also sex with Sanemi would not constantly be this degrading dom situation. He’s also a switch. He’d let you dom him, whimpering, begging. But if you asked to dom you, he’d do it. He’d degrade you too but he’d want to be 100% sure you were okay with that beforehand and give you the best aftercare. That’s why I write “established trust” with him.
Now, Dōma.
Yes, his backstory is psychologically disturbing. But no, it is not equivalent to Akaza’s or Kokushibō’s in terms of remorse or moral conflict. Canonically, Dōma still craves worship, runs a cult, and lacks genuine empathy. He is a narcissist. That doesn’t mean his story isn’t tragic but it means his tragedy doesn’t redeem him. Evil characters are allowed to just be evil. He is simply just evil. That’s WHY I LOVE HIM.
And finally, the demon discourse.
I get comments all the time like, “They would just eat you.”
Okay. Maybe Dōma would. That tracks. You got me there.
But canon shows that demons are not mindless animals. Akaza retains values, loyalty, grief, and agency, so much so that he ultimately chooses death when confronted with his humanity. Kokushibō makes calculated decisions based on pride and legacy. Mercy, manipulation, or transformation all exist within canon precedent if it benefits them.
They are evil. They are dangerous. But they are not one-dimensional. Writing them as capable of emotional attachment and with emotional intelligence is not delusion. It is factual. They can be evil but let’s not pretend they are mercilessly, and incapable of emotional understanding.
Disclaimer 🤚: These are my opinions. This is how I interpret the characters. This is how I write them.
You don’t have to agree. You don’t have to read it.
But I’m not going to stop, and I’m definitely not going to apologize for engaging with fiction like fiction.
So eat my ass.
But if you agree and support me…maybe I’ll eat yours ;)
some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.
Analysis of Kokushibo why he forgot the faces of his father, mother, wife and children
This is a theory that will be based on Buddhist cultural elements as well as a symbol of self-destruction by jealousy, hatred, obsession with inferiority and sibling rivalry that this character represents 🧵
The problem is that many people argue about why Kokushibo forgot his ex-wife's face and justify it by saying "Just because she's boring or unimpressive", no it's not the author's interpretation of this character
Try asking why he forgot his mother's face and his children's face, the people who are considered Kokushibo still have a positive impression of them??
I want to share more about the reason why Kokushibo forgot the faces of everyone in his family except Yoriichi, which I recently delved into. It was the consequence of Michikatsu being abandoned. The fact that Aohizan (his ex-wife), his children, his mother, and his father had their faces forgotten in his memory was not a coincidence, but a direct reflection of Michikatsu's own actions and choices.
Emphasizes anonymity and representative role: Mother (Akeno): Represents the good qualities, care, kindness that Michikatsu inherited and received from her
Father: Represents strength and victory with the Samurai spirit, but not to the extreme. These are the Samurai principles and qualities that Michikatsu was taught (however his father did not clarify what the true value of victory and strength of the Samurai is)
Aohizan and children: Symbolize the lasting peace and stability family he has.
(No!! I don't mean Michikatsu is romantic with his ex-wife but he certainly doesn't despise or hate her)
And one more thing is that Michikatsu abandoned his ex-wife and children NOT because this marriage had problems or it was a place that made him miserable or suffocated, but the reason he abandoned his old family was because he was jealous, hated Yoriichi and wanted to have the same power as Yoriichi, Fanbook 2 and Michikatsu's inner monologue in the manga admitted this.
All of these people brought positive values to Michikatsu's life and he had no negative feelings towards them, either emotionally or physically, before his collapse.
Abandonment is the cause of fading: Michikatsu threw everything away with his own hands - wife and children, humanity, Samurai honor - and that is why they became faded, faceless, nameless in his memory. He actively erased those values and people from his life, and as a result, the memory of them gradually faded, becoming only abstract concepts of loss.
Or to be more precise, Michikatsu also betrayed the values that his parents, wife and children had given him.
Yoriichi in Kokushibo's memories: Symbol of mixed emotions and obsession: The fact that Yoriichi is the only person Michikatsu/Kokushibo always remembers the face of is not because he is the only person who matters in the pure sense. Yoriichi is a symbol of many mixed emotions: admiration, jealousy, obsession, desire for recognition, and also self-doubt.
Extreme Idealism and Blind Pursuit: Yoriichi also represents the extreme ideals of power and perfection that Kokushibo blindly pursues. He becomes the embodiment of the illusion of power that Kokushibo believes he must achieve in order to surpass his younger brother.
The Degeneration into a Demon:
When Michikatsu abandoned everything and became Kokushibo, he became exactly that, a cold, bloodthirsty, aloof, ruthless demon, obsessed with power and victory, blindly pursuing illusory power, and living in a demon world filled with turmoil and negativity. This transformation was a direct result of his choices and obsessions.
In Buddhist culture, Kokushibo is a heartbreaking symbol of self-destruction due to hatred, jealousy and sibling rivalry. These negative emotions led him down a path of self-destruction, loss of humanity and finally death filled with regret for his choices, realization of the futility of it all, despair and doubt of the path he chose.
In Buddhism, Greed, Hatred, and Delusion are the three main poisons that cause suffering and samsara. Jealousy, rivalry, hatred, and Kokushibo's obsession with power all fall under these three poisons.
This is the law of karma and Kokushibo's punishment. He actively abandoned the people who brought him peace, love, and human values (father, mother, wife, children). As a result, his memories of them faded, even their faces disappeared, as a reflection of his own act of rejection.
Haunted by what he wanted to forget: On the contrary, Yoriichi - the person Kokushibo hated, envied and wanted to forget, the person who represented his obsession and failure - was the person whose face he could not forget. This was the most cruel punishment. He accepted the pain and degeneration to overcome Yoriichi, but Yoriichi himself became a permanent psychological shackle, unable to escape.
This is the "karma" of jealousy and hatred: Michikatsu sowed the seeds of jealousy, blind ambition, and betrayal. The result is that he is forever haunted by the object of his jealousy, never attaining true peace, and dies in confusion and regret for what he has lost and cannot regain.
The him regretting everything in the end
It is also his depth, which is also the value, the warning for anyone who gets caught up in jealousy, hatred and sibling rivalry so that later on they will destroy themselves and harm others, to later be too late and unable to turn back
Kokushibo is a prime example of how jealousy and hatred can corrode a person. He destroyed himself (turned into a demon, lost his humanity, died in despair) and caused terrible harm to others (family, Demon Slayer Corps, Muichiro). His tragedy highlights that when these emotions take control, people can go too far, to the point of no return, no matter how much regret they have.
Buddhism regards jealousy (妒嫉) and hatred (嗔恨) as hindrances, mental obstacles that cause suffering. Kokushibo's story is a clear demonstration of how these emotions completely destroyed his happiness and development. In Buddhism, rivalry, especially between brothers, is often seen as a form of greed and hatred, causing suffering and division. This makes me think of the wooden flute that Kokushibo himself had cut off, which he had always kept with him, perhaps because deep down he still loved Yoriichi, but the cutting off was destruction and division for both of them.
As in the end Kokushibo is left with only obsession, jealousy, hatred and rivalry mixed brotherly love and admiration with Yoriichi, all regrets of his choices, doubts about his path, realizing everything he did was meaningless and dies in despair.
I don't know if anyone has ever noticed this before, but I was trying to figure out which baby is Michikatsu and which is Yoriichi in this panel:
And since the only way to do so is by identifying Yoriichi first from his birthmark, which is on the right side of his forehead/face, I was initially confused by Gotouge's decision to draw them in a position that only shows their left sides.
So, I assumed it was intentional despite my doubts.
But then I realized something...
Gotouge ily this is such a great detail to their dynamic
Needless to say, Michikatsu might have been interpreted as "Yin" (dark), while Yoriichi as "Yang" (light)—to further support this idea, if you look closely and compare the two, their hair is drawn differently. And, canonically, Yoriichi has wavier hair compared to Michikatsu, who has spikier hair than his brother.
i don't know why i accumulate so many followers these days but i'm feeling too perceived skdkks guys can you unfollow me or at least take off your shoes at my door (this is not an american household!) aka read my rules?
When you died to a vehicle accident, you expected to become an adventurer in a high-fantasy world. Instead, you were a crystal tied to a broken starship, one out of many in a field of barren space. Undeterred, you start to turn the wrecks into a Dungeon, becoming a powerful battleship as well.
You weren't sure how long you were there. Time didn't even seem to be a thing until a piece from another broken ship slowly drifted from its origin point. The cold vacuum of space was nothing compared to the eerie silence.
The view of the stars was gorgeous beyond description. You wanted to drift closer but were tied in place by that awful cable. You pulled. It didn't budge. You tried again.
Small adjustments were all you could manage, it was frustrating. Mild annoyance bubbled into slowly rising anger at being trapped in a lonely void. Was this really meant to be your existence now? You groan in frustration and let off a slight glow.
Huh. That's different. You let out a hum in curiosity. You glow a bit brighter. As memories of your old life play in your mind, you miss your old home. You absentmindedly begin humming a song from your youth, some old song about sitting by a creek.
Small bits of broken ships float in space as your quiet melody plays from you. It doesn't go unnoticed that they're drifting towards each other. Fascinated, you keep humming that song. It seems the longer you sing, the more pieces start to drift together.
With nothing better to do, you begin creating something.
With time, bigger and bigger pieces come together. The places where they join and connect have a faint glow. The ships around you break apart, bit by bit, and come back together into something just for you.
The battleship is massive, and the inside is like a labyrinth. After the pride of your creation wears off, you begin to miss seeing the stars. While your curiosity had been sated, it seemed that it had come at a cost. While the constellations were all alien to you, they were no less beautiful.
Quiet footsteps pull you out of your thoughts as small beings enter the ship. You can hear them all the way from the room you are tucked away in. There are atleast three of them. Their voices speak in an alien tongue, and you can't decipher a word of it.
After some exploring, they reach where you are and you finally get to see them. The tallest one is leading the small group. Their lanky form is holding some kind of light source. They point at you while speaking to the others. The medium sized one is bulkier than their taller counterpart and easily climbs the structure that you're strapped to. They begin trying to cut you free.
The smallest one seems nervous. Their tiny frame matches their demeanor, and they speak quietly to the others in hushed tones. They seem to be arguing about something. You can't fathom what it could be.
You don't have much time to ponder that, as you are finally freed. You fall unceremoniously with a clang against the metal floor. The creatures gather around you to get a better look. After some more conversing, it seems the smallest one is chosen to carry you. They strain to lift your crystal form as the others look around for the way out.
You are brought onto their ship. If you could sigh, you would. The company was nice, but you couldn't even understand them. At least they let you sit near a window so you could see the stars again. As their ship drifted away from the one you built, you saw the remnants of a broken planet in one of the windows.
The smallest looked at the pieces in a way that you understood far too well. In a desire for something that you couldn't remember the word for, you begin to hum again.
Their ship begins to faintly glow. The two that had been arguing suddenly stop, and look around in surprise. You could hear the engine of the ship start up, and the others cheered. Ah. That's why they wanted you.
You kept humming that song about sitting by a creek. Memories of your old home played in your mind. The gentle rain of summer, the soft breeze, sunlight filtering through the leaves. If you ignored your surroundings, it almost felt like you were there again.
‐----
Soru had been stuck in a ship with her brothers for what felt like years. They were lucky to have escaped, but there was a pit in her heart that couldn't be filled anytime she saw the remnants of her home. The chunks hung lifelessly in space as their ship slowly drifted away.
Their ship didn't have enough power to get out of their solar system, so they were forced to scavenge battlefields for scraps and ship parts. The war atleast left that for them. Her brothers were arguing again after finding some strange crystal. One was sure that it was the solution to their problems, the other thought their time had been wasted.
Soru just wished they would stop fighting. They never fought back home. She closed her eyes and thought of her old house by the forest. There was a small stream that gently ran through where it was easy to find pebbles and flowers. She thought of the soft drops of rain, of the gentle wind, and faint hints of sunlight reaching through the canopy.
Suddenly, her brothers stopped fighting. She opened her eyes and saw the ship was faintly glowing. Before she could ask what was going on, the engine came back on. The crystal in her hands was letting out a faint hum as the ship was finally given the power they needed to find a new home.
Disclaimer : Stepcest , exhibitionism and Implication of brainwashing. Also reader calls Douma “Daddy”
~~~~~
You remembered like it was yesterday.
Both you and your mother were grieving over the loss of your father, the pain unbearable. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your chest was ripped open for the crows to feast on. Both of you were looking for something, anything, to help and navigate this difficult time in your life when a friend of your mothers told you about a certain man.
“He can do anything.” She told your mother, a dazed look in her eyes, “and he can bring you peace.”
So the two of you went to this man. This miracle. The one who could heal your wounds and guide you through life. You had your hesitations, of course, suggesting to your mother that it would be best to stay away but she was so insistent, unable to deal with the loss of her lover, that you gave in to her pleas. She would have gone regardless, better you were with her.
And then you met Douma. The most beautiful man you’d ever seen and within a second, you understood.
His tall stature, toned body underneath his clothes, his silky whitish-blonde hair and those eyes. Oh, those eyes. Multicoloured, ever changing and bright like a pair of diamonds. Within those moments, both of you understood. You needed to dedicate your life to him. You’d try to see him every day, even get a job managing his shrine. You’d talk to him when you could, often catching him outside his room and he’d chat with you, making your day so much better.
Which was why it hurt so much more when he announced that he was marrying your mother.
She was ecstatic, of course, a dedicated member of his cult and the fact that he chose her was a blessing. A true blessing. Of course, for you, it was a curse. Your usual bright days got so dull, colors turned into black and whites as you pretended to be happy for them. You couldn’t understand why Lord Douma chose your mother- why not choose you instead? But you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Atleast, until he forced it out of you.
“You haven’t been coming to see me, lately.” Douma said, making you gulp as he cornered you in the hallway, “I’m hurt. Do I not interest you anymore?”
“L-Lord Douma-“
“Shouldn’t you call me father?” he asked, gripping your chin gently, “We’re going to be family, right?”
Your expression dropped and he understood.
“Ah, so that’s why.” He said, “Do you not want me as a stepfather?”
“I-“ You gulped, deciding to come out and say, “I w-would have preferred it if you were my h-husband instead… but you love my mother so-”
“Who said that?”
“Huh?”
“Who said I love her?” Douma asked, tilting his head in confusion, “This is a marriage of convenience, nothing more. Your family has a lot of money that I can use, little dove. That’s all it is.”
“That’s-" you hesitated, trying to process the information. So…he was just using your mother…for money…you had to tell her- get her out of this engagement-
“Question is,” Douma said, a hand running up your arm and his touch making your body shiver, “Are you going to tell her or not? If you do, I’d have to banish the both of you from here. But if you keep it a secret…” his hand found its way to your hip, pulling you close to him, his body pressed flush against yours, “I’ll fuck you right here and now.”
There was only one option you could choose.
~~~~~
Douma had everyone in his palm, no one daring to disobey him and willing to put their lives on the line for him which was how his wife was blind to his affair with his stepdaughter even after all this time.
The night of his wedding, Douma sneaked out of his marital bed, leaving his new wife behind to go be with his plaything. He adored you. He loved your looks, how devoted you were to him, how innocent yet naughty you were- everything. And he wasn’t going to hide it.
People were dumb enough to fall for his schemes but not stupid enough to not realise when to keep their mouths closed.
Which was why, even when he touched you while a follower was talking to him, they didn’t say a word. Even if they knew it was wrong, they kept silent. Even as they watched a stepfather make love to his stepdaughter, they dared not let Douma’s wife know.
“Mmm-haa-“ you whined as Douma pet your pussy, his long, delicious fingers running up and down your slick slit, your audience long forgotten. You’d gotten used to this- being touched and fucked whenever he wanted, having you ready and eager for him. His fingers suddenly dipped inside you, making you cry out as he slowly started thrusting in and out, a second finger soon joining as well.
The man gulped, trying his best to keep his eyes on the floor, more out of fear than respect.
“So, you’re having problems with your marriage.” Douma said, his voice crystal clear despite all the…well…
“Y-Yes, Lord Douma.” The man replied, looking up at him only to look down again immediately, unable to help the blood rushing to his cheeks, “It’s becoming quite the issue.”
“Hmmm. So why is your wife mad at you?” Douma asked, curiously.
“I- I’m not sure.” Came the response, “Whenever I try to t-talk to her, she just snaps at me.”
“I see.” Douma said, only half paying attention, “What do you think the problem must be, cutie?”
You perked up, a confused look on your face as Douma’s fingers stopped inside you, making you whine in frustration. The man simply laughed at your adorable face, patting your cheek with his other hand. He had you on his lap, your kimono almost completely off, your pretty breasts bare for him to tease and your pussy dripping down his fingers.
“What?” you asked, not even paying attention to what was going on. You turned your head to look at the man in the room, giving him a glare as he was the reason your stepfather had stopped moving his fingers. The man seemed embarrassed, unable to look at you as he stared at the ground.
“Now, now.” Douma said, clicking his tongue as he pulled his fingers out just to slap your cunt, making you yelp, “Mind your manners.”
“I-I’m sorry daddy.” You whined, biting your thumb as he gave your pussy more pats, “What did he ask?”
“He’s having marriage problems.”
“Mmmm-“ you pondered, trying to come up with the quickest solution, “Maybe he’s not good in bed.”
Douma laughed while the man barked in offense, his ears turning red, his silence a form of confession. “You think so?” Douma asked, running his pretty fingers up and down your cunt, leaning forward a bit to place a sweet kiss to your tits, “Then maybe we need to give him a lesson, hmm?”
“Y-Yes Daddy, please!” you begged, cupping his face and looking him in his stunning eyes, hoping he could see the desperation in them, “Please fuck me!”
“Good girl, using your words.” Douma praised, making you shiver and your pussy gush, “But I don’t think I’m done playing with you yet~”
You gasped as he started moving his fingers in you again, the nasty sound of his long digits digging into your cunt and curling just right had you biting your lower lip. He gave your nipple a few kitten licks, enjoying your reaction before he turned back to the man in the room.
“Come back at the end of the day.” He said, an arm around you as you leaned into him, bucking your hips against his fingers, “And I’ll teach you how you can please your wife.”
“A-As you wish my lord.”
“Let in the next person. Oh, and remember, not a word.”
“U-understood Lord Douma.”
With a bow, the man scurried out of the room, his erection poorly hidden under his Yukata. Douma didn’t care. He always thought he wouldn’t understand the human nature of possessiveness, but it was only after meeting you that he was starting to get it. He didn’t care if people watched and were turned on by you but he drew the line at anyone but him touching you. Luckily, you didn’t want anyone but Douma.
“M-My lord.” The next person sputtered, her face turning a bright shade of red as she closed the door behind her, her desire to pray to Douma more important than her embarrassment of seeing him with his step daughter, “I- I have a question-“
“Ah! Yes daddy!” you screamed, cutting her off as you tossed your head back, Douma milking your g-spot. But, deciding to tease you a bit, the man stopped once more, taking his fingers out. You whined in protest, eyes wide as you tried to press against him but he suddenly grabbed you by the hips and pushed you off of him, forcing your body to collide against the soft cushion of his loveseat.
“I have a supporter here, baby.” He said, smirking at your offended face, your kimono rucked over your ass and giving him a lovely view of your twitching cunt and pink asshole, “Don’t be naughty. Stay quiet and wait for me to finish.”
“But daddy!” You whined, lying on your back before spreading your legs, a hand coming up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart, showing off every nook and cranny of your cunt to him, “I was so close!”
“I don’t care.” Douma said, attention back on his subject whose whole face was red with shame over seeing you be so disgraceful, “And don’t you dare touch yourself. That’s an order.”
You whined, pouting and flailing your legs like a brat, annoyed as you both knew you’d never disobey an order. Your stepfather seemed to have some kindness towards you as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you close to him before placing your legs on his lap. His hand went between you legs and you giggled happily as he started petting your pussy like he was stroking a cat. You spread your legs once more, giving him more room as he stroked you gently. It wasn’t enough to really make you feel good but it was better than nothing.
It was quite the sight, seeing Douma mindlessly stroke your pussy as his attention was on his supporters, his dick straining in his pants. Occasionally he’d put some force in, swiping his fingers over your clit so fast and suddenly it made you squeal before he went back to gentle strokes taking away your pleasure. He was such a meany but you loved it. You couldn’t be happier to be his stepdaughter.
“Daddy-“ you panted as the woman left the room, leaving the door open for the next person to come in, “Can I cum? Please let me cum?”
“Are you close?” Douma asked, rubbing your clit in circles. “Mmhmm!” you whined with a nod, your cheeks red and your thighs trembling with want, “Please Daddy?”
“Get on Daddy’s cock, pretty.”
You gasped happily as you scrambled back onto his lap, fingers digging at his pants greedily before you pulled his cock out. You sighed as you grabbed a hold of his hot, thick heavy cock. Just like the rest of him, your stepdads cock was pure perfection. The first time he took you, you were scared that it wouldn’t fit but the more and more he fucked you, you learned to worship his beastly member.
“Ride me baby, that’s it. Ohh~ Good girl~”
You mewled happily as you started sinking down on his cock, your pussy splitting apart as you sank down inch by inch, his dick filling you up deliciously. You sank down to the bottom just as the third person walked in, another woman who gasped loudly before she slapped a hand over her mouth, minding her manners. She should be used to it at this point.
“Tell me, what ails you?” Douma asked his subject as she sat down, just as embarrassed as the rest of them, trying her best to not look at Douma’s balls pressed against your cunt. She started to speak and you were starting to move, but you gawked when Douma grabbed your hips and kept you in place, not allowing you to move an inch. The look in his eyes told you that you were to stay still, demanding that you cockwarm him as he spoke to the other woman.
It was pure hell being edged like this. He started touching you from the moment you woke up, the man sneaking into your room after laying with your mother and still, he hadn’t let you cum. Now, his perfect cock was balls deep inside you and still, he wasn’t going to let you cum. He was strict with you, making sure you stayed still even as he tickled your clit or slid a pinkie into your asshole.
And the woman left. Another man came in. After he left, another man came in. And after him, another woman.
Douma continued to talk to these people as he toyed with you, never allowing you to sink into that pleasure completely. He’d occasionally start fucking you, balls slapping against your skin as you rode him but just as you were about to cum, he’d stop.
He’s push you off his cock before making you take it in your mouth, the sound of you gagging acting as background noise as he listened to his followers’ problems. He’d touch you, finger your cunt, suckle your breasts, taste your pussy- but over and over again, he’d stop right before you came.
Until finally, finally- when that first man came back just as Lord Douma had told him too, he decided to give you mercy.
“See how pathetic she looks?” Douma asked as he fucked you, smirking at your slutty screams. You were on your hands and knees, your stepfather switching positions to take you doggy and it was wonderful. Both of you were facing the supporter and you could see his conflicted expression. Your tits swung back and forth each time Douma thrust into you, his hips slapping against yours deliciously as he pounded you.
“Edge your wife and – fuck yes- by the end of the day, she’ll be begging for you cock. Just like my little girl~” he raised a hand and smacked you across the ass, making you scream, “Spank her, finger her pussy, suck her tits and eat her out- tease her all day long and make her beg for it!”
“I- I understand my Lord.” The man said, eyes glued to you and your stepfather fucking like animals. He’d never do something as blasphemous as leave when he got to experience Lord Douma engage in this sexual activity, even if it did feel embarrassing.
“You gonna cum baby?” Douma asked you, sweat driping down his brow and your juices dripping down his balls as he pounded into you, your moans melodic.
“Yes! Yes- yes- yes- please daddy!”
“Want Daddy’s cum?”
“Inside me- breed me- make me a mommy!”
“Pathetic.” He panted with a grin, giving you another spank as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking his dick with your perfect and hot walls, practically begging him for his seed.
And he’d give it to you but only after he got you to squirt around his cock.
Okay okay hear me out. What if Doma and Kotoha had a daughter with him before she figured out she was a demon that looked just like him and left her with him? How would Shinobu react to a girl wandering around that looks like the demon he hates so much?
