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wilbursprincess · 10 months ago

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Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

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theyandereonmyoji · 1 year ago

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General Yandere Silver the Hedgehog Headcanons

Well, I’ve been receiving quite a few requests for Silver, so I thought that, before responding any of those, I should post some of my general headcanons (Also sorry about the hiatus, but thankfully I should be free for a long while) TW: implied murder and kidnapping

This sweet, naive hedgehog would take a long time before he realized he felt anything…special towards you. He’s just happy to have friends he can talk to. After all, he can get pretty lonely back in his future, even with how much he wants to make friends and hang out with them, he can’t. However, after a long while, he starts asking himself tons of questions about his behavior. Like why do his eyes wander off to where you are when hanging out with a bunch of your mutual friends, or why does he get so nervous when you two are alone. Whether his feelings towards you are purely platonic or even romantic, he’ll eventually realize how truly intense his feelings are.

His attitude towards you wouldn't change much on a surface level, he’s still the eager, optimistic hedgehog that wears his heart on his sleeves and likes to be around you. Yet, those traits that would make him a lovable dork in most situations, is what ultimately causes him to be rather intense when you two are together. He’s basically like an overgrown puppy, lovable and ultimately doesn’t want to cause you any issues, yet he can be extremely overbearing and not allow you to have any personal space. It doesn’t matter how boring or mundane your activities are for the day, he’s always there, for better or for worse.

If one day you decide that he’s just too intense for you and ask him to please leave you alone for a while, he will give be noticeably sad even if he tries to hide it, but he will leave you alone…for a little while anyways, him lasting a day without you is a miracle, but eventually he’ll beg you for you two to hang out again, swearing that he will try to give you your space, but to please let him be around you again. And honestly you would need to be heartless to say no to the poor guy, he’s just trying his best, can you really stay mad at him for long? From then on, he respects your personal space a bit more, though he does still have his moments where that type of behavior can resurface.

Despite how sweet and caring he is towards you (and towards any of his friends really) He can be quite…serious for a lack of a better term. If he sees anything or anyone that he might consider a threat, well, mercy might not be in his vocabulary that day. Honestly it’s like a on/off switch, one moment he’s being the sweetest cinnamon roll to ever exist towards all of his friends, and even more towards you, the next he’s willing to commit murder for your sake. Trust me when I say you want to stop him before things get messy, if not for the sake of whatever poor fella crossed him that day, at least to have a healthy conscience at the end of that day. After all, Silver sees no reason to hide what he’s willing to do for you

The poor boy gets jealous easily and he’s terrible at hiding it. The thing he’s not terrible at is gaslighting himself though. After all, there’s no way he would ever harm someone innocent, they must be evil in some way, he just knows you’re not safe with them. Pray to whatever god you believe in (or to good luck if you’re not religious, whatever works) that he doesn’t find enough “evidence” to support his claim that your friend is a menace, because once he does, there’s no stopping him. He’s a stubborn one, and in his eyes, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He’s just keeping everyone you safe away from that bastard, but it’s ok now, they’ll be gone soon, so don’t worry about it, ok?

I hope you like gifts, because with Silver you’re going to get a lot of hand-made ones. He wishes nothing more than to make you smile, and he figured out that a good way to do so would be gifts. Baked good, some small crafts, he’ll try to make anything, and while they might not be of the best quality, it’s the intention that counts, and again, you would have to be absolutely heartless to tell him that you don’t like his gifts, especially with those puppy eyes of his. He’s just so happy when you acknowledge all of his hard work to make you happy, he just can’t get enough of your smile, it’s almost like oxygen to him, he just can’t get enough of it. He’s willing to do anything for you, quite literally.

Silver probably has the least stable breaking point out of everyone, mostly cuz he’s so used to thinking about how everything can go wrong due to his ruined future, that basically anything happening to you is catastrophic in his eyes. You got a scratch? He panics, a fight with someone? Pray they get a quick death. Eventually as things get worse and worse (according to him anyways) he’ll decide that he’s had enough and not let you go anywhere without him, or more accurately, let you go anywhere at all. Reasoning with him is impossible, after all he’s as stubborn as can get, and as much as he loves you, he’s not taking no for an answer, after all it’s all for your sake, so shouldn’t you be happy?

The only possible way I can see you escaping from him is if you somehow gain his trust enough for him to let his guard down, slip up, and give you a chance to peace out…but good luck with that. It isn’t that he wouldn’t trust you, but he’s just incapable of being apart from you, so a moment when you’re alone are too few and far between, I doubt you would even have a proper plan to escape him. In the case you somehow do manage to do so, your freedom won’t last long, he’s really adept with that psychokinesis of his, so the moment he sees you it’s game over. He would try to justify to himself why would you ever want to run away, after all, it’s impossible for him to see what he did wrong, you probably were just anxious, but no need to worry, he will always be there for you

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #green tea #yandere silver the hedgehog #yandere silver the hedgehog x reader #yandere silver the hedgehog x y/n

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artemis32 · 2 years ago

Note

I've read Subjugation II, and it's amazing!! I didn't evem notice that was the first time you've written smut (that's the name? I forgot, lol). Anyway, what are your thoughts if reader fells pregnant after that? Or not even after that but in the same universe of the fic? 🙄🙄

Hope you're well 😃

subjugation drabble i

So usually I'm not into the whole pregnancy thing, but oh my gosh do I have some thoughts (also the phrase “barefoot and pregnant” sounds a bit strange in English, I’m sorry ://)

I have no idea if this is a drabble or not, but we’re labelling it as one

Also - my laptop is very buggy at the moment, so until that's fixed, I unfortunately can't write anything (except maybe a few short drabbles)

****

tw: pregnancy mentions, noncon / dubcon, oral sex (f receiving), creampie

****

subjugation masterlist

bnha masterlist

****

****

So neither of these men believe in wrapping it before they tap it - why should they when you belong to them. They don’t care much for pulling out either, that’s no fun.

Really, it wouldn’t be any surprise to either of them if you ended up pregnant sooner or later.

Only, it might happen a bit sooner than either of them would like.

You only just started to “accept” them, they really want to enjoy their time with you for as long as possible - children would be a distraction.

Don’t get me wrong, they definitely want you to carry their children in the future, and not just one either, though they haven’t decided on a specific number yet.

They want children, they truly do - but they want your full attention more, at least for the moment. They can’t very well get down and dirty if you have a few rascals running around at all hours of the day.

Then again, the idea of you barefoot and pregnant has been one of their biggest fantasies for a while - the gentle swell of your stomach, plush breasts filled with milk, your face glowing beautifully as your pregnancy continues.

It’s tempting, getting you pregnant as soon as possible. But they’ll put it off for as long as they can stand.

Shota is the voice of reason, reminding Hizashi of how much time and energy goes into raising infants, children who you have to care for all day, everyday.

You don’t get a say in the final decision. They may take into consideration your thoughts and feelings, but ultimately, their word is law. Whether you actually want children or not is irrelevant.

Any anxieties you have about pregnancy or being a mother are brushed off, gently but firmly. They may try to quell your fears at first, but eventually their patience will run out and they tell you outright that you have no choice in the matter.

They may consider putting you on some form of birth control until they feel ready to give up their time with you, until they’re ready to become parents, but who knows how long that will last.

When they eventually do want children, no amount of begging or pleading will change their minds. Sobs and screams fall on deaf ears, and physical retaliation is met with stern discipline. They aren’t above tying you down to get what they want.

Out of the two of them, I imagine that Shota has more of a breeding kink than Hizashi does.

Hear me out - while Hizashi loves the sexual act in itself, Shota loves the idea of you being pregnant, especially with his or Hizashi’s child.

Not only the mental image of you being pregnant, but also the idea of you relying on him during the pregnancy, having to ask him for help with anything and everything.

Washing your hair while you shower or washing your back and legs while you bath. He’d insist on bathing with you, slotting himself in behind you, gently massaging your shoulders, softly rubbing circles onto your back with the washcloth.

He’d help you get dressed too, and he’d take his sweet time. He’d help you put on lotion, squirting it into his hands to warm it up first. He’d have you sit on the bed while he kneels on the floor between your legs, both of you covered by nothing more than a towel.

His fingers would lightly massage your ankles, gently rolling the swollen joints, working his way up, kneading your sore legs.

Of course he wouldn’t stop there - he would massage your hands and feet, your arms and back. He would save your stomach for last.

Still kneeling on the floor, his rough palms would smooth over your bloated stomach, rubbing in small, slow circles.

If you happen to look at his face, you would see him staring at you already, eyes dark and filled with a deep loving look.

Naturally, seeing you all pliant and willing would stir up something within him.

Sex helps with stress during pregnancy - that’s what he would tell you in those moments, gently coaxing you on to your back.

“I’m helping you. You and the baby.” He would say as he lowered himself between your legs, shifting you so that your legs lay over his shoulders.

He would stare at you with such adoration, placing soft kisses on the inside of each thigh, working his way up to the apex of your thighs.

Soft is the best way to describe him. His only focus is you, your pleasure, your desire.

One orgasm turns into two, which turns into three.

After he’s had his fill, he’ll straighten up, dropping the towel around his waist. Still, he remains calm and gentle with you, slowly working his thick cock into your dripping cunt. There’s almost no stretch, no burn - curtesy of the three or four orgasms he pulled out of you with his mouth minutes prior.

He rocks his hips back and forth to a gentle rhythm, the veins along his cock dragging over your sensitive walls. Usually he’s able to push you into another two or three orgasms - pregnancy made you more sensitive than before, not that either of them ever complain.

Once he’s cum, buried to the hilt inside you, he’ll pull out slowly before pulling you into him, cuddling you close.

He never rushes to leave you, to clean you up or dress you. Oftentimes, you’ll fall asleep in his arms, still naked, and wake up hours later, clean and dressed, wedged between him and Hizashi.

Hizashi loves slow gentle sex with you too, though he hangs around you more than Shota does, if that’s even possible.

He seems to believe that pregnancy addles your brains, and he doesn’t trust you to complete tasks - he helps you put on your shoes, feeds you, brushes your hair for you.

It might have infuriated you, how both of them almost infantilize you - it should, but their softer demeanour is refreshing. Having them coddle you is far better than them punishing you in a cruel and painful fashion.

So overall, they love the idea of you being pregnant, and they definitely want to start a family one day, just not anytime soon.

Though when it does eventually happen, you’ll probably end up smothered and coddled to death.

#.anon.#art answers #subjugation ask #hizashi yamada #shota aizawa #present mic #eraserhead #female reader #yandere #dark content #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere yamada hizashi #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #.noncon.#.dubcon.#.pregnancy.

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kaeyas-beloved · 2 years ago

Text

Voicelines: Diluc’s Birthday

Characters: Jean, Rosaria, Kaeya, Diluc, (Y/N)

Summary: Some people have some things to say in regards to today…

Genre: Fluff/Mild-Angst + Snippets

CWs: romantic Diluc x gn!reader & platonic for everyone else

a/n: I really enjoyed doing this for Kaeya way back when, so I decided why not do it for Diluc too :D

Jean

"When Master Diluc was a young boy, he, Kaeya, myself and (Y/N) would travel to all sorts of places. Our destination changed as the years went by but whenever it was Diluc’s birthday we found ourselves returning to the same place each time. Ah, I still remember how freeing the breeze felt. It doesn’t have to be on that same mountain ledge, but I hope the four of us can spend time like we used to."

Rosaria

"It’s none of my business, but I sometimes spot him by the cathedral’s graveyard late at night. He just comes around more often today than any other. Whatever happened must’ve left a mark on him. If it’s the reason why he is the way he is… then maybe I can see where he’s coming from.”

Kaeya

“Master Diluc is ever the popular one today, isn’t he? More so than usual. What, you don’t know? Oh, traveler, today’s the grump’s birthday! Why don’t you go give him your well wishes on his special day, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Diluc

"Kaeya said what? Hmph, of course he did. He doesn't know when to stop talking sometimes. *sigh* Yes, it's true, today is my birthday. Another year has gone by yet nothing changes. Oh you know what I mean, nothing changes about me specifically. At least that’s what it feels like. The only difference is that this year (Y/N) will be celebrating with me. It’s been a while since they did and knowing them they’ll want to make up for those missed years. It’s… somewhat exciting. I can’t wait to see what they have planned.”

(Of course, being with them is enough of a present. The best I could ever hope to receive)

(Y/N)

"We actually shared our first kiss on his 17th birthday.

Heh, bet you didn’t know that Traveler. We’d already been together a few months back then, taking things slow with one another, and I thought it would be a good gift to give. Archons you should’ve seen how red his face was! Needless to say, he liked it.

…I thought that Diluc was long gone. I thought that I’d have to relearn how to love a completely different man after he came back. In some ways I did. At the same time though he’ll still blush so bad his ears fade into his hair if I catch him off guard, he still has the kindest heart I’ve ever witnessed and he’s as strong as I remember, protecting everything he loves. I want to protect him like he protects Mond, like he protects his friends, like he protects me. It's the bare minimum he should get after everything."

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @stage-lucida // @irethepotato

. . .

Wanna be tagged in future works? Consider filling out this form! And if you want to be removed just DM or send an ask into my inbox!

#diluc x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #aprilluc 2023 #aprilluc #genshin impact

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larissa-the-scribe · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, since I am evil and subjected you to this ask game, I will also subject you to asks mwahahaha :))))

May I request: I'm Not Here to Make Friends >:(

*Gasps, faints* How... how dare

Anyways thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)

Info:

This is from Rifters (series 1), where Kathryn is living in a steampunk/superhero world, becoming a part of the younger-hero-training-school-place. Her stint as a superhero has made her some enemies, and her friends from that world also have enemies. One of them is trying to tear down the superhero structure from the inside out, and so, as a first step, has sent his best asset minion adopted son and secret weapon to infiltrate the hero guild place (I really need to define things) as a spy. Part of his mission is also to locate a specific hero who has no traceable identity but has been a thorn in super villain's sides ever since, uh, *checks notes* the out-of-world newcomer came in and stopped the apocalypse.

Benn (currently Eabennor) is an angsty loner teenager who is just here to DO HIS JOB and he doesn't care about anyone ever-- Especially not that Nuisance (Kathryn) who keeps following him around and trying to talk to him--he's Spying and they are his Enemies (aka this is his feral kitten era).

Snippet:

“Anything else you want to say before I slam the door in your face?” He asked—hoping his bitingly sarcastic tone and smile left her little doubt that he meant it. “What about dinner?” she asked. Eabennor stared at her, halfway between exasperated and confused. “I have no idea why you’d think I’d be interested.” Kathryn blinked. “…In eating?” “What?” “Since you just got here you have to sign up for dinner,” Kathryn explained, tilting her head. “Though I suppose you’re probably not keen on interacting with people, or not today at least.” “Oh.” “But you should still eat,” she continued, “even if you’re not interested. The food is very good here.” “Yeah, probably.” Eabennor bit back any other comments that might embarrass him further—though thankfully she seemed dumb enough to not have noticed. “Supper time is usually at 6:30,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “I’ll talk to someone in the kitchen about setting aside a plate. If you go down at 7:30-ish, it should be pretty clear, at least besides the kitchen crew cleaning up. How long that takes can vary, though, so I can’t give you a solid estimate on how long they’ll be there.” “Good to know,” he said flatly, considering the viability of carrying out his threat from earlier. This whole conversation—no, this whole day—had been a complete trainwreck, and he desperately wanted to be left alone. “Exact details for the future can be figured out later, though,” she said, smiling brightly, as if looking forward to the conversation had given her a new meaning in life—obnoxiously cheery, he thought to himself—“Matthias is the first door coming into the hallway, and I’m in the hall across the way, so if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” “Is that all.” “One last thing,” she added, with what he could have sworn was a mischievous glint in her eye, “I hope you have a lovely rest of your day.” Maybe it was petty, but slamming the door did turn out to be quite cathartic.

#Early Days Benn is so funny to me #I love them your honor #Kathryn is living her best life and it is definitely at Benn's expense rn #asks #scribe answers #salt and light #rifters series 1 #kathryn carvalho #eabennor bethaz

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celestialcrownsvn · 2 years ago

Text

Progress Update 12/20/22 - Scene teaser, background sketch, kickstarter rewards, character quiz!

Hello all! Thank you so much for following Celestial Crowns thus far! ✨ Please wishlist on itch.io (https://harlevin.itch.io/celestial-crowns) so that you can follow the devlog, which features more in-depth updates than I post here. The Steam page will not be created until closer to Kickstarter timing. 👍🏾

Anyway, let’s jump in!

Writing

I’m currently working on Aalam’s route! 🌌 There’s about 5,000 words so far and I’m just about to start scene 3. My goal is to write one scene a day until route completion.

Here’s a little sneak peek.This will feature the “spoiled” choice option, and a male Terra.

Terra "And what has your mood so elevated?"

Aalam "I am eager to begin the journey home. Andromeda awaits, and she is beautiful in the fall. You will be pleased."

Terra "I'm sure."

Aalam "Come, I will not have my future [groom] so displeased. What must I do?"

Terra "Get me another drink, please?"

"I only asked for a moment of peace and quiet, but Aalam seems pleased by the simple task regardless."

Aalam "Consider it done, Milav."

Terra "Excuse me?"

Aalam "I thought the good Advisor was exaggerating when he said you were behind in your studies."

Aalam "It is a word in the ancient tongue, it means \"beloved.\""

"I clear my throat, embarrassed that I didn't realize. I have never been very good at learning the second language, it seems to go in one ear and out the other, but Royals are supposed to be fluent."

Terra "Is that appropriate? We hardly know each other."

Aalam "We will know each other better soon enough."

"He gives me a polite nod before stepping away to get the drink, and I sigh." Terra "I thought I'd at least get a few months before having to suffer through pet names."

Celeste "Aw, that's so cute!"

"I jump, turning to see Celeste close behind me."

Terra "Celeste! Were you listening to our conversation?"

Celeste "Of course not. I was making myself available in case you need anything. Until you leave the palace, I am still your personal maid, after all."

"I give her a knowing look, but she just flutters her eyelashes innocently."

Terra "Well then, I {i}need{/i} you to dispose of this glass and find someone to clean up this mess."

Celeste "As you wish!"

"She bows and leaves to follow my orders. Aalam returns shortly after with a fresh goblet of wine, and I accept it with a \"thank you.\""

Aalam "You're very welcome. If you like wine, then you will be pleased by the castle stores in Andromeda. We have an extensive collection, some with over 100 years."

Terra "Fascinating."

Aalam "I see you are a hard man to impress. That is all right, I look forward to many, many attempts."

"I watch him over the rim of my glass as I take another drink."

Terra "Why bother trying to impress me? I've already agreed to marry you. What do you hope to gain?"

Aalam "Your love, of course."

"I nearly laugh out loud."

Terra "With all due respect, I'm sure we can both agree that this is a political marriage. Love has nothing to do with it."

Aalam "Not yet. But that doesn't mean it never will. Why limit ourselves to an existence where we merely tolerate each other? There's no reason not to test our compatibility in areas other than the practical. We might just fall in love."

Kickstarter

The Kickstarter is still planned for May, and I am quickly trying to gather all needed assets! 🎨 The currently planned rewards are:

Stickers

CG pack

Posters

T-shirts

Keychains

And more!

Some rewards I don’t want to start until the routes are complete, as they’ll need the context. That’s why I’m trying to finish at least the rough drafts quick. I hope to complete Aalam’s by the end of January, Sahi’s in February, and Lune’s in March.

But some rewards are in progress now! I’m currently working on the stickers.

I decided to draw them as a set on one sheet, so they could be interacting with one another. Aren’t they cute? 🤗

I haven’t decided if I’ll also be drawing the keychains or if I’ll ask one of the other artists.

Which kickstarter reward are you looking forward to the most?

Backgrounds

More backgrounds are in progress! Here’s just a peek at the beautiful sketch Stef has made for the grand hall. 🥰

It’s enough to make me cry 😭 every background just makes the game more and more beautiful. I can’t wait until I get to show off everyone’s hard work!

Character Quizzes

Finally, I’ll be posting character quizzes for each of the main characters! First up, Lune! Respond in the comments with any questions you’d like to ask the next character, Sahi! I’ll probably do a separate post for this as well.

[Picture text:

Q: So, what is your role in the castle?

A: Publicly, my role is to give the Monarch guidance on a spiritual and political level. Privately, I’m just here to make sure Terra doesn’t screw something up beyond repair.

Q: Do you enjoy working for Terra?

A: No. They make me attend a daily tea time. As if I have nothing better to do than sit and socialize.

Q: If you were King, what would you change?

A: The first thing I’d do is reevaluate General Sahi’s fitness for his position. I believe the previous King was far too generous with him.

Q: What’s your favorite color?

A: Is that a joke? Any decent citizen of Lauté bleeds purple.

]

Conclusion

That’s all for today, folks! Please please please reblog this to get it out to as many people as possible! Once this tumblr hits 300 followers, I will reveal the full version of Sahi’s CG! 🥳

#visual novel #english visual novel #english otome #oelvn #celestial crowns #celestial crowns vn #gamedev #indiedev #otome

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atmymercy · 11 months ago

Note

hiya tea! it’s s.k🍓

this is for the tarot giveaway! i’m really curious but i just want to ask, what does my f/s want to say to me right now?

like you know when people think about their f/s and think “there’s so many things i want to say to them” if that makes any sense ^^;

one thing i find hopeful? i’m not sure if this exactly hopeful, but the thought made me feel really nostalgic and happy :,))

i think it’s super cute to see how my interests changed over the years, like i may not do my old hobbies anymore but they’ll always be a part of me ?? lol if that makes sense.

another thing that i was thinking about today was just my friendships. i’m just really grateful to have such deep and meaningful relationships.

me and my friends are just so tender with one another, like we kiss, hug and cry with one another. it’s so sweet and really beautiful. just so so thankful for my friends<3

hello sk! how you doing, honey? i hope well! and i'm so happy to hear that you and your friends are so supportive and affectionate with each other! that's so cute! i just love when people get along and have a good time! it's so special yet casual all at the same time! lol

aww that is so true! it's actually amazing how nostalgic we can be about the past and yet you can also be past it, right? lol like it's a part of you who you love but is also done? lol i love the unique vibe you brought to this question!

for you, i got the 6 of coins, strength & ace of coins.

lol interesting! okay so i'm getting very like challenging vibes from your future spouse right now. like if they could talk to you it would be like "sk, i can't wait to show off who i have become in this life! you're going to see how fucking strong and tall i've gotten! you are going to see me as the prize this time around! (i have a feeling you were the hot shit between the two of them last time so now they want to be the "jauntier" one? lol what a fun way to put it... lol) like you are going to want to show me off to all your friends! you are going to want to hold my hand in public and it's almost embarrassing, yet disgustingly sweet how adorable we are going to look together! why? because i'm the prize this time, sweetheart! you try and keep up!" lolol like what? who is your future spouse? naruto? lolol very strong "watch me" vibes here! lol and bottom of the deck? "miss you until i get to see ya!" lolol so cute!

hope you enjoyed it! please give feedback or buy me a coffee/tip when you can! if you want to explore this further, please also consider a private read. also thank you for sharing with me!♡

love & light!

-tea

♡ message me for details/questions & to book a reading! ♡

#tea tarot reading #tarot reading #tarot witch #tarot reader #tarot #tarot read #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #i love tarot #divination #tarotblr #future spouse reading #future spouse tarot #future spouse #tarot readings #tarot community #kfcchilde

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

Text

Okkk I’m finally able to read this I’m so so excited I’ve been thinking about this story non stopppp

“In Kaye’s tight embrace she didn’t feel protected anymore, on the contrary, she was helpless, small. There was no choice that she could make. She could never even hint at it, let alone ask Kaye to claim her as a mate and upend Tsahik’s plans. The arrangement with Neteyam, to be set in stone, could only be disrupted with Kaye’s help but Y/N wasn’t going to blatantly say that to him. Surely, he must have understood, yet Kaye didn’t say a word”

I feel for her so much and it’s a struggle so many of us have had to deal with, being with a man that strung us along, that would never want to fully commit, that despite knowing these truths deep down, you continue to lie to yourself and accept the scraps, hoping that one day things may chance, hoping one day they’ll see your worth and choose you :(

“Kaye had always been generous with his promises to her, but he was never held responsible for keeping them”

Ah this hits so much, I hate it and I love it at the same time, you have such a way of eliciting these emotions I have felt one too many times, it’s amazing!!!

“ But she didn’t know that there was something else going on in his head, a secret he was going to reveal to her that night”

Uuuu, mysteryyyy, I love it!!

“But the woman they picked for Kaye was more and everything that Y/N lacked. Kaye would lie if he said he didn’t consider it, even though he didn’t really have a choice.”

Ouch my poor heart hurts so badly

“And Kaye could feel his heart sting with guilt at the comparison he drew in his mind between the two women. It would be so easy to start anew, to not go against his family and fight his whole life when he could just melt into the arms of the other.”

Ah, I kind of feel bad for Kaye as well, but I hate how quickly he’s willing to accept and embrace the chance and imagine himself “in the arms of the other”. Giving me the ick all around unfortunately Kaye bb

“Maybe it would be better if he held onto the news and waited for the arrangement between Y/N and Neteyam to be announced first before he could move on with his life”

Can anyone spell COWARD

“So you think Kaye’s the one who doesn’t want anyone to know?” Neteyam frowned, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger, “Are you saying he’s been leading her on?”

UM, YES!

“Suddenly all of the hurt and helplessness she had been feeling gathered into a big bubble of anger that she wanted to unleash on Neteyam - the very person who was responsible for trapping her”

No bb you’re lashing out at the wrong person here :(

““It is concerning that as the future chief of this clan you’re incapable of making your own decisions,””

I mean… she’s not wrong…

““Alright. Let’s say I am a coward and just following orders. Why didn’t you protest then? If you didn’t want this so much, why didn’t you bring up Kaye?””

I mean… he’s not wrong…

““He can’t,” she was desperate to convince Neteyam that it was the truth - that there was a bigger reason, “And I won’t ask him to.””

I think she’s also trying to convince herself… and that’s the saddest part.

““Fine, if you wish to keep being upset about it, then take all the time you need,” Neteyam exclaimed, mimicking his father’s disappointed demeanor when dealing with his children, “But don’t expect me to solve this for you. If you despise the idea of being mated with me that much, perhaps Kaye and you should talk to Tsahik. I’m sure that will help. And if you won’t… then at least try a little harder to make life easy for the both of us.””

No cause I love Neteyam, he’s so calm and collected and he makes a lot of sense - he’s not unfair or insensitive, he’s giving her a way out of this, he’s not resentful… just king behaviour all around and we can’t help but Stan

“If he was a skxawng to you, I can beat him up,” she added half-jokingly.”

The way I need to be best friends with kiri and Lo’ak is unhealthy at this point

“As Kiri squeezed her hand, Y/N tried to hold back the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She blinked rapidly, fighting the tears. The image of Kaye holding Yäyä, kissing her, and being with her was overwhelming”

Poor bb I just want to give her a hug :(((

“her throat already ablaze with the harshness of her tone.”

I loved this sentence so much, so poetic omlll

““The right time?” she repeated in disbelief, “What about the time when I confided in you about Mo'at’s arrangement for me? Remember how I cried in your arms because I couldn’t bear the thought of being forced into a life where I couldn’t be with you?””

TELL HIM GIRLIE

““Maybe if you had fought for me,” tears began to well up in her eyes again, “If you had stood up for me and fought for me, none of this would have happened.“”

YESSSSS, YOU GO GIRL!!!

“Eywa makes no mistakes. Maybe this was her chance to mend things with Neteyam, and get on the right path. Maybe they could do this, build a strong bond on a mutual understanding, friendship, and share moments of solitude. They couldn’t be lovers, but they could become good partners. Maybe there was much more to Neteyam that Y/N yet had to see. “

AWWW, YESS, LET’S GOOOO

Omg this is so sweet, I loved this so much and am so excited to see where this story is going!!! Thank you for sharing this with us and for allowing us to read it and be part of it x

Ily bestie x

Chosen by Eywa - The Betrayal - Chapter 2

← chapter 1 | chapter 3 →

summary: eywa makes no mistakes... in the midst of his preparation to become the future olo'eyktan, neteyam is told to be with a chosen mate. guided by the signs of eywa, tsahik picks y/n, a woman orphaned by the war, whose heart already belongs to another

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers

wc: 4.4k

a/n: so i've always imagined neteyam to be in a full prince mode for this series and yesterday my dearest @cinetrix had turned my dreams into a reality, it's now canon in this au that neteyam has a long hair and looks like this, and this, and this, and yes, this will probably distract you from everything else in your life! also this is still a little slow but i promise you from the next chapter things will finally start to get spicy

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

Y/N’s tears had dried up already, she had simply run out of them, now left with only short whimpers and shallow breaths. In Kaye’s tight embrace she didn’t feel protected anymore, on the contrary, she was helpless, small. There was no choice that she could make. She could never even hint at it, let alone ask Kaye to claim her as a mate and upend Tsahik’s plans. The arrangement with Neteyam, to be set in stone, could only be disrupted with Kaye’s help but Y/N wasn’t going to blatantly say that to him. Surely, he must have understood, yet Kaye didn’t say a word...

Kaye had always been generous with his promises to her, but he was never held responsible for keeping them. And now, after finding out the situation, he didn’t even offer a promise. And Y/N could sense that things shifted. He was already distant, though he was holding her close and calming her down, his voice wasn’t like a soothing balm to her wounds anymore and his touch had lacked the usual warmth. She wondered if he felt betrayed by her for not refusing Mo’at’s offer and fighting back. But she didn’t know that there was something else going on in his head, a secret he was going to reveal to her that night. And as Kaye saw what state she was in, he decided to hold his tongue.

“It’s going to be alright, Y/N,” he whispered once more, cradling her head, “You will see.”

“How can it ever be alright if we are not together?” Y/N sniffled.

“I just… I think we must trust in Eywa’s signs,” he replied with a resigned sigh.

What she didn’t know was that there was a burden just as heavy on Kaye’s shoulders. It’s been days since he argued with his parents over an arrangement of his own, and earlier, just before meeting up with Y/N, it was confirmed. Kaye knew it was foolish to bring up Y/N's name and try to make a case for her when his family was already vehemently opposed to her. They saw her as weak, with no family to rely on, with nothing to give in return. But the woman they picked for Kaye was more and everything that Y/N lacked. Kaye would lie if he said he didn’t consider it, even though he didn’t really have a choice.

Yäyä was beautiful, innocent, shielded from the war by the warmth of her family. Her heart knew no grief, no pain, she was so opposite to Y/N. Yäyä couldn't relate to Y/N, to the way her traumas constantly wore her down, and along with her, Kaye too. And Kaye could feel his heart sting with guilt at the comparison he drew in his mind between the two women. It would be so easy to start anew, to not go against his family and fight his whole life when he could just melt into the arms of the other.

Y/N’s body convulsed with whimpers making him wince in pain. Kaye fought the urge of telling her the truth now, letting it all out, but the thought of having to see her reaction made his stomach turn. Maybe it would be better if he held onto the news and waited for the arrangement between Y/N and Neteyam to be announced first before he could move on with his life. Yes, Y/N had been his first love, first kiss, the first person who saw him, but she was also his first heartbreak, his first wound, a bundle of all of his worries and exhaustion. And things as such can pass, it was about time they grew up. Grew apart.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmured, cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands. "But I have to go now. My father needs to speak with me about… some urgent matters."

"When can we meet again?” she looked up at him with puffy eyes, and his heart twisted at the sight, “I...I don't know what to do. I can't do this alone, Kaye."

“You don't have to do it alone,” he forced a smile, “We can talk tomorrow. I'll see you then."

Y/N nodded; her eyes filled with hope at his words. And Kaye couldn’t hold himself back from leaning in and brushing a soft kiss on her nose. His heart raced at the sight of her blushing, as if he had been kissing her for the first time, and the way she held her breath for a moment before exhaling shakily. He felt like he was bidding his farewell, closing a chapter before it would get too messy with the announcements. His thumb moved swiftly, wiping the dried tears off her cheeks, and then he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I don’t get it,” Kiri’s nose scrunched up in confusion, “What do you mean grandmother has chosen Y/N?”

“I mean exactly that, Kiri,” Neteyam sighed, a little irritated with his sister’s slowness, “And she won’t budge.”

“But isn’t Y/N with Kaye?” Kiri questioned further, repeating the same questions that were bothering Neteyam too. Unfortunately, he had no answers for her.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “She didn’t even mention him… or anyone. I mean, if they were together, wouldn’t she just say it? I thought it was strange too.”

Kiri frowned, her mind racing with thoughts. She had been witnessing the relationships blooming between Y/N and Kaye for years now. Though they had tried to keep it hidden, it was hard to miss the small gifts, lingering touches, longing eyes. And given how often Y/N and Kiri were around each other out of their occupation, Kiri could have sworn that there was at least something going on between Y/N and the warrior. But if they truly were together and Y/N despised the thought of being with Neteyam to the point she was ready to deny Tsahik, why wouldn’t she make a case for herself? The wrinkle between Kiri’s eyebrows suddenly turned deeper, when her mind settled on a particularly convincing possibility. She gripped her brother’s shoulder eagerly.

“You need to talk to her,” she ordered with determination, “Y/N probably feels trapped because she can’t mention Kaye.”

“But why?” Neteyam was utterly confused.

“I’m not sure… but it might be because he doesn’t want her to reveal their relationships,” his sister explained, then took a small pause to gather her thoughts, “I mean, it must be the reason why they have kept it a secret so far. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she use it to protest grandmother’s wishes?”

“So you think Kaye’s the one who doesn’t want anyone to know?” Neteyam frowned, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger, “Are you saying he's been leading her on?”

“I don’t know, brother. You must speak with her,” Kiri shook her head, though the implication of her words were more than clear.

Kiri had never given much thought to the secrecy of Y/N and Kaye’s relationships before, but now, as she let her theory sink, the dots were finally connecting. Kaye never meant to mate with Y/N before Eywa.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Great,” Y/N mumbled sarcastically, spotting a figure crouching next to her hammock, “What are you doing here?”

Neteyam quickly rose to his feet, his muscles still a little sore from all the waiting. He quickly took in her features, and his guard fell down for a moment, registering the signs of sorrow. He had forgotten the reason for his arrival.

“Were you crying?” he asked, blatantly ignoring her question.

“Neteyam, I asked what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”

“About what happened? You mean your family forcing me into a union with you?” she threw with bitterness.

“Look, I know that you didn’t wish for this,” Neteyam raised his palms in the air to convey that he had no intention of perpetuating his grandmother's harshness, “But I think there is a way for us to work through it.”

“Are you serious?” she narrowed her eyes with a slight disbelief, “So that’s it? You’re just going along with this and following the orders. Do you even care about how I feel? No one does.”

Suddenly all of the hurt and helplessness she had been feeling gathered into a big bubble of anger that she wanted to unleash on Neteyam - the very person who was responsible for trapping her. Y/N crossed her arms over chest defensively, hoping that if she made him miserable and pushed him away, maybe Neteyam would use his power to break the arrangement.

“I’m only doing my duty, Y/N,” Neteyam explained, trying to maintain a calm tone, “And I do care, but sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good of the clan."

“This is ridiculous,” she scoffed bitterly, “You're carrying out your duty for the clan? Am I not part of the clan? Pick somebody else.”

“I can’t pick,” Neteyam gritted through his teeth, now feeling irritated too, “The sign and the orders were clear. All I can do is follow them.”

“It is concerning that as the future chief of this clan you’re incapable of making your own decisions,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom, "You're nothing but a coward."

Neteyam was taken aback. Was she really calling him a coward for respecting the tradition? He huffed, almost in disbelief, taking a pause before his mind could process the words she had hurled at him.

“Oh, you want to talk about being a coward?” he raised his voice slightly, taking a step closer to her.

Despite her frustration with him, Y/N’s ears lowered involuntarily at his proximity. Her body recognized and complied with his status, before she could even deny the authority that he held over her.

“Alright. Let’s say I am a coward and just following orders. Why didn’t you protest then? If you didn’t want this so much, why didn’t you bring up Kaye?”

Y/N's ears were now flat against her skull, and she downcasted her gaze in shame. With the rhythm of her heart, her tail swished rapidly on the ground, creating a small cloud of dust. Neteyam waited for her response, but met with silence, he continued.

"The union would have never been approved if you told them that you were already mated with another man."

“Kaye and I are not mated,” she muttered, stealing a glance at him through her lashes. She was too embarrassed to face him head on.

“Well, you could have still -” Neteyam stopped himself mid-sentence, pressing his lips into a thin line. He could see the way her form slumped and shoulders hunched further into herself, as if the topic was too sensitive to discuss. He let out a heavy sigh, his frustration with the situation starting to fade.

“I can’t do that,” Y/N replied, her voice still low and subdued, “It wouldn’t make a difference anyway.”

“Why can’t you?” Neteyam pressed, and his own anger was beginning to mount again, “It’s him, isn’t it? He doesn’t want others to know about you two?”

He wasn’t wrong at all but her blood boiled at the insinuation in his words regardless.

“Stop,” Y/N gritted her teeth, “He can’t do it, alright?”

“Can’t, or he won’t?”

“He can’t,” she was desperate to convince Neteyam that it was the truth - that there was a bigger reason, “And I won’t ask him to.”

“Does he at least know about it?” Neteyam sighed. When Y/N didn’t reply, it was already enough of an answer to him, “And he didn’t offer anything?”

“Just drop it, Neteyam. Don’t taunt me.”

“Fine, if you wish to keep being upset about it, then take all the time you need,” Neteyam exclaimed, mimicking his father's disappointed demeanor when dealing with his children, “But don’t expect me to solve this for you. If you despise the idea of being mated with me that much, perhaps Kaye and you should talk to Tsahik. I’m sure that will help. And if you won’t… then at least try a little harder to make life easy for the both of us.”

But as he brushed past her angrily, heading for his home, Neteyam realized that he wasn’t actually frustrated with Y/N or their situation anymore. Rather, it was the confirmation of the doubts he shared with Kiri that had him seething. Kaye was the root of the problem - his refusal to take responsibility for his actions, not owning up to them. The respect Neteyam once held for the warrior seemed to slip away from his body with each passing moment.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Oel ngati kameie,” Y/N greeted with a small bow, touching her fingers to her forehead as she glanced between Mo'at and the man beside her - Kaye’s father, “Please forgive me for my early arrival for the lesson, Tsahik. I will wait outside.”

She hastily apologized before stealing another glance at the man and slipping out of the tent. Y/N had sensed Kaye's parents' dislike for her for years, ever since her name was brought up in a certain context, which made being in their presence stressful. And as Kaye's father had never showed up at the healing tent, which was the only place where Y/N could breathe freely and focus on her studies, seeing him there now made her shiver. She kept a respectful distance from the tent, not wanting to overhear their conversation, but her mind raced relentlessly, wondering about the topic of it.

“You’re going to bite your lip off if you keep that up,” Kiri came into her view, gesturing at Y/N’s teeth digging into the plump of her lower lip.

“Oh, hey.”

“Aren’t you going in?” Kiri nodded towards the tent.

“Tsahik is busy. She is talking with Kaye’s father.”

Kiri nodded, understanding that they would have to wait for Tsahik to call them in once she was finished with her conversation. She crouched down next to Y/N and let the silence hang between them for a moment before speaking up.

"I'm sorry that you and Neteyam have to go along with the arrangement," Kiri said, turning her head to look at Y/N's face, "He came back angry after the conversation with you last night, so I assume you must have fought. If he was a skxawng to you, I can beat him up,” she added half-jokingly.

"It's okay, it wasn't his fault," Y/N sighed, looking down at her hands. "He's only doing what he has to do. It's me who can't..." she trailed off.

“So? Aren't you going to fight it?”

“I don’t think I can, Kiri. Not without… you know, not without the support.”

Kiri nodded in understanding. Though it was obvious that the support had to be offered by Kaye, Y/N still hesitated to mention his name. As if she was still trying to protect his privacy, letting him off the hook without attaching her name to his.

“For what it’s worth, my family likes you, and you can count on me to be your biggest ally,” Kiri's hands covered Y/N's, drawing her gaze.

"That's a relief," Y/N’s lip’s curved into a grateful smile, "Knowing that the future Tsahik has my back."

Kiri chuckled weakly but her grip on Y/N’s hands tightened, when both of them saw Kaye’s father exiting the tent. He directed a quick harsh gaze at Y/N before walking away.

"What could be so urgent that it brought him all the way here at this time?" Kiri rose to her feet and extended a hand to Y/N.

“I don’t know but it seemed important,” Y/N shrugged, accepting the help to stand up.

“I’ll ask grandmother,” Kiri announced, as they made their way towards the tent, ”Maybe it’s something about you.”

“You really think so?"

"It's possible.”

A glimmer of hope sparked in Y/N’s chest at the words. What if Kaye had finally spoken to his parents about her and asked them to approve of their love? Y/N’s thoughts wandered, as Kiri and her settled in on the ground, waiting for the arrival of the rest of the healers in teaching. Mo’at was already occupied with another quick chore, tending to a smoldering herb and paying the two women no mind.

“Grandmother?” Kiri addressed Mo’at hesitantly, only receiving a hum in response, “What did he want from you?”

“Not that it is any one of your concern,” Mo’at threw a quick look at her granddaughter over her shoulder, “But he asked me to bless a union between his son and Kaä’s daughter.”

With Mo'at's words, Y/N felt her heart sink. Surely, she meant Kaye - after all, his brothers were already mated. Was this it then? Was his father going to arrange a union for Kaye just like that? Kiri nervously gulped and glanced at Y/N.

“Grandmother, do you mean a union between Kaye and Yäyä?” Kiri asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Mo’at turned to face them with a stoic expression, “They will be here tonight for the blessing.”

As Kiri squeezed her hand, Y/N tried to hold back the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She blinked rapidly, fighting the tears. The image of Kaye holding Yäyä, kissing her, and being with her was overwhelming. It was all happening too soon, and Y/N hadn't even had time to process her own feelings about Kaye before hearing about his arranged union. Luckily, the silence was shattered as more healers entered the tent, their greetings filling the space and drowning out Y/N's inner turmoil. She struggled to compose herself, her mind racing with thoughts of confronting Kaye and getting some answers as soon as she could.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The wind whipped against Y/N's face as she flew towards the isolated floating island of the Hallelujah Mountains, where the training camp was set. Her ikran, usually steady and reliable, sensed her unease and reacted to it erratically, reflecting her determination to see Kaye. She paid no mind to the gazes of the warriors around her, as she landed on the edge of the island. Without hesitation, she hastily greeted Jake and asked to speak with one of his warriors. Her abruptness drew attention, making the others suddenly curious about a healer invading the training area.

“Sure, go ahead,” Jake granted her permission, never having seen her so eager and anxious before. The man shot a quick glance at his son, wondering if he knew the reason for Y/N's distress.

Kaye was as startled as everyone else with Y/N’s sudden appearance. He was in the middle of a sparring match with another warrior when he caught sight of her. For a moment, Kaye stood still, when she hurriedly approached him and led him away. The others looked on curiously at them, but Y/N paid no heed to their inquisitive glances. Neteyam hung his head in shame, already feeling his father’s eyes on him. He would have to explain this later - why his future mate was blatantly ignoring him and having a private conversation with another man.

But Y/N couldn’t wait, her heart was pounding to find out the truth. To ask if Kaye had even fought for her. Did he know about the arrangement and didn’t tell her? Let her cry into his arms, while he had a big secret of his own that he kept away.

“I deserve the truth, Kaye,” she demanded, her throat already ablaze with the harshness of her tone. It was a tone she had never used with him, not even during their worst fights, "When exactly were you going to tell me that your father had arranged a union for you and Yäyä?"

“Oh… so you know?” he stammered, his voice barely above the whisper. Kaye could sense the weight of the other warriors’ stares in the distance, but the heaviest of all was the way Y/N was looking at him. She was overflowed with anger and disappointment, and he knew that he deserved it, choosing to withhold the truth from her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I was only waiting for the right time.”

“The right time?” she repeated in disbelief, "What about the time when I confided in you about Mo'at's arrangement for me? Remember how I cried in your arms because I couldn't bear the thought of being forced into a life where I couldn't be with you?"

Kaye's ears drooped in shame as he reached for her arm, but Y/N stepped away from him with a sharp shake of her head. It felt as though his touch would sear her skin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you,” he shook his head, as if disappointed with himself, “But both of us knew that our time together was limited. I mean… you’re being forced into a union too, it’s not like either of us can defy tradition.”

“Maybe if you had fought for me,” tears began to well up in her eyes again, “If you had stood up for me and fought for me, none of this would have happened."

“Y/N -” he tried reaching for her again, but she turned on her heel and strode towards her ikran, wiping away her tears.

Kaye, and the rest of the warriors, watched in silence as she mounted her ikran in a swift motion, not bothering to even complete a Tsaheylu with the banshee, and took off into the sky.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Despite being far from the caves, Y/N was sure that she could hear the distant thudding of the drums and the soft humming of Mo'at. As if the intoxicating scent of burning herbs was filling her nostrils, and she was enveloped in a haze of smoke inside of the healing tent. Closing her eyes, too tired to keep them open, she saw Kaye holding hands with Yäyä, whispering words of blessing for their union as Tsahik presided over the private ceremony. Y/N pulled her knees closer to her chest, burying her face in her hands.

The memory of Kaye kissing her forehead and holding her close, comforting her with his soothing words, was now too painful to recall. She felt cold and numb, unable to face the reality of the situation. When she had fled from the mountains and found herself alone in the forest, she had lost all her emotions, along with her self-preservation. If she returned home and saw Kaye with Yäyä, she knew her heart wouldn't be able to handle it, so she decided to stay in the forest.

Her usual very aware self was so lost in thought that she barely paid attention to the rustling of the leaves. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment, once she realized that it wasn’t danger, but just Neteyam stepping from behind the bushes. She almost wished it was a sky person or a palulukan that came to take away her pain, replace her injured heart with something even worse and unbearable.

“Finally. I have been looking for you,” Neteyam announced, his voice cutting through the silence.

She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes lacking spark. Her freckles, usually prominent on her skin, seemed to blend in with the darkness of the forest, concealing her like a protective cloak. Neteyam could see that she was disconnected from the present, lost in her own thoughts. He sighed, taking a step closer and crouching down in front of her.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you but it is dangerous to be here alone by yourself. Everyone is worried.”

“I doubt many worry about me,” she attempted a scoff but the lack of energy faded it into a despondent mutter.

“Nonsense,” Neteyam shook his head.

Y/N studied him for a moment, searching for any ulterior motive behind his visit. Was he there merely out of duty to locate his ‘destined’ mate and ensure her safety after her outburst at the training camp? Could that be sufficient to make Tsahik regret her decision?

“I am sorry for the way I behaved earlier, in front of the others,” she spoke with a hint of hope appearing in her voice, “It might have ruined my chances of being mated to anyone.”

“See? I meant doing something bigger than that if you wanted to end this arrangement,” Neteyam regarded her with a teasing smile, “What you did only scratched the surface. And much to your disappointment, it was not enough.”

“Not like I planned it,” she scoffed, “I just had to talk to him before his ceremony with her…” Y/N trailed off.

“I get it,” Neteyam nodded in understanding, “You don’t have to apologize though. I can see that you’re hurting, and just so you know, I would never stand in your way if you’d want to see or talk to him sometimes in the future,” he sighed with a slight difficulty, as if the offer he made took much effort, “”s just make sure to keep it a secret. I can't be seen by the clan in such a way.”

She let out a breath, caught off guard by his offer, then frowned, as though it seemed too generous. Y/N had never seen Neteyam in this light before. While he was known for making sacrifices for the good of the clan, she had always thought it was simply part of his duty. Now, Y/N wasn't certain if he was performing for her or if Neteyam was genuinely trying to help. It seemed foolish for him to propose such a risky idea that could easily ruin his carefully-crafted reputation as the future chief. She found herself gaining trust in him.

“Thank you for the kindness,” Y/N finally spoke, her smile weak, "But there's no need for that. It's over between him and me. I won't revisit that history again."

Eywa makes no mistakes. Maybe this was her chance to mend things with Neteyam, and get on the right path. Maybe they could do this, build a strong bond on a mutual understanding, friendship, and share moments of solitude. They couldn’t be lovers, but they could become good partners. Maybe there was much more to Neteyam that Y/N yet had to see.

chapter 3 →

a/n: ik this is still a little slow but in the third chapter you're finally getting more neteyam x y/n)) please don't forget to show some love

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davids-cartoon-corkboard · 3 years ago

Text

Duplicatnation

The fandom's already put in a lot of work speculating about why Qi Xiaotian (QXT) has abandonment issues and how that's probably connected to why we know nothing about his bio family, but idk if I've seen anyone mention what the clones can “tell us” about the situation? The way they each go off the rails offers a lot of insight!

The Porty Clone (PXT) is very much a child’s idea of how being an adult works- he stays up as late as he wants, doing whatever he wants, and nobody can tell him what to do.

He even sounds like a child protesting bedtime: “Aw but fifteen houws I’m so sweepy- that’s what you sound like!”

He’s the only clone who has discarded his work shirt, another indicator that he Does Not Like Being Told What To Do.

Though he’s more than happy to tell other people what to do, since he easily got those bouncers and the clone swarm to obey him.

This suggests whoever QXT grew up with was the “Drill Sergeant” type of parent: “I am in charge and you will do what I say; and I will punish you if you so much as insinuate you don’t like my decisions.” I suppose they could just be some run-of-the-mill shithead, but Lego Monkie Kid can probably get more plot mileage out of making them a villain.

---

The Artist Clone (AXT) is “older” than PXT; instead of throwing a tantrum to get what he wants, he conforms to what others want from him in the hopes that he'll be rewarded (or at least not punished) for acting "correctly".

“Pretty good? Pretty good?! That’s not good enough! You asked me to help paint your boat, and that’s what I’m going to do. I won’t stop! Until it’s perfect!”

Naturally, he gets mad when Sha Dali doesn’t follow the “script”. Sha Dali is “supposed to" agree that AXT needs to be better by fully devoting himself to the task at hand. “Pretty good” is a deadly insult- if “pretty good” is all that Sha Dali expects, then he must not think AXT can reach perfection, and if AXT can’t reach perfection, then he’s not good enough, and if he's not good enough, then why even keep him around?

AXT responds by doubling down, because he can be perfect! He does have value! He’ll make Sha Dali see that!

Not to be a God Damn Homestuck, but all these paint splatters are definitely supposed to remind the audience of blood. If QXT’s parent is a villain, they are not of the comic relief variety.

---

The Delivery Clone (DXT) is distinct from the other two in that he actually deviated from his purpose! If he’d followed the pattern the other two had set, he would have performed his purpose too well, delivering his orders so quickly and in such large amounts that the shop would have run out of stock and been unable to serve its afternoon customers. He ate all the noodles and outright fought with Zhu Dachu because he represents QXT during the "snapback" part of his life- his parent demanded more and more from him until he had no more to give, at which point he realized trying to satisfy his parent was impossible and started turning all that effort towards himself instead, with less than ideal results.

QXT’s parent would have considered him to be no longer useful after that and abandoned him, so DXT probably also represents food insecurity.

---

Zhu Dachu started yelling at QXT, Sha Dali wanted AXT to stop trying so hard, Long Xiaojiao wanted to leave the arcade- each clone reacted the same way. “My loved one is unhappy with me” turned into “they’re going to abandon me” turned into “I can’t deal with that happening again” turned into “if they won’t stay voluntarily, I’ll make them stay.”

Perhaps the person who raised QXT wasn’t actually his bio parent, but kidnapped him from his bio family because they sensed his Super Special Hero Potential or something.

That the clones briefly showed up in “This is the End!” suggests they’re more permanent than the average clone, so I’m curious to see if they’ll provide more info in the future.

---

I haven’t read Journey to the West, so I’m casting this question out to the fandom at large: are there any Journey to the West characters that match my description of QXT’s hypothetical villainous parent?

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid theory #qi xiaotian #porty clone #artist clone #delivery clone #lmk mk #porty mk #artist mk #delivery mk #tl;dr sha dali should introduce qxt to his therapist #god this really is my favorite type of character huh #wherein the red one is just fucking falling apart at the seams #there's something going on with red son too i can just smell it #something something memory something something identity #anyway jttw is allegorical as fuck so i feel slightly less tinfoil-hat-y abt this theory than most

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theyandereonmyoji · 2 years ago

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Myoji-san, I'm so happy you're writing for sth :D !!! thank you for your lovely works - the quill petting one was so adorable and nicely fleshed out. Still can't get over Shadow being low-key needy for pets and finishing work earlier for it... I also hope your day is going nicely. I was wondering if I could respectfully request a love triangle hoho ( Shadow -> MC -> Silver ) ? I'm wondering how you'd write these two competing for the time & affection of another. If this is not something you'd like to write I completely understand, though I do so look forward to any of your future posts :･ﾟ☆

Rivalry: Yandere Shadow the Hedgehog and Yandere Silver the Hedgehog

Awww thank you so much! Don’t worry, love triangles are totally allowed! Also, I have to say that a couple of people have been asking for Silver content, so I’ll probably write headcanons for him really soon. Anyways, hope you enjoy! CW: mentions of potential murder

These two couldn’t be any more different at first glance. Shadow is the overly stoic type that keeps you at arm’s length (or tries to anyways, doesn’t really work as well as he thinks it does) and Silver, a hedgehog who’s somewhat naive and wears his heart up his sleeve, especially when to come to how much he loves you. However, they do have something in common, and that’s they will do anything, and I mean anything to keep you safe. These two have just suffered too much, one watched his best friend get murdered in the past, and the other was born in a future that was ruined from the start, they just want to have someone they can hold on to in the present, and that someone happens to be you.

Shadow’s more closed-off nature makes him a bit jealous of just how openly Silver can express his feelings towards you. The fact that you two are able to share so much with each other, that he can get so close to you without a care in the world, it’s something that Shadow wishes he could do, and loathes about the time-traveling hedgehog. He has come to terms that your relationship with him could never be like that, and he’s willing to do anything to keep you safe, no matter the cost, yet seeing how Silver has the same resolve as him and can allow himself to stay close to you, he loathes it. If Silver knows any better, he should stay away from you, lest he wants to be considered a threat to your safety.

Silver is willing to admit that Shadow is the stronger one out of the two, and he can’t help but envy a bit how reliable Shadow can be towards you. It doesn’t matter how big or small the issue might be, he’s not only willing, but also able to help you with literally anything. It makes him think: If you have Shadow in your life, then how could you ever spare a single glance at him? He wants to be your hero, yet how could he ever be if you had no need for someone like him? One thing is for sure, those thoughts are not going to stop him trying his absolute best for your sake, and who knows? Shadow might be a lot more dangerous than you think, so why go to him when you got Silver? He will never leave your side, ever.

You know how there’s that stereotype that girls pretend to not hate each other in front of others while giving each other death glares in private? Yup, that’s them. It all seems so normal while you’re around, hell, they don’t seem to mind that the other is there. However, the moment you have to go to do something and leave the two, they’ll start confronting each other. Shadow will state how inexperienced he is and that how could he ever keep you safe if he can even beat Shadow in a fair fight. Silver would get angry easily and point out how dangerous Shadow can be towards you with his dubious moral compass and that out of the two, he was the one that tried to destroy the world.

Stuff would rarely get physical, and even if it did, you would never find out. Obsessed with you as they may be, they’ve silently agreed to never involve you directly into any disputes they might have, whether it is one-upping each other in their efforts to have you pick them over the other, or just throwing hands in a good-old fashioned brawl. You might notice the small signs of their rivalry, like Shadow giving off Silver a smug look when you ask him for help, or Silver giggling towards Shadow a bit when you let him hug you, but it’s rather subtle and when you try to question it, both of them will go out of their way to deny any of that, even covering for each other sometimes.

Honestly, I see this rivalry going one of two ways. Worst case scenario, things will escalate so badly that they will eventually fight each other to the death, with the winner being able to live out the rest of their days alongside you. On the other, and most likely scenario, these two might be able to set their differences aside, and focus on what is truly important: protecting you at all cost. Rivals as they might be, they both are man enough to recognize that the other hedgehog has something they need but severely lack. They both want what is best for you, and even if still argue about who’s doing they job better, at least it’s a scenario where no one dies…you will have two overly powerful, protective and possessive hedgehogs though so good luck with that.

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere headcanons #yandere shadow the hedgehog #yandere x y/n #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #yandere silver #yandere silver the hedgehog #request #green tea

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cuttoothed · 4 years ago

Text

Fic for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt "Healing & Recovery". We've all been saying jmart need a lot of therapy after the finale, so...yeah.

Disclaimer: I have never been to couple's therapy. I have done some reading on it, but this is not intended in any way to accurately reflect real world therapy practices. Please just assume that anything "off" is due to the way couple's therapy is practiced in AU-land (though of course feel free to let me know if you spot anything egregious).

“Why don’t you start,” Judith suggests, “By telling me about the incident?”

The two men on the sofa give her identical startled looks, as if she’s uncovered something incriminating. Martin seems to regain his composure first; he clears his throat, and his hand moves to cover Jon’s, unconsciously protective.

“Sorry, wh-what do you mean by “incident”?”

“For most couples who come to see me, there’s an...inciting incident,” Judith explains. “Something that makes them realize they could use some professional support to work through things. Of course any couple can benefit from seeing a therapist together on occasion, to deal with small issues before they become big ones. But, well, it’s the same way that everyone knows they should go for regular check ups with their GP rather than waiting until they actually get sick—it’s just not something most people get around to until they need it.”

She pauses to give them time to consider that, and after a moment Jon nods, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Right,” he says. “That’s, ah, I think that’s fair.”

“There are pretty strong extenuating circumstances, though,” Martin huffs defensively. “We didn’t exactly have the option for therapy in the a—wh-where we lived before.”

“It’s not intended as a criticism,” Judith tells him. “You’ve chosen to talk to a therapist, and that’s a big step—one that many people never take. You’re ahead of the curve, Martin.”

Martin looks mollified at that; he’s clearly a bit touchy about perceived criticisms of their relationship, and Judith doesn’t want to get him on the defensive. She gives them both an encouraging smile.

“So,” she says. “Is there an incident you’d like to talk about?”

The two of them look at each other expectantly, as if each is waiting for the other to start. After several long moments of silence, Jon raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Martin sighs.

“Fine,” he says. “So, we, uh, we recently realized that our...garden was a-a bit of a mess. So we—Jon and I—we get together with our...housemates, to figure out what kind of flowers we should plant. Fuschias or—or hydrangeas. ”

He pauses to glance nervously at Jon, who gives him a reassuring nod, squeezing his hand.

Right, Judith thinks, This is probably not about flowers.

“We agree we all want fuschias,” Martin continues, “Except Jon—he wanted hydrangeas. But we took a vote, and it was fuschias.”

“Except of course most of our—our housemates weren’t there for that meeting,” Jon interjects, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, but we agreed we couldn’t wait to ask every single person,” Martin says sharply, back on the defensive. Jon’s brow furrows and his mouth opens as if to say something, but he changes his mind and shuts it again. Conflict aversion is one of the most common dysfunctions Judith sees in the couples she treats; very few people want to disagree with the person they love, and even fewer know how to have a constructive conflict. She makes a mental note of it for later.

“Go ahead, Martin,’ she suggests gently. Martin looks unhappy, but continues.

“So we agree to plant the fuschias the next day, but Jon—Jon sneaks out in the middle of the night and starts, uh, planting hydrangeas. Without telling anyone.”

Without telling me, Judith hears in his hurt tone. Jon’s arms are still folded, and he’s almost squirming in his seat with the effort to not interject; Judith decides it’s a good time to invite him into the story.

“Jon, why did you feel so strongly about the hydrangeas?”

“It’s—it wasn’t that I wanted hydrangeas, I just couldn’t a-accept the idea of—of fuchsias.”

“Couldn’t allow it, you mean,” Martin grumbles. Judith lets it pass and continues to focus on Jon.

“Why is that?”

“They, uh, they spread…” Jon waves his hands vaguely. “Their—their...roots? They would get into the, uh, the neighbors’ gardens, completely take over, destroy everything.”

“Potentially,” Martin insists. “There was no guarantee—”

“There was no reason they wouldn’t,” Jon snaps.

By now Judith is not only sure that this has nothing to do with gardening, but suspects that neither of these men has ever seen a fuchsia in their lives. It’s fine, though. This is far from the first time a client has invented a story out of whole cloth so they can work through something uncomfortable without actually describing it. And this is their first session; Judith hopes in the future they’ll trust her enough to give her the real story.

“Remember,” she tells them. “We’re not here to decide that someone was objectively right or wrong, we’re here to help you understand each other and improve your communication skills.”

“Right,” Martin mutters, unconvinced. Jon’s expression is distressed, but he continues.

“There was no other choice,” he says wearily. “The only other option was—was azaleas, and I know you didn’t want that, Martin.”

“Absolutely not.” Martin sounds horrified. “But hydrangeas, Jon? Do you really think that was a better option?”

“You have to see the difference.” Jon’s tone goes stiff and incredulous, as if he’s winding up for a lecture, and Judith decides to cut that off before it starts.

“So what I’m hearing,” she says, “Is that you both had very strong, conflicting opinions on this topic. And that’s okay—it’s okay for you to disagree, even on something important. You’re not always going to agree on what the right thing to do is. Often there is no single “right thing,” so it comes down to how the different choices make us feel.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good way to make a decision that affects the wh—a lot of people.” Jon clearly considers that his opinion on not-flowers was the objectively correct one. Judith smiles.

“People aren’t computers, Jon. Even the most logical minded person in the world is influenced by their feelings—about important issues, about other people. You’d be surprised at how much of our decision making is rooted in emotion; either how we anticipate the outcome of our decision will make us feel, or how we are feeling in the immediate moment of the choice.”

A spasm of something that might be grief or pain flashes across Jon’s face, and he leans unconsciously in Martin’s direction. Martin’s arm instantly goes around him, offering comfort without thought. It’s clear that these two love each other deeply, unquestioningly—and that’s also part of the problem. When someone you love thinks that you’re wrong about something that’s important to you, it can feel like a rejection of your entire self.

“I’d like to pause this discussion for now, and try a little exercise,” she says. Jon nods, sitting back up and disengaging from Martin’s embrace; Martin looks attentively at her, though his expression is unsure.

“One of the biggest challenges we face with people we love is recognizing that they are separate from us. I know—” she says, raising her hands to stop the objections she can already see forming on their lips. “Of course you know that you’re separate people. We all know that, rationally. But emotionally, it’s natural to see the people you’re close to as extensions of yourself—it’s an evolutionary impulse to aid group bonding. It happens with friends and family, and it’s an even stronger impulse between partners.

“We have to do a lot of work to truly internalize the idea that the people we love have their own inner emotional lives that drive their opinions and decisions. But once you are able to fully grasp that truth, it makes disagreeing with the person you love feel less emotionally fraught; it’s a powerful tool for navigating conflict constructively.”

Jon is frowning, but it’s in consideration rather than disapproval. Martin still looks skeptical, his body language defensive, though he doesn’t say anything. That’s probably the best she’s going to get for now, Judith thinks.

“So,” she says. “The exercise is this: I’d like each of you to take a few moments to think, and then tell the other person something about yourself. Not a fact, but something that you feel. And I would like you to listen without interrupting when your partner tells you their feeling. Can you each do that?”

“I, ah—” Jon’s frown deepens. “That’s...rather difficult to do on demand.”

“I know,” says Judith with sympathy. “That’s why I’m here, to support you both in doing the difficult things. If it was easy, you wouldn’t need a therapist to facilitate.”

“Right,” says Jon. “Okay.”

“Martin?”

“Fine,” he says, but his tone is reluctant. Judith gets it; vulnerability is hard enough in front of someone you love, never mind with a stranger in the room. It’s easier to pretend that it’s pointless, that you’re not really putting yourself out there to be hurt. She has the feeling that Martin is someone who would rather avoid being hurt, even if it means closing himself off.

“All right,” she says. “When you’re ready, Jon, would you mind going first? No rush, take all the time you need.” Hopefully, seeing Jon take the first step might help Martin get over some of his defensiveness.

“Oh,” he says, and for a few moments his expression devolves into one of intense concentration. Then he nods, turning towards Martin.

“Start with “I feel”,” Judith suggests.

“All right,” he says, breathless with nerves. “I, uh, I feel...responsible. For—well, for everything, basically. And for everyone. Bad things have happened to people, and it’s my fault, because I should have done something. Everything that happened, back there, it was all because of me.”

“It wasn’t you, Jon!” Martin protests. “Annabelle told us—”

Judith is about to remind him that he’s supposed to just be listening, but he cuts himself off first. Jon laughs, an ugly sound that’s more like a sob.

“And how is that supposed to help? Knowing that the—that they were using me my whole life, how does that absolve me of any responsibility for what I did? For the fact that I failed to do anything to stop them? I couldn’t even go through with the one thing that could have actually meant something, because—”

He clamps his mouth shut, his jaw locked tight; Martin looks down at his hands, his expression distraught.

“Because of me.”

“Martin—” Jon’s tone is wounded, and he reaches for Martin’s hand. Judith sees reflections of a shared pain in both their faces, though she doesn’t understand why; this would be a lot easier if they’d just tell her the truth.

But you didn’t get into this profession because it was easy, did you?

“Thank you for sharing that, Jon. I think there’s a lot more for us to explore there, but let’s give you a break and give Martin a chance to share, okay?”

Jon nods, clutching Martin’s hand in his. Martin gives a long, slow exhale.

“Righto,” he says with false, brittle cheer. “”I feel,” wasn’t it? Right. Jon, when you do something stupidly self-sacrificing for other people, I feel like everyone else is more important than me.”

Jon flinches.

“Martin,” Judith says, keeping her tone level. “Let’s keep the focus on what you feel, not on what causes you to feel that way, okay?”

“Right,” Martin mutters, and glances at Jon. “Okay. In that case, I feel...like I’m not important. Like the only thing I can really do is—is take care of you. And if I can’t even do that, then what bloody use am I? That’s it, I suppose.”

“Martin…” Jon says again, softly. His eyes are wet, and he’s clinging to Martin’s hand like a drowning man to a plank. Martin swallows hard and shakes his head, but he makes no move to extract his hand from Jon’s grip.

“Thank you, Martin,” Judith tells him. “I know that wasn’t easy to share, for either of you. But this is the kind of honesty that we need, in order to build strong communication. Let’s all take five minutes—if either of you want to take a bathroom break, or get some water—and then we can talk about where to go from here. All right?”

Martin disappears to the loo, while Jon wanders around the office, looking with polite interest at the shelves of books and ornaments. Judith writes a few notes for herself, to follow up in future sessions. She hopes there’ll be future sessions. Both of these men seem deeply hurt, traumatized by events that they’re just barely alluding to, and have clearly been struggling through as best they can with less than ideal coping mechanisms, trying—and likely failing—not to hurt each other in the process. They both need individual counselling as much as couples’ therapy—maybe more. She’s certainly going to recommend it..

They clearly love each other, though. And they want to make it work. If they’re willing to put the effort in, they have better than even odds in their favor.

Martin’s eyes are red-rimmed when he returns; he sits on the sofa as near as he can to Jon, who presses their shoulders together. Judith can’t help smiling at the sight.

“How long have the two of you been together?” she asks. She always asks new clients at the end of the first session, rather than at the beginning; that way she can get a feel for the relationship without preconceptions based on longevity. The two of them look at each other properly, for the first time since Martin came back in, and matching, sheepish smiles break out on both their faces after a moment.

“So it was three weeks in Scotland,” Martin begins, ticking it off on his fingers. “And then—how long?”

“Uhh, it’s...let’s say half a year, give or take?” Jon makes a face that says he’s really not all that sure.

“Right, and then we’ve been here nearly six months. So...about a year, all in all?”

“But we knew each other for over three years before that,” Jon insists earnestly.

“It sounds as if the two of you have been through a lot,” says Judith. “And not all of it gardening related?”

“No,” Jon says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Mostly not.”

“We barely scratched the surface today—and that’s normal. Relationships are complicated, and it takes a lot of time and hard work to build understanding and communication. But I promise you, it is worth all the effort. You both made a really strong start today—it takes courage to be that honest, even with your partner.”

The two of them give each other a long look, and the smile they trade is tentative, but genuine. They haven’t solved anything today, have only just begun to reveal their hurt and their insecurities; they have a long journey ahead to get to a truly honest, healthy place both for themselves and their relationship. Judith has a feeling they’ll persevere, though—that losing each other simply isn’t an option.

“So,” she says, “Should we make this a recurring appointment?”

Jon glances questioningly at Martin, who bites his lip and then nods firmly, taking Jon’s hand in his.

“Yeah,” Martin says. “We’ve done much harder things. We can do this.”

“Together?” says Jon, and Martin smiles.

“No matter what.”

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartinweek2021 #my fic #jonmartin

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tainted-wine · 4 years ago

Text

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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