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starkaft3rdark · 11 months
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Fandom: Pokemon | Black & White 2 Title: Disguise Word Count: 2,257 Tags: NSFW (to be safe) | Mild somnophilia/noncon Warnings: None Commission: Yes
Figuring out Ghetsis’s next move was proving nearly impossible. The true leader of Team Plasma had gone into hiding months before, but the evidence of his power was still obvious around the Unova region. Suspicions of Team Plasma activity in the Sinnoh region had caught the attention of Professor Rowan, who passed his suspicions on to the champion of Sinnoh, Cynthia.
Cynthia had already been in Unova for several weeks, seeking out new challengers and further honing her skills as a trainer. The call from Rowan had been out of courtesy just to let Cynthia know what was happening, but the professor should have known she wouldn’t be able to leave it well enough alone. She had already made connections throughout the region, and after getting wind of a rumored Team Plasma hideout near the outskirts of Undella Town, she knew she couldn’t sit idly by, especially not with the influx of missing pokemon she had heard about recently.
The building in question was a long abandoned hospital, with three stories and several entrances. A chain link fence surrounded the structure, dotted with signs touting “No Trespassing” and promises of arrest if caught on sight. However, the pried open fence door as well as the unmistakable lights dancing through the windows gave away the fact it was currently occupied. 
Well, that and the two armed grunts currently positioned outside the front entrance.
Cynthia surveyed the area from her position behind the large garbage bins near the fence, taking note of the two grunts as well another one situated close to the fence gate. However, the backside to the building was completely unguarded. All she had to do was get through the fence at the back and she would be able to slink inside. The cover of darkness combined with her usual all black attire meant she had luck on her side. 
Taking cautious steps, Cynthia skirted around some debris littering the ground, her footsteps muffled by the overgrown weeds that clawed at the cracked pavement. With each careful movement, she ensured her presence remained concealed from any prying eyes that might linger in the surrounding darkness. She kept her gaze on the grunts within sight until she could no longer see them, concealing herself around the corner leading to the back half of the building. Just as she expected, there was no one guarding that area. 
Another quick survey and she let out a breath of relief. Not only were there no grunts in sight, but no surveillance cameras seemed to be hooked up, and she could only assume that meant the security system was offline as well. She eased towards the back door, trying the handle to find that it was indeed unlocked.The handle creaked softly as she eased it down, and the rusty hinges let out a squeak as she shouldered the door inward. She winced, her whole body tensing as the sound seemingly echoed into the darkened corridor before her. She paused, but heard no footsteps or voices within. She quickly ducked inside and eased the door closed behind her, giving herself a moment to adjust to the darkness. The corridor seemed to stretch forever before her, but the silence offered her some comfort as she began to carefully walk forward. 
“Is someone there?” 
The voice echoed out of nowhere, and Cynthia froze, her eyes darting around. As a beam of light from a handheld torch illuminated the end of the corridor, Cynthia hurriedly darted towards a sideroom, leaving the door cracked in order to keep an eye on the intruder. Well, technically Cynthia was the intruder, but she couldn’t get caught up on semantics now.
“I heard you back there!” The female voice called out, and Cynthia watched as the beam of light came closer. The grunt’s heels echoed on the floor, and soon enough the woman came into the champion’s view. “Show yourself, or you’ll regret it!”
Cynthia narrowed her eyes. The woman stood roughly the same height as Cynthia, her uniform indicative of her allegiance to Team Plasma. She looked young, possibly the same age as Cynthia or younger, with a tuft of short red hair peeking out from beneath her black hat and blue eyes peering out from above the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Cynthia hadn’t fully thought out her plan, mainly it was just to get inside, get proof of Team Plasma’s activities, then report back to the authorities and Professor Rowan, but she had come prepared in case someone like the grunt before her gave her the chance to attempt something that had seemed a good idea to her when she thought of it. Cynthia needed to be able to move freely throughout the building, without ducking into nooks and crannies to avoid detection, and the best way to do that was to dress the part. 
As the grunt continued to shine her light about the hallway, checking doors as she went, Cynthia reached inside the bag she carried on her shoulder and retrieved the handkerchief and the small vial she had obtained before setting out on her quest. The label said nothing, only portrayed a small sticker of an Oddish, but the contents shimmered even in the darkness. She popped the top off and, holding her breath, coated one side of the handkerchief in the powdery substance, then continued to watch the grunt through the crack in the door.
Once the redhead turned her back to the door, Cynthia struck. Moving swiftly, she flung the door open and closed the distance between her and the grunt in the blink of an eye. The grunt let out a startled sound when Cynthia’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, her other hand moving to the grunt’s face and covering her nose and mouth with the handkerchief. The grunt struggled, letting out another muffled cry, but the sleeping powder proved fast and effective, and the flashlight hit the ground with a loud thud as the grunt fell unconscious in Cynthia’s arms. Pocketing the used handkerchief, Cynthia kicked the flashlight into the room she was previously occupying before dragging the grunt inside and quickly shouldering the door closed behind her.
Cynthia let the unconscious form of the grunt fall fully to the ground before she grabbed the flashlight and positioned it on the corner of a nearby table, letting it illuminate the corner of the room they inhabited. She set her bag on the same table before deftly undoing the buttons of her coat, laying it next to her bag. Next, she removed the fur ruff from around her neck, and then her hair clips, stuffing them inside the bag so she wouldn’t accidentally leave them laying around for someone to find and trace back to her.
She pulled her shirt off over her head, her skin prickling at the feel of the cool air around her. Then she deftly undid the button and zipper of her slacks; in the dim light, the fabric whispered against her skin as she peeled the sleek garment away, revealing the muted contours of her form. Next she undid the straps of her heels and stepped out of them, only thin stockings protecting her feet from the bare floor. She gathered her clothing and placed them with the rest of her items on the table before turning her attention to the unconscious grunt, kneeling down beside the redhead. 
The flashlight shone like a spotlight on the grunt. Cynthia first took the hat and laid it aside, then moved the woman closer so she could begin to undress her. The elbow gloves came off easily, as did the vest, which Cynthia laid beside her. She then unclasped the belt around the grunt’s waist and then moved to slip the knee high boots off. 
Cynthia’s fingers swiftly worked to undo the zipper and fastenings of the Team Plasma body suit that encased the woman’s unconscious form. The beam from the flashlight traced the contours of the female figure, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the sleek fabric. With a measured touch, Cynthia carefully peeled the body suit away, revealing the woman’s plain undergarments and the bare expanse of the skin beneath. The material whispered softly as it slid from the woman’s form, leaving her in a state of vulnerable undress. 
As Cynthia’s hand brushed over the grunt’s exposed skin, prickled slightly from the cold, the unconscious woman let out a quiet moan, her lips moving beneath the fabric of her mask. Eyebrow arching in curiosity, Cynthia moved her hand to inspect the bra the grunt wore, checking for a communication wire or other such device that might be needed for the uniform, and the grunt let out another moan.
Cynthia’s fingers prodded the band of the bra, and then moved up slightly. She cupped the grunt’s right breast, eliciting another moan. Moving her other hand, Cynthia cupped the left breast next, squeezing both softly, and caused the unconscious woman to twitch beneath her touch. Cynthia felt the grunt’s nipples harden against her palms, poking through the fabric of the white bra cups. 
Is the sleeping powder wearing off already? Cynthia wondered. She had half a bottle left, but she thought she had coated the handkerchief with enough to keep the grunt out cold for a few hours at least. She squeezed the grunt’s breasts again, nipples firmly pressed against her palms, and the grunt shuddered slightly, head lolling to the side, but made no other notion of waking. 
It was better to be safe than sorry, which is why Cynthia had come prepared for that as well. Unhanding the grunt, Cynthia stood upright, still clad only in her own black undergarments and a pair of stockings, and stepped over to rifle through her bag. There, she retrieved the cut of rope and another handkerchief, and returned to where the grunt lay on the floor. With a forceful nudge, Cynthia flipped the grunt over onto her stomach and crouched over her, yanking her hands behind her back. The champion looped the rope around the grunt’s wrists and secured it, before trailing the rope down the grunt’s exposed backside to knot the rope around her ankles. With meticulous care, Cynthia made sure the rope was pulled tight and the knots even tighter, guaranteeing that if the woman awoke before Cynthia was out of the building, there was no way she could get out of the predicament without help from a blade.
After pulling the last knot tight, Cynthia lowered herself to her knees, straddling the unconscious woman as she undid the back of the mask that covered her mouth. Holding it in her teeth for now, Cynthia twisted up the handkerchief and slipped it around the grunt’s head, pulling it between her lips and tying it in a double knot behind her head beneath her short red hair. Looking over her work and finding it satisfactory, Cynthia stood and then dragged the grunt over to lean her against the wall, bound and gagged to keep from alerting any other henchmen or women to Cynthia’s presence within the facility.
Pleased with a job well done, Cynthia turned her attention back to the task at hand. Retrieving the sleek bodysuit, she eased it over her stocking clad feet and pulled it up her legs and over her thighs, yanking as needed. How Plasma could find the energy to perform their tasks as capably as they did while wearing something so tight, she didn’t know, but she would be able to deal with it for as long as it took to gather the evidence she needed. Once at her waist, it was easier to get the top half on, slipping her arms into the sleeves and straightening it at her neck before zipping it up and refastening the clasps. The gloves came easily, and thankfully, she and the grunt shared the same shoe size. Once the boots were secured on her feet and smoothed up to her knees, Cynthia stretched slightly, testing them. The uniform she would get rid of once she was done, but the boots she decided were to her liking enough to stay as a part of her wardrobe. It was a small payment for a good deed, she thought. 
Her hair was her biggest problem, but she managed to pin it back enough to pile most of it beneath the hat that was part of the ensemble, leaving only a few ends peeking out as well as her iconic bangs covering one eye. Then, she secured the mask over her lips and nose, feeling her disguise complete. Though it made her shudder to don the apparel of such an atrocious group of people, it also made a shock of power course through her; she could move unnoticed throughout the base now, she could do whatever she wanted, and no one would question her or her motives. For all intents and purposes, she was the villain now. 
Smoothing her hands down the front of the bodysuit, she reached for the belt and secured it around her slender waist with a loud click, then retrieved her camera from her bag and tucked it into one the largest pouch that the belt housed. She grabbed the flashlight that the grunt had provided and headed for the door; if anyone asked, she was just doing a routine check of the exits and nothing more. And if that didn’t work, well…
Cynthia grabbed the bottle of sleeping powder and tucked it into the belt as well, just in case.
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Fandom: Dragon Ball Z / Dragon Ball Super Title: Massage Word Count: 1,457 Tags: NSFW | Reader Insert, human/Namekian sex, mild cumplay Warnings: None Commission: No
Ever since your relationship with Piccolo became serious, he had taken to sleeping in the nude and you weren’t complaining one bit.
Of course you found him attractive, but there was something about the sight him as he was now that really got to you. You were getting ready for bed when you noticed him standing with his arms crossed, looking out the bedroom window. Your eyes took in his broad shoulders, trailing down his muscled back and finally the curve of his buttocks. How he could have an ass like that seemed unfair to you, but you didn’t mind so long as you could grab it whenever you felt like it (as long as no one was looking, that is.)
You walked up to him quietly, slipping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his back. “You okay?”
“Mmm.” He replied succinctly. “I was simply waiting for you.”
You smiled. He couldn’t sleep in the bed you shared without you there. If you were away, he slept outside or in one of the training rooms. But he could never sleep alone in the bed that the two of you had been sleeping in together for so long.
You grabbed his hand and led him over to the bed to crawl under the covers. You noticed him let out a small grunt as his head hit the pillow, and you repeated your question from earlier.
He reached up to rub his shoulder, a heavy frown marring his face. “Gohan did very well during his training session today.” He grumbled, and you let out a soft giggle.
“How about a massage?” You suggested, and Piccolo “hmm-ed” in response. You had learned to decipher his sound cues long ago, and knew it meant yes. “Turn over on your stomach and relax.”
He obeyed, turning over to lay on his stomach, crossing his arms under the pillow as he rested his head on it. You pulled away the covers to reveal his glorious backside again, bringing a smile to your lips. You threw your leg around his waist, gently straddling his back as your laid your hands on his big shoulders.
“Here?” You asked, squeezing his shoulders gently.
“Everywhere.” He muttered grouchily. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him.
You let your hands do the work, kneading his flesh with changing force as you felt it was needed. You moved your hands to the crook of his neck, digging your fingers in gently. You found the source of his discomfort, a bundle of muscle that had gotten knotted up with tension, and you focused all your efforts on that spot.
“Mmm,” Piccolo’s gravelly voice purred your arousal to life and your cheeks grew hot. “That’s amazing.”
“Good, I’m glad I can help.” You said softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. He let out another sound of pleasure, and you bit your bottom lip. Sometimes you hated how easily he could affect you, and your stupid body’s reactions to him.
Suddenly, Piccolo let out a throaty chuckle. “I see I’m not the only one enjoying myself.”
Remembering you were only wearing a t-shirt and panties, you realized he felt your pussy’s reaction to him. You let out a strangled cry before moving, but Piccolo reached back and grabbed your thigh, his massive hand keeping you in place.
“No, stay,” He commanded. He glanced at you over his shoulder, his fangs flashing at you as he smirked. “I like feeling your body respond to mine.”
Before you could utter a response, his hand moved up to lazily claw at your panties, leaving them torn and hanging haphazardly off of you.
“These are in the way.” He complained and then made himself comfortable again.
Your breath hitched as you maneuvered to remove the torn panties, tossing them aside. When you lowered yourself to his naked back again, you felt a shockwave flutter through your whole body. The way your legs were spread around him parted your pussy lips ever so slightly, and your already eager clit was pressing against the heat of his skin.
“The shirt, too.” Piccolo growled, and you wasted no time reuniting the garment with your ripped panties on the floor.
You returned your hands to his shoulders, though your touch was stuttering now, not quite as precise as it had been before. Piccolo shifted beneath you, and you let out a gasp as he arched his back just enough to press against your wet cunt, sending a wave of need coursing through your body
He chuckled, and you knew he was enjoying teasing you a little too much. Sending a playful glare to the back of his head, you ground your pussy against the small of his back, your clit hitting on the curve of his spine. You held back a small whimper, stopping yourself before you got carried away.
Until his gruff voice commanded you, “Keep going.”
You didn’t take a moment to question him. Instead, you obeyed. You slid your hands down, massaging down his sides as you began thrusting yourself against him. You didn’t know what it was about it, but you found it ridiculously hot. With each roll of your hips, the friction of your swollen clit against his back brought you closer to your release. You slowed your pace, not wanting it to end so soon. It felt too good.
With a small gasp you moved lower, leaving a glistening trail of wetness that gleamed against Piccolo’s green skin. It was like you were marking him, and something about it made you even more ravenous.
You dragged your cunt down his ass and up again, whimpering. Your lips were still spread from the width of his body, the sensitive bundle of nerves twitching with every move you made. You were dripping wet, your juices pooling onto his sculpted ass.
Piccolo shifted to slightly lean on his side, allowing you to continue pleasuring yourself against him. “Your heat is intoxicating,” He breathed, moving his hand down to wrap his fingers around his cock. You could see the pink tip of his massive erection, glistening with precum. He began pumping himself slowly, and made a low growling sound in his throat. “Your scent…”
His words of lust only furthered your actions, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could prolong it. The sight of him touching himself while you were already so close was enough to almost drive you over the edge. You gripped his hips, your nails digging in as you began to ride him in quick, rhythmic motions. You latched on to one spot in particular and stayed, grinding your clit against his smooth, hot skin. You felt his ass clench beneath you, his tightened muscles only serving to help you reach your end even faster.
“Ah!” You gasped out, your breaths coming in small, short bursts. One final round of fast, quick thrusts against him and you peaked, letting out a loud groan of release as the knot in your core unraveled and the intense orgasm rolled through you, making your toes curl. You closed your eyes against the sensation, grinding him softly to ride out the aftershocks that made your body twitch. The warmth beneath you made you realize just how good it had been, as Piccolo’s backside was coated in the juices of your heavenly release.
“Fuck,” You muttered softly. Despite the euphoria, the sight before you was already making you ready for another round. You trailed your fingertips through your cum, trailing it up to Piccolo’s back. You gathered more on your palms and began rubbing the small of his back, kneading him harshly. He groaned, his hand still pumping his cock.
“Don’t stop,” He said, and you didn’t. You continued to move your hands all over his broad back, marking him with the scent and warmth of your pussy. With each stroke of your hands, Piccolo pumped faster, and when you pressed yourself against his back, your breasts squeezing against him, his rhythm stuttered. You purred into his ear and his breath hitched, his hips twitching forward. He growled deeply, thrusting as his cock twitched and spilled his seed onto the bed sheets.
Without even taking a moment to catch his breath, Piccolo had you on your back, leaning over you. His mouth assaulted yours in a heated kiss, his long tongue slipping past your lips to taste as much of you as he could before you needed to break away.
“If you think we’re done for the night, you’re very wrong.” He smirked down at you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“I better be.” You replied, and you were met with another rough kiss.
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Fandom: Yu Yu Hakusho Title: Barfight Word Count: 1,655 Tags: SFW | Reader Insert, fight scene, hurt/comfort, whump, first meeting Warnings: Violence Commission: No
You’d had a hard day and just wanted to head to your favorite bar, have a few drinks, and relax before heading home and spending the weekend holed up in front of the TV. That didn’t sound too farfetched, right?
Wrong, apparently. You had somehow captured the attention of a group of guys without even trying or wanting to. They kept trying to send you drinks, which you kept having returned, and you could hear them loudly discussing the way you looked.
They were obviously drunk and getting drunker. You were starting to think you’d be better off grabbing some drinks from the convenience store and enjoying them at home.
You paid your tab and left a generous tip for the waitress, then headed for the door.
“Aw, where ya going?” The voice spoke as a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. It was one of the creeps, and you weren’t sure how they’d gotten to you that fast.
“Home. Now, let me go.” You snapped, attempting to snatch yourself free of their grip. It didn’t work, and only made him hold you tighter. He smelled heavily of booze and a strange sulfuric scent, and it made your stomach turn.
“I think you should stay.” He grinned lecherously down at you, and for a moment you thought you saw a glimpse of fangs in his mouth. You couldn’t be sure, and frankly, you didn’t really care. You just wanted him to let go of you. Without hesitation, you balled your free hand up in a fist and sent it flying at his face. He dodged, your blow missing him completely, and he laughed.
“You missed.” He taunted.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a fist came flying and connected with the creep’s jaw, causing him to release his hold on you and send him flying to the floor. The wielder of the fist, a very tall, muscular redhead, stood next to you glaring down at the fallen drunk.
Your eyes went wide. “Thank you!” You exclaimed, staring up at him.
“Don’t mention it. Are you okay?” He asked, looking you over. He seemed genuinely worried about you, but on edge at the same time.
“I’m fine,” You assured him, though you were sure your wrist would be obviously bruised by the morning.
He nodded. “Listen, you should get out of here before–,” He began, but trouble was already brewing again. The rest of the group of creeps started to head over, and looking at them now, you could see something was different about them. One had a tail, another had talons in place of fingernails, another had eyes covering their entire face. They weren’t human.
“What the hell?” You muttered.
“I know you, red,” Eyeball Face screeched. “You’re that Kuwabara kid.”
“I’m flattered that you know the name,” Your savior, Kuwabara, actually grinned. “If you get out of here without causing anymore trouble, I’ll let you live.”
The guy he had knocked out stood up from the floor, and his fangs were very obvious now. They jutted out from between his lips, dripping with green saliva. “Kill him.” He commanded.
And that was how you ended up in a bar fight with a guy you didn’t know and four…creatures?
“Get outta here!” Kuwabara yelled at you as he pummeled Fangs again, before he took out Talons with a sideways leg sweep. The other patrons of the bar, including the bartender, were fleeing the establishment, screaming their heads off.
“No way,” You muttered. He had saved you before, and even though you couldn’t believe the things he was fighting, you weren’t about to leave him. He was a big guy, but he was just one guy after all.
You knew how to use your fists and your feet, and anything you could pick up for that matter. Tail Guy had jumped up on the ceiling and skittered along it, dropping down behind Kuwabara to try and take him by surprise. You quickly grabbed a chair from a nearby table, using all your strength to knock him in the back of the head with it. It splintered against him, and he whirled around, setting his sights on you.
“Brat!” He hissed, taking a step towards you. You kicked his ankle, sending him down on one knee and cursing in pain.
You moved around him, trying to get to where Kuwabara was being double teamed by Eyeball Face and Talon. You grabbed a particularly sharp piece of the broken chair, determined that you would stab one of these freaks if you had to.
“Ow!” You screamed as a sharp, stinging pain shot through your leg. You looked back to see a tail retreating from the pained spot, a tail that looked more like a stinger on the end.
Tail Guy grinned wickedly at you before jumping onto the wall and scurrying off again. Pain still pulsated through your whole leg, but you weren’t going to let it stop you.
You reached the fight just as Talon jumped onto Kuwabara’s back, sinking his claws into the boy’s shoulder. He let out a massive yowl of pain, and the sound triggered you into action mode. Mustering all your strength, you raised the wooden stake you had salvaged and plunged it in the back of the monster attacking Kuwabara. He let out a cry that was less than human and you covered your ears as you watched him fall to the floor, writhing in pain.
Kuwabara turned around and faced you, a grin on his face. “Hey, nice one!”
“Thanks…” You murmured as the world seemed to spin around you. Your leg continued to pulse with pain, and your vision was swimming.
The last thing you saw before collapsing on the floor was a bright, golden light that almost looked like it was coming from Kuwabara’s hands…
Xxx
After what seemed like an endless fever dream of the wildest things your imagination could possibly muster, you woke up in a strange bed in a place you didn’t recognize. You immediately feared the worst, your heart beginning to race in your chest until you remembered the insane incident at the bar.
You sat up too quickly, nausea overwhelming you. You willed it to pass as you tossed the cover aside, looking down at your now bandaged leg. You remembered the way that thing had stung you with his tail the thought of the pain it had inflicted made you shudder.
“Oh, you’re awake!”
The gruff voice startled you and you looked over, realizing Kuwabara had been sitting in a chair across the room. Rather, he had been sleeping. He reached up to wipe the sleep from his eyes before he stood and walked over to your bedside. He towered over you, but you knew better than to be afraid. His height was a protecting comfort.
“Where am I?”  You asked, clearing your throat once you realized how deep your voice was from sleep. You felt heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“I brought you to my friends house…he’s good with plants, and that sting you got needed some special kinda mix I knew he would be able to make. Don’t worry, you’re safe.” He assured you. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and then stopped himself, meeting your gaze. “Is it ok if I…?”
You blinked, and then smiled softly before nodding. “Sure.”
He took his seat, the bed shifting noticeably with his weight. “So, how are you feeling?”
“Better,” You replied truthfully. “A little groggy, but I’m not complaining. What…” You frowned, chewing your bottom lip. “What the hell were those things?”
“Yeesh,” Kuwabara reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, taking a breath. “I’d say you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I guess since you saw ‘em…”
“And felt them.” You grumbled, jerking your leg slightly.
“Well,” He let out a breath, meeting your gaze before speaking again. “They were demons.”
Before you could ask anything else, Kuwabara began rattling off about demons, something called the Spirit World, and his best friend who was a detective? You were trying to keep up with it all, but it was a lot to take in, especially after dealing with what you now knew was a sting from a demon. As Kuwabara spoke, you watched as he excitedly used his hands, or frowned deeply when talking about a particular subject, or smiled widely when he brought up a fight he had won. He laughed at one point, and you found it an entirely pleasant sound. Although thinking about it, there really wasn’t a lot you didn’t find unpleasant about him.
“I’m sorry, here I am babbling about all this crap and you’re probably still tired,” Kuwabara smirked and stood up. “You should stay here and get some more rest. Like I said, you’re safe here. I can walk you home in the morning.”
You were tired, but you didn’t want him to stop talking. However, you could tell sleep wasn’t too far off. “Thank you, Kuwabara. For everything.” You told him softly.
“Hey, I should be thankin’ you too,” He replied. “You kinda saved my ass back there.”
You laughed. “I think you had it handled. But I at least tried.”
Kuwabara took his seat in the chair, picking up a manga volume you hadn’t seen before. You settled down to get some more sleep, when another question entered your mind.
“Did you have some kind of golden sword, or was that some kind of demon poison hallucination?” You asked through a yawn.
When Kuwabara excitedly starting rambling again, you fought very hard to stay awake, but his voice was quite nice to fall asleep to.
You assumed he must not have minded when you woke up later to find his chair moved closer to your bedside, his loud snores making you giggle quietly so as not to wake him up.
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Hello and welcome to my page!
My name is Stark (she/they), and I am a queer freelance writer and editor.
I take on commissions both SFW and NSFW in a wide array of fandoms, as well as original characters and settings. I also write personal projects, some of which will be shared here in order for you to get a better grasp on my writing style!
If you ever have any questions, want to commission me, or simply want to say hi, feel free to do so here on this blog or reach out to me on Discord under the username starkafterdark
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Fandom: Demon Slayer | Kimetsu no Yaiba Title: Death of the Butterflies Word Count: 2,500 Tags: NSFW | drama, character death, spoilers Warnings: Tagged NSFW for extreme gore including beheading as well as character death (obviously) Commission: Yes
The room was cozy and quiet. A warm glow cascaded from hanging lanterns, casting shadows across the floor. Three bedrolls lay ready and waiting in the center, but no one occupied them just yet. Kanao sat in a corner closest to one of the lanterns, her faithful coin glinting in the light. Shinobu sat peacefully beside the slightly open sliding door, peering out into the quiet night with her familiar smile poised on her serene face.
Aoi studied them both in quiet regard.
It would be the last night she shared with her sisters.
It had been a long battle between the demons and the corps. In fact, long was an understatement. It had begun long before Aoi was even born, and she assumed it would continue long after. She never thought she would live to see the day the demons were eradicated, and yet here she was, living in a time of peace. For now, at least. For a few more hours.
People like her and her sisters, strong and prominent fighters within the Demon Slayer Corps, had served their purpose. Very few of them were left as it was, and the Japanese government had no problem with that. Their only concern was those that remained, the ones who survived the final bloody battle. The only ones left that could serve as a testament to the existence and the struggle that the demons had wreaked upon society. It was quite literally a bloody stain on history, and it was one that everyone was willing to erase from the books. The three of them were the final chapter left to be erased.
The decision had come swift and final. The demons were gone, therefore, the demon slayers were to follow. It was strange to think about now, as Aoi reflected in the quiet winter night. She and so many others had fought so long for peace, and now they were to be killed, eradicated same as the demons. The only ones that remained sat in this very room, awaiting their fate. It was their duty, Aoi supposed. After all, why should they get to live when so many others had already died? That was what she tried to tell herself anyway.
The final battle with Muzan Kibutsuji and his army had been bloody and devastating. While plenty of demons had perished, so had many humans. Even Shinobu hadn’t come out of the battle unscathed, at least not entirely. While mostly physically unharmed, she had since been unable to use her Insect Breathing ability. No one knew why, though Shinobu herself had confessed she thought it was due to overexerting herself and overestimating her own strength. Because of this, Shinobu had willingly accepted the fate that the government had determined for the remaining members of the corps. Aoi hadn’t understood how her sister could accept it so readily, and still it confused her, but she didn’t question it. After all, Shinobu did have her own terms before she would agree completely - the servants and those who never trained nor saw battle directly were to be spared. Aoi supposed that was a bit of a silver lining.
There was also the matter of their execution. Aoi suppressed a shudder at the thought of the word. It was so final, so gruesome, but she cast another glance at her poised and peaceful oldest sister and composed herself. As long as it went properly, she thought to herself, that was all that mattered.
“Aoi,” Shinobu’s quiet voice made Aoi jump, the first time any of them had spoken in what had to be hours by now. “You should get some rest. You look tired.”
But why? I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead. Aoi didn’t voice her thought, instead shaking her head. “I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a nice night, I’d rather stay up a little longer and enjoy it.”
“It is.” Shinobu agreed, her gaze never breaking from the view of the calm night outside.
Aoi supposed she would never know her sister’s true thoughts on the matter, or how she really felt. She was used to that with Kanao, but Shinobu was a different matter. Aoi watched her, wondering what was going through her head as she absorbed the rays of the half moon.
She didn’t mean to fall asleep, she didn’t even recall doing so, but the next thing she knew she was being roused by Shinobu’s hand on her shoulder. Aoi looked up into her sister’s weary gaze, Shinobu offering her a small smile.
“Let’s go, Aoi. It’s time to get ready.”
Aoi took a deep breath and nodded, taking Shinobu’s hand to help herself stand before following her out to their waiting servants. The morning sun greeted them warmly, and Aoi raised her head to the sky as she and her sisters followed to the waiting preparation area. Their baths had already been prepared, their outfits laid out for them neatly on a table in the corner. Aoi eyed the pieces of cloth, clean and pure white, and hummed a tiny sound of approval. All she asked was for everything to be proper and go according to plan.
They bathed in silence, aside from a little giggle from Kanao when Shinobu dumped water over her head to help her rinse her hair. Afterward, they allowed the servants to dry them with towels and then help them into their attire. Aoi wriggled against the clothing, looking down at herself. The top was fitted tightly around her chest, barely more than a strip of cloth meant to cover her appropriately. The pants were loose and comfortable, more suited for someone of lower class, and nothing she would ever wear aside from the upcoming ceremony. She glanced at Kanao and Shinobu in their matching outfits; all the time they had spent together and she had never seen them wear anything of the sort. Despite the simplicity of the attire, they looked lovely, as Aoi thought they should.
They emerged from the bathhouse back into the waiting sunlight, Aoi blinking against the sudden change. A man awaited them, dressed in monotone ceremonial attire, his face covered by a white cloth with only a slit for his eyes. Wordlessly, he held up a cut of rope, and Aoi and the others knew what to do. They crossed their wrists behind their backs as the man moved behind them, slowly and carefully securing pieces of rope around their wrists. Aoi suppressed a flinch when he tugged to make sure it was tight enough, and indeed it was, the itchy hemp irritating her skin as it dug in.
He then tugged them into a single file line; Shinobu, Kanao, then Aoi, who kept her eyes forward, fixated on the back of Kanao’s head. Then, they walked.
A somber drumbeat sounded from ahead, picking up tempo as a bamboo flute joined in. Aoi felt goosebumps prickle her flesh at the sounds. She didn’t let her gaze waver, nor her resolve. This was as they had wanted it.
The execution site was arranged just as they had requested. A row of elders on the outer edge of the area awaited solemnly to act as witnesses. Three crisp white sheets lay neatly on the ground for Aoi and her sisters to be wrapped in after the act was complete, side by side, to later be burned on a pyre after dark. In the center of it all set a recently carved chopping block of solid oak wood; behind it stood the tall, looming executioner, his hand placed readily on the hilt of his sword.
The reality set in for Aoi then and she caught herself before her weakening knees made her stumble to the ground. The three of them stopped in unison and lined up side by side. As soon as they stood still, so did the music, replaced with a deafening silence and an eerie wind that began to blow from the south.
“Kochou Shinobu.” The executioner’s voice broke through the silence, making the hair on the back of Aoi’s neck stand on end. Their final request had been just this; no speeches, no theater, just quick and to the point. There was no beauty in war, and even less in death, and the three of them had wanted this to be no different.
After a dutiful nod, Shinobu approached the block, standing before the executioner and then turning to face her sisters. Her gaze met Aoi’s, and the younger took in the sight of her one final time. Proud and beautiful, the breeze moving her hair ever so slightly. Aoi’s eyes fell to Shinobu’s exposed stomach and the butterfly jewel that hung from her navel. Out of habit, Aoi went to reach for her own, but couldn’t. For a brief moment, she had forgotten her hands were bound.
She looked down, staring at her own pale belly, at the sunlight glinting off the dangling jewel, and a shudder escaped her lips.
“Don’t be such a baby Aoi, it’ll only hurt for second.” Shinobu’s words echoed in her mind as she remembered the day she lay flat on her back on a table in the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu standing over her with a hot needle ready to press to her exposed flesh. 
“Aoi,” Shinobu’s voice again, only this time it wasn’t in Aoi’s memories. Aoi lifted her head, stilling her quivering lips, to see Shinobu was now on her knees with her head laid sideways on the block. Their eyes met, and Shinobu offered her familiar smile one last time. “Don’t worry Aoi, it’s not going to hurt.”
Aoi steeled herself, straightening her shoulders, her gaze never breaking from Shinobu’s even as the sound of the executioner’s blade rang through the air. It happened in a heartbeat, Aoi watching first the blood that pooled onto the chopping block and then her sister’s head rolling several feet away. Her stomach twisted and turned as Shinobu’s head came to a stop, facing her, the light gone from her eyes but her lips still fixed in a smile that now sent chills up Aoi’s spine.
Kanao let out a small sound of shock, barely more than a squeak in her throat, then went silent.
Aoi watched the executioner wipe the blood from his blade and resheath it before tending to Shinobu. He grabbed a fistful of her hair to lift up her head and carried it to one of the sheets, laying it down and then retrieving her body. He placed it as close to her head as he could, before closing her eyes with his fingers and laying his hand on her forehead, muttering a quiet prayer. Then he stood tall and straight before returning to the chopping block, facing the remaining two sisters and laying his hand yet again dutifully on the hilt of his blade.
“Tsuyuri Kanao.” He called out sternly.
Aoi suppressed a gasp as she felt Kanao’s shoulder bump hers, and the younger’s hands followed. Kanao had stretched so that her handed touched Aoi’s, and Aoi felt a warm piece of metal slip between her palms.
For the first time since their fates had been decided, Aoi felt the sting of tears that she blinked away as soon as it came.
“A navel piercing, really?” Aoi shook her head. “Shinobu comes up with the craziest ideas. Are you going to go through with it?”
With a mischievous smile, Kanao tossed her coin into the air, watching with an impatient gaze as it fell back into her palm. Raising her head, she met Aoi’s gaze and nodded with a hint of excitement gleaming in her eyes.
Aoi fought the memory away, forcing her gaze forward. Kanao had already made her way to the block to await her turn, small and frail looking next to the looming executioner. The charm in her navel dazzled in the sun against her pale stomach, the butterfly moving slightly in the breeze and then coming to a stop as the trees did. Aoi watched her sister kneel, wordlessly laying her head on the wood that was still stained with their eldest sister’s blood.
As the executioner unsheathed his blade and poised it over Kanao’s neck, Aoi squeezed the coin. It dug harshly into her skin as the blade connected with Kanao’s neck, blood silently spilling out across the already stained wood, and Aoi watched her head roll even further than Shinobu’s had, again coming to a stop to face her, and again Aoi steeled herself as the life faded from Kanao’s gaze.
Aoi couldn’t stop her racing heart, no matter how hard she tried. As the executioner treated Kanao’s remains the same as he had Shinobu’s, all Aoi could think was this was it, that these were her final moments, that she was the final Demon Slayer left to be erased. More than that, she was the last of the three of them, the last of the sisters of the Butterfly Mansion.
“Kanzaki Aoi.”
For a split second, her knees locked up and she felt as though taking a step forward was impossible, like there were stone blocks strapped to her ankles. She cast a glance at the bodies of her sisters and her feet seemed to move on their own. If Shinobu and Kanao could do this, then so could she. She had to. It was her final duty to her country and to her family.
The chopping block seemed kilometers away, yet Aoi was taking her place in front of it before she knew it. She had no one to look to, no one to wish her goodbye with a final gaze, so instead, she looked to herself. As she dropped to her knees, she glanced down at the butterfly hanging from her navel, remembering Shinobu’s insistence when she came up with the idea for them, her especially teasing demeanor about Aoi’s uncertainty over a navel piercing of all things. Over time, Aoi had remained unsure of the piercing; now she knew, if she had a treasured possession, it would be this simple jewel.
She laid her head on the block, warm blood from her sisters wetting her cheek, but she had no desire to cry. A strange sense of calm had overcome her. She felt no fear, no sadness. She felt nothing. Not even the blade when it met her neck. Not even the ground as her head rolled across it. Certainly not the pull of her hair as the executioner lifted her head from the bloodstained dirt. For a moment she wondered how she could be so high up as she watched her body slump to the ground like a ragdoll from her childhood.
Then she was moving, floating through the air to where her sister’s awaited her.
“You were right, Shinobu,” Aoi thought as she grew closer to her eldest sister’s body, her final gaze finding the butterfly still secured in Shinobu’s navel, now stained red with her own blood. “It didn’t hurt.”
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Title: Decay Word Count: 6,923 Tags: NSFW | body horror, rapid aging, weight gain Warnings: Tagged NSFW for extreme aging and weight gain in a horror setting. Commission: Yes
When Tifa awoke that morning, she felt as though she had spent the last 48 hours on a drinking bender at Seventh Heaven. However, that definitely wasn’t the case. Since the rest of Avalanche was preoccupied with their own tasks and missions, she had taken it upon herself to investigate a newly operational Shinra laboratory outpost that had popped up east of the slums in the last few weeks. Barrett had told her to leave it alone until he made it back and could accompany her on a recon mission or at least send Jessie with her, but Tifa was impatient and lately had gotten the feeling that she wasn’t doing as much for Avalanche as she could - or should - be doing.
So she had closed the bar early, made sure her gloves were secure on her fists in case she had to engage in combat, and headed down the back alleys of the slums leading to the lab. Looking back on it now, maybe she should have been warier of the fact there was only one guard on the outside, allowing her quick and easy access to the facility. Maybe she should have turned back as soon as she made it inside without raising any alarms. Maybe she should have left before inspecting the strange assortment of unfamiliar materia that had awaited her in the first (unguarded) room she stumbled upon.
She went over the day in her head as she dragged herself from her bed, her stiff joints popping and clicking as she stood. She hadn’t gotten into any fights that would explain why she felt so heavy and run down; could she be getting sick?
Tifa reached up to press her palm against her forehead to check for fever as she reached the sink, glancing at herself in the mirror and letting out an audible gasp that was loud even to her own ears. The reflection staring back at her was not her own. It couldn’t be. She traced her fingers down the side of her face, poking at her sagging cheeks and pallid skin. It had to be a nightmare, she thought. She was still asleep and this was a horrible nightmare. There was no way the reflection belonged to her. She was young - she was pretty - and the woman staring back at her was … not. Maybe me in another thirty years, she thought. She pinched the flesh of her sagging cheek tight enough to hurt, hoping to snap herself out of what had to be a dream, but she didn’t wake up. There was no waking up. This was reality.
Her chest heaved as her breath started to come in quick, short bursts. The air felt thick around her as she struggled to figure out what could possibly be happening to her.
The Shinra lab… She frowned. No, she hadn’t gotten into a fight, but she had nosily inspected the strange materia she had discovered, an ochre orb that had glowed menacingly as she approached it. She never touched it directly, but it was the only thing she could think of that might possibly explain her current situation. She needed to get back to the lab.
With the flash of a plan in her mind, she momentarily forget her predicament and turned swiftly to get dressed and take action, only for her to groan in pain at the sudden movement. She hurt all the way to her joints, and she wondered if she really would feel this way once she reached the age that she thought she appeared. As she rushed as best to could to get dressed, it dawned on her that her clothes were well beyond ill-suited for her body in its current state. She was barely able to squeeze her sagging breasts into her usual tank top, and her bulging stomach spilled over the top of her skirt. It was uncomfortable for sure, but it was her only option and she felt like it would be alright until she got everything figured out. She returned to her bed and sat down, cringing at the bedsprings that creaked loudly beneath her newly added weight, and leaned over to pull on her boots. As she shifted, a gentle brrp sound made her look down at her legs, her thighs now overlapping, to see a tear in her stockings.
“Damn it,” she muttered with a sigh. There was no use getting a fresh pair, as she knew they would most likely end up in the same shape. “I’ll just have to deal with it.”
Tifa secured her boots, albeit uncomfortably around her now chubby feet, and stood up from the bed. She considered her gloves, but for some reason, her hands were already aching and she decided against them. She didn’t plan on engaging in combat anyway, she was only looking for answers. Crossing the room, she pulled back the curtain to peek out her window. It was still dark out; the sun wouldn’t be rising for another hour and a half at least, which meant her neighbors would still be sound asleep and the darkness would provide her with the much-needed cover she needed to sneak back into the Shinra lab without being spotted. After inhaling deeply in order to steady her nerves - and catch her breath - she quietly opened the door and headed out into the dark morning.
She began to retrace the path she took the day before; the alleyways and hidden shortcuts of the Sector 7 slums. The first time she had followed the route it had only taken her about twenty minutes. Now, she was struggling to keep a steady pace and she had barely even made it past Seventh Heaven. However, she managed to overcome the urge to stop for breaks, afraid that if she didn’t find a solution, her condition would only get worse. If there is a solution, she thought worriedly before shaking her head. She couldn’t afford to think that way. She needed to focus on fixing herself.
By the time the Shinra lab came into her view, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. It’s taken me over an hour? By that point, she was gasping for breath, and ducked behind an abandoned shed near the outer fence that surrounded the lab to take a quick rest. A pang shot through her chest as she tried to suck in as much air as she could. With the beginning rays of the morning sun helping to light her surroundings, she glanced down at herself and gasped. Her gloveless hands looked wrinkled and frail in the rising dawn, and worst of all, her stomach had grown bigger since she had left, swollen and beginning to hang low over the waistband of her skirt. It was no wonder she could barely catch her breath - she was worsening with every second.
Focus, she reminded herself. With one more deep breath, she did her best to steel herself before poking her head around the corner of the shed, narrowing her eyes. She spotted only one guard, just like before, and moved to repeat the steps that had gotten her into the lab the first time. Duck into an alcove, wait for the guard to turn his back, and then dart past him while avoiding the surrounding perimeter alarms that revealed themselves as faint wavering red lights near the ground. Easy - or at least, it had been at first. Now, she was beginning to doubt herself.
As if on cue, a jolt of pain shot through her knee and she let out a cry before she could stop herself, collapsing against the chainlink fence as the pain began to subside.
“Who’s there?!”
Damn. She turned around, gripping the fence to help guide herself back to the alcove before the guard had time to spot her. It was only a few steps away, and her knee popped with every movement, but it was getting better. She just needed to move a little faster –
“Stop right there!”
The flashlight beam swept over her, making it impossible for her to avoid complete detection, and before she could prepare herself to retaliate, the butt of the guard’s gun smashed between her shoulder blades, sending her to her knees with a dull throbbing pain now blossoming through her entire backside. Mustering every ounce of strength she could, Tifa staggered up on one foot and attempted a side sweep with her other leg, only to end up falling backwards on the ground.
“Oh what the–?” The guard stumbled back, arching an eyebrow at the sight before him.
“Is that a monster?” Another voice called out, and Tifa winced as a second guard approached and let out a sound of disgust at the sight of her.
“It’s a woman, but holy hell, she may as well be a monster!” Guard #1 groaned.
Tifa frowned, grunting as she struggled to get to her feet. Determined and angered by their comments, she raised her fists in a fighting stance once she was standing - only for Guard #2 to bust out in chortling laughter.
“She thinks she can take us!” Guard #2 stuttered through laughter.
Guard #1 snickered. “You think she’s gonna try to eat us?”
“Maybe she thought there was a giant kitchen inside here and that’s why she was sneaking around!”
Laughter overtook them both, causing Tifa’s anger to swell. With a balled-up fist, she raised her arm high and charged toward them, having momentarily forgotten why she was there in the first place. She stumbled forward, crashing down to her knees yet again, and the guards doubled over with laughter at the sight.
She knew they wouldn’t let her escape, and there was a chance that whatever scientists inside the laboratory would get one look at her and keep her for experiments regarding the materia that had caused her condition. She knew she needed to act fast while there were only two guards before their laughter managed to capture the attention of anyone else who might be out patrolling.
Tifa braced herself and with a grunt of effort, rose to her feet. A few more seconds to catch her breath and then she threw herself at the guard closest to her, tackling him to the ground and in turn, the guard who was standing beside him, sending the gun he held flying from his hands.
“Get he–!” The first guard began to shout, but Tifa managed to plant her elbow right in his face, her newly fattened arm providing the weight needed to throw him into a state of pained shock. While the second guard stumbled to retrieve his dropped gun, she managed to retrieve the gun from the first guard’s loosened grip and, with her last ounce of stamina, swung it at the second guard’s face, feeling an ounce of hope at the sickening crack sound that emanated.
With both guards down for the count for an unknown amount of time, Tifa moved as fast as she could - rolling off of the first guard, she crawled to the fence, gripping the chainlink and using it to hoist herself back to her feet. She kept one hand on the fence for support as she clambered away from the scene of the fight, her chest burning with every strained breath she took. It seemed like hours passed before she finally reached the passage she sought that would lead her to the first of many back alleys to take her back to the slums. Her body begged her to stop and rest, but she didn’t want to risk the chance of Shinra catching up to her, despite the aching pains in her bones and joints as she continued on her way. She just wanted to be able to breathe again without hurting and quench her nagging thirst with as much water as she could stand.
If - when - she got this taken care of, she would definitely be treating herself to some of the better libations stashed away at Seventh Heaven.
Tifa smiled softly at the thought, a fleeting moment of happiness that disappeared as quickly as it came when she finally stumbled out into the center of the slums. She had been so preoccupied, it hadn’t even dawned on her that the sun was well in the sky. Mornings in the slums were always busy and hectic, which meant people were everywhere.
She tried not to think about it once she spotted a familiar blue bench and moved as fast as she could towards it, sitting down to rest. Her chest still hurt, but her breaths seemed to be coming a bit easier now that she had slowed down. At least now she could both rest and figure out what her next step would be. If she couldn’t get into the laboratory herself, then what else could she do? Barrett wouldn’t be back for days, and Biggs, Jessie, and Wedge were all on different missions and she hadn’t been able to get in contact with them since they’d left. Barrett would be her best bet if she wanted to rely on help, but the truth was, she didn’t know if she had enough time to wait. As quickly as she had already seemed to age, it wasn’t a chance she was willing to take.
“Mommy! Mommy! What is that!?”
Tifa raised her gaze at the sound of the small child’s voice, her face twisting in horror as she realized she was the target of the cries. The little boy was pointing at her, a combination of fear and disgust etched on his face as his mother rushed to collect him.
“Don’t point! And don’t—don’t look,” the mother muttered, casting a glance at Tifa with a very audible scoff.
The child’s cries had managed to draw a small crowd, most of which had no problem pointing, questioning, and outright mocking her.
“I’ve never seen a whale on land before!” “Honey, I think you need to go up a few sizes!” “Really makes you miss the Honeybee Inn, don’t it?” “Don’t get too close, I bet she smells as bad as she looks!”
Tifa looked down at herself, finding that even she was disgusted by her appearance. Had she gotten…bigger? It was enough to make her want to cry, though she knew that wouldn’t help the situation, but it was terrifying. Her stomach was spilling out into her lap, her thighs overlapped almost painfully, rips and runs torn in her tights from top to bottom. Even her breasts had grown bigger, which only made them sag even more, flopping down onto her extended stomach and making her appear as nothing more than a blob. No wonder that Shinra guard asked if I was a monster, she thought, I look just like one.
There was a clothing store nearby, she remembered, hyperaware of not only how she appeared but how uncomfortable it was becoming. Sadly, she wasn’t sure they would even have clothes big enough for her - especially if she was going to keep getting bigger.
No, there was no time for that, she decided. Clothes could wait. Damn her comfort, damn her embarrassment; she needed to solve this, once and for all.
Breaking back into the lab when she did had been a bust, but it had been a long shot to begin with. After all, she didn’t even know if there was a cure for this - but surely there had to be? After all, materia effects were never meant to be permanent, but since plenty of time had passed for this to wear off on its own, there had to be a way to manually reverse it.
Time…, she thought. Aside from Haste sometimes used in a dire situation with Avalanche, she had little experience with Time materia, but considering her rapidly aging body, that had to be what this classified as. Considering that, she wondered if there was a chance she could find anything in the public archives. She considered finding someone to ask but decided against it. She wasn’t in any shape to be approaching anyone, not after the way they treated her like a circus act earlier. She was on her own, and that was that. She would head to the public archives and figure it out from there, which seemed to be the theme of her day.
Her decision made, she suppressed her grunts as best as she could as she hoisted herself up off the bench and, ignoring the stares and murmurs from the people that filled the area, began her slow and almost painful trek through the narrow streets that would take her to the train station. She pretended not to notice the people who were practically throwing themselves out of the way of her, as if she was the carrier of a deadly contagious disease. She was met with more stares, more murmurs, and more loud exclamations of shock. She told herself it didn’t matter, that hopefully, it would all be over soon.
Tifa wasn’t surprised to find the train station packed, as was normal for that time of day. Usually, people were far too engrossed in their own lives and schedules to pay anyone else much attention, but naturally, she was the exception in her current state. As she approached the platform, stifling her pained grunts from the strain of simply walking, she became painfully aware of the chafing on her inner thighs, which combined with the growing aches in her knees, made walking all the more torturous. Trying her best to ignore it, she made her way to the train doors and, much to her dismay, found she had to turn to the side to make her way inside - and even that took effort. People were staring, she could feel their disdainful gazes, but she put aside the hurt she felt and focused on her mission. Waddling through the packed train, she found an empty seat with what she hoped was enough space to fit her steadily widening bottom.
She claimed her seat with a sigh of relief, adjusting herself as best she could. Though it felt good to get off her feet, the rolls on her thighs were pinched against the seat, and her spread hips were wide enough now that they hung over the edge. She squirmed and tried to situate herself to get more comfortable, but it seemed every way she tried only made it worse. Exhaling in defeat, she focused on staying upright and in as little pain as possible as she waited for the train to depart.
Soon after, the loudspeakers that ran through the train came to life with the conductor's voice letting the passengers know they would now be en route. Tifa’s stop was one of the first ones on the schedule, so she hoped it wouldn’t take very long. The fact she was running out of breath just from keeping herself situated correctly in a train seat let her know that she was worsening rapidly. Above all else, she was starting to get a headache, a tightening pain that began to throb behind her eyes, forcing her to shut them in hopes that avoiding the bright sunlight coming through the train windows would help put a stop to it. She was surprised she hadn’t developed one sooner, considering the stress weighing down on her both mentally and physically.
It took about fifteen minutes for the train to arrive at her stop, though due to her constant discomfort, it felt much longer. Though she was dreading the pain of walking, Tifa was relieved to stand from the small seat, gently rubbing her backside and hips where the seat had been digging into the now flabby flesh there. Ignoring the stares from the remaining passengers, she made her to the exit, wincing as she turned sideways to fit through the doors, and then inhaled the fresh air outside, a nice change compared to the stifling air of the train. The public archives was a two-story building approximately two blocks away from the train station, and she steeled herself against her exhaustion and began the trek.
It took her an embarrassing amount of time to reach her destination on foot, chest heaving uncomfortably as she ascended the stone steps leading into the building. How could such a simple task leave her so winded? It was another sign of how fast she was changing, and it furthered her resolve to dive into research and get it straightened out for good.
Once inside, Tifa avoided the gaze of the woman working at the front desk before she could ask if any assistance was needed. Tifa was familiar enough with the layout that she knew materia archives were located in the back left corner, thankfully on the first floor. While the archives were mostly digital these days, there was still plenty of information that had yet to be transferred over, so she commandeered an available shelving cart and, with an effort that left her breathless, loaded it up with as much materia information as she could and then claimed an available computer terminal. She was thankful there was no one else in the area as she went to sit down and realized she was quite literally having to squeeze herself into the computer chair. The cushion beneath her seemingly exhaled in pain as her plump bottom flattened it, and the chair arms dug so deeply into the thick flesh of her hips that her eyes watered. It doesn’t matter, she thought to herself. Just focus.
Before starting on the physical texts, she chose to start on the computer to see what the digital archives held. Waking the computer from sleep, she narrowed her eyes at the home screen, squinting as she fought to make out what she was looking at. She could make out colors, and what she assumed was a search bar, but the words on the screen were nothing more than blurs to her. She leaned forward until her nose was almost touching the screen and only then could she make out the filters and search options she had to choose from. Then, she carefully typed.
First, she tried out “time materia” and found nothing but information on Haste, which was the opposite of her problem. She continued trying different variations of the search before settling on simply “materia” which opened up an entire can of worms, one she wasn’t sure she would make it through before it was too late. However, she knew she had to try.
Having to stay so close to the screen put an intense strain on her already aching back, and made her eyes burn, her headache from earlier already intensifying thanks to her blurred and unfocused vision. As she clicked through document after document, struggling to read as carefully as she could while still making good time, she could feel her eyes growing increasingly heavy. It was as if the fear and stress of the day had suddenly hit her at once, and she felt weighed down in more ways than one.
As she scrolled through yet another document, the burning of her eyes became too much and she closed them against the brightness of the screen. Just for a second, she told herself, reveling in the relief she felt as a small bit of tension eased behind her eyes. For the first time since that morning, and despite the pain of the chair squeezing her lower half, she found herself able to relax.
“Ma’am? Excuse me, m-ma’am?”
Tifa let out a startled gasp as she lifted her head in confusion, blinking rapidly. “Oh I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking up into the face of the woman she had seen earlier at the front desk. “I must have dozed off.”
“I’ll say,” the woman cleared her throat nervously, obviously trying not to visibly react to Tifa’s condition. “I’m afraid we’re getting ready to close, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so we can lock up.” “Closing?” Tifa stuttered. “It’s already that late?”
“8PM, yes,” the woman replied apologetically. “I’ll give you time to rouse yourself, and don’t worry about these! I’ll take care of them.” She grabbed the handle of the cart carrying the research materials Tifa had gathered earlier and wheeled it away, leaving Tifa in a stunned state.
Tifa had no idea how she had managed to sleep so long, or even fall asleep at all, but it seemed yet another plan had fallen completely through. She moved to stand, grateful that the woman had her back turned when Tifa realized she had to painfully pry the chair from around her hips, and began to make her way to the exit. She had completely wasted this chance and was running out of both time and options. As she staggered out of the building and made her way back to the train station, she noted that it was taking her even longer, her breath shortening even faster. She stopped beside the terminal, waiting to board the train back to the slums, and caught sight of herself in the sleek siding of the train car. She had only grown bigger, breasts sagging heavily over her stomach that now hung even more over the waist of her skirt, her tights ripped to shreds around the thick rolls of her thighs. Her age was showing worse now as well, tendrils of grey hair mixed in with the black, which had lost its normal healthy sheen. She barely recognized her own face from the sagging, the wrinkles, and the dark, unhealthy circles beneath her eyes.
Numbly, she boarded the train and found a seat, settling back into the familiar discomfort from earlier. Panic was setting in now. She had exhausted all her options and wasted almost an entire day. Judging from how she looked now, she might not have another day left. Her thoughts raced as she struggled to come up with something - anything - she could do or try, but it seemed her only option was to revisit her original plan; try and get back into the lab where this had all started. At this point, she was sure she would be dead within 24 hours no matter what - so she would break back into the lab, or die trying.
The slums had settled down by the time she made her way back, so she managed to avoid any more ridiculing or teasing as she began traversing the back alleys yet again. This time, stopping for breaks was unavoidable, and by the time the lab was within her view, her lungs burned so badly it made her eyes water. Carrying so much extra weight on a rapidly aged and weakened body was beginning to take its toll, but she tried to remember that was her sole reason for pushing herself to the limit in the first place.
The cover of night, while useful, was also a detriment now thanks to her worsening vision. She squinted in the darkness, using the spotlight atop the laboratory as a sort of guide. From what she could tell, there was only one guard outside, and he sat leaning against the outer fence, possibly asleep. They had deemed her so little of a threat, they hadn’t even bothered to call for extra security. She supposed she would take the blow to her self-esteem, since it meant she might have an inkling of a chance now.
She walked as carefully as she could towards the lab, the gravel beneath her feet crunching loudly thanks to her extra weight whereas she usually would be able to cross it without a sound. She tried to pick up the pace, but it only made her breathing more haggard and raspy. Once she reached the fence opening, she held her breath, struggling to make her way toward the lab entrance without being spotted.
“Is someone there?” The guard called out suddenly, causing Tifa’s heart to race. “This is a Shinra-owned and operated facility, unless you have clearance, I have the authorization to shoot upon trespassers!”
Risking a glance over her shoulder, Tifa saw through the chainlink that the guard was facing away from her as he shouted. He had heard her, but couldn’t tell which direction the sounds had come from. Grateful, Tifa ignored the aching of her knees and feet and pushed herself forward with painful grunts, moving as fast as she physically could toward the lab entrance. Entering in the code she had used the first time, she was relieved to find they hadn’t bothered to change it, and as soon as the doors wooshed open, she waddled through and quickly hit the button to close them. Inside the lab, she was hit with a blast of cool air that felt like heaven against her sweat-sticky skin but she didn’t take the time to enjoy it as she mentally mapped out the route she had taken the previous day. She remembered there had been a room marked “Research” near the room where she had found the strange materia, and she set out to make her way there, wheezing with every step.
There seemed to be a lack of guards in general, and she took the risk of slowing down, unsure she could even move any faster if she wanted to. Her knees threatened to buckle at every step, and she found herself leaning against the wall as she explored, relying on the structure to help guide her weight where she wanted to go. Her hands clung to the sleek wall as best as they could, slipping every so often and nearly sending her careening to the floor. She was tempted to crawl but worried that would only make her legs and back hurt even worse. Besides, if she ended up on the floor, she feared she might not make it back up again.
She reached the room that appeared to be for research and busted through the door, more than happy to see it was unoccupied. It was smaller than she expected, but with a computer terminal and stacks of folders and notepads, she knew the answer she was looking for had to be within these walls.
Tifa waddled over to the desk, trying the computer first in the hopes that it had a search feature. Her vision blurred as her gaze swept over the screen, but it didn’t matter as the computer was both passcode and fingerprint locked. Cursing silently, she began furiously digging through files, reading over notes, looking for any mentions of materia, time, or age. Some notes were handwritten, some were printed, but all of them were hard to read even beneath the bright white lights. She leaned against the desk for support as she continued her search, ignoring the way it creaked across the floor once met with her weight. She wanted so badly to sit down and considered maybe it was for the best. Maybe she could focus better, she thought, until she flipped to a particular page in a folder that caught her attention.
“Research Log #4453-B: Effects of Experimental Materia, “Decay”
The effects of the materia we’ve dubbed as “Decay” are going as intended. Subject was exposed to the materia at approximately 08:00. At 06:30 the following morning, subject began to show symptoms of the experimental Decay effect. Subject awoke with more weight as well as signs of aging on their facial features (wrinkles around the eyes and sagging cheeks.) By 1300, subject had grown exponentially and complained of shortness of breath and increasing pain in their back, knees, and ankles. By 23:00, subject was unable to breathe on their own and was put on a standard ventilator. By 00:00, subject was deceased.
While this proves the materia does indeed work, it seems to move at a slower pace than we originally intended. Before we work on correcting it for a more rapid use, we intend on testing out the Rejuvenate materia designed in succession with Decay as a means of undoing the effects in case of accidental exposure or activation.”
Beneath the typeface, Tifa noticed a handwritten note scribbled furiously in red, and she squinted harder to make out the messy penmanship.
“Rejuvenate is located in Storage Room B, opposite where Decay is kept, for future reference whenever an incompetent employee decides to go making a fool of themselves with our life’s work!”
Rejuvenate. The word floated through Tifa’s head dreamily as relief washed over her. There was a cure, she could save herself, and just in time if the progress study was any indication of how much time she would have left after exposure. Tossing the file down, she turned and waddled out of the room, the hope she felt helping to quicken her weary pace.
“Stop right there!”
“Son of a bitch,” Tifa muttered as she looked ahead. From the end of the hall, a Shinra guard was moving towards her, and fast. He wasn’t holding a gun, but a modified pistol rested in a holster on his hip, and his hand was already moving towards it. As he approached, Tifa took a breath deep enough to send a sharp pain shooting through her chest, and with every bit of strength and force she could muster, she propelled herself towards the guard as he closed in on her. They both toppled to the ground, her weight proving effective against knocking the wind out of him. Judging by the loud crack she heard, she assumed she had managed to cause damage to his helmet and hopefully his head as well. He let out a loud groan as he connected to the floor, slurring out what she thought was an order for her to cease, confirming that she had indeed managed to injure him.
She needed another deep breath as she rolled herself off of him, dragging herself across the floor. Her fear from earlier was proving to be true as she wasn’t sure how the hell she was going to get back to her feet. The pain from being on her knees was so great, that all she wanted to do was roll over onto her back and rest, but she knew that was not an option, especially now that she was so close to putting this all behind her once and for all.
“Backup…” She heard the guard muttering slowly. “East Hallway…intruder…”
No time, Tifa thought, dragging herself further along. Crying out in pain as she sat up on her knees, she managed to hoist herself up to her feet, stumbling as she did but thankfully falling against the wall for support yet again. She used it to ease her way along, trying to tell herself there was more time than she knew was realistically possible.
The first door she reached was labeled Storage Room A, which meant the next one had to be her destination, and she nearly burst into tears in relief she reached it and found that it was. Throwing the door open, she bust inside and was faced with a wall of materia, each one a different shade, some she recognized but most she didn’t. Much to her relief, they were all labeled. Quickly assuming they were organized alphabetically, she waddled over close to the end and leaned in as close as she safely could to read the names.
Rejuvenation. The word was like a beacon to her. Tifa quickly grabbed the orb, grasping it tightly, watching in awe as it glowed a pretty shade of auburn and then faded away. She replaced it in its holder and looked at her hands, frowning. They were still grey and brittle, wrinkled like she had been soaking in the bath for far too long. Did it not work? She thought, defeated.
“You again?”
Tifa sluggishly turned around, coming face to face with a guard and his gun. The guard, upon seeing her, groaned and let out a chortle of a laugh.
“I can’t believe it,” he shook his head. “You’re about as dumb as you are ugly. I can’t believe you managed to make your way back in here. And holy hell, you look even worse than you did before!”
“You’re the guard from this morning,” Tifa muttered, more to herself than to him. She couldn’t believe it had to be the same heartless jerk she had already had to deal with once. At this point, she was sure her demise was inevitable, but that didn’t mean she had to go down without a fight. She slid her feet apart slightly, careful not to fall, and raised her chubby arms as she balled her weakened hands into fists.
The guard laughed mockingly. “Aw man, you’re gonna try to fight me? Go for it, this’ll be fun,” he approached her then, easily dodging the poorly thrown punch she aimed at him. In retaliation, he reached out and stabbed her protruding gut with the butt of his gun, causing her to cry out in pain. “Good one, tubby, wanna try again?”
She grunted loudly as she threw another punch, one that caused her to go off balance and nearly sent her to her knees.
“Nice, sludge pile, keep it up,” the guard this time chose to aim the butt of his gut at her thick right leg, laughing as the rolls jiggled. “You know, I would just shoot you and put you out of your misery, but I would almost feel bad about it. Besides, you’re giving me a good laugh.”
Doubled over in pain, Tifa once again made a fist and aimed it upwards, hoping to catch the guard beneath his chin. While he managed to dodge it, it was just barely, as she was able to move faster this time around. Though her breathing was still somewhat shallow, she noticed that the pain in her chest was lessening, and her vision was becoming much more clear.
“Oh damn, are you getting the hang of it piggy?” The guard chuckled. “That was pretty good, but not quite enough.”
Time, Tifa realized. It was time-based materia. It took time for it to affect her negatively, so it made sense for the opposite materia to need time to affect her positively. She stood back, allowing her breathing to even out, her fists itching to start swinging as she felt her strength returning.
“You giving up already?” The guard asked. “We’re just starting to have fun!” He raised his arms in a mocking stance of defiance, and Tifa chose to strike, propelling herself towards him and landing a punch directly to his face, knocking his helmet askew. He cried out in shock and stumbled backward, and Tifa let loose on him. She knocked the gun from his stunned hands, then proceeded to grab his wrist, pulling him into an arm lock that sent him to his knees. He attempted a leg sweep to try and knock her off her feet, but with her returned agility, she was able to time a jump that made him miss and left him defenseless on his rear. She could feel his arm threatening to break beneath her hold, and as he reached up in one last attempt to fight back, she used her other arm to nail him right in the face with her elbow. It was a final blow, one that bloodied his nose and left him slumped over on the floor, unconscious.
Tifa was breathless now, but for a much different reason than before. She looked down at herself, seeing that her stomach was smaller now, her thighs returning back to their healthy size. Her breasts, which earlier were so heavy and painful they had begun to rub her raw, were returning to normal. Her hands as well were young and pretty again, and she was, funny enough, pleased to find she hadn’t even broken a nail throughout this whole ordeal.
Wiping her hands on her stretched and torn skirt, Tifa stepped over the slumped-over guard and made her way out of the room, and headed towards the exit. She would revel in relief when she was clear of the lab. Once she made it outside, she saw that there was no guard outside now, and she assumed the guard she had taken out was the backup the first guard had called for. For the first time in over twenty-four hours, she laughed. She was free.
She broke into a run towards the fence exit and headed once more down the back alleyways, though she had to hold her now ruined skirt up to keep from exposing herself to the night. Her shirt, too, was stretched out beyond saving, but she didn’t care. She had extras at home, and she would be glad to throw these away as long as she never had to go through something like this again.
Barrett and the guys are gonna get a kick out of this, she thought as she basked in the fresh night air. Although, she could already hear him chiding her for taking it upon herself to break into the lab in the first place, and would probably assign Biggs to keep an eye on her for a month afterward.
No, she decided, maybe it was best she kept it to herself. She would just have to warn them about a dangerous new materia she overheard someone else talking about. As long as she went to sleep as herself and woke up as herself, she would be more than happy to take today’s adventure with her to the grave.
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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Fandom: Pokemon | Legends of Arceus Title: Good Morning Word Count: 762 Tags: SFW | fluff, domestic, reader insert Warnings: None Commission: Yes
e began to hum softly while rocking you gently from side to side. “Did you sleep well?”
“You were by my side, weren’t you?” Volo asked cheekily, making you blush. “Naturally, I slept like a baby.”
“You’re too much,” you laughed.
“Or am I just enough?” He moved from behind you to press a quick kiss to your lips, flashing you a flirty smile. “Is there anything I can do to help, love?”
“Hmmm,” you murmured in thought. “Could you make some tea? I forgot before I started cooking.”
Volo gasped dramatically. “My beautiful wife hasn’t had her morning tea yet? That won’t do!”
You rolled your eyes again in fake annoyance, but truth be told, you wouldn’t have him any other way. Why else would you have married him? Some might think he went out of his way to make you laugh and feel loved, but the truth was, it was just how he was and how he manifested his love for you.
As you began heating up the pan for eggs, Volo whistled while putting on water to boil, then set out your matching mugs and retrieved your favorite tea. There were several different kinds in the cabinet, but he never had to ask what you preferred in the morning. He had all those little details about you memorized, and it was just one of the many things you loved about him.
“That smells amazing,” Volo commented as he walked over to where you stood at the stove, handing your tea to you while simultaneously taking the spatula from your hand. “I’ll finish these, you sit and drink your tea.”
“Excuse me, but I wanted to cook breakfast for you,” you huffed playfully, causing him to smirk.
“Well I’m sorry but I’ll simply have to take matters into my own hands. I could never consider myself a good husband if I let you do all this for me before you’ve had your first cup of the day.” He winked.
“I hate to say it Volo my love but you’re not a good husband,” you smirked at him over the rim of your mug. “You’re an amazing husband.”
He leaned forward to steal another quick kiss before nudging you gently with his hip, urging you to go and sit down, which you promptly did. You watched him as he finished cooking, a wistful smile on your face as you sipped your tea. You had known married couples who fell out of love over time or simply grew bored with their partners, but you knew with all your heart that would never be the case with you and Volo. Your love for him was far too great; in fact, you knew you could say without a doubt that you loved him more now than you ever had. The best part was you knew for a fact that Volo felt the same way about you.
You snapped out of your reverie as Volo set two plates of delicious-smelling eggs on the table, next to the cutlery you had already placed earlier.
“Thank you, love,” you told him with a smile when a sudden thought occurred to you. “Oh! Should I make some toast? Or maybe some pancakes…will eggs be enough, do you think? We do have a busy day today.”
Volo laid a hand on your shoulder, leaning down to gaze sweetly into your eyes. “Darling, if I can be honest, you alone is all I need to make it through any day for the rest of my life.”
You couldn’t even pretend to roll your eyes this time, your smile quickly smothered by his lips on yours.
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starkaft3rdark · 1 year
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List of canon things I write for
Anime
Assassination Classroom
Attack on Titan
Black Butler
Bleach
Blue Lock
Demon Slayer
Dragon Ball Z
Fire Force
Food Wars
Haikyuu!
Hunter x Hunter
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (Parts 1-6)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Kuroko no Basket
My Hero Academia
One Punch Man
Pokemon
Seven Deadly Sins
Sonic X
Soul Eater
Tokyo Ghoul
Tokyo Revengers
Yu Yu Hakusho
 
Coming Soon
Black Clover ● Bungou Stray Dogs
Video Games
Final Fantasy VII + XII + XV
Five Night's At Freddy's
God of War
Grand Theft Auto V
Pokemon
Super Smash Bros.
Resident Evil
Silent Hill
Stardew Valley
 
Coming Soon
Danganronpa ● Spyro The Dragon ● Undertale
Other Series
CW's Arrowverse (Arrow ● The Flash ● DC's Legends of Tomorrow ● Supergirl)
Game of Thrones (House of the Dragon coming soon)
Hannibal
Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rick & Morty
Stargate SG-1 + Stargate Atlantis
Stranger Things
Teen Titans
Young Justice
K-Pop
ATEEZ
BTS
Cravity
Enhypen
EXO (OT12)
Monsta X (OT7)
NCT (OT23 / ALL units)
The Boyz (OT12)
TXT
Seventeen
Stray Kids (OT9)
Verivery
VIXX (OT6)
WannaOne + offshoot groups (CIX ● Ab6ix)
 
Blackpink
Billlie
Dreamcatcher
fromis_9
Itzy
IZ*ONE + offshoot groups (IVE ● LE SSERAFIM)
Loona
Red Velvet
Twice
Please note: If you're looking to commission for other K-Pop idols, please feel free to ask me about them! Just because they're not on this particular list doesn't mean I won't write for them as I do "stan" over 100+ groups and solo artists, both male and female.
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