#I guess it's the real life people they represent that I'm really angry at because yes they're real

[annabelle--cane]

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

[blackaleycatt]

Random Wild Kratts Headcanons: Megan Thee Stallion Songs

Songs that I think the characters would like or songs that represent them because I love Megan.

Y'all better stream Hiss!

Martin: Ungrateful

Everyone knows that Martin is a nice man. Even the villains know it.

Sometimes it seems like he's a little too nice tho. Like the villains definitely take advantage of it.

Martin can be a nice person but when you mess with animals, his friends, or his brother he can become a different person.

I think the lyrics “Y'all actin' really ungrateful, I'm sparin' you hoes” represent this.

I feel like he could be a lot more violent towards the villains but chooses not to.

Basically, he is sparing the villains despite everything they have done to the team and the villains are “ungrateful” because they constantly act the same way.

Chris: Savage

His sassy attitude fits this song well.

It doesn't matter if it's a villain or his own brother. That lil sassy attitude is always gonna be there.

I feel like he would actually call himself a savage after listening to this song.

“Been that bitch, still that bitch”

And he literally is. Not only has Wild Kratts been around a long time, but Chris has been iconic since Kratt’s creatures and Zooboomafu have been around.

Koki: Plan B

This song is about Independence and having a high self-worth.

Koki definitely has all of that.

She's technically a minor character but she leaves a big impact on the team and the show in general.

Also, I feel like a lot of the time she’s the team's “Plan B” meaning when there's a problem that the boys or Aviva can't fix she has to step in.

Usually involving the miniaturizer because they never listen when she tells them to keep up with it.

She’s like the only other person on the team with a fully functioning brain cell.

Jimmy: Hot Girl Summer

This was THE summer song so you know Jimmy was listening to it.

Probably says “It's hot girl summer” every year to Aviva and Koki.

The chill vibe of the song matches his personality.

I can see him lounging in the sun bobbing his head to this song.

I don't really have a deep reason for why this song is for him, it’s just chill.

Aviva: Hiss

Hiss blew up because it was a diss track calling out basically everyone in the music industry.

I feel like this fits her attitude towards Zach specifically.

Like she seems like she wants to say “Fu*k you” to him so badly.

Based on the “Mystery of the Weird Looking Walrus” episode Aviva seems to be a very observant person and knows a lot of tea about people.

Like how does she know what Zach eats every day and how many toes he has on each foot 💀.

And she was able to guess his password easily on the first try.

Basically don’t piss her off or she will air out ALL of your business, like she did with Zach.

Also, I feel like she listens to Megan when she’s angry.

Donita: Megan's Piano

If feel like she's also a Megan stan.

This song is her anthem.

One thing about Donita is she is gonna let you know that she is NOT poor and she works hard for her money.

Like she’s the hardest-working villain besides Gourmand.

Donita is a self-made queen.

Girlboss.

She likes this song because it reminds her that she's better than everyone.

Every time Chris and Martin come around she mentions wanting to give them a makeover and drags them for their fashion choices.

Definitely says “Sorry, hoes hate me 'cause I'm the it girl”.

You can't spell Donita without “it” after all.

Gourmand: B.I.T.C.H

I don't think he would actually call someone a bitch (he's southern-raised, he has some manners) but the vibe of the song fits him.

I think he would like the lyrics “You know you can't control me, baby, you need a real one in ya life.”

Gourmand is kind of like Zach in the sense that he does what he wants whenever he wants.

Hence why you can't control him.

He’s not like Donita who would use animal substitutes in his profession (the fake spider silk) no matter how hard the Kratts try to convince him.

He does what he wants and you can't control him.

He's also very straightforward with his feelings.

If he doesn't like you he’ll let you know.

Zach: God's Favorite

Zach relates to the song based on the title alone.

He truly believes that he is favored and highly regarded.

Him being the “favorite” could be a general feeling or a reference to how he feels about Aviva and her inventions.

He doesn't see himself as equally matched to her or anyone. He sees himself as the ultimate person basically, even above the other villains.

Despite his incompetence, he is still rather skilled in some things and successful.

The lyric “Here's a toast, who you love the most?” is also him talking about himself since we all know who his favorite person is.

I feel like he would listen to this song to boost his confidence.

[tonya-the-chicken]

"He ruined their lives" 😭 literally, I get that Touya is family and all that, and there's complicated feelings amongst the Todofam BUT like it's a bit wild that they all want to talk to him(at least Enji, Fuyumi & Rei do, not sure on Natsuo), I guess it's because technically he's dying so I guess they want to change it this time 🤷‍♀️ like this time they're with him! Also why so "forgiving" or like no anger?! Shouto wanting to know Touya's favourite food, I liked it but surely he should be at least a bit angry(I guess he did critique during their fight but still) and I don't think we're meant to take that as forgiveness but that's definitely not anger or criticism! Like maybe we're to think that maybe some harsh words were shared with him off-screen(like in future visits), because sure have your guilt your grief and all that but you must have some harsh truths you got to say to him?! right?! Like I'm not necessarily against them visiting Touya, because he is dying and the family probably would heal better with closure but it's the lack of critique or anger on their part!

However, I don't think he ruined their lives completely, at least not in the sense in that they won't ever be happy again. We've got Shouto moving forward, and making a name for himself and his future seems pretty bright. Fuyumi lost her job, but she got a new one thanks to a friend etc.

Yeah, Horikoshi simplifies the situation A LOT because he wants to make a feel-good story where two such different and separated brothers talk about their favorite food. I think this is a classic "I want the plot to go there, so I don't really care if it makes sense"

Rei was not thought out as a character at all. She acts more or less the way the plot needs her to act and the way a "mother" character would. Tbh mha is not a feminist masterpiece, so I wouldn't expect any deep dives into female psychology. Uraraka vs Bakugou fight was the biggest statement ever for Horikoshi, and it's nothing new. So perhaps he had no idea what to do with someone with such a complex history as Rei's. So, yeah, she wants to talk to Touya because she is his mother and that what a mother would want to do

Fuyumi... In the manga, she appears so well put together, but god, in real life, she would need to go to therapy for 10 years, at least. Like, she represents the type of victim that forgives (in short) vs Natsuo who doesn't and lowkey Horikoshi wants to represent that both are ok, but he makes them almost a caricature? Natsuo is much more well-done but Fuyumi... Even if she forgives he father and wants him to be better and forgives her brother and wants him to die surrounded by family it doesn't mean she must NEVER get angry. Not even once. She looks like such a people-pleaser and "everyone should act nicely" and "shove your feelings deep inside" and I am not buying that shit as being ok. She is not ok but the narrative pushes that she is fine idk man. You had to quit your job because your brother turned out to be a terrorist!!! Please, have a reaction

And in general, it is just so so horrible for the entire family. Here is your dying mass murderer arsonist member of a terrorist group that ruined your hometowm brother who told everyone details of your private life so people will look weird at you for the rest of your life. Now. He is dying and you feel so bad so you will have to go visit him. Out of sympathy 🥺🥺🥺 Don't you feel bad for him? Do you even have a choice not to visit? Will your consciousness allow you that? Bruh this is such a guil trip I don't care I hope that cocroach dies in a week so they wouldn't have to go through humiliationg of going to see someone who actively put their lives in danger or outright wanted to kill just because he is their brother

God!!!!! Dabi told Enji he wanted to bring him Shouto's head. How the hell is this ending supposed to even be bittersweet, it's just nasty. I don't want them talking about soba!!! Fuck that

I guess I wrote that but in general I don't like to think of anything as ruining your life to a point of no return. A person can always recover and find new happiness. But Dabi-Touya very much actively tried to destroy as much of their lives as he could. Mostly, it might have been a collateral of destroying Enji's life, but the lack of thought towards his siblings and mom is terrifying to me

[marsprincess889]

Please, please, read.

Saw something dissapointing and not surprising online.

There was a post on insta about the Barbie movie's oscars snubs. One woman goes on to write about how she didn't like the movie and how she feels forced to love it because it's everywhere and everyone seems to love it. Granted, she did use a rather strong(but still polite) language, but I do agree with her.

A man replies to her, not knowing her gender, something along the lines of "you should just admit you're an insecure male."

The woman replies that he, in fact, is a she.

And believe or not, he then proceeds to reply that "no man would type so much nonsense" and that "only a woman who has spent her life realizing that she's inferior to men would go on and on."..............

I was going to reply to him that he had managed to write way more nonsense with way less words but he's so not worth interacting with. And yet I feel insulted.

First of all, I don't care if any if you love this movie and want to defend it. I just don't like it, and that's not the point.

The point, to me, is that maybe we should stop encouraging the surface-level, superficial feminism, when the very thing that people believe is helping equality does virtually nothing. A lot of you are going to argue that its impact was enough, but was it really?

I, personally, felt alienated by the whole hype. Very happy for those people who loved the movie and found meaning in it, but that was not my experience. I did not in any way feel represented while watching it. I definitely did not feel empowered and I don't think that there's anything wrong with that. People are allowed to have their their own taste, and everyone should be allowed to express their opinion, and if a woman is silenced like that just because her opinion is not popular, then maybe everyone should think twice about the whole situation. The vast majority of the world claims that, or at least acts as if the movie has helped the whole female population.

I've seen so many posts online defending the movie to the point where anyone who dislikes it is attacked.

I'm not an activist, nor do i write stuff like this, nor do I engage in debates about this subject online or in real life, but this felt personal.

Maybe it was because throught witnessing that woman's experience, I felt silenced myself.

Why shouldn't I call out an ignorant, arrogant, mysoginistic scum?

The ones like him are those who keep the inequality going.

And equality IS DEFINITELY NOT ABOUT MAKING WOMEN SIMILAR TO MEN, IT'S ABOUT EMPOWERING FEMININITY AND EACH AND EVERY WOMAN, despite what they're like. It's about giving each and every one of them voice. Men have no business teaching women about feminism.

Yes, I feel angry about it. So what?

But I'm also not going to allow him or anyone like him to diminish my self-worth or spirit.

I feel confident that there are people, no matter their gender(if they even have one) who agree with me. There must be.

The movie might have dabbled in gender equality, but at its core it is business, not activism.

And if some actual "inferior" male like that one uses this movie as a shield for his blatant sexism, then I think it's for the best if people stop forcing others to like the movie and allow everyone to dislike popular things.

And also, I have that post saved. If I get enough people to support me, I might drop his @, then we can all spam and humble him lol, if you guys feel like it's worth to spend your time and energy on that. We will have one less mysoginist, or at least a humbled one.

In all seriousness, replies to this will mean a lot.

That's all for now, I guess.

PS: I won't argue with anyone about this, as I really wish the conversations around this movie in context to sexism would stop.

[zmediaoutlet]

okay first of all. Lovee the takes on each character/ship dynamic. second this one is kind of a given so I completely get it if you don't really have any opinions at all about them but I was wondering what your thoughts are on Sam/Jess. Obviously most people just think about them in the existing dynamic of the show but idk! Personally I find their dynamic to be really interesting in the context of what Jess is representative of to Sam. Especially in that time of his life. So I guess it's more of a question of if Sam/Jess is interesting to you, what makes it so and your thoughts on that.

As a backup question to that, thoughts on Dean/Jess? Dean/Jess/Sam?

eyyyy continuing the wine party into post-workout saturday morning tea party --

sam/jess:

to be honest friend, I'm falling into the "most people" category here because my real opinion about Jess is that she... basically isn't a person. And I love that for her, sincerely. Some characters really are tools in a story to spin in forward, and I am soooooo tired to death of all the carrying on about "fridging" and whatnot. Some characters are characters and some characters are narrative tools and, yes, bad luck to the angry ladies out there, spn is a show built on super classic-traditional bones about men who are getting revenge for the dead wife and what they learn along the way. That's good and fine. I'm into it.

with that aside, and given that she is a tool, I just -- don't... care about her. Like I thought about writing a fic one time as a demonstrative exercise called "Five Personalities Jessica Moore Could Have Had," because she's such a blank-slate (again, correctly!) in her like five minutes of screen time. We can't even count the djinn dream of Jess, because that was a pretty vision dreamed up by Dean to hurt himself worse, lol.

but as you say, her being representative of something to Sam is legit interesting -- he didn't fully engage in the relationship, he was gonna marry her without telling her the truth -- like a gay man desperately hitching himself to a nice wife in some misguided attempt to "fix" it. Like if he just tried hard enough he would be someone other than who he is. Which is the whole Sam-at-Stanford story, really. And it's an important part of his story -- the hero has to go away from home and return to it with a better sense of who he is -- but it makes Jessica entirely figural and metaphorical instead of being, again, a person. Like when Sam says in whatever late season ep that he "still thinks about Jess," I'm left going... really? Because even by late in the first season he's reoriented into the family revenge story, not specifically the for her revenge story. But if we reorient that to "I still think about the life I could have had" -- that, I believe. And she'd be part of that. Whatever her actual personality was. Apparently she made cookies. How... fridged wife of her.

WITH all that said, what I'm most interested in with stories that circle around Jess are stories that completely ruin that relationship, haha, because the whole point of it in the larger frame-story of Supernatural is that it has to end so Sam can get back to his real life. So -- if it's an AU where Sam for some reason stays at Stanford and they do get married, I'm only interested if their marriage kinda sucks and they get divorced by year five. (e.g. maybe, like his mother, he pretended he could be 'normal' but he keeps sneaking out on hunts after all, and Jessica thinks he's cheating, and they end up dead bedroomed, etc etc.) Or, if it's set during Stanford, I'd go for an almost horror-story dramatic irony fic where she's introduced to this tall hot guy by her smiling blond classmate Brady and we can see fate rearing up to grab her by the neck, and she feels almost compelled to stay, and she doesn't know why when Sam keeps obviously not telling her things but she forcibly dismisses it from her mind and goes he'll tell me someday. And then it's November 2nd. :)

Dean/Jess similarly I guess I'd only be interested in from a symbolic sense -- Dean attempting to get closer to Sam any way he can in the period of not-talking. I have no interest in Jess living -- her job is to die -- so it'd have to be still at Stanford, and it'd be a really tight window to make it work in a way that wouldn't screw up everyone because Dean isn't a piece of shit and Jess (being a figural Nice Girl who Dies) can't be a cheater. Maybe in the very early Sam and her have only gone on like one date but they're not an 'item' yet, Dean sees her at the bar after Sam leaves and decides he'll take her for a spin...? Eh, that's too mean. So, I guess not for me. And I never like ot3s so the other one is not for me either. But if you can make it terrible and Jess dies at the end anyway, maybe!

[wttt-dirus-work]

Character ask game - 1, 2, 7, 12, 15, 16, 17, and 22 for New Jersey and for Florida

Hey! Thanks Anon! Thats not a small list lmao

So, starting with New Jersey:

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I like him because, first he's underrated. Dude's always compared to New York (which i do like also) or Penn, and he deserve some love too. Also, he got the Pines, and im a sucker for anything cryptids or supernatural; the Jersey Devil is something i love to read about, and i find it so funny (in a good way) how it's a big thing for Jersey's people. I'm also a sucker for grumpy character who show their love by actions instead of words (my love language is giving gifts/actions so...) I also love the northeast attitude of "Only I can fuck with you." since im kinda like that with my friends (i respect boundaries tho ^^)

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Tourette's. I know Ben stopped giving him it to prevent tics for viewers (which is something i respect) but i always love characters having disabilities and representing them as normal. I also love the sibling-like relationship he has with NY most of the time.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

When y'all are giving him anger issue, or when he's the mom friend while not taking care of himself. I'm the mom friend, and i relate so hard to forcing people to take care of themselves (we're both hypocrites lol)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

The scars and anxiety issues. Dude's more anxious than me, always wanting to make a good impression in formal event.

He bites too. No i won't elaborate.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not)

I mean, I got my own ship of him/QC so that's my favourite i guess? Tho i do like NY/NJ (in the world they aren't sibling) and i do like NJ/RI too.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

I don't realy have a least favourite i think? Like, you can ship whatever you want, i don't really care tho. But i guess i don't see him with any of the midwest states ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

NJ/CA or like any other ship that are not in my favourite list. It's the first coming to mind, but like i don't hate any ship (unless it's abusive, because i hate toxic relationship; i don't like them so i don't read them. If both parties learn from the mistakes and apologise and make some self introspection and get better, well then i don't mind. but plainly abusive? yeah no not my cup of tea)

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it come to this character? Something you don't like?

Well, im a sucker for Tourette's jersey, so i love when people add it to their fic.

I don't like when he's being degrated in a condescending way; you can tease him, like the northeast does with food fight or whatever, but don't be mean to be mean. An please, give him more character than just being "Angry" all the time (i maybe only saw it once, but like i really don't like it. Give your characters some depth, more than just stereotypes)

Now doing Florida:

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

He makes me laugh, and how impredictable he is makes it even better.

What i dislike? I wouldn't be able to manage him, like at all in real life. Dude would terrify me.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

He doesn't know how to read, but he knows how to write? and i love his relationship with Louisiana. Oh, and he always start chaos for the fun of it lmao

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

He's crazy, and owns it. He knows he ain't the smartest but still prefer to fuck with Gov/Cal than rectify it.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

He's the most cryptid looking. He got sharp teeth, gator's eye, and his skin is scaley when you touch him. There's something about him that makes you uncomfortable; your brain know there's something wrong with him.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not)

Flo/Loui, hands down. I also love Flo/Connecticut, or Flo/Cal, but flouie is my to go.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

Flo/Mother nature. I don't really like her so... yeah. personal preference.

17. What's a ship for this character yo don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

Him with anyone else(?) than Loui, cut or cal

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it come to this character? Something you don't like?

He's the main reason for chaos.

I don't like when people don't flesh his character out. He's more than the dumb one; he delightfully smart in his chaotic way.

Thanks for the ask!

[crypticroyals]

Ok. This might sound controversial but I need to get this out there.

Some people (not a lot and definitely not everyone) are saying it's cultural appropriation to use their or native American folklores for things outside of the native's context.

Alright I guess Greek and Norse and Japanese mythology can't ever be used again anymore guys. Remove all the fiction we have ever made. Library of Alexandria style.

Like, yes, I get the concept of not bastardizing a folk myth in the sense of like, "oh here's a w*ndigo, they're a hero!" when the creature is an embodiment of evil and represents all the negative things racist people ever associated with native Americans. Yeah I get that, but that shouldn't mean someone can't take the story and use it in their own in the right context.

That's what native America groups have done in so many different tribes. There is like 5+ different versions of the myth that are all native culture (all are Algonquian in close region iirc but still they have different things) so why can't I keep the main features that all cultures explain, use it in the same context but the lore is changed slightly to fit the story I'm representing it in?

THAT IS WHAT FOLKLORE IS

Don't get me wrong, if someone took a creature/being from folklore and made it something completely different and than tried to use the name of it, that isn't the same myth anymore and should be given a different name, not the one they tried to say was their new depiction. But that still shouldn't mean I can't use a myth. The main reason Im upset about this is because you have a small amount of people saying it's bad and shouldn't be done even if used accurately even tho pretty much every other culture does.

Norse mythology? Look at Marvel with it's Odin, Thor, Hel and Loki. Greek mythology? That existed years ago and a few modern day pagan Greeks use it outside context and allow others to use it because it's ancient stories full of culture heritage. Same with Roman mythology which is basically Greek mythology but changed for a new context and many use that. Hell we have planets named after them!

I'm not saying "take a myth and make it something no longer that myth but claim it is" because that would be super rude as it ruins what the myth ment and stood for. But things change constantly. No two versions of a myth are exactly the same. Who's to say I can't represent it in my own way? I love learning about cultures and all sorts of myths and tales and cuisines and traditions. But if people can represent Zues or a Kirin and no one bats an eye than why do some people get mad when someone uses a native spirit of greed and winter hm? I know some people of native groups prefer to not speak certain terms as they see it as taboo. The W*nd*go for example. But some do. So why can't I represent cultures in a fantasy setting? Sure the myths aren't real life and consist from cultures all over with different contexts, but if we can't use windigos why can we use fairies and elves and gnomes? Is it because those are white myths? If so that seems very rude. But I'm not sure that's what it is because we have Asian myths and Greek myths in which are used. So I suppose it's because how people back than treated Africa and the Americas. That and how some "modern" takes resemble nothing of the cultures' actually things. Like in Africa Voodoo is now some "heebe jeebies murder witchcraft" and in Algonquian cultures the windigos are now for some reason weird deer minotaurs???? Like, why are they deer now? That's a new thing now, give it a new name please.

Anyways, I do not wish for people to believe this is some angry rant about how people should be allowed to steal and bastardize cultures. Because that isn't true. That's also something wrong people really shouldn't do. But what I guess I mean by all this, is that cultures spread and change over times everywhere and so many connect and change and show heritage and history. We should love each other and other's cultures no matter differences. In the end, we're all human. We shouldn't be fighting someone who wants to make a story about some sorcerers and rogues trying to hunt down a monstrous thing of evil that has been torturing a scared town that represents native cultures. We should be fighting the people who try to make a movie about a myth for the thrill factors that completely change the myth till nothing of the old tale remains and dare to call it the same.

I'm pretty sure this won't get a lot of representation besides hate from the few I spoke about but I felt the need to at least get this off my chest and I apologize if this offends anyone no matter how.

Hopefully one day humanity can get along better than it does. 🤞💕🤝

[kendrixtermina]

Another Thing Chibnall can't do right: Audience Surrogates

I'm going to start this last rant with one illustrative question: Why isn't Ryan Sinclair popular?

He is consistently considered the blandest out of a cast of terribly bland, flavorless characters, but why?

Cause let's look at a purely 'theoretical' description of his character: He's a warehouse worker who experienced dicrimination & frustrating shit because of his disability & racism, he has a messy complicated family situation that he's salty about, he likes videogames, experimental music and making youtube videos.

On paper, he sounds like Mr. Relatable Millenial. Why didn't ppl eat his character up? Cause it's not like there isn't an appetite for it, ppl had been clamoring for black main characters, disabled peeps, more working class protags, what have you. There's demand.

Now I generally consider 'Relatable' a a false god & I'm the first to get angry when someone argues all characters need to be 'relatable everymen'. RTD loved that trope a lot & then ppl got mad when Moffat wasn't RTD and loudly proclaimed that no real person would relate to Moffat's characters (I guess I don't exist then...), it always pisses me off when ppl claim their experiences are universal or that they will only care about characters who are similar to them as if experiencing the PoVs of other wasn't the point of storytelling.

So the issue is NOT that I think all characters need to be Relatable Everymen. The issue is that Chibnall tried to write one & failed spectacularly.

I wanna argue that the reason for this is that he doesn't know who the audience is, and that he treats the supposed audience with mockery & condescension.... though really, most of all, he's simply out of touch with it. To make an audience surrogate type character & have it land, you need to correctly understand the audience.

Notice what tone is present when something from pop culture is referenced - for example, when Tzim Sha's victim is listening to affirmations on his headphones, its looking to be mocking ppl who do that.

Ryan shows more emotion about things being deleted from his phone than his life being threatened, landing on an alien planet or finding a desolate future earth. "Haha millenials obsessed with phones!" ...who is that joke FOR? What feelings is it likely to evoke towards Ryan?

'Climate Change Bad' is treated like it would be a totally new idea to Yaz & Ryan, who are supposed to be part of a generation that grew up with climate anxiety all their lives as a reason to be cynical

The Doctor needs to lecture them about who Nicola Tesla is, they're treated as having no clue... even though there's, like, a car brand named for him & loads of tumblr posts.

Likewise, Ryan needs to be lectured by everyone about who Rosa Parks was

etc. etc.

The same refrain all over again: Young people are dumb, young people are silly, we wrote these characters as dumb & silly because that's what we think YOU GUYS are like.

Does anybody LIKE being called dumb & silly? Are people likely to like the character used to represent their dumbness & sillyness?

I get the need to maybe exposition things for young viewers, but that can probably be contrived in some way without making the characters you're supposed to like seem dumb. With the Nikola Tesla thing, for example, how about having Graham have no idea who he is? I don't mean make him ignorant, but genuinely interested to learn.

By contrast, let's look at some other 'relatable youngster' characters & how they're treated:

Rose Tyler very much evokes a typical mid 2000s mainstream pop culture, with her bleach blonde hair & bleached flared jeans etc. You can easily imagine that she probably dyed her hair to copy Britney spears, Kylie Minogue or Christina Aguilera, like a lot of girls back then. She effectively winds up in one of the fantasy romance stories that were popular back then. She gets what's kind of a wish fulfillment story of finding out she has the potential to be badass & make a difference after being treated as a fuckup.

Courtney Woods is a rebellious teen considered difficult by her parents/teachers & labelled a 'disruptive influence'. When she introduces herself as such, the Doctor instantly likes her & respects her rebel cred. She is treated as having great intuition & being unintimidated by effective authority figures such as Clara... and that's cool & an opportunity for Clara to learn. Likewise, when he off-handedly says something that hurts her feelings, it is not played as an an 'oversensitive teen' joke but rather Clara makes the Doctor apologize & make it up to her. We are also told that despite struggling with a rigid environment at school, she becomes succesful later in life because of that same strong personality.

Rose Noble is sort of the typical image of gen Y, complete with colorful hair & pronouns. She is really into arts & crafts, makes those 'creepy cute' plushies that she sells online, but in her IRL surroundings she experiences bullying. You can easily imagine her having an AO3 or a crafts-themed tiktok. She is in one of those 'found family wholesome hurt/comfort' stories that are popular nowadays & has the protective mom many teens wish they had.

To summarize:

Their experiences are validated & affirmed, not mocked

pop culture references are used to characterize them & connect them to the audience

From the framing it's clear that we're supposed to like these characters and that they're awesome. That doesn't mean that they don't have flaws or insecurities (indeed those are a big part of what make them relatable) but they're the kind of insecurities someone in their life situation would have. (Rose T. is a tad jealous cause she worries about her love interest finding someone more impressive, Courtney doesn't show insecurity but responds by acting out, but has a thing about being unimportant/not special, Rose N. feels alienated from her peers & out of place)

the stories they get cater to wish fullfillment, which is possible due to knowledge of what these groups of people like

It would have taken a half hour google search for Chibnall to find out what the wishes & dreams of someone like Ryan would look like. IDK, find some blog posts by warehouse workers, ppl with dyspraxia, millenials etc.

One thing that's been pointed out for example is that we never really see WHY Ryan wants to learn to ride a bike. If it's just to please his parental figures, wouldn't a better arc be that they realize he doesn't need to be able to do that just to prove he can and appear "normal", rather than 'look he concentrated & climbed a ladder after all!' Like many actual disabled ppl say they're annoyed about 'shaking off the disability' type stories.

Or, he could relate to getting the chance to adventure as an escape from his lowkey dystopian frustrating life where he deals with many unfair things, or latch onto the Doctor as a mentor after losing his parental figures, or maybe worry that someone who struggles with some physical activities isn't a fit for adventuring but then realize that he can contribute in other ways like asking good questions & thinking. (especially when Yaz is a better fit for the action scenes as someone who presumably had police training)

You could have an interesting unique team dynamic this way:

Yaz could be the competent, badass one, but believing in order & authority tends to just follow/ hero worship the doctor eventually leading into the bit where she develops a crush on her, Graham is the caution/common sense similar to Rory or Donna, maybe looking to protect the younger protags but also gradually having his horizons broadened, and Ryan could get to be the heart & emotional core of the group & the one who questions the Doctor more due to being more jaded from his shitty life while also wanting to escape from it...

Like. If you gave the same list of character traits to a more competent writer, you could've ended up with such complex, dynamic & interesting characters that ppl would have been all over.

[askastarion]

Tav's eyes widened upon hearing the simple plan confession. She quickly covered her mouth in shock, up until the part he admits he wanted them to be real.

"... I have no idea how to put this delicately... I mean, I can't be entirely angry at you for, well, basically sleeping with me so I wouldn't turn against you... but... i... also had a nice simple plan. I mean, all my life I've had to worry about myself, defend myself, I've been hurt many times. Letting you seduce me was how I knew I could get protection too. I mean, come on, with a vampire spawn on my side, I'm well protected. I.. I don't know what I want from here. I feel it too, wanting something more, I think, it's just- ah.. That's just it, isn't it? Neither one of us really knows what to do. What is real, Astarion? What do you want from this, for us? Especially now knowing I technically had a similar plan to yours. Yours might be more well constructed than mines, really. Well thought out. Mine was lazily crafted, I didn't expect much. Just let you have what you want, I guess. I let you do all the work, let you pull your strings, let you win at seducing me... because that's what I used to do back before all this mess... and tried my best to not fall for you. Not your charm, not your pretty face, I'm used to charm and pretty faces. But... I wasn't used to you. Just you. I did my best to not fall.. Well, well, look where that got the both of us."

"... Two hurt people, using eachother to muddle through together," Astarion sighed, feeling his unbeating heart wrench. "I-... I should have known. I always knew that people weren't just simply good and nice at first beat. It's just unrealistic. Every time I saw you be good to someone on the road just out of the goodness of your heart I-... I knew there had to be something. Something I couldn't touch, or ever represent. If anything this-... This brings me some more peace."

It was bittersweet. Two people who had been hurt so much by the world, using each other to help fill their own needs. That was what he knew the world was like. Just people using other people. But to let someone in... Someone who seemed to feel the same way. Was that what love was? To do so with simple consent? Perhaps that was all there was. Or perhaps that was all he was ready for.

"I don't know what's real," he gasped. "After everything, I don't know if I ever will. Just... I think that if you stayed here by my side, that would be perfect. We don't-... We don't need to put a name to it. Just stay with me?"

[anxiouspotatorants]

Omg the Colin thing in season 6 is the most irresponsible thing his and Logan's friend group did, and they actually jumped off of a cliff with no proper support or safety precautions! Maybe it's because I'm from another country so I know how disorienting a new place can be even with knowing the language in it but the fact that a) NONE of the guys in the group were like "uh guys maybe we need to leave the girl be in her own country", b) none of them thought of what they would possibly do with her once she was in a foreign country to her that's the size of half a continent, and c) they were all annoyed and inconsiderate of her when it was clear that she didn't speak the language and didn't even know how to navigate in such a big place, just tells me everything I need to know for how they really behave. Like people can go on and on about how fun the LDB is but the show gives us numerous examples (even within the revival) that they truly would put another person's safety or even their own in jeopardy if it meant "having a good time" in the rich people's sense. Even the club scene in AYITL is so obnoxious because it's just a bunch of grown men annoying other attendees in the dance place and then being all "I'm buying the place so that you people can't get a piece of it!", like genuinely what an asshole

No but seriously when you are or have been a foreigner what Colin did goes from being a dark joke to downright horrifying. Not only did he drag her over to a country where she doesn't know the language, he flew her across the globe. It's not like he took her over to London, where she could always grab a one-hour-ish flight or even a train (because yes you can do that in Europe), he took her across the Atlantic Ocean to a country with some serious border control (no Schengen in the US) and then expected her to what? Hang out? Apparently this girl is a milkmaid who only speaks Dutch (which btw stereotype much) so I'm guessing she doesn't have the resources to book a flight back home or the ability to get a translator who can help her do it. Call me dramatic, but in a much much darker show this could have been a trafficking storyline.

The whole situation just really points out how Colin and the LDB not only don't care about anyone but themselves but genuinely view other people as sources of entertainment that they can push around however they want until they get bored and just ignore them. Like, did Colin think to maybe arrange for her to get home safely? Did the thought of telling him to, or to not let him take her to the US in the first place, even occur to Logan and Finn?

And these are the same people who hold a public party celebrating Rory's felony. The same people who apparently steal boats themselves all the time, and so much more. The same people who claim that a meticulously organized bungee-jumping event in ball gowns is somehow closer to real life than anything in Rory's life. The problem isn't them being rich people who have fun. It's that their idea of fun is doing literal harm to other people through theft and manipulation and almost kidnapping, all the while ignoring the incredibly expensive and important degree they got into Yale to actually work on and waiting for their parents to bail them out of jails and pay their university to keep them on for yet another year and spit in the face of higher education again.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Molly thinks that Bill’s and the reader relationship is a mistake so she wants them apart from each other. Bill’s against his mother wishes and he find a way to drag the reader into the Weasley family officialy

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi! Part 4 of this thing lol. I’m so happy that you guys like this story. It’ll have like 20 chapters or so, i’m still deciding that so yeah, that’s pretty much the thing. Btw, from now on chapters will be more interestings... i hope so lol. Again, english not my mother language. Please let me know if something’s wrong. Aaaaaand if you want to be tagged in the next chapters tell me and i will add you! Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Arguments

The rest of the afternoon passed as normal as the days before your arrival. Arthur Weasley made sure of it. Even if Molly attacked you with her dagger gaze when you and Bill hugged each other after you were done with dessert.

You didn’t know what Mr. Weasley had talked about with his wife while you were taking a shower, however, you noticed the tension rising from their bodies after you sat down at the table next to Bill and saw an annoyance sign on Molly’s lips. Her temple was frowned, reminding you of your own mother's gestures. Those flaming eyes, cleft chin, and pinion lips. Both women contract their features too much when they were upset and in your distress, you knew that they must not be disturbed.

The last thing you wanted was to hurt a marriage as solid as the Weasley's. More than once you heard your mother talk about it with your nanny making a powerful emphasis on how Molly and Arthur were able to carry out their marriage even if their economic conditions were precarious and the war was on their heels. They were an envied couple. Few dared to expand the family as much as they did without money in their pockets and spreading their progeny like a plague. No one was surprised, not even your mother, not when her marriage to Evan Grant was merely for financial advantage. Now Arthur and Molly looked upset, too upset for your understanding and you just hoped they could get along soon.

You weren't sure you deserved the sacrifice Bill's father had made for you, yet a flame of hope lit up in your chest. If Mr. Weasley started to trust you that was a good sign for others to do as well, right?

The afternoon continued as normal, seeing how Bill's plans to distract you from the fervent harassment of his mother was marred by the twins intervention. They had just finished a new product for their store and needed a good taster to certify the quality of their merchandise. It was a bad idea, he told himself, because twins were just a disaster and you didn't know them well enough to deny their good-natured pretensions.

"Be kind!" He yelled at them as Fred and George pulled you into their. Bill exhaled, pleading that his brothers wouldn't bother his girlfriend more than his mother already had.

Before taking you home, he thought about the pros and cons of your stay in the burrow. His conclusion was based on the fact that his entire family welcomed Harry Potter with open arms, so you didn't have to be the exception. He knew the difference in conditions in which his theory developed, yet he put his trust in the good judgment of his family even if the Grants' past left much to be desired. Bill didn't talk much about you with his mother, in fact, your presence at home was the last of his worries, the real problem came at the time of joining the Order of the Phoenix, would you be willing to fight against your relatives even if that mean betraying your own blood? Bill hope you will

Coming downstairs, Bill found his mother storing the leftover food in the fridge while the dishes soaked in the sink. Then he watched her clean each plate with her bare hands, no magic. William knew his anger was real.

"Want some help with that?"

"I'd love to, honey, thank you," his mother answered without looking at him. Bill raised the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, dipping his hands into the tide of water and bubbles that flew across the kitchen. Molly was silent, drying the dishes and flying them to her place in the display case across the kitchen. Bill cleared his throat doubtfully "It never hurts to help, much less when I have so many things to do before the rest of the Order arrive"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with that too."

"Perfect"

"Mom, can we talk?"

"About what?

"You know what," Bill clicked his tongue, passing her the last plate from the sink to continue with the spoons. "(Y/N)..."

"Your father has scolded me enough about that girl, I don't need you to do it too"

"I wouldn't if you had a little consideration with her."

"More consideration?" Molly asked in a squeak. Bill shook his head. "I'm letting her stay at my home!"

"Our home, mom, ours," he corrected, drying his hands with a cloth. "This house also belongs to my dad, my brothers, and me. It's the burrow, a family property, not a secret club where some people can get in and others cannot."

"You know what I think of her"

"And you know I don't care." Molly looked scandalized at her son. She didn't understand what he had seen in someone like you or what you had given him to come out and defend you as he did "I don't ask you to love her, but at least you have to try...

"Have you ever wondered what will happen when she betrays us?"

"That's not gonna happen"

"You're very sure of that, William"

"I'm convinced, Mom. You don't know her like I do and, you know what? I see that wanting to talk to you was a mistake"

"Moody thinks like me," Molly stopped him when Bill was ready to go upstairs. The woman clung to the railing watching her son standing in the first step out of the kitchen "(Y/N) Grant is a danger to the Order"

"Really? Like Mundungus Fletcher? I beg your pardon, mom, but if there is anyone who represents a latent danger to the Order of the Phoenix, it's him and yet you have assigned him for the mission tonight"

Molly's lips parted and if it weren't for the fact that Bill knew her mother too well, he might think the woman was about to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum. Still, she clenched the bars tightly, her brow furrowed, and the redness on her cheeks washed over her forehead.

"William!" Don't talk to me like that!"

"I wouldn't if you had a little more respect for my girlfriend."

"Don't you understand? I care about you! For all of us!" She snarled angrily. "Having a Riddle in this house..."

"A Grant, mom, (Y/N) is a Grant and that's not the same." Bill descended his steps, approaching her mother, returning that angry look that she had inherited from him. It was a strange sensation. A dyad of emotions between joy and fear where the composed emotion was guilt. He had never exploded that way with his mother, but Molly hadn't behaved that way with anyone either "His grandfather is Lord Voldemort's half-brother and his brothers are all Death Eaters, what does it matter? (Y/N) is not. And when do we judge others by where they come from? If so, we could start with half of us. Being a Weasley is equivalent to being a blood traitor"

"William!"

Molly's face went from fury to shock to fury again. Bill's eyes were twinkling and Molly swore she had never seen any of her children this angry, or worse, this determined.

"What would you have done, Mom?" Bill questioned taking his mother by his arms in an attempt to make him feel her despair. Molly opened her eyes, scared. "When your family tell you not to accept dad? When your brothers object to your engagement, just 'cause the Weasleys have long been considered blood traitors?"

For the first time that day Molly's mind went blank, Bill guessed, rewinding the memories of how difficult it was for the Prewetts to accept the marriage. Bill pleaded silently, but pulled away from her when his mother gave no indication to be a little more respectful with you.

"We aren't like that. We don't separate people by where they come from, we hug them" Bill resumed his way towards the stairs, stopping a couple of steps up, turning to take a look at Molly's stunned figure "As you did with Hermione, Remus and Harry when you and Dad became his godparents after Sirius died. (Y/N) is no different"

"She will turn her back on us when the Order fight the Grants. That moment will come and you know it"

"Don't worry, i'll make sure that doesn't happen"

"She is not part of this family"

"That can be solved very easily," he said and the smile he wore gave her a terrible chill down her spine. "Because I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

Molly's gasp was the only thing Bill heard before climbing the stairs and heading to the twins' room. He always respected his mother a lot and even thinking of opposing to her wishes was inconceivable, but your well-being was something that was involved and Bill couldn't just let her mother control his life at her will. Maybe the mistake he made was not telling his parents the truth about you from the start or, in that case, mentioning that the woman he loved was the fucking niece of the strongest fucking dark wizard of all time.

Bill Weasley rubbed his face as he reached the twins' door. He no longer had to torment himself, it was done and the only thing pending at the moment was to get Harry out of his uncles' house, take him safely to the burrow and find the courage to do what he told his mother he would do.

Would you agree to marry him? He hoped so and if not, he wouldn't pressure you. You were young - even a little younger than him - and it would be understandable if you refused to tie your life to someone else's from one moment to the other. The war progressed every day and if you were going to do it, you would do it as soon as possible.

Loud laughings brought him out of his thoughts to observe you and his brothers sitting on the floor, right in the center of both beds, laughing at each other and touching your faces. From the doorway Bill can't see the full painted room, however George's face showed a rather abstract mural full of bright colors when he felt the presence of his older brother. Fred did the same showing his face in the same situation and then you turned to Bill, still laughing and your face smeared with paint. It seemed the twins had created a paint bomb in millimeter pills, that explode when you put a little bit of pressure. You tried to clean yourself with the sleeve of your sweater but you spread the paint even more. Fred and George laughed and so did Bill.

His heart swelled with love as he saw that at least someone in his family - besides him and his father - had hope in you. God, he may have even cried with happiness.

Bill never understood how a sunshine as beautiful as you was never accepted in your entire life.

Tags:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

Thanks for the 100 followers!❤

[wis-art]

Straight people go insane when queers aren't specifically making art about themselves to appease the cis people, they get really angry when there's no character they can project themselves onto. Why is everyone gay, my friend group is almost exclusively gay and we have different experiences. It's unrealistic for every sibling to be queer. I guess my family is very unrealistic (and therefore should be swept under the rug because statistically improbable).

Aren't you supposed to represent people in your art? Well I don't ever see big gay friend groups where everyone is gay and talks exclusively with queer people about queer things written by queer people very often in stories, I do see that in straight stories though.

But why does the story need to be gay why can't it be normal?

Fuck you.

Ugh but you're portraying queer people in such a bad and unrealistic light why are your characters not exactly like me?

Queer people aren't allowed to be flawed(both in fiction and in real life), until that's the case we are not really free. I will write stories about flawed and stupid and evil queers that make mistakes because that's what real people do, not just the gays.

Why don't you include more gay men in your story/art?

I'm like somewhere in between a kinky lesbian and very biased bisexual woman who likes almost exclusively women, I relate to lesbians a lot more to women and I will make art about (mostly) queer women!!!!!!!!!!!

"why don't you draw more straight couples and cis people in your art"

My answer to that is really easy, why don't you go read like every other piece of media ever, we do not have a shortage of cishet media in this world.

[babyybitchhh]

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.

[cangrellesteponme]

Hello. I just discovered your blog, and I wanted to ask you something regarding Devils and Realist. Mind you, I have never read the manga nor watched the anime. Is Dantelion a teenager or an adult? I'm asking because I've seen people ship him with William, who's 17, and from what I can gather, William seems to be a reincarnation of Dantelion's past master. I just hope that this isn't a Seb*ciel situation is all I'm saying.

Hi anon, welcome to hell, aka my blog.

I'm going to be honest with you there, it's questionable at best. I cannot give you a definitive answer on "is this ship morally acceptable?", but I want you to be able to figure that out for yourself, so I'm going to give you all of the facts as I know them. With minimal spoilers.

(However I can very easily say that this is not a Seb*ciel situation. We're not talking about p*dobait written by someone who depicts children in gross and undefendable ways at every single occasion. We're also not talking about content that can and has been used to groom children. So if your concern is about real life influences and consequences, don't worry- this is inconsequential compared to the disgusting sins of Kuro.)

So, what do we know about Dantalion/William?

Starting with the "this is weird!!" parts:

William is 17 at the beginning of the manga, and Dantalion thinks he's Solomon immediately. At that point it has already been implied (and guessed by William himself) that D and S were lovers. We never see Dantalion in his human (don't quote me on that the lore is messy) youth, and though his human form is supposedly of an appropriate age for the setting (17-18) it's barely different from his true form (yeah, the millennia-old one, which does canonically look youthful, but also if he's as scary as canon says he is I'm going to assume it's youthful as in under 30). Demons sort of canonically care more about age than physical appearance (I'm making this assumption based on Lamia. Dantalion seems to be the only one who minds.) which... complicates things. William is canonically a completely separate person (and soul) from Solomon, so yes that's a 17-18 year old, 100%.

Now the "I mean... I guess it works?" parts:

William turns 18 in the manga, and the most popular (and heavily supported by canon, with things like "Your soul should know") interpretation is that Dantalion only really likes William near the very end of the manga. You could even argue the only somewhat romantic thing between them happens in the very last chapter (but that's only if you don't count the countless moments when Dantalion misses Solomon so much William just has to witness his intense yearning). None of the romance is confirmed, the only person who's canonically attracted to Dantalion is Gilles (I refuse to add Lamia. It's depicted both too childishly and too politically to matter.) but even that is arguably not true and that's... a whole other issue I'm not going to get into right now. Makai Ouji is not a romance, the main plot is political intrigue with lots of occult BS.

And finally the "this could go either way but it needs to be considered and interpreted because it's relevant" parts:

This manga (and anime) is very queerphobic (this is not up for debate. dare question my words and I will get angry.) in many (unintentional, I think) ways and its "unapologetic" depictions of "in your face" queerness are bad (Gilles. he's so bad he makes Grelle look like good trans rep. and I love him but this is terrible.), but also it does not shy away from representing unhealthy relationships that could very much seem queer (Michael and Uriel are just one example among many). But it has always depicted Dantalion and William as healthy. (Which gave me whiplash reading the manga because Dantalion and Solomon were mutually destructive. The contrast is baffling.) All of the canon romances are m/f (Gilles/Dantalion is one-sided and only seen a few times. and again, could not be an actual thing). Lots of romantic tropes and typical subplots apply to Dantalion/William.

And my very simplified opinion (for your own peace of mind, or need to unfollow/block me):

ngl I'm just here to see Dantalion yearn for Solomon, some dead guy who never treated him right. Dantalion/William? whatever I don't fucking care I don't ship it. if you ask me (sorry if you don't get that reference), shipping them is like shipping inukag, but I was an inukyo bitch. (like sure, I could like the alive, currently canon version... but why the fuck would I? also similar age gap) I think the romantic moments are peak romance because the angst is spicy as hell. and Dantalion says the cutest shit (again, "Your soul should know" fucking haunts me, this dude wants Solomon to be there so fucking bad it's lovely and sad). but as I've said, it's technically not canon? like, even the gayest interpretation of Makai Ouji is that these hoes still don't date. honestly if Dantalion/William really bothers you it's still readable, just skip the very last page of the manga and you'll be fine? even the end isn't that bad. if you want to avoid questionable/triggering things in Makai Ouji this ship isn't what you should be worried about. worry about the homophobia, transphobia, (we're talking Kuro levels and above) issues of consent (but it is depicted as bad. there's just a lot going on.), weird amount of whiteness????, and other things. but again, it's readable, the anime is worse than the manga tho (it's really not that bad still).

[ouyangzizhensdad]

(1/2) isn't it hypocritical of you to pick on cql fans for their purposeful misreading of canon (which some do, i'm not denying that at all) and then turn around and do that to someone who hasn't said anything critical of mdzs? that person was just listing the merits of each adaptation and you just tore into them as if them saying that cql has any merits at all is an insult to mdzs.

2/2 for example, you pick on the three bows thing, but that is novel canon too and cql shows multiple instances of people bowing in respect only twice, so it's not insanely far-fetched that the three bows are read as an acknowledgement of their marital status. anyway, you're perfectly free to see it as bows of respect, but there's little need to ridicule someone who says they see it differently and that they like cql because of it.

3/2 and i'm sorry if i'm taking too much of your time, i guess i'm a little upset because i've always seen you as a voice of reason in the fandom. to see you make multiple posts tearing down what is an uncontroversial statement (that canon and all adaptations have their own merits, and people shouldn't be judged for preferring one over the other) is a bit hurtful. you say you don't hate cql, but you certainly seem eager to shit on anyone who has anything nice to say about it? 

Hi anon,

I’m not sure I’d consider it hypocritical. I don’t think I’ve ever operated with the caveat that I should only be critical of the arguments of people who have been critical of the book in turn--I guess the baseline is that I am critical of all things I come across. I am not likewise sure I’ve “torn down” into that person or “ridiculed” them. I’ve quoted one part “all adaptations are equally good” and said (yes, as per usual, in a bitter and pretentious tone): “at least take the subjective route of equally enjoyable”. I don’t see how that’s being extremely mean about cql: my view was more that it irks me, for a lack of a better word, that people truly just push aside all the very real issues at a technical level (aside from anything that has to do with the writing or creative choices) that prevents cql, imo, to be considered comparable to other adaptations like the audio drama or the donghua even if it is not my particular cup of tea--but that this does not mean I said that c/ql cannot be enjoyable. I guess I have my issues with people generally being unable to distinguish with a well-made piece of fiction versus one they enjoyed. And that I am still a little bit flabbergasted that it remains a controversial statement to explain that c/ql, despite trying very hard, has many issues that directly impact it’s ability to stand as a well-made tv series.

Then, I think a few days later, I showed the arguments being leveraged by that same person to argue c/ql was just as good or what it ‘brought’ to the table that the other adaptations didn’t (partly because they were representative of many others I had encounter) and ‘responded’ to them one by one underlining how I was left unconvinced by them. I mentioned how one argument in favour (it includes more emotional scenes of wwx crying and being angry) could be read as a failure of the adaptation to stay true to the characterisation of the main character, who is textually said to rarely cry or get angry. I questioned whether it was such a “win” for c/ql to include more scenes of wq and jyl considering how we can infer why this change too place, and how it focuses on a quantitative reading--it’s less a ‘the book handled female characters sooooo much better’ argument than a a ‘we’re really going to give kudos to a tv series because we saw the female characters more often, regardless of how this impacts their characterisation, agency and impact on the story on a narrative and thematic level or why this change likely was made?’.

Then, the three bows thing. I won’t pretend to be an expert here, but my understanding which has come from discussion with Chinese or chinese-diasporic people, is that the third bow must be to one another (bow to the heaven and earth 一拜天地, to the parents 二拜高堂, then to each other 夫妻对拜). We can consider the three bows a wink-wink from the production team because that was the best they could do in the circumstances, maybe. But can we say that these can really be read as an “acknowledgement of their marital status”? It’s different from the novel because wwx talks about reserving that third bow to one another for later. This relates as well to the way fandom have sort of exaggerated aspects of CQL due to misunderstanding certain cultural or linguistic aspects of it, as we have with people being convinced zhiji must always be a grand romantic declaration. Is it a crime to choose to interpret/headcanon these things that way? Of course not. But does it make for good arguments to argue c/ql brought something special to the table that the other works didn’t? I don’t think so.

Overall, I won’t pretend I don’t have a very bitter and pretentious way of phrasing things but I do wonder if that’s where I consider it gets into ‘ridiculing’ territory--I didn’t call them names or anything, I just responded to their points. But the truth is, as you might think that I am targeting that person, whoever they are, for ‘liking c/ql,’ that’s just how I am in general, about all things: I am critical of any arguments I hear and I have no filter. I’m actually trying to be courteous by keeping my responses to my blog, not reblogging from their posts, cutting off the person’s profile picture or name, etc. because in any case more often than not they simply represent to me an illustrative example. Hell, I even get to re-read how I worded things which makes them come out way better than in real life.

You can of course consider that I was out of line! Perhaps it is the pitfall of considering a person a certain thing. Even if you think of someone a “voice of reason” you might also consider that some of the stuff they do or say is a little bit unreasonable. We all draw lines differently. Just because you generally agree with someone does not mean some of the stuff they say or do won’t make you shake your head in disapproval. And if you dislike these posts of mine but still want to stay for the rest, you can blocklist “brine corner”. Unfortunately, although many have tried to change this, I am an incurable critic who is terminally and brutally honest.

[taeslovehandles]

I never meant to target you and I'm sorry you felt that way. You properly tag everything and adhere to the "don't like, don't read" rule. I don't follow you nor you follow, because we simply don't vibe together and that's okay.

But there are posts that are on the more "innocent" side that do represent fat people as a joke and it's like they don't even realize it because it's something so well ingrained in our fatphobic society.

For example, all the characters are having fun except the fat one or referring to someone as "twice his size" (like... If they want to say he's huge, they should just say it, not imply that there's a "right size" for someone to be).

I don't think authors should censor themselves, just acknowledge the role they play in how fat characters are perceived by the community they write for.

-🍓

First of all, since you obviously haven’t blocked me, you could have come to me via direct message. This is not a topic that needs to be brought out into the public eye even more than it already is. I have worked with anons before, I would have been the last person to reveal who you are. You could have made a trash account to message me in dm’s, but since you didn’t, I will reply to you here.

I want to make one thing clear. This will be my last response on the topic. If you do not like me as a member of the community please use the block button and filter me out, because I will stay. I have many friends here, and know that many people enjoy my content. Just because a small handful of people don’t appreciate dark themes in fiction, the contents of which they can easily protect themselves from, won’t make me falter.

Now, I want to debunk this ask because your ‘apology’ actually made me very upset.

I know you don’t mean it when you say you are sorry because you’re backpedaling on what you’ve told your friends and it really rubs me the wrong way. You could have owned up to your mistakes and apologized sincerely like others had but you continue to play victim and excuse your behaviour with tales of your own trauma, projecting your own insecurities onto my blog and thus hating me.

I know for a fact that you despise my blog, especially my writing, because you do not like how “obviously skinny people write about weight gain.”

Honey.

I couldn’t be any further from skinny.

I don’t mind sharing my actual weight, which has actually gotten worse due to COVID. I weigh 490lbs. I am morbidly obese. I have always been morbidly obese. For you to come and be “nitpicky” about a genre you don’t even enjoy? Why are you even reading my fics then?

The way I write about obese people, their struggles with literally everything… that comes from real life experience. I write this to share embarrassing and exhausting daily life tasks I personally struggle with.

A skinny person would never write some of the stuff I do, because they simply don’t know. They don’t know how scary it is to hear the line “we are going to a restaurant.” They don’t know how scary it is to go into that new restaurant, scan the chairs and think “Shit, am I gonna fit? Is the chair gonna creak? Is there enough space for the next table? What if I won’t fit?” A thin person doesn’t have to think this way.

And, let me tell you something else. Yes, I agree. The world is fatphobic.

In one of my recent posts I talked about movies and shows where they make fun of fat people because I hate it. Because it is REAL LIFE. And I am all for the body positivity movement and I do believe that all bodies are beautiful, because they are.

You do not know me personally.

And that leads to my next point. If you personally have issues with the phrase “twice my size”, then that is on you. And guess what? I cannot count how often I’ve heard lines like that my whole life.

“Oh wow two people would fit in one of your pant legs.”

“Wow, you are so fat, I could use your pants as a tent.”

So trust me, I know. I KNOW. But anon, this is the important part for me. Everyone processes trauma differently.

Inked ch3? Or literally any story I have written with a fat character being forced, insulted and talked down to like they’re dumb? That’s what I have been living with my entire life. Most of these stories, some obviously more extreme than how I had experienced them since it’s fiction, have been recordings of trauma I have went through.

My own dad force fed me. Forced me to eat food and gain weight. My first boyfriend was a feeder that manipulated me into gaining more weight and took measurements. Called me pig names and abused me. Hit me, manipulated me into having s** with him and then let all of his fantasies out on me.

I don’t make this shit up. I hate my brain for being so twisted now, that I actually find it hot and arousing. It’s weird. I know, but that’s how it is.

I’ve also never had friends in school. Not even kindergarten. Why? Because my “fat incased body could spread like a virus.” I was being bullied like JK was in Pondus.

I had hot water thrown at me, got glue put on my seats and hair, had my hair ripped out and even got a cigarette burn mark on my arm. Just because I was fat. Just because of how my body was shaped.

I was strangled and locked into a small locker for a night. I was almost killed for running away from my abusive dad from his car and had to listen to things like, “You are going to die when you are 30. No one will ever love you and your body.” That I have trust issues now and am paranoid about everything and everyone.

Those dark stories. I use those dark stories to try to work through my trauma. And yes, it may be absurd to you. It may disgust you, what I write. But sadly, most of it? Most of it really happened to me. To me and other people I’ve talked to as a friend or seen online. Most of what I write will be dark because the human species is made up of terrible creatures.

Fatphobia is an important topic, and I am happy the media has been slowly getting better about it, that people accept us more. But my writing is how I work with my trauma. If I can make fictional characters feel the same things I had to feel, that makes me feel better.

And I’m not hurting anyone with it. So how is it wrong?

I do not support any of this behaviour in real life. I never bullied anyone, I always try to speak up for my friends and tell people if they are being assholes. Because I hate them too and it makes me angry when good people get shit when they do nothing but breathe.

And how @pudgecuddles already said. I don't need you to advocate for body positivity and all that shit when you go out of your way to bully someone that may have experienced the same shit you have. I do not know you or what you went through in your life, but I am sorry. I’m sorry you feel like my stories aren’t okay to write, but this is how I work on my trauma and I need you to respect that.

I’ve said this before. We don’t have to be friends, or even talk to each other.

Just be neutral.

Block me. Filter me out. Pretend I don't exist. But, whatever you do, don’t make posts that call me out while making it obvious you’re talking about me, with the cover that you are advocating against fatphobia. That’s got a name. Cyber-bullying.

Have you hurt me with those posts? Yes you have, but I’ve never wanted bad blood. As you may have noticed, it wasn’t me that made a post. It was my good friend. Because I told her how exhausting it was and she knew about the posts back then.

I have a good idea of who you are.

I remember you.

But I kept my mouth shut. Because this community is my home and the last thing I wanted was for the people who like both of our types of content to feel like they have to choose sides.

In the end, we all rub one out to fat gay boys in a band. No user is better than the rest, and if there are topics you do not enjoy, there is a button for it. No need to drag everyone into it with posts. It’s exhausting and irritating.

Now, I do not accept your apology because you lied to me and I also do not feel like you meant it sincerely knowing what I know now after reading some dm’s. But I also won’t sit here and start shit.

This is my last post about this.

Please block me and enjoy the content you do like.

Nonetheless, I hope you have a nice day and a lovely weekend. Whatever you are experiencing or going through, I hope it gets better. Because even if you hate me personally for creating content you do not support, I’d say that I am a really friendly and nice person.

I do not believe that anyone deserves to be bullied like that and talked down in official posts. It happened before with a friend of mine and you probably remember that I did speak up about it.... But apparently no one learned from it. I really hope this time you do.

Insult me and shit talk me all you want in dm’s, but don’t do it publicly. No one deserves that kind of hate or passive aggressiveness. No one. Since you sound like someone that went through a lot of shit too, you should know better. You should know how it feels to be bullied and what damage it can cause.

I’m already depressed enough and I have bad lows. Let me write my erotica and just enjoy it? That’s all I want? I am a part of this community just like you were. You leaving because you did not like my content, is not my problem. If you cannot block me or ignore it and go so far as to read them and then rant about them negatively, what do you want me to do? I won’t leave the scene just because you don’t like me.

So, you either trash talk me in dm’s from now on so that I do not see it, or you block me. The latter of which would be the more mature thing to do. The more humane thing to do. Because talking behind someone’s back is just as bad.

Again, I don’t know why you felt like it was necessary to send me an ask with lies in it when I got screenshot proof of something else you have said/issues with, so don’t backpedal on me. I know Hun. I know already.

At least stick to what you said and actually apologize or, if you can’t, just block me.

But this ask? This ask just upset me.

Have a nice day.

p.s: The fact that this even needs to be talked about is so absurd and ridiculous to me. The whole thing is a petty party in my eyes that isn't even worth anyone's time? Do people on here really not have any other issues right now or am I in the wrong movie?