Nao Ichijo staggered toward a flickering bus stop. Barely 18, his dreams of U.A. Hero Academy had been crushed like a cigarette underfoot. His quirk—a spark of electricity that came from his fingertips could paralyze with a touch, locking muscles in a painless grip. But it demanded skin-to-skin contact, useless against the robot hunting examination of U.A.'s entrance exam. He lacked flexibility and ranged, and was thus dismissed without a second glance.
"Fuck…" he hissed, kicking a crumpled red can that ran across the pavement. "What the hell do I tell Dad?" His voice growled, stress tightening his chest.
His blonde hair, so pale it shimmered near silver, and his face both sharp and delicate. Black eyes gleamed beneath furrowed brows. His slender frame—petite, with just a hint of muscle—strained against the black shirt and slacks clinging to his sweat-damp skin. The faint reek of whiskey clung to him, his unsteady gait betraying a night of drowning his sorrows. A throbbing headache pulsed behind his eyes, each step a reminder of his overindulgence.
(Character portrait in this comment section)
"Shit… finally," he muttered, spotting a bus pulling up, its engine purring. The driver's silhouette loomed behind the tinted windshield, and the windows—tinted black—showed only vague shadows.
He climbed aboard, the doors hissing shut behind him. Dropping his bag, he slumped into a cracked vinyl seat, the stale air inside heavy with something sour. A faint squeak jolted him, and his gaze darted downward.
"Fuck!" Nao yelped, lurching to his feet. A rat, beady eyes glinting, scurried beneath the seat. Nao's head spun, and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the seat's edge. "What kinda shitty bus is this?"
Before he could process the thought, a slick, cold sensation clamped over his mouth. Slimy, viscous liquid oozed across his lips, gagging him. He clawed at it, fingers slipping uselessly against the gelatinous mass. Panic surged as the same slimy tendrils snaked around his wrists and ankles, binding him in a lewd, clinging embrace. His chest heaved, but the slime surged into his throat, flooding his airways. His vision blurred, eyes rolling back as darkness swallowed him.
Nao Hito, 18 years old. Dead.
---
[Candidate found… host established… forming link…]
[Link formed! Host is in need of medical attention… host is dead.]
[Flushing airways… prolonging airways… sustaining life… attempting resuscitation…]
[Resuscitation successful.]
[Wake up, asshole.]
"HOLY FUCK!" Nao gasped, choking as he retched a flood of translucent green slime from his throat. Tears streamed down his face, his body trembling as he collapsed onto the filthy ground. "What… what the fuck?" he croaked, voice raw and ragged.
His vision swam, a black haze slowly giving way to the contours of an alleyway—or was it? The world felt wrong, warped. A harsh voice cut through the ringing in his ears. "Hey, fucker. Look, you kept one alive." Nao's head lolled toward the sound, catching the outline of a small figure—a man. "Must be one of those quirks that lets ya cling to life. Dunno," another voice sneered, closer now.
[Greetings, host! I am the System, an artificial intelligence crafted from the sadistic remnants of a dead god—not from this universe, mind you. Want a full list of my features?] A screen popped up infront of Nao.
"Who are you…?" Nao groaned, barely able to string words together. His body felt like it had been run through a meat grinder.
[I just told you, fucking retard. Would you like a list of my features?]
Nao ignored it, his blurry gaze locking onto the mutant looming over him. "Why… why'd you try to kill me?" he rasped, struggling to his feet. His legs wobbled, threatening to give out.
[Hey, you ignoring me? An all-powerful god at your doorstep, and you're chatting up a lowlife criminal? Fine, let's spice this shit up.]
[Activating World Class: Appearance Boost…
- Masculine face (A) → Feminine face (C)
- Masculine shoulders (A) → Feminine shoulders (C)
- Toned arms (B) → Petite arms (A)
- Toned legs (C) → Slender legs (C)
- Toned ass (B) → Round ass (C)
- Click to view more... ]
A jolt of electric heat surged through Nao's body, ripping a soft, involuntary moan from his lips. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, ass hitting the ground with a humiliating thud. His skin tingled, hypersensitive, every nerve alight with a strange, shameful warmth. "Fuckin'…" he whimpered, voice higher, softer—almost melodic.
"Hey, fucker, Look at the kid—he's barely scratched!" He paused, head tilting as his gaze raked over Nao's body. "Uh… you sure you grabbed a dude?" he asked, stepping closer, boots scuffing the dirt.
"What do you mean, 'sure'? Of course I grabbed a dude—" The mutant turned, his words dying mid-sentence. His jaw slackened. "Huh. Dying must've killed all the man outta him."
"What the fuck are you on about?" Nao croaked, his voice a pathetic rasp. His legs gave out again, and he fell forward, face smacking the dirt as his round ass jutted upward, vulnerable and exposed. The mutant snickered.
"Hey, boss?" the mutant drawled, licking his lips. "Mind giving him to me? Ya sold all the girls already, and I ain't had a good fuck in weeks." His voice dripped with lust, eyes locked on Nao's trembling form.
The man groaned, waving a dismissive hand. "Take him for a few hours, then gut him. I ain't wasting merchandise on your sorry ass." He stalked off, leaving Nao alone with the leering mutant.
"F-Fuck! Somebody help!" Nao screamed, his voice cracking as strength seeped back into his limbs. He scrambled to crawl away, but the mutant's slimy hand clamped around his ankle, yanking him back.
[For fuck's sake—]
***SMACK!*** An invisible force landed across Nao's cheek, leaving a stinging warmth that oddly stirred something deep in his gut. The mutant froze, confused, as Nao's flushed face—now undeniably pretty—twitched. The kind of face you'd make when you find out you were pregnant.
[GOOD MORNING, USER! Wanna hear what this System can do? Features:
Appearance optimization
Quirk amplification
Supernatural enhancements
Follower system
...and a whole lotta other features. Excited yet?]
"No?" Nao mumbled, dazed, his mind struggling to keep up.
[Ok.]
The mutant grabbed Nao's neck, slamming him against the alley wall with a grunt. The air rushed from his lungs as cold, slimy tendrils slithered over his skin, tearing his clothes off in seconds. The slick, gelatinous touch was invasive, crawling under his flesh, chilling and arousing in equal measure. Nao's body twitched, betraying him with a shiver of unwanted pleasure.
"Stop! What the fuck—" His protest was cut off as a thick wad of slime forced its way into his mouth, gagging him. His eyes watered, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks as he thrashed against the bindings. The slime crept lower, probing his exposed ass, pressing against his tight asshole. Panic surged, but his struggles only made the tendrils tighten, their slick surface gliding effortlessly.
With a wet, obscene squelch, the slime formed a thick, phallic shape and thrust inside him. Nao's muffled scream dissolved into a choked moan as the slick intrusion filled him, stretching his insides with a perverse, liquid ease. The slime was soft, almost too soft, its lubricated glide sparking waves of shameful pleasure that melted his resistance. It pumped into him, relentless but eerily gentle, each thrust a slick caress that set his nerves ablaze.
***GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK***
The lewd sounds filled the alley, Nao's body slamming into the wall with each brutal yet painless plunge. His cock, traitorously hard, throbbed against his will, leaking precum onto the floor. His mind frayed, drowning in the overwhelming sensation—the cold, slimy touch, the humiliating fullness, the electric sparks of his own quirk flickering uselessly at his fingertips.
With a final, deep thrust, the slime pulsed inside him, and Nao's body seized. His eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping as he climaxed, ropes of white cum splattering the dirt below. The slime withdrew with a wet pop, leaving him trembling, panting, and utterly broken.
( Aftermath picture in comment section )
"Wh… hah… hu… ah…" Nao gasped, his voice a wrecked whisper, thoughts scattered like ash. The mutant loomed over him.