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tainted-wine · 4 years

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Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:

I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.

This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.

Words: 20k+

You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.

Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science

——–x——–

Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them.

The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.

And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.

You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.

“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”

Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.

The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.

The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.

These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.

That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat.

Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.

The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”

You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”

The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”

The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.

Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”

You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.

Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.

You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”

He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.

x---x---x---x---x

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

x---x---x---x---x

Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”

His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.

He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.

A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.

“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.

A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.

You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.

“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.

The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.

His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.

The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”

He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.

A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.

But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.

You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.

‘Sorry.’

He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.

You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.

The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.

You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.

The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.

He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.

“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”

He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.

Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.

His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.

He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.

You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?

“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”

He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.

But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.

One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

x---x---x---x---x

When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.

Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.

Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”

He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?

All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”

His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”

Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.

Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”

You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.

He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”

You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.

His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.

His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”

And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?

Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?

With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?

Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.

“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.

Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”

Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.

After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.

Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.

“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.

Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.

“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.

“St…aay.”

You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.

He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”

You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.

Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?

To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.

That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.

The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.

And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.

Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.

There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”

His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.

It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.

The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.

They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.

“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.

His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.

Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.

“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.

“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”

“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”

The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”

Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.

Kill it.

He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.

Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.

The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.

Ah, so they can both heal.

It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.

His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.

The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.

His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.

So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.

“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.

“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”

Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape.

But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.

A sad display, indeed.

“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!”

The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.

The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded.

The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”

“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”

“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”

So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”

The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

x---x---x---x---x

Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today.

That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright?

The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.

“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.

Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”

His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”

He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.

“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.

Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine.

It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.

You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.

Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating.

Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.

“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily.

The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”

Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.

He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”

What?

“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.

His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”

Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.

It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.

“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.

Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.

You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”

You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?

Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?”

He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.

You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”

Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”

The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”

He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.

Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.

Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers.

“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.

“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.

A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”

His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.

The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly.

With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…

When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…

‘Don’t do that.’

Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.

‘You’re sick.’

But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?

When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?

A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.

It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.

You snap out of it before that can happen.

Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.

And you fucking enjoyed it.

You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.

“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.

The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.

What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.

And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.

Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...

You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?

So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.

The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.

They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.

“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”

Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.

A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”

“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”

Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony.

He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning?

Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.

“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.”

They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.

The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.

“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”

The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.

One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.

The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:

Blue flames are to be feared.

He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.

Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”

“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.

“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.

“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”

“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”

The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.”

They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.

“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.

But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver.

He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel.

He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.

“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”

‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.

Raptor hates it here.

x---x---x---x---x

There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.

He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.

“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way.

“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.

His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.

“Don’t...go.”

His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”

He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding.

You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?

Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.

“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress.

His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”

You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.

“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”

And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.

He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”

With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday?

Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.

“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”

He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.

“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”

To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor.

It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?

“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”

When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.

You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.

Remember, shame is useless here.

He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.

Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.

At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.

“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.

The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.

“Calm.”

It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.

“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?”

He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.

The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste.

His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.

But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.

“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?

He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.

With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.

The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.

“Good.”

He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room.

When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.

His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.

A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.

You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.

“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you.

It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.

The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.

When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.

Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.

He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.

He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.

Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement. “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.”

Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.

The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.

Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.

You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.

“Hawks.”

The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.

Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.

Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.

You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.

This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.

You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”

The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”

“I said stop thinking!” Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.

But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about.

“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”

He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.

“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”

“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”

You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.

“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”

x---x---x---x---x

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing.

Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating.

Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?

“No more questions.”

Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.

Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.

You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.

So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does.

So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there.

He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.

“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him.

The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.

“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”

There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.

Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.

He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.

“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”

Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.

But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?

She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.

He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.

For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.

“Kill her, Raptor.”

“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.”

Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.

The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.

The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.

Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.

His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.

His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.

He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.

Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.

He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.

Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.

One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”

“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said.

Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her.

“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”

Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.

An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”

“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”

Anger.

“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”

Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”

Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.

How dare they.

The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.

And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”

She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ‘magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.

Raptor wants to get out of here.

x---x---x---x---x

You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.

That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.

It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.

The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.

You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion.

The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.

Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.

He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.”

Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.

He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”

He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”

A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with.

“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”

You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”

He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”

Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.

There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.

“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.

You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”

If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”

“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”

A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”

He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect.

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”

“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.

“Let’s help each other forget.”

And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.

He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.

Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.

It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there.

And it makes your walls clench.

You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.

Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”

He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.

He was laughing.

The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him.

He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?

Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.

“Want more?”

The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…

“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”

His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.

“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!” You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.

Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”

“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”

Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up.

Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.

As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.

Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”

He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”

Goddamn him.

You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.

There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.

Good.

“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.

“Inside?”

Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.

He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance.

You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.

The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.

But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.

He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.

“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.

The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.

He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.

You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”

Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning.

It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.

You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack. All you can do is reap what you sow and take it.

This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more.

Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside.

His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”

It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”

The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward.

Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you.

His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.

Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.

The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.

He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.

So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.

If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm.

Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition.

Just use me.

Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.

Just use me however the fuck you want.

Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.

His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….

Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.

Exhaustion…

Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb

Warmth...full...sleep.

x---x---x---x---x

“Get up.”

The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.

“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”

You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.

The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.

And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.

His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.

He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”

Oh shit.

“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.

“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”

His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.

“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”

If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.

But any sort of shame?

You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.

The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”

He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”

You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.

You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.

“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.

That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.

You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.

“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.

As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.

The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”

What?

Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.

When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”

No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den.

The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk.

“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”

He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.

Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.

“What. The. Fuck?” Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”

The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-

“Calm.”

A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.

“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.

“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-

Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.

Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.

He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”

Once again, you’re not sure what to say to that.

He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”

Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.

“I want to leave.”

“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!”

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”

The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.

Well then…

“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”

His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.

He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.

Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself.

“Ready?”

Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth.

Breath in. Breathe out.

A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open.

x---x---x---x---x

Targets first spotted at 12:50

The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.

Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.

Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.

The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED. NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.

Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.

I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.

But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.

#Hawks #smut #nomu #noumu #terato #monster fucking #hawks x reader #shh the doctors don't know about shirakumo #happy october?#tw blood #tw death

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

Text

School Prize Night

(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)

Part 1 - Through my eyes

07/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,531

Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for

Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.

A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.

And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.

Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.

“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“

His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.

With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”

He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.

“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.

“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.

“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”

And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“

“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.

“No, you’re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”

For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.

“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”

Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—

Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Of course I do.”

“Then close your eyes.”

And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”

His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.

“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.

But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.

“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.

She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.

“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.

“And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”

She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.

“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.

“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”

“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.

“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”

“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.

“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”

And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”

Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.

“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”

And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.

“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”

She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.

“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.

“So you keep telling me, Hen.”

“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”

Part 2

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @littlewrenofrivia @greensleeves888 @babypink224221 @lharrietg @diegos-butt @made-of-stars03 @sassy-pelican @marantha @jadert15 @legendarywizarddetective @mis-lil-red @memoriesat30 @irishprincess89 @honiebee @440mxs-wife

#teacher!henry cavill x reader #teacher!henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #teacher au #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill rpf #good night mr cavill

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Leviathan's Odyssey 5:

God

*Mammon is happily about to break into Lucifer's study yet again when he hears the sound of banging metal and high-pitched shrieking coming from the kitchen... Knowing what the likely source, he swallows his reluctance in order to go check on what's happening*

*Beel is in the kitchen when he runs in, having narrowly dodged the flying butcher knife that lodges into the wall next to his ear… Little Satan is strapped into a high chair, wailing at the top of his lungs and banging his fists against a nearby countertop*

Mammon: BEEL!! What the hell is goin’ on in here!? Weren’t ya in charge of feedin’ him??

Satan: DIE!!!! DIE!! Diedie!!!

*a frying pan appears to float off of its hook and goes flying towards Mammon’s face but Beel manages to grab its handle before it knocks him out*

Beel: I was! But I think I made him mad…!!

Mammon: *gulps when he sees the metal pan just an inch from his nose, but has to push it aside quickly* He’s ALWAYS mad, Beel! What'cha do this time??

Beel: Nothing! *ducks a riocheting butter knife* I just…! Well…

Mammon: Spit it out already!!

Beel: I was trying to teach him how to eat, okay?? But he poked himself with a fork and lost it!

Satan: DIIIEEEE!!!!!

*previously thrown kitchen supplies lift off of the floor and start flying at them for a round two. Beel rips a cabinet door from its hinges to shield them while Mammon takes the frying pan to bat away the murderous forks and spoons*

Mammon: Beel!! We agreed that we weren’t givin’ him that stuff yet! He’ll kill us all!!

Beel: Yeah, yeah I know but it’s not fair! He should learn how to feed himself like the rest of us!

Mammon: Now’s not the time for “fair,” Beel!!

*apparently hearing the commotion himself, Asmo storms into the kitchen wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a beauty mask - but even covered in cleanser, he look PISSED*

Asmo: WHY IS IT SO LOUD IN HERE!?!

*Mammon grabs Asmo by the arm and pulls him out of the way of an iron cauldron careening his way. Asmo shrieks at the sudden pull and clutches onto Mammon for dear life following the close save*

Asmo: What is the little monster doing now?!? Why are things flying??

Mammon: Quit callin’ him a monster and hell if I know! It’s not like he knows any spells!!

Beel: *whacks away a meat tenderizer aimed at Asmo’s cheek* I think he’s just really mad!

Asmo: *throws his hands up in despair* Of course of all the babies in all the world, we managed to get one that radiates homicide!!

Mammon: Shut your trap and go wake up Belphie! Lucifer’s still with Diavolo so he’s gotta be the one to put him to sleep this time!

Asmo: Me?? Why me??? Belphie won’t get up for me, make Beel do it!

Mammon: Are ya blind AND stupid?? I need Beel here with me! Just scream or something ‘till Belphie wakes up! It’s all you’re good for anyway!

Asmo: Shut up, you money-grubbing dirtbag!!

Beel: NOT THE TIME!! GO NOW!!!

*Asmo yelps a bit at the volume, but he manages to run out of the kitchen without much injury*

Satan: DIE!! Die! Die! DIE!!

Mammon: *pops his head out from behind their cover* Yeah we get it little buddy, ya don’t like us! But would it kill ya to cut it out??

Satan: DIIIIEEEE!!!!!!

*Mammon quickly jerks back behind the "shield" as a set of five knives all lodge themselves into it*

Mammon: Fuck, okay nevermind!!

*it only takes a couple minutes of fighting off the cutlery for Asmo to come back with a drowsy, but upright, Belphie in tow*

Belphie: What’s happening here…??

Mammon: No time for explainin’!

*Mammon swiftly grabs Belphie and sticks him behind Beel before taking the cabinet door from him*

Mammon: Grab another, Beel!

*while Beel rips off the other door, Mammon keeps shouting over the chaos*

Mammon: Belph, ya gotta knock out the kid! Beel and I will protect ya, just stay behind us then get’em outta the chair! Do what ya gotta do after that!

Belphie: *stays right behind Beel but groans* What did you do this time…??

Mammon: Shuddup and move!!

*the three of them start approaching the baby in the high chair, still wailing at the top of his lungs. Between the two cabinet doors and their combined reflexes, Beel and Mammon are able to keep Belphie more or less shielded from the flying utensils until they finally get close enough from him to make a move*

*Belphie jumps forward enough to grab the buckle to Satan’s seat, ignoring his little fists as they try to rip his hair out, and he gets the baby out of the chair as quick as he can manage*

Belphie: Ow!! Okay, lights out, kid!!

*Belphie sticks his hand over Satan’s eyes and, gradually, his struggling loses its gusto until the little baby falls asleep in his arms. All the kitchen supplies fall to the ground and it seems like his tantrum is finally over…*

Mammon: *drops the “shield” he was holding* Oh thank fuck that worked!! No more forks for him, Beel!

Beel: *also sets down his “shield” and looks down guiltily* But how is he ever going to eat right…?

Mammon: We’ll just have to teach him when he gets better.

Belphie: “If” he gets better…

*there’s a silence between the brothers as the gravity of that thought sinks in… What if he never gets any better…?*

*But then the little boy yawns*

Satan: *yaaaawn* Pa…

*all heads in the room snap towards the baby demon and everyone holds their breath. That was a new sound… right?*

Satan: Pa… Per… wish…

Beel: “Per… wish?”

Belphie: I think he meant, “Perish…”

Asmo: *groans* Of course his second word also means, “Die!”

Mammon: But he’s learnin’! That’s what Lucifer said, right?

*Mammon comes over and carefully takes the sleeping Satan from Belphie, holding him not unlike how he used to do all of them when they were young*

Mammon: He’ll get better, alright? Believe your big brothers for once! Ya guys weren’t all that different than this...

Asmo: *rolls his eyes* That’s such a lie...

Mammon: Shuddup Asmo, I’m serious! We just gotta be patient…

Beel: Do you think Lilith could have calmed him down…?

*again, there’s another silence in the room… aside from Satan’s soft snoring. For once, it seems like his little brothers are looking at Mammon for something… comfort maybe?*

Mammon: Lilith… *he fights the urge to bite his lip by holding Satan a little tighter* Lilith woulda been patient with’em… Levi too. They’d have helped us out…

Belphie: If they were still here…

Mammon: *sighs* Yeah Belphie. If they were still here… but we don’t gotta focus on that part, ya know?

*Mammon starts walking towards the exit, patting little Satan on his sleepy head*

Mammon: I’m puttin’ the little shit to bed. Ya got feedin’ duty again tomorrow, Beel. No forks this time.

Beel: *nods quietly* Alright…

Mammon: *stops at the doorway and looks back* Oh. And “not it” explainin’ this mess to Lucifer. Ya gotta figure that out yourselves!

*as his brothers start to shout out in protest, Mammon just laughs triumphantly while he starts down the hallway. Looks like something isn’t his fault for once*

~Meanwhile in the Deepest Depths of the Ocean~

*for the first time since his conquest began, Levi is completely alone in the darkness. Having conquered every part of the seas above, all he has left is the deepest trenches to explore… home to the nightmares even his army refuses to face*

*perhaps being a stranger to this world has helped him. Whatever force commanded his troops to stay above has no sway on his mind. Even Lotan, his most trusted general, wouldn't follow him into these shadows...*

*he's told only one thing lives here. A creature beyond all comprehension... A being without form, without thought, and without convention, and yet festers into consciousness like a blight on all existence... A creature for which all other monsters fear to the point of insanity yet, strangely, Levi remains undaunted...*

*his mantra of loathing shields him as much as it consumes him. He’ll bow to no beast who believes they're better than him, no matter their size or strength. No one can think they’re better than he is... He’ll prove their lives are worthless in the end*

*finding the creature proved easy. He only had to follow the strings of insanity attempting to strangle his mind, growing ever thicker the closer he’d come. A lesser being may have felt helpless approaching it… a shattering insignificance compared to One that Defies All: a primordial essence from which those below the depths are connected and yet through denial believe to be their own... A Greater Power. A God*

*... but he’s fought a God before. All he saw before him now was an Abomination*

*and what he eventually saw skewered on the end of his trident was just another step on his journey of conquest - even as blood the color of madness plumed in the water around him, boiling his skin and contorting his bones... When the ranting clutter in his mind finally quieted, Levi was something new entirely…*

*he didn’t need to return to his army to feel their presence now. His metamorphosis completed when a ghastly wail that escaped his throat, carried telepathically through the waters around him. A clear signal to all who felt it... Above the sea, you’d hear nothing. But below...*

*a cacophony of shrieks. A chorus of howls. The roar of a new Master and the response of an entire ocean now at his disposal...*

*An army of unspeakable terror flourishing just out of sight…*

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

#am i saying levi killed an elder god?#that is exactly what i'm saying #i will die on this hill #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me scenarios #obey me fic #obey me headcanons

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softgaycontent · 3 years

Text

Autistic Amity Analysis:

(Spoilers up to S2E2 Escaping Expulsion)

CW for: referenced child abuse, ableism

Good post here as well on Amity being Autistic. I may touch on some of the same points because the source material is the same.

Alador

Amity's father, Alador, is fairly overtly autistic. It runs in families.

Justifications real quick because he doesn't mask like Amity so it is easier to point to clear signs:

Fairly non-expressive, holding the same half-lidded expression that Amity does as default

Extremely interested in animals/creatures, to the point of being distracted by them in the middle of conversations

Unbrushed Hair / lack of attention to or care for grooming, even at important functions or for family portraits

Very intelligent / creative / technical (a successful inventor)

His body language and the way he holds his hands over one-another after Odalia crushes the bug-thing

Unsure if this is Odalia knowing her husband well or her being very rude (probably both), but she is constantly doing things like bringing him back on track or gently moving him away as they're leaving the school. He does look kind of annoyed when she reaches inside his coat for their business card though.

NOTE: I think if Odalia had any real influence over Alador at all, she would have at least made him tidy up for the family portrait (he has unbrushed hair, goggles, and abomination goop on him). She either truly respects him for who he is or can't make him do anything.

Abuse

Odalia seems genuinely fond of her husband. She sees him as her equal, and expects others to respect him as well (introducing him as the greatest inventor in the Isles). Unfortunately Amity, as her child, is not given the same room to be herself. She is expected to have all the strengths as her parents, with none of the "weaknesses".

It would not be surprising if Alador struggled growing up autistic and truly believes that teaching Amity to cover it up is better for her. It's unclear how much of her overall abuse is perpetrated by each of her parents, but Alador does seem to be an active (not just passive) participant at least some of the time.

In Lost in Language, the twins justify being cruel to Amity because "she's got to learn", and that as "her family" they are responsible for showing her "tough love". This is clearly something they picked up from growing up in an abusive household, but it may be something they particularly believe about Amity, their weird little sister who doesn't act quite like the other kids, and gets upset too easily.

Amity's necklace may have started as a way for Odalia to remind Amity in public places to make eye contact with people, to stop stimming, or otherwise mask. She has worn it since at least whatever age she is in the flashbacks of Understanding Willow (6-10?).

Special Interest

Amity and Luz both really love the Azura books. Luz is canonically neurodivergent with ADHD, which has some overlaps with ASD.

One of Amity's main forms of expressing herself seems to be in relation to the books. She draws herself as or with the characters often, befriends Luz more easily because of their shared enjoyment of the series, and tries to replicate a scene from tGWA in real life (Thorn Vault).

Emotions

Amity is fairly stoic. She is not super expressive most of the time, and her eyes are often held in the same half-open way her fathers are. Exceptions being when she is very angry or (more rarely) comfortably happy that her eyes open fully and more of her face changes.

Amity taps her hands against her knees when she is excited in Wing it Like Witches, and really tends use her hands to express herself a lot.

Her siblings make fun of her for getting so mad that her whole face goes red, which seems like the sort of reaction you might have if you were taught not to stomp out your anger like you want to, and hold it in instead.

Justice

One symptom of ASD is feeling very passionate about what is fair and what isn't.

Amity is shown consistently to get very angry over fairness. First, when Luz and Willow cheat by pretending that Luz is an abomination (taking Amity's badge), then again when Eda and Lilith cheat in Covention, and finally at the fact that her siblings never get in trouble despite their frequent troublemaking.

This is the thing that drives her to anger more than anything.

She seems visibly mad at her mom while her friends are being expelled in Escaping Expulsion up until Odalia reminds her that she didn't uphold her end of the deal (re: the expo) at which point Amity gives in and looks defeated instead. Seemingly, she accepts that this was her fault and there's nothing she can do.

Comfort

Amity seeks comfort in dark, quiet places. Her favorite place to spend time is a secret little room in the library. In Covention, Amity finds a dark corner to sit in to calm down.

(Arguably the fort that she and Willow built in the flashbacks of Understanding Willow was away from the other campers and out of the sun as well.)

Touch

Amity seems to like being touched (by Luz and Willow) clearly friendly ways, and strongly dislikes being touched at all other times.

Amity's siblings mostly seem to touch her in ways that annoy her in Adventures in the Elements. First on purpose, squishing her in a lean between them both, then possibly on accident, as Edric copies the hair ruffle Eda had just done to Luz. Amity seems to visibly dislike the feeling, and the fact that it messed up her hair.

She also really hates it when Hooty touches her; although most characters acknowledge him as annoying, she really loses it when he touches her again.

When Luz hugs her in Understanding Willow, Amity does not reciprocate, even though she seems to enjoy the gesture. She also reacts noticeably to the fact that Luz is still holding her hand after they arrive back in the owl house.

She seemed to enjoy keeping a close proximity to Willow when they were kids.

Misc

Amity takes Luz literally when she says, "I'm picking up what you're putting down."

Hair

OK this one is purely a bonus headcanon about Amity's undercut. :)

Amity's hair is shown to be rather thick in her concept art, and Emira also seems to have very thick hair, so the reason it is not big and poofy in canon is probably due entirely to her undercut.

A lot of autistic kids have sensory issues around having their hair brushed, which only get worse with large, thick hair which tangles easily.

I like to think that Odalia had a lot of trouble brushing Amity's hair and putting it up into a neat style every day. much less teaching her to do it for herself. Eventually, she gave up and took Amity to get her hair cut, eliminating a lot of the thickness with the undercut, and providing Amity with a hairstyle she could easily manage herself.

Amity loved it, and also really likes running her hands over the short parts when she is by herself.

(While Odalia is too harsh about the way Amity behaves and looks, she will usually actually meet her half-way on sensory accommodations, like comfortable sheets)

#amity blight #the owl house #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #don't mind me #asd #toh theories

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years

Note

Ok what happens to Torrent? Can the brothers trapped in there be released as they process their own death? Or are they stuck like that? And those questions again but specifically about Jesse.

They're not a very typical Force Wound so unfortunately they're all just stuck like that for the foreseeable future. No one really knows if they'll ever move on and find peace, or if they're just perpetually stuck in limbo. Whatever the case, once they're not a violent mess of misplaced anger, they're gonna use this opportunity to help fight the Empire.

Through helping Torrent calm down, Jesse gains control. He's a bit shaken up since he's traumatised from Order 66 going live, as well as needing some time to process the fact that they all died and then were brought back as some kind of Force creature that makes little sense even to the Jedi.

There's a lot on Jesse's plate since he's basically the one in charge, and he needs to attend to not only his own needs but also the different needs of every single soul he's basically sharing a body with. Not to mention the fact his body doesn't work 100% like he remembers. Some times he wakes up with tattoos that he's pretty sure were someone else's. Other times he'll be doing something and realise he shouldn't be holding these many things, and oops that's too many arms for one clone... The more unsettling things are honestly when he has too many irises, teeth, or his voice sounds like more than one person talking.

Getting used to being an eldritch abomination is no picnic I'll tell you that much...

#star wars #the clone wars #forceful intervention au #arc trooper jesse #body horror #eldritch abomination #gaeasun

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crystalkleure · 3 years

Photo

Haha hey remember that post I made awhile back, speculating on what a bad idea it might be to fuse dead things in the godless Frankenstein fossil machine

Meet White. He is a reanimated corpse. Two of them, actually. Or more like 1.5. [And I whipped up this half-assed partial reference sheet in one night instead of sleeping, so don’t look too hard at the chickenscratch lineart and visible guidelines, and kindly ignore the total lack of shading as well as any other messy jankiness.]

White is a product of me wondering not only about what happens if you NecroFuse a human with a Pokemon, but also what happens if you make it even worse and specifically fuse that human with a Pokemon capable of mega evolution. Because canon seems to imply that mega evolving is at best deeply uncomfortable -- and at worst outright agonizing -- for whatever creature is going through it.

Character Lore under the cut. Lots of text:

White is one of actually multiple undead guys who got mashed together with bits of dead Pokemon. They’re science experiments, so they've got the dex numbers of the Pokemon they're spliced with tattooed on the backs of their necks, and those numbers were treated as their names In The Evil Science Lab.

In his Original Life, White [and some of his buddies] got gored to death by some escaped Horrible Fucking Monsters that were accidentally [...and then not-so-accidentally] created via Two Pokemon At Once In A Fossil Resurrection Machine, because hey, it is SUPER easy to think you got Just One Thing's Bones from an excavation dig but then later you realize that Some Of Those Bones were from something TOTALLY different that just died in the same place. It happens. So, some Fossil Scientist People accidentally resurrected an Abomination, realized they fucked up pretty fast...and then started wondering if they REALLY fucked up or if this is Cool, Actually. And then the team of Science People split into two Morality Factions, with one half being like “This is unethical as shit, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again because it's not natural so who knows how this poor fucked up creature is suffering” and the other, cooler half being like “WE NEED TO DO THIS AGAIN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE SCIENCE. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES HOLY SHIT.”

Cooler group splits off from the Horrified Group With Morals, and they promptly use their Science Knowledge to Construct More Machines and Make More Monsters. Doesn't take too long for them to realize, however, that Abomination Pokemon are stupidly hard to control, because not only are they suffering, their masters obviously don't care for their wellbeing, so Revolt Inevitably Occurs and they escape to wreak havoc upon the nearest congregation of townspeople. They promptly maul some people to death at a nearby local rock concert, scientists chase after them to clean up the mess, realize “Oh Shit, Manslaughter Charges Impending”, and then realize...

Science Guy 1: “...Hey, what happens if you put a dead person in the fossil machine?”

Science Guy 2: “Hey, people probably listen better than Pokemon. We can, like, TALK to people.”

Science Guy 3: “Lads, I got a stellar idea just now. And we got plenty of Dead Guys to start with right here! Great way to hide the bodies too, probably.”

This goes approximately as well as you would expect, and precisely as ethically. A smashing success!

However, because they Fucking Died, the reanimated Newly-Monsterized dudes do not remember shit about who they were pre-resurrection. They're not technically even the same people, they’re more like clones. They've been remade. So, all they know now is Science Lab Life, and they have no initial attachment to eachother aside from "that other guy is also a Science Experiment Person just like me, so Same Hat @ Labrat Neighbour ig", in spite of several having been friends or even family prior to death. They also just...don’t know/remember things in general. They are fresh blank slates. And to a morally-bankrupt team of scientists, that’s perfect! They can train these guys to behave however they please!

...However, people might be People Instead Of Animals, meaning they can be Reasoned With And Manipulated And Coerced far better than animals due to their far better communication abilities with the Science People, but...there is Still A Problem in the sense that Holy Shit, A Person Can Only Take So Much. You can only treat someone as "Experiment [number]" for so long, blatantly putting no value on their life outside of The Value Of Scientific Research, in spite of literally basically needing to raise them like a normal child due to the Lack Of Memories issue. Eventually they're not gonna be able to take that anymore and they are gonna Fucking Leave, too. And they’re gonna be much harder to track down than the rampaging Pokemon were. Impossible, actually, once they’ve ripped out their tracking chips.

So then there's just these monster dudes, who don't actually know what they are because they weren't ever told anything more than necessary to get them to cooperate with Tests And Experiments, just Escaped Into Civilization and having NO idea how Anything works. Fun! Especially considering how, at first glance, these just look like Normal Dudes. Their monster bits either aren't apparent or just look like funky body modifications.

They've also got Science Things in them and they Don't Know What The Fuck Those Things Even Are. They've just got these little Devices in/on their chests, and they were never informed of the exact functions of them because there's no reason to explain to the experiment What Is Happening, just that the experiment needs to Hold Still and Cooperate and Now Do This, Now Do This, Now Do That, Good Job That's Enough For Today, etc.

Those devices contain both key stones and mega stones.

If you were a Mad Pokemon Scientist, you would most certainly be interested in the mega evolution phenomenon. What would YOU do if some of your Undead Fusion Experiments happened to be spliced with bits of Pokemon known to be capable of mega evolving? You’d kill two birds with one enigmatic set of stones, that’s what you’d do. Your Frankenstein Experiments can even TALK to you and tell you exactly what they are experiencing when you run tests on them! It’s perfect!

So, if a rock-bearing monster’s heart rate goes too high, part of the little device, which is a barrier between one type of rock and the other, opens up and Exposes One Rock To The Other Rock. Which exposes the monster to the Rock Energy Reaction. The greater the stress, the higher the dose. And I’m sure you can see the snowball effect that’s gonna create, at least the first time or two.

They were INTENDED to eventually be made to Physically Fight With Eachother to gauge the effects of The Rocks™️ when the Guys With The Rocks are under Stress and need to Do Some Self-Defense. The Science Squad was basically trying to suss out the Actual Purpose of mega evolution. Because mega evolution is weird -- it puts ENORMOUS stress on the body of whatever is undergoing it, so the hypothesis was that its true power is probably drawn out best via a perceived life-threatening situation, like it’s a type of hysterical strength, because what else would cause a need for that kind of ability. And aren’t ethics a bit overrated?

So, there’s our premise. White is just wandering around without any particular purpose outside of never ever going back to Science Hell, and he has no clue what the funny little doohickey buried in his chest does until it activates one day and absolutely fucks him up [...as well as everyone around him. Mega Absol radiate an Aura Of Sheer Terror that can literally scare people with weak hearts to death if they’re not careful.]

And now, some Miscellaneous Character Info:

The bit about Lots Of Death happening at a rock concert specifically was important. White was actually the vocalist of the band that was playing. He doesn’t remember that now, but he still loves music and has the same strong vocal cords. And THAT is important because White is partially an Absol now and Absol naturally learns Perish Song. These Fusion Monsters are absolutely capable of using Pokemon moves, though whether they’re aware of this is a different matter entirely. Imagine what happens when they end up tapping into those abilities accidentally.

That band was a relatively-unknown little local band. White was by no means anywhere near famous. Very few people even realized he was gone, and most of the ones who would have noticed also ended up Equally Unalive.

That black stuff between the belts on White’s arms is mesh. Like, stocking mesh. It gets Ripped The Fuck Apart when he goes Mega Mode and his arm fur gets Extra Spiky. Hence one stocking being a bit tattered in that reference pic. He frequently has to replace those things, they are fragile.

“How did White get his name if he doesn’t remember his original name and didn’t have a real name in the lab” I am glad you asked! Post-escape, he eventually encountered a situation where someone asked him what his name was, he bluntly told them “I don’t have one. I am #359.”, they said “Well That Is Not A Name, I need something proper to call you”, and he was just...Super Apathetic. So, the other person picked out the name “White” just based on the fact that White’s hair is white, and he just shrugged and rolled with it.

As you can see in my Incredibly Quick And Rough Sketches, the backs of White’s shirts are open to accommodate that huge amount of fur that bristles out into false wings when he goes Mega Mode. Because his Actual Normal Hair is relatively long and overlaps with that fur, it blends in with his Actual Normal Hair and doesn’t look too odd [when it’s down]. Probably mostly because nobody’s expecting it to be anything OTHER than Perfectly Normal Hair That Just Happens To Be Very Long.

White does not particularly like violence. White does not want to beat you up. He will, though, without a bit of hesitation, if there’s some logical reason he feels like it’s the most practical course of action. Being essentially raised by Cold, Emotionally-Sterile Scientists With No Care For The Wellbeing Other Living Beings uh, tends to affect a guy a little bit. White has a bit of an internal dilemma regarding “It would be efficient for me to just Harm This Other Person to defuse the current situation, because attempting nonviolence will be overall more risky somehow” vs. “Holy shit it feels bad when I hurt people. Why does it feel bad when I hurt people. Is it...SUPPOSED to feel bad when I hurt people?? No one ever felt bad for hurting me.” He Figures Out How Empathy Works Eventually. He is a good guy at heart. He is a Monotone Snarker, but not actually Cold or Malicious at all.

If an Absol can do it, White can probably do it. He has incredibly keen senses and a STRONG ability to Detect Impending Doom. He has exactly the amount of Supernatural Absol Powers you would expect. He is also stupidly physically strong, way more so than he appears to be.

White can’t punch people. Look at the fist he’s making in the pic, he’s doing it wrong. If you punch someone like that, you WILL break your own thumb. That’s not a Revving Up To Sock Someone pose, he’s just tense. He’s using his thumb as a buffer between his long-ass Sharp As Fuck claws and the flesh of his palm. If White tries to punch anybody, or just makes a proper fist at all, he will impale his own hand on his nails. Like, all the way through. He CAN slash straight through things like metal and bone with those claws, though.

White...is unsettling. Completely accidentally, and unknowingly. He just radiates an Aura Of Intimidation [...or Pressure], even when not in Mega Mode, that scales depending on his mood. Just being near him tends to put people and Pokemon on edge. Thus, he’s generally avoided.

The latter point is especially unfortunate, because White’s preferred method of Socializing and Bonding is to just kind of quietly hang out in the same room as whoever he is trying to Socialize and Bond with. He just wants to, like...chill out Near A Buddy and watch a movie and share a bag of chips or something. His social skills are predictably not good.

#DO YOU LIKE MY TOTALLY NORMAL GUY #HE SUFFERS #He's pretty though and that's what actually matters here right #I need to draw the other Totally Normal Guys sometime too. White is Part Of A Set.#Pokemon #CK's art #OCs #I have Long Pointy Fingernails myself can you tell

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hopelessly-me · 3 years

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Winterhawk in a haunted house

Hehehehe. Okay so- I didn't know what flavor of haunted house you wanted- like paranormal or jump scare. But I went with paranormal. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Winterhawk, rated T. Mostly silly and goofy but probably contains a swear word or twelve. 1868 words.

“Spooky spooky spooky,” Clint muttered as he climbed the stairs inside the old Victorian house, using his flashlight to check the floor below them, half expecting someone to be standing there ominously. Just the thought of it raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Clint,” Bucky said, half annoyed from the sounds of it. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Yeah, I used to not believe in aliens too,” Clint said as Bucky reached the top floor and looked either way before turning right. “And then I met gods and had an alien try to makeout with me, and then Venom did makeout with me.”

“Not sure those things correlate, doll,” Bucky said gently as he opened a door and peeked into a room. “Oh hey look, it’s you,” Bucky said brightly before he flashed a light into the room, illuminating a few dozen dolls. “You’re my doll, and these are some dead person’s dolls.” Clint glowered at Bucky, not amused. “Come on. Six hours and we can go.”

“I really don’t see why I have to be punished for you losing a bet with Sam,” Clint grumbled, leaving that room and hoping that was the only room with those porcelain abominations in it.

“Yeah, I thought that was implied in the whole ‘til death do us part’ part of our marriage contract,” Bucky replied, closing the door after Clint. “I have to deal with your stupid shit, so you are stuck doing my stupid shit. Forever.”

“Charming. Romantic even. Ten out of ten recommend,” Clint rambled on.

Everything about this house screams demon in the basement. The furniture was old and covered in fabric which was under inches of dust. The shades on the lamps were at least from the fifties, cobwebs in the shades and gleaming off the metallic bases, shimmering in the dim light. The floorboards creaked under even the slightest amount of pressure.

It was spooky and Clint hated spooky. It was right up there with magic, might even be tied for first place. He could handle fake haunted houses- he had done them when he was in the circus, learned how to pickpocket that way even. But places that were rumored to be haunted? Yeah- that’s where Clint threw in the towel.

“Spooky spooky spooky,” Clint whispered as he followed behind Bucky as they toured the house, Bucky holding a camcorder like the old man he was. But was Clint going to comment on it? No. Because that old man was the only thing between him and whatever creature from hell lived in the basement. If push came to shove, Clint was fairly certain he would sacrifice Bucky and take off running. That might result in a divorce but… Clint had been divorced before, right? He could handle being divorced.

“Clint.”

“Leave me alone,” Clint sang as he peered into a bathroom. Back in the day, Clint had a feeling this bathroom was glorious- the tub alone was so deep he was pretty sure he could properly soak in it. Now- it was lackluster at best. Clint closed the door and caught a glimpse of Bucky as he went to go back downstairs.

“Why do you believe in ghosts anyway?” Bucky asked as they walked into the kitchen. The kitchen from hell. The murder room. It looked like a murder room.

“Agnes from the circus,” Clint answered.

“She was a con.”

“Oh, she was definitely a con when it came to reading people, but she wasn’t a con when it came to a lot of other things,” Clint answered. “She’s the one who taught me not to whistle in the woods, and to leave weird things found in the woods alone.” Bucky reached to pick something up and Clint slapped his hand. “No.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Bucky said, turning around, camera coming closer to Clint. “Tell everyone how much fun you are having, sunshine.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I would rather drink bleach than stay in here overnight.”

“Clint.”

“I mean, yay, look at me, having so much fun,” Clint said in a monotone voice. Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just so we are clear, if Mothman climbs out of the basement, I am shoving you down the stairs and running for it.”

“You know what? If Mothman comes out from that basement, you don’t even have to push me,” Bucky said with far too much confidence for Clint’s taste. “I will gladly stand between you and a Lunar moth.” Bucky turned around and walked. “How about this? Why don’t we talk about something else to get your mind off of whatever Agnes traumatized you with.”

“Yeah, sure- let’s make that attempt,” Clint said.

“Since I am forced to do this as punishment… why don’t we gossip about the others?” Bucky asked. “Like… did you know Sam actually owns more Avengers merch than he admits to?”

“... he what?” Clint asked.

“Yep. I raided his apartment one day when he was gone because I was going to set up a prank and I looked in his closet. He has a Captain America teddy bear,” Bucky said.

“You’re lying.”

“Swear on my mother’s grave,” Bucky said. “He has Cap bear, and a Iron Man figurine.”

For what it was worth, Bucky was very good at distracting Clint from their situation. Clint was into the gossip, whether it was Bucky telling him things or Clint sharing what he knew, careful to skirt over anything about Natasha because he didn’t have a death wish. And when they weren’t gossiping, they were talking about needing to go for a grocery run and needing to buy new pet beds because Lucky had decided the beds were stuffed animals. Which then turned into needing to send Lucky to Kate and America’s for a bit so they could take a vacation. Clint wanted a beach vacation- any excuse to lay under the sun was his favorite thing. Bucky wanted to go tour historical sites, which Clint knew he would cave to because he liked seeing the wonder in Bucky’s eyes when he toured sites he had only heard about or seen on television. Scratch that- he was a sucker for anything that Bucky did. Since when did he become a sap?

They finally settled down and were sitting in the living room, both of them wordlessly agreeing that sitting on the furniture wasn’t an option so they cuddled up in a corner. Bucky had set up a lantern so they could see what was around them, and they used their sleeping bags under their legs to prop them up better. Clint reached over and held Bucky’s hand and fiddled with his wedding ring, smiling as it gleamed. Bucky took care of that ring like he did his arm. He was constantly cleaning it, checking to make sure it was perfect. Clint was currently on replacement ring number three- which averaged to one ring per year so he was taking that as a win.

The conversation fell and Clint snuggled up, resting his head against Bucky’s shoulder. He was exhausted, unable to sleep the night before. Clint went to close his eyes, maybe take a nap, and that’s when he heard it- a creak on the floor above them. He tightened his hold on Bucky’s hand and looked up.

“Its an old house,” Bucky reminded Clint. “And it’s windy out. Creaks are going to happen.”

Clint nodded and settled in again. Bucky was right- houses settled and creaks, and the wind was howling outside occasionally. But then the creak happened again before he heard what sounded like a boot step, followed by another step, and another. And they had toured that house, twice, top to bottom, minus the basement because Clint outright refused, and there was nowhere anyone could have hidden that they wouldn’t have seen. They were trained, for goodness sake- if there was a place to hide, they would have checked it.

The creaking ended at the top of the stairs and Clint and Bucky both leaned over to peer up the stairs. “Someone probably snuck in here and is trying to mess with us. Probably Natasha.”

“Probably my sleep paralysis demon catching up to me,” Clint muttered.

Bucky turned his head to look at Clint. “I understood that reference and I worry about you.” Bucky got up. “I’m going to go check.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I know you have watched horror movies. That never ends well,” Clint insisted.

“I love you but you need to start taking therapy seriously,” Bucky said, grabbing his flashlight and heading towards the stairs.

“As if you are one to talk. How many knives you got on you?” Clint retorted. “Not that you can stab a ghost to death.” Bucky waved him off and stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up, slowly moving his flashlight to get a better image. Clint half-assed crawled over a few places to take a peek for himself.

“Well, I don’t get to stab a ghost because there is no such thing as-” Bucky began to say before there was a noise from the kitchen. Bucky frowned and turned his flashlight. “... definitely Natasha. She uses windows.”

“Hey! Hey! You can’t just leave me here,” Clint said, scrambling to get us. “Again. Horror movies. Respect the horror movies.” Bucky just waved him off and disappeared into the kitchen. “... dammit.” Clint snatched his flashlight on his way to the kitchen to follow Bucky. “Listen, I know you think it’s dumb but I really think- Buck?”

Bucky was staring at the floor, his head tilted to the side. Clint walked over to him and looked at a knife that was on the floor. Clint’s eyes traveled from the knife over the cabinets, every single one of them open.

“You alright?” Clint asked.

“It… just came flying out,” Bucky said. He reached out and waved his hand around before he picked up the knife, using his flashlight to inspect it. “But there’s no string attached.” Clint leaned over Bucky and looked at the knife as well, frowning.

“Spooky.”

A noise caught their attention and they both looked over at the basement door. It sounded like someone coming up the stairs, heavy footsteps and creaking boards. Clint slowly started to stand up, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

But just as quickly as all the noises came, everything seemed to stop. Clint hadn’t realized he was gripping onto the back of Bucky’s shirt, slowly letting it go and smoothing it out. Bucky was starting to lose his tension, his muscles starting to relax it seemed.

“So… that was weird,” Bucky commented. “Should we go-”

“You will have to drag my corpse to that basement if you want me to go with you,” Clint said. “I want to go find a corner, I want to take my hearing aids out, and I want to sleep. Or try to sleep.”

Bucky turned and smiled, reaching a hand up to hold Clint’s face. “I promise that if I see Mothman or… whatever… I will wake you up and let you have the headstart.”

Clint smiled a little and leaned down and kissed him. “My hero,” he murmured against Bucky’s lips.

#winterhawk #spooky season prompts #a wild prompt appeared #thanks for the fun prompt!

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sepublic · 4 years

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Eda the Beast

Well, a horrible thought just came into my head- But imagine Eda transforming into an Owl Beast the first few times, the first few years into her curse. And in addition to all of the horrible stuff she must’ve gone through… Imagine her turning into an Owl Beast and getting out into public; Being mistaken for just a regular beast, and having Animal Control called on her! Imagine Animal Control abusing and mistreating Eda not as an actual person but as a creature, throwing her into a cage, locking her up… Imagine Eda reverting back inside a cage, scared and traumatized... Terrified by the other animals, especially if she’s put into the same room as some! And then they get harsh towards her, and Eda retains injuries from her time as an Owl Beast, having no idea what happened or what’s going on with her…

Imagine Eda having to deal with almost being put down, or captured and sold to some zoo, or Lilith having to rescue her! Imagine Eda recognizing her situation, dimly, and desperately trying to convey that she is a PERSON, not a pet, not a wild animal to be euthanized or experimented on… Imagine some bullies at school, snidely telling Eda that her sleeves should be orange like her hair; Because an animal like her would surely recognize other creatures and be a wonderful Beastkeeper! And any time she does well with beastkeeping magic, this kind of snide remark of, “Of COURSE the Monster Girl knows beasts well!” is made, discouraging Eda and making her feel self-conscious about her skill there, until she just straight-up forgoes beastkeeping magic, with it ruined for her… And don’t consider bullies sneering and suggesting that Eda could be ‘tamed’ with beastkeeping magic, as the animal she really is! Maybe a few bullies from the beastkeeping track try to pull a cruel prank- And of course Eda still wrecks them, but still.

It’d be so humiliating, dehumanizing, and really reinforce Eda’s insistence on being free and not beholden to anyone, least of all Belos…! Maybe it’d give new background to Eda being King’s friend, because she actually sort of gets and understands that feeling of being treated like a mindless animal to own or do away with, and not as a legitimate person. King wouldn’t know how Eda understands, he wasn’t aware of the curse until rather recently- So then it just leads to him wondering why this random Owl Lady is so considerate, what could she POSSIBLY know about his situation?! Perhaps Eda ends up feeling sympathy for some animals and creatures who are abused, because like it or not, they were right to an extent- Being cursed DID give her some perspective on what it’s like for beasts, and grant some very involuntary and dehumanizing solidarity with them.

Maybe people compare Eda to the Greater Basilisk or whatever, as a monster pretending to be a witch, rather than a witch who sometimes turns into an Owl Beast… And how Eda might get mistreated; The apprehension and distrust towards Demon Hunters, of being killed and maybe even chopped up and eaten by them… Objectified and treated like some exotic piece of meat, or some rare pet to own?! The idea makes me sick. Especially since we’ve seen basically what I’ve described almost happen in Escape of the Palisman… And then King taking advantage of Eda’s cursed state in that episode could’ve come across as a real betrayal to her. But on the other hand, King still tried to treat her with some respect, and you can argue that he tends to command and boss around actual people too, so the treatment may not be all that different; Still, it was NOT a good thing, but at least King apologized and legit changed his behavior.

I can see a lot of people who captured Eda realizing their mistake, but then blaming Eda for ‘tricking’ them or whatever! That kind of victim-blaming and gaslighting would really force Eda to affirm her self-confidence, while recognizing her dignity and where she’s been unjustly insulted and hurt, and to step up for herself- Especially after her and Lilith grew more distant, she really had to learn to handle the curse on her own, and probably with Hooty and Owlbert’s help. Thankfully, I can see Hooty being VERY adept at handling Owl Beast Eda… Then again, she DOES attack and disable him in The Intruder; So maybe not.

Maybe he was just caught by surprise, maybe Owl Beast Eda still attacked Hooty, because he’s just THAT aggravating, y’know? Maybe his voice is really irritating to OBE, so while he has the force to handle Eda, he doesn’t have enough of that sisterly, soothing reassurance that Lilith did. Also, Hooty may have been made a while into Eda’s curse, when she’d already figured out how to handle it with elixirs and not transform as often, whereas Lilith would’ve been alongside her for most of the trial-and-error. Regardless, Hooty is recognized, but he hasn’t done much to earn Owl Beast Eda’s love and affection, either…

Still- Let’s not imagine Owl Beast Eda having to go through the dehumanizing fear of being hunted at night, shall we? Let’s not think of some crowd or vigilantes trying to track down Owl Beast Eda into the woods, or worse- Some people try to lynch her! Of course Eda as a witch could protect herself and even kill in self-defense, but as an Owl Beast, not so much… A lot of bias and prejudice could lead to people doubting if Eda was acting in self-defense, or if she was just giving in to her ‘primal urges’ as a violent, savage beast. Don’t imagine Eda having to be REALLY mindful of how she acts or fights, until eventually she goes screw it, I’m rightfully defending myself and I’m a recluse criminal anyway… And really, I can see this kind of prejudice contributing to her being a recluse, alas. Possibly to get away from the torment, and also to protect herself- And maybe OTHERS, in Eda’s mind…

And it just leads to this idea in her head of separating from others to protect them, which culminates in the Season Finale when Eda tells Luz to abandon her to her petrification- Until Luz very much teaches Eda that she helps and heals and doesn’t hurt, by fighting on, while Lilith’s change of heart no doubt means a lot to Eda and impacts her- As does the crowd’s protest for her freedom. I imagine some people in the crowd recognized that there was a divide between Eda and her Owl Beast form- Or at the very least, this wasn’t something she could control and not something she should be killed for, especially if she can handle it with elixirs. A lot of people likely recognized that Owl Beast Eda’s threat to them was being greatly exaggerated, both by local rumors and the Emperor’s Coven. And that teaches Eda that people aren’t scared of her- Or at least, not enough to let her be executed, which means a lot because it shows that others also recognize the worth and rights of others, even if they don’t like that person.

Did Eda feel self-conscious, about people being afraid of her? And how she handled this in trying to sell things to people; How they eventually realized over the years that despite being a criminal, she hadn’t really hurt anyone who didn’t have it coming? Amidst enjoyment of her wares, Morton appreciating her business… Still, after that brief scene in Grom, I can see some kids regarding Eda with fear as the accursed Owl Beast, and it ends up REALLY getting to her, because the opinions of children tend to feel way more substantial than that of adults. Maybe Eda was a little hurt on the inside when Luz ran away from her in fear, because Eda didn’t immediately recognize that Luz was just a human and everyone in the Boiling Isles is scary to her- So it means a lot when Luz calms down and recognizes Eda as not a monster…

And even when Eda DOES turn into a monster, Luz still acts to incapacitate Eda, not kill or escape her; And Luz doesn’t even bat an eye at Eda when she wakes up. Obviously she was also focused on her first spell, but still! Her medical encouragement and tips towards Eda show that this is something that Luz has normalized, thanks to her open mind and influence from Camila; So it no doubt helps Eda REALLY feel like a person, and feel like normal in the proper way… Not in that conforming manner, but in the “Yes you deserve to live you are not an abomination nor a freak, you are VALID” manner. I’m just imagining Eda having once worried about looking scary to people, questioning her own appearance… And that leads to her learning to REALLY appreciate how she looks, and love her body, reclaim it on her own terms and not let others define it for Eda!

Maybe she had a phase where she tried to look more approachable, or changed herself up so people wouldn’t recognize her as the Owl Beast, before Eda just went screw it and fully embraced the Owl Lady aesthetic! Eda wouldn’t let anyone ruin anything for her, so after a period of avoiding beastkeeping magic, for fear that she’s validating and proving the insults that others say- As the feral Owl Lady, she embraces those kinds of spells as well! And I can see her even playing into that fear and apprehension by others, turning it against them- With Eda seeing a bully make a cruel remark about her being an animal or an infectious werewolf, before she bares her teeth and suggests that she really IS; Scaring off her bullies as Eda plays her own messed-up pranks that relate to her status as the Owl Lady.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house king #the owl house luz #luz noceda #angst #meta

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pi-cat000 · 4 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 40)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7

Part 41: here

VIVI POV

It is weird visiting the Pepper’s Diner without Lewis. Vivi has never been the friend with the car so Lewis or Arthur had always picked her up whenever she visited, meaning she’s never been here without at least one of them present.

Now, Vivi stands in the empty car park, trying not to look at the spot on which Arthur had been shot and Lewis had almost bled out. The memories of trying to frantically to help them both while knowing she would only have time to save one come unbidden, crowding at the forefront of her mind. She swallows, trying to shake the image and focus on locating Arthur’s van instead. Even as she scans the empty lot, her thoughts turn away from the task and back to that night.

Lewis had told her to help Arthur. Those had been his last words to her.

Vivi had already been in the process of helping Arthur so it was logical for her to continue.

Arthur was the less injured of the two, so had a better chance of survival.

Arthur was the rational choice.

If her dad hadn’t arrived when he did, then Lewis might have died, blood slowly spreading across the concrete, staining it red. If Mystery hadn’t done whatever weird supernatural thing he’d done to slow their blood loss...she doesn't want to think about it.

/The rain has washed away any remaining scent. We will have to do a visual search./

Vivi blinks and there is no blood, no Arthur, no Lewis. There is only the silent structure of Pepper Paradiso, windows dark and lifeless. She rubs her hands together to rid them of the sudden chill creeping through her limbs, before folding then under Lewis’s borrowed jacked and hugging her chest.

“Ye…” She takes a shaky breath, “Yeah. I figured. The van can’t have been parked too far away though. It would have been pretty hard to walk around all these rocks and cactus in the pitch black even with a lightning storm overhead.”

/ A reasonable assumption. / Mystery is eyeing with something akin to worry, head tilted to one side.

She ignores him, walking past to scan for any sign of the van. Unlike that night, the sky is clear with a half-moon just peeking above the horizon, casting a faint grey light over the flat landscape. A gentle breeze tugs gently at her hair. The body snatcher wouldn’t have come from the westward side of the diner because she’d been looking out that way at the time, talking on the phone with her dad. Surely, she would have noticed its approach between all the lightning strikes.

“You head that way…maybe thirty feet or so. We’re going to search in a grid around the diner,” She points out to the main road adjacent to the diner, tracing it in the air with a finger to what she thinks is thirty feet, “We’ll work our way out from the road, moving in opposite directions away from the diner. Let me know when you find it.”

Mystery nods a confirmation but doesn’t move off immediately, opting to instead watch her with increasing concern. Vivi deliberately turns away from him, moving out from the building and off the concrete, picking her way across the uneven landscape, pulling out her phone for additional light. Eventually, she hears the click of Mystery’s claws as he begins his search, jumping from rock to rock and disappearing amongst the low desert shrubs. Vivi lets her shoulders slump, all the stress and activity of the past few days finally catching up to her, weighing on her. She shakes herself and pulls the jacket tight. With her phone’s dim flashlight barely providing enough light to see her own feet, it’s hard to avoid tripping over rocks and dips in the ground. It may look flat, but the desert is full of indents and holes. On the bright side, the rough terrain meant the van was probably closer to the road because there was no way anyone could drive very far across this.

If the van is even out here at all.

Doubt curls in her gut.

What if she’d wrong about this too?

Across the darkened landscape the moon finally makes it fully over the horizon line. A new chill descends as the last of the day’s heat evaporates into the night. Vivi persists, continuing until the diner has faded into an outline. Nothing jumps out at her as being strange. It’s just empty in all directions.

/I have found it./

When Mystery finally calls an end to the search Vivi’s eyes are hurting with the strain of squinting.

“Where?”

Mystery’s telepathic projections don’t have a huge range so he must be nearby. She turns, twisting around to scan the darkness. A flash of white fur catches the moonlight. Mystery nimbly leaps over an outcropping of cactus in her direction, pausing to motion with a paw back the way he’d come.

/This way./

They make their way slowly back in the direction of the highway before turning to walk parallel to the road. A car flashes by, momentarily blinding her and she stops to blink away the bright splotches which briefly overtake her vision. The walk feels doubly long with how tied she’s becoming.

Finally, Mystery turns back into the desert, following a sloping incline downward into a ditch where she spots a familiar orange rectangle. No wonder no one had found the van yet. Unless you were searching specifically for it, it would be almost impossible to see from either the diner or the highway.

Vivi exhales a long, hard breath of pure relief, hurrying to overtake Mystery.

Slowly, she circles the van, stretching up to shine her phone-light through the front window and into the shadowed interior. The seats of the van appear normal. There is an empty fast food bag and it looks like someone has tipped the glove compartment onto the ground. She peers further in, noting that their camping gear is no longer in neat piles but messy and scattered about. Nothing stands out as human-body shaped. She steps away.

“No dead bodies,” She tells Mystery, watching him finish his own circuit of the van, sniffing, eyes narrow.

/I smell blood. Quite a bit of it. The stench of that abomination is also strong./

“You can smell the body snatcher? Wouldn’t it just smell like Arthur?” Vivi questions even as she begins trying all the van’s doors in the hope that one is unlocked.

/These creatures are unnatural and they always leave behind aberrations. I suppose ‘smell’ is the wrong word. It would be more akin to recognising energy residue. Most spiritual energy does not originate from the physical plane. Thus, it always leaves behind some sort of stain./

Vivi rubs her forehead. She has questions. Of course, she has questions. Anytime Mystery says anything related to the supernatural she is left with only questions. Vivi files the information away for future contemplation, distracted when the van’s back doors open unexpectedly.

Both her and Mystery pause and glance at each other.

Cautiously, she pulls it fully open and peers in. The first thing she notes is Arthur’s keyring, sitting discarded atop a mess of upturned boxes and camping gear. It looks like it had been tossed aside without thought or care. Arthur always took good care of the van’s keys, carrying them on him at all times, so it immediately strikes her as odd. But then, it isn’t only Arthur that they're dealing with.

“Weird,” She mutters, reaching to pick them up.

/Do not touch that./

She freezes, hand hovering. Mystery leaps up into the van, knocking over an open container of cooking utensils which rattle out onto the rocks, clanking off the hard surface. He sniffs the keys, huffing with disgust.

/It is covered in blood. It has a similar scent to that car. Also, I fear I smell Lance’s blood here as well…/ Mystery flicks the keys with his nose so they clatter to the ground at her feet, turning to clamber around the van, snuffling as he goes.

“Lance’s blood…” Vivi repeats, stomach sinking. There’s a lot of dirt -which probably isn’t dirt- covering the pocket knife Arthur has attached to his keys. Blood.

/Hmmm…this does not appear promising./ Mystery pops out of the van again, holding a piece of cloth in his teeth. He jumps free and drops the fabric onto the ground next to the keyring. She bends to pick it up, pinching a corner so she can lift it without touching anything. It’s one of Arthur’s shirts, apricot in colour, and splattered with darkened brown stains. More blood. She thinks she recognises the shirt as the one he had been wearing at the motel.

/Whoever this second individual is, their smell is all over the van./

Vivi frowns, clenching her fist. “Do you think they’re dead?”

/Most likely./

“…Shit…”

She tosses the shirt back into the van, bending to pick up the keyring, carefully detaching the keys before throwing the pocketknife after the shirt. She slams the doors, breathing heavily, hands resting on the metal. She rides out a sudden wave of nausea threatening her merger lunch. So there had been a third person involved. Probably, this person was someone Arthur knew. Arthur had most likely been an unwilling accessory to the murder of someone he knew. That's not counting being forced to attack his uncle. Poor Arthur. She can’t even imagine what it must have been like. If only she’d got to him faster. If only she’d gone out to help him after Arthur’s fight with Lewis back at the motel. If she’d been with him that morning then she could have stopped him from running off to check his uncle all alone. Instead, she’d decided to stay and console Lewis first. The wrong decision. She’d failed them both.

/Arthur would not have been able to stop this violence. These parasitic creatures are masters of all forms of manipulation./

“I’m not…I wouldn’t blame Arthur. Never,” She hisses. Herself on the other hand….

/Neither is it your fault./ Mystery continues as if reading her mind /You could not have known. I should have been the one to act. I suspected foul play long before it was confirmed./

“You’re the family pet. I’m his best friend. I should have done something sooner.” Her voice sounds uncharacteristically hash even to her own ears. She ignores how Mystery grimaces.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. I need to get rid of this evidence or Arthur’s going to get caught up in whatever ongoing investigation spawns when the police realise that whoever owned that other car is missing.” She still doesn’t know who this person is, and she doesn’t particularly care. Arthur would care probably. She didn’t. Whether they were an employee of Kingsman Mechanics, a friend of Lance’s, some Tempo resident, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was keeping Arthur as safe as possible with what little ability she had and if that meant destroying evidence then so be it.

She takes a breath, energised now she’s sure of her next move.

“We can’t leave the van here. Luckily, no one’s found it yet but we can’t count on that to continue.” As she speaks, she walks back around to the front seat, key in hand. Mystery follows. “There’s a ton of evidence here. Blood splatters, hair fibres, fingerprints. That’s not including Arthur’s pocketknife as a possible murder weapon.”

/You plan to hide the van./

“No. Not good enough. I don’t want this to come back and bite us later.”

She’s done making bad choices. Vivi starts up the engine and the van jerks rattling like it needs some proper maintenance. Arthur would have never let it get into such a state. She ignores the pang of guilt, driving recklessly over the rocks, dirt and sand and back onto the road. For what she has planned, the van wouldn’t need to be in any sort of drivable condition for much longer

“We’ll burn it,” She elaborates once they are back on the highway. “That way, even if it is found, no one will be able to tie it to any missing person case resulting from that thing controlling Arthur. In theory anyway...”

She knows a place that is secluded enough that she would probably be able to get away with setting the van on fire and not draw a ton of attention. A place where she could leave it and not have it immediately discovered. Somewhere that wasn’t so far away meaning it would be possible for her to walk back to the diner with Mystery after she was done.

“Can you cast an illusion big enough to hide the flames?” She is sure she’s acting overly paranoid now but better safe than sorry. Though secluded, the area she’s thinking of is still in view of the road.

/I will have to transform to expand my illusion's range./

“Right.” Vivi glances at Mystery who’s taken his usual position beside her in the front. The concern is still creasing his expression and she quickly refocuses on the road. The last time she had seen Mystery’s kitsune form had been that night. Not a pleasant memory. The sight of Mystery looming over Lewis, all teeth and raw natural fury, glowing bright against an almost black backdrop, had been a constant in the recent spate of nightmares which had spawned from the event. Not that she had slept enough to have many nightmares.

The rest of the trip is silent and, in-between bouts of nervous energy, Vivi can almost pretend she is back with Arthur and Lewis, checking out some new local ghost sighting, laughing and joking. It is a short-lived reprieve as she is quickly turning into the small clearing, sandwiched between rock formations and overlooking a three-meter drop into a small ravine. Supposedly, the area was haunted by some disgruntled cattle rustler, run afoul of the law, chased into the ravine during ye-oldie times. She feels silly thinking back on how serious she’d taken that investigation.

“Was any of this stuff anywhere near real?” She asks, driving the van as close the edge as possible.

/ I believe most occurrences of the supernatural, as humans understand it, are merely echoes of past interference./ Mystery scans the cliffs, /If there was any otherworldly influence here, it has long faded./

“I guess that makes sense.” She mutters, distracted as she eyes the vegetation around her. It is sparse, so she doesn’t think it’ll be much of a fire hazard.

“You’ll be able to stop this from spreading and starting any other fires, right?”

Mystery hums to himself and begins to glow. Particles of light cling to his coat like dust motes, fading into the air around him. Unlike that night, the transformation is smooth, air shimmering and flowing over his physical form like water as he expanded to take up more space. Five tails fan out, splitting away from each other, opening like the petals of a flower before swaying languidly from side to side in an almost hypnotic pattern.

/In this form I can stifle the flames if they become too much or contain the fire within a barrier./

Her breath catches and she nods stiffly, barely hearing him, too focused on how Mystery’s eyes flash bright red when he speaks. Bright, brilliant, red. Her hesitation is spotted and Mystery lowers head and tails, making himself smaller.

/I frighten you?/

Maybe it’s the lack of life-threatening conditions but Mystery's presence is not as dominating as it had been that night. There is less force behind his voice. Less raw anger. Even his tails seam to sag like they are taking on too much weight.

/I am sorr…/

“Save it…” She interrupts what was sure to be another in a long line of empty apologies, “Just… stand a bit over there, okay.”

Mystery seems to deflate further, wilting like a dying plant wanting for rain. The anxiety in her chest loosens ever so slightly.

With only the slightest hint of further hesitation, she begins riffling through the van's camping gear, pulling out a small jerrycan of fuel and dumping it out over the vehicle's interior. Next, she’s digging around for the fire starters and any spare lighter fluid to increase flammability. Out comes the blue zippo lighter with cool snowflake patterning. She holds it indecisively, flipping it open. The small flame dances, bright in the night-time. Funnily, this will be the first time she uses this lighter. First and last.

This was it. Goodbye van. The van that had been a feature of her friendship with Arthur and Lewis for almost as long as she’d known them.

"Sorry Arthur.” Another apology for the collection.

She throws the lighter through the van’s open back doors. The fuel catches and flames spring up, spreading quickly. Soon, long tongues of fire are licking at the windows. A series of small cracks appear in the glass, spiderwebbing out. The heat is intense and she backs away so as not to accidentally burn herself. Sounds of snapping and popping echo in the ravine, the noise trapped by the rocks and cliffs. Vivi watches the interior of the van blacken, metal reddening and warping. Dark smoke twists upward and disappears into the night.

Note: An update in honour of the new MSA: Future :) Enjoy!

Part 41: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #time travel #hellbent au #Vivi Yukino #Mystery the dog #sort of compliant with future i guess #in that i guessed a few things right #msa au #Vivi angst #vivi and mystery #sad and angry vivi #rip arthur's van

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evolutionsvoid · 3 years

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If one has read through my previous entries on Slimes, you should know by now that they are an incredibly adaptable and versatile species. Though they are just a heart and a pseudobody, their special signals and incredible slime allow them to create a variety of shapes and forms. From sticky Flayers who cover themselves in adhesive goo and bone shards, to volatile Fire Slimes that secrete flammable liquids and use gathered flint to light it all aflame! It is no surprise that this species has thrived and spread for so long! However, at times this versatility can lead to some issues. Like any other beast, Slimes are susceptible to parasites, disease and the ravages of time. Horrible things that can mess with their minds and hijack their signals. When a Slime is struck by one of these terrible fates, you either wish for a speedy recovery or a merciful death. Cruel as it sounds, things can become a real problem when these illnesses choose to linger. Be it parasite or virus, one can take over the form of a Slime and turn them into something even worse. I have written about Slime Dragons before, and how those abominations come to be. To quickly recap, Slime colonies tend to have buried networks of elder hearts that aid in reproduction and knowledge transfer. Slimes can physically connect to these networks to share nutrients, information or transfer their young. In most cases, these networks get along just fine, but age can start to wear on the oldest of hearts. As the decades pass by, an elder heart may start to degrade and fail. Most cases end with these dying organs being put of their misery and absorbed, but there are rare instances where the network is too late in realizing this weakness. In extreme cases, a fading heart may start to produce a "rotted signal," a droning message that is simple and infectious. Slimes use signals generated by their hearts to control their goo and communicate with others. They can share signals with one another without a problem, but rotted signals are not so kind. Due to their nature, these signals are capable of overwriting the signals of other Slimes and causing their hearts to pump out the same infectious message. All Slimes who come in contact with an infected heart or pseudobody will be hijacked and added to the collective. Slime Dragons are beasts that can result from a rotted signal taking over, but they are only one outcome for this dire situation. You see, a rotted signal is not just gibberish or useless noise, it often is a normal message that a Slime would use that has become corrupted. For Slime Dragons, the signal that births them is the same signal Slimes use when they are hungry or look to feed. It is a blaring message to consume that takes them over and creates this gluttonous monstrosity. So that means a different signal can lead to a different outcome, which is where the Slime's versatility takes a cruel turn. For each type of rotted signal, their is a corresponding abomination that is born from it, and each is specially equipped to bring a whole lot of misery and destruction. The diseased amalgamation I wish to write about today is known as the Mind Sink. While it is a network that has succumbed to an infection like a Slime Dragon, it is quite different from those slithering, hungering brutes. Their congealed and hardening slime will form skittering legs, and a bizarre frame. While its outside has grown dark and thickened by the corrupted fusion of so many Slimes, within this brittle cage will form a gooey writhing core. Here is where the infested hearts lie, and from there comes a multitude of flailing tendrils and snaring tentacles. I imagine it is a freaky sight to behold, and one I have thankfully never witnessed! The Mind Sink is one of these abominations I am most disturbed by, as it hungers for something more than flesh! The signal that becomes corrupted is the one Slimes will use to transfer knowledge to one another. It is a message that kind of says "can I copy your notes?" which the other Slime will agree to and they will share their information. When it grows foul, though, this message does not ask for permission. Rather, it becomes more of theft than a collaboration, as the infested Slimes mindlessly drain the information out of the victim. Slimes that are caught by these serpentine limbs will immediately be linked to the corrupted network and they will begin to draw out all their knowledge. In moments, the Slime will be emptied of all their information and thoughts, and will instead start to pump out the rotted signal. They will be pulled into the core and will join their infested brethren, ready to seek out the next victim. I know some may think that it is a rough process for the Slimes, and to that I must make a correction. It is a rough process for everyone, because the Mind Sink does not just prey on its own.

It has been thought that the signals from a Slime's heart shares some similarities with the signals our brains create. While that is a whole field of study and wondering I am not well versed in, I can say that Mind Sink has given us a bit of confirmation on that. Mind Sinks not only hunger for the knowledge of their fellow Slimes, but they will target other creatures as well. Doesn't matter if it is man, beast or thinking plant, if it has a brain or a similar organ, it wants inside. Non-Slimes who are seized by a Mind Sink's arms will be entangled and immobilized in its grip. Coils of slime will pin their limbs in a cocoon, and slithering tendrils will seek out the source of the victim's thoughts. They somehow have a way of pinpointing the location of the brain and, once they do, they find the quickest way to access it. The point of entry is usually a facial orifice, be it nose, mouth, ears or eyes. They will burrow to the brain and the corrupted goop will make physical contact. From there, it will hijack the signals and quickly learn how to manipulate the organ, giving it access to their memories, knowledge and life experiences. With the mental feast now ready, the Mind Sink will say "I will have everything!" and start to drain. So far it has not been found if there is any order to what it consumes first, or if there is any logic behind it. Like a whirlpool, it just sucks in whatever it can. The mind will be siphoned away by this hungering mass, and the victim is quite powerless to do anything about it. When your brain is taken over by a gooey monstrosity, you aren't exactly in the right state of mind to fight back. Due to the difference between Slimes and species like us, the brain draining process takes much longer. Think of it like trying to transcribe an entire book in a language you don't understand. Yeah, you can do it by just copying the symbols, but it will take you longer. It appears that it takes a few minutes for a fleshy or plant-based victim to be fully emptied, and then they will simply be tossed aside. Those that fall to this awful fate will not have much of a mind left. Memories will be gone, any knowledge or skills they had will be wiped out and their own thoughts will be a scrambled mess due to the brutal takeover their brain experienced. Most become comatose, while some may flop around like a fish and babble nonsense. It is a truly horrible thing, and a cure or remedy has yet to be found. Due to how much longer it takes to fully feed off a victim, one can be saved from the grasp of a Mind Sink before they are truly lost. If one can sever the tendril that holds the prisoner and cut them off from the network, the slime will collapse in a useless heap. The connection with their brain will end and so will the drain. It should be noted that freeing a victim from a hungering tendril is just the first step, because the Mind Sink has a dozen more and it will be eager to reclaim its prize. Best to grab them the second they are let go and run as fast as you can! Severing this link before the mind can be fully consumed is certainly a good thing, but damages will still occur. It depends on how long they were being fed on, as that decides how much was removed from the brain. Those that were held for only a few moments won't notice too much of a difference after they have rested and recovered, but some things will certainly be lost. Probably a handful of distant memories and mental tidbits were taken, but they won't notice their absence right away. Those fed upon for longer will have patchy memory loss, temporary issues with physical functions and scattered thoughts. It will be like someone took the book of their life and ripped out random pages. Thankfully, the book will mostly remain, so that means recovery is possible. Physical therapy will be required for any functions that were damaged by the hijacking, and the mind will need some help too. Not only will they need to relearn lost skills and forgotten memories, but their mind will need to recoup as well. Meditation, therapy and other calming activities are needed to help them stabilize their thoughts and reorganize their scattered mental archives. Recovery is not the fastest thing, but time and patience will help heal the wounds and fill the gaps torn in their heads. No doubt now that it has become obvious that Mind Sinks are incredibly dangerous and need to be exterminated whenever they rise. These are diseased amalgamations that will cause untold damage and tragedy as long as they are alive, and there does not seem to be any peaceful way to resolve their rampage. Like Slime Dragons, the way to bring down these monstrosities is to target the original heart that is creating the rotted signal. That is where the signal is originating from, and the other hearts are merely mimicking it. Kill the source and the others will soon fall silent, causing the fusion to fall apart. When it perishes, all the other Slimes are set free, but they won't be the same as they were before they were assimilated. All the knowledge they had was taken by the Mind Sink, and where all that information goes is quite random. As far as we know, all that it absorbs is held in a condensed mess of noise and thoughts that is shared by all the consumed hearts. Its mind eating abilities may make it seem like it can take memories and knowledge then use them against their foes, but that isn't the case. They do not weaponize what they take, they don't even seem to pay the stolen information any mind. Their own mind is like a garbage can, and anything they get their tendrils on is just chucked inside without a second thought. They don't want to use it or interpret it, they just want it. So with all this knowledge shoved into one mangled ball of mental energy, there is no telling what belongs to who or who belongs to what! When the Mind Sink is terminated, all that knowledge is fractured and dumped randomly into the freed hearts. The Slimes who emerge from the collapsed amalgamation will have a stew of memories and thoughts that are not their own. Some will be completely different from before, while some will be fumbling with the fractured mess they have been given. Not only will they be mixed up with their own selves, but there can also be a whole bunch of information that was stolen from non-Slimes that is now stuck in them! Some may be in bits and pieces, while some Slimes can have whole chunks of a person's life inside them! There is a tale that has gone around about a monster slayer going out to kill a rampaging Mind Sink. He failed to defeat the beast and was consumed by it, but eventually someone brought it down. What was brought back to his family was an empty shell, and they cared for him in this comatose state. The family prayed that one day he would get better, that somehow his mind and faculties would return. One morning, his wife heard someone walking around the house and his voice started to call for her. Believing that a miracle had been granted, she rushed to him only to find him still in his bed and still in a coma. What walked in to greet her in her husband's voice was a Slime, who had somehow wound up with a big chunk of his memories and personality. I personally don't think this story is true, because the ending to this tale has several different versions. Some say she took the Slime as a replacement for her husband, while others say she killed it in horror on the spot. I have heard some say that the Slime returned all the memories to the comatose husband and he was cured, but that one is certainly fake. It would be nice if that could happen, but Slimes are incapable of putting things into our heads like that. Our minds are like colorful sandpaintings, and the Mind Sink just reached in and yanked out handfuls of it. Can you just take those fistfuls and put them back so easily? I say that about returning memories and how that is impossible, but then I remember that there is an exception to that: the Slimes themselves. While they can come out all scrambled, it is possible for the Slimes to rearrange themselves back into facsimiles of their old selves. Slimes can already transfer stuff to one another, so they could puzzle out what parts belong to who and then sort them out. I have no clue how you can tell if a memory is yours or not, but then again, I don't have the ability to copy and share my brain (I wish I did, though! It would make teaching so much easier)! So Slimes can return what was lost between them, but they will still wind up with pieces of non-Slime information. What they do with this is unknown and up to who wields it, but some believe that Slimes have gained portions of their knowledge by recovering stolen thoughts from a Mind Sink. Supposedly an ancient Mind Sink fed upon human settlements and was finally slain, and the Slimes that emerged claimed all the knowledge and skills of its victims. Could it have happened? Maybe. Do I believe it? No, because I do not like the light it paints Slimes in. The theory is essentially saying they stole all their knowledge and wisdom from others, and proposes that they couldn't have come across this any other way. Seems more like it is derogatory towards Slimes than it is trying to learn more about them. Doesn't help that the people I have met who believe this theory have all kind of been jerks towards Slimes. After all this talk about Mind Sinks and their horrific abilities, I bet some think that I can offer tips on how to kill one. In truth, I got nothing. Take out the original rotted heart and the rest falls apart. How do you do that? Not really my department there. I am a researcher not a warrior, and I personally don't want to be anywhere near one of these things. As someone who has spent years learning and seeking knowledge, the concept of a brain-sucking monster is absolutely terrifying to me. All my experiences, all my work drained away in minutes, reducing me to a mindless vegetable! No thank you! I like my thoughts right where they are, and I got enough of a scatter brain already! The only way I want to share my knowledge is through my writings and teachings! Read my life's work, don't yank it out of my skull! Speaking of that, I better watch my tongue. Enough talk about a mind-wiping monster and Eucella might hire one and sic it on me. It would be way easier to chop up my writings and sell a book if I was brainless idiot! Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian - You know I read these, right? This is not helping your case in the slightest. And also you might want to drop the "if" and change the "was" on the brainless idiot part. - Eucella - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slimes, Slimes, I love Slimes!

#slime #slimes #goop #goo #monster #creature #brain #art #drawing

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rohad93 · 4 years

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Moonlit Masquerade: Sandcastles

Pt 6 of the Moonlit Masquerade Series

It’s Monday after lunch and Luz is trying to coerce her locker into spitting out her books. Beast keeping doesn’t usually require any, it’s more hands on learning, like how to properly feed a baby chimera or how to pull infected or molting scales of a hydra without the other heads eating you. Her afternoon potions class on the other hand requires several, it's arguably one of the more technical and dangerous tracks… in regards to consequences for the user if you mess up anyway. Or in some cases, the whole class. It wasn’t uncommon for the potions hall to be evacuated because someone mixed something with the wrong thing.

“Just give me the book!” She shakes her fists at the creature as it glares down at her, growling. She growls back and the creature only grumbles at her before it finally opens its mouth and she pulls the book out with a yank and gives it the stink eye.

“Give that locker what for!”

“You sure showed it.” A pair of familiar voices laugh and Luz turns to find the Blight twins standing behind her grinning.

“Oh, hey guys, what’s up?” She knows the twins well enough after two months of dating their sister that they are here for a reason. Everything they do has a purpose, even if that purpose is just to get a laugh or mercilessly tease Amity.

“It’s about Amity,” Emira starts.

“We need your help,” Edric finishes, and both twins look so uncharacteristically serious that her mind jumps to the worst possible conclusions.

“What is it, what’s wrong!?” She drops her book, eyes wide as they switch wildly between the two older teens. The twins jerk, realizing that maybe they came off a little too serious, but for once they are serious.

“Whoa, whoa, nothing is wrong.” Emira holds up her hands to calm her.

“Yeah, everything is fine.” Edric sets a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“You looked so serious, you scared me…” Luz holds a hand over her rapidly beating heart. It was too early in the week for this. Usually something terrifying didn’t happen until at least Wednesday…

“Sorry,” Edric chuckles. “This is serious, just not…,” he trails off.

“The life threatening kind of serious you’re used to getting yourself into…,” Emira finishes for him with a laugh.

“Oh, well, what is it?”

“Well, you know this Saturday is Mittens birthday…," Edric starts.

“What!?” Luz is panicked again, but now for a very different reason. “I didn’t know this weekend was her birthday!”

“Really?” the twins ask in unison.

“She’s never said anything…” Luz’s words are muffled as she drags her hands down her cheeks. What kind of girlfriend is she when she doesn’t know when Amity’s birthday is?!

The twins share a glance, before turning back to the internally… and outwardly panicking human.

“This is why we need your help,” Edric says.

“Huh?” Luz looks between them.

The two glance around the hall and finding it’s mostly empty, turn back to her.

“We know that Amity tells you everything, like about…” Emira makes a face, hesitating, but Edric doesn’t.

“Our family, we know she’s talked to you about our messed up family,” he says quietly with a frown.

“Oh…” Luz says. “yeah...” She nods.

“Well, then we shouldn’t need to tell you that our birthdays are used so that our parents…”

“Mom,” Emira coughs into her hand, as though trying to cover up the word.

“... use our birthday parties to show off to their work friends and acquaintances… it’s not really about us…” The older boy crosses his arms and frowns. Emira shares a similar look.

It makes sense to her, of course she knew Amity wasn’t the only one just trying to get by living under her mother’s thumb, but she never expected the twins to even mention it to her.

“So, they usually suck and the guest list is full of people important to them and their work, not us, and isn’t even usually on our birthdays, just close enough to it that works with their schedules…” Emira also crosses her arms and the bitterness in her voice is clear to Luz as Amity’s had been and she feels for all the Blight siblings, she really does.

“The fact that Amity didn’t even tell YOU about her birthday? Yeah, I think that says it all,” Edric says. “We had Amity’s ‘party’...” he finger quotes and rolls his eyes. “...Sunday, but this coming Saturday is her actual birthday…”

“We have a plan to celebrate.” Emira grins at her. “...and we need your help.” she points at Luz with a grin.

“I’m in!” Luz jumps, pumping a fist. She doesn’t even need to know what the twins are planning or what she needs to do, she’ll do it! Anything to make Amity’s birthday special for the first time since she was a kid.

Both twins grin brightly at her. They know the surefire way to ensure their sister has an actually happy birthday is to get her girlfriend involved. The two have been watching carefully over the last two months, and Amity is the happiest they can ever remember her being since their parents made her stop being friends with Willow, and they know it’s because of Luz.

“So what’s the plan?” Luz looks between the two.

“We’ve been extra good and diligent in our studies the last two weeks…,” Edric says, holding his clasped hands to his cheeks and bats his eyes.

“No pranks of anything…” Emira follows his lead.

“So that we could ask our parents’ to let us take Mittens, and use the beach house this weekend while their out of town again on business, and they said yes.” Edric is grinning

“What they don’t know is that we’re going to be throwing Mittens a surprise birthday party there.” Emira grins too.

"There's no school Friday, so it'll be a whole weekend long bash. We'll get there Friday afternoon and leave the same time Sunday," Edric explains their plan.

“That sounds awesome!” Luz grins, bouncing with excitement.

"We're glad you think so, we need your help with some of the planning," Edric says.

"Whatever you need, I am on it!" Luz hooks her thumb into her chest. She is determined to help make this the best birthday Amity has ever had.

"We figured you know who she hangs out with best, so we thought we'd leave who to invite to you." Emira smiles, setting a hand on her hip.

"Well…," Luz trails off thinking. "She only really ever hangs out with me Gus and Willow…," she screws up her mouth thinking.

Amity has all but abandoned Boscha and her crew, which is for the better she thinks.

"Then just invite them." Edric shrugs.

"Yeah, it doesn't have to be a big party, with a bunch of people that are hardly even acquaintances. Mittens had plenty of that Sunday." Emira rolls her eyes.

"Okay, I'll talk to them." Luz nods.

"Great, one more thing. We're putting you in charge of the cake. Me and Ed will take care of feeding everyone for the weekend and all the little things."

"Think you can handle it?" He leans forward with a teasing grin.

"I won't let you or Amity down!" Luz declares and then the bell is screaming.

"Alright, well we better get to class, we’ll message you the details. See ya, Luz." The twins wave as they walk off toward the illusion track hall.

Luz hurries to potions as she pulls out her scroll and sends a message in her Willow and Gus's group chat with the twins plan before switching it over to her and Amity's private one and sends her a quick message that she won't be able to hang out after school. Eda needs her home, which, yeah, is a lie, but it's for a good cause!

It's hard to concentrate on her potions work when her mind is buzzing with thoughts of the coming weekend.

The cake is arguably one of the most important things and the twins put her in charge of it. She already knows what she needs to do.

When the teacher is preoccupied she checks her scroll to find both Willow And Gus have sent back enthusiastic yeses to the invitations. While she's looking at the scroll it makes a quiet 'ping' and a message pops to the top, from Amity.

"Okay, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Luz grins at her phone as she types back a response.

"Oh, texting in class… that's not very 'top student' behavior, Miss Blight."

It only takes a few seconds for a reply to come in.

"Look who's talking."

Luz grins to herself and starts tapping.

Across the school in the abomination track hall Amity has her book held up to cover her scroll, waiting for Luz's reply that she's sure is coming.

"I've never, in any world, claimed to be the top student, maybe the middle."

Amity rolls her eyes but before she can reply another message comes in.

"But I'll happily settle for dating the smartest girl in school. <3"

Amity's face pinks and she hunkers down farther behind her book as the teacher drones on about the proper stance for abomination summoning. Something she's already covered in her personal time.

Luz is quite pleased with herself, knowing by the long pause that somewhere, on the other side of the school, Amity is probably turning a pretty shade of pink.

She's just about to put her scroll away when it pings again, the quiet sound unnoticeable over all the boiling potions in class.

She taps the message and reads, and now it's her turn to turn color.

"Then I guess I'll just have to content myself with dating the sweetest girl in school. See you tomorrow, xoxo"

As her face burns, Luz both loves and regrets teaching Amity human texting lingo. The girl is going to kill her, and right in the middle of class.

When the final bell sounds for the day Luz makes a straight shot for the owl house. She would have gone straight to town to do what she needs to do but she doesn't have any money on her.

She says quick hellos to everyone as she runs by, going straight to her room and changing before taking some snails out of the small savings jars she started. More often than not Eda's potion clients tip her when she brings their deliveries, and she's started to hold onto it. Eda calls it her 'date money jar’ and Luz can't really argue with that. She mostly uses it when she and Amity go on dates, which, since they can't be seen together very often out in town by themselves, lest someone they know from school see them, she rarely dips into it.

This is a special occasion though, and she's spending it on Amity anyway.

Money firmly in her pocket she hurries back down the stairs and shoots out the door with a call that she's going to town and will be back before dinner.

Leaves crunch under her feet as she runs down the path to town.

Luz has learned that Amity actually has quite the sweet tooth, but one thing she likes more than anything is treats made out of thornberries.

She rounds the corner to stop in front of Amity's favorite bakery and freezes, stomach dropping.

It's closed and a sign hangs in the window.

'gone on vacation, back in two weeks.'

The date on the bottom is from yesterday to well after Amity's birthday.

"Now what am I gonna do?" she mumbles to herself. There aren't any other bakeries in Bonesburough that sell Thornberry baked goods.

She goes home, dejected.

Hooty tries to talk to her but she just nods to whatever he's rambling about as she walks into the house.

Luz walks into the kitchen and plops into a chair at the table next to Lilith, who's is flipping through a book and sighs.

"Hey, kid, what's got you lookin like someone died?" Eda looks up at her as she mixes potions on the counter.

She sighs again and explains how the twins had approached her after lunch.

"Bakery's closed, huh? Tough luck," Eda says, pouring some things into the pot and Luz watches her for a minute before she has an idea.

"Maybe I could bake a cake?" She sits up.

"Sure, why not." Eda shrugs. "Kitchens yours to use if you want."

"Can you help me?" she asks and Eda grimaces.

"Eh, you'd probably be better off on your own, I was never much of a baker," she admits.

Lilith snorts, finally looking up from her book.

"That's putting it mildly. When we were girls you almost burned down the kitchen trying to make bramblewheat bread."

"Happens." Eda shrugged, turning back to her pot. "You'd be better off asking Lilly, she was the baker."

Luz turns to the other Clawthorne sister with wide eyes.

"You bake?" she asks, wonder coloring her words.

"I... dabbled a little when I was younger, she admits and Eda snorts from across the room.

"When we were kids she used to enter baking competitions all the time, and won quite a few of them too, cakes were your specialty." She directs the last part at Lilith, whose face colors a little at the words.

"Can you help me?"

Lilith looks at the child who is looking at her with large, pleading eyes and knows she can't refuse. Mostly because she knows that she still has atonements to make to both her sister and Luz for what she did to them, and she has grown fond of Luz, but the look is hard to ignore too. Like a cerberus puppy.

Eda is grinning to herself from the other side of the kitchen, knowing that her sister isn't going to refuse.

"Very well. What kind of cake did you have in mind?"

"Thornberry" Luz answers immediately and Lilith cocks a brow at that.

"An unusual choice…," she hums, tapping her index finger to her chin as she regards Luz.

"Thornberry is Amity's favorite. When we go to the bakery she always gets Thornberry tarts or muffins," she explains and Lilith hums, thinking.

"We can make a thornberry cake… but you won't find them in town. It's not something people commonly use, the Redstone bakery is famous for them for that reason. We would have to go and pick them ourselves," she explains.

"Okay, where do I need to go," she asks and Lilith chuckles..

"I'm afraid this won't be a quick jaunt to a nearby section of the woods. Thornberrys grow only on the knee."

"Oh..."

"If thornberries are what you want we will have to leave first thing in the morning for the knee." Lilith declares.

"I have school tomorrow…," Luz starts, but Eda snorts.

"Pfft, school, schmool. That can wait." Eda waves a hand.

"While I also believe your education is important…," Lilith begins, pointedly looking at Eda out of the corner of her eye. "We will need to prepare the berries which can take a few days, and you only have until Friday morning; it will have to be tomorrow.."

Tomorrow is Tuesday, she has abominations on Tuesday with Amity, but this is for Amity, and there will be other Tuesdays. It doesn't take more than a second for Luz to decide.

"We leave at dawn!" Luz proclaimed, thrusting her fist into the air.

"That's my girl!" Eda points at her with a grin and Lilith rolls her eyes but can't help but smile at the two.

They leave at dawn the next day, much to Luz's chagrin.

She hadn't meant literally… she'd just really always wanted to say that…

The ride on Lilith’s staff is chilly and the knees biting winter like winds bite at her face.

On the way she sends Amity an apologetic text, saying that Eda needed her to go with her to gather ingredients for potions.

She can tell by the short return text that she's disappointed, but it's for a good cause. Luz is going to do whatever she needs to do to make sure her girlfriend has the best birthday possible, come hell or high water.

The knee is even colder than she remembers now that fall has begun to settle over the Isles.

She and Lilith track through the woods in knee deep snow, foraging.

"Thornberries are oblong, dark red with black stems and leaves and covered in thorns; they only grow in this area of the knee," Lilith tells her as they search the woods for the elusive bushes.

"Red berries, black leaves…," Luz repeats to herself as she weeds through the underbrush of the forest, weaving between the trees, leaving no bush or rock unturned.

They search for two hours, but so far they have nothing to show for their efforts other than red ears and noses from being exposed to the cold.

Luz sighs to herself frustrated. She hasn’t seen one single red berry or even a hint of the black plant.

Lilith keeps searching ahead of them While Luz turns to search another section of trees, splitting up to cover more ground seems like the logical thing to do.

She shoves her way through some scraggly, thorny plants, though not the ones she’s looking for, muttering under her breath. Her nose is numb and her cheeks feel raw, buffeted by the cold winds of the knee.

She shoves some tall bushes out of her way and glances around, freezing at the sight in front of her.

About twenty yards away, is a small field full of black plants with shiny red berries.

And sleeping curled up in the snow near them, is a Slitherbeast, snoring loudly.

Stiffly, with eyes wide, Luz backs out of the bushes.

“Lilith… Lilith!” She hisses in a loud whisper over her shoulder, but stops. There is no way Lilith is going to allow them to pick berries so close to a sleeping Slitherbeast.

Luz frowns, fist tightening on the empty burlap sacks in her hand.

She needs those berries…

Luz swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry as she quietly pushes through the bushes and with the slowest, most careful steps she’s ever taken, makes her way over to the plants. She glances at the Slitherbeast, still snoring peacefully as she crouches down, wincing at the sound of the snow crunching under her boots as she does. She doesn’t think her heartbeat has ever been as loud as it is right now, A heavy staccato rhythm in her ears.

With careful fingers she begins pulling berries off the plant as quickly and quietly as she can. When this one is picked clean she moves to the next and repeats the process, glancing over at the sleeping creature every minute or so. She’s not paying attention for a second and thorns dig into her bare fingertips.

“Ow!” She yelps and immediately slaps her mouth shut, eyes whipping to the Slitherbeast, its snoring hitches for a moment before returning to evenness and Luz breathes a silent sigh of relief before she goes back to collecting berries as fast as she can.

One of her bags is full, a second is nearly full, and she’s picked about half the bushes clean. She has no idea how many they need and if she’s going to put herself in mortal danger for this she may as well go for broke.

“Luz!” Lilith’s voice cuts through the trees and Luz freezes.

The bushes begin to rustle and Luz whips around in time to see Lilith break through the line of underbrush.

She freezes upon seeing the Slitherbeast, still sleeping nearby and looks between it and Luz, eyes wide before an outraged look comes over her face and she silently points down at the ground in front of her.

The message is clear.

'get over here!'

Luz tiptoes with her bags of berries carefully over to Lilith, but a rock, covered in snow is her undoing.

She can't help but call out as she slips and tumbles face forward into the snow and something else if the pain they erupts from her forehead is anything to go by.

A screeching roar makes her jump up much more quickly than normal and grab her bags, hightailing it toward Lilith, who is now flying toward her on her staff.

Luz jumps on, almost over shooting it and flinging herself over the staff, but a hand fisted into the back of her coat steadies her as they fly away from the Slitherbeast that gives up on chasing them after only a few seconds.

"Whew, that was close…," she breathes.

"What were you thinking?!" Lilith is scowling at her over her shoulder. "That creature could have easily killed you."

"I needed the berries!" Luz yelped, holding up the two filled sacs.

"Ugh..." Lilith slapped a hand to her forehead as they flew away from the knee. She turned back to say something else but saw the blood running down Luz's face from her forehead. It seemed like quite a bit of blood.

"Your bleeding…"

"Huh?" Luz reached up and winced as her fingers touched her forehead over her left eye. She winced and pulled her hand away to find her fingertips covered in blood.

"Well that's not good…”

Lilith pushes her staff faster toward home.

Eda is not pleased when they get back and blood has dripped down half of Luz’s face though she doesn’t seem to be suffering or badly hurt.

They clean off her face and it’s a decent cut, but nothing serious. Luz just shrugs and explains that forehead cuts just bleed a lot, at least on humans.

Eda slaps a white gauze bandage on her forehead and calls it good. Luz hurries to the kitchen where Lilith is washing the bags of berries.

“What do we do first?” Luz looks up at Lilith as she finishes washing them.

“First, you dry these,” she instructs, handing Luz the large bowl full of them. "We’re going to cook them down into jam to use between the layers of cake.

"How do you make jam?" Luz asked, looking up from the wet, shiny, red fruit to gaze at Lilith, brown eyes wide with wonder and the elder Clawthorne sister can't help but smile.

"I'll show you."

The rest of the day is spent making and canning jars of thornberry jam and talking about baking and magic.

Eda is her magical mentor, but Lilith knows more, even if Eda was more powerful by Lilith's own admission, she actually finished school and her years in the emperor's coven had given her access to the castle's vast library full of books about all manner of magic.

She can better explain the theory and technicalities of certain magics better than Eda could.

She has a precise and easy way of explaining things that reminds her of Amity, which makes sense, Amity used to study under Lilith; though now they hardly speak.

Amity had to come clean shortly after their month anniversary about having come to speak to Lilith that day in the market one day when Luz suggested they hang out with the elder Clawthorne for some magical tutoring.

She still hasn't forgiven Lilith for what she'd done to her or to Luz. She knew Lilith was trying, but she wasn't ready to forgive.

She wasn't sure how her girlfriend would feel about it, but Luz said as much to Lilith who listens quietly, intently, frowning, and when Luz is done she just nods knowingly.

"Amity is a proud girl, and after you told us about her family life it’s easy to understand why she can't forgive me," she finally says, accepting, and Luz frowns.

"But you're trying!" Luz argues." She respects her girlfriend's feelings, but seeing Amity upset about her old mentor doesn't make sense to Luz when it's so obvious that Lilith wants to make amends and do better. "I forgave you, and you kidnapped and tried to kill me!" She throws up her hands. Both sisters make uncomfortable faces at that.

"You are…" Lilith hesitates.

"You're a freak of nature when it comes to kindness, Kid," Eda says. "Almost no one is as kind as you, and even most people who are would have a hard time forgiving someone who tried to make a shish kabob out of them." Eda adds her two snails from the kitchen table where she's drinking apple blood out of her 'thirty & flirty' mug and Lilith makes a face but doesn't argue. "Your girlfriend has trust issues with adults,” she says, taking a loud slurp from the cup. "Just look at what you're doing, the look-alikes are having to throw her a completely separate and secret birthday party because their parents use theirs for influence-mongering," Eda growls.

She might give them a hard time and tease them, but Luz knows Eda likes Amity, and is becoming just as protective of her girlfriend as she is of Luz.

Lilith nods.

"Amity is accustomed to being betrayed, manipulated and lied to by the people she is supposed to be able to trust. I broke her trust, so earning it back will take time and work on my part." She then smiles at Luz and hesitates a moment before reaching out to pat the girl's head. "I know you have forgiven me, but I do not yet feel I have earned that forgiveness, and until I do, I will work to earn hers and be worthy of yours. Yours, Amity's and…" Her dual colored eyes flicker over Luz's head to where Eda is sitting at the kitchen table, watching silently with the same eyes.

Whatever long talks the sisters have had about this subject, Luz has not been privy to, and for once she knows better than to ask. Sometimes, things are still quite tense between the two and Luz can't tell what is just sibling bickering or… something else.

"...this is something I must do." Lilith picks up where she left off.

"But I…," she starts.

"That's enough, Luz." Eda's unusually serious voice cuts her off and Luz hunkers down.

"Okay…," she mumbles. Lilith smiles and pats her head again.

"If someday, Amity would like to learn from me again I would be glad to teach her. She has incredible potential and is a very apt and studious girl." Lilith shifts the conversation back to a topic that is always a surefire way to perk Luz up and keep her talking; her girlfriend.

"I know… she was upset last week when she got a A- on our abominations test... I'd kill for a C in abominations!" Luz throws up her hands in exasperation.

"Eh, you'll figure it out before you know it, and then those ugly, goopy things will be all over the house," Eda huffs with a wave of her hand.

"I agree." Lilith nods and Luz looks up at her, surprised. "You don't have an inherent affinity for magic, but where you are naturally lacking you make up for in tenacity and ingenuity." She smiles down at her.

"That's what makes you better, Kid. You work for it," Eda agrees with a grin.

Luz can't help but grin too at the praise.

They finish turning all the berries save a few into jam and store them in the fridge. They need to sit for a couple of days.

One thing they do have in the Isles that Luz is familiar with, oddly enough, is vanilla and it far more readily available then thornberries. They decide to make the layers of the cake vanilla with thornberry jam on top and between the layers.

With the cake well on it’s way Luz only has one thing left to do.

She needs to figure out just what exactly she’s going to give Amity for her birthday.

#Moonlit Masquerade #lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #fic #toh #the owl house

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ofgoodmenarchive · 3 years

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The fifth in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Saving Time

“What were you thinking!-” Dorian punctuated his statement by kicking the rarely-used cooking pot. It soared through the murk of their cave and barely missed his shadow- ducking with a hiss.

“You- under-handed!- Witless!-” He struggled for words, fists clenching and unclenching. “Vile! Stupid!”

Lacking more projectiles, Dorian couldn't restrain his hands from tossing fire. Granted, none of the flares could harm the demon- their bond nullified any damage either might attempt. Still, it gratified him somewhat to observe the instinctive floundering.

“I told you to leave it to me!” He berated without reserve, merciless even as his living silhouette coiled, openly sulking against the rugged stone.

“Were you trying to scare him off?! Because that's all you'll do- or did you forget?! Did we not already have this exact discussion?!”

Not responding directly, it instead deflated into itself with a pitiful wheeze. Yet Dorian understood- he had after all, been privy to the basics of it's exchange with Lavellan- though lacking much detail. He thusly responded, still incensed;

“Well, what were you expecting?! He wasn't even prepared!- You didn't give me time to warn him! You're lucky you didn't scare him to death- no, more than that! You're lucky he didn't send his people to raze the bloody hillside!”

His shadow echoed this dismay- though more pathetically. Tossing it's head back with an inhuman but somehow childish wail. Desire communicated it's own distress and feelings of rejection like a kicked feline.

“STOP THAT! STOP YOWLING!” Dorian ordered, feet-stamping in his impatience. “I-once-again-must-ask-you- WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING?!”

Finally choosing to answer, Desire waved it's arms in a show of upset defeat.

“Name!- His name!”

“WHAT ABOUT HIS BLOODY NAME?!”

Hunching in surrender- as if realising, to some extent, how foolish it's thinking was- Desire grumbled.

“If his name is ours....then he is ours...”

“WHAT?!” His confusion and outrage intensified. “Are you stupid?! THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

It shooed him off with a growl, arms folding impetuously

“....He is Dalish- 'Eldest Lavellan'...It works that way.”

“Stop it!” Kicking pebbles, Dorian continued to scold. “Stop looking into his mind! Stop thinking you know what you're doing!- Just STOP!”

His shadow shrank into the corner, glowering but unable to think of an argument. Lavellan after all, hadn't given the creature his name- whatever notions it had of promptly 'claiming' the elf had been dashed. That being the case...

...It was visibly quite depressed.

“Oh, Maker, don't be like that...” The mage awkwardly consoled. “You're just...we're just...a bit much, don't you see? You should know this by now! It's just....how it is, alright? Nothing to sulk about...”

Yet the being would sulk and Dorian would find himself punctured by it's anguish. Irritated by this more than anything, he paced, muttering...

“For the love of Andraste...don't grieve over one bloody man like this- it's really not becoming...”

Desire peeked at him but clearly dismissed this advice, remaining in it's forlorn huddle. Seeing no choice but to switch tactics, he sat alongside the creature, sighing empathetically.

“...Maybe it's not so bad!” He offered, attempting to convince himself while speaking. “He hasn't sent anyone after us, or anything...I'll speak to him, alright? I'll apologise for your awfully uncouth behaviour, and explain that you are quite harmless. You've just gained something of a, uh...fascination...”

His shadow pouted at him, wordless.

“...If we hadn't already invested so much time...I'd say abandoning this 'fascination' would benefit you more than pursuing it...”

The creature's eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

“Well...that's sort of my point,” Dorian said with a laugh, gesturing at it's pinched face. “Since when are you so picky?”

Snarling, it slumped with more exaggeration, not dignifying this statement with a response.

“Fine, fine...” Dorian stood, rolling his eyes. “...Let's scent out Lunis' trail then, no? Hopefully our Herald can spare us a moment between rounding up lyrium-smugglers, and trying to end a bloody war...”

Energised by this plan, Desire hopped up, teeth gleaming cheerfully through the dark shroud that always lingered.

They were nearing Redcliffe when Dorian abruptly lost track of the minion's presence.

This was concerning for many reasons. Mainly it concerned him because he knew very well who had settled at the castle.

Alexius and his Venatori. People who likely considered Dorian a traitor or lost to the wilderness- depending on what information had been acquired in regard to his movements.

As he approached the gated courtyard, aiming to meet Alexius somewhere inside, he became doubly unnerved. If Lunis had been struck down, he should feel nothing of the beast. Yet the impression hadn't simply vanished- it had scattered. His senses judged Lunis to be everywhere, yet nowhere definable.

By then he had a theory- but only speaking with Alexius would give true insight.

No one stopped Dorian as he sauntered through the castle, though cultists who recognised him shot doubtful glances. Since they weren't attacking on sight, he assumed they knew little of what exactly had occupied the renegade.

He met Alexius in the throne room; relaxed upon its ornate chair, snickering with one of his inferiors.

“...It will be rather interesting to see when the poor fool will reappear, in any case.”

Catching the tail-end of this conversation, Dorian strode forth, beaming as if nothing were amiss. While approaching he noted a dark, sooty stain upon the floor, briefly disturbing his internal map. Now his being was convinced Lunis' energy was somehow caught in the damn tiles.

Very quickly, Dorian pieced the scene together.

“If you were inviting the Inquisition for a party, you should have sent for me!” He bantered, acting oblivious towards Alexius' calculating stare.

“Were you not instructed to observe the Rifts?” The older mage knit his brow. “Yet my people have heard nothing of you- now here you are...without any of the instruments you departed with.”

None of this caused Dorian's smile to falter. If anything it widened, shrugging simply as he stated-

“I lost it.”

“You...lost it? You 'lost' a whole bag of equipment?” Alexius' features hardened but Dorian merely laughed.

“I don't know if you've noticed...but the Ferelden countryside is somewhat of a mess between the Inquisition, demons, Templars, rebel mages...and us, of course.”

“...Of course...” Though he didn't relent completely- eyes squinting. “...And I suppose in all this mayhem, you managed to find some...distraction...completely unrelated to the task you were to be compensated for?”

The implication and disgust was palpable- and not totally incorrect. Dorian at least considered himself fortunate that Alexius seemed ignorant to who had 'distracted' the maleficar.

“You know me too well!” He chuckled heartily, displaying no shame.

Scoffing at this, Alexius grumbled;

“We won't be paying you for a job you failed to accomplish, I hope you realise...”

“I thought as much, yes.” Yet he would stand there, smiling foolishly and expectantly until Alexius growled and began once more to lecture;

“We can still make use of you...but your incompetence thus far, Dorian, has been noted. Rest assured that if matters here hadn't concluded to our satisfaction...I would not be suffering your presence in this moment.”

“How kind of you, Alexius!” Dorian chimed with mirth, needling lightly into the topic. “And how did things here conclude to 'our satisfaction'? From the looks of it, all you've done is burn a hole through the poor Arl's floor...”

He'd hoped the arrogance of the man would lure him into relinquishing details- and was glad to see himself correct.

“That fool 'Herald'...” Alexius guffawed, gesturing to the charred tiles. “...as you'd expect from a fraud, he has not the tiniest grasp of the forces he meddles with. I flung him out of time- along with that...repulsive mutt of his...”

Dorian's mouth twitched- he willed it to remain smiling.

However, Alexius' gaze narrowed.

“...Quite strange, really. The creature resembled one of yours.”

“One of mine?” He cackled as sincerely as possible- a trained mannerism. “Oh yes, I'm sure the Southern Chantry would love to have one of my abominable little minions running around! Surely the Herald of Andraste, with his Dalish heritage, would adore such a gift from a Tevinter blood mage!”

That appeared to quell Alexius' assumptions for now- he leant back into his usurped throne, scowling.

“Point taken...but your ongoing absence is unacceptable, regardless. For the time being, I expect you to remain in Redcliffe- until we think of how you can be of actual use.”

“But of course!” Dorian accepted with a melodramatic bow. “I only live to serve, Magister Alexius!”

Unimpressed by this show, Alexius dismissed him with a noise of disgust.

“Out of my sight now...I would like to savour this victory, without your foolish remarks...”

Back turned on Alexius and his Venatori, Dorian's ever-present smile morphed into a sneer.

He wouldn't act until nightfall.

With the Herald's supposed removal, the Venatori were lulled into a sense of security- a false one, if Dorian would have anything to say about it. Alexius' research into magical time shifts wasn't news to him- but he'd have to act immediately for any hope of success.

Who even knew what Lavellan was being pit up against- weeks or months into an undoubtedly chaotic future?

The first step would be to retrieve Alexius' amulet- with that, he'd be capable of triangulating Lunis' exact place and time. That accomplished, all he'd have to do is locate the Herald and bring him home.

For any other mage, swiping the amulet in itself would be a complication. For Dorian, it was as simple as recruiting a little friend. Lounging in the courtyard beneath glaring twin moons, he waited for the wily rat to return.

It soon did so, squeaking and scrabbling- as it was a literal rat. Albeit one with an adorable, miniscule skull for a head. Loping from one sill to the other, soon it was clambering down rough brick, plopping onto Dorian's shoulder with an accompanying jangle.

“Took you long enough!” He jested, unburdening the rodent of its spoils. “Perfectly done, though! I doubt anyone even noticed.”

Emitting many a pleased squeal, his furry friend pounced into his hood, rolling comfortably.

“Well...you can go back to sleep, or you can stay here, it's really up to...” There was no reason to finish- predictably, his minion wished to slumber until its services were called upon. It would become something of a fossil once the wisp floated into the Fade- a strange ornament that most wouldn't think twice about. Not the only grim trinket one might find on his person, either.

Initial steps fulfilled, Dorian fled from the village, knowing he would never be welcomed back.

Tracking Lunis' precise time-space took longer than Dorian would have liked.

A week- perhaps two? It was difficult to count the days between the spreading of Rifts, constant clashes between Venatori and Inquisition, and of course the Venatori's pursuit of himself.

Much of it involved working within the Fade, utilising the amulet as a beacon. Outside of the Fade, he roamed and hunted, following whatever signs- mundane or otherwise- that led to the place part of where he meant to travel.

The time part was more tricky- but Dorian was sure he'd pinned it down- the exact location, in the exact time-shift.

For reasons he couldn't hazard, Lavellan and Lunis had been taken to the other side of the Hinterlands, where there was an old fort. Currently held by Inquisition- that must not be so in whatever future the Herald occupied.

Dorian situated himself outside the fort, far enough to be unnoticed but close enough to reach in a short sprint. Once he jumped through, after all, he could waste no...well, time.

Fiddling with the amulet, he ensured none of his calculations were off, breathing deep, muffling stress...

Travelling through time was not a usual experience for him...

Truthfully, if the Herald wasn't so clearly integral to the success of the Inquisition, he wouldn't be fool enough to attempt such a thing. It was all a bit much just to save and impress some bloody man!

However by some ridiculous twist of fate...Dorian was the singular person able to retrieve the Inquisition's Herald. He supposed then, it was fortunate for both he and all of Thedas, that he just so happened to rather like the damn fool...

While Dorian pondered and probed the amulet he was aware of his shadow- watching him, intent...

“...Alright, listen...” Exhaling, he met Desire's gaze. “...Where we're headed, this Breach nonsense will be out of control- so just...try to remember...”

Struggling to think of what he wanted the creature to remember, Dorian rubbed his forehead. Deciding on words, he looked his shadow square in the eye and dictated-

“Fuck the Fade. Fuck it's endless knowledge. Fuck Corypheus. Fuck the Venatori. Fuck everything that isn't you and me! That's how it's always been! You'll remember that, won't you...?”

Blinking at him, apparently baffled by this lack of confidence, Desire answered with a firm nod.

“...Alright...” Inhaling, Dorian stretched the amulet before him. “I'm trusting you, old friend.”

With a muttered incantation, green swirls of fire possessed the object and his attached arm, gathering until they formed a tear in existence itself.

Mustering all the courage available to him, Dorian stepped through.

Into a world of pure, hellish mayhem.

There was no longer a single Breach and various Rifts- the sky was consumed by Breach, the land littered in demons and Rifts. The quaint Ferelden countryside was strewn with months-old carnage, and not a moment seemed to go by without a roar, a scream, a distant explosion.

“Andraste's-flaming-tits.” He uttered witlessly, briefly unable to do anything but behold the chaos. Alongside him he could feel Desire fluttering, panicked. It didn't like this future anymore than he did- and must have felt vulnerable and exposed, with the Fade and reality mashed together.

“Yes, I know, just-” Before he could finish, Dorian was overwhelmed by an internal sensation of tearing and burning. Though he didn't panic- Desire was simply escaping as far from the Breach as possible, into it's bound vessel.

“GARGH! FOR THE LOVE OF-” He didn't panic but he would complain! “I hate when you do that!”

If someone else were present, they would have noticed the hint of crimson overtake his eyes, pupils becoming snake-like. Hardly a concern right now- who was around to judge? Besides, Desire's manner of seeing would be of use. Finding Lunis and Lavellan would be effortless with the combination of his bond to the wolf, and his shadow's penchant for identifying auras.

“On with it, then!” Steeling himself, he progressed towards the fort- no Inquisition banners now, obviously. No banners at all, actually.

Someone had helpfully scrawled over the parapets in blood, but Dorian didn't count that.

There was no alarm at his approach, he raced through the smashed portcullis and into a courtyard without problem. By now, he supposed there wasn't a large force defending the structure, down to whatever skeleton crew was necessary to control Lavellan.

...Come to think of it- why are they bothering to keep him alive?

Not just the Herald but also Lunis...

This epiphany filled Dorian with foreboding but he didn't have to suffer in ignorance for long. Passing a row of wooden holdings- animal-pens, it looked like- a familiar presence called to him, soon accompanied by frantic scrapes, bangs and strange rumbles...

That would be the dog, then.

Rushing to the wobbling door, he wrestled off the latch and was instantly tackled by a ton of muscle and fur, topped off by a wilting flame.

“Yes-yes-I'm happy to see you too!” He assured the canine, wrangling it off him. “But where's your master- where's Lavellan?!”

Obediently plopping at his heels, Lunis sat with tail drooped and shoulders low, offering a responsive whine.

“Yes, just hold still..” Dorian guided, kneeling before the minion. “I'll take a look...”

A hand placed on the nape of Lunis' stitched neck, he delved into the creature's memory...

Separated from Master. Blood. Yelling. Sprinting over corpses.

Bad people. Smell bad. All have that smell. Death. Despair.

Master's voice- angry, yelling.

Running towards it. Want to help Master!

Grabbed! Too many hands! Snarling- ANGRY!- Master yelling- “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Laughter. Unkind. Talking. Death-smells.

Master is not fighting anymore. He throws his weapon to the ground.

They take him away.

I HOWL I YELL I FIGHT.

BUT THEY TOOK HIM AWAY.

Throw me in the dark. I howl. No one replies. I howl. No one replies.

Master is yelling again. It is not angry yelling. Master is in pain.

I howl. I ram the door. I FIGHT. I AM ANGRY.

They will not let me out. I cannot get out.

I CANNOT HELP HIM.

Yelling stops. Door opens- it is Master!

He is happy to see me. I am happy to see him!

But he is hurt. Arm stinks of blood and death. I whine. I want to clean it.

Laughs at me. Calls me a good boy. Tells me not to whine. Hugs me with one arm.

Calls me a good boy. I try to clean his arm. He laughs at me, hugs me. Laughter turns into crying.

Hugs me once more. Tells me to be good.

They take him away again.

They keep taking him away.

Dorian emerged from the desperate vision with a gasp, sickened and panicked to his core- and just slightly irate...

“...They're using you to keep him subdued?! That's why they didn't just kill you?!- They're trying to remove the mark! And you're the only mechanism of control they have over him...” His mouth twitched, almost wincing. “That...that bloody sentimental idiot! Doesn't he realise you're not actually a dog?! He might have found his way back by now if it weren't for you!”

If it weren't for me.

If I hadn't given him this stupid gift!

Before him, Lunis whined, descending to hide against his front paws.

“Shh, it's fine..” Dorian patted fur absently, glancing around. “...Stay here, alright? I don't want anyone noticing me...I'll find him, and then we'll all go home, yes?”

Lunis had just enough cheer and stamina to lightly wave his tail, signalling obedience.

“That's a good boy...I'll be right back- with your master!”

He sealed the pen in an effort to avoid detection, then charged inside. By this point he was thankful for Desire's cowardice. Whilst bound in this fashion, hunting down Lavellan was a simple matter of rifling through energies. Dorian supposed he should be thankful for the demon's lecherous nature. It's recent contact with the Herald caused his aura to shine prominently, even weak and broken from torment.

Somewhere on the lower levels- smaller energies around him. Apparently someone thought it amusing to throw their Dalish prisoner in with the hounds.

Outrage flooded him upon this discovery- especially from Desire. As far as the demon was concerned, Lavellan was already theirs. To have something of 'theirs' treated with such blatant disrespect- regarded as a beast- it sent his shadow wild. He could barely keep a lid on the fury.

“Listen...” Dorian ground out, descending stairs. “...You need to keep your head on straight, friend! He's alive- and we're going to get him out of here. So just...focus on that.”

Together they attempted to do just that, while lurking the lower cells in search of Lavellan...

They'd tossed him into a cell at the very back. Dorian heard the restful wheeze of a dog-pack before any sound or sight from Lavellan. The cell lock was worthless- easily melted with a fistful of fire.

“Hello...? Herald...?” He inquired very quietly, skulking into the damp cell, disturbing piles of hay. A few canines grunted but didn't seem able to differentiate him from every other loudly dressed Tevinter.

“DIE, VENATORI SCUM!” Lavellan also seemed unable to differentiate- before Dorian knew what was happening, his back was shoved against a wall, a blunt knife wavering against his throat.

“Oh!- you're out of your chains!-” He giggled somewhat nervously “And you found a knife!”

“AND I WILL GUT YOU WITH IT!- TEVINTER PIG!”

Rusted metal pressed against Dorian's jugular, the seriousness of Lavellan's threats striking him all at once-

“WAIT-WAIT-WAIT! Look- it's ME!- Dorian Pavus- remember?!”

Wild eyes fixed upon his, brimming with confusion and hatred. The Herald was exactly in the sort of state you'd expect- clothes ragged, soaked in blood and filth, hair a crazed mane, features exhausted. His right arm was heavily bandaged- he held the knife in his left, as correctly as he could manage.

“You are with them!” He hissed- but thankfully seemed hesitant. “You were mentioned by name!”

“But you haven't actually seen me with any of them- have you?!” Dorian struggled, reaching for every detail he could find. “If they have mentioned me- it's probably as an incompetent fool who never does his job, no?!”

A glimmer of doubt passed over Lavellan's expression- but again his knife-grip firmed.

“How do you expect me to believe that?!”

“I brought you Lunis, didn't I?!” He spluttered- at a loss. “And he's a good boy, isn't he?!”

Something in the Herald's face appeared to crumble, eyes watering, mouth wincing.

“Yes- he- he is a good boy...” He admitted in a whimper, still toying with the blade.

“Yes- exactly! He's a good boy! And I gave him to you- to find you- remember?! And look- I found you! Just as I said I would!”

“...He...” Gasping slowly, Lavellan stumbled back, repeating as if unsure of his words. “...He is a good boy. That is true...”

All at once he flopped against the wall, leaning there tiredly while a nearby hound sniffed at the noise. Most of them seemed to ignore it- Dorian supposed they'd been privy to a lot of shouting. Either that, or he was so focused on the knife at his throat that he didn't register their howls.

“How did you...even get that?” He questioned, pointing to the blade.

Lavellan fumbled with it, lazily explaining...

“They made me sleep with the hounds. I taught one to fetch.”

“And the...chains?” This time, he pointed to the split shackles bound to his wrists.

“I froze one link. Gradually.” Lifting his arms, he feigned yanking them apart. “Like firewood.”

For a while Dorian regarded him in stunned silence. He'd meant to save the poor fool- but he was already half-way to saving himself. Still, he was in such a state...he couldn't get far on his own, could he?

Even so...he was more than a little impressed by the elf's tenacity.

“All of that...must have taken a while.” He observed with a frown, wondering how long Lavellan had suffered this fate- passage of time between the two worlds was clearly not identical. For all Dorian knew, he could have been here months...

“I did not keep track.” Lavellan said with a lame shrug- before his eyes suddenly sparked. “Guards- they are in mid-change? You saw no one? No one stopped you?” “What? I...I really couldn't say. I didn't see anyone, but-”

Disinterested in further explanation, the Herald burst from his cell, weapon in hand. He proceeded to storm through the halls, Dorian desperately trying to match his pace. He resisted calling out, not wanting to attract attention to either of them.

Maker!

He's bloody fast for someone who so clearly needs medical attention!

Lavellan rounded a corner and within milliseconds Dorian heard an absolutely terrified-

“OH SHIT!- OH SHIT!- WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-STOP!-PLEASE-”

Followed by a wet splat- a scream- a gurgle.

Upon reaching the noise, Dorian was faced by more or less what he'd mentally prepared for. The Herald had bowled into some unsuspecting Venatori guard, proceeding to messily tear them asunder with an implement far too worn for such butchery. It was a vicious, ceaseless activity. Dorian noted the wealth of Lavellan's assault was focused on the man's right arm- though he was dead by then.

His death failed to please or be acknowledged by the Herald, who commenced tearing muscle and skin.

Dorian didn't interfere at first. He had an uneasy sense of witnessing something deeply personal- deeply vengeful.

He allowed the man to navigate these emotions however he saw fit- for as long as it felt safe, anyway. He couldn't just...stand around and watch the Herald mutilate corpses all day...

“...My Herald,” He said gently, stepping forward. “...I do believe that man has been rather dead for several minutes...”

Lavellan flung the knife aside, fresh crimson staining the entire length of his body.

“What a pity.” Was all he said.

He then rooted around the man's cloak until retrieving his actual weapon- Dorian recognised the bladeless hilt from previous encounters. However it was merely held at his side, loose and inept.

...He probably doesn't have the strength to summon the blade right now,

let alone use it...

“Lunis...” A growl from the Herald stirred him from his thoughts. “Take me to Lunis.”

“Of course, but...” Dorian perked a brow, curious. “I have to ask...what exactly was your plan?”

“My plan?” Lavellan wheezed in bitter amusement, seeming pained by the motion. “You saw the extent of my plan.”

Blinking from the Herald to the desecrated corpse, Dorian's brow lifted higher.

“Your plan was just...brutally kill that man in specific...?”

“Yes.”

“...Right, well...”

Unsettled by the whole circumstance, Dorian was eager to leave this damned timeline. He was grateful they encountered only a few Venatori stragglers- nothing that couldn't be solved with an inferno or two. Incapable of a true bout, Lavellan was forced to rely on Dorian's protection- though never complained.

Master and hound were reunited shortly; the undead canine leapt into Lavellan's chest, clutching firmly, Lavellan mumbled and cooed in Dalish, settling the wolf's nerves.

“You do realise that's not actually a dog, yes?” Dorian couldn't help but point out. “It's just a Fade-Wisp...inhabiting a preserved corpse...”

The Herald scowled at this, embracing Lunis tightly.

“It is a Fade-Wisp that believes itself to be a dog, in the body of a dog. In every way that matters, it is a dog.”

He could only blink dumbly at that logic- though Lunis panted in cheerful agreement.

Escaping together, the trio trudged through a dire landscape, returning to the necessary spot for their backwards time-shift.

“Hold onto me,” Dorian advised, gingerly taking Lavellan's wrist. “This might make you feel just a tad sick.”

The elf pressed into his side, patient and silent while another vortex flared into life, swallowing them both.

Above them, the sun was shining.

Granted- there was still a Breach- but it hadn't overwhelmed the whole blighted sky!

“Maker, finally!” Dorian sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “I almost can't believe we made it back!”

Lavellan only offered a soft grunt, still slouched into his rescuer's frame.

I really need to bring him to a healer...

“Come- you see there?” He waved towards the fort. “Inquisition banners!- Your people. Let's get you home, my dear Herald...”

“...Yes, I see...” Detaching, he lurched forward- though managed just a few steps before buckling. Dorian rushed to offer support, insisting on it when Lavellan hesitated.

“Don't be shy now,” He cajoled sweetly. “It's alright to lean on me- I don't know how you've been upright for this long, really...”

Mute, the Herald allowed this without protest- probably lacking conviction to do so.

Lunis scampered ahead, barking in that odd, ethereal fashion that was not really a bark, since he lacked vocal chords. By the time Dorian caught up with Lavellan hanging off him, completely unconscious, a group of soldiers were blinking down from the parapets.

He imagined they were an odd sight- a Tevinter blood mage, holding up their famed and highly-honoured Herald of Andraste, both soaked in blood and the latter appearing mauled by a bear.

“LET ME IN!” He demanded, angling so they could better sight his burden. “I brought him back!- I brought back your bloody Herald!”

Commotion erupted from within, excitement and shock crashing over the populace like a wave.

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