Man. I was going to write more of the Mertarion fic but uh. Uh. I have fleas,. Help they are coming for you too
Summary: Typhus mashes genitals with his perpetual test subject.
Word Count: 1200
Content Warnings: SMUT, needles, captive reader, I'm going to hell for this one, probably stockholm syndrome or something, oh this is FILTHY filthy, death but you're a perpetual so you're fine, tentacles, overstimulation, impact play,
Image Credit: @squishyowl (sorry)
You couldn't die. You'd figured that one out long ago, when he'd first stolen you away, and it wouldn't do you well to repeat that incident, would it? You'd missed your home planet, and the diseases that he'd given you were painful and ugly (to say the least,) but when he'd rewarded you for being such a good girl for him? When those gauntlets traced your bare skin, when his mouth found his way onto yours and you tasted nothing less than the sickening sweetness of overripe fruit?
You'd grown to love him.
You'd heard the shifting of his armor long before he announced his presence. Ceramite ground against defiled ceramite as he slowly sauntered his way in, calling out your name not long after. It sent shivers down your spine, the way he said it. You were stark naked on the ground of your cell, ever bashful about showing your bare skin. It was all the better to study you with.
"Typhus," you choked out, the window of your cell caked in slime and viscera. It wasn't a clean room, not by any stretch of the imagination.
He fumbled with the key to your cell before swinging the door wide open. You didn't think to escape, it wasn't something on your mind. Not now. The needle he carried in his hand was delicate against him, a small glass thing with a clear liquid in it.
"Stand up for me," he barked. "I'm not going to be able to reach you unless you stand."
You stood up. Although his face was obscured by his helmet, you could tell how his eyes were roving the contours of your body. He knelt down, his corroded gauntlet hard against soft flesh as he lined up the needle with your neck with his other hand. You felt tears form in your eyes as he inserted the needle into you. Your arms fell to his shoulders as he gripped your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Even kneeling, he was still taller.
He suddenly released you as he stood up. You keeled over on the ground, grasping at your chest. Typhus chuckled.
"I love how you look when you struggle against me," he said, sitting down on the ground. "So weak, so helpless. Do tell me how you are feeling?"
You keeled over, trying to choke out any semblance of a word as you felt the skin on your neck crystallize. You felt the hardened skin as it spread over the rest of your body, freezing you in place. Your heart froze in your chest, but your brain was still running rapidly, taking in everything for the time being. This wasn't the worst, per se, but it would be nice if you could turn your brain off for a bit.
Typhus stood up, looming over you. "Feeling funny?" he asked. You were still as a statue. There was no blood circulating into your brain, there was no oxygen being delivered. He watched intently as you faded out, slowly but surely. Somewhere along the way he removed his helmet, revealing half of a face. The other half looked withered off, a battered skull remaining. He left his helmet on the ground, absolutely fascinated with watching the disease wreak its havoc.
As soon as you faded away, the crystals on your body began to recede back into your neck before disappearing for good. You inhaled sharply, shivering profusely as he put his corroded gauntlet to the back of your neck.
"I would have died," you muttered, looking away from him.
"You should be used to it by now," he replied. "I almost can't believe someone so fragile would still be around."
"I can't leave," you sighed.
Typhus chuckled. "You're catching on," he said, his other finger brushing your slightly opened lips. "So soft, so fragile. All mine," he said. "Ready for your reward?" He left no time for you to respond, pressing his mouth to yours.
You let out a slight mmph! as you felt his tongue part your lips, tasting yet again of overdue fruit. You relented, wrapping your arms around his neck. Arms and other appendages roamed your body, with a tentacle surrounding your nipple and squeezing.
"Nngh-!" you cried as he bit your bottom lip, chewing lazily. He chuckled into you as one of his tentacles found its way between your legs, rubbing slowly at your apex. His hands were at your bottom, squeezing roughly before one left for a brief moment before he struck you there.
You cried out again, your nude form collapsing in on his rough armor. He chuckled as you regained your composure, hands on his shoulders as he squeezed you and rubbed between your legs.
"Sensitive?" he asked, rubbing the area he struck on you with his hand.
"There's a lot going on--" you whimpered. You grinded on him without thinking to, and he chuckled again.
"Oh, you're so desperate for me, my little lab rat," he said, his voice dry and menacing. "So desperate. I want to hear you say it."
Your voice caught in your throat as you clenched around him. You came on him, hard and wet. The noises coming out of you were incomprehensible at best. He smirked, moving his armored hand so that it cupped your face.
"That's not good enough," he whispered into you. "I want you to tell me how desperate you are."
"I need you," you whimpered softly, "I need you and I don't care-- nngh, how. Gods, I'm so desperate..."
Typhus was already undoing his codpiece. When you were finished, he tackled you to the ground, pinning your wrists down. "That's a good girl," he muttered, grinding on you. "Good girl, my good little lab rat..."
You squealed as he found his way into you, stretching you out further on him. His gaze on you was intense, and his grip was no less so. "Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted as his hips started to buck. "So tight around me, I could break you so many times and you would come back ready for more."
You grabbed for the back of his neck, pulling him down towards you. He smirked, pressing another rough kiss to your lips. His tentacles were still wrapped around you; squeezing your nipples, rubbing your clit, keeping you in place. You shivered before you came again on him, loud and hard. "Typhus..." you murmured against his lips as he pulled away. "Typhus, please, more..."
He bucked his hips harder, sending waves of sensation throughout your body. He grit his teeth, fucking you senseless for what seemed like hours before he finished inside of you, blowing his load into you. You let out a sharp cry as he filled you up. Sticky liquid trickled down your legs, pooling on the floor. Both of you were panting.
Typhus picked you up, guiding you to the corner of the cell before he sat down. He brought you down on him, wrapping his arms around you. "Had your fill?" he asked, running his hands up and down you.
"For now," you said, leaning back into him.
"There will be more," he said, holding you close.
Taglist: @bispecsual@justeverythingnothingelse@bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae@historitor-bookshelf
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I honestly love the clothing styles of each of the turtles in this show and I love how these styles really incorporate their personalities as well.
Like, obviously Donnie has the best sense of style, yeah? Think that’s something pretty agreed upon here. Everything we see him put together is very meticulously crafted and clean. That goes with his personality because Donnie is a very meticulous person in general, and he knows what he likes very, very well, and knows how to flaunt it in turn. Him commenting on colors he enjoys or disapproving of outfits that the others see no problem with also shows how he just generally has an eye for this kind of thing. He doesn’t just know what looks good on himself, but also what looks good on others - and I think this ties into his love of gift giving too. Donnie also has a flair for making sure that his things have his “mark” on them, and his clothing is no exception. All that he wears and how he wears them screams “Donnie.”
Mikey is really fun because his styles are honestly a pendulum between super simplistic and incredibly out there. And often, you’re going to see a lot of color or patterns to both. And in my opinion I think that all reflects really well on Mikey’s character - he’s got a colorful personality but even more than that he’s incredible sure of who he himself is. Mikey’s style, I feel, is less what looks good as clothes and more what sparks joy in Mikey himself. His bright stickers he wears are a testament of that! He’s comfortable in his own skin and his style reflects this perfectly, whether he goes for a more out-there look or a more toned down one.
Now, for Leo. Okay, I think I’m actually in the minority here I feel because Leo’s style isn’t really that bad? Hear me out- if you actually look at what he wears, try taking out, like, one accessory. Suddenly, that outfit works! He even manages to put together many good outfits in the series, but his “bad” ones are the ones that tend to stand out, alas (just like how his mistakes tend to be big ones oop-) Basically, my personal look at him is not that he’s inept at styling at all, but that he has a “too much” gene. And like everyone else, this sense of style is completely like him, too. Going too far to impress when all he needed to do was slow it down some to think things through. (And funnily enough, a lot of his outfits take random aspects from his brothers too - “nothing without them” huh?)
For Raph, I feel bad for him since pretty much all of his clothes are inevitably going to be ripped, but he makes them work pretty much each time. Like Leo, Raph tends to go more sporty with his looks, but I also noticed that his stuff often goes in that in between of comfy, cool, and cute. His pajama suit in particular comes to mind in terms of “cute” as it’s more something you’d see younger children in rather than older kids, and I think it can be a subtle nod to the fact that for all Raph tries to seem older, he’s still just a kid too.
I could probably go on, but these are just all off the top of my head - I love how the boys’ personality’s come out in so many different ways.
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im having more fem Danyal thoughts. But specifically I've been thinking about Dani in this au. Now, Fem Danyal is just the alt. version of Danny to my other DAG au, which means she follows that lore. that being said. Danyal and Dani already had a pretty rocky introduction in the first place, ANd if we follow canon's setup, Dani in fem!Danyal's world would be a boy rather than a girl. I'm gonna call him Ali for easier difference (my train of thought was Daniel -> Eli -> Ali). While Danny may resemble Talia more than Bruce, Danny and Damian still look very similar to each other. Their blood relation is unquestionable.
You can imagine how fem Danyal might feel, walking into her room one day after school, and finding a little boy on her bed who looks, at first glance, like the little brother she loves to death. If meeting Ellie triggered Kill Bill Sirens in Danny's head, meeting Ali bass boosted them. For a terrifying, fleeting moment, Danny thinks Damian is right there. That somehow, her clever, intelligent little brother found out she was alive and tracked her down.
She slams the door shut, completely at a loss for words. Her heart has nearly stopped a second time. Then she realizes: this boy's eyes are blue. Not green. He looks too old to be her brother. His jawline too narrow, his hair too messy. As he talks, his voice is not the same as the sparse few videos on the internet showing Damian speaking. This is not the child she helped take his first steps with, nor the child she watched utter his first words. This is not the boy whom she taught to pick up a sword; this is not her brother.
Safe to say, Ali gets a knife pulled on him much, much faster than his female counterpart did. He lives, fortunately, but their relationship is unsteady and rocky even after Ali betrays Vlad and joins Danny.
Danny is unsettled by him, not for being her clone -- although that plays a minor part -- but because every time he drifts into her peripherals, she keeps thinking it's Damian. And it spooks her half out of her mind. She gets her hopes up at the same time her heart drops, then she turns her head, and it's not Damian; it's Dani.
It's also why she won't call him 'Dani', it's one letter too close to 'Dami' and she's afraid she'll call him that if she's not careful. So when he brings it up jokingly, she immediately shoots it down; "I'll call you Eli." instead. (Ali thinks she's boring -- he thought 'danny with a y' and 'dani with an i' was funny. Frankly, so did Danny, but she's too uncomfortable with the idea of calling him Dani.)
When he asks her why, she lies and says it's to prevent confusion. When their relationship is better, "Eli" eventually becomes "Ali".
("Why Ali?" he'll ask her, with an ear pressed against her ribs while Danny coils one of his curls around her finger. She's steadily become more and more affectionate; Danny has the impeccable ability of making it seem so forced and stiff and natural at the same time.)
("Do you not like it?" She'll ask him, voice stilted and unsure. She's got her heart in her throat, but she's starting to stop seeing Damian whenever she looks down. "We can keep it Eli if you'd like.")
("No, no. I like it. Just... why Ali? Does it mean anything?")
(Danny will smooth her palm over Ali's forehead, scratching his hairline with her nails, and feel embarrassed. She'll be silent until he looks up at her, and then she clears her throat. "It means eminent; exalted; noble.")
(Ali stares at her in dead silence, long enough that she starts to grow worried. Then tears bubble up in his eyes, and for a moment Danny thinks she said something wrong. "I lied;" he croaks, "I love it.")
(She will hesitate, and then wipe the tears off with her thumbs. "Ali al Ghul," she'll mutter, "but that name is for you and I only. To the world, you're Ali Fenton." Perhaps she shouldn't be giving him her mother's last name, but he is of her blood now too.)
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ohh zs faerie au... changeling sanji who later discovers he's a gancanagh (a faerie commonly described as having a silver tongue and can charm flowers into blooming at night. a sweet-talker who can convince anyone of anything—even kill another for them, if so bid.) he hides this with foul language and exaggerated, embarrassing acts after an Incident at the baratie where he accidentally charmed a poor woman so greatly she froze to death in the cold waiting for him outside the restaurant doors in the dead of winter.
zeff still sees him as his son, and he'll be damned if anyone says otherwise. even when sanji hides in the shadows and within himself, zeff whacks him upside the head and reminds him that no matter what—this is his home. he is family. that'll never change. of course, this is said with a lot of grumbling and cursing and shoving, but the message gets through well enough.
income zoro — a phooka (a faerie known for both its trouble-making personality and the way it can change shape) long lost from his home in the woods nearby. he'd taken to the shadows more often than not: slinking by as a stray cat or scampering away as a fox. there'd been a pull even since the moon started filling to its peak with the steady thrum of an oncoming revel. it's strong. it's a challenge. and that has always been the one thing zoro can't back down from.
only for it to come in the form of a cook behind a restaurant, glamour running rampant over him like a false skin.
obviously they get on like wildfire. they fight. they ruin the place around them. where zoro lacks in speed, sanji has in numbers, and where sanji lacks in brute strength, zoro makes up for it easily. they're equally matched, and it's—fun. they're both grinning by the end of it, bloody and split-lipped, and it might be the moon and it might be the revel, but something clicks and zoro is suddenly, inexplicably, asking sanji to meet the head of his court—the one who'll be high king.
and sanji, for those same inexplicable reasons, says yes.
(little do either of them know sanji's one of a few heirs to a court himself, and of a court vying for the throne. that four-leafed clovers can peel away even the strongest of glamour if there's enough. that one night dancing underneath a hill of oak and yew until they are both cackling with glee and flush with food and wine will feel like a promise of eternity.)
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I think that there’s a fundamental misunderstanding of what exactly is…happening with Izuku’s character. Specifically in regards to chapter 425.
I’m glad that a lot more people generally recognize that Izuku is not a character that can be read at a surface level, given that he’s both a repressed person with built up emotion of basically everything and also a very glaringly HUGELY unreliable narrator, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with the ways I’ve seen this most recent chapter spoken about.
I see posts, comments, etc with ideas like “Izuku don’t suppress your emotions! Open up with people! It’ll be okay I promise!” When that’s fundamentally not what is happening here.
There’s always always ALWAYS been a distinct difference in character throughout horikoshi’s writing when he is showing that a character is:
A—Avoiding emotions, thoughts, ideas less than ideal for them. Not opening up when they probably should about their problems given that they’ve been handed the space to do so. Just genuinely not acknowledging, feeling, or expressing emotions that they don’t want.
B—Reflecting on the ways they feel about the world, themselves, or other people given their new perspective on a situation. Not outright reaching out to others to talk about these problems/feelings, but instead waiting until the moment they feel they have the most confidence to do so with their new outlook on their own life.
And genuinely, guys, to grab your BkDk attention rn, this is the exact reason why Ochako’s reflection on her feelings for Izuku and thereafter decision to pull away from them WAS NEVER GOING TO END IN OCHAKO EXPLODING WITH HER LOVE FOR HIM.
This was another common interpretation I saw of Ochako and Izuocha for a long time. That because she pushed these feelings away, they were somehow going to explode in this unbelievable way and she would “get the boy” because of it. That her arc would surround accepting her romantic feelings and that she can’t just push away how she feels for a career.
But yk. That didn’t happen. At all. Nowhere close even.
The same kind of goes for Katsuki, allmight, etc. They all had moments in their arc where it was spent genuinely reflecting, and the only reason we as the audience never connected it in the same ways we do ochako or Izuku was ALWAYS BECAUSE the narrative showed their inner thoughts while doing so (mostly because Allmight’s arc after losing OFA and Katsuki’s arc on what it means to be a hero were so intrinsically tied, both starting at the same time and ending at the same time during the final war. And because they were so tied this caused their own reflections, development, and thought process to be broadcasted to us frequently throughout their arcs… to each other. They also somewhat shared aspects with Izuku, but these were cherry picked more often than not, like dvk2 for example).
To us Katsuki never seemed to be.. idk, suppressing his anger in any way because we were always told what he was doing and why (side note: this is why I’ve always thought arguments against Katsuki were so weird, bc unlike characters like endeavor or Ochako he wasn’t like… hiding who he was and how he was changing. Ever. Like the audience knows at all times past basically season 3 what Katsuki is thinking and doing. Like how do you watch this happen, stare me dead in the eye, and tell me how much of a terrible and awful teenage boy he is. Like damn I didn’t think we were this dumb. This is also my theory as to why he’s most popular, his arc is very… in your face if that makes sense). Katsuki’s entire mini arc on reflecting his mistakes and his childhood and his future is spent TELLING YOU that it’s what he’s doing. (I’m referring mostly to the endeavor internship arc, the provisional license exam makeup, and basically everything in the war arc related to him leading up to bakugou Katsuki rising here)
And see, Horikoshi will stare you dead in the eye, tell you “this girl has taken into consideration that she doesn’t want to waste her time training her career focusing on a boy because he kinda caught her fancy”, and y’all will still say that this will explode in her face.
Y’all this is a series about learning how to manage emotions, maturity in relationship to one’s emotions, how to feel an emotion, but in a way that is helpful. Horikoshi isn’t telling you “go buck wild, feel everything all the time and always express it”, in fact he explores why you DONT do that! Through Toga or Shigaraki, they show how grief and anger can genuinely consume you. But he also shows why you shouldn’t just put everything in a box to never look at or acknowledge, or why you shouldn’t just let your grief destroy the world around you, or pretending that some emotions simply don’t exist.
I can’t say this enough, so let me say it now, mha is about the extremes of your psyche. That you should control something, but not too much. Everything can be harmful. Everything can be good.
Izuku is not controlling too much, he’s expressing just enough.
I LOVE shaming this dickhead at all times in all my posts. I love saying he’s an ignorant dipshit with a weird amount of distaste for a girl who just confessed to him. I’ve joked that chapter 348 is basically an entire chapter spent on Izuku calling Himiko a mean dyke. And yet I also believe he’s doing nothing WRONG here.
In fact, I’ll even say that this moment right here?
ISNT EVEN IZUKU DOING THE SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE THING ABOUT IT! But he’s still TRYING to reach out to someone he thinks MIGHT be able to understand. (And frankly, this moment is far deeper than what it’s being made out to be, to me it reads more like an unrequited friendship that Izuku both desires and has thought of them to have, while simultaneously showing the distance Ochako has successfully wedged between them for her own sake. Maybe it was always there though, maybe in weird, miscommunicated Horikoshi fashion, this is a representation of how Ochako always read all those “fun friend hangouts” as a little more than that, and without those feelings the friendship never really held any substance to her in the first place. Where Izuku saw his first real friend at UA, she saw little more than acquaintance)
Simultaneously, Izuku is genuinely reflecting on what it means for the world to change, to be a hero, to live after loss—and trying and failing to gain the connection he desires from individuals who can not and will not afford him that.
Izuku is ready for the world to change, a few select characters are also ready for the world to change (mirio, for example), but not nearly enough are. So maybe I’ll have to take this back if I’m proven wrong and I accidentally looked into this far past what everyone else did for no reason, but I genuinely believe with moments like this
And this
Aand this
That Izuku has come forward with that aspect of his character development. He’s reflecting on his new beliefs, not repressing his emotions for them.
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