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missrosiesworld · 1 year

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Lunar Festival with Ezra

As he had predicted, Finn informed me that I might discover Ezra engrossed in buying heavily discounted goods. So, I made my way toward a section of the marketplace where vendors sold herbs, spices, and other items that could prove useful to a local witch. A shock of white hair caught my attention, and when I called out his name, Ezra turned around to face me. "Oh, Maia!" he exclaimed, looking surprised before flashing a smile. "I didn't expect to see you standing there." He placed a neatly wrapped package of Skeletal Touch-Me-Nots into the pouch on his belt. The petals of the flowers were wilted and twisted into the shape of a sinister, grinning skull.

I raised an eyebrow curiously and asked him, "What do you plan on using those for?" He responded with a playful eye roll and motioned for me to follow him as he strolled towards the next stall. "I don't buy these for the insidious reason you're thinking. They're for medicinal purposes, not hallucinogenic ones."

I playfully roll my eyes and give him a light nudge on the arm while smiling, "I wasn't about to pass judgment." He chuckles and shakes his head. "I know you weren't. I just wanted to clarify that I'm not up to anything nefarious." We continue to meander from one vendor to another, and Ezra seems pleased to have my company.

I relish observing him as he eagerly explores the unique merchandise, admiring his enthusiasm and how skillfully he interacts with the diverse vendors. He haggles with a particularly obstinate herbalist over the price of her angelica root, and despite walking away with a scowl, his expression lightens up when he spots me. He winks at me, his eyes sparkling, and jokes, "They always fall for that one."

Returning his smile, I respond, "You seem to have quite the knack for this." He nonchalantly shrugs, but it's apparent that he's proud of his bargaining skills. "Running a business by yourself is difficult. You have to be smart," he pauses for a moment, before adding, "That reminds me, I need to pick out a new spell book. I filled up the last one." He looks down at me with a grin, then motions in the direction he wants to go. "Care to help me? There's a great craft stall that Finn showed me a while back." I nod in agreement, responding, "Of course. Lead the way."

We make our way through the bustling market, weaving past vendors selling everything from exotic spices to intricate tapestries. The colorful canopies overhead provide a warm shelter from the chilly night breeze that sweeps through the market. As we approach the corner of the market where the craft stall is located, Ezra points out various stalls along the way, detailing his past interactions with the vendors and recommending some of his favorite goods.

The warm glow of candlelight casts flickering shadows around us as we find the craft stall. The night air is thick with the sweet scent of incense, and the sound of distant music drifts through the market. Ezra's eyes light up as he spots a forest green, leather-bound book, its thick parchment pages almost begging to be filled with secrets and spells. He eagerly passes over his coins to the vendor, his fingers tracing the intricate designs on the cover. "I go through these quickly. I tend to be a bit of a scribbler," he explains with a grin as he flips through the pages.

I let out a soft chuckle and give Ezra a friendly pat on the back. "Well, this looks like the perfect book for you. Let's see what wonders you can create with it," I say before posing a question. "Do you use them purely for spells?" His fingers pause in tracing the pages, and after a moment's reflection, he shakes his head. "As I specialize in healing, I like to get lost in a good medical journal every now and again. It might not be conventional to study such things, but I find it helps me really understand what kind of healing spells I need to develop." With a slight tilt of my head, I gaze up into his bright green eyes with genuine curiosity. "What made you choose healing as your specialty?"

A sad look crosses his face as he gazes down at the book in his hand. "My Dad was killed when I was quite young. My magic had manifested, but I was completely helpless. From that day on, I promised myself that if anyone I loved was ever in danger, that I'd be able to help them. I haven't broken that promise just yet, and hopefully, I never will."

His voice is filled with determination, and I can sense the weight of his past on his shoulders. I place a comforting hand on his arm and offer my condolences, "I'm so sorry for your loss." He smiles bravely, and I'm struck by his resilience. After tucking the book safely away in his pouch, he grasps my hand and gives it a grateful squeeze. "Thank you."

He takes a deep breath, his eyes briefly flickering to where our hands meet before he continues, "I beat myself up over it for a long time, but I turned my pain into something that can help others. It's what my father would have wanted. I do it for him." I squeeze his arm as I give him a warm smile, "You're amazing, Ezra. I admire you."

"That means a lot coming from someone like you. You're so brave to do what you do." Despite the sadness that lingers in his eyes, I can see the determination and passion burning within him, and it only makes me admire him more.

My smile widens as he leans into my touch, and I can feel my heart swell with fondness. Despite the freezing cold, he radiates warmth. "Looks like we're both doing our part to save the world then." He chuckles, a closed-eyed smile on his face. "Yes, we are," he agrees, his eyes opening to meet mine with kindness and softness. "But really, thank you. I'm so lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful people."

Giving him one last caring squeeze, I reluctantly remove my hand. Ezra drops his gaze, his lashes kissing the tops of his freckled cheeks. He shivers, rubbing his hands together. "It's freezing. How about we go get a hot drink and you can tell me about that headache of yours?" he suggests, looking up at me with concern etched on his face.

Excitedly, I nod in agreement with Ezra's suggestion, feeling the chill of the cold air on my skin. "Sounds perfect," I reply, rubbing my hands together for warmth. We make our way to a cozy stall and order two steaming cups of hot chocolate, inhaling the sweet aroma as we wait. Once our drinks arrive, we take a seat on a pile of plush, mismatched cushions that the vendor had thoughtfully arranged. The hot chocolate is topped with a generous helping of whipped cream and marshmallows, making it the perfect treat for the chilly day. Comfortably seated, we sit in contented silence for a while, watching the passersby and chuckling at the sight of Piper chasing after a speedy Alkar.

Ezra takes a sip of his hot chocolate, shaking his head as he contemplates the chaos that Alkar might be causing. "I dread to think what he's getting up to." Holding his drink in his lap, Ezra turns his attention to me with concern etched on his face "How have you been feeling since...you know?" he asks, his worry evident in his gaze. I toy with the rim of my cup, shrugging. "I'm okay, apart from the fact that I slept all day and missed a meeting with Harry." I admit, grimacing at the memory of my displeased enforcer. “I think August wants me dead."

Ezra chuckles, playfully nudging his shoulder against mine. "I'm sure they don't. You'd certainly know about it if they did. Trust me." We both laugh, but I don't doubt that he's telling the truth. We finish our drinks, missing their warmth the second our cups are discarded. Ezra suggests finding something to do that might warm us up, so we follow the sound of music emanating from a nearby area of the market. I spot an unmistakable figure as we draw nearer, and I see Ezra visibly deflate as August turns and spots us. Their eye roll isn't subtle, but I try to put Ezra at ease by placing my hand on his back and giving him a reassuring smile. He takes a deep breath and returns the smile, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

August clings to their glass of mulled wine like a lifeline, sighing heavily as we approach. "Ezra, Maia. I trust you're both enjoying the festival?" Ezra clears his throat, looking up at those ice-blue eyes. “Yes, we are. How about you? That wine looks delicious.” They tilt their cup, studying the dark red liquid, a stick of cinnamon adding to its charm. “Yes, well, wouldn’t be the Lunar Festival without copious amounts of alcohol to pass the time, would it?” Ezra puts on a polite smile, but I can sense his discomfort as his back tenses beneath my hand.

“It’s been nice seeing you. We’d better get going,” Ezra says, looking at me for support. I give him an understanding smile, patting his back before placing my hand back at my side. I turn towards August and nod politely, "It was good to see you. We have to be on our way now." August nods in acknowledgement, "Well, enjoy yourselves, wherever you're headed. Farwell." We walk away in silence, and I can sense that Ezra is feeling a bit deflated after our brief encounter with the Enforcer General.

The new section of the market is noticeably more vibrant, bustling with a larger crowd than any other area. Ezra tilts his head, motioning for me to accompany him to a quieter spot. "You alright?" I inquire as we move away from the throng. Ezra lets out a soft sigh, his face contorted with sorrow as he gazes at me. “Sorry. I’m fine, I just… I find it hard seeing Gus.” He heaves a heavy sigh, casting his eyes downward. “They make it hard.”

Leaning forward, I meet Ezra's gaze and offer him a gentle smile. "If something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me about it, right?" He lets out a deep sigh, fidgeting with the hem of his coat and avoiding eye contact. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve known Gus since I was very young, and our friendship was never easy.” I nod in understanding. “They seem complicated.” Ezra nods once, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “They didn’t have much of a support system when they were growing up, and I think… well, I think they envied me. It sounds so silly saying it out loud.”

My eyes soften as I speak in a gentle tone, “Have you ever spoken to them about it?” He shakes his head slowly, “I’m sure they’ll come to me when they’re ready. Giving them space is important, that much I know.” I hum in agreement and offer, “If you ever need help or just a friendly ear, I’m here.” He looks at me with gratitude, his eyes shining. “I appreciate. Gus is a good person, though. One of the best. Don’t let our issues put you off them.” He clears his throat, bright eyes darting around the market.

"Anyway," he begins, smiling at me with a twinkle in his eye, "I heard a little rumor that there might be a band playing somewhere around here." Scanning the surroundings, his gaze settles behind me, and he inhales sharply before pointing, "Oh! Here, look..." I turn around, and sure enough, a band is setting up near the trinket stands. The music starts, and a crowd of people eagerly gathers around them, swaying and dancing to the beat.

Ezra steps closer, extending his hand with a cheeky wink. “May I have this dance, fair Hunter?” I smile and step forward, raising my hand. “I would be delighted, kind Witch.” As we move closer, Ezra takes my hand and gently places his other hand upon my waist. A faint blush appears on his face as he looks into my eyes and asks, “Are you ready?” The warmth of his hand against my skin sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel the heat of his body as he pulls me close.

Our hands intertwined, I feel the warmth of his grip as I place my other hand on his shoulder. I get lost in the glow of his green eyes as I breathlessly respond, “I’m ready.” A stunning smile spreads across his face, and he laughs, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Keep up,” he says, playfully challenging me as the music begins to swell around us.

Our bodies move in perfect sync with the cheerful and fast-paced music. As we spin and step to the beat, Ezra's laughter fills me with a sense of magic. Despite my best efforts, I find myself starting one too many times, completely entranced by the depth of his emerald eyes. Our bodies pressed closely together, I feel lost in the moment, almost forgetting where I am and who I am. As the song reaches its end, Ezra finishes the dance with a dramatic flourish, impressively dipping me back.

As he holds me tighter, laughter escaping from his lips as he flings me backward. Pulling me upright. I try to regain my composure, missing the feeling of his arms around me. He grins widely, his voice full of excitement, "That was amazing!" The sound of applause breaks me from my daze, and I realize that we had gathered quite an audience. But at that moment, all I can focus on is Ezra. He smiles at me, his cheeks tinted pink as his eyes soften, "You're quite the dancer. I'm impressed."

In the distance, the loud boom of the fireworks echoes through the night, and Ezra grabs my wrist, his eyes alight with excitement. “Quickly, we’ll miss them,” he says, tugging me along. We weave through the crowds, dodging people left and right until we reach the docks. We skid to a stop at the edge of the crowd, both of us breathless and laughing, our cheeks flushed with exhilaration.

Ezra’s grip on my wrist is firm and steady, and I can’t help but feel a rush of warmth spread through me at his touch. We both look up at the sky, the colors of the fireworks painting dazzling patterns against the backdrop of the twinkling stars. It’s a sight to behold, but I find myself wanting to take in another sight - the look on Ezra’s face as he watches the display, the joy and wonder etched into every line and curve.

Bathed in the shifting light, he looks like a work of art, his smile wide and far brighter than any firework. My heart swells with warmth as I take in the sight before me. “Thank you for tonight, Ezra,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. He turns to face me, his eyes wide with surprise. Slowly, he takes my hand, his fingertips feather-light against my palm. “I enjoyed myself tonight. With you,” he says softly as the last of the fireworks fade away. The crowd cheers, but it's like we're in our own little world. I find myself leaning closer to him, my body moving almost unconsciously. He smiles softly, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Then…

A terrible and blood-curdling scream rings out somewhere in the distance.

~ I'm a sucker for Ezra from When The Night Comes by Lunaris Games <3

#wtnc game #wtnc #when the night comes #ezralyon #ezra lyon #x oc

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iviarellereads · 1 year

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Gideon the Ninth, Act Five, Chapter 37

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(Gideon's skull icon, with the Roman numeral IX crossed out on the forehead, wearing her sunglasses) In which we find resolution, of a sort.

Gideon tells Harrow to get up, and suggests that she might stop screaming if she likes. Then, she tells Harrow to secure Camilla, she wasn't kidding about "not wanting an afterlife subscription to Palamedes Sextus's Top Nerd Facts."

Harrow calls Gideon's name, incoherently. Gideon says there's no time for sentimentality right now, as the bone wall gives way to the Lyctoral construct. Together, they take down the wall, half gone on its own. Gideon tells Harrow to pick up her sword and stop looking at her body. Unfortunately, the sword is much too heavy for Harrow. Gideon steadies her, but complains that her arms are "fucking noodles". Harrow says she's just a necromancer, and Gideon says they're going to be "lifting weights for the next myriad."

Somehow, they are cheek to cheek, both holding the sword. Harrow looks back at Gideon(1) and is, as always, startled by the colour, "deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea."

Gideon winks. Harrow says she can't do this. Gideon points out that it's already done. Harrow can't bear it. Gideon says she's already two hundred dead children, what's one more? Now, it's time to kick Cytherea's ass "until candy comes out", and Harrow should stop crying, they can't fight if she's crying.

Harrow said, with some difficulty: "I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it." "Yes you can, it's just less great and less hot," said Gideon. "Fuck you, Nav--"

Gideon says they can work this out when, someday, Harrow dies and their spirits are both free and have all the time in the afterlife. This time is no more or less than a hallucination from Harrow's brain chemistry trying to incorporate Gideon's. But Gideon's only ever known one thing: she knows the sword, and now, so does Harrow.(2)

Gideon pulls Harrow's body into position as Cytherea approaches.

"How do you feel, little sister?" she said. "Harrowhark's mouth said, "Ready for round three," and, "or round four, I think I lost track."(3)

Swords clash. Cytherea has had ten thousand years of this. In a fair fight, Harrow the Lyctor would just match her.

But it's not a fair fight. As it goes on, they see that Cytherea is struggling, her eyes flicker to a different colour, "two blue spots of someone else's fire." Her cancer, provoked by Pal's interference, eats her alive. Harrow reaches with her power, pushes it past Cytherea's barely-control.

"There," said Gideon, in Harrow's ear, her voice softer now. "Thanks, Palamedes." "Sextus was a marvel," admitted Harrow. "Too bad you didn't marry him. You're both into old dead chicks." "Gideon--" "Focus, Nonagesimus. You know what to do."

Cytherea grows almost more excited as the fight draws on, vomiting black blood. Gideon continues to fade, her presence withdrawing, the weight of her grip lightening.

Harrow placed the tip of her sword to the right of Cytherea's breastbone. The world was slow and chilly. "One flesh, one end," said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, "Don't leave me." "The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee,"(4) said Gideon. "See you on the flip side, sugarlips."(5)

Harrow drives the blade home. The cancer overtakes the ancient Lyctor.

Cytherea the First sighed in no little relief. Then she toppled over, and she died.

Harrow drops the sword with a great clatter. She runs to her cavalier's body, and pulls until she gets her off the iron spike, and can lay her out on her back.

Then she sat there for a long time. Beside her, Gideon lay smiling a small, tight, ready smile, stretched out beneath a blue and foreign sky.(6)

=====

(1) Literally, or figuratively? At the body, or the spirit? Why not both dot gif. (2) Matrix? Matrix. (3) Is a callback more or less effective just one chapter later? (4) The Douay-Rheims Catholic Bible translation of Ruth 1:17. As far as references to other media: the same passage, though a different translation, is used in the Shadowhunters series by Cassandra Clare as the oath taken by "parabatai", two Shadowhunters who are soul-linked fighters, never to be separated as a fighting pair. Clare was an infamous member of various internet fandoms over the years, which Muir would have been very familiar with. Given the use of this particular translation, I would lean toward it being used unironically as an expression of undying love, but it might have been a moment of real triumph to do something more meaningful and deep in implication than Clare, whose work is very popcorn-popular and relatively straightforward. (5) And here we come to the realization, even if we could have guessed earlier, that this is no longer a close third person perspective on Gideon's shoulder. This is now Harrow's story, fully. Thus, book 2. (6) Excuse me, some of that bone dust seems to have found my eyes. ;~;

#the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #gtn #gideon the ninth spoilers #gtn spoilers #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #cytherea the first

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crepuscular-gloom · 4 years

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Poptropica Island Ratings

okay I saw a post on here a while ago and someone rated the Poptropica islands. I remember agreeing with a lot of them, but they only went so far so a lot of the newer islands were missed out. I came across it again recently and got hit by a wave of nostalgia so I’m gonna do my own now. Unoriginal content very good. i’ll put a keep reading link to stop it from taking up too much space

Early Poptropica - mega nostalgia but kinda boring. I like the original Poptropicans being pixely and there is a goth gf in the sewers however the giant green spider scared the shit out of me as a kid and the idea of an aircraft graveyard made me sad so 6/10

Shark Tooth Island - also nostalgic but I didn’t complete it for a long time for some reason.. very short. it has a story but its there is nasty shark and people stuck on an island so make a calming potion. the medicine man looks like he is from viva pinata so 6/10

Time Tangled Island - VERY GOOD AND FUN AND HISTORICAL FUCK THAT AZTEC THO DICKHEAD. quite lengthy for an island but this is good because that means more time periods to explore. it’s also educational but i just care about restoring time. very legendary the iconic just jumped out - 10/10

24 Carrot Island - stupid pun point taken off. introduces Dr Hare and people are THIRSTY. you can dye your hair with milkshakes. i thought it was creepy as a kid honestly. i think its mind control or something. but i like it, it still has nostalgia value 8/10

Super Power Island - very legend like. i loooove the antagonists, especially copy cat but i think i had to look up a guide to beat her because i was dumb af. you need a licence to be a superhero but you are a superhero!!! very fun i like this one a lot 10/10

Spy Island - i remember sucking at this one as well as a kid. i think it fucks with peoples hair and i only remember because my character looks fresh 100% of the time and this island fucked it up i think. i don't really remember it tho. 5/10

Nabooti Island - it’s based on a Choose Your Own Adventure book so good premise. go around the world is also good. you have to get jewels i think. ngl i didn’t finish this one because i sucked at it so i’m just going off the wiki and how far i got into it. fuck the animal puzzle 7/10

Big Nate Island - who the fuck is Big Nate. i only remember the school climbing frame and a stink bomb. fuck you big nate we don’t have your comics in England 1/10

Astro-Knights Island - medieval knights.... IN SPACE?!?! COUNT ME IN. crazy jester bard guy antagonist. people are thirsty for him too. i’m pretty sure you end up in another dimension or something. cyborgs and shit 9/10

Counterfeit Island - bruh i loved this island. pretty sure antagonist is also making people thirsty. you have to go back to Early Poptropica Island to complete it, very cool. investigating crime is cool idea it’s l.a. noire in poptropica. the wiki says there is a glitch called anti-social clown and i have to say relatable 9/10

Reality TV Island - i think i completed this like twice and i remember jackshit. you get to see past characters tho so very good. it’s just doing challenges. 4/10

Mythology Island - VERY GOOD. LEARN ABOUT MYTHOLOGY. you can fight hydra and other creatures, you meet Zeus you meet Hades, Aphrodite is a bitch. 9/10

Skullduggery Island - pirates are always good no matter what. apparently it is one of the hardest islands which explains why i never completed it but you fight other pirates and sea monsters for doubloons or some shit sounds cool to me 8/10

Steamworks Island - steampunk is good. i remember completing this and thinking it was interesting and weird to look at. i think the atmosphere is was lonely tho. there’s a boss battle against a plant i think. otherwise i don’t fuckin remember 7/10

Great Pumpkin Island - it’s Peanuts so it’s nice. very nice and simple. it’s just about the great pumpkin except you’re there. 6/10

Cryptids Island - GOD TIER. CRYPTIDS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA. some of it is scary tho. the jersey devil just fucking staring at you from the window was a shit the bed moment for a kids game. also before the islands got rebooted, it was one of the only islands to have sound effects, i.e. when the chupacabra bursts out the box. honestly because of the balls on this kids game to scare children and also being good island 10/10

Wild West Island - the only thing better than pirates is cowboys. i don’t really remember it but you do go against an outlaw gang. i like cowboys 10/10

Wimpy Wonderland Island - Jeff I know you made doawk and poptropica but did you have to show it. ngl i liked it because i like doawk. but it’s kinda... creatively bankrupt i guess. 3/10 2 points because Rodrick is there

Red Dragon Island - i think more time travel but just to old Japan. you have to save a girl. that’s all i remember. also i think there is a nasty samurai guy. but also evil dragon. i can’t remember because for the longest time this was a premium account only island so i never got to finish it for the longest time. that was a dick move 7/10 for that alone.

Shrink Ray Island - cool premise but this island expects me to learn morse code 3/10

Mystery Train Island - detectives? on a train? very nice. basically murder on the orient express except no murder and thomas edison is there and also various other 1700/1800 nerds

Game Show Island - basically Reality TV except it’s to save the world from robots. 5/10

Ghost Story Island - wow iconic. this is the only island with voice acting and it’s to fucking jumpscare you i shat myself. ghost hunting, very cool 10/10

S.O.S Island - it’s basically Titanic mixed with Moby Dick. it’s ok 6/10

Vampire’s Curse Island - i reaaaally like this one. i like vampires. it has a vampire daddy in it so. he kidnaps a teenage girl tho because he thinks its the love of his life who is dead. kinda weird. he does stop being insane at the end tho and says sorry and dies. the girls bf is a dickhead tho. 9/10

Twisted Thicket Island - i think you’re saving a forest from becoming housing. i really like it because it introduces various folkloric creatures like the nokken. i only remember the nokken because i went on akinator to see if he knew what it was and i don’t think he did so i added it and it’s photo to his database. or maybe it was just his photo but i remember uploading something to akinator. 8/10

Poptropolis Games Island - i don’t think i liked this one 3/10

Wimpy Boardwalk Island - Jeff. 2/10 1 point added because Rodrick is also there

Lunar Colony Island - space is good. do i remember this island tho? no. i think theres aliens tho. 5/10 because i like space and aliens.

Super Villain Island - it brings back the most memorable villains like binary bard and black widow. you find out why they are evil. pretty chill 8/10

Charlie and The Chocolate Factory Island - what do you expect 5/10

Zomberry Island - the last of us except i think people are just eating nasty berries really. i like it it’s spooky 7/10

Night Watch Island - Paul Blart Mall Cop 6/10

Back Lot Island - you make a film. i can’t remeber it like at all. 6/10 because it sounds ok

Poptropolis Games Island Part 2 - fuck off 2/10

Virus Hunter Island - i don’t think i completed this one either. however it is one of those inside the human body things which is always cool if cliche. 8/10

Mocktropica Island - very satirical what if about if poptropica was run by assholes. ironic since a bunch of islands were made premium only for a while. pretty sure the bonus missions still are too which is why i’m not mentioning them. funny tho 7/10

Monster Carnival Island - spooky yes. people thirst over the ringmaster raven guy too. theres a spooky clown on the ferris wheel. i don’t remember much other than i liked it because it was about monsters in a theme park. 9/10 i remember it was surprisingly short tho

Survival Island - castaway except it’s you. i don’t remember it either lmao. i got out of touch with old poptropica real bad by this time so my next ratings might be unfair sorry. pretty sure it also becomes the most dangerous game tho and some guy wants to actually fucking kill you. ballsy. 7/10 because it sounds ok i should maybe play it.

Mission Atlantis Island - i like atlantis but i didn’t play this one either. you see deepsea creatures which are spooky so extra points 8/10

PoptropiCon Island - poptropica’s answer to comicon. now i did play this one for some reason but i don’t remember it too well either. i was 14 when it came out so. sounds like yu-gi-oh so good. 7/10

Arabian Nights Island - didn’t play it i think it’s just telling the story. it’s a cool story so 7/10

Galactic Hotdogs Island - what the fuck 1/10

Mystery of The Map Island - vikings are cool. island seems very short tho. 5/10

Timmy Failure Island - who the fuck. this would be more impactful if i read these fucking things but i don’t. who the fuck are you timmy. i guess it’s called failure for a reason. (that was mean sorry) 1/10

Escape from Pelican Rock Island - prison break, nice idea. you have like a twin in this one. seems a bit repetitive sometimes tho. theres like 7 days of doing similar things. 6/10

Monkey Wrench Island - it was created to be the new tutorial, i.e. an actual tutorial rather than Early Poptropica. very fast and boring, especially if you already know everything. 2/10

Crisis Caverns Island - i know nothing about this. even the wiki is incomplete. maybe that means its shit then. 1/10 the wiki doesn’t even care too much about this one.

Greek Sea Odyssey - more ancient greece is always good. you get to beat the shit out of zeus this time 8/10

Snagglemast Island - all you do is collect coins. another tutorial one. 1/10.

bonus: home island. legit just a hub. points added because you can do a lot of customisation here and pick up a pet that doesn’t cost credits. 4/10

DOUBLE BONUS: the little haunted house mini thing. very good because spooky costumes, spooky house fun little monster party. 10/10

#poptropica #feel free to add your opinions #do you agree #or disagree #i get unfair because i stopped playing a loooong time ago #tho i sometimes jump on #if you see me i'm called chilly skull #edgy i know but i made it when i was 7 #poptropica islands #this felt like writing a goddamn essay enjoy

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spookybias · 3 years

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[ attractiveness everywhere, stupidity everywhere ] — kang taehyun

pairing: kang taehyun x gn! reader. genre: fluff, crack. warning: mention of bugs, mc doesn't have any friends. for: @ficscafe's dialogue prompt event. word count: 1960 note: obviously i wasn't sure how to end this T_T

prompts: #22: "stop staring, it’s creepy" + #23: "what the hell are you wearing?" + #25: "you got something on your face." "what? where?" "your stupidity. it’s everywhere."

You shrieked at the sight of a tick crawling up your leg, and immediately began swatting at the skin in an attempt to slap it and any comrades that might have kept it company off of you. As a cold breeze passed, you brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself in a hug. The thought of more ticks crawling all over you, consuming your blood and body in their tiny, red glory, sent shivers to your spine. The wait for your guardian to come pick you up from school was beginning to feel endless, and although the sun was shining, the warmth was certainly not existent on this particular day.

The thought of having to wait longer in the chilly weather only produced more thoughts of ticks and ants and other bugs finding the time to crawl on you. Anxiously, you dusted off your tutu skirt and legs once more, and even your jean jacket every few minutes. You thought that waiting at a nearby cafe instead of at the high school grounds was a better option, considering you refused to let any of your peers find out that you were still being picked up by someone. But you weren't expecting to become the seven course meal for some ticks.

The sunlight began to beam down. You were gracious for the heat to finally be hitting your shivering physique, but immediately became irritated at the brightness that you were sure would blind you if you sat at the table for another half and hour. You rose a hand to your head, trying to block out the sunlight, and caught sight of a boy from your school making his way over.

You realized who it was, and your knees began to tingle. You were eighty-five percent sure that the tick hadn't bit you, and that the twinkling panic in your body was due to the pretty guy plopping down in one of the seats across the table. Taehyun shuffled through his backpack, pulling out some snacks.

The desire to impress one of the cool kids from you school flew in like a pigeon at the sight of bread. You leaned back in your chair, legs crossed in what you hoped was a sexy angle, and twirled a piece of your hair around your fingertips. Before you realized what you were doing, you made a mental note of everything that was attractive about taehyun; his half brown, half blonde hair, his pearly whites, and his gentle but assertive hands. overall, his face was amazing. You mumbled to yourself as you watched him eat his animal crackers, unaware of just how creepy you appeared.

"Is there something you need?" Taehyun looked up from his notebook and sighed. He picked up his pack of crackers and held them out to you. "Are you hungry? Do you want some?" He waved the food in front of your face.

You were left dumbfounded. The tone of his voice made you feel like you were some kind of wild animal trying to prey on him, and he was trying to distract you in order to escape. You knew you weren't the best around people, but never predicted that the boy you'd seen people swoon over for ages talked to others like they were beneath him. "No, I don't want anything from you." It came out much more rude than you had intended. perhaps you were something feral, and your defensive instincts had kicked in.

Taehyun blinked twice before setting his pack of crackers back down. "Stop staring, it's creepy." Then he looked down, taking note of your appearance. He had never seen someone combine a jean jacket and a tutu skirt in forty degree weather. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Feeling self-conscious, you pulled your knees up to your chest again, tugging at your skirt. "What? You think I'm weird or something?" You weren't trying to sound so targeted, but you were used to people picking on your taste in everything, and attacking first had become your immediate reaction to others. "You don't have to sit here."

"Calm down," Taehyun held his hands up with a look of so much disbelief that you wondered if you seemed like you were about to shoot. "You seemed cold, even from all the way over there." Your eyes followed his thumb pointing over his shoulder to the nearest crosswalk, the direction he had come from earlier. "And it's no wonder. You're wearing a skirt in weather like this."

"I thought I looked cute..." You mumbled into your arms crossed over your legs. "Besides, you have no control over what I wear. I can show as much leg skin as I want to." You ended your sentence with a pout.

"I'm not saying you don't look cute." Taehyun looked directly into your eyes. "It's nice seeing an already attractive person in a strange, but nice outfit." Your face started to feel hot. "And you're right, I have no control over what you want to wear. I was just concerned is all. It's freezing and I know you're cold in that skirt."

"So you care?" The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could catch a hold of what you were saying. You weren't exactly used to people who weren't your guardian worrying about you.

Taehyun rolled his eyes and flipped to a new page in his notebook. "I would rather you don't pass out from the temperature right in front of me."

"My guardian usually tells me if it's hot or cold," You went on to say, no longer remembering that Taehyun was one of the cool kids, and instead eating up the idea that someone seemed interested in you. "The sun was out, so I assumed it would be better weather today."

Look at me, you thought to yourself, talking about the weather with someone handsome.

"You have a phone right?" Taehyun suddenly questioned.

Your eyes widened, a tiny bead of sweat dripped down the side of your face. You managed to stutter out, "Y-yes. I do. W-why?"

"Phones have weather apps, idiot. Start checking yours." Taehyun didn't bother to look up from his book. You wondered if he was still interested in what you had to say, if he had more questions after this one. "If you don't have the mental capacity to do that, then at least open your window and stick your hand out."

"Oh ok." You screamed into your skull. You had let yourself get a little too excited about Taehyun's question. You were brought back to reality. Taehyun was a cool kid, and you were a weird new student, an outsider. There was no way he'd give you his number.

The clouds moved in, blocking the sunshine that had previously been annoying you. Taehyun's appearance had made you forget about your irritation entirely, though. It was silent except for the occasional sound of the cafe door a few feet away swinging open joined by the sound of a customer's footsteps as they power-walked out with whatever they had bought. You wanted to talk to Taehyun some more, but wasn't sure what you could possibly say that hadn't already been said to the boy a million times —that day.

He was just that popular.

Taehyun jumped at the sudden sound of a slap on skin. You shrieked at the sight of an ant on your leg. Taehyun could distract you from the cold and the sunlight, but not from your worst nightmare coming true.

"Oh my gosh, they're eating me!" You wailed.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Taehyun closed his notebook and put it away. It was impossible for him to get some studying (and snacking) done with you around. "You really are crazy."

"There was an ant, and earlier there was a tick. Am I gonna die? They've been attacking me all day!"

Taehyun squinted. He wondered if you were mentally okay. Maybe the lack of social interaction was the cause of your eerie behavior. "Ants aren't much of a problem, but did the tick bite you?"

"No, I don't think so." You patted down your clothes.

"Then you're fine," Taehyun started to pack up his things. "I mean, if the tick did bite you, it's possible that your legs could go numb and you'd never walk again—"

"WHAT?!" You weren't sure if your life was flashing before your eyes or if the sun's demonic brightness had finally gotten to you.

Taehyun stared blankly at you. "You got something on your face."

"What? Where?" Panic began to strike again at the thought of a bug crawling on your cheek.

"Your stupidity. It’s everywhere." Taehyun grabbed his bag and stood up. "And I'm starting to believe it might be contagious, so I'll go now."

"You're leaving?" You scrambled around for your bag on the back of the chair and followed suit.

"Yeah, my ride should be here in a few minutes. I'm just going to stand by the corner." Taehyun walked off. You stood frozen in place.

"T-Taehyun!" You called out.

"Yes, ____?" He looked over his shoulder expectantly. "I don't have all day," He reminded as he took a look at the invisible watch on his wrist.

"You know my name?" You didn't think anyone at your school knew your name. No one talked to you unless they hadn't been paying attention to what the teacher was saying and needed a recap.

Taehyun turned around and looked at you. "Of course I know your name. We're in the same grade."

Oh. You had gotten ahead of yourself again. "Taehyun." You fiddled your fingers and lowered your voice. "Can I stand next to you while you wait for your ride?" It was silly, really, but that was the kind of person you were.

Taehyun continued walking. "Yeah, sure. Stop being creepy about it." There was a hint of teasing in his voice and a growing smile on his face. You were so stupid and weird, and that made him want to learn more about you.

And so you stood beside Taehyun for the next three minutes, utter and comforting silence surrounding you both. You thought you looked like two strangers who talked to each other and stood next to each other like they weren't strangers at all. You shook your head, letting the desire to be close to Taehyun shake. He'd probably let anyone stand next to him on the sidewalk.

A black van with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. It looked suspicious and you wondered if Taehyun was quite the suspicious character. You also wondered if you should probably run as far away as you could from the van. Then the door opened, and you caught a glimpse of an older guy with red hair sitting inside.

"Hurry up, Taehyun. We're gonna be late to game night, and I just know Beomgyu and Kai are hiding all the good cards." The guy peaked his head out and eyed you. "Taehyun you have an interesting taste."

"Your hair is weird," You immediately shot back.

Taehyun turned around. "Do you need a ride?" You gulped as you watched him put his bag in the car.

"Uh, no my guardian should be on their way. And I'm not allowed to take rides from strangers." You scratched your head awkwardly. "Not that I would want to ride with that weird guy in the back," You managed to finish.

Taehyun chuckled. "I'll leave first. Don't wait here on the corner by yourself, though. Someone might mistake you for a prostitute. It's not exactly safe," Taehyun warned. "See you at school."

"Got it." You retreated back to your empty cafe table, and watched from afar as Taehyun's car drove our of sight.

155 notes · View notes

babyybitchhh · 3 years

Text

Shigaraki x Reader 18+

Title: Crybaby

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 12,290

Warnings: I'll be honest and say I'm not entirely sure how to tag some of this so proceed with caution. Infantilization, forced age regression, mental age regression, non consensual regression, ageplay, mentions of baby bottles and pacifiers, coercion, general noncon and dubcon, diddling, vaginal fingering, involuntary urination, wetting, mention of forced third party bathing, diapers, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, creampie, excessive use of 'Tomu-nii', mention of sex slaves, a brief but explicitly violent death mention towards the start, overall very questionable decisions from both me and Shigaraki

A/N: I will not be taking any questions at this time, thank you.

( @tomurasprincess)

♥♥♥♥

There was a fine line between a gift and a burden.

A new video game, for example, is something people were generally happy to receive and there was no obligation to slave over it at all hours of the day, unless you wanted to. A puppy, on the other hand, came with a certain amount of responsibility that couldn’t be side lined until Tomura decided to deal with it. There was no save button, no coming back to it later. He had to be vigilant to some degree, mindful of the life that was now in his hands, and that wasn’t something he was accustomed to by any stretch of the imagination. He couldn’t stand it. Didn’t even really possess the vernacular needed to describe exactly how much it pissed him off that he was suddenly expected to take care of someone - something else.

It was bullshit.

Standing over your prone form sprawled out on the cluttered floor he thinks, not for the first time, about ending it right here and now. It would be easy, surely. One touch of his hand and you’d be gone. Disintegrated to mere dust and nothing more than a vague, unpleasant memory in the back of his mind. You deserved it by simple virtue of being such a damn inconvenience but, just as every other time, he hesitates.

Not because you don’t even realize the danger you’re in as you innocently kick your legs back and forth in the air, all your wide eyed, dopey attention locked on the tv screen. Tomura is not so soft as to consider a sneak attack you don’t even see coming an insult to his pride. He would’ve been showing you mercy, actually, because if he didn’t fear upsetting All for One so much he’d have preferred to wrap his hands around your scrawny little neck instead. Give you a good throttle or two. Squeeze until his knuckles were a stark white against your purpling blue skin. He could almost envision what you would look like, all bloated and full of blood from burst capillaries and reddened eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

His cock stirs in his pants and his hatred for you grows with it. He couldn’t stand you or what you represented, a sudden addition to his life that he never asked for but couldn’t get rid of, and the fact he was getting stiff from his morbid fantasies was certainly your fault too. Everything was your fault. Right down to the most minor of inconveniences, you were to blame - even if it happened before you were dropped into his lap with all the to-do of a posh, overly indulgent birthday present. It was you. You, you, you, you you you youyouyouyouyou -

“Tomu-nii?”

With a jolt, he snaps out of it. The haze lifts and his blown out eyes focus in on your tubby little face, now turned over your shoulder to glance back at him. Tomura isn’t sure when you realized he was looming over you like some horrible, sickly wraith and he knows even less how it is that you show no fear towards him. Were you really so stupid that you couldn’t sense his desire to not only kill you but make you suffer? So blind that you didn’t see the way his bony hands fisted at his sides with a purpose and not in idle reflex?

No. It wasn’t that you were as unintelligent as a brain dead sheep happily trotting off to slaughter. Rather, it’s because that was what All for One had designed you to be.

Tomura wouldn’t claim to understand how, exactly, his mentor had gotten these results but he knows enough to recognize the signs. You’d been stripped of everything in a way that far exceeded mere surface level nudity. All for One had gone even deeper than that, past flesh and bone and right into the heart of what made you you. The brain.

He had no doubt that a quirk had been used, the specifics of which he couldn’t even begin to fathom, but the tinkering and rewiring had done its job exceedingly well, in fact. While your body was that of a young adult woman, early to mid 20’s if he had to wager a guess, your mind was something like that of a toddlers. You could speak just fine but the enunciation was sloppy, your words childish and limited to small, easily communicable sentences. You picked up on things surprisingly fast, perhaps even a little too well if the way he’d heard you let out a soft, half hearted ‘fuck’ earlier was anything to go by. But you slipped up just as easily and he was getting real tired of making sure you went and sat on the toilet instead of pissing all over his (no doubt already smelly) carpet. Living in his own mess was one thing. Living in someone else’s was another matter entirely.

Nothing about this was in error, though. You were exactly what All for One intended for you to be - little more than an animal for him to look after but with arguably higher stakes involved - and he’d had enough. It’d only been a single day, a full 24 hours since you were dropped into his room, and he was already at the end of his patience.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like that stupid cartoon I put on for you?”

You actually had the audacity to pout at him, jutting your lower lip out and puffing your cheeks as if that was supposed to make him feel anything other than an even stronger urge to take you out of this world. “S’not that. Mm’ just bored. You’re no fun.”

Tomura very nearly lunges at you with outstretched hands, All for One be damned, but your next words stop him in his tracks.

“I thought maybe you were coming to play with me.”

Play with you? He would’ve laughed if only he could find even a sliver of real humor in this situation. This was a joke, if not because of the absurdity of it all then at least because he wanted to play with you alright. He wanted to play a game that started with you screaming in shrill terror and ended with a chilly body laid out on his bedroom floor. That sounded like more fun than a barrel of kittens.

He stills himself, though, and snobbishly peers at you down the length of his nose. “I don’t play games with brats. Sorry.”

That only makes you pout even more. “Meanie.”

“Watch your fucking cartoon,” Tomura grits out through gnashing, angry teeth, unreasonably irritated by your persistent refusal to cooperate. “Before I make you.”

He isn’t even really sure if that threat makes any sense at this point, so thrown off by your mere presence in what should’ve been his space that he can barely make heads or tails of his own thoughts anymore. But the dramatic way you squawk in displeasure and throw yourself out flat on the floor placates him somewhat. You were easy to rile up, and he would have been a boldfaced liar if he’d said he didn’t get a kick out of that. Tomura had never felt quite so cruel, so much like an adolescent bully looking to make his problems someone else’s as when he was working you up into a proper fit.

It was easily the most enjoyable aspect of this arrangement so far, and he watches with nothing short of smug satisfaction as you pound your hands on the floor in pent up frustration. It was laughably easy to picture what they’d look like, well groomed after a manicure and with a fresh coat of polish on the nails. You looked like you’d probably been the sort of woman who would go with reds. Fierce and bold, as much a statement as your pretty face, which was currently scrunched up and pressed tight against the carpet in front of his tv. Those same hands were plain and unadorned now, squeezed into tight little fists that were about as harmless as they could get. Tomura probably would’ve considered a turtle more of a pressing threat than you right now.

“Crybaby.” He spits the word out like it’s poison. “Does that make you feel better? Huh? Throwing a tantrum just because you’re not getting your way?”

“Mm’ not a crybaby!” You scream into the carpet. The contrast between your plushy figure and your behavior is disturbing on some very real, intrinsic level and that only seems to add fuel to his fire.

“Hah! That’s funny. You certainly look like one, you know that? What would you even think of yourself if you were in your right mind, I wonder.”

“Mm’ not!” Your incessant screeching rises in pitch and Tomura is almost positive you aren’t even really hearing him anymore, but he decides he doesn’t care.

“Embarrassing. Maybe I should have Kurogiri bring me a bottle since you want to act like a baby so much. Or would you like a pacifier instead? Hmm? Would that make you feel better, princess?”

“Nooooo!”

Your feet start kicking the air again, violently rather than in placid distraction, and the motion draws Tomura’s gaze to the seat of your onesie. Pink and humiliatingly infantile for a grown woman to be wearing, he’d looked at it with nothing short of contempt up until now. But the (no doubt exhausting) flex of your legs bunches the loose cotton, making it gather around your upturned ass and in turn emphasizes the convenient button flap across the back. Now that he’s actually looking at it, he’s almost positive it was wide enough to expose your entire rear to the world with little more than a quick snap of his fingers. Maybe even wide enough to expose other things too …

Tomura jolts with all the force of a sudden electric shock when you cry out his name or, rather, the ridiculous moniker you’d given him. He’d like to know who’d planted that particular seed in your head - if it was All for One’s idea of a twisted joke or if Kurogiri had really thought being called niichan by a woman who may or may not actually be older than him would make Tomura feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It doesn’t exactly matter now, though, because the wet quality of your voice makes his cock spring up in his pants. He’s mildly horrified with himself, far more comfortable with his earlier fantasies of killing you, but there’s no helping it anymore. Not when you say his name like that. Not when the tears he’d initially thought were crocodilian at best were so thick and heavy in your throat that the syllables come out garbled and almost incomprehensible.

He’s not sure what he intends to do, but he shuffles closer.

You’ve started to tire out now and the kicking slows before stopping all together. He watches your ankles cross over one another in the air, as if you were trying to self soothe on some level by physically keeping yourself together, but it doesn’t seem to do much in the way of good. Your shoulders were still trembling with the lingering traces of your fit, and he can hear you mewling into the abrasive carpet like a wounded animal. It was clear that you were hurting because of him - and not just as a result of his teasing. After the complete and utter deconstruction of your mind, you were probably scared without even really knowing why. Confused, but too lost in the quirk induced stupor that had left you in this sorry state to seek out answers.

He hadn’t bothered to test this theory yet, but Tomura would have been willing to bet good money that All for One left you with very little inside that thick skull of yours. It just made sense, after all. For what good was a doll with memories of her past life? What would he have possibly gotten out of playing house with someone who fought him every step of the way, either out of embarrassment or repulsion towards him as a person?

No. You were a blank slate in the strictest sense. His to mold however he deemed fit and with no recollection of who you were, who you’d been or even who you’d wanted to be, he was free to do whatever he damn well pleased.

There was still raging contempt for you burning within his chest, certainly. You were an annoying, unnecessary burden on him and there was no getting around the fact that he still wanted you gone. But the spark igniting his gut is even stronger and, for better or worse, it momentarily overrides his better judgement.

So he sinks down onto his knees, directly behind you, and reaches out to tentatively palm the swell of your ass. Pinky held away, so as not to disintegrate you, which surprises him somewhat given how vivid his fantasies of killing you had been. He doesn’t get to linger on that for very long though, because you grow still at his touch and your pathetic sniveling quiets to a soft, almost hopeful sniffle. Tomura bites back a crude snort, just barely managing to catch himself before he backpedals and hisses another insult at you. He could probably take what he wanted with any given method, he didn’t have to be nice about it, but somehow the alternative just felt wrong. Physically you were an adult, but with the mental state of a child it felt a bit like taking advantage of an innocent and he wasn’t a complete monster.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, the word foreign on his tongue. “I shouldn’t have been so mean. Will you forgive me?”

You squirm and push your face further into the carpet. “Mhm.”

He doesn’t smile. But he does take that as an incentive to push forward, and he starts caressing your backside with slow, cautious circles. “Do you really want me to play with you that bad?”

“Mhm.”

Hesitating, Tomura considers his next words very carefully. “Fine. I’ll play with you. But I get to choose the game.”

You don’t immediately respond and he starts to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Overestimated his ability to be diplomatic and conscientious - which wouldn’t exactly have come as a surprise. But then you shift on the floor, tension draining from your body as you turn your head so you aren’t suffocating in the carpet anymore. “Okay.”

His brows lift in surprise only to then knit together. It was that easy? He’s not so sure he trusts it but, dropping his gaze back down to your ass, he gives the doughy soft flesh an experimental squeeze. Your only response is a soft, faltering sigh that seems to help you relax more. This, too, seems a little too good to be true but he keeps going anyway.

When a few minutes of kneading your defenseless backside does nothing to upset you, Tomura starts to get bolder. He slowly brings his opposite hand forward and latches onto the other cheek with four fingers, massaging both sides in tandem. He’d had the unfortunate luck of seeing your bare ass late the previous evening, after you’d emptied your bladder all over the blanket he’d tossed you to sleep on which had resulted in an aggressively administered bath for you and a frustrated headache for him. He hadn’t paid too much attention at the time, far too angry to be horny, but he knew enough to realize that you were unexpectedly voluptuous under that onesie.

The garment itself was so oversized it hid even the smallest hint of the womanly figure underneath. He probably would’ve forgotten all about it, pushed to the back of his mind in favor of more pressing matters (like getting rid of you) but now that he’s got his hands on your butt it’s all he can think about. The way your full tits jiggled when he’d non too gently manhandled you into the tub. The frustratingly cute lower belly pouch that bulged when you sat down, crying, on the porcelain surface. The way your thighs molded to whatever position he’d yanked them in so he could hose you off like a filthy stray. He’d actively avoided looking at what was between your legs, in fear of what he’d see as much as stubborn refusal, but looking back on it now he isn’t sure how he hadn’t given in to temptation.

Now, however, he was suddenly more interested than ever in finding out what your pussy looked like and, hooking his long index fingers into the flap, he starts to unlatch it one button at a time.

You make no move to stop him. Don’t even protest or question what he’s doing. It’s almost as if just having his attention on you is enough, and Tomura’s mouth pulls back in a sneer at the mere thought. You were so damn stupid for trusting him like this, completely oblivious or uncaring about what his intentions were. He could be as violent with you as he wanted. He could erase you from this existence with the briefest touch. But you just lay there, your shoulders slowly rising and falling with each even breath you draw, and he can’t decide if that feeling clawing at the back of his throat is hatred or guilt.

But there’s no real reason to stop now, so he carefully peels back the flap of fabric once he’s got it completely unfastened. Bare skin greets him, a perfectly exposed strip of swelling flesh that seems all the more enticing with pink cotton framing it so nicely. He pauses long enough to lick his dry, cracked lips. The weight of his stiff cock strains against the inside of his zipper, twitching eagerly when he reaches out to hesitantly touch your back side again.

The sensation of a real, living person under his fingertips makes his breath come a little faster. Still, you don’t move though and he picks up right where he left off, roughly groping your ass cheeks with barely contained excitement until he gets so vigorous that you whimper.

“Shh. I’ll try not to be so rough.” Tomura shushes you, throaty and barely more than a murmur.

You settle back into place, thankfully, and he takes that chance to spread your cheeks open. He gets a brief glimpse of the puckered hole hidden inside, white hot static racing straight to his groin, and he lets out a rumbling groan. His fingers squeeze into flesh again and he pulls, baring you entirely to his voracious eyes. The tight muscle twitches, winking at him, and his attention drops to the smallest satiny peak of your slit. He can just barely see it, mostly hidden behind the pooling fabric bunched under the swell of your ass, but it’s more than enough to make him feel dizzy.

“Shit,” he sounds winded even to his own ears. “You’ve got such a nice body.”

To his surprise, you actually perk up at that. “Really?”

Tomura almost snaps at you on impulse, so irritated by the sound of your voice that he nearly forgets what he’s trying to do. Quelling himself, though, he tugs at the bottom half of your onesie until he can see the plushy soft lips of your pussy. You look so inviting, so warm and real he can hardly even stand it.

“Really.” He croaks. “How old are you again?”

You seem to think about that. “Mm, I dunno’!”

He frowns. Contemplates that for a long beat. But the coarse hair curling around your slit seems answer enough, for him at least. You weren’t actually a child. You just sounded like one, acted like one, dressed like one. That wasn’t what was getting him so painfully hard though. It was the fact you were a woman, physically, and he’d never gotten to see one up close and personal like this before. Why hadn’t All for One just given him a proper sex slave instead of one that threw tantrums and cried at the drop of a dime? Was this really what his mentor had intended for him to do with you?

“Tomu-nii?”

Drawing a sharp breath, he brings his attention up to bark at you to be quiet but the words catch when he finds you looking at him over your shoulder. He can feel his cheeks starting to warm, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He flounders for a moment. Then, awkwardly clearing his throat, he decides to fall back on his original excuse. “This is the game I mentioned earlier. You wanted to play, right?”

You nod your head, but you don’t look entirely certain about that. “I do but … aren’t games s’posed to be fun? This is boring!”

His mouth presses into a thin line. It hadn’t occurred to him that you might not be content to just idly sit by while he molested your slutty little body, but if it was fun you wanted then he could certainly give you that. “This was just the warm up. Roll over and I’ll show you how to play.”

The way your eyes light up almost makes him regret this decision. It’s too late though, you’re already twisting over on to your back with your elbows braced on the carpet so you can stare up at him. Stupid and expectant.

He clicks his tongue.

Reaching out to grab your wide set hips with only eight of his fingers, he inelegantly drags you closer so that you were nicely slotted between his knees. Your legs curl up as you regard him with nothing short of intense curiosity, lips parting in a silent ‘o’ that very nearly sends him over the edge. You were too pretty for your own good. Much too beautiful to be wearing a pink onesie and acting like a baby. This was such a waste, and he almost feels bad for what All for One did to you.

But he shrugs it off, forcefully, and his delicately poised hands descend on your zipper. Zrrrrrt, straight down the length of your body. It stops directly above your crotch and he reaches up to reverently push the cotton out to the sides and expose the rest of you.

Your tits were even better than he’d initially thought. They were full and heavy, dotted with the most perfect little buds for nipples. Soft and smooth. Tomura’s mouth waters in anticipation and he doesn’t realize how roughly he’s jerking your arms out of the sleeves until you wail dramatically that it hurts.

He’d like to tell you what really hurts is his cock, unbearably hard and trapped inside his pants, but he refrains. Instead, he huffs out an insincere apology and keeps on yanking. He can’t get you undressed fast enough, mesmerized by the way your breasts jiggle and bounce every time he pulls on you. There’s something inherently wrong about this, he knows. It’s so damn obvious you’re not right in the head, that you aren’t of sound enough mind to even understand what he’s doing to you, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you were so willing and pliant under his shaking hands.

Finally managing to wrest the blasted onesie off your kicking feet, Tomura tosses it off to the side and he eagerly sets his sights on your naked body. You should have looked seductive and coy, spread out in front of him with a devious smile curling artfully painted lips as you invite him to have his way with you. Instead, you fitfully squirm, neither seductive nor shy. It’s clear that you have no sense of shame, your artificially infantile brain completely void of the concept and even less aware of how inappropriate any of this was. You just keep looking at him, waiting for the explanation he’d promised to give you.

Oh. That’s right. The game he kept talking about. Perhaps he could still salvage this after all.

“The rules are simple,” he says slowly, scrambling to put together a decent excuse to keep going. “I’ll touch you for a little bit and if I can make you feel good then I win. After that, it’ll be your turn. If you make me feel good, you’ll win. Understand?”

Your expression pinches in confusion. “So we both win?”

“Only if we make each other feel good. What’s wrong? You don’t want to play with me anymore?”

Much to his relief, you quickly bob your head. “I do! Please play with me, Tomu-nii!”

The way his cock jolts at that makes his entire body ache. It’s much too late to turn back now, he was well past the point of salvation, and he haltingly drags his attention down to your chest. Your petite nipples had stiffened in the cool air but it’s as if you don’t even notice. Wasn’t that something a grown woman would be conscious of? He thinks so, or at least he’s pretty sure it is. Apparently it isn’t the sort of thing a dumb baby brain even registers, though, and he reaches out to curiously flick at one.

You gasp, eyes widening slightly. Misplaced hope sears his veins and he watches you intently, holding his breath, but you don’t seem to understand what it is you’re feeling. Your brows furrow as you glance down at yourself and bring a hand up to cover your nipple.

“Oww …”

That certainly wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Or at least it wasn’t the sort of reaction Pornhub had taught him to expect, but it was still something.

“Baby.” He grumbles, reaching for the opposite tit.

“Mm’not!”

“Are too. Didn’t that feel good?”

“No!”

“Then you’re winning, aren’t you?”

Confusion marches across your face for a moment before understanding dawns. You look quite pleased now as you track the movement of his hand as he carefully pinches your puckered nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it between the pads. He doesn’t get an immediate reaction out of you but the longer he does it the more your lips start to purse. It’s as if you were holding back, determined not to show him that you might be enjoying it and risk losing the game, but it’s enough to embolden him.

His ministrations pick up and he gives your delicate little teat a mild twist. There’s no malice or cruelty behind the action. He just wants to see what you’ll do. And you don’t disappoint, the way you jump and your mouth flies open as if to squawk making his stomach clench with something perverse. You catch yourself at the last second though, teeth clacking together as your gaze flits up at him to see if he’s looking.

He is, of course, and you forcibly swallow the sound you’d almost let out. Tomura is a bit disappointed, sure. He’d wanted to hear how pretty you’d moan for him but there were still plenty of other chances for him to coerce at least one out of you.

Hunching over your prone body, he brings his other hand up to latch onto the opposite nipple, the one he’d previously flicked. You wince at the contact but make no move to stop him, biting down on your lower lip to keep quiet as you watch him play with your fat tits in petulant silence. It was ass backwards in so many ways. He’d thought, despite everything, his first time with a girl would be somewhat normal. Maybe not picture perfect or all that good when everything was said and done, but at least relatively mundane. This was the farthest thing from that though. He couldn’t conceive of a more wildly abnormal scenario even if he’d tried, nor did he recall ever seeing any porn with this hyper specific set up. But there was still some sick, twisted part of him that was deriving pleasure from this decidedly unorthodox encounter with the opposite sex, and that feeling only grows exponentially the more he keeps going.

Kneading, pinching, squeezing, tugging. He doesn’t let up until your nipples are flushed dark and straining hard, the glistening hint of tears at the corners of your eyes telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was getting somewhere. The urge to call you a crybaby swells in his chest again but he doesn’t want to risk another tantrum. He wasn’t so sure his cock could handle it, particularly not when he’d positioned himself over you in such a way that one solid kick would put him out of commission for the foreseeable future. No, this was a delicate situation that required the utmost care on his part and, gathering his nerves, he swoops down to cover one of the stiff buds with his mouth.

The heated gasp that bursts out of you in a great woosh has him groaning into the meaty swell of your tit. You shudder underneath him, involuntarily twitching as he traces your areola with the tip of his tongue and laves it in warm, wet attention. He can tell that you’re not sure what to do so he waits with bated breath, reveling in the fleshy nub pinched between his lips. There was no reason for him not to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment he could get out of this while he could, after all - but then your hands find his hair, threading into wavy locks, and he throbs for you.

“Tomu-nii …”

He practically sinks into you, damn near suffocating himself in the plushy swell of your breast. His mouth opens wide and sucks more of you past his lips, suckling enthusiastically just like the infant you were programmed to be. This particular role reversal doesn’t even seem to register in your mind though and he seethes when you tug at his hair, trying to pull him off.

“St-aaahp …. I don’t like it!”

Tomura comes up off you with a wet gasp. “Bullshit.” He practically growls, narrowing his eyes at your dopey, flustered expression.

“It’s true! I don’t!”

“Oh? Should we check then?”

Your face scrunches and you draw a breath to question him, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Going back up on his knees, he plants one hand against the meat of your inner thigh and shoves it wide. His other darts between your legs before you can react, spindly digits finding your bare cunt and prodding at your folds with rough fingertips. You jolt at the contact but it’s too late. He barely has to touch you to feel the slick oozing out of you and he lets loose a harsh bark of laughter.

“My ass. You’re fucking soaked. You shouldn’t lie, you know.”

“I didn’t!” You gasp, clearly offended by the insinuation. “You’re just a fucking meanie!”

That gives him pause.

Glancing up at your face, Tomura regards you carefully as he tries to figure out his next move. On one hand it was his own fault for saying that word around you so much and it’s not like it was any of his business what you did or didn’t say, but on the other … there was something uncomfortable about hearing that come out of your mouth with such a childish inflection. It lacked any and all bite, not even a hint of impotent aggression to be found. You were just parroting him, that’s all, but for whatever reason he didn’t really appreciate it.

“Don’t say that.” He huffs, turning his attention back to your pussy.

Tomura had wanted to leave it at that, but of course you have to fight him every step of the way.

“Why not?” You ask rather flippantly.

“Because i said so. If you want to get smart, be my guest. I know how to handle bratty little girls like you.”

He’s a bit surprised when that actually shuts you up. Apparently, he was starting to get the hang of this but he still has to sneak a quick peek at you just to make sure. The fact you actually look contemplative, as if you were turning that over in your empty head, almost makes him laugh.

“Do you still want to play?” God, he sorely hoped you did.

You hesitate though, unwilling to give your acquiescence just like that. “When is it my turn?” You ask warily.

“Soon. I’ve got one more chance to make you feel good and then you can try.”

“Mmm … okay. But I’m not gonna’ lose!”

He’s almost certain you would have already lost if you weren’t such a petulant little thing, but he keeps that to himself. Instead, he once again turns his attention to the spot between your legs. Your puffy slit was noticeably wet, the faint sheen of fluid glistening slightly in the overhead light, and he takes a moment to gently part the curls there. Just as he’d thought. Damp to the touch and only getting wetter. He really was going to have to talk to you about lying especially since, in this particular context, you were cheating. This was a far cry from his video games but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Swallowing his reprimand for the time being, though, Tomura carefully presses two fingers into the doughy softness of your labia and spreads them apart. He can see now that you were practically drenched in slick arousal, thin threads of discharge stretching across your petal soft folds before snapping. He gulps down his nerves. You really did have the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen and the fact it was all his for the taking very nearly had him creaming in his pants right then and there. It was almost obscene how bad he wanted to fuck your tampered brains out but he didn’t want to scare you into noncompliance. He wasn’t going to fight for this if he didn’t have to.

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings his other hand close and prods at where he thinks your clit should be. He’d certainly seen them in enough triple X videos to have some idea of where to look, but when all you do is let out a soft sigh he knows he’s mistaken.

His teeth gnash in high strung irritation as he walks his finger lower and then higher, feeling a bit like a blind fool searching for buried treasure. There were so many fleshy ridges and folds that he couldn’t pinpoint the right spot from memory alone, so he has to take his time feeling around instead. He thinks he’s found it for a split second when you shift underneath him, but then he realizes you were simply getting fussy - no doubt bored with all his incessant pawing - and that only angers him further. It shouldn’t have been this damn hard to find!

Impatient now, Tomura roughly swipes his finger up the length of your slit and surprise washes over him when you jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. Your head comes up off the rug and you stare at him, wide eyed, but it was much too late. He’d finally gotten the reaction out of you that he’d been hoping for, and he leans into it with nothing short of devilish delight.

Knowing precisely where to look helps a great deal and it immediately occurs to him that the reason he’d struggled so much is because your clit was still hidden behind its protective hood. But he’s got the advantage now, and he ever so carefully pinches at satiny soft skin until he can ease it back and expose the sensitive little bud nestled inside. You whimper slightly as he does it, squirming awkwardly on your back as if you could instinctively sense that you might be in a bit of trouble now. It was kind of cute, if he was being totally honest.

“I don’t think I like this game …”

“You will. Trust me.”

Clearly not believing him, you start to open your mouth to complain but he stops you cold with a quick flick of his finger. Your engorged clit jostles against the indelicate contact and you blurt out such a startled sound that he actually glances up to make sure you’re okay. Unsurprisingly, you look a little more flustered now and the panic edging your expression is almost enough to make him reconsider this.

Almost, but not quite.

“What’s the matter?” He goads, dropping his gaze back down to your pussy again. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I … I don’t …”

“Really? I’m not sure I believe that.”

He does it again, gentler this time. Just a brief tap against the meaty little nub, but it’s enough to make you twitch and try to close your legs from him. Tomura won’t let you back out so easily though and he shifts even closer so he can wedge himself between your thighs to keep them spread. You issue a frustrated, huffy sound that he could only describe as babyish as you try to push up on your elbows, no doubt intending to scuttle away from him. He had to give you credit for being so hard headed even in this infantile state but he was far too invested to quit now.

Letting up his hold on your labia, Tomura directs his fingers lower and wedges three of them into your slit. You freeze, momentarily stunned, and he takes that split second opportunity to feel around for your entrance. It’s not hard to find. Much easier than your clit, at any rate, and he wastes no time wriggling a long digit up inside your body. The penetration is smooth, your guts such a slippery mess that it almost startles him.

You really were a liar.

He suddenly realizes he’s panting. At the same time, he realizes that you don’t appear to be breathing at all. Your expression is about as dumbfounded as it could be, and he dully watches the way you sway in your half upright position. Shellshocked would probably be an appropriate descriptor, and he wets his lips in anticipation.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Your legs flex around his arms and you shake your head. “Nuh … no …”

“If you don’t stop lying to me,” he grumbles. “I’m going to get mad.”

You stiffen, clearly drawing yourself up to challenge that statement just like he’d known you would. It was embarrassing how predictable you could be.

He’s had just about enough of this back and forth though, and he roughly curls his finger upward in search of the spot that would finally shut you up for good. But his efforts only make you more fussy and his patience quickly unravels when you try to twist away from him, wailing in displeasure. He hated that sound and, if you weren’t careful, he’d go right back to hating you too

Grunting, Tomura abandons your clit in favor of latching his hand onto the swell of your thigh and he digs his blunt nails in to keep you still. You actually have the audacity to kick out at him but he puts a stop to that quickly enough by shoving a second finger into your sticky cunt. Just like the first time, it makes you hesitate and he watches your warbling mouth drop open in what he thinks might be pleasure. It’s frustratingly hard to tell with you but, having no other choice, he decides to take it at face value.

Your pussy clicks loudly when he starts pumping into you straight down to the knuckle, the wet squelch almost deafening in his ears. It’s unreasonably hot though, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to commit every little detail to memory. The way your face screws up with a stuttering gasp, the way you squeeze your eyes shut and try to brace against the pressure of his digits driving into you again and again. The way you moan, even when you try not to, is particularly enticing, especially since it’s just as pretty as he’d hoped it would be. The way your legs shake and you threaten to double over, the way he can see you clutching the carpet in a death grip, the way you just seem to get even wetter for him. There was too much to take in all at once but it was also far too erotic to look away from. He really was going to cream his pants at this rate.

Somehow, your honest reaction appears to make up for all the trouble you’d given him up until now and Tomura can feel the wet spot bleeding through his boxer briefs start to grow. He was positive he’d never been harder in all his life. Animalistic and practically slobbering like a rabid dog, he hunches further over your quaking body and pistons into your cunt so vigorously his arm starts to ache. You were wailing for him to stop, crying out for Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, but he doesn’t even slow down. He can’t.

Your cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper on every plunge, gummy walls pulsating around his no doubt pruning fingers so enthusiastically that he’s sure you’re going to cum. He can practically taste it. Tomura wasn't going to stop until you did and, realizing he doesn’t have to hold onto you any longer, he reaches out to roughly shove you down on your back again.

“Are you going to cream for me, princess? Huh?” He grits out through savagely bared teeth. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No! Please, Tomu-nii … it hurts!”

Even in the heat of the moment he can’t stop himself from clicking his tongue in irritation. “No it doesn’t, you big baby. You love this. I know you do. I can see it written all over your stupid, pretty face. Go on. Tell me exactly how good you feel. Do it!”

Wailing, you peer up at him through heavy lashes with a look so imploring it very nearly gives him pause. “I - I can’t! I’m … Tomu-nii, I’m gonna’ … I’m gonna’ pee!”

“No you aren’t. That just means your clo - -“

Tomura cuts himself off when you do exactly that. He’s almost too stunned to react and all he can do is watch as the steady stream of urine bursts out of you before dribbling down his wrist to soak into the carpet underneath. It’s only now, when you’re pissing all over yourself as well as him, that he finally has the decency to slow his pumping to a staggered halt. For a fleeting moment he actually considers the notion of keeping at it. There wasn’t much else you could do to ruin this for him, after all, but one look at your expression immediately quashes that idea.

He’d be lucky if all he could manage was to stop you from dissolving into ugly, heaving sobs, let alone worry about getting himself off. Dammit. You really were nothing but a pain in his ass.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He deadpans, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt now that he was thoroughly coated in warm, smelly piss. “To be honest I was kind of tired of that rug anyway. And these clothes, too.”

You hiccup so sadly that what little bit of anger had sparked inside him immediately dies out. He couldn’t even be mad at you for this no matter how much he may have wanted to blame you for everything. You’d tried to warn him.

“T- Tomu-nii … mm’sorry …”

Tomura sighs through his nose, hard enough to make the split end tips of his hair shift. “Don't be. That was my fault. Just - let me find something to clean us up with.”

“Do I have to take another bath?” You ask so meekly he almost misses it.

Pausing halfway through the motion of rising to his feet, he glances down at you again. It occurs to him quickly enough that it wasn’t the accident you were so upset about but, rather, the looming possibility of another aggressively meted out trip to the bathroom. Interesting. He’d almost think he was mistaken, it had only happened once, after all, but the way your lower lip wobbles tells him everything he needs to know. Apparently you were more scared of him than you’d let on.

“No, not right now. I think I can get you clean enough with a wet rag or something. You’ll have to take one later but,” Tomura scoffs, hating that he was actually trying to be nice after you’d peed all over him. “I’ll try not to be so rough next time. You just made me mad last night, that’s all.”

You nod slowly, looking like you don’t quite believe that, but still too naively trusting to press the matter. “Okay.”

Nodding once, Tomura climbs to his feet. The inner seam of his pants from the knee down is absolutely soaked and he makes it only three steps before deciding he didn’t like them all that much to begin with. Dropping his hand to the rough denim, he brushes all five fingers across the thigh and they dissolve into nothing without a second thought to the matter. He can faintly hear you ooohing behind him but there were much more important things to worry about than how easily impressed you were.

His half flagged cock throbs hopefully inside his boxer briefs and he reaches down to delicately adjust himself. God, he’d be aching for the next week thanks to your uncontrollable bladder.

An idea pops into his head with that thought. You weren’t the only thing he’d been saddled with yesterday, and he turns to regard the thick gym bag he’d previously thrown against the far wall in anger. It’s where he’d gotten your pink onesie after you’d similarly soiled the first pair of clothes you’d been wearing. He hadn’t bothered to look through all of its contents just yet, but he felt relatively confident he’d find what he wanted in there.

Circling back around, Tomura squats in front of the bag and yanks it open. He can feel your eyes watching him from your spot on the floor but he pays it no mind. Digging inside, he pulls out a few more articles of clothing, far too cutesy for his tastes, and then a book on child care that he knows for certain was put there in jest. Over his shoulder it gets chucked, and he digs deeper. Down at the very bottom he finds exactly what he’d been looking for.

But in addition to the baby wipes there are two other items that catch his attention. He outright balks at the very notion - however, realistically speaking, it could very well be the answer to his problems. At least the most pressing one, anyway.

The idea that All for One knew he’d likely run into this issue but still decided to dump you on him anyway bothers Tomura a great deal and he frowns even as he looks over the packaging. Diapers and pull ups. What was the difference? He’s not so sure there is one, and he feels almost certain that they serve the same purpose. But further inspection proves him wrong. One was for a total lack of control and the other was for the potty training stage, so not as thick or absorbent. That’s what the packing said but, at any rate, they definitely weren't the plain adult brands he was looking at here.

These were bright and colorful, and he can’t help but cringe at the thought of putting you in either of them. But he was still left with a very real concern that he simply couldn’t overlook. The fact he even had to make this decision at all was ridiculous but he couldn’t very well have you pissing on every available surface in his room. And given your track record of absolutely drenching whatever you happened to be sitting on at the time …

Hesitantly, Tomura takes out the diapers and shuffles towards his unkempt bed. The print on the back wasn't particularly clear about what to do with them. He’d probably have to look up a tutorial later, when he wasn’t feeling quite so downtrodden and his balls weren’t aching, though that would certainly put him on a few watch lists. Not that it really mattered.

He sighs and tosses the package on top of his sheets before tearing into the baby wipes. Taking his time, he methodically scrubs his wrist and his legs clean while he contemplates his next move. It wasn’t going to be pretty. It certainly wasn’t going to be sexy. It was still probably the lesser of two evils, though. Far be it that he wanted to go this route but did he really even have any other choice at this point?

“Tomu-nii …”

Your soft whining draws him back to reality and, abruptly realizing you’ve been sitting in your own piss this entire time, he turns to look back at you. For a split second, he seriously considers just killing you right then and there. It would save him a lot of trouble and you wouldn’t even realize what was coming. You were so stupid you’d probably think he was going in for a hug or something asinine like that. He’d be doing you a favor, really, because as far as he was concerned, death was certainly preferable to wearing diapers but … the urge fizzles out almost as quickly as it had appeared. He wasn’t going to let you slip out of his hold until after he’d gotten to bury himself in that tight, pretty little pussy of yours.

Decision made, Tomura makes his way over to the carpet again. You look cold, which doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, and he bends down to grab the meat of your upper arms so he can drag you up to your feet. “Come on. I think I’ve got a solution.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Salution?”

“Close enough.”

Steering you over to the bed, he makes you bend over the mattress so he can take a baby wipe to the backs of your thighs and ass. Luckily, depending on how you looked at it, the urine had run down rather than going every which direction so it was pretty easy to clean up. The way you tremble and shift your weight back and forth makes it a bit more difficult than it needed to be but he manages, somehow.

Tomura straightens after a long moment, finally deeming the back of you good to go. He’s not so sure he can get through this next part when you were fidgeting so much, though, and he briefly considers the clothes in the gym bag. The thought of putting you in another girly, saccharine sweet garment repulses him almost as much as the thought of putting you in a diaper. But he was going to have to pick and choose his battles here and, reaching back, he delicately tugs off his t-shirt.

“Turn around.”

You slowly comply, teeth chattering the whole time.

“Arms up.”

At this, you hesitate. But at his expectantly bland look, you do as you're told and raise your arms up in the air. The lift of your heavy tits almost successfully distracts him and it is with a great deal of self control on his part that he pulls his shirt down over your head, yanking it a little too forcefully into place.

“There.” He practically hisses, watching you clumsily work your arms through the sleeves. “Is that better?”

You think about that for a moment, eyes scanning across the front of his shirt, and he briefly wonders if you’re going to say something derisive about the worn video game logo stretched across your chest. But then you smile, nodding your head a little too enthusiastically.

“Mm! It smells like Tomu-nii!”

He really couldn’t stand you.

“Good. In return, I’ll need you to cooperate with me here. I’ve never done this before, you know?”

You blink at him quizzically. “Done what?”

Tomura rolls his eyes, feeling grumpier by the second. He couldn’t wait to get this over with and have you situated so he could run off to the bathroom for what probably wouldn’t even amount to five minutes of desperate jerking. “Never mind. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

You nod your head again, but he has some very real doubts about that. Even when you were pretending to go along with whatever it was he wanted you still found some way to fuck everything up for him. If this scheme somehow backfired because your brain was so scrambled you couldn’t even follow simple directions, he was not going to be happy.

Mentally bracing himself for the worst possible outcome, he reaches for the diapers. He rips the bag open almost violently and pulls one out, but it feels even more wrong in his hands than he’d thought it would. A strange sense of scandalized affront warms his chest, making him reconsider this choice for the upteenth time. If Tomura was being completely honest, he felt embarrassed for you but a quick glance in your direction proves that you don’t share quite the same sentiment. You really couldn’t have cared less, huh?

Right. Baby brain.

He grumbles under his breath as he non too gently snaps the diaper open with a loud crinkle of plastic and lays it out close to the edge of his bed. Motioning you closer, Tomura awkwardly helps you get seated on the damn thing and then instructs you to lay down. You genuinely don’t seem to have a problem with this as you recline back, just placidly peering up at him with your little fists balled in the hem of his shirt, but now that he’s gotten this far he’s not sure how to proceed.

At a loss, he takes another baby wipe out of the package and inserts himself between your bent legs. “I’m going to clean you some more, okay?” He's not sure why he’s telling you that, especially when all you do is nod your dopey head in understanding. Just buying time. That’s all he was doing.

But it gives him a chance to think and for that he’s grateful. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to figure out what All for One’s intention with all this had been. ‘A splendid birthday present for my favorite pupil’, he’d said, as if there were any others. But what was the reason? Surely you weren’t actually supposed to be a sex slave for him. Not in this sorry state. His battered onahole did a much better job on that front and it wasn’t prone to tantrums or crying, and it certainly didn’t pee on his stuff. It also didn’t require more than a perfunctory cleaning every few months. He couldn’t very well shove you into his nightstand and forget about it until the next time he was in the mood to rut into something.

All that was true, yes, but … his onahole also wasn’t warm to the touch, and it didn’t have soft, curly hair framing its abused slit (he really should buy a new one) nor did it self lubricate. It didn’t squeeze him quite the same way your pussy had squeezed his fingers, and it didn’t even really feel like an actual vagina now that he had something to compare it to. You were soft and squishy, pliable in the way only flesh and blood could be, and although he had no way of knowing if this had been All for One’s plan or not, he was certainly self aware enough to recognize that he’d screwed up somewhere along the line.

Tomura absolutely should have turned you to dust while he still had the chance.

Licking his lips, he drags the wipe through the seam of your cunt much more slowly than he needed to. You don’t even stir on the bed, and he thinks you must be starting to doze after … all of that. He’s not quite ready to leave well enough alone yet though, and he gently presses down on the spot where he now knows your clit is hiding. Still using the moist towelette as a pretense to keep touching you like this, he circles the sensitive little bud with it and genuine surprise washes over him when you let out a soft, pleasant sigh.

He glances up at your face but you aren’t even looking at him, lashes fanned out against the apples of your cheeks. It’s hard to tell if you were actually asleep or just pretending so you could lull him into a false sense of security, yet he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. You were his so he could do whatever he wanted to you, right? Besides. You kind of owed him after pissing all over his hand like that.

Discarding the baby wipe, Tomura bends closer and carefully spreads your labia again. He could see your little hole weakly palpitating, beckoning him to pick back up where he’d left off, but he drags his gaze a bit higher instead. You were so velvety soft and smooth it bordered on insane, so much more inviting than he ever would have thought possible.

He briefly hesitates before throwing caution aside and sealing his lips around your clit, gently mouthing at it. Your plushy thighs twitch around his head as you shift on top of the mattress, letting out another breathy sound that rushes straight to his cock. It almost hurts, the way it so eagerly springs back to life after being denied something as simple as release, but he can’t find it in himself to complain. You were giving him another chance, knowingly or not, and he wasn’t the type to squander such an opportunity.

Tomura takes his time lapping at you over the next few minutes until you’re almost as wet as when he’d started. You taste heavenly even with the artificial flavor of the wipes clinging to your folds and he entertains the notion of eating you out until you cum all over his face. There’s something he wants even more than that, though, and he sighs in relief when he finally straightens up so he can fish his cock out. It was almost painfully sensitive to the touch, and he could feel it throbbing potently in his hand. He knew this probably wasn’t going to last long but he didn’t care.

Guiding himself to your waiting entrance, he slowly pushes in one fraction at a time, damn near blowing his load the second his glans disappears into your body. He holds back though, struggling to maintain his composure as he seethes through gritted teeth. You finally seemed to realize that something was going on and your pretty eyes flutter open, immediately searching out his face.

“Tomu-nii …?”

“Be quiet. I’ve got you.”

You accept that in lieu of an explanation surprisingly fast, at least by his standards, and without another word you sleepily glance down at the juncture where your bodies were connected. A slow inhale makes your chest rise, mouth falling open as if to groan. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” the sound rattles out of Tomura’s chest as he slides in right down to the base, toes flexing against the floor. “I’m not even gonna’ get to enjoy this.”

Brows knitting together, you let out the softest mewling sound he’s ever heard and it makes him dig his carefully poised fingers deeper into the meat of your hips. He can’t even bring himself to move, so overwhelmed by how soft and wet your guts are. It felt like you were massaging his length, involuntarily or not, as your pussy suckles at the tip like he’s almost positive your mouth would.

Softly wheezing, Tomura drops his chin to look at where the two of you were stuck together. His pelvis was so flush against yours that your pudgy cunt was molded to the front of him, squishing under the pressure, and his silvery pubes were tangled with your darker ones. He hadn’t expected such a sight to be so damn erotic and it has him twitching, fighting back the orgasm he’d gone through hell and back for.

He’s almost scared to do it but, slowly, he eases back. The way his cock gradually reappears, glistening obscenely now, very nearly sends him over the edge. He isn’t sure how he hasn’t ruptured yet, his ballsac drawn so tight and throbbing that it leaves him feeling lightheaded, but through sheer force of will alone he manages to sink back into the inviting heat of your body without spraying your insides white. His self control was tentative as best, hanging on by a mere thread, but you felt far too good to waste on a quick nut.

“Goddamn … you’re so tight, baby. So fucking tight.”

You fidget underneath him, fussily tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Mm’ not a baby …”

Your pouty little response is enough to make him bark out a clipped laugh, more breathless than amused. You could insist you weren’t a baby all you wanted but, even putting aside the cruel, infantile reprogramming of your brain, it was hard to think otherwise when you were spread out on top of a diaper. It’s stark white, cottony lining was an almost unsettling backdrop to the perfect view he had of his cock stuttering in and out of your slick cunt. Even when he was barely moving, it crinkled softly underneath you with each rocking motion of his hips and he couldn’t quite forget it was there no matter how hard he tried.

Tomura wasn’t sure what he would ultimately do with you and he knew even less why he was even entertaining this wildly absurd situation to begin with, but there was no denying that you did have some use. The clinging grip of your pussy, for starters, and if he could get that bratty mouth of yours under control he might even some day find your company bearable. He still didn’t particularly like you but it wasn’t so farfetched to think that he might be able to tolerate you, with enough effort.

Hissing through his teeth, he drags one of his hands down to spread your puffy lips apart and get a good look at the way your petal soft folds clutch to his cock. It was a mesmerizing visual in the worst possible way, especially when accompanied by the soft, wet clicking he pulls from your body. He could have watched this for hours on end but, realistically, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he gives his wrist a brief twist to bring the middle finger down on your clit.

You twitch at the contact but Tomura takes a much more gentle approach this time, sedately drawing circles around the swollen bud. He doesn’t get much in the way of a reaction for his trouble so he just keeps at it, rubbing you in tandem with his staggered thrusts. The thought of making you cum around his cock is almost disturbingly enticing, but he isn’t so sure he can accomplish that. Not when so much of his focus was devoted to simply biting back his orgasm - but then, to his throbbing surprise, you draw a faltering breath.

“Tomu-nii … feels good …”

It’s as if the air had been punched right out of him. He isn't so sure he even believes his own ears, the blood suddenly pounding inside of them making it hard to hear much of anything. He groans though, thick and heavy as he slides his other hand up across your stomach to push at the bottom of his shirt. Your grip on the soft cotton momentarily tightens, still fighting him at every turn, but you give in almost immediately and allow him to shove it over the swell of your tits.

They’re moving, jiggling ever so slightly with the push and pull of his narrow hips as they quietly slap against the backs of your thighs. Tomura heaves, practically doubling over you with another throaty moan that rises in pitch at the tail end. His palm descends on one of your breasts, squeezing hard enough that the pliable flesh bulges and spills out between four of his fingers. You just stare up at him the entire time, face pinched and flushed while your glistening eyes dreamily watch him with a far off sort of quality that he’s sure must be - has to be pleasure.

He’d never seen anything sexier in his whole life, and that thought alone is far more terrifying than he could have ever guessed it would be. There was something wrong with you, yes, by All for One’s design. But there was something even more inherently wrong with him for getting off on this so much and without the added bonus of quirk tampering to excuse his behavior. You were so sweet and unfairly innocent despite your seductive figure, the sight of you naked save his bunched up t-shirt driving him absolutely wild. It was like you belonged here, with him, in his bed. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted to kill you but that he couldn’t.

What little bit of self control he’d still been clinging to up until now shatters, and Tomura snaps his hips into your upturned ass: once, twice, three times. The sticky squelching between your bodies increases in volume, echoing inside his skull like a ricocheting bullet as he watches your face screw up at the sudden force. It doesn’t even matter though. He’s long since reached his limit and, with a wounded grunt, he slams into you one final time, lurching over your prone body.

The sound that comes out of his mouth as he shudders and violently paints your pink guts is, frankly, embarrassing. But he’s riding a high too great to care, clinging to you hard enough to make his joints ache and you whimper in discomfort. He can’t stop though. He’s cumming so hard, pulse after pulse, that it feels like his soul actually slips out of his body for a worryingly long beat before returning in fragmented pieces. The same, but also somehow different. Like he’d experienced rebirth in the warm, comforting clutch of your drenched cunt.

He wheezes as if he’d been stabbed in the chest when he finally eases his softening cock out of you some time later.

Tomura was completely spent, both physically and mentally. His wobbly legs could hardly support his weight anymore but, with a strength of mind he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he directs a shaky finger to your clit again. You squirm in response, huffing after that rough treatment, but he soothes you with hushed words and a gentle touch to the delicate little pearl he barely even needs to brush against to have you shaking for him.

“Relax. You feel good, don’t you? Let me hear those pretty sounds again, baby.”

Obstinately, you purse your lips together to deny him even that one simple request. Tomura heaves a tired sigh, wishing you weren’t such a brat, but he doesn’t let up. The gentle circles he rubs into your clit with the pad of his finger slowly brings you around though, grudgingly, and he can’t quite deny the satisfaction that sparks in his throat when your mouth warbles open to let loose the sweetest, tiny moan he’s ever heard.

“Nngh … Tomu-nii …!”

“Don't fight it. I want you to feel good too, yknow.” He pauses, tongue glancing over his dry lips. “Will you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, eyes screwing shut, but the way your body continues to tense up seems to suggest otherwise. He could tell you were practically thrumming with it, burning from the inside out even as his milky white discharge slowly oozes down your slit to pool in the seat of the diaper. It was unexpectedly exciting to watch, disproportionately naughty given how utterly unappealing the crinkly plastic was at first glance, and he picks up the pace of his rubbing.

“I think you’re lying again. You liked how it felt when I was inside you, right? This will be even better, I promise. You’ll love it. I know you will.”

Weakly writhing on top of his bed, you crack your eyes open to peer up at him again. “T - Tomu-nii … I can’t … ahh. Ahh. Ahh! I … I’m … ahh! Tomu-niiiii!”

You suddenly jerk, tossing your head back against the sheets, and he watches in rapt fascination as you quake so hard it nearly catches him off guard. It wasn’t the seductive, rolling tremors he was used to seeing in porn videos but, rather, a full bodied spasm that had you twisting as if to get away. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his hand but he elbows them apart, refusing to let up until he’d milked your orgasm as thoroughly as you’d milked his.

And you looked so pretty, too. Caught up in mind numbing pleasure so intense he couldn’t even begin to fathom what you were feeling. Even his own earth shattering release seemed to pale in comparison to this, and it takes you much longer to start coming down from it than it did him.

Your hair is a mess by the time you’re done, matted in some places and sticking to your damp forehead in others. For a fleeting moment, Tomura can almost see the adult woman you should have been when your face goes slack in ecstasy and your flushed lips were parted to suck in as much oxygen as you could get. He imagines you were probably no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, not with that body and those looks, so the thought that he could make you feel this good was a bit like a pat on the back for him. It was probably just beginners luck, but that didn’t stop him from feeling any less proud of himself.

Slowly, he takes his hands off you and steps back. The spot between your legs was absolutely covered in fluid, your sticky, copious slick mixing with his spunk to make a truly viscous concoction that clung to your damp curls. He thinks that he should probably clean you up again and reaches for the baby wipes, but stops himself short.

The idea that crosses his mind is very likely foul, perhaps even more offensive than anything else he’d done til now, but … a quick glance at your sloppy pussy proves too great a temptation. There was something inherently erotic about making you walk around with his semen dripping out of you, even if it was only going to be absorbed by the diaper, and he shuffles close again with his heart in his throat.

Tomura hasn’t the slightest clue what he’s doing and it takes him a long moment to figure out the tape tabs on the sides. He gets frustrated halfway through the process, struggling to make sure the crinkly plastic was secure enough around your waist, but by some miracle you stay relatively still through all of his fumbling. He isn’t quite sure how he got so lucky but he doesn’t stop to question it, hawkishly focusing all of his attention on the task at hand.

At length, he straightens to admire his work. It’s not perfect by any means but he’s pretty sure the damned thing wasn’t going to fall off as soon as you stood up so there was that. The diaper itself was just as obnoxiously girly as everything else in the gym bag; a soft, lilac purple with a flowery, cartoon bunny design on them. He didn’t mind the rabbits so much, and it was certainly preferable to the onesie, but he still thought you’d look nice in something a bit cooler.

The realization that he was thinking about this in such quaint, fuzzy terms chills Tomura to the bone, and his gaze flicks to your face so he can ask what you think of them. Even if only to distract himself from his own uncomfortably perverse change of heart.

But you were already asleep. He probably should have expected as much, and he could tell you were actually snoozing this time by the shallow, even rise and fall of your chest. A strange sense of embarrassment washes over him and he reaches out to delicately take the hem of his shirt between thumb and finger so he can tug it back down into place. You only snuggle further into the mattress though, getting comfortable, and further cementing the notion that he had, indeed, fucked up.

He’d never be able to get rid of you now.

Grumbling under his breath, Tomura leans over you with one hand braced on the mattress. The other slips between your legs, unable to squeeze shut now with the bulk of the diaper between them, and ever so carefully cups his palm over your crotch. It was cool to the touch, but if he pushed down hard enough he could feel the warmth of your body bleeding through. You let out a quiet huff in response, petulant towards him even in your sleep, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing. It was absurd. It was strange. It was strikingly, unequivocally weird, but he was almost glad he hadn’t disintegrated you or strangled you to death.

This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d wished for a woman he could do with as he pleased and not have to worry about her running away, but … it was close enough, he supposed.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #self insert bullshit #my writing #I'll tag the series later #I don't know if I want this to show at the top of the main tags seems a bit like inviting trouble #I've wanted to write something like this for a very very long time and I just took advantage of Shigaraki's birthday to finally do it #blah #I make him cry bout' the pussy #prolly why my shit so wet #ahh 👅

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troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

Note

(I'm new to the whole ask thing- usually just read-) but; imagine for reader being a witch, douxie and her falling in love-?

You meet at Zoes music shop.

It's a chilly day so you dove inside a store for shelter or maybe just something to do. You're looking through some cheap records for fun with a scarf wrapped tight around your neck and he's never seen you before so he's curious. Not wanting to appear creepy he slowly approaches to see what your looking at.

"Oh do you like Papa Skull?" He questions.

You blink and pause your browsing. He smiles emabrassed looking away and you faintly blush. You nod no and shift so he can see the records your really looking at.

The good old classics hidden behind the discounted newer but last season albums.

"I like more classic records. Older bands." You explain. He notices your into rock and old pop. Behind the Papa Skull there are records like The Beatles, AC/DC, Prince and more vintage rock music. Douxies heart fluttered seeing you liked the same records as him.

You were wearing a satchel bag and looking at it he noticed a yellow submarine pin and some music patches. You also had college books and he wondered if you were a music major? Maybe music theory? That'd be awesome to make a new friend who likes music.

However the conversation seems to have run dry as you hum going back to the records you were looking at.

"Yellow Submarine is a personal favorite." He blurts out wanting to continue the conversation. Turning to look at him his face goes red as you hum at him softly.

"Yeah?" You question curiously. He nods hair bouncing up and down frantically and he blushes embarrassed. You smile seeming happy to talk to him. "I'm new in town. Just transferred to the local college here. I'm guessing your a local yourself. Could you show me around some time?" Holding out your phone Douxies face is a red mess. Smiling he nods putting in his number before you take your phone back waving over your shoulder as you leave.

Flinging your scarf over your neck as you leave he smiles before he begins muttering curses.

He realizes a second too late he forgot to ask for your name and your number so you'll have to text him first.

~~~

A week later and he gives up hop on finding you again. You hadn't texted him yet and he hadn't caught you in Zoes shop since that fateful encounter.

Deciding to cut his loses he heads to a local cafe to drown his woes in coffin and muffins. Walking through the door small bell going off he pauses.

Same bag. Same scarf. And similar clothes.

Getting closer it was indeed you ordering. You were polite tipping the server as you chewed on some black licorice, his favorite candy.

Laughing with the cashier you wave after paying and sit down.

He watches enraptured as you sit with and earbud in casually humming. You munch on your treat as you wait for your order to be called from your corner booth.

Douxie can't help but beam in glee at his luck. Quickly ordering he wonders if he should approach you or if he could maybe magic you into looking in his direction. Would that be too obvious? Clicking his tongue leaning against the baristas serving counter he smiles at you fondly thinking of what to do.

The answer comes when you see him and wave.

"It's Yellow Submarine." Remembering how he said that was his favorite song and how he never gave a name he laughs and comes over hoping the nickname was a good sign.

"The names Douxie love but I have to admit the nickname you picked is unique." Your laptops in front of you and Douxie can't help but peak at what your doing as he sits down next to you. You seemed to be writing some kind of paper.

So you were a college student. Wicked.

"Douxie?" You question saying his name as if tasting it. "I like that. I'm (Y/N)." Sticking out your hand you smile and he smiles back shaking it.

"What are you working on?" He questions.

"Oh just some academia stuff. I'm not really focusing on it just kinda day dreaming." You shrug and he smiles. The cafes lights were a low warm color. The light bounced off you and you looked beautiful. Your hair was practically glowing, your eyes were soft but had a hidden knowledge to them, and your smile. Your smile made Douxies heart flutter.

He chuckled at something you said and chuckled. Your tongue and lips were stained black from the licorice you ate making him happy for some reason.

You were just amazing and he barely knew you. He's about to ask why you hadn't texted when your orders are called.

"I'll get them." He offers and you nod watching him leave." He slides back into the seat next to you and soon you fall into a fun conversation work forgotten as you sip your drinks.

Realizing the time you give him a wave and say something about leaving. He nods and throwing away his cup he curses realizing he now had your name but not your number.

~~~

He doesn't see you again for awhile. Not in Zoes shop. Not at the cafe and sadly no where on campus.

He looks for you, in a respectful way of course but no matter what he does he's never able to run into you or find out what classes your taking.

It's late fall now and the leaves had all changed colors. Red, orange, and yellow blurred past him and crunched underneath him as he walked. The air felt crisp and as he took a deep breath in he could feel the seasons magic.

Walking through the leaves kicking them up Douxie feels defeated and like it's not meant to be.

He pauses crunching stopping. There you were. Sitting under a tree as leaves swirled around you, you were on a bench reading a book and listening to music. He's not sure if he should approach you but pauses when you look up and smile at him. Waving you pat the bench taking out your earbuds and he shyly comes forward.

"Hey Doux long time no see." Your smile brightens as he sits next to you and his heart flutters.

"Yeah I never see you at the cafe or at Zoes. We must have different schedules." He states. You shrug.

"Maybe. Maybe not. My life's pretty hectic." You hum and he nods in understanding.

Curious he glances at your book.

"Whacha reading?" He asks staring at thr cover. You fumble trying to hide it but he sees and is shocked.

"Oh it's nothing just-" You stumble and he smiles.

"I know there was something about you." He hums before smiling excited. He must have been attracted to you because he could sense your magic! "Your a mage." Pausing mouth open in shock you stare at him, and he notices the leaves shifting around you.

Chuckling he smiles holding up his hand. Snapping his fingers blue magic dances around them and you blink before staring in awe. "Don't worry love I'm one too." He says proudly and your face lights up.

Smiling as your own fingers spark with magic he reaches over for your free hand. Pausing you take it and he smiles feeling it fit perfectly against his.

"... (Y/N) would you maybe want to go on a date sometime?" Pecking his cheek Douxie touches his face starstruck as you smile getting up.

"Anytime." You hum before collecting your stuff getting up and walking away. Smiling too happy to complain about forgetting to get your number again he pauses as a ding rings through the air.

'Its a date submarine.' Blushing he holds his phone close.

It was a date.

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myouki · 3 years

Text

Fright Night: Chapter 2

Credits:

Goth and Lotus: @nekophy

Palette and Rurik: @angeutblogo

Chapter Warnings:

Violence, swearing

***

Both Lotus and Rurik stopped to stare at the spirit box; a loud thump and a squeak in front of them drew a startled gasp from the smaller; raising their flashlights, one of the previously closed doors now stood slightly ajar.

"I heard a thump; is everything alright up there?" Goth's voice came over the walkie talkie.

"Yeah... there was a noise in the room left of the stairs and the spirit box went off... it said 'leave'," Lotus replied, flicking on the lamp as Rurik casually approached the door. The smaller warned, "Be careful, the ghost might be in there."

"All the more reason we should look," Rurik reasoned, pushing the door open further. "It's colder...," he mumbled to himself, pressing the button on the spirit box, "Where are you?" The device only repeated the word 'leave', much to his annoyance.

"We'll finish what we're doing down here and make our way up," Goth announced.

"Got it," Lotus replied, releasing the button to let it fall silent. Entering the room slowly, he panned the reader around the chilly room; the device released a high-pitch tone as it passed over a table, "Rurik, over here."

"Hmm?" Rurik walked over to join the smaller in observing a small potted plant lying sideways on the floor, seeing two bright green lights on the device as it droned on, "Was this what made that noise earlier?"

"It looks like it," Lotus offered with an air of uncertainty, scooping up the loose dirt and gently repotting the plant.

"What a crock of shit," Rurik scoffed, standing to leave the room, "this bitch is just screwing with us." Lotus rocked back on his heels, placing the plant back on the table and following the taller as they spoke in a condescending tone, "Hey Helen, why don't you show yourself already?"

"Ru-"

"Death," the spirit box said as the hallway lamp went out and their flashlights flickered; one light disappeared as the door slammed shut, separating the pair from each other.

The knob rattled as Lotus nervously yelled from the other side, "Rurik, it's not opening!" Rurik put his hand on the knob and tried to push inward, grunting when the door refused to budge; it was as if it were suddenly made out of stone rather than flimsy wood.

The EMF reader then screamed to life on the other side of the door; seconds later Lotus was banging wildly on the door, shrieking, "It's here! Holy shit it's materializing let me out please let me out!"

Rurik rammed his shoulder into the door, growling as it held firm while static buzzed over the walkie talkie.

"No.... come on, please...," Lotus whimpered softly from the closed-off room.

"Lotus! Use the damn cross!" the taller yelled, suddenly glad the smaller decided to bring it as he threw himself into the unyielding door again.

"It's caught on my pocket!" Lotus shouted back.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs toward them as Goth yelled, "What happened?" Glancing between Rurik and the door, he seemed to put the pieces together quickly, "Lotus, have you used the crucifix?"

"I'm trying," Lotus wailed, "but it's stuck on my- NOOOOO!"

"Lotus?!" Rurik screamed into the resounding silence, slamming into the door and tumbling to the floor when it easily caved from the force; heavy breathing and the continuous whine of the EMF reader met him.

"Lotus, are you okay?" Palette called from behind Rurik; he turned to find Lotus huddled on the floor next to the doorway, gulping down air with their sockets clenched shut as they lightly held their neck; deep reddish-purple bruising peeked past their fingers and scarf while the crucifix laid broken into three pieces at their feet.

Rising to his feet, the monster moved closer as Palette touched Lotus' shoulder; the smaller skeleton pulled away with a gasp before relaxing as Rurik kneeled on their opposite side and reached out to grab their skull, directing their sockets on him, "Are you hurt?"

Lotus let out a shuddering breath, shaking their skull and hastily stammering, "N... no... t... the reader hit le... level five... then she... c... came at me... and t... tried t... to grab my... my neck and... I s... stopped her, but... she bro... broke the c... crucifix..."

Wrapping his arms around the smaller's rattling frame and pulling them into a hug, Rurik sighed, "You're gonna be fine." The smaller relaxed into his hold, pressing their face silently into his jacket.

"Oh stars...," Palette murmured grimly. The camera flashed as everyone followed the beam of light to the opposite side of the room; a dark shadow stood tall at the foot of the bed with a dark mist swirling around it like a vortex.

"We need to leave, now!" Goth urged, grabbing Palette's jacket sleeve to drag him out of the doorway.

Rurik hauled Lotus to their feet when the terrified monster couldn't seem to do more than stare in horror at the ghost, pulling them along while yelling, "Why the hell are we running?!"

"Because she's stronger than we thought and we have nothing left to protect ourselves with," Goth bolted for the stairs without looking back with Palette close behind, "she was only stunned and was already gearing up for another attack; she'll go into a frenzy as soon as she recovers, so we need to get out before she locks the house down again."

Hitting the bottom landing, everyone made a beeline for the door as the flashlights began flickering again; Rurik reached it first with his longer stride, yanking on the handle and snarling when it didn't move, "Son of a bitch!"

"She started another hunt; we need to avoid her and hide until she calms down," Goth panted, shining his light toward the top of the stairs, "it doesn't look like she made it downstairs yet, we-"

"Uh... Guys?" Everyone looked toward Palette, who was backing away from the console table, "The book has writing in it..." The group drew closer to the journal; messily scrawled across the pages over and over were the words 'CAN'T RUN'.

"This means we're dealing with an Oni, right?" Lotus gasped, hugging himself tighter.

"Looks like it," Goth shakily confirmed, moving toward the hallway as his eye light darted around in frantic thought, "This is bad; Oni prefer big groups, we have to-"

"Goth!"

#Poth #FellPoth #Goth #Palette Roller #Lotus #Fell!Goth #Rurik #Fell!Palette #FN #Short stories #MyWriting #Phasmophobia #TW: Violence #Swearing

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jaketeachesdeath · 4 years

Text

Hi, my name's Jake, I'm a little different as you can see. My owner did the best they could to help me even if it meant I got some metal work, I think it looks cool, it sets me apart from the others. I certainly wont get lost in the flock!

Anyway, I didn't have a great start in life. Best guess is that I got trapped in a pop green house and noone was around to set me free. Panicked and alone I got stuck at the bottom tryna squeeze out and that's where I remained until Al found me.

Al then set about tryna fix me, I spent a short while in the freezer, it was on the chilly side but it stopped any unwanted hitchhikers escaping.

After that I had a bath and a sort, a few bits of flesh were removed and I was left to dry whilst Al tried to figure out what to do with my missing parts. In the end Al chose this great green wire from a sho called Tiger.

So now Im clean and dry, Im ordered and my contruction can begin, Al used loctite prescion super glue (they're very impatient) so we got stuck together alot, I suppose you could say we have a strong bond! It took a few nights and some research as Al had never done an articulation that was in so many parts before, that's cheating you know Al.

Im complete but incomplete at this stage. Al very kindly went back to the site I was found and found a few missing parts! So I was taken apart again a little and parts added, although I think we both miss some of the green. Apparently altas bones (the bone at the base of my skull that connects to the vertebrae) are really tricky to reattach, safe to say my head was dropped alot.

But now look at me! A handsome chappie who's cutely incomplete. And now I'm running a blog, through my experiences I'll be talking about bodies and bones. We'll learn about laws and techniques and hopefully have fun!

#vulture culture uk #vulture culture #articulation #s.parrow #passer domesticus #bones #skull #skull collecting #skulls #taxidermy #oddities #curiousities #bone processing

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stressedspidergirlsfandomblog · 5 years

Text

Pt17

(Conversations around consent, sexual activity, and descriptions of torture and attempted suicide. I will put a little - before a paragraph with torture/assault and another - when its over. May or may not also include implied consensual activity. We'll see where this goes.)

Curtis wakes up to soft little regular whimper-moans from behind him. Unsure if his lover is dreaming of torture, or if it's a happy kind of dream, he shifts back a bit, pressing into Takashi to check. Smiling a little in relief it's definitely not torture. Sighing a little, he's awake now. And hungry. They didn't eat dinner last night. They'd gone to bed. Worth the missed meal in Curtis' opinion. However, he's ravenous.

Digging through the cupboards he finds oatmeal, spices, and dried fruit. Surprised to find so many seasonings in the cabinets of a man who rarely cooks, Curtis wonders if it's a holdover from living with Adam. Especially considering Takashi doesn't even buy himself proper self grooming products. Probably just habit to keep the spices around.

The fridge has a few flavors of almond milk. Some non dairy creamers, and not much else in it. Overall the food choices are somewhat depressing. There's more in the freezer, thankfully. Frozen meat, vegetables, and fruit. Shaking his head a little, he sighs.

But another look through the pantry shows plenty of rice, beans, potatoes...cereal. He's feeding himself.

Finding a flat pan, he starts some of the last of the bacon. Whisks some eggs in a bowl. And adds vanilla almond milk to the oatmeal with cinnamon, nutmeg, and fruit. It can sit until Takashi wakes up.

Curtis likes the simple ritual of preparing food. He doesn't mind doing this. Although once they live together he figures if he cooks, Takashi can do the shopping. He usually already does the cleaning up.

Some time later he hears a weird noise somewhere between "blech" and "ugh" accompanied by soft but vehement cursing.

"You okay?" Curtis calls when the swearing doesn't stop but he hears water running. "Did your dream not have a happy ending?" He asks, heading into the bedroom.

"If you can call it that," Shiro snaps back, voice cracking.

Takashi is naked from the waist down and he throws the washcloth into the sink as Curtis comes in. His face is red and his eyes are full of tears.

"What's wrong? You okay?"

"I don't know."

"What happened?" He gently thumbs a tear off Takashi's cheek.

"I don't know. My body never did this. I was, I was finally feeling like I was in my own skin and then this happens!"

"What, as a teen you didn't get wet dreams? God you were lucky." Stroking back Takashi's hair he gently kisses his cheek.

"I didn't even know this was possible," he protests.

"It is," Curtis assures him. "It happens. Not super common, I don't think. But yeah. It's normal."

"Not for me," Shiro protests. "Maybe the clone?"

"You had his memories and he thought he was you, right? Do you remember that happening?"

"No."

"This makes sense to me, love, I'm sorry. It's been years, right? And you have been so stressed, and so anxious, and so sick... You got a little last night... And your body wants more. Is that so awful? Years and years without any.... What'd you dream about anyway?"

Shiro turns red again, scar livid across his face. "You." He swallows. "Us."

"Oh yeah? You wanna tell me what we did that rocked your world so hard it made you come in your sleep?"

Ducking his head down, the tips of his ears are red, too. His silvery hair just makes the blush look even brighter.

"Is it embarrassing?" Curtis asks gently. "Or are you just shy about this stuff?"

"I never really talked about it with anyone. My family was.... Traditional. It was really hard to get used to the idea I liked guys at all. Adam... Had to be patient for a long time. I came out because of him. I admitted to myself... Who I was. I get to be with you because of that," he says softly. "But ... I'm not as... Blase about it as you."

"Am I allowed to ask you about it? Or tease you if it's just us? Will you be okay talking about stuff? 'Cause I'm... I'm not comfortable sleeping with you until we hash out do's and dont's." He meets Takashi's eyes. "I can wait. It's no rush. Nothing like that."

"We can talk about it," Shiro mumbles, leaning into Curtis. "I was dreaming about...us. You were um, your mouth...I think that time we talked about it has been in the back of my head this whole time."

Curtis smiles and kisses his temple. "The real thing will be a lot better," he promises. "Put some pants on, breakfast is almost ready." He slips away to make sure nothing's burning and to heat the oatmeal mix.

Shiro comes out in different sweats, still embarrassed. Still he's done worse in front of Curtis. Such as thrown up on himself in his sleep back on the Atlas. One of the first nights Curtis started checking on him. He hadn't even really woken up, either. Curtis had had to help him clean up. Change the sheets. He'd brought tea to help with his stomach. And never said a word to anyone about it. Not once.

They eat relatively quietly, seated at the counter with their knees touching.

"What time is it anyway?" Curtis mumbles, mostly to himself. Glancing at his watch he blinks. "We woke up early."

"Hm?"

"Its 0600. I usually get up closer to 0700. Guess I have time to lie around." He smiles a little.

"What'd'ya want me to pick up at the store?" Shiro mumbles. Already trying to decide on what kind of grooming products he needs. He knows most of Curtis' favorite snacks already. The man has a sweet tooth.

"Something not frozen or dried...how long am I staying?"

Turning red he shrugs. "We haven't really had a chance to talk and I don't want to do that before work if that's okay."

"Fine by me," Curtis agrees.

Done with his food he hops up, taking the now empty dishes and heading to the sink. He cleans up automatically, glad to have something to do. For all it's a hair harder with just one hand. He has to set the dish down to swab it out. Then he loads them into the dishwasher.

Curtis contentedly watches him move around the kitchen. They've only been together a few months as a couple now. But this feels right. He loves this man. Scars and all. And he knows Takashi feels the same way. After all he's been through, it's nice to let himself again. It's nice to be loved. It's nice to know the person he's letting himself be with is worthy of it. After his partner had died, Curtis had had a string of one offs and bad decisions. And he'd treated them and himself like trash.

One of the absolute best things about Takashi is that he makes Curtis feel so loved. So wanted. So incredibly safe and special and like he matters more than anything else in the world. Takashi has this special way of focusing on him that makes him feel like he's the only other person in the world.

"If I go in early I can leave early," Curtis says, and Takashi nods a little. "Gives us more time tonight?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." He smiles a little.

It seems a little forced but they've been through a lot. "Hey how's your back feeling?"

Blinking in surprise, he stretches a little, his hand on the small of his back. "Good."

"Lemme feel," Curtis smiles. When Takashi comes around the counter and leans over to present as much of his back as possible to his partner.

"Hey look, still not purple," Curtis teases, running his fingertips up and down Takashi's back. He laughs when Takashi arches under his touch, just like a cat. "I love you so much," he says affectionately.

"I love you, too. Please don't stop," he adds.

"Well. I will have to eventually. I can't be late." But all the same he scratches up and down his partner's back. He enjoys the way Takashi shifts under his hand. Deciding that both hands might be best in this situation he shifts on the stool to make it easier to give scratches.

Eventually it's time to go. They kiss goodbye and head out together, but part ways outside the building.

Shiro sends Keith a message.

Stuck going to the store. You need anything?

0645

Probably should grab some basics. Meet you at the store?

0647

Sounds good. No plants.

0648

Mom says you should bring 'your mate' a gift. Yes plants. Apparently. Or the skulls of your enemies. But that seems excessive.

0650

That would not match his decor, no.

0650

See you in 10.

0651

Keith finds Shiro in the personal grooming section of the store.

He looks up when he notices the Red Paladin. "Curtis also has a problem with my taste in body wash."

"I see."

"Problem is I have no idea what to pick," Shiro shrugs.

Keith peers over in the basket. It looks like Shiro has managed to pick up fruit, vegetables, and some kind of meat in the time it took him to wait for a train to pass. "Sorry I'm late, by the way."

"Stuck at the tracks?"

"Yeah. Slowest train I've ever seen. Couldn't have been going much over 80."

"Disappointing."

"Seems like you're mostly done."

"Still need snacks. And candy of some kind. Curtis is an addict."

"Where's your protein crap you always used to get?"

"I always hated it. And medical says I'm healthy now... So. I didn't buy any."

Keith looks over at Shiro and notices some things that disturb him. For one, every time he reaches out to maybe pick a bottle, there's some kind of tremor in his hand. Two, he's sweating and the store is chilly. Three, he's a little flushed. Four, his eyes seem glassy. Getting in closer, he lightly squeezes Shiro's shoulder and hides his expression. Shirt is damp. He's been distressed for a while.

"What about pine? You always had some weird thing for forest scented crap."

"No, that was Adam. I was the one who liked spearmint and wintergreen."

"So why did you always smell like-.... ? Ah."

Shiro turns red. "I know Curtis likes cinnamon. But I don't see that here."

"There's stuff that's kinda minty," Keith points out. "You can buy whatever you want." Personally he thinks having to change your scent to please your partner is ridiculous. Probably why he's not much for dating. "See this one?" He cracks the lid to sniff and then hands it over, watching Shiro's hand like a hawk.

The shaking is still there. He's still beading sweat around his hairline and his hair is starting to stick to his face.

"That's kind of the problem," Shiro mutters, sniffing the bottle. It smells nice. Shampoo. Okay. So now just body wash. Maybe something for dry skin? He's been itchy lately and Curtis is probably right. He's probably drying his skin out. He can take care of himself a little better for Curtis. "Is there matching body wash?" He asks, trying to read labels without giving away the entire aisle is swimming. He's so stressed out. Which is how he ended up just grabbing a random bottle and bailing the first time around.

Keith looks at him and back at the shelf quizzically before picking it up from right in front of Shiro and handing it to him. "Says ultra cleansing. Isn't that code for: will dry your skin out?"

"Oh. Maybe I should pick something else."

Unsure of what to make of this, he shrugs. "You could just get the same brand you used to, and pick a different scent."

Shiro shifts uncomfortably. "I can't remember what it was," he admits. "I'm missing a lot here and there," he tugs absently on his bangs. Remembering how his skull had been cracked open.

"It's this stuff in the red bottles. It's got some stupid names, though." He tries to keep his expression neutral. He knew Shiro had issues remembering everything that happened while he was enslaved as a gladiator. He had no idea Shiro had also lost any time before then.

"Whatever's there is fine."

"Maybe Lance would be more helpful," Keith suggests. Then they both look at each other and laugh. "Okay so definitely not. But hey there's only four options, so."

They test out each bottle, Shiro hates the first. Keith the second. The third and fourth take a while to decide between. Shiro just picks up the matching shampoo and dumps it in.

"Do you think I need more clothes?" He asks hesitantly.

Keith kind of stares. "Judging by your apartment? Probably." Watching Shiro looking over at something on the other end of the men's care aisle, he realizes he doesn't want to help shop for the next thing. "What kind of candy? I'll grab that while you finish up here."

Realizing Keith figured it out, he turns red. "Uh. He'll eat pretty much anything that isn't black licorice. But he's kinda partial to anything sour and then chocolate with almonds or peanuts."

"Got it."

"Thanks." Shiro wanders down to the other end of the men's aisle. There's an overwhelming amount of things and he's realizing he's not sure if Curtis has preferences. And his personal comm is off at work. And Shiro isn't going to call him about condom brands on a Garrison line. They're all recorded. While he's not sure if it will be days, weeks, or months until they need any supplies he'd rather have them on hand.

Thinking about what he's used before, he doesn't see any familiar packaging and the aisle blurs in and out of his vision for a minute. There, he grabs a few things. He's not into anything all that interesting, and looking at some of the grocery-store approved toys makes him feel uncomfortable. A few things look like something the Galra would have found a way to weaponize and use and while he's sure before all this he would have been game... Now he isn't. He realizes he doesn't even really want Curtis on top of him, either. Or at least, not inside him.

He can still feel the blood running down the inside of his thighs. Sometimes just dripping steadily down without touching his body at all. They'd ripped him open in a new way. Trying to find some other way to torture and scare him. He has no idea how they guessed that, or if it was half accidental. They hadn't realized that human joints really weren't that flexible when they broke his elbow. Just testing his limits.

Shuddering he's terrified of the scarring ripping open again. Of just anything tearing into him.

Trying to imagine if he could go down on Curtis his throat tightens and he swallows hard against a gag. What if it feels like the feeding tube they'd forced down his throat? He'd been refusing to eat after. Had tried to hide the bleeding. When it stopped he'd been so depressed he'd given up hope and reopened the wound. Tore skin. Hadn't cared. He'd wanted to bleed to death. They'd stapled the wound shut, drugged him with a paralytic that did nothing about the fact he couldn't sleep, shoved a tube down his throat, and chained him spread eagle so he couldn't move so much as an inch and inflict more damage.

Keith finally can't spend more time in candy and goes back to find Shiro. He's worried. He recognizes the stricken look he sees and gently takes Shiro's hand and pulls him away. "You can't get pregnant anyway, you don't need those."

Blinking and coming to, "school really failed you, didn't it?" He asks absently.

"You're cleared of any and all diseases and so's he. Nothing he can give you or vice versa."

"Maybe he doesn't like to swallow," Shiro says conversationally, still shaky. He knows Keith hates when he talks bluntly about this kind of stuff. So it'll stop the conversation in its tracks.

Keith makes a face. "Let's go find you a shirt that isn't black or grey?" He suggests.

"I look good in those colors."

"Yeah Shiro everyone does. What colors does Curtis like?"

Everything, Shiro wants to say. Curtis is full of life and color in spite of everything. "Purple. Galaxy purple like in those hubble telescope photos..." He says softly, thinking of the prints he's seen in Curtis' apartment. "Dark blue..." His bedroom.

"Great. There you go."

"Black and grey used to bring out my eyes..." Shiro teases, fluttering his eyelashes and trying to recover from earlier.

"And match your hair." Keith just shrugs and smiles blandly.

They wander over to the clothing section and browse. Shiro ends up with a simple deep purple henley, a dark navy vneck sweater, and Keith convinces him to try a maroon vneck tee and deep green henley, too. "Add some color old man."

They drop the groceries off, Shiro throws the meat and some seasoning into the crock pot. He can't bake to save his life but he can dump things in a pot and walk away. While he's busy Keith discovers Shiro's battered running shoes. After lecturing the other man about his knees and feet taking unnecessary damage he forces Shiro back out to get new shoes.

Then he drags him to get some nicer towels, a second set of sheets, and some actual jeans, and some nice button ups so Shiro can dress up a little without going full uniform. Shiro only has 2 pairs of black pants and Keith feels odd realizing what they're doing. Maybe he he should have let Curtis do this. But Shiro started on his own. Keith just helped him finish. And made sure he had more than just the absolute bare minimum cheapest crap he could pick in two seconds.

When they get back Keith helps him load all the fabric into the wash so it'll be ready before Curtis gets back. He has a feeling the other man will appreciate all the changes. Looking at the clock he's surprised its only a little after 1400 hours.

He notices Shiro never really stops shaking, and he seems uncomfortable the whole time. Not unwilling just not himself, either. "Do you remember forcing me to pick out clothes?" He asks suddenly.

"Yeah you were a real shithead."

"Thanks for not returning the favor."

"Wouldn't know how to be that obnoxious even if I tried," Shiro smiles.

"So magnanimous."

Shiro shakes his head a little. He flops tiredly onto the couch unsure what to make of all of it.

Keith lets Shiro sleep, fear mounting in his chest cavity. He switches the laundry into the dryer. He's not sure what to do to help Shiro. But at least the man has food. Nice sheets, soft towels. New, clean clothes. The food smells good, and Keith finds himself puttering around looking for things to do, because he's afraid to leave Shiro alone.

Eventually he settles on the couch, putting a hand on Shiro's chest to feel his heartbeat. It seems steady. Normal. Healthy. But the tremors, the sweating, the indecision... It's all so concerning.

Eventually the dryer dings softly. Keith gets up and finds himself remaking the bed, folding clothes and more or less pacing around again. Somewhat amused he's the one taking care of Shiro for a change, he settles back down on the couch when the housekeeping is done, watching him sleep.

He dozes off eventually, and wakes up to the door sliding open.

Curtis smiles as Keith hastily exits, and sniffs the air appreciatively.

Kneeling down by the couch he presses a gentle kiss on Takashi's forehead. "Hey handsome," he smiles gently. "Wake up, love."

Takashi blinks awake, and smiles when he sees Curtis. Curtis gently strokes his cheek and kisses him.

"You hungry?" He asks gently. "Food smells good, what is it?"

"Brisket, and I have veggie salad in the fridge. Just needs dressing."

"Sounds good to me, you ready?"

"Yeah. Keith ran me ragged."

"I can see that. Once we eat do you just wanna go back to bed?"

"No, we should talk."

"Okay," Curtis agrees. Kissing his forehead again he stands up. Watches Takashi shift an arm under himself and sit up, and ease his body off the couch. He seems like he's moving easier. Less stiff.

Takashi quietly gets out plates and silverware, still half asleep. Pulling the salad out he has 2 choices for dressing and lets Curtis pick. Dumping food onto his plate, he settles at the counter and waits for Curtis to do the same.

When he's done serving himself, he unbuttons his uniform, and settles the jacket across the back of his chair. "Thanks for dinner."

"Of course," Takashi smiles back. They bump knees as they eat. He's happy to eat quietly, the hustle and bustle of running errands and dealing with people has him drained. The nap helps but just sitting there with his leg against Curtis' makes him feel better. That and not being required to talk around the food.

Half wondering if they should have talked first, in case he made himself sick, he breathes out a sigh through his nose.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to wear myself out so badly, though. Sorry."

Curtis nudges his leg, "it's fine."

When he finishes he rinses off his dishes and loads them.

"You cooked, I would have cleaned up."

"You do most of the hard work in our relationship, I think," Shiro smiles. "I can handle some dishes."

Curtis frowns a bit, but decides that can be part of their conversation later. He's absolutely not going to let that slide. Their needs just look different. He smiles when Takashi pulls out a sack of candy. And then laughs when he realizes how full it is. "Trying to fatten me up?"

"I just... There'll always be some here for you."

Holding out his hand he takes Takashi's gently as he comes around the counter and tugs him in close, between his legs. Tipping his face up they kiss for a few moments. Soft and gentle. They pull away and smile. Takashi is a little pink and Curtis smiles. Seems like everything works fine now.

#curo #shurtis #curtashi #takashi shirogane #curtis #voltron #my fic #keith kogane #vld keith

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