Hellooooooooooo, Mother!🙇♀️😌
I am humbly- not so humbly. I’m so thirsty- asking you for that one cassandra x Donna thought we had….because…we starving when it comes to this ship
Please, Mother, feed us feed me! I’m your fav-
I FUOAKIN LOVE your works. But ofc especially Cassandra x Donna🙇♀️ because good soup
That…sleeping one…you teased…please. Pretty please? I’ll even leave your vases alone for a day pleaaaaaaase MOTHERRRRRR!🙇♀️🙇♀️
The cig break I had to take after writing this should fucking illegal.
Firstly Yes hello yes daughter. MY FAVORITE DAUGHTER. MY ONLY WONDEFUL AMAZING SMART CHILD! I have heard you and have arrived once again to deliver the food. *slams down massive ass plate* Ok so lets start with the basics. I have no right to say I had any control of this one shot once I started writing it. It took me on some twist and turns but I think I got across the what you wanted. (Cass getting touched on by Dark Donna while she is sleeping) My HC's for Dark Donna go wild and i aint sorry. More mutant and multi armed Donna yes pls...
Hope you enjoy it @muffinsin
The teacup fell from frigid fingertips, shattering completely along the polished wood floor. Cassandra’s hand loosened enough for it to have dropped. Porcelain covered in the finely ground root that had been added to this evening’s tea. An unspoken rule between the two women, Donna brewed Cassandra a special tea. Cassie knew it would make her rather sleepy, due to the Golden Pothos leaves that had been added to the lavender tea. The Lord knew Cassandra would have refused to drink the tea if she didn’t want to be taken advantage of while she slept.
Lord Beneviento found much to enjoy when her little doll was like this. She stood just shy of their shared bed; the covers having been removed. Leaving just the black satin sheets. Skin the color of the finest alabaster in stark contrast with the sheets. Dark brown hair lay fanned out underneath the huntress’s head. Her eyes were closed, mouth agape slightly. Revealing small yet deadly top fangs. The Lord reached down and angled her thumb along her lover’s bottom lip. Just light enough to were her eyelids fluttered, but did not open. It drew a shudder from the lithe Lord. The veil over Donna’s face moved ever so gently from her rather labored breathing. Just looking over the smaller women’s sleeping form made Donna’s spine cramp. The lull of her stomach as it rose and fell. The swell of her breast, the giving fat teasing the Lord. The dark patch of hair between her legs, glistening with the start of her arousal. Strong muscle strapped thighs, each as supple as they were thick. One hand dangled over the side of the bed, the one that dropped the cup. The other lay along her stomach, fingers fanned out over the raised muscle of her abs.
The veins in the Lords hands danced along the extensor tendons as she flexed them. Drawing her thumb along Cassandra’s top lip, pulling it back to bare her teeth. A small groan left the Lord as she eased her tall frame down next to her women. Her mourning dress pulled up around her hips as she straddled Cassandra’s naked thighs. A small grunt leaving Cassie’s
The brown-haired women's abs felt like heaven, just enough brawn to press against black silk panties. Yet enough soft give of fat to make the Lord bite her lip as her hips bucked on their own. Another flutter of Cassandra's eyelids, long beautiful eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. An sharp inhale, taking the scent of her women into her nose. Even through the powerful lull of this induced sleep, the feral part of the hunter’s instincts could never be fully dulled.
Cassie smelled the finest fragrance of wildflowers and the natural musk of her lover’s arousal.
Donna, utterly enraptured in the sight before her, the veil opening capturing just enough for her wondering eye to have time to appreciate all she saw. Taking Cassandra's sleeping form in sections, capturing each like a photo still. Imprinted and etched. Burned and seared into her memory. The sweet torture of being able to remember her like this at a whim made a small whimper leave the larger woman. Each detail would never be lost on Lord Beneviento, her obsession for her lover wouldn't allow such a thing. Her spine cramped again, this time the sheer need to have dead cold flesh in her hands, holding more life than anything the Lord had ever beheld. In the ice cold reaches of cream-colored skin Donna found a blazing inferno.
Nails painted the color of the darkest ichor stood proud along the brawn of Cassandra's neck. Fingers honed and practiced. Long, slim and astoundingly dexterous, each individually pressed right where the Lord wanted. Palms pressed feather light along the smooth column of her lover’s throat.
The Lord squeezed.
Only along the sides of her lover’s neck, pressure alone. No need to crush her women’s windpipe. She wanted to hear her nightingale sing for her this night. The response was instant, a perfect sleep painted groan left the brown-haired women. Donna's veil fluttered in the still air as a soundless exhale left her. Veins danced along the doll makers hands as she squeezed again, this time taking the blunt end of her nails to the frigid skin under them. Lips, void of their usual bloodily appearance parted as another, be it louder groan left Cassies mouth. Sandstone colored eyes flitted under closed lids, a few flies broke off from her cheek and landed on Donna's hand. Drawing the silver-colored eye away from her prize to land on the insects on her left hand. They were sluggish but intent to make themselves known, mouthparts quickly drawing blood.
The Lord didn't flinch, watching as a small rivulet of black blood leaked down her hand, wrapping around her wrist only to drop down on Cassandra's collarbone. The air was permeated with the raw copper smell of the Lord’s blood, drawing a sleepy growl from Cassie. Her nose along with her flies had tasted their prize. Yet the effects of the tea were just strong enough to keep the smaller women affected. The Lord’s eye twitched at the reddening skin from where her ladies’ flies had bitten her.
Had Donna given permission to taste her blood?
Like a switch, the Lord’s was deftly agile when she needed. She less moved, more appeared next to the bed again. A cold patience, one Lord Beneviento always carried around her, had been tested. Tested in a way that needed a swift end. Cassandra’s flies, sensing more than feeling the change of demeanor, flying lazily back to her face and returning to the smooth alabaster of her cheek. The Lord went about positioning her doll on the bed. Invisible, writhing arms coming from Donna’s back. Each strong and just as deadly as the ones who lay clasped in front of her. The red bites along her left hand had stopped bleeding but the actual process of healing them would take time. Having marred the Lord’s perfect skin without her permission.
The indent of the phantom fingers along toned legs made Donna shiver. An extension of herself, she felt every inch of cold supple skin through those hands. They were her hands after all, just unseen. Two spreading her lovers’ legs, two clasping Cassandra’s arms and pulling them above her head. Successfully pining her little doll to the bed. The final set laying claim to her hips, pressing into the cold skin until it bruised the pale skin. Cassie groaned; eyes fliting open for a spilt second from the brazen pain. Donna’s many pairs of arms kept the vice grip on her lover, though her body went ridged next to the bed. The thought of almost waking her sleeping women excited her. Under the flowing black material of the dresses hems lithe well-muscled thighs were clamped together. The friction it caused felt delightful, along with the all the other various stimuli she was getting from the many limbs coming from the Lord’s back. It only added to the itch at Donna brain that could only be scratched by the sleeping form of her lady. The hunter felt the phantom limbs holding her down, the dreamscape she wadded through left much of the sensations fleeting as best. Having to chase down the feeling, only for it to slip from her grasp. Starting the chase all over again. She. Loved. This.
Donna gave Cassie just what she wanted, her body already more than willing to be explored. Hands along the smaller women’s hips, lifting just enough for Donna to see just how Cass had started to leak, slicking clinging to her ever so pretty pussy lips. Using her own hands the Lord removed her veil from her head, the flushed face hidden under bared to the room. Silver colored scar tissue, casting forth a shimmering like that of an iridescent moon. The smile on the Lords face only grew as the scared flesh came alive, leaving room for wickedly sharp teeth and the writhing mass to grow. The right side of the Lord’s face also grew many more teeth than should have been housed inside. The smile splitting her features, what snaked out of her mouth couldn’t be called a tongue. The appendage itself was split right down the middle, making two wiggling tongue like muscles. Each dripping with a very special mix of different fluids.
Donna again, appeared before the foot of the bed, its height only making to just shy of the tops of the Lord’s knees. Towering not only above mattress, but also above Cassandra. If only yellow eyes had opened in that spilt second. Maybe the hunter would have noticed the nefarious glint in the Lord’s eye. The absolutely manic look lurking just under the dead calm awash in her eye.
Unhinged would not even be cutting it close to all the dark thoughts running rampant in the Lord’s mind. All of Cassandra at her mercy. Only madness itself could comprehend the bond these two women shared. Veil dropped from fingers dusted with growing talons of their own. Cassie’s arms flexed, legs much the same. Still chasing sensations in her dreamscape. Body unfolding before her Lord, silently begging. A hunter begging to be turned into the rightful prey she was before Donna Beneviento.
“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine-mine mine mine.”
The word repeated like a mantra. Echoing from a mouth that should not have been able to produce any. The twin serpent like tongues growing in not only length but girth as well. Intertwining with each other as they each drew closer to the molten heat between Cassandra’s legs. Window frost-like patterns formed and danced over the scar tissue along the left side of the Lord’s face. Painting emotions the Lord could never speak aloud, never find the right words to describe the feeling of unraveling before Cassandra. Letting herself, her true self go forth and devour just what fed this dark fascination.
The keening noise that left Cassies’ mouth was nothing short of the sound of a universe being born. It drew not only a wail wrapped with pleasure, but also the unfounded loss of her dreamscape. Jolted out of the recesses of her subconscious. A subconscious controlled by none other than Donna herself, weaving her very will into it. The same way the glistening twin appendages weaved their way inside of both smaller women’s holes. The Lord could secrete a certain enzyme from the ridge covered glands along the underside of the tongues. Ones that were tailored just for her little doll here. Her own personal aphrodisiac, one that took hold instantly.
Eyelids snapping open as hazy yellow eyes met the outside world again. Trying to focus on anything long enough. Failing in truly spectacular fashion. Her attention snatched from her very soul as she felt pressure, the sweet ache awarded her whenever her Lord took her like this. Each time somehow more wonderous than the last time. Even with most of the Lords lower jaw having been overtaken by the wriggling fleshy dark matter that made up the mutation. Seeing Donna like this, primal and in her natural form made little else matter to Cassandra. Each thrust driving home just how much Donna owned her. Controlled her. A dogged want to possessive every iota of this women.
The waterwall behind the mist covered manor could not drown out the tortured cries of pleasure as Cassandra was ravaged beyond comprehension. Each time Donna curled the appendages deep inside her women, the skin stretching to accommodate the bulging mass of tongue like flesh deep inside of her womb. Six hands going unseen but most defiantly not unfelt pinning the hunter to the bed, forcing her to only lay there and take it all. Not that Cassandra would want it any other way.
If the power the Lord wielded could dethrone a ‘God’ if she merely willed it, what hope would her precious little doll have against her? Creating beautifully terrifying nightmares, Donna was the specialist. Giving all she knew her women could take, tasting her insides with revere. She would never ger enough to each pitiful beg for mercy, knowing if Cass truly wanted mercy she would swarm. Yet she stayed, a panting sweat covered mess. Voice hoarse and used as the two women stared at each other. The larger of the two still standing as stoic still at the end of the bed, hands clasped in front of her.
Sometimes not even a finger needed to be lifted for the Lord to get ‘just’ what she wanted.
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Mechamaru is a sad character, even though his anger at Shiki, to me, is honestly misplaced and more like self-loathing, envy, and commiseration.
It’s honestly sad what happens to Mechamaru because he did get the short end of the stick when it comes to Heavenly Restriction, didn’t he? He only wanted to have a healthy body, and in canon, he got it.
But what did it cost, really?
Because in the end, Mechamaru did in some way betray the jujutsu sorcerers. He can tell himself that he was desperate and he had the right to try and better his life when no one else cared to or was able to help him. He was in a shitty situation and tried fixing it first chance that presented it, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he betrayed his comrades. He indirectly (?)aided in the tragedy that happened by facitilating information to the curses, which HELPED Kenjaku’s plans, and he died for it. Here, he’s alive to suffer the consequences of ill-fated choices.
He wasn’t wrong to want it. He’s wrong because ultimately, his actions were an act of betrayal.
He feels remorse for his betrayal. He feels guilty. He feels angry at Shiki, because his gamble failed and here she stood as a shining bastion of a “perfect” life.
Though as seen in here, Shiki probably doesn’t give a single fuck about Mechamaru’s feelings. Only that his betrayal put the jujutsu society - and in turn, her family and friends - in jeopardy and that it went against the rules that Shiki was following ONLY because her family and friends wanted her too. Her moral and logic is pretty skewed, after all. Her first reaction to him being turned into a monster is to render him immobile VIA limbs breaking which honestly is NOT the first thing people do, but it’s admittedly in a twisted way the most optimal way to subdue transfigurated!Mechamaru.
TBH wrong is wrong. Betrayal is betrayal. Mechamaru isn’t an innocent victim who tried saving himself. How many more people would die and did die in the jujutsu world because he aided the curses? How many people died in Liyue because here the curses tried getting rid of Shiki?
Which brings me to another point: Whether it was voluntary or not, because of his betrayal which fed the curses informations and had Shiki hunting after them, Mechamaru ended up as a tool in the ambush against Shiki. Mahito tried using him as a shield, but unfortunately for him and the curses, Shiki’s reasoning is far too settled in pragmatic reasoning and logic to a certain point, after which she settled into brute force or death. She wouldn’t sacrifice herself for just Mechamaru, after all, nor be squirmish about breaking some limbs or killing some people.
Kinda shameless to be angry at the girl who you involuntarily aided in ambushing, no?
It’s just. The first time I read the short about Mechamaru (which was STILL amazing btw) I felt sorry for him.
The next few times I reread it though, I was like wait a minute, this doesn’t sound right, this guy is making Shiki to be the bad guy in interrogating him when he “just tried helping himself and he didn’t truly mean to betray the jujutsu society qwq!!!” because she has a perfect life but BITCH so many people just died LMFAOO Shiki here just doing her job and being hated, my poor girl (though she doesn’t care).
Mechamaru lost his gamble in using Mahito and turned into an even worse monster.
Likewise, the curses lost their gamble in trying to delete Shiki and were all basically wiped out in minutes lmao. They probably didn’t expect the Gojo Satoru Expy to actually be a Gojo Satoru 2.0 lol.
Shiki just doing her job, stuck in another world. :( And she had promised her cousin to make a detour to buy sweets, too rip. :(
(which brings me to another point i’m not gonna expand: Satoru and Shiki’s relationship? I LOVELOVELOVE IT!! The opposing powers they present! Satoru is not truly the sole “honored one”! Satoru has someone who somewhat understands the way he looks at the world! Who will stand by his decision and trust! Who’s willing to murder a bitch or a few for him! They’re two peas in a pod, sometimes HE has to be the moral compass for Shiki even! HIM! THE Gojo Satoru! A moral compass!!! 😂😂😂)
!! I am bouncing a bit in excitement from this haha.
Mechamaru! Is a very very unfortunate character. His attempt to outsmart Kenjaku and the Special Grade curses was not something that ended well for anyone. The information that he provided them allowed Kenjaku's faction to set up the test run at the Goodwill Event and break into the warehouse, stealing the Death Paintings and Sukuna's fingers. If we think about what happened in Shibuya, where Sukuna was able to cause as much devastation as he did because of ingesting the additional fingers... arguably Mechamaru played a definite role in allowing this situation to occur in the first place.
Mechamaru wants to be healed. He wants to have a normal body, and be a normal student of Kyoto High with his friends.
In exchange, he betrays the school -but he's not really betraying them, Mechamaru tells himself. Look, he's even been careful enough to extract a binding vow for his friends to be unharmed. And it's not as if he really intends to throw in his lot with Geto. As soon as he gets what he wants, he'll turn on them. Mechamaru doesn't need to kill them in order to win; all he needs to do is escape and find sanctuary with Gojo Satoru. And with the intel that he'll have in his hands, Gojo will definitely protect him. Then, they'll be able to counter their enemies properly from there-
We all know how that turns out in the end, though. The many casualties that result from Kenjaku's plans... Mechamaru might not be responsible, but he's certainly not blameless in allowing Kenjaku to set things into motion.
Mechamaru strikes me as a character who has a strong confidence and ego, which is balanced at the same time by a helpless sense of inferiority and anger. He knows that he's a powerful sorcerer, and he's the only sorcerer whose range covers an entire country -not even Gojo Satoru can do that! And Mechamaru is observant, and intelligent. He hates the limitations imposed upon him by his body, and he wants ever so badly to see for himself the world that he can only interact with through his puppets-
Shiki gets the brunt of that, in this particular AU.
Mechamaru lives. He lives, but he's angry and guilty and oh how he regrets, without truly regretting. Sorcerers are selfish creatures, and Mechamaru is no different.
Here Gojo Shiki stands in front of him, beautiful and powerful and perfect, looking down on him like Mechamaru means absolutely nothing. Given the turmoil that Mechamaru is currently experiencing... it's only natural that he lashes out at her.
(It's no excuse. But it is a reason.)
In contrast to Mechamaru's complicated feelings towards her, Shiki is fairly indifferent about him in return, despite his role as a lure in the 'ambush' for her. She simply protects him because she was assigned to retrieve Mechamaru for an interrogation. Shiki can't retrieve him if he's dead.
... So that just means she'll need to do her best to keep him alive, until she manages to find a way home.
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