What Do U Think Texts With Tomura Would Look Like?

Summary: You talk shit to the wrong person on a discussion forum. Idly, you troll one user who’s really into the Paranormal Liberation Front’s new leader, Tomura Shigaraki. You’ve heard he’s being heralded as the Villain of Villains, though you’re not sure that’s a valid title. You decide it’s time to make your opinion known. “Idk if I’d give him that title… lol he’s giving insecure incel.”

Mean!Yandere!Shigaraki x Bimbo!Reader

⚠️ mdni. degradation. incel. misogyny. noncon. oral. panic attacks. shigaraki is a mean dom. slut-shaming. yandere.

Next l

You snicker as you press enter. Admittedly, you don’t know enough about the white-haired criminal to make that judgement call. You’re basing your statement solely on appearance. What can you say? Making ignorant comments is the essence of shitposting. You get to act a fool online because no one will ever discover who you are.

Until the user you mouthed off to replies.

Crumbleking: the fuck do you know?

Crumbleking: and you think a guy like him wouldn’t get women? he has a fucking army you stupid bitch he can have anyone he wants. that’s not insecure.

You roll your eyes, noticing he didn’t address the incel comment.

(Your username): I literally do not give a fuck lol do you want him @ crumbleking? Seeing as you know so much about his personal life and all

Crumbleking: you should be thankful he hasn’t killed you yet

(Your username): I’m not hearing a no

Crumbleking: get fucked

(Your username): Apparently shig is doing enough of that for both of us lmao

Crumbleking: you’re asking for it

You block the user. How many times has some moron threatened you online? Too many. But you take solace in the fact that, just like you, everyone’s simply a keyboard warrior. At the end of the day, it’s not like any of this shit is serious.

Right? :)

Well, a few days after this incident, you login to your social media account and notice a message in your mailbox. You lift a brow. It’s probably a meme from your best friend. You’re surprised to find a notification next to Requests. Someone you aren’t friends with has messaged you.

Hastily, you tap the Requests tab. You don’t know why your heart is pounding, or why you have a horrid feeling about this. Perhaps you’re under too much stress lately, or perhaps your intuition is trying to tell you something — that you’re in danger.

The request is from someone named Shigaraki. You know it can’t be the real villain. You clue in that it’s likely that freak who was defending him on the forum. He must have determined who you are somehow and resorted to messaging you on your private social.

Shigaraki: hello you dumb slut

Shigaraki: remember me?

Yeah, it’s definitely him. You wonder what his goal is, what he wants from you; normal behaviour doesn’t include stalking. You debate on whether or not to reply. You could play dumb or own up to your role. Of course, it’s far easier to do the former.

You: no?

It’s simple and to-the-point. You see him typing back right away. You hold your breath when he stops. Then, the screenshots from the forum come, reminding you of the conversation.

Shigaraki: i know you’re (username).

You resort to the IP tracker on your laptop, figuring you’ll spook him and he’ll leave you alone. You power it up and click eagerly. When you’re halfway through locating him, it’s as though he’s read your mind.

Shigaraki: if you think I’m not using a vpn then you’re stupider than I thought

The panic really sets in now. You’re hyperventilating. The message shoots you into a panic attack — the kind when your throat constricts and your lungs heave stale air. You scratch at your chest and gasp. You feel like you’re dying. You can’t breathe. With quivering fingers, you type a nasty message to him.

You: what the fuck is wrong with you. why the hell do you care what i think this much???? please leave me alone. blocking you.

That’ll end this terror once and for all. Or will it?

Shigaraki: Don’t you fucking dare you whore

His response is nearly instantaneous.

Shigaraki: if you block me I’ll find you irl

Shigaraki: i just showed you how easy it was to find your social media profile

Shigaraki: i’ll fucking find you

Shigaraki: and we’ll see if you feel the same about me when we’re face to face

You can’t stand it. You press the block button and exit the app. You turn off your phone — as if that’ll help — and throw it onto your bed. You shut down your laptop place it gently atop your desk. That’s enough for tonight. You have to remind yourself that the person threatening you is just a persistent troll, that the Tomura Shigaraki would never waste his precious time bantering with a random person on the Internet. You get to bed using that precise logic.

Except you’re wrong.

A few weeks pass, and you make the foolish mistake of thinking you’re safe. You start to throw caution into the wind, glancing over your shoulder less and walking home from work at night. You don’t notice the pale man trailing you. He watches you at work, as you hustle under pressure, and at home, before you close the curtains. He’s seen you naked twice. He assumes you meant to show off your body to an audience, that you like a bit of exhibitionism. Well, he’ll keep that in mind when he extensively plots out your payback.

Finally, one evening, he strikes. You come home from work and close the door. Securing the locks, you don’t see him until it’s too late.

He wraps a hand around your neck, keeping his pinky lifted to prove a point. He could kill you if he wanted. He could turn you to dust and be done with this stupid shit. In truth, he doesn’t know why he let his anger overtake him to the point where he had to find you. The problem is, he can’t stop his pursuit. If you escaped him right now, he would find you again.

And again.

And again, until he’s able to teach you a fucking lesson.

“Thought you could get away from me, huh?” He rasps next to your ear. “I found your social media account. Didn’t think I’d find your address?” He cackles venomously. “Stupid whore.”

You know immediately who you’re being held captive by. It’s the guy you were talking shit to online. It also happens to be Tomura Shigaraki, in the flesh. You realize, at once, that your luck is positively atrocious. Like, honestly, how the fuck did this happen to you? You can’t make sense if the madness.

He drags his knuckles along your cheek, stroking it. You feel his index finger trace the outline of your lips. Instantly, your heart sinks. On cue, he hums.

“I bet these can suck dick better than they talk shit,” he remarks darkly. “Wanna find out?”

You don’t, but he does.

“Take off your jacket, or I’ll crumble it off with the first two layers of your pretty skin.”

He takes away his hand to allow you space. The way you understand it, if five of his fingers make contact with your body, you’ll begin to fall apart. You’ve seen footage of what he’s done to heroes who have defied him. It causes you to wonder why he’s chosen to torture you, of all people.

The answer lies in his discovery of your social media account. Before he saw what you look like, he was content to merely leave you a little scare. Then, he started diving into your life, going through each and every one of your photos. It turns out you’re quite the socialite. You with your friends. You with your family members. You with animals. Food. Music. Video games. With all these posts, he was granted a perfect snapshot of what it is you do. And now, he wants to watch everything you ever loved decay.

“Why the hell are you doing this?” You hiss, daring to make eye contact tact with your stalker. “Don’t you have better things to do, you fucking freak?”

You spit the last two words with as much vitriol as you can muster. He doesn’t miss the effort you pour into your distaste. He rewards you with a callous cackle.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” He cooes, scarred lips contorting into a smile. “We’re on a first name basis, aren’t we?”

You lick your lips. You can’t recollect if you referred to him by name. Everything is a rapid blur.

“Shig.” He prompts you. “You’re the first and only person that’ll call me that.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. You didn’t consider it overstepping at the time because you didn’t think you were interacting with Shigaraki. You can see how it might have been construed as intimate in his eyes, given your casual use of the pseudonym. The least you can do is apologize. It won't save your ass, but perhaps it will urge him to go lighter on you.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeak. "T-to be fair, I—“

“To be fair, I should wrap my hand around your throat and watch you beg me for air as your whole body turns to dust.” He interrupts you venomously. “Take off your fucking jacket.”

You unzip the garment and throw it onto your sofa. Next comes your hat and scarf. You finish his request when you’re in only your sweater, pants, socks, and undergarments. He smirks at the result of your swift labour, drinking in your silhouette. He’s seen enough photos of you outdoors to know what lies beneath the rest. Thirst traps, you’d probably call them. Little did you know they’d be used against you one day.

He removes his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. With a languid thumb, he swipes it to life. He logs into his fake social media account and finds yours. It’s bookmarked as a favourite tab, of course, especially considering how many times he’s used your pics to jerk off. If you only knew how many nights his cock twitched, begging to be sheathed in your soft pussy, you’d probably be petrified.

He grins.

“What were you thinking, posting shit like this?”

He twists the screen around for you to see. It’s a photo of you and your bestie in bikinis. Your hair is wet from spending time in the ocean. You and your friend were vacationing at a beach, and you wanted to look your best. Beside her, your lips are coiled around a lollipop, cheeks hollowed out from sucking on it. A thirst trap? Absolutely. But not for him.

He stares at the image one more time before putting the phone away. His crimson orbs lock with yours. A smirk settles across his lips.

“Get on your knees.”

Your eyelids clamp shut. Wordlessly, you lower yourself to the ground. It feels utterly humiliating. You have no choice but to let him use you. There has to be a way out of this situation, but how? If you’re serious about surviving, you have to cook up an escape route.

Shigaraki nears your submissive form. He wishes he brought something to tie you up. You’d look gorgeous bound for him. Helpless and barely willing is how he likes his lovers.

He wasn’t lying when he told you he gets women. Since establishing the Paranormal Liberation Front, people have been throwing themselves at him. They’re attracted to his power. He doesn’t have an interest in any of them, though; there are better things to do, and more enticing partners to find. You fit the bill quite nicely.

He hovers over you, leering at you with his crotch mere centimetres from your face. His jeans smell like laundry detergent — you didn’t expect that. You guess he’s not as crusty as he seems, with his scraggly hair and raspy voice.

Suddenly, he grasps the back of your head with four fingers and pushes your face against his clothed erection. He grinds it along your cheek, twitching in his underwear, yearning to feel the warmth of your slutty mouth. Soon you’ll serve him, but not yet.

“Look what you do to me,” he groans, lulling his head back. “I’ve been waiting for you to fix this problem. Won’t kill you until I’ve had my fill.”

You shiver. You’ve got to get to fuck out of here. If you can distract him, you can jump out of the window and get help. It’s risky, but you don’t have much of a choice.

He releases you and moves to unzip his pants. Your breath hitches. You don’t want this to extend any longer than it has to — not if you can help it. Who knows when he’ll get bored and murder you? He’s unhinged. The time to act is now.

“Wait,” you mumble. “Sh-shirt.”

Shockingly, he lets up for a moment. You take the opportunity to gesture to the garment you’re wearing. It’s your work uniform. Nothing special. He doesn’t have to know that, though.

“Lemme take this off,” you insist. “P-please. I-I don’t wanna ruin in.”

If you remove your shirt, that’ll leave you in merely a bra and pants. Fortunately for you, Shigaraki isn’t a stupid man when it comes to his own satisfaction. He decides to offer you reprieve. Robotically, he steps back to give you space. He’s seen them from afar; he knows they’ll be impressive up close.

“Hurry up.”

He doesn’t anticipate you being a skillful little idiot.

You roll backwards and stumble to your feet. Bolting towards the window, you’re grateful that he didn’t make you strip completely. The hesitation of humiliation and shame might have prevented you from leaping out from the second floor. It’s with luck that you don’t break anything upon hitting the ground.

Shigaraki lunges for your hair a millisecond too late. He catches himself on the window frame. At the same time, you get to your feet and sprint. By the time he reaches the street, panting and growling with fury, you’ve disappeared; there’s not a trace of you left behind.

He suspects you’re off to alert a local hero or police officer. That’s fine. He doesn’t expect them to believe you, and even if they do, how will they protect you? He can feel his power accumulating; moreover, after the impending procedure that’s set to occur in the coming months, he’ll be unstoppable. He doesn’t mind killing those who get in his way.

Thus, with a heavy huff, he lets you go. You obviously want to play, and he’s a master gamer. He knows you want this just as much as he does. After all, didn’t you grasp that he was serious about finding you as many times as you manage to flee from him — that he’ll keep his pursuit steady until you no longer have the strength to run? You must want to be hunted, like pretty prey reserved only for the best.

You have no idea who you’re fucking with.

This poor man 🥺

oh but can you do good things shigaraki addition??? plez

pairing: yandere!Shigaraki Tomura x darling!reader goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, angst

tip-jar: Kofi

He fears hurting you.

Not in the pretty love bites and itty bitty bruise or two or ten he gives you, but really hurting you.

He might end up giving you some more proper damage every now and again when you fight back or make him hunt you down after escaping, but he doesn’t really enjoy inflicting that sort of pain on you at all.

The thought of actually hurting you haunts him.

He’ll dream about it. Wake up shaking and in tears, wide-eyed and hyperventilating, unable to speak, and itchy like never before. And he’ll be afraid to look, the chills strangling him as he slowly turns to his head to where you ought to be lying. Dreading, with every knot in his gut tightening, the bed is full of dust.

But there you are. Pretty face still pretty on the pillow, adorable soft snores escaping you with a little spill of drool running down the corner of your mouth. And he breaks out into a cold sweat of relief, finally allowed to breathe again. 

Though guilt still haunts him where he lies awake thinking about maybe, just maybe… letting you go.

tip-jar: Kofi

Narilamb part2:

Okay okay, this time its less canon but imagine the lamb opening the bar and narinder take a drink but then is posess(idk how to spell it preperly i'm french sorry). The lamb do his best to find him in dongeon and when he finaly find him punish him from drinking whitch of course frustrate Narinder but hey, he couldn't just let his favorite ex god be posses again and have to kill him !

Come Down to the Black Sea III

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki, graphic depictions of violence, heavy sexual innuendo, implied noncon, foul language, sexual tension you can cut with a knife, and just general sexual grossness. Joking daddy kink also, if you count that. 

PART I, PART II

Here you go! The third installment. Your seafaring friend finds your hot button and decides to plant some lovely ideas in your brain. Listening to them probably is not the smartest idea in regards to keeping your heart beating, but it certainly gets your thighs clenching. 

Taglist: @lemonzoey​, @babayaga67​

You know, it’s really rough to explain to your superiors at work why you’re so distracted when it happens to be because a mythical being is giving you the cold shoulder. 

You’re not entirely certain why it bothers you so much that your last encounter with him ended rather sour. He had made it perfectly plain from the get-go that his intent with you was far from pure. Murderous, in fact. He had almost drowned you on your first meeting and insulted you incessantly during your second. Not exactly a friendly track record. 

Regardless, he’s made a permanent home crawling beneath your human skin, like some itch you can’t scratch away. You can try to justify it however you’d like, but you can’t ignore the truth. In a word full of mundane existence, you’ve found an oddity and as much as you’d like to pretend you aren’t, you’re drawn to it. It’s part of why you returned to the beach despite the clear and present danger. You’d found a living, breathing mermaid. Even more impressive, you’d managed to piss him off.

Mermaid? Is that accurate? He’s so sensitive to being classified wrongly, but still never told you what he was. Considering the circumstances, maybe you should be a little bit more concerned about other things rather than offending him, but it still bothers you. 

Your ignorance isn’t due to lack of trying. You’ve done extensive research in the spare moments you have during the day, but nothing quite matches his description no matter how deeply you delve into the weirder parts of the internet, even going so far as to browse around on conspiracy sites on the darknet. Mermaid? Merman? Siren? Fish-guy? Some distantly related offspring to that Ripley’s Believe it or Not monkey fish? Relentless searching proved fruitless. Plenty of old sun-crazed fishermen claim to have seen merfolk in the waters or sirens on the rocks, but more often than not, it was a walrus or stage 4 sea madness. No one had a legitimate account of meeting with a real, intelligent creature of the deep. Nothing that came remotely close to him, anyway.

Afficher davantage

Dry tears on my cheek

Emptyness in my heart

Its all dark in here,

When it was all soft and warm

The sheets smelling like you, soft like silk

Red eyes watching for one last prayer

My heart singing your name with loyalty

My head light as snow

It all vanish in a new dark room.

Mine.

In the cold bed of an empty room

Me and my momory already blur

It was just a dream.

bro i'm ruining my own chances...like i'm currently studying to be a psychologist (and hopefully a criminologist after 👉👈) but every time soemone tell mz they are intrested i'm like "haha whqt a good joke.."

Then they think i mocked them but i meant it in a "Don't act like you like me then you don't" a'd its always like this TvT i swear i only reamise after

hi heinous 🖤 i'd love to know your filthy thoughts about shigaraki and his kinks/fetishes 🤭 i have thoughts of my own (ahem,, piss kink) but i'd love to know what YOU think 🥰 alr i'm getting shy TOODLES

Hey you. Yeah you. Don’t get all shy now!~

Ahaaaa, Shiggy kinks. You ask the wrong person because I’m going to give some of the most obscure/disgusting answers.

But you did come lookin’ for me~

Piss

Oh my god, it’s clear as day how fucking disgusting this man’s piss is. With zero regard for his dietary needs when he’s still in his gamer-boy era, his piss is likely rancid. Not that he’s ever had the chance to get with anyone consensually, but he’s a quick study when he comes to watching such a demeaning act be performed on his weird kink sites.

The day he does manage to fucking do it, he’s absolutely giddy and making the most obnoxiously cute chuckles about it, which his poor victim date interprets as creepy. It takes him a minute to not be hard as fuck during this, standing over them and making sure he can hook his fingers into their unwilling mouth before pissing his heart out.

Fantasy fulfilled.

Ryona / Whumping

Kinda obscure. Lemme explain: Y’know what a sick fuck like Shigaraki does in his free time Besides sit in front of the computer and play LOL? It’s watch compilations of heroes in tatters.

Clothes ripping, bruises and upper cuts to the face. He’s obviously got no incentive to cheer them on, but my god does it just get him keening to watch some pretty hero be put in their place!~

But the fight clips from YouTube won’t do it for him — oh no, soon enough he’s gotten himself into a filthy rabbit hole where he’s compiling, buying, and selling the depraved medium from the darkest corners of the internet, all so he can watch and partake in kidnapping livestreams of his favorite heroes.

They’re Spat on, stepped on, kicked, and punted till they whimper like animals. Put that in tandem with yanking a cute, femme hero by her hair and ripping away her mask, and he’s busting into his hand shortly after. Yes. the revelation of their identity being exposed, their cries of humiliation through the stuffy speakers, the last of their dignity lost.

When he’s finally in his prime, beefed up and killing heroes, he just can’t help himself from fulfilling another depraved fantasy when he sees a poor, disarmed hero cradling themselves in a corner. Not safe from Tomura Shigaraki.

Worship

Tomura cares little for the affirmation of those he wanted to destroy, conquering and destroying anything that gets in his way. But the absolute last thing he ever imagined was being treated like a king, heralded as the symbol of fear.

Obviously, he’s gonna have fans. Groupies. And worse, willing playthings who’d go above and beyond to kiss the feet and hands of their beloved leader — a beautiful, hatred-riddled god.

He sits poised on a stone throne, boredom evident on his face when he’s approached time and time again by the swarms of adoring followers. They peel back his layers, adorning him in fleurs and delicate dainty trinkets — a complete juxtapose to his chapped demeanor.

The kneeling, the cultic mannerisms… the begging to be used and abused, having women, men and anyone in between plead for him to grace then with helpings his rich cum — breed them. The way his groveling followers do the most humiliating things for him, whatever he asks. Anything.

He eats that shit up, and it gets him living out that power fantasy he’d always wanted.

“So this is what winning a war feels like?”

“Tomura, your royal penis is clean—“

He always did value loyalty and chivalry.

any chance of me being okay with Shigaraki taking up the name 'Shimura Tenko' again has withered, meta-wise. I hate seeing that name in Deku's dialogue bubbles. I hate that he feels he can call Shigaraki that. All he ever cared about was The Crying Child - Tenko. Then he failed to save Tenko. THEN Deku had the gall to expressed disappointment that Tenko - the very source of the kindness and friendship that readers all kept saying is why Shigaraki is still Tenko, why he should be saved, how the League is proof of 'Tenko' still existing! - would stay being leader of the League of Villains. And Deku saying 'Tenko' is supposed to be some sort of win???? Supposed to be touching?????

And I hate that this is probably how All Might and Gran Torino finds out the name of Nana's grandson, because they never bothered to check on the family and never tried to save Shigaraki and All Might tries to comfort Deku by saying 'well how did he look at the moment of his death?' as if that fixes anything, and now they're going to use that name. Never tried to save the boy when he was Shigaraki Tomura. But now they can mourn Shimura Tenko. because that's who deserved to be cared about. The melancholic reminder of a 5-year-old ghost, connected to someone they actually cared about. Not a villain they might have no connection to, god forbid. Why would they ever save an evil rando like that?

I think none of them should ever be allowed to say that name. They don't deserve knowing it.

Game night

My "realistic" (totally not biased) Shigaraki HC's

has extreme touch aversion, but craves it at the same time. it's a never ending cycle of wanting to fuck someone's brains out, but then getting disgusted at someone brushing up against him.

decent hygiene... most of the time. if he's really busy, chances are he probably won't even change his clothes. good luck with handling the dick cheese.

his voice breaks during sex, quite a lot. it makes dirty talk sound silly at first, but he gets the hang of it. if he's receiving head, he won't stop blabbering. he'd say the most vile shit, while his voice would be switching from raspy to comically high-pitched.

pre-experimentation Tomura doesn't have an impressive cock. it's probably average by all means, maybe even thinner than the norm. but post-experimentation though... all of that shit Dr. Garaki did definitely had an effect on his entire body, dick included.

high sex drive, but lazy. he probably wants you to do the work most of the time, unless he has some pent up emotions to release. get ready for the entire LoV to hear your screams by the time Tomura is done with you. he wouldn't even bother undressing you fully, as long as he has a hole to fuck, he doesn't care.

disgustingly perverted without realizing it. if you leave dirty clothes on the bed, he'll sniff them until his dick gets painfully hard. if you're not there to help him out, he'll grab a pair of your used panties to jack off with. never question him about the cum stains, it makes him annoyed.

never. submissive. i can't imagine a single scenario where Tomura would willing give up control and let another person hold all the power over him.

not that kinky. The dom-sub dynamics would always be at play, but bondage and anything else that takes more time and effort, would rarely happen.

hates you touching him randomly, but always has his hands on you in some way. whether it be an innocent pat on the shoulder, or full on groping you when he feels like it, he has to do something with his hands. you're like his fidget toy.

but you cannot do the same. maybe he'll let you get away with it once in a while, but Tomura will shamelessly move your head away if you try to rest it on his shoulder. god forbid that you try to do it while someone else is around.

extremely possessive. he doesn't get jealous, because he believes that everyone is beneath him. you're more like a possession that only belongs to him. and no one is stupid enough to try anything with you. most of the time. if someone gathers the courage to try and flirt with you, Tomura would kill the person on the spot, regardless of their importance. what's his shall never be taken away, and he makes it very clear.