#but if he showed up there later after having burned most of his resources to talzin's clan they at least have a chance of

[redbean-nom]

the contrast between elsbeth's tribe (nightsister... commoners? peasants? villagers?) fighting grievous vs talzin's clan (nightsister royalty) is so funny like.

elsbeth's clan: probably-Mother Selena dueling grievous with two fire sickles that melt/short out when hit by lightsabers (grievous didn't even split his arms! it's literally a leisurely spar for him). approximately three archers in the background. one single unit of B1s and B2s plus possibly a handful of commando droids. elsbeth hiding in a tree and falling out.

talzin's clan: Mother Talzin voodooing Dooku from the castle basement and then levitating in a giant electric sphere and zapping the entire droid army for like five minutes straight. Ventress dueling four-arms grievous for equally long. An entire army of archers casually force-speed/force-jumping over entire trees. Grievous' full fleet, a bomber squad, a unit of commando droids, magnaguards, state of the art experimental tanks, more regular tanks, and a full army of B1s/B2s. Daka long-distance-necromancing the entire clan and resurrecting every single dead nightsister in the entire region. Talzin finally not-surrending by turning herself into a force ghost and then promptly going to start a cult to revive herself/the dead nightsisters.

[sufferu]

Question, sorry if it’s been asked and answered before. How do you think the cast would react to pride if? Both the envy route and the pride route, what would be the alternative reactions to it? I can imagine the pride route characters after the viewing immediately deciding to go the imprisonment route of containing Subaru because killing him won’t work. And I’m not quite sure how the envy route would react to an alternate timeline of events, but definitely most likely horrified by this route. But you can ignore the envy route questions if you want, but the pride if is very interesting, especially if it’s the exact same cast as dog show. (Again sorry if this has been asked before, and apologies in advance for any follow up questions I might ask later)

Okay so, I feel like you’re asking me two different questions? By that I mean, with two different casts—

1) Original Dogshow Cast, beginning of Arc 5

Honestly I don’t think they’d even take it seriously. Like, maybe at first they’d be taking it seriously, as they watch those first three loops and maybe even those first few scenes of the Ayamatsu story (Rachins freaks at the idea of Subaru straight up murdering him in that alley but like. He DID kill Subaru first, so…) but then it’s like — sometime between Subaru getting a Gospel and Subaru becoming besties with Petelgeuse, everyone one by one completely loses the ability to actually go along with all this. It’s just too much: they KNOW Subaru, and the idea of Subaru going and doing all the bullshit he does in Ayamatsu is so ridiculous that it completely destroys their suspension of disbelief and now they’re all basically watching the corniest slasher movie fanfic they could have conceived of.

Reinhard is horrified at the burning of Lugunica, but that’s more at the idea that the version of himself onscreen can’t do anything about something so awful than it is about Subaru, specifically. Otto shivers at the idea of becoming a debt slave due to Subaru never stepping in to help him with that oil problem, but he puts it aside easily enough as things go on. At one point Ferris almost snaps out of it due to the horror of Crusch being erased, but then it’s followed up by “Subaru brainwashes Ferris into becoming his loyal servant” and now Ferris has decided that he will absolutely never let real!Subaru live down this bullshit parody version of himself, ever. The only person in that room who I think would be seriously traumatized by all that is Subaru himself, whose horrified reactions completely ease everyone else’s concerns about any of this EVER becoming a reality, because — look at him. Afterwards it’s like, “Okay, so — Ferris, stop laughing — those first three loops, did THEY actually happen?” “I’m so glad we got that cheesy-ass fanfic to ease some tension, god I needed that…”

But even that is just considering like — did they see those first three loops, or did they get catapulted into Ayamatsu with no context? Because if they got catapulted into Ayamatsu with no context then absolutely nobody is taking any of this seriously, from basically the moment Subaru kills Tonchinkan in the alley. (Except maybe Subaru, who at least recognizes that Return By Death is a thing that exists.)

2) Pre-Series Cast who never met Subaru before in their lives and is therefore at risk of entering the Ayamatsu route

This is the one time so far where the word “imprisonment” actually fits with what everyone is planning. Like okay — in regular Dogshow, the closest thing to that concept is “we need to put him on suicide watch,” and the one time that idea was developed past anything beyond throwing stuff at a wall and seeing what might stick as a half-decent idea, it was Crusch turning to Wilhelm and saying, “The Astrea Family has the resources to care for a suicide risk. How do you feel about a new grandson?” —But in THIS case, Subaru isn’t their friend: he’s a threat. As soon as he shows up, they’re gonna trap him and imprison him somewhere where he cannot die and keep him there until they figure out a way to neutralize the threat he represents for good.

If Subaru is right there with them and also pre-series, then they might be a little more assured simply because he’s just going “WHAT THE FUCK???” more and more as things go on. They manage to talk to him a bit before he disappears and kinda settle on “Alright, you would probably never do this, but we can’t take that chance — so in case you DO come here we’re just gonna prepare a room in the castle or something for you so that we can keep you secure just — for everyone’s sake.” “You guys have a castle???” The anticlimactic comedy skit of the ages. Subaru gets Isekai’d and immediately wanders over to the knight’s tower to wait for someone to come pick him up. “…You want some chips?” Most surreal series of events ever.

(They’re totally willing to just let him freeload indefinitely so long as he Stays Where They Can See Him, but eventually he convinced them to at least let him do SOMETHING to earn his keep, cause that’s the kind of guy he is. Subaru becomes the royal tailor. Nobody can answer the question of how he got the job, but at least he’s good at it, so whatever.)

[fincik]

Been a while since I updated. Quick doodle with some story for y'all

First | Previous | Next

After the thorough explanation Vermon’s curiosity was satisfied. Though he still wanted to know who attacked them and why. Quickcell didn’t volunteer the information he knows about them either. He’d like to hide in his pretend obliviousness a little while. It’s not like he’s specifically being hunted down so all the others need to know for now is they are in danger and they need to flee. Vermon’s most burning question has been answered now so he drifted off to sleep at a speed Quickcell would only hope to experience. The adults and the kids were sleeping too. But Quickcell has been awakened and now his mind wont let him sleep again. His thoughts centered around survival. He needs resources, shelter, and to predict his enemies movements to secure some semblance of safety. He started calculating: It took him a bit longer than a day to get to the valley from where his family was attacked, and it took the pursuers around a week to catch up. They just flew from afternoon to dawn. At this rate they bought themselves around 4 days of peace until the pursuers catch up and that’s IF they continue the same pattern of behaviour. But that was not guaranteed and he didn’t have enough data to make any predictions. He jolted at the sudden feeling of being watched and found Scorcher staring at him from where he laid. His eyes glowed softly as the rays of a full moon fell upon his figure. Now that Quickcell can get a closer look he realised what his red scales hide very well; Scorcher’s skin is a patchwork of old wounds, marks and burnt scales. The kinds of injuries you don’t get from a peaceful life.

“You’ve been through a lot haven’t you, little one?” – he said, his voice gentle like the morning breeze.

Qickcell was speechless. He was amazed about the number of scars this dragon has, the goofy exterior he’s seen when he saw them playing in the sky, his gentle words, but most importantly his eyes. Those eyes spoke of the same hardships he’s been experiencing. A life of trouble and danger. Eyes that know how to survive. Not just survive, but fight for survival! For the first time in maybe forever, Quickcell’s nerves calmed as he stared into those piercing orange eyes. And although he hadn’t wanted to share the information he knew with Vermon, somehow, he started into the whole story of how he got here.

“We were on the run. We were always on the run...Though at some points it did feel like it was just a fun family trip. We’ve met a few different dragons on our way. But one day we had guests, it was 3 very big dragons. They had 2 legs and were using their wings to assist them in walking. They were mean. They told us to get out of their territory. And we did. They followed us to their border and let us go. But a few days later they showed up with the same demands. Again and again they did this. For 3 weeks we weren’t able to remain in the same place for more than 2 days. We aren’t built for constant flying, we’re built for speed. This exhausted all of us. And then they decided they had enough of us. Attacked us brutally. They got the jump on mom and when dad went to help, the dragon that pinned mom down ignited himself on fire. I’ve never seen something like that. It burned my dad’s mouth. I am not sure if he can still shoot at all. But my parents told me to run. To find a safe place and wait for them. That they’ll be fine, I just need to get out. I flew as far as I could. When I had to land to rest and hunt, that’s when I met Vermon.” – he didn’t realize but while telling the story, tears started down his face. He quickly wiped them off and steeled himself. – “Anyway, if those dragons are now here we have to go as far as we can!” – he looked up but only saw a sea of red as Scorcher pulled him into a big hug.

“Don’t worry kiddo. You just relax and let the adults handle it.”

Quickcell found unexpected comfort in Scorcher’s words. He’s heard almost the exact same sentence from his own dad but it was somehow more reassuring coming from Scorcher. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to get him to sleep through the night. He woke up to every single sound the night has produced. The only reason he could fall back asleep is because Scorcher was curled up around him and though still half-asleep he was clearly monitoring all the sounds around them.

[planetaryaether]

unfortunately i really don't have the time or the attention span to keep up with livestreaming or vods so have just been seing stuff about kirbycraft on dash. If you know/it's too much trouble could you give me the cliffnotes of Rythian kirbycraft stuff of importance?

Apologies for the late response! I was a few streams behind on KirbyCraft so I wanted to be fully caught up before answering. So KirbyCraft isn't really a rp but there is some lore and plenty of nods to Blackrock, so I have broken it down by stream in case there is a specific moment you are interested in/want to watch for yourself!

Stream 1: 20/01/2023 - Rythian died immediately - Rythian "finagled" his way into the group - "You can't trust endermen" - Ryhian is the only one with a brain cell "deep breaths rythian, deep breaths" - (Exasperated) "don't cause trouble with the endermen!" "don't cause war with the endermen, that's like 3 seasons from now" - "I can give you all the lore if you want" "Their entire world got ruined by a big ol' magical experiment so now it's a wasteland" - (after being called edgy) "listen. edge is my history. I can't pretend I wasn't an edgy boy. I'm holding onto that" - In response to "if we're cold, they're cold" about endermen "He's not cold - he comes from a dimension of void. He has no sense of temperature!"

Stream 2: 27/01/2023 - Rythian is assigned the leaky room below the farm (even out of rp rythian gets the shitty room)

Stream 3: 03/02/2023 - Rythian is a canonical boob man - (In response to Briony being excited about the idea of getting an enderman to pick up a pumpkin) "why are you so excited about an enderman, they re evil" "Briony, you are so naive, you'll be the death of me one day"

Stream 4: 10/02/2023 - (About endermen) "I may or may not speak that language"

Stream 5: 24/02/2023 - Au is different from blackrock lore (Rythian can be friends with endermen)

Stream 6: 03/03/2023 - The gang decides to live in a woodland mansion Rythian's wrestling intro is "the voodoo people" (pendulum remix) by Prodegy - "I may not have a finatical hatred for endermen, based on my character's backstory, anymore, but they're still dangerous enemies!" - Rythian goes into how he joined the Yogscast and that he has always had a passion for creative projects so the moment he had the chance to make one, he made Blackrock

Stream 7: 10/03/2023 - Rythian says endermen deserve nothing but then backtracks and says they can have a block. Is deemed a "big softie" for showing the smallest amount of not-hatred towards endermen - Rythian blames a portion of their house burning on an enderman - Rythian (about getting xp back after dying) "I guess I gotta go either go on a killing spree or find some nether quarts I suppose" Briony "Oh, no it's happening. Rythian has reached peak evil Rythian" "It's the evil alt-rythian"

Stream 8: 17/03/2023 - "Beginning of my villain arc? maybe" literally 5 seconds later quotes the lil jon remix of cooking by the Book - Kirsty calls the idea of the end cute Rythian: "It's not. It's terrifying and despair enducing"

Stream 9: 31/03/2023 - Rythian suggests giving the enderman that lives in their house a gift (something pretty that grows) because the End is devoid of anything twits a conversation about bears to (half-jokingly) say that it is okay that he kills endermen because it is 'in his nature'

Stream 10: 14/04/2023 - Only briony can tame endermen by looking them in the eye. Rythian jokes about how many mystery mods are in the mod pack and how he would prefer that all endermen are automatically hostile and "go full-on ender-war" - Rythian is against adding a big-titty-endermen mod - Because the end was transformed into a wasteland with no resources/food, its inhabitants changed into a form that could survive without sustenance. Endermen can survive most poisons, diseases, and curses. - Rythian compares the 'friendermen' to slave soldiers - Rythian describes as an "angy boy" - Originally Nilesy was supposed to be a part of KirbyCraft

Stream 11: 21/04/2023 - Rythian doesn't like that the endermen seem to think that their mansion is a safe place for them - Rythian tries to befriend an enderman and it says "I remember you" - Rythian acknowledges the usefulness of befriending endermen

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Quarterfinal

Urwen vs Eldacar of Gondor

Urwen:

Also known as Lalaith, she was the elder daughter of Húrin and Morwen and died age three of the Evil Breath from Angband.

MY SWEET LAUGHING DAUGHTER SHE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER

In response to her death, Hurin says this "Marrer of Middle-earth, would that I might see you face to face, and mar you as my lord Fingolfin did!' His love and subsequent loss of her is definitely a motivator, I think, for his later valiant defiance of Morgoth! So she may have died young but she had a big impact. (I mean if we want to apply the butterfly effect she kinda caused the fall of Nargothrond: motivated Hurin to deny Morgoth, got Turin cursed to give really bad advice about bridges, no more Nargothrond.  How many 3 year olds could claim that? Also more seriously, a lot of the deaths in the Silm are violent and awful. But we little of mundane, quiet deaths from sickness. A young child dying in this way stands out in its more realist tragedy. And it shows the subtler ways Morgoth sowed despair in middle earth and also that he knew the Edain were a threat. The 'evil breath' mostly killed 'the children or the rising youth in the houses of Men.'

Eldacar of Gondor:

The twenty-first King of Gondor, also known as Vinitharya. During his reign the conflict known as the Kin-strife occurred and he was forced from his throne for ten years.

The blorbo of all time actually. He’s the protagonist of one of the most interesting stories in the LoTR appendices, the Kin-strife, and everything about his life story is so fascinating! His father was the crown prince of Gondor and his mother was the princess of Rhovanion so not a Númenorean. As a result all the racist nobles of Gondor made noises about how Eldacar was of “lesser race” and wouldn’t live as long as a “true Dúnadan”. One of the most fascinating examples of fantasy racism in Tolkien’s works imo – the bigotry is awful but the bigots have a shield to hide behind! Obviously their concerns are actually valid because they just don’t want their king to die young! (Their concerns aren’t valid. But I think the worldbuilding here is great.) Anyway Eldacar was born in Rhovanion and given the birth-name Vinitharya, but when he returned to Gondor aged five he was obliged to take up the Quenya name Eldacar, presumably to pacify all the racists in Gondor. He’s the EMBODIMENT of mixed-race/immigrant child trauma my beloved. Eventually his father died and he ascended to the throne of Gondor, but then his shitty second cousin Castamir (all my homies hate Castamir he’s the worst) started the civil war known as the Kin-strife and usurped Eldacar’s throne. Eldacar was forced to flee north to Rhovanion but Castamir captured his eldest son Ornendil and had him cruelly put to death which is SO SAD. But Eldacar, being brave and resourceful and clever and extremely cool, put together an alliance with his mother’s kinsfolk in Rhovanion and after ten years reclaimed his throne, which turned out to be slightly easier than expected because Castamir was The Worst and all his subjects hated him. And Eldacar PERSONALLY fought and killed Castamir HIMSELF and AVENGED HIS SON which is extremely important when you consider all the cringefail elves in the legendarium whose quests for revenge didn’t really go anywhere at all. Then he lived to be 235 proving that all the idiot racists who were worried about his lifespan didn’t have any idea what they were talking about, as is par for the course with racists. Also the Kin-strife itself has such far-reaching consequences for the history of Gondor! The Corsairs of Umbar, Gondor’s long-standing enemies, are actually followers of the descendants of Castamir. And during the Usurpation of Castamir Osgiliath was sacked and burned, leading to the beginning of its decline as Gondor’s greatest city. Even though Eldacar’s story is, to me, ultimately hopeful, it’s also such a fascinating turning point in the history of Gondor. Also ALSO he’s explicitly surrounded by textual ghosts which is really fascinating. His father Valacar has “children” plural – so Eldacar had siblings!! What were they like? How did they react to it all? And his son Aldamir is described as Eldacar’s second son and third child, meaning that he had a daughter too. Who was she?? What happened to her? He’s such a blorbo and there’s so much interesting stuff to dig into around him and he has to win this entire tournament please please please❤️

Quarterfinals masterpost

[fountainpenguin]

👁️ Neighborhood Watch AU 👁️

A gritty interpretation of the 3rd Life Series, with the first 5 seasons mashed into a single timeline.

3rd Life SMP Series

More MCYT AUs

#ridwork guides

What Is This AU?

Slice-of-life stories about mob hybrids in a dystopian society full of violent Red Names. The objective? Survive.

The Four Lands are home to several large cultures, most notably those of Dogwarts, Magical Mountain, the East Woods, and the Southlands. While they have their differences, one cultural idea stands strong:

Find your soulmate, protect them with your life, and avoid dying at all costs... lest you join the ranks of Reds and turn on those you once called "Friend."

AO3 Series

Blog tag - #Neighborhood Watch AU

Character Doc - Species and brief details on each character in the series, plus the Red-Clocker-Ties'g family tree

Tone

Gritty, dark, and dramatic with humor, fluff, and romance mixed in.

Characters

- Life Series ensemble, with a focus on:

- The Clockers (Cleo, Etho, Scar, Bdubs)

- Divorce Quartet (Cleo, Martyn, Scott, Pearl)

- Grian (Universe swapper)

- Scar [Oscar Goodchild] (Desperate to escape the Four Lands)

- Ren and BigB (Dogwarts royalty raising their son, Kase [Box])

- Joel (Raised in a culture a step outside the Four Lands)

Ships

Relationships range from "marriage of convenience" to romantic. Notable ones:

- The Double Life soulmate pairs are generally together, as society encourages this. Scott and Pearl were married (QPR) until splitting, hence divorce quartet. Also, Grian pines after BigB.

- Martyn/Mumbo (Betrothed by King Ren; pre-Nether exile).

- Cleo married Bdubs in line with 3rd Life canon, but they parted ways. Later, she married Etho (Limited Life) and Bdubs married Impulse (Double Life).

- Martyn hopes to win over Cleo, though by that point she's twice divorced and raising two kids... and not thrilled her soulmate took his time showing up.

- Background flower husbands.

- Cleo signs up for a program to act as a soulmate to those who don't know theirs and feel lonely. She's paired with Skizz and they become close over time.

-> Skizz recognized Martyn as Cleo's soulmate due to a burn mark on his thigh. Skizz says he sees that mark whenever Cleo wears shorts, but Martyn thinks it's innuendo, so take it as you will.

- The character doc covers characters and ships in more detail, using surnames to separate characters with the same first name.

Setting

Map I drew for "For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)"

- Dystopian fantasy world. The Four Lands do their best to thrive despite Red Names and anarchy.

- Many resources have been mined over the years, leaving things like diamonds, shulker boxes, and elytra rare. Lack of diamonds means lack of Nether portals. The Nether is largely unknown and frightening.

- The Red Desert stretches northeast until you reach Mezalea; the Coral Isles are to the west. Ghost town of Valentine Pier is in the northwest.

- Time passes slowly. For example, running a mob farm requires raising mobs from birth and harvesting their resources months or even years down the line.

- 12-page doc containing my measurement notes for things like world size and travel time (hybrid wings vs. horses) and all my sources for that info. Readers don't need to know this stuff, but it's interesting if you like meta.

- Most works taste place in the Westlands or the Southlands. Specifically, in the west up on that cliff by the bay. Breadcrumb Beach is in the south.

- Grian's Guide to the Four Lands [WIP; unrevealed]

Is It For Me?

- This series delves into darker, grittier themes than most of my work. My goal is for G and T content to be read standalone if you choose to skip M or E content.

- Martyn [Phantom hybrid] hides his wings and stays undercover so he won't be attacked for his membranes. Also, he and several other characters eat roadkill (and other dead things they find).

- Reds feel little beyond murder urges and tend towards violence, aggression, and destruction (Ex: Red Etho cutting the wings off his pet phantom because he's bored).

- Lots of ships in this universe. They still have drama, but are less likely to split than in the Pixels Imperfect AU, where relationships are closer to roleplay.

- More emphasis on things like romance, sexuality, and sensuality than my other works, though a lot of pairs are soulmates living together (and not necessarily in love). Several bad sex scenes on purpose. #Sorry.

Major Themes

Strength, kindness, self-sacrifice, caretaking, humility, defining love in your own way, recovery, found family.

Plot Highlights

- Martyn was the King's Hand until he went Red and lost everything... Exiled to the Nether for his crimes.

- BigB was just Some Baker's Son before Red King Ren tracked him down. Now he's royalty.

- Etho and Cleo struggling to raise their kids while having a rocky relationship. Scar was born when they were Red. That went great.

- Wizard Scar makes contracts and catches people in his web.

- Martyn and Pearl join a singles support group (Broken Hearts Club).

- The Grian born in NW AU and the Grian born in Pixels Imperfect AU switched places after EVO. They're both fumbling, trying to figure out each other's worlds.

- Relationship therapy on a yacht

Ongoing?

Drafts for this AU began in 2022, with the first work posted October 2023. This series is ongoing with 70k words posted so far.

- Currently has infrequent updates since I'm posting a lot of other 'fics, but is expected to update often throughout 2025 (and future years) until its end.

Warnings, notes, and explanations below so readers can learn more about this AU. Dead dove. Don't like? Don't read.

👀 Take a Peek

New here? You might like to start with these:

- For now, the options below are great starting options. This section may be updated as more works are added to the series.

Start Reading

Recommended ways to get into the full AU

🌄 First Written - "Scary Stories For Young Fox Hybrids"

(T - 7800 words) - To give Cleo a weekend alone, Skizz brings Bdubs and Scar with him on what would normally be a Solo Skizz resource-scavenging trip. They didn't expect the wounded phantom hybrid lurking in an abandoned game show studio.

- Easy introduction to world lore. Kids explore, Skizz teaches them things, brotherly play, soulmate mentions, and crafting magic too. Lore from multiple seasons weaves together.

This piece has a sequel - "Enter Mr. Littlewood" - as Scar and Bdubs get to know their new friend.

The Cornflower Waltz subseries contains all works for the "Cleo & Martyn post-Clockers divorce" arc. This is the main arc for this AU.

↔️ Grian's Universe Swap - "For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)"

(T - 37k words) - When Grian Ties’g was 16, the last Totem of Undying in the known world swapped his soul with the Grian one universe to the left… sparing him a perma-death, but at what cost?

An overwhelmed Grian Xelqua - who did not sign up for this, thank you very much - jolts awake in a world where Red Names are no joke and stealing someone’s life is fair play.

And a very Red Tango now has a sword at his throat. ❤️

- Discover world lore alongside Grian, who just showed up and doesn't know any more than you do. Actually, probably less.

This piece has a sequel: "Goodchild Oscar"

📅 Chronological Start - "The Children of Dust and Ashes"

(G - 5000 words) - Teens Gem, Scott, and Impulse are stranded on a cherry wood mountain due to a zombie outbreak in the next town. Skizz looks after them as they set up camp for the night.

Also, Impulse gets possessed by the spirit of a long-dead builder who really, really liked cherry wood.

- Covers the basics of crafting magic, flight magic, and some decent world lore for a starting piece.

🗺️ Worldbuilding - Grian's Guide to the Four Lands

- Mob hybrids are built like satyrs.

- In Pixels Imperfect AU, Grian has a purple soul because he swapped in from NW. Likewise, our Grian has a blue soul because he came from the Pixels AU.

- Locals form soulmate bonds during puberty, linking them to a person they may not know who may live far across the land.

-> The Double Life soulmate pairs remain consistent since this AU is based on canon, so all the Bdubs are soulmates with Impulses, all the Cleos with Martyns, and so on. Small exception for occasional Grian-Joel pairs, as they were soulmates in Secret Life.

-> The culture places heavy emphasis on finding your soulmate and working together as a team before it's too late.

- Causing someone's perma-death will boost you up a life. Notably, Pearl got a mass kill during "With Acid In Your Eyes" that boosted her and Scott to 24 lives within 3 seconds.

- Residents of this world use mining and crafting magic. They master it as they grow older, but can only mine soft blocks (wool, dirt) when they're young.

- Dogwarts holds a lot of political control. Ren is the Red King. Supposedly, Martyn killed his father, the Crimson King. There are also rumors that Martyn may the Crimson King's illegitimate son.

- Fancy titles, such as Mumbo being a lord (which is why he and Martyn were betrothed).

- People are named after the location they're born and change their surname to mirror their current alliance (Or, an important past alliance if not their current one). Character doc.

- Local resources are low-quality, but some people have notable items, such as Grian who has a Sharpness II netherite sword apparently passed down from his parents (mirroring his weapon in 3rd Life) and Skizz, who has elytra wings passed through his family.

- Phantoms carry mail. Impulse raises them (a nod to his phantom sanctuary at the close of Hermitcraft Season 8).

- It's believed people's souls roam the land once they're dead. They usually stay near the Secretmounds, but may on occasion cross your path and influence your actions.

- People distrust wizards. However, they can probably boost you up a life if you sign a contract... Do you dare?

- This AU parallels the canon series. May contain small Easter eggs to my 'fic Dog's Life [Pixels Imperfect]. The two AUs exist in parallel, so that season's roleplay is technically canon in this world's lore.

📋 AU Notes & Warnings

I consider this AU dead dove. Lots of things people may not want to see, but I've covered all the topics I can think of. It may not be for you, but thanks for checking out this guide!

Individual pieces will be tagged appropriately, and my longfics will have all their warnings listed in author's notes as well.

Neighborhood Watch is canon-inspired, but it does take creative liberties.

-> Ex: Deaths are rarer in this universe since this world contains multiple series condensed into one. Instead, there are near-death experiences.

-> Martyn and Cleo put effort into their soulmate relationship as we balance their Double Life drama with the Limited Life canon of Martyn being godfather to the Clocker kids. They still fight, but events (and fights) are in a different order than canon.

Relationships - Don’t worry if you see Cleo/Bdubs in the tags of one story, but also Bdubs is their child in another story. These are separate characters in the family tree, which is indicated by their last names and hybrid traits. No incest here!

-> I’ll try to make this clear in each story, and the character doc will help you too.

-> Grian is soulmates with Oscar Goodchild and cousins with Scar Clocker. They're both based on Scar, but are separate.

Canon-typical violence treated seriously - A balance between realism and cartoony vibes. Mostly chill. This world has swords, axes, arrows, lava, burns, suffocation, and drowning. We do have respawn and I’m not planning any severe torture scenes

-> No red blood. This AU uses goopy purple soul goop. It IS used in a similar way to blood, but has unique properties (such as vaporizing when the player respawns).

-> Martyn drips soul goop in “Scary Stories For Young Fox Hybrids.”

-> Respawn-related body horror. Grian’s death and totem respawn in Chapter 1 of “For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)” is a good example.

-> Corpses + scavenger body horror. Ex: zombie-related cannabalis Some mobs and hybrids scavenge (such as foxes and phantoms). Martyn eats roadkill and Cleo has definitely eaten dead hybrids.

Attempted (possibly effective) self-harm or suicide - Things like Pearl taking damage to hurt Scott via soulmate bond, or Etho jumping from high places to “punish” Joel.

-> I don’t currently have a place for Grian’s 3rd Life perma-death (suicide), but that could potentially show up and/or be referenced

-> Characters may reference people they used to know who chose to end their lives (NPC neighbors)

Attempted murder, death, and child death - Typical 3rd Life universe; you know the drill.

-> This is a dystopian culture where trapping and killing others is widely accepted as the reality. Children are not immune from being hurt or killed.

-> Arsenic Waltz - Scar is a good example of a child death as he drops to Yellow while still an infant. This is referenced multiple times throughout the AU.

Weird gender dynamics - This world is straight-up skewed so boys are born more often than girls. Not mentioned often, but it's a big deal when baby girls are born.

-> Also, women tend to face pregnancy pressure.

References to miscarriages or abortion - No current plans, but could reasonably come up within this AU.

-> Ex: Cleo and Etho talking about whether they want to keep their second kid after pregnancy.

Ambiguous Relationships, Arranged Relationships, and/or Pressure For Relationship

Soulmate bonds don’t have to be romantic. Some people choose to go their whole lives without meeting their soulmate.

-> King Ren plucks BigB out of his small town and escorts him back to the city to live a lavish lifestyle. BigB goes along with it, but his comfort and consent are kind of dubious because… he’s not gonna fight the king.

Arsenic Waltz - The Impulse “secret girlfriend” arc… Implied threesome between Bdubs, Impulse, and Cleo, but it’s definitely ambiguous. -> Etho starts pulling away from Cleo and slips into his absent dad arc, but feels pressured to help provide for his kids. -> Martyn tries to win Cleo over, feeling like he “should” because they’re soulmates, and gets frustrated with her reluctance.

Lots of ambiguity between platonic and romantic soulmates. Some people are in soulmate relationships and don’t define them very clearly.

-> Grian and Scar are a good example of this and the lines are super blurred, so whether Grian is truly “cheating” on Scar is a little vague (as is the level of whether Scar cares, being Red at the time).

I mostly write dramedies about imperfect relationships; I delve into a lot of angst and ambiguity with fluff sprinkled in.

Please feel free to enjoy all the fluff and sex scenes, but most of the time they are there for some kind of plot and those characters may end up parting ways via divorce or Red life. Proceed at your own discretion!

Soulmate-normative society - Things like Jimmy’s comment to Martyn in DL Ep 2 (“Isn’t your soulmate doing soulmate things with another person?”), or Jimmy telling Cleo and Scott to “Stop trying to be soulmates” (Implying dumping your soulmate and/or living with someone else is not looked upon favorably).

-> Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. However, most people expect you’ll make an effort to learn who your soulmate is.

-> Cleo being upset that Martyn never showed up is an example of her playing into this normative expectation.

Open Relationships - Open relationships are common in this world. Some ways this is played include:

-> Marriages are widely accepted to break when you’re on Red. Technically most people don’t get properly divorced, but it’s generally assumed the relationship is over.

-> Tango/Skizz Heart Foundation polyamory.

-> Scott and Pearl are (were) married, but the relationship is open so they can get their sexual desires fulfilled elsewhere.

-> Grian getting frustrated with Scar’s lack of interest (i.e. due to Scar’s Red numbness while their life colors are de-synced) so he tries to seek satisfaction outside his relationship.

I haven’t gotten there yet, so I don’t know if Scar fully agrees the relationship is open or if it’s cheating. We’ll find out together.

Queer Themes / Peculiar Relationship Dynamics - By nature of these ‘fics being based on a male-dominated series, there are quite a few M/M ships here. Same-sex relationships are normalized.

-> I love writing aro and ace stuff and that’s what I’m familiar with. You’ll probably see a lot of aro and ace themes in this series, especially queerplatonic relationships.

-> Skizz is in a weird situation where his soulmate perma-died young. He tends to seek out other people who fill a variety of intimate roles from him, such as Tango whom he’s more physical with (Heart Foundation vibes) or Cleo whom he’s more emotional with (References to Last Life and LimLife where they sought each other out for hugs)

-> Scott and Pearl are married. Scott is gay and Pearl is aro. Married, divorced, and miss each other when they separate (or at least Pearl missing Scott á la Double Life drama).

-> A hybrid has either a warm, cool, hot, or chilly soul, and soulmates are always linked up as opposites (warm-cool, hot-chilly). This is called correspondent. If you pursue someone of a different temperature, that's non-normative (or queer).

-> Several characters are correspondent-normative while others are not.

Sexual Content - Sexual content may appear in stories rated M or E, but expect pretty vanilla stuff. Some stories may include innuendo.

-> Not all sex scenes are intended to be good sex. Red life sex in particular tends to be Not Great because I play the Reds as numb and craving only murder.

-> Arsenic Waltz and Cornflower House have some sex scenes.

Dubcon / Noncon / Feeling things through the soulmate bond - You start picking up what your soulmate can feel during puberty. Some sensations can be felt as early as like 14ish and the bond should be complete by age 20. I made a good faith effort to keep everyone above 18 before referencing sex, but worth a heads up.

-> If your soulmate dies young, it may un-sync what color life you’re on. Skizz is a good example in this AU: his soulmate perma-died before they sync’d, so he doesn’t have one (a nod to him not being in Double Life)

-> Feeling things can lead to dubcon or noncon situations (including sexual situations). Individual chapters will warn for that.

-> Ex: There's a scene where one character taps their body a lot in an attempt to safeword to their distant soulmate, but this goes ignored. That character is very distressed about it and it plays a big role in the story. It's based on canon, so kudos if you can guess what it is!

-> If you’re highly sensitive to dubcon or noncon, Arsenic Waltz and Cornflower House are probably not for you (And that's okay!)

Pregnancy and Breastfeeding - Namely Cleo in Arsenic Waltz because I’m aiming to do a serious look at their life, pregnancy, and child rearing experiences and they have two kids, so they’re going through this once with Scar and once with Bdubs.

-> Martyn also references secondhand pregnancy pains (i.e. complaining that he didn’t go through 18 hours of secondhand labor pains just for Scar to fall to Yellow Life young).

-> Potential references to menstrual cycles… though we do live in a universe without blood, so idk. Probably only mentioned in regards to pregnancy situations or secondhand soulmate cramps.

-> Considering hybrids have survived despite their skewed gender ratio, maybe this is a universe without cycles, but very high pregnancy odds? Hmm...

Mob Hybrids / Animal Behavior Influences - All characters are mob hybrids. Animal behavior may include:

Humanoids eating roadkill

Zombie-related cannibalism (This one’s important!)

Infighting for dominance

Mob courtship (Flicking tails, rustling wings)

Pack dynamics (Ex: “The leader of the group is perceived to be hot and gets and/or wants all the mates”)

-> Phantoms, wolves, blaze, and vex are examples of mobs that spawn together and are therefore interpreted as being pack-oriented

The sexual moments are written for humanoid characters (i.e. no notable anatomy differences). May contain minor references to sharp teeth, whimpering, a flicking tail, or claws pricking skin. Pretty vanilla humanoid stuff in this ‘verse.

-> I had an early concept where Etho is confused Cleo doesn't have two rows of teats down her belly like a fox, so take that as you will.

Mob Farms - It's common to farm mobs, but this requires breeding them. In this universe, ravagers are treated as cattle; they breed with cows. Mobs build nests or dens (as opposed to babies poofing in).

-> The Ranchers have a mob ranch.

There are some ethical dilemmas and subcultures related to mob farming that occur in the background of this universe, though I’m not sure we’ll get into that much.

I think that's everything, but if you think of anything I missed, send me an Ask and I'll add it.

Thanks for reading! If NW AU intrigues you, check it out on AO3!

- More MCYT AUs

- Want more info? Send an Ask!

You can create works based on this AU. Please cite me and/or the AU as appropriate (i.e. for things very specific to this AU). You are free to expand on ideas you've thought of thanks to my AU as a jumping off point. I'd love to reblog or link things to my AO3 works if I see them!

I write content with morally gray characters. Please don't portray my story events or worldbuilding out of context with intentional malice. As in, I request you do not post things created for the specific intention of bashing me or the AU

[lucienballard]

Bob George in the ARC NYC stacks. Photograph: unknown/ARC NYC ...

‘No one else is saving it’: the fight to protect a historic music collection ...

It all started in a loft in Tribeca, New York, long before it was a trendy neighbourhood. “I had 47,000 records and nobody wanted them,” recalls Bob George, who had just published a discography of punk and new wave music. “That led a lot of people coming to me and saying you have to save this stuff; no one else is saving it. That got the ball rolling in my loft in what is now fashionable Tribeca, which was an incredibly unfashionable war zone in 1974 when I was first there.”

George turned his record collection into the ARChive of Contemporary Music (Arc) in 1985 with co-founder David Wheeler. The non-profit music library and research centre now contains more than 3m sound recordings or over 90m songs, making it one of the biggest popular music collections in the world. Donors and board members have included David Bowie, Jonathan Demme, Lou Reed, Martin Scorsese and Paul Simon.

The Arc is not open to the public but has been a vital resource for film-makers, writers and researchers ranging from Ken Burns looking for a song for his series Baseball to the new Grammy Hall of Fame and Museum in Los Angeles needing cover art for its inducted recordings. Now, however, this unique treasure trove is under existential threat.

The Arc cannot remain at its current Hudson Valley premises indefinitely and is in need of a new and bigger home. “We have to move and we don’t know when we’ll have to move and the collection is really at risk because it’s all on pallets,” says George, who dreams of a patron like James Smithson, the British scientist who left his estate to the US to found the Smithsonian Institution. “We’re looking for someone to help us buy a very wonderful property or for us to build a new building on vacant land in upstate New York.”

After growing up in Youngstown, Ohio, George moved to New York in 1974 as a visual arts student and started collecting records as a DJ. In 1981 he released Laurie Anderson’s first single, O Superman, which sold nearly a million copies worldwide and made it to number on the UK singles chart. He was a guest on John Peel’s beloved BBC radio show, sneaking in little-known records from New York, and took music to European broadcasters too. People kept giving him records that other collections turned down.

Some of the 18,000 recordings in the Keith Richards Blues Collection. Photograph: Arc NYC

“I was doing the book and then doing Peel shows and it accidentally became this large collection that nobody wanted. They kept saying, oh, we collect classical, we collect Broadway, we collect ethnic music. I said, well, I have funk, reggae, African and hip-hop and they said, oh, no, we don’t collect any of that. Forty years later, I say, you put all those together and that’s what music has become.”

The simple goal of the archive, which has always had a peripatetic existence, is preservation. “We have no interest in quality,” George cheerfully admits. “It started that way from the very beginning because there’s no way to tell what’s valuable in the future. Everybody brings their own criteria and tastes to things in their own time. But the future is quite different, as we hope.”

The archive has never received aid from any city, state or federal organisation but its scale gives the Library of Congress a run for its money. It has absorbed major collections from musicians and fans and is home to most of Rolling Stone Keith Richards’ extensive blues inventory.

George dispatched two semi-trailers to a condemned house in Boston sinking under the weight of Jeep Holland’s set of more than 125,000 recordings and over 2,500 signed albums from the likes of the Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley and the Sex Pistols. “Going towards the bathroom, he has a gas stove, the pilot light is on, there are records in the oven. It was just a storage space ... His car had become so full of records that he abandoned it and rented a car.”

George has made repeat trips to countries such as Brazil, Cambodia, Colombia, Cuba, Japan, Jordan, Laos and Thailand. The Arc contains Demme’s personal collection of Haitian albums. More than 150,000 pieces of world music have been catalogued; there are plenty more to do. “We’ve tried to get as much of that material as possible so that collection is just fabulous.”

The Arc preserves copies of every recording in all known formats. It has electronically catalogued more than 400,000 sound recordings and digitised 200,000 with the Internet Archive – more than any other public university or private library in America. It also contains more than 3m pieces of material including photos, videos, DVDs, books, magazines, press kits, sheet music, ephemera and memorabilia.

The late Andy Rourke of the Smiths at Arc looking at Smiths records he had never seen. Photograph: Arc NYC

George says: “We catalogued 105,000 singles just recently; we have another 200,000 or 300,000 to go. This is the first way a band at one time got their feet in the water. They put out one or two or three singles. If they did hits, they got the chance to do an album and so much of this material does not exist on LP or CD. Little by little more of it might be streaming because of YouTube, as people can get away with murder on YouTube, which is great, but YouTube will disappear. Everything commercial will disappear.”

Among those who have turned to the archive is the Oscar-winning director Ang Lee, who wanted records by the singer Bert Sommer for his film Taking Woodstock. “The archive is amazing because we don’t know what we have until somebody needs it. We’ve been into the stacks and we found five LPs by Bert Sommer. For me, it’s like I have no idea who this guy is and what he did; he’s sort of a folkie. For Quincy Jones, we just sent him a list of the 8,000 things that he’s either produced or on.

“Research was how we basically stayed alive along with the largesse of the rock stars or celebrities that we had hooked up with. The idea was never to open to the public but that’s what we want to do now. I don’t think it’s untrue that we’re one of the largest in the world and that we want to make that available. We’ve tried to save two copies so there will always be a listening copy and then that would then become a listening library.”

George hopes the new archive will be open to students, educators, historians, musicians, authors, journalists and the general public. An anonymous donor has come forward with a million dollars to help realise that dream but more money is urgently needed. One possible new home is an abandoned IBM campus spanning 34 acres, although that would cost $8-10m. George is considering partnering with an upstate university and has plans to offer residencies for scholars.

“People could come in and produce a work, and that would go out into the world. It could be a blog, essay, tape, compilation, new recording, whatever. We’re really quite un-academic. I’m against it somewhat and I’d like people to have ideas and bring those ideas and put them back into the world as opposed to making it an interactive experience for everybody. I don’t want to be Disney World. It’s nice to have seminars. It’s nice to have listening parties. It’s nice to have dances.”

source

[inukag]

Speaking of filler episodes/arcs making Inuyasha (mostly him) ooc, there's one arc that makes Kagome (not only wildly OOC, but also makes her kind of dense/dumb): the kenkon halberd arc with Akitoki Hojo. - I hope you don't mind I lay off this rant (been bottling that up for MONTHS now). I just HATE the disservice to Kagome's character

(I'm not listing them in order, btw)

First sign where she's made sort of dumb (which she is in reality NOT throughout the series): Hojo shows up with that scroll to show his ancestor KAgome Hojo (🙄🙄 dude, we see what you're trying, you are DENSE), and she has that INCREDIBLY OOC moment where she wonders, and almost with certainty --after they run into A. Hojo-- that she will stay in the past and marry him... Like WTAF? That's just SO OOC because at point in the story, she admitted to naraku's evil baby that she's in love with Inuyasha; it also portrays her as stupid as if she doesn't even consider that there may be other girls/women name Kagome.

Then there's guilt tripping Inu to help akitoki, telling him "don't you feel guilty?" which he rightly replies with "why? Naraku destroyed Mount Hakurei (?)".

When Inuyasha is saying that humans shouldn't mess with yokai weapons, that is not their business, her thoughts keep going into tangents (several times during the three episodes), and reading "humans should not mess with yokai weapons" somehow equals "yokai/hanyo shouldn't get involved romantically")

When she and dense ancestors are separated from the rest of the gang, she remains quiet when Akitoki makes a veiled racist remark regarding inuyasha when she mentions she doesn't have a boyfriend (WHICH ISN'T TRUE, SHE'S WITH INU AT THAT POINT) and he goes all "I understand you travel with half demon and a monk who aren't appropriate husband material" and on top of that he goes "i'm sure under this sky is a young man destined for you" (jesus, this guy is like koga, if not worse (stealing a kiss, hello?) and she again pretty much accepts those words.

In than same scene, she quickly dismisses the thought of Inuyasha potentially becoming her hubby with a shake off her head that would have been IC for the first 5 episodes of the series, NOT this far into the story.

Then when the dude falls asleep SHE PUTS HIS HEAD ON HER LAP - that shit is ooc af and a slap to the face to the first new moon with Inu.

I'm sure I'm forgetting some more OOC Kagome moments.

And ofc, Inuyasha is bit OOC in this arc because this akitoki asshole keep acting like he's Kagome's intended husband, keeps shouting his love for her (despite knowing her for one hot minute), and Inuyasha says NOTHING (I'm sure he would have ripped his arms if he knew this fucker tried to kiss her while she slept).

Sorry that was long. ❤

(Sorry for answering this a month later than I said I would, last time I watched these episodes was YEARS ago so I wanted to rewatch them before I answered this ask!) 

First of all, I have to disagree a bit about this idea that these episodes made Kagome look completely dumb. At least in terms of action/battle, they made her use her arrows numerous times (people always complain about her not doing anything) and she was smart enough to 1- Test the sword on her friends’ lookalikes to see if they are yokai 2- Question them when they used her and Akitoki’s names 3- Rightly guessing that the girls are actually puppets and that’s why they weren’t affected by the blade

That was quick thinking of her and showed that she’s resourceful too, which is great! This is a lot like early-manga Kagome, like when she burned the toad demon or when she attached a yokai leg to her arrow. 

Now her assuming that a “Kagome Hojo” existing in the past must mean that she stayed behind and married Akitoki was pretty... weird. Unless Kagome is a rare name in Japan? I don’t know about that. 

But YES what bothered me the most in those episodes is how Kagome barely acknowledges her relationship with Inuyasha?? Like you said she completely shakes off the idea that Inuyasha is her boyfriend and that he could potentially end up with him??? 

GIRL WHAT you literally screamed that you love Inuyasha and cuddled him like 10 episodes ago??? 😭 Although this was in response to Akitoki telling her that the person who will eat her cooking everyday is very lucky, so maybe this was Kagome saying “well Inuyasha wouldn’t enjoy my cooking” because this episode has another instance of Inuyasha saying he enjoys instant ramen more than home-made cooking....

Sunrise PLEASE shut up..... Inuyasha isn’t Naruto! Loving ramen is not one of his core personality traits! There’s nothing in the manga that indicates it’s the only food he enjoys...

Anyway, Kagome not mentioning her relationship with Inuyasha is still wildly OOC when you consider how she reacted to Koga flirting with her and mocking Inuyasha... 

The whole theme of this arc was the differences between yokai and human and whether or not they are compatible... so I think what Sunrise tried to do is to set back Inuyasha and Kagome’s relationship so they can then re-confirm their chemistry at the end to prove that yokai/human relationships are indeed possible... 

It’s just very weird to do this that far in the series (this arc spans episodes 137-140). The plot with Hoshiyomi and Tsukiyomi was also just a repeat of Inuyasha and Kikyo, with the whole “they thought they betrayed each other but they actually didn’t” so it wasn’t particularly original. 

It really was such a weird tangent, Inuyasha saying “humans shouldn’t mess with yokai weapons” and Kagome ending up with “maybe my relationship with Inuyasha won’t work after all”... It would have been an interesting idea to explore if Kagome actually brought up significant differences between them that could lead to problems (like the anime-only idea that Inuyasha is 200 years old, or their children having yokai features, human villagers not accepting them, etc.) but none of that was addressed so it felt very shallow. 

I think it’s kind of funny that Akitoki declaring his feelings for Kagome was just ignored by pretty much everyone except Shippo essentially calling him cringy and Kagome questioning her future for a few minutes. I kinda hated that Kagome put his head on her lap when he was sleeping but it’s almost like she wanted to see if she would get butterflies in her stomach like the first time she did that with Inuyasha, but she clearly didn’t feel anything so she realized it wasn’t going to happen 😭

All in all I don’t think these fillers are bad. There’s some annoying set backs and OOCness but it ends with some wholesome Inukag moments too. It’s not like some of the filler episodes that makes Inukag look toxic (except maybe that line at the end of episode 140 where Inuyasha says Kagome is not kind...) or skews the love triangle. Also these episodes highlight a major problem I have with the anime, and that is the animation quality and style changing every episode. Episode 138 & 140 have amazing animation directors (Shouko Ikeda and Kumiko Takahashi) but the other 2 are mediocre imo and it’s very jarring. At least in the manga Rumiko Takahashi’s art is consistent. 

ALSO if you think Akitoki deserves to get beat up by Inuyasha for trying to kiss Kagome without her consent you should read A Rude Awakening by @born-for-eachother! Kat went HARD on Akitoki in her fanfic, Inuyasha was ready for murder LMAO. 

[alpacavampire]

Remember that time when I said "Batman Forever but instead of Dr Chase we have Dr Jack Napier so I can have Batjokes and Twiddler in the same universe?" Well finally here it is

After having the idea, I spent a long time thinking about which actor to base my joker on and when I remembered that my dad thought that Johnny Depp was in Batman Returns, I realized that he could be a great fancast and after thinking and organizing ideas I came to all this.

I present to you Dr Jack Napier who later became Joker, also known as Bruce Wayne's husband or Batman's enemy

Jack's personality is more like Chase's, only much more flirtatious and joking around Bruce (especially) but he's also really serious when needed.

Joker's personality is a combination of Sweeney Todd with Mad Hatter and a small dash of the Joker from the animated series.

Physically I think he would look like Ichabod Crane, that's why the image

Let's go now with a little back story

Jack Napier was a doctor at Arkham who had a psychiatric specialty in Dissociative Identity Disorder, which is why he was assigned to treat Harvey Dent.

Most of the doctors who treated Harvey ended up being attacked by him, however Jack was the only one who managed to earn his respect since he was the only one who treated him with equal respect.

However this did not stop his escape just like in the movie, it was then that Commissioner Gordon asked Jack to work together with Batman on Harvey's case and then Bruce was assigned to him after the riddles were sent.

His development with the relationship with Bruce/Batman is something like what you saw in the movie with Chase, only it was more intense, especially for Bruce since Jack managed to turn all his senses upside down and burn his circuits since he was the only person he didn't know how to react tob (I'll probably elaborate on this in another post.).

Jack and Bruce ended up falling deeply in love and the two began a relationship that led to Bruce proposing to Jack, who accepted and a grand wedding was held in Gotham.

Oh, I don't want to elaborate too much on Joker because it's probably a spoiler for what happened with Jack, though:

Joker appeared much later, when Jack had an acid accident caused by the gangsters of the city.

Jack disappeared for a year from Wayne Manor, with Two-Face and The Riddler being the main suspects in his kidnapping.

Bruce in the public eye was only working with the police waiting for his husband to show up while Batman searched everywhere using all his resources to find him.

When he finally found them, he demanded to know where his husband Jack was, Then he received Joker's introduction as an answer.

That's all for now my dear people, I thank you very much for having come this far and for being interested in my nonsense.

If you would like to know something, the ask is always open.

Thank you very much again 🫶🏻💓

[krakenartificer]

It is necessary that society should look at these things, because it is itself which creates them.

It's possible that people who have read all the chapters up til now are sick of him harping on this, but I absolutely love the reiteration that Hugo is not trying to pretend that all of life can be fair, or railing against acts of God, or anything. He just objects to "artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny."

It reminds me of one of my favorite Robert Frost Lines: "there was a law of God, or man." We are so bad at identifying whether an outcome is inevitable or if it's the result of our own actions. Even when it's really really obvious.

"We chose those things!" Hugo is yelling. "We could choose something else! We could just do it!"

He constituted himself the tribunal.

He began by putting himself on trial.

He recognized the fact that he was not an innocent man unjustly punished. He admitted that he had committed an extreme and blameworthy act ... Then he asked himself:—

Whether he had been the only one in fault in his fatal history. Whether it was not a serious thing, that he, a laborer, out of work, that he, an industrious man, should have lacked bread. And whether, the fault once committed and confessed, the chastisement had not been ferocious and disproportioned. ....

Whether it was not outrageous for society to treat thus precisely those of its members who were the least well endowed in the division of goods made by chance, and consequently the most deserving of consideration.

These questions put and answered, he judged society and condemned it.

He condemned it to his hatred.

This is what recovery from abuse feels like. You start off thinking that it wasn't abuse, because you really were bad. And at some point, it dawns on you that yes, you have faults.; perhaps quite grievous ones; and perhaps you have done some truly awful things, made some truly awful decisions. BUT, all the same, the penalty you were given for those deeds was ridiculously, outrageously out of proportion to the harm you did. And the moment that sinks in, the moment you truly believe it ... the natural, sensible, and incredibly uncomfortable reaction is ... outrage. Fury. That's what anger is for, after all -- anger cares a lot about things being fair. This wasn't fair; this isn't fair, and the rage you experience burns you down to your bones, until you feel like it will destroy you, and you have no outlet -- the abuse happened because you were powerless to stop it, and in most cases that's still true. So what can you do? What use to condemn it? What penalty can you apply to those who can hurt you and never hear a breath of reprimand for it?

Hatred feels like the only recourse you have available to you. (It's not, of course, but since that will be relevant in later chapters, I'll leave that discussion for later chapters)

And besides, human society had done him nothing but harm; he had never seen anything of it save that angry face which it calls Justice, and which it shows to those whom it strikes.

I have no commentary on this one; I just need to highlight it

The peculiarity of pains of this nature, in which that which is pitiless—that is to say, that which is brutalizing—predominates, is to transform a man, little by little, by a sort of stupid transfiguration, into a wild beast; sometimes into a ferocious beast.

This is actually quite literally true: under stress, the areas of the brain responsible for abstract reasoning and strategic planning lose priority, and resources are re-routed into the parts of the brain necessary for survival -- one of many reasons that high-stakes testing is a profoundly stupid idea. Under repeated and unrelenting stress -- and it should be noted that for a socially-oriented organism like humans, there is almost no stress greater than being surrounded by other members of its species who don't respond to its pain or needs -- the "rational" parts of the brain atrophy, and the likelihood of "irrational" responses increases. They use torture techniques to make us bestial, and then use our bestiality as proof that they needn't bother treating us like people.

The point of departure, like the point of arrival, for all his thoughts, was

What a fantastic description of a thought spiral!

The point of departure, like the point of arrival, for all his thoughts, was hatred of human law; that hatred which, if it be not arrested in its development by some providential incident, becomes, within a given time, the hatred of society, then the hatred of the human race, then the hatred of creation, and which manifests itself by a vague, incessant, and brutal desire to do harm to some living being, no matter whom.

Again, no commentary per se, but it does explain a great deal about certain parts of our world

My final thought from this chapter:

Victor Hugo: it had been an act of madness for him, a miserable, unfortunate wretch, to take society at large violently by the collar

Also Victor Hugo: Writes a 531K-word rant taking society violently by the collar and screaming in its face

[mariacallous]

NSELE, Democratic Republic of the Congo—Nana Ibumbu noticed that 8-year-old Daniel Mwanza was burning up. Ibumbu is the nutritionist at an orphanage on the outskirts of Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and oversees all aspects of the children’s health. Last fall, Congo faced a major mpox (previously known as monkeypox) outbreak, as well as a persistent threat from measles. She decided to give Daniel antibiotics, hoping his fever would die down. But then the vomiting started, and soon afterward blotchy rashes appeared on Daniel’s skin.

Days later, two younger children, Chris Matondo and Benicielle Tshitenge, showed the same symptoms. Ibumbu thought they all might have measles; few of the 35 kids living in the orphanage were vaccinated. She took the three to a nearby health clinic, where Dr. Tresor Gulefwa had another theory: mpox. To be sure, he had to send samples to the National Institute of Biomedical Research (INRB), located in central Kinshasa, about 18 miles away—the only lab able to test for infectious diseases in either Congo or the neighboring Republic of the Congo.

Congo struggles with a string of annual epidemics: Measles, polio, cholera, plague, malaria, Ebola, and mpox are just some of the diseases that have threatened children, many of whom are unvaccinated. In Congo, only 35 percent of children are fully vaccinated before their second birthday. This follows an unfortunate trend: Before the COVID-19 pandemic, global immunization rates were slowly increasing, but in 2021 almost 25 million children around the world missed their routine vaccinations, the largest backslide in more than three decades.

Congo has long been a ground zero for infectious diseases. Low vaccination coverage—as well as reduced trust in vaccines—and poor sanitation put the country at risk of exporting viruses across its borders. During a 2018 Ebola outbreak, which became the world’s second-largest, related cases were reported in Uganda. Although Congo’s government has taken steps to improve immunization rates, the country’s large size and limited financial resources make controlling nationwide outbreaks difficult. Without comprehensive vaccination campaigns, diseases can spread and adapt undetected and threaten the rest of the world, too.

Days after returning from the health clinic, 1-year-old Chris’s fever remained high. All the orphanage staff could do was wait. Without the test results, they wouldn’t quarantine the children, as a mpox quarantine would be much stricter than one for measles, given the 3 percent to 6 percent mortality rate for mpox. As they waited for the results, the children in the orphanage mingled and spread the disease to at least two others. Even months later, Gulefwa never received the test results from the INRB.

But whether the children at the orphanage had measles or mpox still mattered: Although a more effective mpox vaccine, Jynneos, was approved by the FDA in 2019, it is not yet publicly available in Congo. When the virus reached Europe and the United States last year, causing short-lived but sizable outbreaks, they received the available vaccines. But Congo is among the countries most affected by both viruses. Between 2020 and 2022, the World Health Organization recorded more than 10,000 cases of mpox in Congo, with more than 360 deaths. Congo also experienced its worst-ever measles epidemic between 2018 and 2020, with more than 460,000 cases. The true figures are likely much higher.

Given Congo’s history with the disease, just one case of mpox is enough to declare an epidemic, according to Gulefwa. Last year, 22 of the country’s 26 provinces experienced mpox epidemics. But the lack of capacity for rapid testing in Congo often renders test results useless, as the orphanage staff learned. “The biggest challenge is the time between when we receive the samples and when we find the results,” Placide Mbala, INRB’s lab manager, said.

Congo struggles to immunize millions of children under ordinary circumstances. A lack of infrastructure, fuel shortages, and the centralization of vaccines in the capital have contributed to the problem. Keeping the vaccines at the necessary temperature in the tropical climate is the biggest challenge, said Devos Kabemba, the head of the Nsele health zone. He added that the Nsele health zone doesn’t receive enough annual funding to develop adequate vaccination campaigns—only $3 per child, when it really needs $15. Support from international partners isn’t enough to cover it.

The government has focused on education. At the Mervedi medical center in Nsele, mothers stood in line with their newborns waiting for them to be vaccinated. Many women said they have no access to clean, running water—another factor exacerbating epidemics in the country. Outside the clinic, Ortane Manligo, a community volunteer, spoke to people about vaccines. Her work is key, as rampant disinformation following the COVID-19 pandemic has made people wary of vaccination.

Community volunteers “were doing well with convincing parents to vaccinate children against polio and other diseases,” Manligo said. “But when COVID came, disinformation spread on WhatsApp.” A study by the government and international partners showed that 45 percent of disinformation about COVID-19 is transmitted by word of mouth and 20 percent through social media; while the government has involved community leaders in its fight against disinformation, rumors remain hard to control. COVID-19 made it harder to convince citizens to get vaccinated, undermining preparedness for future pandemics.

Another major barrier to immunization efforts is low-level corruption. Many health workers responsible for vaccinating children around the country say they have not been paid for years. Jacques Belly, a health worker in Kinshasa who administers vaccines, said he has not been paid beyond his $75 monthly risk bonus since 2008, adding that the situation in the Nsele health zone resembles that of most of his colleagues. “We are Congolese, and we care about our children. We continue to work, and we continue to ask the government to pay us through strikes and protests,” Belly said.

Most funding for vaccines and medical utilities comes from partners like UNICEF, the World Health Organization, and the Gates Foundation, but health workers’ salaries are the responsibility of the state. Veronique Kilumba Nkulu, Congo’s deputy health minister, said the issue stems from a lack of digital payment infrastructure that could allow the money to reach health workers in remote areas. She said in an interview with Foreign Policy that they are trying to introduce more mobile payments, but the situation on the ground shows that even in Kinshasa, health workers aren’t receiving their salaries.

This precarity has led some local health workers to extort the population by asking parents for money in exchange for vaccines. Kamy Musene, a former program field manager for the University of California, Los Angeles, infectious disease program in Congo, monitored the government’s efforts between 2018 and 2022. He found that some mothers were collecting sugar cane to pay for vaccination cards for their children. “We heard in some villages that mothers had to buy vaccination cards for their babies, which can cost almost $1,” he said. Some mothers said their children still did not receive vaccines, and in some cases not even their cards.

“The problem is they know what is happening, but they are not reacting to what we are telling them. Nothing is changing,” Musene said.

The children at the orphanage in Nsele eventually recovered, according to Ibumbu, but the test results never came back. While the outbreak—which she still suspects to be measles—would have been a good opportunity to immunize all children at the orphanage, Gulefwa never received the supplies to do so, leaving the orphanage vulnerable to outbreaks. For Ibumbu and the children at the orphanage, the lack of food and beds is a much more immediate threat. “We don’t have enough means to protect and support these children,” she said. “But we’re trying to do it; it’s our duty.”

Although the COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the importance of global health security, the inequity and disinformation that followed have affected the ability of some governments in the global south to immunize children against other threats. As new diseases emerge, countries like Congo remain on the front line of eradication—and without the appropriate resources, they risk fueling other outbreaks and other pandemics.

[usagirln12003]

Eren Kruger: Hogwarts AU

Eren Kruger was a Half-Blood wizard that was born on the 5th of April 1926 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1937, being sorted into Ravenclaw House.

He had a Beech wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus was a Snowy Owl.

His favorite subject was Transfiguration and his least favorite subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He was one of the Ravenclaw Prefects of his year and later Head-Boy.

Kruger appeared to be a largely stoic individual who never displayed any emotions, most likely as a consequence of enduring years of suffering and misery as a mole and being forced to commit brutal and atrocious acts against fellow witches and wizards. After finding Grisha and Faye Yeager in the Department of Ministry, he felt no qualms in punishing Grisha physically. He again continued to show a lack of empathy when the Yeagers learned of Faye's death, remaining stone-faced at the sight of their sorrow.

However, in truth, he felt remorse for all of his immoral acts that he did to his brethren, but saw it necessary if the ultimate result would have resulted in the ministry being reborn as a proud nation. Another notable aspect of his worldview was his relativistic belief; he denied the concept of an objective truth, claiming that everything was a matter of personal opinion.

Kruger was anti-establishment, a rebel, and against the Pureblood status-quo. His loyalty and attachment for his allies was immense to the point. As the Owl was a brave and very resourceful man, having taken the initiative or the courage to live most of his remaining life amongst the enemy. Throughout his life posing as a Pureblood supremecy, Kruger managed to build a long list of contacts, comrades, relationships, while never being caught.

Kruger's drive with giving Half-Bloods and Muggleborns their equal rights went so deep that he was able having to deal with working daily alongside some of the most extreme portion of anti-Muggle people, such as a few of his fellow colleagues at the ministry. The two formed a bond where both could be seen slacking off together instead of working. Kruger was able to sit through hearing Gross' fanatically hateful tirade against muggles to Grisha without becoming angry, and even when he pushed Gross over the walls of Azkaban in order for him to get his soul sucked out by a dementor, he did not express any emotion.

Another notable aspect of his worldview was his relativistic belief; he denied the concept of an objective truth, claiming that everything was a matter of personal opinion, citing the perception around their the legendary witch Ymir changed according to the state in power as an Example. While speaking of Ymir, Krueger detailed how during the middle ages, she was seen and worshipped as a Goddess, while afterwards she became the personification of all the hateful narratives associated with muggles as a whole explaining his worldview. Compared to the other members of the Revolution, who believed that muggles never had a brutal culture and that every atrocity mentioned by the Wizarding government had to be lies made to justify the oppression endured by Half-Bloods and Muggleborns, Kruger refuted this view, openly doubting most of the extreme claims thought up by higher-ups in the ministry, though recognized the historic truth that muggles used to hunt witches and wizards to burn at the stake.

He believed that many errors had been committed throughout history, and that the only way for Half-Bloods and Muggleborns to gain back their freedom was for them to stop repeating the mistakes of the past.

[leam1983]

So, Walt wants a Framework...

I may have created a monster.

See, Mondays are slow in the morning for us, and the weekend vibes don't really end until noon sharp. So, Sarah and I are discussing potential work-related upgrades, when Walt mentions that his trusty ASUS laptop is starting to feel sluggish.

I mean - you know me. You know Sarah, too. We immediately had Linux Distro boners, and considering how Walt isn't tech-focused and really needs a turn-key solution, Linux Mint was our best choice. Still, the hardware proper was aging, so Walt did as Walt does and took to Best Buy's website to show me the first page that crops up when you type "laptop" in their Search bar.

He wasn't wrong in the sense that swapping one entry-level device for another one would've done the trick; even a basic and bare-bones platform designed to run MS Office as its most resource-intensive task could've done the job. The problem is, I'm getting sick of dealing with bi-yearly comments related to how he's "unsure" of his laptop's performance. I want something I could overspend on intentionally in order to give him a nice, sizable buffer of performance that could last at least five years.

Considering, the best option really is a Framework laptop. I showed him the company's website, explained the business model to him, and now he's hooked, envisioning a future where all he needs to run presentations for the extremely rare event of his needing to beat pavement to find us clients is a snazzy lil' pouch crammed with a few Expansion Bay modules, including USB-C. It immediately turned his Pitch Brain on, and he started selling me on the worth of using sustainable tech in our day-to-day operations, to predictably and playfully poke fun at me for daring to use a boutique laptop (from Razer) in what is likely the least-sustainable choice imaginable...

I rolled my eyes. "It's a Blade 14 from two years ago; I can't just toss that out the window! Morally, I have to take that hardware to its limits first, and then worry about revisions!"

Walt scoffed back. "Aw, come on; it'd be a business expense! We should all get a Framework!"

Followed twenty minutes of Sarah and I trying to talk our now laptop-obsessed boyfriend into letting us keep using the same portables we already have, and doing our best to convince him that he's the one who needs an upgrade.

"But you don't even game on your laptop!" notes Walt. "Don't you wish you could do that on your off-time?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, hon - I'll just use the company Visa at 41 years old and just buy myself a new toy like I'm an idiotic Sales Rep who's just been slated for a fat commission! No! I cannot do that, Walt! Besides, my laptop is for work! What does it say about me if I use company hardware to frag noobs after hours?!"

Walt drew himself up, smirking. "I don't care what it says, because I'm the boss of this company - and the boss wants us to have sustainable tech, now. It's good for the planet, good for our image, and I'll have a reliable one-stop shop for any future upgrades."

I threw my hands up. "Fine, whatever! Let's just burn twenty thou plus taxes off of our operational budget! I love you, hon, but this is the shittiest idea ever, Walt."

Walt placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'll call Scrooge, get him to draw us up a budget with a few mockup bills. If it makes sense, we'll pull the plug. If he tells me I'm being delusional, then we'll just buy one for me."

Sarah gave Walt a circumspect look. "Fine. But if it turns out you just buy one for yourself, I forbid you from loading up our own Visa for Christmas gifts shaped like laptops, later on."

That knocked a few Machiavellian twinkles out of Walt's eyes - but not by much. I know the big guy; if he's convinced himself we deserve something, we'll get it, even if we issue moral objections. It might take years and he might use different excuses, but it'll happen.

Note to self: try and convert the BF to Ascetism, or at least Minimalism...

[hollowwhisperings]

The difference is much more one of martial status than birth or social station: there is also that Awkward Reality that, while Wei Wuxian behaved & was generally treated as a "Young Master" (due to his fostering & lack of true peers, strength-wise)... there was no sect to stand behind him.

The burning of Lotus Pier left the membership of Yunmeng Jiang to be as follows:

Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin (16/17 years old). Wielder of Sandu & Zidian.

Jiang Yanli (19 y/o ~ early 20's). Non-combatant.

Wei Wuxian (17 y/o). No longer wielding Suiban.

That's it. Everyone else was dead.

There was no Sect, no homebase nor material assets, no elders nor fellow cultivators... nothing & no one to support any of the Jiang siblings, Wei Wuxian included. The only things standing between WWX and a powerhungry mob were WWX himself, "Sandu Shengshou", and Courtesy.

"Courtesy" is what enabled the Jiang to sit in War Councils, the "time" to search for their MIA brother, troops to help them reclaim Lotus Pier, food to eat, allies to guard their backs when they slept. After the War, "Courtesy" kept debtors at bay: all those "loans" (of troops, resources and "good will") accrued during the War to be Repaid (with interest). "Courtesy" kept Yumeng Jiang from being completely overrun by anyone & everyone so they could "have" their Formal Mourning periods. "Courtesy" was what kept Debtors from showing up at the Jiang's doorstep, demanding repayment in the form of Wei Wuxian. The Jin wanted him as a Pet Researcher. Gusu Lan wanted him as an emergency patient. Various minor sect leaders wanted him as a rentable army-of-one, an instructor, a head on a spike (etc). Sandu Shengshou had the "Right" of Outraged Refusal because Courtesy gave him that right, as Wei Wuxian's Sect Leader.

It is this "Courtesy" that Wei Wuxian was not reciprocating.

While we, the readers, Know WWX literally Couldn't (he was a freshly malnourished mortal drinking himself into forgetting the past 2-ish years entirely)... his Sudden Inability to Be Courteous was Dangerous.

(for himself & Yunmeng Jiang, politically; for everyone, as veterans of a very recently ended war)

Yunmeng Jiang didn't really become an Actual Sect again until Jiang Yanli's marriage to Jin Zixuan: her hueband was a powerful ally, being a peer to her brothers in sword cultivation, and a Useful Blockade between the powerhungry (his father, most obviously) and the still-fragile Yunmeng Jiang (without WWX, its martial strength was Jiang Wanyin + his new reputation as "Sandu Shengshou").

That Jin Rulan survived his father's death spoke of Powerful Protectors, Jiang Yanli's death told us who was "Protecting" him: people seeking a "justification" to play Regent to her son-as-figurehead. Without Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli & Jin Rulan were effectively hostages of the Jin: Jin Rulan remained a hostage, even despite Jiang Wanyin's best efforts, all the way to the events at the Guanyin Temple.

Yunmeng Jiang was never in a position to protect itself, not after the Burning of Lotus Pier, let alone support its most valuable & dangerous asset (WWX): similarly, the Jiang siblings could not support their brother because, 1) he would not let them & 2) the only one "qualified" to help WWX in the way he needed... was Wen Qing, considered by WWX as being the foremost doctor in the Cultivation World.

The Jiang siblings did not have the skillset of An Actual Medical Doctor nor any "sufficiently" similar traumatic experiences that would allow them to Recognise or Relate to the [horrific ball of poor coping mechanisms & self-destruction] that had so changed their brother: what little WWX recalls from this time is his being Drunk or Trying To Get Drunk (a cheaper effort, with him so "freshly" malnourished & sans a golden liver but still costlier than his family could really afford at that time).

The only people WWX "believed" he could confide in were the Dead, as evidenced by those ghost girls LWJ was so jealous of &, later, Wen Qionglin.

Wen Qing was probably singlehandedly responsible in "postponing" WWX's self-destruction until after [politics] "Shot First": she Knew His Biggest Secret & had a somewhat "comparable" experience to his Surviving the Burial Mounds (via being a POW &, previoisly, Wen Ruohan's personal physician).

Yunmeng Jiang was never famous for its healing arts but, again, the Sect only had three known survivors. The Jiang siblings, meanwhile, could not recognise that WWX's needs were Medical and that "have you tried meditating" was no longer a viable option.

WWX refused any & all help right until Wen Qing, most Esteemed Doctor in the setting (by WWX's reckoning), showed up. That she Knew of his "pre-existing condition" made her uniquely qualified, from WWX's perspective, and her Past as Wen Ruohan's personal physician made her "safe" to confide in (if Wen Qing had not personally witnessed "worse things" than what WWX might confide, she at least had "experience" in concealing any Judgement or Pity).

The circumstances were universally terrible: even if Wei Wuxian had been officially adopted into the Jiang family, made into his younger brother's "heir" in their family register, his lack of a Golden Core & his "refusing" to follow protocol by openly carrying his weapons would still be a Problem.

Nie Huaisang could "get away with" what he did becauae he spent his entire life making him the subject of piteous vitriol, of "humiliating" himself & his Sect. Nie Huaisang was considered a walking joke, publically scorned for his entire life, ridiculed and the only "expectation" that cultivators not of his Sect had for him was "cowardice". He cultivated this image, on purpose, his entire life: if he was seen with a weapon, someone would joke it was more dangerous to NHS than anyone else.

Wei Wuxian had never truly concerned himself with his public image: this is a Plot Point. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli were little better, when it came to politics: they were their parents' children (but withhout the decades of experience to compensate for it). The only thing that could have made Wei Wuxian's breaking protocol non-problematic, short of having Bao San-Ren fly by to give his dizi her "Seal of Approval" (& threatening imminent mortality on anyone saying otherwise), would be stripping WWX of any power by outing himself as being without a Golden Core. He would additionally need to Destroy the Stygian Tiger Seal with every Sect standing witness, erase his own memories of [developing necromancy], and Lie that the Seal could have only been created in the extreme circumstances of [blatant lies], ideally with Bao San-Ren nodding along to said Lies.

In short: Wei Wuxian was screwed. The extent to which he and his "foil", Jin Guangyao, were "screwed over" by Circumstances Beyond Their Control is matched only, perhaps, by the times everyone was screwed over by Flagrant Miscommunication.

It's why the Juniors are always the "Hope Spot": they talk to each other, witnessing firsthand the Consequences of not doing so.

I like how Nie Huaisang straight up refuses to cultivate and carry a sword and no one has anything to say about that because he’s a sect heir but when Wei Wuxian, son of a servant, does it suddenly it’s a problem.

[tainted-wine]

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.

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.

[fresh-cup-of-antimatter]

Text transcribed below:

Fyerfolk — Foxes from Root: AGOMAR the board game as a fantasy culture Traits: Achievement oriented. Cultural bond with forges. Devoted to the craft, use, and generational maintenance of the art of forging tools, armours, and (due to market demand) weapons. Like utilitarian-tuned-cosmetic face-coverings.

Flametouched

Every Fyerefolk town has an altar that serves as a makeshift bonfire spot and smelter (ceremonial). Once every year, the members of the Community with the most potential (from prodigies, to new apprentices, to those starting a new forge*) carry torches in a march to light small fires around the width of the altar (designed as a storrey-tall furnace) to gain their god's favour in their endevours. *The sign to be installed at the new forge can be made by a depressed test mould where molten iron from the altar-forge can be filled in for a unique clean text.

The Path of Light

In good times, a rider bearing the best armour would set out from the most prestigious (or most wealthy town) to other Fyerefolk towns. They would wield a spear/lance/pike with a burning flag attached to it. The aim is for the rider to throw the burning pole into the heart of the next town's altar which is prepared with enough fuel and waste metal for a forge-like bonfire. The town would then provide the rider with a new burning flag-and-pole to deliver to the next town. This act is said to bring blessings and connect the Fyerefolk communities. It is believed the rider would gain one blessing or afterlife reward from the Forge-God for each burning flag delivered. Failure leads to the rider being replaced. It is custom for the humbled rider to contribute to the community to replace the lost blessing, usually via a day's to a week's community service at the local forge or elsewhere in need. There was an aspiring king who aimed to unite the Fyerefolk into a proper kingdom or empire. To show his legitimacy, he took up the role of rider. After successfully lighting the altar-forges of all the great Fyerefolk settlements, he collapsed, revealing that he was shot and attacked multiple times along the way. His final words in his final days inspired his attendants to later make him a saint. Nowadays, the rider's armour is enchanted or blessed before the ride courtesy of a ritual inspired by the king-in-spirit.

Religion

In their myths, the Fyerefolk were descendants of a tribe hunted by the elements and creatures until the Forge-God / God of the Forge bestowed the knowledge of ironmaking to improve their tools and develop their civilization (mostly community expansion protected by well-armoured militia).

Potential RPG Quests

Hard times have restrained resources and production capacity. The altar-forges light campfires in size, and flame-carrying riders are now rare, only traveling to settlements politically aligned, splitting the communities' trust. A successful 'Path of Light' hasn't been done in years.

A culture based off the foxes from Root (the board game).