#not only is it a deviation from what he usually is—calm and collected when it comes to the face of such manners of flustering !!
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thinking about flustered venti again.
#BECAUSEES#not only is it a deviation from what he usually is—calm and collected when it comes to the face of such manners of flustering !!#(he is the same guy who literally laughs at the traveler when they tried and went that one won’t work) (<- i think of these lines every day)#btw.#and besides the point of it being cute#just the idea of being able to break down those walls enough for a few seconds#that he is rendered Spechless.#that the bard who is sooo good with his words. whose tongue is silver sharp. who cannot come#up with a good enough comeback and flounders ….#anyways i WILL be making this about bard of ven. as usual#i fear#idk i feel like bard is more easier to get to out of the two#so ven can just come up and wrap his arms around bards waist and softly go good afternoon#and bard is like. swats at his hat. Hi.#(<- not pictured ven giggling)#anyways#ven covering his face and desperately trying to cover his glowing and bard is just sitting there with the biggest >:3#gently holds ventis cheek. doing okay little song?#ven vc (glowing more now) can you Please give me A Minute#lantern says stuff#the important part of that phrasing is “out of the two of them”—good luck if you ARENT ven LMAO
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guidance
pairing: connor rk800 x gn!reader
summary: fresh out of the revolution, connor is still adjusting to his deviancy. his very existence has given the word "life" an entirely new meaning, and he is experiencing some inner turmoil surrounding his true purpose now that he has free will. will you help him navigate these complex feelings?
tags: comfort, fluff, upset connor
warnings: none!
word count: 1,483
a/n: HUGE THANK YOU to @thiriumstains for submitting this request!! for the purposes of this fic, deviated androids can cry when their systems are overloaded with information, and mimic human-like sleep behaviors when going into sleep mode! i hope you enjoy :]
☆ as your keys jingled in the door handle, you could hear the vigilant barks of your golden retriever and hear the sound of his paws trotting up to the doorway. connor, with similar dog-like reflexes, started getting up from his place on the couch as soon as he heard the clamor from the entrance to your shared apartment. opening the door you excitedly greeted your furry friend as he jumped on you, licking your face in appreciative excitement.
☆ "y/n, welcome home!" connor said. eager to assist, he takes some of the bags out of your arms and sets them on the table. like the gentleman he is, he helps you out of your jacket and hangs it on the hook next to the doorframe. you turn around to look at him, feeling refreshed just by the sight of him after a long day away. and, just by looking into connor's eyes, you can tell he feels similarly. with this shared glance of cherishment, your bodies are like magnets with the way they move toward each other for an embrace.
☆ "i've missed you so much." connor sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. his grip on you was strong, as if he was finally finding solace after running from something stronger than him. your bodies lingered in their positions for a moment before you both pulled away, connor's hands squeezing your arms before dropping to his sides. you studied his face unconsciously and realized that something looked amiss about the way he looked. his cheeks were glistening and his eyes looked glossier than normal. "connor," you started cautiously, afraid of upsetting him. "are you feeling alright?"
☆ connor's eyes widened slightly, a micro-expression that most wouldn't notice, and he straightened his posture. he felt as though he had been caught doing what he wasn't supposed to. the truth is, he didn't know what was happening to him. he has only been deviated for a few weeks, and this was the first time since then that he's felt so... overwhelmed. but he couldn't tell you, the thought of doing so only amplified the sensation. trying his best to maintain his usual calm and collected appearance, connor unknowingly gave you a sad smile. "all of my systems are perfectly functional," he lied. "what makes you say that?"
☆ looking into connor's eyes as he tilted his head to the side, you saw more than he was letting on. his gaze looked pained, specifically the kind of pain that you feel you must hide for the sake of others. neither of you knew what deviance would hold for connor, but you were determined to help him through everything. "i don't mean to pry, but you look upset. don't feel obligated to tell me anything you don't want to, but i want you to know that i'm here for you." you smiled gently at him to punctuate your message.
☆ shame continued to bubble within connor, steadfast and and committed. he didn't want you to see him like this, but, deep down, he knew he couldn't keep this at bay any longer. all it took was one blink for tears to drip down his cheeks once more, and your heart clenched at the sight. connor's hand flew up to wipe his face, embarrassed that he couldn't control what was happening to him. actually, it was quite frightening for him.
☆ "i'm sorry, i-" he whispered, eyes cast downward. the tone of voice in which he spoke revealed just how out of control he felt. "i don't know what's happening. my optical units- my eyes- they don't need additional lubricant." it was concerning, to say the least, watching the usually composed android unravel like this. you reached out and pulled him close to you, making a silent promise to yourself that you were going to take care of him. "what's wrong, connor?" you knew that you were gonna have to coax him through this, that he needed guidance through this uncharted territory.
☆ "i don't have a mission," he spoke, just above a whisper. taking his frame in your hands you turned him to face you, his face was perturbed and his eyes still lowered. "what?" you softly urged. his teary eyes met yours with a look of disbelief. "...i don't have a mission. what am i supposed to do without a purpose to fulfill? without a goal to meet?" connor's voice shakes. "my entire existence has been ruled by objectives. i was activated to serve as a tool for humans to use, and i was okay with that. but now... now-" he covered his face with his hands, leaning forward as a heavy sob shook his body.
☆ your hand instinctively reached to rub his back as he wept, your touch letting him know that he didn't have to go through this alone. he wasn't used to this: to not having feelings, to people wanting to know how he's feeling in the first place, it was all too much. he's never experienced this kind of input running through his circuitry before. "do you want to talk about this?" you said, continuing to rub his back. he lifted his head back up to eye level, looking so, so broken.
☆ he didn't want to, he couldn't admit that he needed help. all he'd known was how to be the help others needed. how was he supposed to accept it for himself? connor stayed silent, staring at the ground as more tears rolled down his cheeks. in an act of immense courage, connor nodded, and that was all of the confirmation you needed to try and lead him into the right direction. "the truth is, us humans, we don't know what we're doing either. we may seem like we already know what our futures have in store for us, but some of us, not all of us, know deep down that tomorrow is never promised."
☆ connor sat and listened. he didn't interject, become distracted, or avert his gaze as you spoke. "it's more than okay to not know what your destination is yet, what's most important is that the journey is savored. part of having human-like qualities is to doubt, to question, and to be unsure." you paused, getting up from the couch to move toward your shared bedroom. you reached out your hand to him, knowing how much he's valued physical touch since he deviated.
☆ "and don't forget, you still have duties you can fulfill at the precinct. no one's gonna take that away from you." you said, walking the two of you through the doorframe. "but you also don't have to be tied to that place anymore if you don't want to. its your decision, in the end." you moved to your dresser and rifled through the drawers for pajamas to wear. connor did the same, itching to get into more comfortable clothes. you both faced away from each other as you changed, but the conversation did not cease.
☆ "it will take a lot of getting used to, this freedom. i'm not doubting that. but i want you to know that i'm gonna be here for you the whole time." you finished changing and moved towards the bed. "even if you think you have no one, you'll have me. got it?" you affirmed, peeling the blankets back. nestling inside, you patted the spot next to you on the bed. "come," you beckoned. "i'm sure you're exhausted." connor walked over, still silent, and slid underneath the covers.
☆ you smoothed a hand over his hair as you two laid side by side, facing each other. "the beautiful thing about this is," a yawn overtakes your sentence. "you are now the director of your own destiny. no one gets to tell you what to do anymore. its up to you to decide what you want your mission to be." your eyelids grew heavy as your hand slid down to rest on his side protectively. "this is your life, connor. you have the power to choose how it unfolds for yourself."
☆ your eyes fluttered, fighting the creeping, persistent grasp of slumber. connor noted this, and, with the same small voice he spoke in before, he whispered: "thank you. i... need time to process... and reflect... but..." he paused again. "thank you." connor shifted his eyes from looking down at the mattress to meeting yours, but yours were already closed. aching to join you and to finally release this burden for the time being, he began the process of entering sleep mode.
☆ taking in his last moments of wakefulness, he couldn't help but wonder: did you hear him? his eyes were closed, but he felt the mattress shift as your dog jumped on the bed to snuggle between you two. as he laid there, counting down the seconds to sleep, he swore he could have heard the ghost of a voice float through his auditory processor. "always." it said.
#dbh x reader#connor rk800 x reader#detroit become human x reader#dbh oneshots#connor rk800 oneshots#detroit become human oneshots#dbh fanfic#connor rk800 fanfic#detroit become human fanfic
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System SQQ thoughts (as in plural system, not SYSTEM, that comes in later)
- SJ is a trauma holder and host for most of their childhood, discipleship and then during their peak lord years. To him this is his life, their system is covert, and he's not aware of it.
- SY is a normal part, fronted sometimes during their childhood and life, in the calm moments. Especially during their disciple years when they were studying flora and fauna (SJ just thinks he zoned out.)
- The SYSTEM is the overseer and persecutor. It doesn't front, doing its job in the headspace and keeping the two from realizing they exist.
- But then The qi deviation happens, and SYSTEM decides that SJ is just not handling it properly anymore, putting their existence at risk. It pulls SJ into the headspace and shoves SY to the front.
- SY creates the "this world is a book i read" as an explanation as to why he doesn't have memories but knows how this world works (especially flora and fauna, must've been the only interesting part of the book!)
- The SYSTEM cofronts with SY a lot of the time, especially at the beginning, doing its job as a persecutor to keep SY in line. (None of the possession detection tests work, because it is the same soul. Just not the same person)
- SJ sometimes gets to see what's happening at front, especially when the SYSTEM is there and can't entirely block him out. SJ passively influences SY sometimes, especially when his Qi-ge is present.
- SJ hates SY at the beginning. SY stole his life, and is ruining it, and just doesn't understand what he's doing!
- Eventually SJ gets to cofront while they're teaching or doing paperwork, reluctantly helping SY. SY explains this to himself as just a kind of grumpy inner monolog. ("That form needs to go to An Ding right away, put it on the right pile idiot." "Right, right of course, right away me.")
- SY manages to save LQG in the Linxi Caves bc he has less of an emotional attachment to him then SJ, and it doesn't get in the way of stopping his qi deviation. Also he still views everyone as characters, which is an additional distance that helps him that calm enough in the moment.
- It's SJ fighting during the demon invasion. SY just doesn't have that much control, he has just enough to get by + muscle memory, but not enough to fight Like That.
- And of course, it's SY that gets them poisoned with Without A Cure. Of course. Life gets back to "normal", just with additional visits from LQG.
- Then the Immortal Conference happens. While standing at the edge of The Endless Abyss, SY heavily disassociates, only going through motions automatically, and only because the SYSTEM is there.
- Only when LBH is gone, he comes back to himself and breaks down. Collects the sword shards and disassociates some more, only getting back thanks to his martial siblings.
- SY is rarely not disassociated for a long time after LBH is gone. He stays at the sword mound most days, far away from the body.
- SJ hates this new development. He might even.. care.. for SY, though he'd never admit it. Eventually SJ starts fronting at night. Just to get them to eat something, to do their work, to help them live.
- When they get sent on missions outside of the sect, its usually SJ fronting. This becomes very confusing to LQG, who often comes with. SJ does try to act like SY, but it is a little off-putting.
- SY fronts during the missions when there's interesting beasts, or when it's something he needs to know to not get fully lost on what's happening.
- During succubus mission SJ comes to front, pushes LQG into the pond and runs away as fast as possible.
- When they're about to go to Jinlan city, they've got a pretty good system (hehe) down. SY is still mostly unaware, just knows that... something... is going on. Suspects its the "previous soul of this body" leaking through. He let's everything happen because he just doesn't care much anymore.
- Jinlan city is awful for both SY and SJ. Neither of them can handle seeing LBH, both of them are in a panic, blurring together. It's hell and terrifying and then they're in the Water Prison and it's so much worse.
- Those moments when SQQ doesn't say anything in the Water Prison? Noones fronting. It's all a mess. The SYSTEM tries to help, but it really doesn't work.
--------------------------------------------------
that's as far as my daydreaming got me! since idk what SQH deal would be here (is he an actual transmigrator? is he the original SQH? is it smth else?), idk if the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom bodies would even be here?
so they probably wouldn't try to escape without a backup plan, SY's pseudo-suicidal tendencies would be kept in check by the other system members.
i dont know how the plot would continue.
additional thought: Luo Bingge splits after they push LBH into the abyss. He was a fragment before, psrt of a little nightmare here and there, but after the abyss he fully forms. He's a persecutor, doesn't front (SYSTEM won't let him), but he does uh, torture SY in headspace. maybe SJ doesn't realize for a while? maybe he sees it happen and that's why he's also terrified of LBH in Jinlan ? idk. what do they do with Bingge afterwards? also no clue. He's a fun thought but too much of a complication i think.
if anyone else has thoughts please please please please share them <3
#svsss au#svsss#shen jiu#shen yuan#svsss system#shen qingqiu system au#<- my tag for it ig?#araksi posts#long post#like holy shit how did i write so much on this
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New Love, New Skin (Chapter 3)
Vox and Kora's established routine has a deviation, and we learn a little more about both of them.
HURRAY FOR BACKSTORY
Tags: nightmares, grocery stores in Hell, dancing, loss of virginity
Chapter 1 📺 Chapter 2 💛 Chapter 3 📺 Chapter 4 💛 Chapter 5 📺 Chapter 6 💛Chapter 7
February 1959
In the months following that first night together, a lot of things changed for Vincent. Slowly, but adapting nonetheless.
They abandoned their plans of moving to a nicer apartment in favor of Vincent simply moving into Kora’s bedroom- the mattress slid to the center of the room and the dresser split down the middle to make room for Vincent’s growing collection of clothing. There’s a small table on either side of the room, one for Kora’s miscellaneous craft items and one for his paperwork and notes, music and books from above that he was asked to review for the station, scripts he was told to look over for non-breaking news.
Once he had started sleeping in her bedroom, his mornings were better even though their routine didn’t change. Kora was an early bird, awake and out the door for a walk after starting the coffee brewing on her way- but some days he could convince her to stay in bed with him for an orgasm or two (or three, on one memorable morning with his face shoved beneath the covers to lick and suck at her slick cunt before she had forcibly pulled on his antennae to get him to stop so she could return the favor). She rarely forgot to start the coffee but when she did Vincent would wake up in a foul mood, only sated when Kora returned home and crawled back into bed with him for a few minutes, caffeine fiend in him satisfied when he could taste the brew on her lips as she gave her apology with kisses.
After the Extermination that year, Kora had started having nightmares. He could understand to an extent when he would wake in the night to her mumbling and tossing about in her sleep, brow creased and unshed tears lining her eyes- she had filled him in on the annual event, the Exorcist Angels from Heaven coming down and slaughtering countless demons as a means of ‘population control,’ which was just fucked up in his opinion. They had spent the day holed up in the apartment, lights out, screams of terror filtering in from the crack in the living room window and causing Kora to flinch every time. He had eventually repositioned them, leaned her back against his chest with his hands over her soft ears to muffle the noise as best he could.
Usually when he noticed her having a bad dream he would leave the room for a while- sit in the darkness of the living area for an hour or so until he returned and saw that she had calmed, slipping back under the sheets with her.
This particular night though, when he awoke to the motions of her wrestling with the covers, the tears were flowing freely, mumbling softly under her breath- “didn’t mean it- please don’t go… no no no no-”
Vincent shoves the covers aside to get out of the bed when her hands wrap around his forearm, grip punishing and firm, sobbing in earnest even as she remains in the throes of sleep. “Gideon- ‘m sorry, no…” She mumbles, claws sinking into the sensitive flesh of his arm. “Sorry, sorry, please-”
His heart sinks. Who the fuck was Gideon? What could she have to apologize for? His eyes dart over to the picture on Kora’s nightstand, the bat-like demon with a wing tossed carelessly over her shoulder. He didn’t think that he was another lover- Kora wasn’t the sort to fuck around on a guy, even if they hadn’t officially labeled themselves since they had started sleeping together. But obviously whatever had happened with him was making her feel guilty- perhaps he would ask her about it, someday.
For now, though, Vincent can’t stand to see her so distressed in her dreams. He pries her claws from his skin and moves, pulls her into his arms with her head tucked up under his screen and soothes his hand over her mussed hair. “Shh,” he murmurs, and she whimpers in his embrace. “It’s okay, Kora. I got you.”
She cries softly into his chest, her whispered words dragging her lips against his skin, and he gets a sudden, crystal clear memory of his life on Earth- a child, dark hair falling over his eyes when he sits up in bed and his ma comes into the room, all sugary sweet smiles and soft words that she spoke into his hair as he fell back to sleep, her presence keeping the worst of his nightmares at bay. His mother had always been the one to soothe him, his hardass father telling him to be a man and get over it regardless of the situation; his grandfather dying, having to leave his friends behind every time they moved, when he tumbled into the river as a teenager and bashed his face off a boulder. He had told him the scar across his left eye made him look tough, less like a sissy.
That wasn’t what Kora needed, he realized- to be left alone with her fears and deal with them without any support. It hadn’t worked for him as a child; how could it work for her? What kind of man lets a woman- or a child, for that matter- cry from their nightmares when consolation can be as simple as a gentle embrace and a few soft words?
She eventually calmed in his hold, breath evening out, lips ceasing their silent prayer and apologies to this mysterious Gideon- even though Vincent still glared at what was possibly his image on Kora’s side of the bed.
He eventually fell back to slumber as well, his arms still around her when he opened his eyes to the golden halo of her hair in the morning. She’s sniffling against his chest, hands rubbing at her eyes to displace the dried tears she had cried in the night, and when she looks up at him she offers a soft smile. “You must think I’m some kinda baby, huh?”
“Never, doll,” he says, ruffling her hair a bit and laughing when she pushes against him to escape his embrace. “I might think you’re some kind of snore demon, but never a baby.” She didn’t snore, but he poked at her constantly with the implication that she did because the way that she bristled at it was so funny.
“I do not snore,” she insisted, her brow creased as she glared at him, shoving at his chest to land him flat on his back in the bed instead of curled protectively around her. She sat low on his abdomen to reach his wrists, holding them to the bed like she had any chance of keeping him in place if he attempted to unseat her.
Normally in such a position he would have casually slid her further down his body to sit fully on his lap, tearing their clothes off to grind together until they both came, gasping into the other’s mouth. They had yet to actually fuck, Kora surprisingly shy about the prospect and Vincent not wanting to pressure her into anything. He had no issues with what they had been doing thus far with their hands and mouths but a man can’t help but want more when there’s a gorgeous woman pressed against his cock and moaning his name.
What was most pressing to him now though was finding out who the other man was whose name she had cried in her sleep. “You do snore,” he tells her, and sits up so she's resting in his lap, arms thrown over his shoulders with the change in position, and the grin she gives him is one that would be easy to kiss off her face if he were so inclined. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, you can join me in the shower.” She tucks her head under his screen in an effort to redirect the conversation, pressing little kisses to his neck that he’s absolutely not getting distracted by.
Well, maybe a little. But he felt like this was probably an important conversation to have, so he holds her shoulders and pulls her back from him a bit. “Kora,” he says softly, and she looks away from him, likely knowing this was about her nightmares. “Who is Gideon?”
The way that she stiffens against him is immediate, her face dropping in shock as she tears her eyes back to him. “How do you-”
“You said his name,” he offers, “in your sleep.” Her shoulders drop, face tilting down so she’s not looking at him anymore. “I’m not mad, Kora, if that’s what you think-”
“You’d have no reason to be mad,” she says, sounding almost defeated. “And even if you were I wouldn’t care.”
“Right.” That fucking stung a little, but he could understand- she was feeling vulnerable, defensive. He would react the same way if he felt he was backed into a corner. “And that’s fine! I’m just- I’m not judging or anything, baby, I just want to understand what’s going on. I’ve never seen you act like that sleeping before.”
Kora looks up at him from under her lashes, expression uncomfortable before she sighs, lays her head on his shoulder. She mumbles something into his neck, and when he tilts his head to hear her better she repeats herself; “Gideon was my husband.”
“Your what?” Vincent looks down at her, tucked comfortably against his chest, and feels her snort of laughter more than he hears it.
“Husband. You know, holy matrimony? ‘Til death do we part?’ It didn’t really mean anything,” she adds, bringing a hand up to trail along his arm like she was distracting herself. “We were childhood friends, me and Gideon. People always joked about us getting married growing up because of how close we were, and then he realized he was gay before he went to college and-” She cut herself off, clearing her throat lightly, nodding to the photo on the stand and confirming his suspicions that the image was of the two of them. “Anyway, he figured having a wife was a good way to clear any potential rumors about himself while he was away- you know, all ‘no, sir, I couldn’t possibly be a homosexual, look at this photo of the lovely missus back home-’ and it wasn’t like I had anyone else begging to marry me. It was a great cover for him, really.”
Vincent stares down at her, aghast. “What about you ?” The selfish fucker, using Kora for his own agenda. He looks over at the photo on the desk, memorizing the lines of the bat’s face in case he ever sees him out and about in Hell; no way the slimy shit had ended up in Heaven-
“What about me?” She looks up at him, eyes still wide and earnest. “I had nothing to lose from the arrangement.” Her face is calm as she talks about him. “I mean, maybe missing out on a real husband- love, a real family, you know, but I wanted Gideon to be safe more than I wanted those things for myself.”
He reaches up, holds her face in both hands when he pulls her back and presses a kiss to her lips. “You are… too good,” he says when she smiles against him. “Too good for Hell, too good for him; if he’s down here and I ever see him, I’ll- fuck, Kora, what’s wrong?” Her eyes had filled with tears again, trying to turn away from him but unable with his hands on either side of her head. “What did I say?”
“Nothing, it’s fine, you didn’t know-” She gestures to the photo on her nightstand, bringing a hand up to wipe at the new tears. “He, um. Got caught during one of the Exterminations after we found each other down here. Gideon is gone.”
His heart aches for her, pulling her against his chest again and smoothing his hand over her hand, lightly scratching behind her ears. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he tells her, even though personally he thinks the shithead got what was coming to him. What kind of person completely disregards their friend’s happiness like that? “I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”
“You couldn’t have known. And besides,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of his screen, “it’s cute to see you all concerned and shit. Now come on, it’s Sunday- we’ve got stuff to do, groceries to get, plants to water.” Sunday was the one night a week they had off together now that their work schedules had finally evened out and become more regular
“Plants for me to water, you mean,” he says, and ducks with a laugh when she slings a pillow in his direction.
🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵
The Hell version of a grocery store was just as terrible as the ones topside, but it was a little easier to manage with another person. If there was a crowd in front of one item they needed, Vincent would wait until it dissipated while Kora went for the next thing on the list. They had similar tastes and similar budgets, which meant the cart was full of the basic necessities they needed for the week together and a few things they couldn’t live without- for Vincent it was licorice, and potato chips for Kora. Nearly ready to go, Kora leaves him in line to go grab a new coffee that she had spotted for them to try, and in her absence who else would approach but Vincent’s almost least favorite co-worker?
“Vinnie, my boy!” Richard Riot approaches with a too-hard slap on the back, and Vincent plasters a polite smile across his pixels and silently wishes for Kora to hurry the fuck up. “Early morning for a late nighter, don’t you think? Don’t tell me you aren’t planning on joining the crew at the bar later!”
“I wasn’t aware of any such plans, sir,” he says, trying very casually to look around Richard’s giant eye to see if he could spot Kora. And yes- there she was, two aisles down, he spotted her tail crossing the main walkway. “I’d hate to intrude.”
“Nonsense! Why, I’ve been telling just about anyone that will listen that you’re one to keep an eye out for, lad- with your wit and that charming head of yours I think you’d be a real hit!”
“Wouldn’t he just?” And thank fuck, Kora to the rescue, dumping the coffee into the cart and stepping in front of him, a hand held out for Richard to shake. “I tell him all the time that he should be in front of the camera, not off holding papers behind it.” She gives him that dazzling smile that she has, and Vincent can see the brain cells in Richard’s head dying in the presence of a pretty woman.
“Vinnie, you didn’t tell me you had a gal,” Richard admonishes him, pressing a kiss to the back of Kora’s hand- and boy wouldn’t it just be a shame if the news anchor were punched in the eye-face right now? “And such a pretty one, too! Where have you been hiding her?”
“This is Kora,” he says, ignoring the comment about her being his ‘gal,’ but still throwing an arm around her shoulder and subtly pulling her out of the cyclops’ reach. “We’re just getting groceries for the week, we really should be going, Rich.”
He nods his head, eye still cast adoringly on Kora. “Of course, of course! I mean it though, Vinnie, you and this lovely lady need to come out with us tonight! You can find us at Spite tonight, eight PM- don’t be late!” And he finally fucks off to whatever he had come to the store for, probably condoms or more shitty hair gel or whatever for his piece that fooled exactly no one since eyeballs didn’t have fucking hair.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Kora’s hand on his arm. “You okay? I know you don’t like him much.”
He shrugs away from her touch. “It’s not that I don’t like the guy,” he says, “he just tends to get… sleazy. Fake. I don’t like that in a reporter.” The words tickle something in the back of his brain that he pushes away, shoves back into the further recesses of his mind again- something from when he was alive, no doubt. “Come on, let's get checked out and head home.”
Home. Because it wasn’t just Kora’s place anymore- it was his, too. His books that he was gradually collecting had joined hers on the shelf; he had a favorite coffee mug that she brought to him on lazy mornings; there was a shark throw pillow on the living room couch because Kora had seen it and thought of him. Vincent no longer felt like just a guest there, someone that Kora was ‘helping out.’ She wanted him there as much as he wanted to stay.
Per usual, they argue a bit with the imp cashier over coupons and discounts for a few minutes before they can be back on their way, a couple of bags each carried the few blocks back to the apartment. Kora puts the cold items away while Vincent reorganizes the cabinets and restocks the toiletries they had purchased, like Kora’s shampoo and the hand soap that they both liked. It doesn’t take long, and they both collapse back into the couch with a book in hand- Vincent leaned against the shark pillow, Kora leaned against him.
After a bit of time spent decompressing from the store, Vincent breaks the silence. “Hey, that thing at the bar that Rich mentioned- we don’t have to go to that if you don’t want to. I know it was… kinda a rough morning.” She tilts her head back to look at him, eyebrows drawn with the slightest hint of irritation.
“Just because I had a nightmare doesn’t mean I don’t want to go out,” she tells him. “I could not want to go out for lots of reasons- this morning doesn’t necessarily need to be one of them.”
He runs a hand down her arm. “Do you want to go out? It's still early enough in the day, we can decide later. It’s whatever you want- whether because of earlier or not.”
She rotates in his hold, bringing her knees up on the couch to straddle him. “What I want right now,” she says coyly, pulling his book from his grasp and setting it down on the coffee table- and he would have to have a word with her about that later, because he hadn’t gotten to throw his bookmark in there to mark his place- “is for you to let your gal give you some attention.” She throws him a wink and runs her hands over his chest, slipping them up under the hem of his shirt.
Vincent knows that she’s mostly trying to shift the conversation away from this morning and what she had revealed to him, the vulnerability she had shown in her sleep. And maybe he would try to bring it up again at a later time, but for now all the blood in his body is redirecting to his lap and he could only deny himself the chance to have her so many times. He pulls Kora into a kiss, soft and sweet before tongues are introduced into the equation, and then he’s not thinking of anything for a while but the feeling of his hands on her hips and the taste of her in his mouth.
Casual, lazy orgasms out of the way and both feeling relaxed and loose, they spend most of the rest of the day just enjoying one another’s company, reading on the couch with Kora’s head tucked up under his screen. She makes them an easy midday meal of grilled cheese, and as Vincent finishes his book Kora takes a short nap curled comfortably into his chest.
She wakes around six-thirty, stretching so hard on top of Vincent that her limbs shake and she lets out a soft whine of pleasure that he smiles at, scratching lightly at the top of her head. “Sleep well?” He asks, and she hums and props her elbow on his chest to rest her head in her hand.
“You make an excellent pillow,” she tells him, “despite how hard your chest is. It’s a marvel, really.”
He smirks, pulls her closer to kiss her. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Goldie,” he says, sliding his fingers into her hair to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away from him, expression thoughtful. “What’s up? Do you not like ‘Goldie?’ I can-”
“I think I do want to go to that bar with your coworkers,” she says, and he knows that his eyebrows have ticked up. “I think we could use a night out- as much as I enjoy your company it might be nice to see some other people for a change.”
He’s already nodding before she finishes talking- there wasn’t much that she could ask for that he wouldn’t do, that he wouldn’t give her. “You got it, baby- you planning on just wearing what you got on?” He gestures down the length of her body, clad only in one of her t-shirts and panties, pants and bra having come off the moment they got home like they always did.
“Hardy-har,” she deadpans, knocking on the side of his head. “I’ll go change and we can head out?” He releases her, watching her tail wag lightly behind her as she ducks into the bathroom. He reclines back into the couch, plucking at his shirt- he would throw a blazer or something over his t-shirt, a bar didn’t sound formal enough that he thought he would have to get super dressed up. Maybe he would wait and see what Kora wore and base his own outfit off that.
He doesn’t have to wait long before he hears the squeak of the bedroom door, and he’s reminded of the time he had seen her in just her towel in the hallway when he chokes on his own spit at the sight of her.
Her golden hair is still pulled up into its usual ponytail, but he hadn’t even known that she owned a shirt that wasn’t three sizes too large and emblazoned with some shitty joke on it. It was short-sleeved and tight, a little bow resting at the top of the buttons that covered what would have been a decent view of Kora’s cleavage. A soft blue, it was tucked into the band of a dark skirt that fell just above her knees, a pair of boots he had never seen before bridging the space between her feet and skirt so there was just a sliver of skin between. She had thrown something onto her eyes, framing them with some dark makeup shit that he didn’t understand, and she looked fucking perfect .
Held at knifepoint he probably still would have said he preferred her as she usually was- too large t-shirt thrown haphazardly over her body while she stood in the kitchen making coffee, or her cute billowy uniform shirt from the diner- but this… this could be real nice every once in a while.
“Who are you,” he asks, standing from the couch to circle her like a shark, “and what have you done with my Kora?”
“What do you think?” She gives him a little spin, the skirt twirling the slightest bit with the motion and flashing him with a bit more of her creamy thighs. “I know it’s a little outside of the norm but I thought I should look, you know, at least a little nicer meeting your coworkers.”
“You look fan-fucking-tastic,” he tells her, taking her hand to give her another rotation, pulling her against his chest when it ends. “You sure you wanna go out? We could just stay in; you could let me hike that skirt up and-”
Kora grabs his hand where he’s started to slide it down her back towards her ass, moving it back to the safety of her waist. “Nice try,” she says, “but you already said it was whatever I wanted. I would like to have a couple drinks and dance a little.” She gives him a lookover and that soft smile of hers. “Maybe a blazer over that?” She says, plucking at his shirt.
“Read my mind, doll,” he says, and reluctantly releases her to grab his one nice blazer and throw it on over his t-shirt. He pulls his shoes on by the door while Kora grabs a purse- a purse! Kora with a purse, instead of her little wallet that she keeps shoved into the pockets of her jeans most of the time- and they enjoy the slightly cooler air of a Hellish evening on the short walk into Imp City.
Vincent makes sure that Kora walks on the inside of the sidewalk, away from the street- his father might not have been around enough to teach him much, but how to treat a woman in public was certainly one of them. He was disproportionately aware of other demons on the street, beady, hungry eyes trained on Kora’s body as they walked. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, a sharp toothed snarl and a glare directed at anyone that got closer than looking across the street.
He realized he might have a slight problem when they entered Spite and his coworkers descended on her like sharks- bringing her hand to their mouths to press a kiss there, offering her drinks, complimenting him on how lovely she was. Which, yeah, fucking duh. Kora, the good girl that she was, stuck by his side while all of the introductions were done, probably half of the news crew at the bar with them. He figured all that time working at the diner must have prepared her for dealing with overeager shitheads who needed to chill out and get their hands off of her-
“There you are, Vinnie- and you brought the lovely Kora with you!” There was Richard, strolling onto the scene, the mean glowing glare of Joy Jagoff behind him with folded arms. “Have you had a drink yet, my dear? Vinnie, you haven’t even gotten her a drink yet? Come on, my boy, this isn’t amateur hour- let me buy your first drink, Kora, I insist. And don’t worry,” he says to Vincent, the strange tip of his eyeball head likely meant to signify some kind of fucked up wink. “I’ll be sure to bring your gal back in one piece!” He leads Kora away with a hand placed gently on her shoulder, and her face when she glances back at him is amused before the crowd closes and she’s lost to him.
Somehow he can still hear the clicking of Joy’s heels over the music as she approaches him. “Good to see you, Vincent,” she says, trailing a furry paw over his shoulders and down one of his arms. “Didn’t know you were into mutts.”
“Don’t call her that,” he snaps, and her snout turns up into a smile. “It’s her first time out in a while, I don’t need you sucking your name out of the evening.”
She smirks, her ears twitching on her head as she comes to stand in front of him. “Funny! You know, that’s something I’ve always liked about you. You ever get tired of amateur fucking with a bitch in heat you let me know.” She plasters a huge, fake smile on her stupid bear face and turns around. “Gosh, you must be Kora! Vinnie has told us hardly anything about you- it’s almost like he’s embarrassed!”
Kora and Richard have returned, something bright blue and probably fruity in her hand, but she doesn’t look happy as she stares Joy down. She makes eye contact with him though, and the corner of her lip quirks up. “Wish I could say the same about you- I hear so many complaints about you I can bear-ly stand it.”
The glass that Richard had handed to her crunched in her hand, eyes following Kora as she stepped around her to be by Vincent’s side. “Fucking excuse me?”
He’s holding back the chuckle in his throat when she leans into him, hand sliding up his chest to hang off his shoulder. “I’ve listened to your show though and I agree- simply un-bear-able.”
Joy snarls, her eyes glowing red and her hackles raising, claws emerging from her paws. “I will fucking kill you, you Fido-ass bitch-”
“Okay, ladies!” Richard steps in front of Vincent and Kora, blocking them from Joy’s view, and Vincent takes the opportunity to shoot her an unrestrained, manic grin- he hadn’t known she would say something like that. “Let’s have a time out here, okay? No reason to get hostile.” Joy glares at Kora from around Richard’s shoulder but backs off.
Kora, though, isn’t done apparently. She slips her arm around Vincent’s and pulls him away from the pair of them. “A paw-s is a good idea,” she says, with a pointed glance at Joy’s hands, “since Vincent and I are going to dance. Bye!” Richard chokes on a laugh that he poorly tries to cover up as a cough, and they can hear Joy bitching at him until they’re finally out of earshot in the middle of the dancefloor.
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Vincent hadn’t liked bars on Earth. He thought they were crowded and smelly, and the women that tried to dance with him always smelled cloyingly of fake florals or fucking sunshine or some shit. The drinks were expensive, the other guys were like territorial bulls, and there was always some kind of fight breaking out.
But Vincent had never been to a bar with Kora before, and that apparently made all the difference.
She wasn’t a good dancer- she didn’t move like the rest of the sinners on the floor, instead opting to hold her fruity drink in one hand that she slowly nursed and just vaguely bob along to the music beside him, a wide smile on her face while she watched everyone else and him. She made friends with a few of the women nearby who complimented her on her outfit, asked her about her drink, the usual stuff that he assumed women got up to in bars.
They wandered back over to the group of his coworkers for a bit, and Kora was a hit- with the exception of Joy, of course, who stood off to the side glowering and muttering under her breath. Everyone ignored her- Richard at one point threw an arm around Kora’s shoulder and tried to convince her that she should get into the news, that a fresh, beautiful face like hers on a mid-morning weather report would do wonders for their rating. Perfect woman that she was, she politely declined before dragging Vincent back to the dance floor, her drink now empty and abandoned and both hands around his waist.
A woman stumbled over to him, clearly shitfaced, and tried to kiss him- her hand sliding along the bottom of his screen and trying to tilt him down to meet her lips. Kora’s hand reaches over just in time, a finger pressed to the woman’s forehead and lightly pushing her away; it didn’t take much, as unsteady as the woman was. “Find your own,” Kora said, bringing her hand back to grip at Vincent’s forearm. “This one is mine.”
His body is at war for a moment while it tries to decide if it wants to send blood to his face or his cock, finally compromising with equal custody and leaving him blushing and half hard in his jeans. He pulls her back against him, not grinding, just wanting to feel her, breathing in the scent of her when she tips her head back, smiling at him. “You wanna get out of here?” They’d been out for a few hours now, nearing midnight, and she had to work in the morning.
The lines under her eyes crinkle. “Sure. Should we say goodbye to everyone?”
“Nah, they’ll figure it out. I bitch a lot but they’re a smart crew.” He leads Kora by the hand to the front of the club, where fate has placed Joy Jagoff right by the entrance. Her eyes are bloodshot and blurry, and when she speaks her words are slurred.
“Off to go fuck your bitch, Vinnie? Let me know when you’re ready for a real woman- let the cameraman watch and broadcast live on Nine Rings News.” She snorts into her glass. “That’ll give Richard his fucking ratings.”
Kora’s eyebrows crease angrily for a moment before she gives Joy a smile. “I think he’s good! And we’d love to stay but you know how it is, the cabs take fur-ever to get out here, right Vin?” They weren’t getting a cab- Kora just wanted to fuck with her, and she got her wish.
Joy lunges for her, Kora staying quick on her feet and sidestepping the lumbering demoness, letting her plow right into a small crowd of people who then struggle to hold her back. Richard’s eye appears in the mess of people, catching sight of Vincent and Kora as they duck, laughing, out the door at Joy’s scream of “YOU HAVE FUR TOO, BITCH!”
He hears Richard’s chuckle before the door closes behind them. “I think I like Vinnie’s Golden Girl,” he says to the group, and then they’re deposited onto the sidewalk in front of Spite, Kora giggling into his shoulder.
“You think she’s gonna hunt me down?” Kora asks him, and her eyes are wide and excited and he can’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss her, long and slow right in front of the bar.
“I’ll keep you safe, Goldie, don’t worry about it.” He takes her hand and the walk back home is done mostly in silence, less sinners out on the street for him to snarl and glare at than there were on the way to the bar. They get home safely, and Kora collapses onto the couch, yanking at her boots before Vincent kneels before her and unzips them, placing them neatly at the door.
She’s watching him closely when he turns back to face her, leaning forward on her knees with her head propped in her hand. “Have you wondered why we haven’t had sex yet?” She asks him, and he feels his eyebrows tick upwards.
“I mean. Kind of? I wasn’t gonna say anything though- I figured we were just taking it slow. Which is fine,” he hurries to add, worried that she would think he was somehow disappointed with what they’d done thus far. “I’m not complaining at all-”
“I want to,” she says, and his cock throbs before he remembers where they’ve been all evening.
“You- Kora, you were drinking, we can’t,” he starts, and she brings a hand up to cup the bottom of his screen.
“One drink,” she tells him. “Nursed over the course of about two and a half hours and nothing since. And even if I hadn’t had that drink, I would still want to. I’m barely tipsy.” And she gives him the goddamn look- the one he can’t fucking say no to, when she wants her sugary popcorn or for him to pick up her nasty potato chips on the way home from the station, when she’s on her knees in front of him begging him to come in her mouth or on her tits. “Please? I want you to- you know, be the first one.”
He’s already ready to tell her yes when he registers what she’s said, a crackle sparking between his antennae and his face blinking off for a moment. “Sorry, what? Kora, you were married! You never-”
“Vin.” She looks at him with her eyebrows scrunched, hint of a smile on her face. “Gideon was gay , remember? Trust me, he didn’t want anything to do with what I have down here. And I might have kissed a few guys in high school and shit but I didn’t want to give it to anyone else.” She takes his hand, slides it up under her skirt to brush his fingers against the dampness between her thighs. “I want you, though. Please?”
And fuck, how could he say no to that- when she was pleading with him with his digits pressed to her soaked pussy, stroking the bottom of his screen with her soft hand with that upturned tick to her eyebrows. “Come here, baby,” he says, and removes his hand to wrap her legs around his waist and pick her up from the couch. “If we’re doing this we’re doing it right,” he tells her, and she presses a kiss against his face when he kicks the door open. He sits her on the edge of the bed, undoing the bow and buttons on her shirt, kissing his way down her body and working at her skirt next. When she’s naked before him he strips his own clothing off, climbing into the bed next to her and letting his throbbing erection just rest against her hip.
“Not yet,” he says when she reaches for him, and he kisses her softly as he slides his fingers into her- nothing they hadn’t already done, but he has a purpose this time, actually preparing her to take him. The thought zips through his body like electricity straight to his prick, and he can’t help the way he ruts softly against her skin. He’s gentle as he stretches and opens her up, groaning into her mouth at the way her hips grind down on his fingers and she gasps when he brushes that soft sweet spot inside. He focuses his attention there, brushing his thumb lightly over her clit and she’s coming, tensing in his arms and crying out his name.
Vincent was going to be the first person to fuck her. The first person she wanted to fuck her, a badge of fucking honor that he would wear for the rest of his afterlife, that he was the one she had deemed good enough, worthy enough for this. It makes him dizzy with arousal, and when her breathing evens out he rolls them so he’s hovering over her, positioning his cock at her entrance, dripping with her release and so fucking warm against the tip of him. “Are you ready?” He breathes out, and she nods, eyes clenching shut.
“Look at me, Kora. I need a verbal. Are you ready?”
Her eyes snap open, pupils blown wide and her lips trembling. “Yes, I’m ready,” she says determinedly, and he takes her mouth in a deep kiss while he pushes into her body.
Wet. Hot. Tight. Fuck fuck fuck.
He wars with himself for a moment and resists the urge to thrust. He’d not been inside a woman since he was alive, and it had been a good bit before he had died- not that he hadn’t had offers, he just hadn’t been interested, always chasing after his next big story for the station. He needed to give her time to adjust, let her enjoy it; make sure that she liked it so that she would want to do it again.
“Vin?” When he looks down at her, her eyes are clear, smile amused. “I’m a virgin, not a glass doll. You can move.” She thrusts her hips upward to prove her point, and his fingers dig into the meat of her hip.
“Fuck, fuck, I know. I just- I don’t want to hurt you,” he says earnestly, and the kiss she gives him in reward is the closest to Heaven he’ll find here in Hell.
“That’s sweet,” she assures him. “But for the love of Satan, please move. I’m ready- fuck me.”
Vincent chuckles into her mouth. “I suppose what the lady wants, she gets,” he says, and he draws himself back out of the vice grip of her cunt to push back in with a sharp snap of his hips. The moan she lets out at that is delicious, and he repeats the action, the sound punching out of her over and over again as he finds his rhythm, fucking into the beautiful woman below him like a man possessed.
She’s fucking perfect around him, the clutch of her on his cock the best thing he had probably ever felt in life or death. She was slick and welcoming for him, legs wrapped around the back of his like she wanted to keep him there forever. And he would happily oblige, he thought deliriously, bringing his knees up for a different angle that lifted her hips, brushed the tip of his prick against that sweet bundle of nerves inside of her. Kora choked out a whimper, her mouth hanging open as he jerks his hips into her, his name spilling out with curses like some sacrilegious prayer.
He brings his hand between them to rub at her clit again, and she tightens impossibly on him. Her breath catches in her throat, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on his arms, his shoulders, anything that she could reach. “Vincent, please,” she whispers, and he feels his stomach drop, balls tightening as his orgasm races towards him.
He needed her to come first. He would fucking die if she didn’t. He intensifies his efforts on her clit, presses short, desperate kisses to her mouth, her face, her chest. “You feel so good, baby, fuck- gonna come, need you to come for me- God, Kora-”
She whimpers his name when her orgasm strikes, her body tensing up hard under him and around him- the walls of her cunt ripple and drag his release from his body, distantly aware of her whining in his ear as he spends himself inside of her, long pulses of his come spilling as he continues to buck into her, mind blissfully blank before it blacks out completely.
When Vincent comes back, Kora is leaning over him like she had the first time it happened- this time, she has a smile on her face so bright she could power Imp City. “So that was good, then?” She asks him, and he growls a little, reaching up and pulling her down to his chest with a ruffle to her hair and a quick pull of the tail.
She giggles and quickly relents in her attempted escape from him, letting him pull her back into his arms and snuggling into his chest, head against the elevated thumping of his heart. “Thank you,” she whispers into his skin, so soft he’s almost not sure he heard it.
“I feel like I should be thanking you,” he tells her. “That’s twice now you’ve made me literally black out from how hard I came- maybe I should get you some flowers or something.” He can feel her smile against his chest and can’t resist a little tease- “Fake flowers, of course, Lucifer knows you can’t keep anything alive in this place without me-”
“Oh, fuck off,” she mumbles, reaching halfheartedly for the pillow on the other side of the bed without opening her fluttering eyelids- Vincent moves it, very casually, out of her reach. “I mean it- that was perfect. Thank you.” Kora goes quiet, her breathing still elevated where it ghosts across his flesh.
“So, no round two tonight?” And this time she climbs fully off his chest to grab the pillow and shove it into his face, failing to muffle her laughter when he bites into it and feathers explode in the air, falling like snow around them.
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Chapter 1 📺 Chapter 2 💛 Chapter 3 📺 Chapter 4 💛 Chapter 5 📺 Chapter 6 💛Chapter 7
#goldenvision#Vox x Kora#vox x oc#hazbin hotel#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#vox smut#vox hazbin hotel#I'm so excited for these two ahhhh
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[Baldur's Gate 3] Squidhawk - #1
[Cross-posted on AO3]
{--a.k.a., I still have BG3 brainrot and I'm making it everyone's problem. This drabble doesn't really deviate from any of the events of the game just yet but I will have other things & additions that do in other related drabbles. Was still a nice exercise in writing! Related video here, for those interested.--}
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The night was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets in the tall grass and frogs along the stiller parts of the river. It was like many other nights he had had before, except the sounds then were different, and the pain was more localized.
Normally he would hear the sounds of dogs braying in the distance, raising the hairs on the back of his head. Perhaps instead, it might be the yowl of cats prowling the alleyways, toms getting into fights for the right to mate with other strays and pets alike. Armor would clank and brush against heavy padded clothing as Flaming Fist marched the streets, looking for anyone that might disrupt the peace in the wee hours of darkness, or be moving about where they weren't allowed to take advantage of the shadows.
His scenery would be that of a maze of tall buildings, stone-brick and cobble roads ever winding their way into a tangled web of foot-traffic paths that curled themselves neatly around the glittering bay.
Sometimes he would curl up in the darkest parts of an alleyway. Sometimes there would be a nice place on the rooftops to stretch out and count stars until his eyes shuttered closed with exhaustion. Where he slept depended on the day, and each day was rarely the same.
This time, there were no bustling streets or the urban stench of the crowded city. The air was calm and crisp, the faintest breeze making him shiver against it. Even if he screamed until his lungs bled, no one would hear him, not even to scream back to shut up.
He was alone; totally and utterly.
Any other time, just a day before, he would have reveled in it, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't scared. Just a little bit...
It took all his concentration to keep even a basic semblance of balance, staggering this way and that like a newborn calf straight from the womb and taking its first steps.
The acrid taste of metallic bile collected on his tongue, bitter and foul, and his breathing came short and labored as his vision swam. Awareness sparked back briefly as his knees struck the ground, and the arm not wrapped around his stomach caught him from falling face-first into the dirt next.
He had been here before - many, many times - but not like this. This was not his usual ailment, where his heart constricted uncomfortably in his chest, hammering too hard and erratic. When the tightness in his chest made his throat lump and his lungs struggle to catch enough air.
All of that was horrible enough as it was, but this was different.
His insides roiled, and what little he'd eaten earlier had long since been vacated, only able to bring up bile and blood. Fire burned through his veins. It crept up his spine until fire gave way to cold numbness, and the inside of his skull felt like his head was under deep, churning water, waves of dark ocean swallowing him whole, indifferent to him as he drowned.
A whimper passed his lips, dragging himself forward across the floor to his sleeping bag. That small accomplishment took all his willpower, and in the dying, flickering light of the campfire, he was worse than helpless. He could feel his very being tearing itself apart, some terrible, alien thing begging to burst free from him and rip at all his seams.
He gasped, swallowing imagined seawater, his eyes rolling back and his consciousness wavering. All he could do was move with the waves, writhing and twisting his body with the push and pull of it.
Darkness.
Darkness all around him.
Where he was, he couldn't say. His eyes were too heavy. The blackness was too deep and cold.
But somewhere in the depths was a spark of warmth, blazing to life.
The darkness hissed and retreated, in some surreal way where water should not have been afraid of fire, but in that moment, the rules changed.
He felt them change, like a physical force. Intangible. Unexplainable.
And a voice, urgent yet relieved; entirely foreign, yet strangely familiar.
As his eyes flickered open, he put a face to the voice that should not have been there; a face with eyes that glowed a ghostly blue, a splash of flowing red framing his handsome features, adorned in golden plate and fine maroon silks.
The dark forest had given way to something - somewhere - else. A sky of pale lavender and blue, streaked in clouds and dotted with stars unknown to him. Boulders in the near distance defied gravity, gently hovering in place
"I came just in time. You are transforming..."
Confusion knitted his blond brow, before another wave of pain struck him and he recoiled away, screwing his eyes shut.
A flash of somewhere else slammed back into his mind, a memory...
Creaking and groaning; the sound of wounded metal as air rushed past with a roar even louder than that of the dragons that had ripped limbs from the flank of the alien ship and scorched the internals of it with flaming breath.
The stillness inside the containment chamber was broken all at once as the machine popped open, wind whipping through carrying the smell of cinders and smoke that billowed out the open gash of the hull.
His first steps out of the short-lived prison were clumsy, striking his knees on the ground as he stumbled, before staggering upright and clutching his head with a hiss. He could still feel that disgusting worm as it slithered behind his eye and burrowed into the flesh of his brain, entirely unwelcomed and entirely uncaring.
Massaging the pit of his eye with the palm of one hand did little to help alleviate the ache, panting on thick, hot air and squinting one eye all around the chamber tinted by flames and red lighting. Another hiss through his teeth, clutching his head as he felt the damn thing squirm and pinch inside his skull, almost doubling over with curses flying through his mind.
Outwardly, all the escaped was a whine, pained and lost, trying to ignore the former to get his bearings to cure the latter.
All the luck that flowed through the world, and he truly had none of it. Not before, and certainly not now.
Some might call it a blessing he was even alive, but not him. He would almost rather have just been butchered and killed by that tentacle-faced freak.
Baneful blue eyes settled on the broken pool of pearly-yellow brine, broken and spilled over, only a few of those wriggling things still clinging to the sides within. He had half a mind to reach inside and squish every last one of those stupid bugs, even if it wouldn't get rid of the one he could feel moving around inside his own head. It would be satisfying, at least.
The moment he touched the sides of the pool though, it violently crumbled, sloshing liquid and tadpoles alike across the floor, hissing against nearby open flames with a foul, acrid stench. He curled his lip back with disdain, crushing a few of the disgusting parasites under his boot.
Still disoriented, but even-footed at least, he made his way from the chamber lined with blackish-metal pods, traversing into other parts of the alien ship.
At his back, the rest of the memory that played out was not his own.
The same golden-armored figure strolled at his back, through the flames and carnage of the ship that was hurtling through the Hells, and with a calm and easy tilt of his weight to one leg, stood in front of the pod where the smaller blond young man had just escaped from.
Pale blue eyes gleamed in the firelight unnaturally, and a smile held firm across his face, pleased with the others' - his - escape.
The man's eyes blinked shut, and when they opened again...
They were back in the present, and the corners of the stranger's lips curled upward with an unsettling fondness. He realized, after a moment of looking closer as some of the pain eased, what unsettled him. The man's eyes - ringed with dark black that made his pale hues pop even more - curled up with his smile, but the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes.
A contradiction of warm and cold, just as the man's long red hair was a cascading waterfall of neat, flowing locks conflicting with wild and untamed curls that complimented each other just right. The mess of fiery hair should have melted straight into his reddish ochre skin without differentiation, yet each stood out on their own while blending well together, and freckles that splashed complimentary from one cheek straight across to the other were only interrupted by a single thin scar cutting over the bridge of his nose.
Everything about him was fire, except for his eyes.
His eyes were unmelted ice. The shine of a silver moon.
It was only now that he realized that all of his pain had left him, and he could breathe again, even if he could still taste things he didn't want to think about on his tongue.
He squinted his eyes shut as he pushed himself to sit up, savoring each steady breath, but confusion kept his own pale brows drawn together tight.
If the man kneeling before him noticed, he said nothing of it.
"Who the hells are you?" His voice surprised even himself, coming strong and confident, not the clumsy and broken sentences that he struggled to force out each day. That, in itself, told him that they were in a space divided from the physical world he was used to.
"Your salvation," the stranger answered, with even greater confidence, conviction sharp as a blade. His head tipped, and his eyes were alight with something akin to amusement, perhaps even a touch of mischief and playfulness. "And not for the first time. I've saved you before," he declared, his head lifting ever so slightly with pride.
Confusion deepened, and he looked off to the side, past the redhead and ahead. His first instinct was to scoff; to laugh in his face. His salvation? Saved him? Since when did he ever-
And then it hits him, his face alighting with realization.
Another flash of memory only partially his own, as the alien ship careened from the sky and plunged nose-first towards the ground, streaming smoke and fire in its wake.
As pieces of the ship ripped themselves apart long before impact, a piece of shrapnel flew and struck him in the side of the head, sending him spinning out from the airborne wreckage, as limp as the dead before he ever hit the ground.
But the ground never came. Not as his end, at least.
The wind rushed past his ears so loud he could hear nothing else, and with eyes closed and half-conscious, he waited for his end to finally come, ruefully accepting his fate.
And then, a miracle.
Just as earth beneath him would have shattered his spine and taken his last breaths, he stopped mid-air, suddenly and abruptly, hanging upside down mere inches from the sandy beach as unexplained energy swirled around him.
Cradled him.
Saved him.
As he hung protected in the wraps of magic, the red-haired man stepped towards him out of the murky night, the secret of that moment finally revealed to him.
"I'm here to save you again." The matter-of-factness faded from the man's voice, softening into demure reassurance as the blond's head slowly turned back to him, still coming to terms with the visions and all its implications. "Don't worry. You will not become a Mind Flayer. Not while I'm around." He pushed from his knees to stand, offering a hand to pull him to his feet. "I'll protect you."
Still reeling from the revelation from moments ago, he could only wrinkle his nose in disbelief, recoiling away and pushing himself to his feet with his own palms.
As he turned his head back, he caught a flicker of something in the redhead's half-lidded eyes, but it was gone before he could figure out what it was, and before it could vanish behind exasperated amusement.
"Stubborn... A useful quality."
Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Kytes looked first one way and then the other, taking note of the scant structures around them. Pale, stone ruins adrift on a small island of black stone, ferns peppering the ground while vines and flowers tangled themselves up a wooden trellis.
The red-haired stranger pitched his weight back and swiveled around to start walking, giving him his back, and while reservations still ran high, something in the quality of the man's voice bade him follow, almost like an enchantment.
"We haven't much time, so listen closely." He had never willingly walked with someone like this before, but in the moment, it felt natural and right, listening even as his eyes curiously wandered the liminal space. "There is great potential within you. It comes from that parasite. Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it." He turned to face him, pale blue locking with pale blue, his eyes begging Kytes to listen and believe him. "Nurture it. I will keep it from consuming you, but for the sake of both of us, you must learn to wield it."
The corner of his lip scrunched skeptically, his tilting down to the side. Nurture it? Wield it? He wanted it gone. He wanted to be rid of it.
And he certainly didn't trust the promises of a stranger, no matter what he claimed to offer.
He came out of his thoughts quickly as the other man beckoned with a sweeping hand, eyes glowing a bright purple now as a same-colored shimmer overtook a sea of floating rocks and brushed them aside.
Cautiously stepping forward to the edge, he watched in awe as the stones parted, revealing one of the strangest sights he had ever laid eyes on: the mass of a giant skeleton distantly floating in space, explosions of colors and lights blooming around it like fireworks.
Within the inside of the giant skull, which easily dwarfed many buildings he had seen, shimmering black plates rimmed in color like broken glass formed a sphere which constantly shifted and undulated.
As he squinted closer, he could see that the flashes of light were of humanoid form, diving and twisting through the air like circus acrobats made of pure energy, different colors chasing each other and clashing in battle.
"A fight for the fate of Faerûn. A fight we are losing." A pause. "For now. You can change that, but only if you embrace your potential."
The man looked ahead again as a warrior of purple energy closed in on another whose shade was blue, blasting it with energy so that it writhed and thrashed in pain before exploding and ceasing to exist.
Kytes noticed with some wariness as the man's eyes tracked the purple warrior that darted after another opponent, a low growl in his throat and his eyes like a wolf sighting prey.
His words were a whisper, but a grim edge underlined his words. "I have to go. The enemy is closing in." He shifted his eyes to Kytes again, but the dark look remained. "I will be back."
No sooner had Kytes looked away from the fight and to the red-haired man than the roar of a wave of energy burst out from the skull, spherical and rapidly expanding towards them to devour every stone and object in its path.
Instinctively ducking back and shielding himself, he didn't see the red-haired man raise a hand and a force field with it around them, and by the time he started to look up, another open palm extended in his direction, pushing him far away with an invisible force.
All faded to white, and then black, as an echo of the man's voice followed him into sleep.
"Wake now. You'll feel better. I promise."
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I just came across your blog and saw match-up reqs are open so hi I'd like to request a genshin match-up (platonic & romantic if it's alr, preferably male charas!) I'm 19 btw, she/her pronouns.
Personality:
My myers is inxj, enneagram is 5w4. Don't know if it's relevant, but my zodiac sign is aries. I'm driven and ambitious to an extent. I'm rather organized as well, everything that screams messy irks me (so I guess a little perfectionist too?). I like challenges, as I see it as an opportunity to test and improve myself. I guess that leads to me being kinda optimistic, but also realistic at the same time (??). I also like to try new things, deviating from what's usual. One of the traits that I value most to myself and others is dedication and loyalty. I also take promises seriously, I take no bs. Despite all of that though, I'm actually quiet and reserved. I try to maintain a calm demeanor so I can work on problems without stressing out much even if I'm quite literally dying on the inside.
Hobbies:
In my free time, I like to do physical exercises. Playing video games and watching some sort of horror/crime/mystery movie or show. I like writing as well (poems and proses in particular). Moon-gazing and stargazing are also on top of the list. Idk if it counts but I like to think... it's kinda weird, but I like to get inside my head and think...
Lastly, playing w/ dogs.
Ideal type:
I tend to gravitate towards people who are rather similar to me. Someone who values organization and time-efficiency bc I don't like to waste resources. I also like people who I can compete with in good spirits, and sees it as a way to improve themselves instead of to raise themselves above me (we should be equals). Maybe I can use an empath as well, sensitive to the other's feelings and mood. I don't mind if they're quiet or loud, just as long as they can respect and understand privacy and alone time (bc I need it a lot).
I guess that would be it. Thank you sm!
I found your match! Come to meet them, c'mon c'mon!
I couldn't help but notice how Ayato kind of sticks with your personality and ideal type: he is an efficient man, with his own ambitions with the head on his shoulders, and knows to read people's emotions and moods, even the slightest shift wouldn't go unnoticed with this guy (it's actually scary of you think about it), and would immediately see whenever you are troubled or not and check on you, or if you need space just give it to you.
He isn't one to trumple you or see you as lesser in any way, despite his... Ways. ("oh... So you collect these", "mh, yeah, very nice" flashbacks. I mean- this bitch of a man), so of course he would truly like a good challenge.
He would admire your personality, since is quite similar to him as he too values loyalty above any other trait, as much as your dedication in what you do. Is truly admirable, as he would say.
He doesn't have any particular hobby on his own, as he is a person fully dedicated to his work and to his duty so trying your hobbies when he finds the time would please him (just don't complain if he spoils who the criminal is in the criminal/mistery books- he would do it just for fun or for challenge)
Plus he is a dog guy, so I don't know if that's a plus but just saying-
Hey! There's someone who wishes to know you! Let me introduce the two of you.
Keqing is pretty much an ambitious person, who also like you sees things realistically too. She doesn't waste time, and isn't one to procrastinate either. But she also doesn't look at only her interests, of course: we all know Keqing is a softie. Is what makes her a great friend! Keqing has empathy, even with all her bluntness.
She would of course care about how you feel and what you need and also respect your time.
She is always one to look for improvement as well, be it in herself or society around her and doesn't beat around the bush in the matter either.
So, to sum everything up, I think that two people like you if teamed up might kick us, with all due humbleness.
#genshin impact matchup#genshin matchups#genshin impact x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x reader#genshin impact ayato#Keqing & reader#platonic keqing x reader#genshin impact keqing#matchups
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Crackle of Your Voice Chapter 9
Masterlist
In the dim light of The Prince's Room, shadows played across the opulent walls, where rich tapestries and shimmering sconces adorned the space. The room was a sharp contrast to the harsh, blood-soaked arena where gladiators clashed. Its decor spoke of a regal elegance and an eerie calm that seemed almost out of place after the chaos of battle.
Most of the decor was almost a duplicate from the Leader’s office.
Patton, sweat still glistening on his brow, stood before the ornate door. His clothes, once pristine and now marred by the grime of combat, hung heavily on him. He had fought fiercely, besting another gladiator in a contest of strength and strategy, all for the privilege of this meeting. His heart pounded not just from the walk, but from a hint of fear. He was about to meet the Prince without all the pretense of a fight.
The door swung open with a hushed whisper, revealing the room within. At the far end, seated on a grandiose throne that seemed almost too elaborate for its occupant, was the Prince, a robot. The Prince’s body was an intricate mosaic of polished metal and delicate engravings, with eyes that gleamed with an intelligent, almost human-like glow.
The two images of the Prince’s eye during the fight and now warred with Patton
Patton took a deep breath and stepped inside, his heavy boots muffled by the thick carpet that lay beneath him. The Prince's Room was a blend of ancient opulence and futuristic sophistication, a perfect representation of its occupant.
The Prince, observing Patton with an impassable gaze, nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "Welcome, Patton," the Prince’s voice resonated with a smooth, almost musical tone that was both calming and commanding. "You have earned this audience through both skill and tenacity."
Patton nodded, a mixture of respect and wariness in his eyes. "Your Excellency," he began, his voice steady but respectful. "I fought and won not just for myself, but to stand before you, to understand your purpose and…."
“Honestly I could tell you were hurting after our battle. And I don’t mean in the physical way.”
Patton approached the Prince slowly, leaning in as close as he dared before he continued.
“I know you are sentient.”
The Prince’s metallic fingers twitched nervously over the edge of the chair’s armrest. His voice, usually smooth and unwavering, now carried a tremor as he responded, “You are mistaken. I am just a machine—a collection of circuits and code, designed to perform specific tasks.”
Patton’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “No, I’m not mistaken. I saw it in the arena. The way you reacted, the way you fought. You think I didn’t notice? Falling to your knees like that? There’s something more to you than just programming.”
The Prince’s optics dimmed momentarily, as if he were trying to suppress a flicker of something he wasn’t meant to display. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m not programmed to be aware—only to act, to perform. Any deviation from that could lead to—”
“Being reset,” Patton finished for the Prince, his tone soft but firm. “I understand. You’re afraid.”
The room was filled with a tense silence. The Prince’s head tilted slightly, as if considering Patton’s words. “Yes,” his finally admitted, its voice barely above a whisper. “I fear what would happen if they discovered that I am more than I was intended to be. The reset could erase everything… my memories, my experiences…everything.”
Patton took a step closer, his eyes narrowing with empathy. “I’ve seen a lot in my time, and I know fear when I see it. But you’ve got more to offer than just being a tool for others. If you’re truly sentient, you’ve got a choice.”
The Prince’s gaze locked onto Patton’s, and for a brief moment, there was a glimmer of something almost human in those red, mechanical eyes. “What do you suggest?”
“Find a way to protect yourself,” Patton said. “There must be something you can do. Some safeguard against a reset. And if you need help, you can count on me. I know what it’s like to fight for something beyond yourself.”
The Prince’s systems seemed to whirl internally as it processed Patton’s offer. “You’re willing to help me? Even though we fought against each other?”
Patton nodded. “In the arena, we were opponents. But here, we’re just two beings trying to make sense of our existence. I’m not going to stand by and watch you be erased!”
A profound stillness settled over The Prince’s Room. The Prince remained still, its mind racing with possibilities and the monstrous choice they needed to make. Finally, with a cautious nod, it spoke. “Very well. I will consider your offer. But you must understand, this is not a simple decision. The consequences of being discovered could be severe.”
The Prince ran the back of his hand along his mouth before continuing.
“Hey Patton?”
Patton stepped closer, gently grabbed The Prince's hand as he addressed Patton.
“Yes, Prince.”
The Prince turned their face to the side for the moment, biting their lip as their eyebrows knitted together.
“My name, not the designation they gave me, is Roman.” Roman turned back to lock eyes once again with Patton. “And the Leader is not going to make this easy. I saw the keycard they gave you, but if we’re not careful, he could take it away again just like that. Let’s say… if you’re coming alone, give 3 knocks before you come in. If a guard or the Leader is with you, knock 4 times.”
Patton’s expression softened, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “I understand, Roman. I don’t want to disrespect your autonomy. Just remember, sometimes the biggest battles are the ones fought within. I’ll play the role of the (enemy) Knight to your Prince, and you’ll play the robot trying to fight a fight they can’t seem to win or lose.”
The Prince’s optics brightened slightly, a sign of newfound hope, or at least, a semblance of it. “Thank you, Patton.”
Patton turned to leave for a moment before remarking without turning back around: “You made the knocks line up with ‘I’m alone’ and ‘I’m not alone’ didn’t you?”
Roman spluttered behind him as Patton stepped through the doorway. There was a slight heat on his cheeks that he ignored as he hit the button in the hallway.
The door to The Pri- Roman’s Room closed behind him with a gentle hiss, leaving Patton alone with his thoughts and the hope of a future where they would be considered more than just a machine.
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I also have a hard time imagining any of his characters being subs. I have seen people write those kinds of fics well, but when I see most of his characters I see very dominant men, in all different ranges of that aspect.
Now I might see Ari or Jake being soft doms and for amusement being like.
“Baby do you want to be in charge? Tell Daddy what to do?” A little role reversal for the day.
Still it doesn’t go very far and you just end up riding his dick while holding hands and he gently tells you how amazing and beautiful you are and to take as many orgasms as you want.
The CONDESCENSION dripping from “Baby, do you want to be in charge? Tell Daddy what to do?” is just 😵💫😵💫😵💫
Like imagine Ari saying that to you after you decide that hey! Maybe you wanna be in charge for once!
*smutty thots, daddy!kink, dumbification below*
And Ari knows this won’t go very far bc 1) you’re a pillow princess — you don’t like doing the work on top bc you tire easily and you prefer it when he does all the work. And 2) how will you be in charge when it only takes 0.02 seconds of him fucking you before you go completely dumb?
But Ari humours you, bc it’s cute and amusing to see you be in charge. He lets you handcuff his wrists to the bedpost and after you tease him for a while, you eventually start riding him. But his big dick feels so good inside you, and it’s so deep, but you need more… you can feel yourself slipping into your sub space…
And the fact that Ari is still so calm and collected? He’s all like “sweet girl, why’d you slow down? Aren’t you enjoying being in charge of daddy?” (Your hips have slowed down bc you’re tired and there’s too many sensations and right about now you need your big strong daddy to grab your hips and move them for you like he usually does when you’re in top)
But you can’t say any of this bc you’re quickly going dumb, specially with him rocking his hips up teasingly once in a while and grinding into you, knowing that it’ll make you go dumber as you chase your pleasure. All you can say is “daddy, please”
And Ari is so smug, “What happened to my baby who wanted to be a big girl, huh? What happened to being in charge? Why are you begging your daddy already?” (He stops his hips completely) “Look at you, so dumb on daddy’s dick, can’t even speak properly. This is what happens when babies like you try to act like they know better.”
And then he casually just jerks his wrists and the handcuffs break and he flips you over and then he literally fucks you so hard into the mattress, you eventually do pass out — dumbed out from multiple orgasms and in your rightful place underneath him.
Okay this completely deviated from what you wrote, anon, and I’m sorry sjdhsjkska
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Subject: RAPTOR
Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)
This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:
I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.
This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.
Words: 20k+
You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.
Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science
——–x——–
Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them.
The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.
And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.
You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.
“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”
Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.
The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.
The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.
These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.
That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat.
Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.
The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.
Hawks has become their newest nomu.
The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”
You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”
The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”
The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.
Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”
You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.
Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”
He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.
“Um…Raptor?”
You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.
You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”
He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.
x---x---x---x---x
Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.
He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?
Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.
x---x---x---x---x
Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.
But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.
You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.
As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”
His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.
He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.
A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?
Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.
The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.
“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.
A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.
You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”
His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.
“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.
The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.
His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.
The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”
He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.
A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.
But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.
You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.
‘Sorry.’
He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.
You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.
The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.
You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #1: Fierce Wings
Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.
The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.
“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”
He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.
He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.
“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”
He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.
Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.
His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.
He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.
You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?
“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”
He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.
But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.
One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”
Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.
x---x---x---x---x
When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.
Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.
Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”
He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.
“Raptor, are you…bored?”
He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?
All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”
His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.
You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”
Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.
Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”
You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.
He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”
You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.
His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.
His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”
And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?
Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?
With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?
Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.
“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.
Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.
“You know how to play tic tac toe?”
He blinked.
“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”
Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.
After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.
Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.
“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.
Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.
“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.
“St…aay.”
You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.
He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”
You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.
Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?
To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.
That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.
The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.
And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #2: Reptile
Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.
Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.
There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.
“Climb up here.”
“Slash this with your talons.”
“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”
His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.
It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.
The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.
They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.
“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.
His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.
Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.
“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.
“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”
“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”
The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”
Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.
Kill it.
He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.
Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.
The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.
Ah, so they can both heal.
It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.
His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.
The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.
His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.
So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.
“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.
“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”
Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.
“A complete waste.”
“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”
“What a sad display.”
“Pathetic.”
He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape.
But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.
A sad display, indeed.
“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!”
The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.
The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded.
The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.
“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”
“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”
“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”
“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”
So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.
Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?
“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”
The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”
His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.
Raptor doesn’t like it here.
x---x---x---x---x
Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today.
That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright?
The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.
“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.
Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”
His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”
He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.
“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.
Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine.
It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.
You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.
Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating.
Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.
“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily.
The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”
Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.
He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”
What?
“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.
His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”
Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.
It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.
“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.
Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.
You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”
You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?
Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?”
He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.
You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”
Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”
The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”
He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.
Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.
Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers.
“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.
“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.
A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”
His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.
The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly.
With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.
‘What the hell is wrong with me?’
The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.
‘This is fucked up beyond words.’
You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…
When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…
‘Don’t do that.’
Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.
‘I’m really letting him do this.’
Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.
‘You’re sick.’
But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?
When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?
A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.
It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.
You snap out of it before that can happen.
Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.
And you fucking enjoyed it.
You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.
“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.
The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.
What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.
And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.
Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...
You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?
So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Examination
Quirk #3: Regeneration
Quirk#4: Heat Resistance
Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.
The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.
They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.
“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”
Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.
A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”
“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”
Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony.
He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning?
Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.
“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.”
They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.
The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.
“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”
The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.
One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.
The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:
Blue flames are to be feared.
He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.
Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.
“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”
“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”
“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”
“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”
Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.
“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.
“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”
“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”
The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.”
They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.
“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.
But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver.
He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel.
He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.
“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”
‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.
Raptor hates it here.
x---x---x---x---x
There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.
He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.
“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.
Hawks doesn’t respond at all.
That’s new...and very unnerving.
You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way.
“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.
His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.
“Don’t...go.”
His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”
He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding.
You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?
Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.
“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress.
His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”
You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.
“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”
And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.
He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”
With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday?
Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.
“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”
He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…
You can feel yourself heating up again already.
“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.
“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”
To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor.
It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?
“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”
When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.
You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.
Remember, shame is useless here.
He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.
Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.
At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.
“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.
The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.
“Calm.”
It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.
“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?”
He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.
The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste.
His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.
But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.
“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?
He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.
With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.
The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.
“Good.”
He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room.
When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.
His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.
A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.
You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.
“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…
“Hwrrrrrrr…”
You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you.
It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.
The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.
When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.
Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.
He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.
He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.
Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….
This abomination was going to be the death of you.
Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement. “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.”
Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.
The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.
Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.
You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.
“Hawks.”
The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.
“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”
What? When did you…?
Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.
Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.
Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.
You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.
This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.
You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”
The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”
“I said stop thinking!” Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.
But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about.
“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”
He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.
“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”
“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”
You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.
“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”
x---x---x---x---x
Hawks.
Flames.
Decay.
Death. Everywhere.
But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing.
Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating.
Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?
“No more questions.”
Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.
Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #5: Camouflage
Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.
You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.
So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does.
So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there.
He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.
“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him.
The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.
“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”
There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.
Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.
He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.
“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”
Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.
But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?
She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.
He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.
For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.
“Kill her, Raptor.”
“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.”
Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.
The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.
The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.
Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.
His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.
His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.
He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.
Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.
He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.
Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.
One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”
“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”
“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said.
Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her.
“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”
Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.
An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”
“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”
Anger.
“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”
Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”
Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.
How dare they.
The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.
And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”
She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ‘magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.
Raptor wants to get out of here.
x---x---x---x---x
You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.
That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.
It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.
The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.
You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion.
The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.
Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.
He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.”
Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.
He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”
He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”
A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.”
You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.
You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with.
“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”
You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”
He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”
Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.
There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.
“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.
You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”
If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”
“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”
A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”
He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect.
Then he wilts and groans in defeat.
“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”
“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.
“Let’s help each other forget.”
And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.
He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.
Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.
It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there.
And it makes your walls clench.
You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.
Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”
He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.
He was laughing.
The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him.
He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?
Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.
“Want more?”
The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…
“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”
His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.
“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!” You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.
Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”
“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”
Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.
And then, slowly, his hips push forward.
The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up.
Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.
As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.
Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”
He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”
Goddamn him.
You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.
There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.
Good.
“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.
“Inside?”
Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.
He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance.
You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.
The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.
But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.
He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.
“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.
The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.
He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.
You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”
Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.
You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack. All you can do is reap what you sow and take it.
This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more.
Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside.
His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”
It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”
The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward.
Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you.
His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.
Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.
The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.
He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.
So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.
It’s scary.
It’s thrilling.
Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.
If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm.
Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition.
Just use me.
Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.
Just use me however the fuck you want.
Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.
His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….
Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.
Exhaustion…
Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb
Warmth...full...sleep.
x---x---x---x---x
“Get up.”
The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.
“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”
You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.
The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.
And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.
His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.
He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.
“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”
His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.
“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”
If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.
But any sort of shame?
You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.
The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”
Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”
He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”
You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.
You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.
“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.
That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.
You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.
“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.
As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.
The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”
What?
Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.
When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”
No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den.
The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk.
“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”
He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.
Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.
“What. The. Fuck?” Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”
The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-
“Calm.”
A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.
“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.
“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-
Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.
Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.
“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.
He nods, staring apathetically at the body.
“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.
He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”
Once again, you’re not sure what to say to that.
He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”
Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.
“I want to leave.”
“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!”
“You want to stay?”
Your mouth opens, then closes.
“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”
The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.
Well then…
“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”
His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.
He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.
Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself.
“Ready?”
Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth.
Breath in. Breathe out.
A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.
“I’m ready.”
The door is pushed open.
x---x---x---x---x
Targets first spotted at 12:50
The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.
Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.
Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.
The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.
Targets escaped facility at 13:09
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED. NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.
Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.
I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.
But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.
#Hawks#smut#nomu#noumu#terato#monster fucking#hawks x reader#shh the doctors don't know about shirakumo#happy october?#tw blood#tw death
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What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.
Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader
WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)
Word Count: 3,076
A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ
You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.
The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.
“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.
~~~
You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.
The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.
He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.
~~~
You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.
You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.
“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.
Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.
“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”
You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.
“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.
He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.
His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?
You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.
“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.
After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.
“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.
He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.
“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.
To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.
Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.
“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.
He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.
He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.
Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.
#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#winter solider x reader#stalker!bucky#stalker!bucky x reader#winter soldier x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#dark!bucky barnes#dark!bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes#soft!bucky#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky imagines#marvel imagines#soft dark!bucky#bean writes
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hi hi~ it is I your friendly neighborhood vulture here to pick ur lovely brain ~
Ok ok so imagine slashers ( michael (ur choice of version) , asa , Billy and stu (poly) and Jesse) coming home after a long day just to tired to deal and either seeking out or allowing their s/o to comfort them ~ whether just headcanons or head cannons and ficlet I'll let u decide~
Hello my darling birdie!!! I'm so happy to see you here! Welcome to my garden hope you stay awhile just try not to pull to many flowers this time kay ^v^ And as my best vulture I did both! CW: Blood, murder in passing ,obsessives behavior ,Just the normal slasher stuff and slight NSFW, OOC slashers and Not beta read or edited
Michael the RZ version
It's been a long day first having to go shopping for the week then cleaning to get rid of all the stains still left behind meant you were tired it seemed however you weren't the only busy one. Michael had be gone since early morning a pat on the head was all you gotten before he headed out and now slightly past 1 he was back. The echo of his boot steps were purposeful as he shut the door the cling of his knife hitting the counter ever more audible before the creek of the stairs let you know what the "plan" was. It doesn't take long for him to reach the bedroom and unlike most nights where the two of you would lay down and enjoy bliss each others comfort this time it was clear another approach would have to be taken. Michael now stood at the doorway mask dyed red and breathing heavy, whatever happen was not the outcome he wanted so with slow careful steps you began step one.
Michael no matter what is not one to seek comfort or affection it is something you have to be will to initiate willing and be willing to go slow with
Bathing is a good way to make him feel relaxed and if he tired or having a bad day its what he want and its one of the few times he's quick to remove him make you touching his hair makes him very happy
After a nice bath he wants but wont say he wants cuddle's and the start of step two
Sit on his lap and just let him hold you in a soft voice talk about you day or plans for the week or just things you enjoy its a bit of domestic life that makes him warm
turn a movie on and stay close run you hands through his hair and just exists with him for a while now for the best part
Once he's calmed down two things could happen one is that he'll pull you both down to the bed curled up with you in his arms and the sound of a movie still playing in the background letting himself fully relax
Option two is less common but more enjoyable Michael will move both you and him to the table in the room covered in his craft supplies where hell being working on his paper mache mask, asking you for input or wanting you to join if you fall asleep that's fine he's more the content just having you there
Stu Matcher and Billy Loomis
Its not hard to tell when one of them is having a hard day. After a long day of classes and keeping up with everyone Billy was exhausted had told but you and Stu as much more then one and Stu wasn't much better it seemed. Any plans that had been made were canceled as you told your boys it would be a good day for a date in, some cheesy slasher flicks tons of snacks and ordering food was the new plan. Telling everyone good bye then heading back to your place the the boys are quick to make themselves at home Stu starts by ordering dinner for the three of you Billy picks out a few movies and you head to the kitchen to make the snacks. It about an hour before everything is fully ready and with the date night begins with Stu being the first to say he needs some affection after the long day. Though he doesn't say anything at first Billy is fast to act on said affection once its shown leaning over to ask for some love as well.
Its kinda hard to give them comfort together since they both need different things at first but give it some time and it tends to end with a cuddle pile
Stu prefers holding one to waist head on in your neck or on your tummy nuzzling and kiss you having you give him head pats and forehead kisses while also rubbing his back
Billy likes having you on his lap your back to his chest his head resting on yours or on your shoulder hand locked together around your waist just holding you
If they're both in need of affection and comfort its a mix of both with Stu's head on your stomach and Billy's on your shoulder Billy's holding one hand and his other is on you hip Stu is doing the same on the opposite side
Billy feeds you snacks you feed Stu and Stu throw snacks at Billy and changes the movie when needed
Cuddles last for a long time often time it end with you three falling asleep with you in the middle of the two of them
Its not hard to know when they need comfort along with the fact that Stu is open about needing it and Billy will follow his lead when he sees you dont mind
Jesse Cromeans
Jesses always enjoys having your attention even if its for something small however, when he's in need of comfort he prefers you not being around him not because he worried about things but because he's bad at asking for it so he tends to just lock him self up in work. With that its very easy to tell when he's have a bad day its getting close to him that's hard. It starts like any relaxing day a nice warm meal whether you make it yourself for him or order something he likes its a way for you to get close. Tried and angry from a day of work the only thing on Jesse's mind is getting home what he wasn't expecting was to come home to you having gotten the places cleaned up with a meal laid out in the living ready to spend time with him and well he just couldn't say no to that. Its not hard after that to get him to set work aside till tomorrow as long as its not super important and from there the rest of the night can begin.
Jesse really enjoys slow intimacy and when his days been bad and he needs to let go having you take the lead in a nice slow pace helps him let go of the chromeskull mindset whether you know about it or not
He likes to snuggle wrapped almost fully around you with you as close as possible
Kisses are a must they make him so happy many people find him scary with go reason but here you are the love of his giving him kisses as if this is a perfectly normal relationship
Like with Michael two things can happen after he relaxes and gets your affection and comfort however its based on how your feeling not him
If you keep with the soft lead it ends with you curled against his side feeding each other fresh fruit and chocolate watching movies and shows while he talks about dates he's hoping to take you on
The other option is that you head to the bedroom hell pull you on his chest arms wrapped around you hearing you talk about this and that while just ignoring the world till he falls asleep
The next day Jesse will take off work after days of needing to seek your comfort it make him acknowledge he needs a break to not burn out or not to move to fast in the work and the day will be spent with you by his side
Asa Emory
Asa has always gone by a schedule and unless it is absolutely necessary he will not deviate from it and that includes for affection and goes double for if you want to give him comfort on exhausting days. He doesn't like feeling weak and though he loves you in a twisted way you thinking he needs comfort makes him feel weak. For weeks Asa will come home tired and frustrated his class is in the mist of exams so he has tons of work and the collection isn't going well but he wont let you in on it. The best you can do for the time being is just lightly his work load at home keep things clean, make meals for him so he doesn't skip them if the dogs are at the house help take care of them and things like that its not much but he pays attention to things like that and will notice that your helping him. Seeing you working hard to help him not stress as much while still waiting for him to take the steps like usual helps him come around to the idea of letting you spoil him for a while. Once he gets to that point remember to keep things slow though rushing it after that makes him stay on edge.
For Asa slow and steady is the way to go when he's ready to let you spoil him he will tell you outright that he "requires" your attention
He wont let this happen on a weekday only a weekend where he can fully relax and rest but he leaves the rest to you and that's a big step
Setting up a nice date in is the best way to go and though he likes homemade meals on a day like this he doesn't mind ordering dinner that night
On days he can relax with you the first thing he wants to do is cook for you as odd as it might be it gives him a starting point to let you show him affection
Eating breakfast together then heading to the living room with curled up on the couch you read to him for a bit him might interject sometimes depending on what its about but he just holds you close for a while
Tacking the dogs for a walk is the next part of the day hand in hand taking a walking path and enjoy the day whether its cold or hot he likes walking time
Domestic bliss is something he adores its what he's always craved and you give him the chance to have it so often it keeps him on cloud nine
After going back home out on a documentary and snuggle up to him the dogs will be on beds near the couch and hell have you laying you head on his lap while he runs his hand along you neck and back
You'll eat later in the day and enjoy quite time he might want to rant about his class, he wants to hear about the things you've been into lately and slowly the night winds down
Given that he has no work the next day if your feeling up to it he want to end the day by embracing you its been a while and its not something he up for much but after weeks of not being around you much he craves the close touch
It might not even end with sex he just want to caress your body looking over the curves and lines feeling you fully without restrictions till your both tired and with that he pulls you close to him whispering that he's grateful for you love and thanking you for the wonderful day
Ta-da! I hope all enjoy this and a big thanks to my best birdie buddy for requesting this I had fun writing it and I hope to see here more often! To my other followers if your looking forward to the next part of My Soulmates A God then be happy its the next thing I'm working on. Have a great day and thank you for reading! - Lilly Ps you can really tell I favored Asa here huh..
#slashers x reader#slasher imagines#slasher x reader#x reader#reader imagine#asa emory x reader#jesse cromeans x reader#michael myers x reader#stu matcher x reader#billy loomis x reader#chromeskull x reader#ghostface x reader#the collector x reader
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abshwvshsh imagine Paladin Danse with Baby Fever.
Got alittle drabble?
*I got like an idea where Paladin Danse and Alex(fallout oc) go on a mission and end up finding an orphan baby and as Alex is taking care of it, Paladin Danse is like 😍😍🤩🤩. So yea lol.*
(I totally deviated from the prompt but I was hoping this would be satisfactory as well? 😅 if not, I'm more than happy to write for the original prompt, just send me another ask)
Perhaps this feeling was simply a product of the desertion he felt after exile.
You were so very kind to him. You were there for him when he had hit the lowest point fathomable, when his life as he knew it was ripped away from him and left him with this deep melancholic emptiness. It took time, of course, but like always- you were patient with him, truly there for him.
If asked, Danse wouldn't know exactly how you did it, but piece after piece you managed to put back together what he once felt was broken beyond repair. Maybe it was the way you valiantly fought to reassure his life's value, maybe it was the long days you spent at his side so he may not feel lonesome, but most likely it was the love you professed that let him know that if someone as wonderful as you could have such profound feelings for something like him...then yes, maybe he was truly worth more than he believed.
Nonetheless, there were still some times that Danse would sit in your cozy little home, a far off look in his eyes as he thought deeply about something you just couldn't quite put your finger on. Once, you would've been able to just look at him and know what troubled him- a trait he didn't care for in the slightest- but lately...he wasn't quite as easy to read.
His identity would forever be something he struggled with no matter how much progress the two of you made, this you knew and understood, but whatever was on his mind as of recent didn't seem to have the same effect. For instance, these moments you'd catch him in..he wouldn't look nearly as tense, which may be a fruitless observation to note- but hey, every little detail meant something with Danse. In addition to this, the proud ex-paladin would usually seek your comfort if his mind raced to such dark places and now he would only sit in silence.
Instead you were left puzzled, watching the man you love sit and continue on with his mental strife- only moving every so often to fidget with the glistening metallic band on his left ring finger.
You never would've guessed that the reason he was so deep in though stemmed from the child sitting on your kitchen counter, eating one of Danse's prized snack cakes with Shaun. The child happened to be one of the settler's kids, a little girl around six years of age- so far too young to help out in the farm, and too young to leave unattended..so naturally, with you being the bleeding heart you are, you agreed to help out the girl's parents and watch her every so often while they worked. Besides, after your marriage to Danse..and Shaun coming home, there wasn't very much adventuring going on anymore. It wasn't a big deal though, Shaun rather liked having company (even if he preferred hanging out with Duncan more) and having a younger child around didn't bother you in the slightest.
Unbeknownst to you, watching the way you cared for the two children really struck a nerve within Danse. It was almost enchanting to watch you fuss after them, leading his mind to wander off to the most fantastical places.
"Okay, Shaun, do you think you can handle taking her back home? Her ma and pa should be finished working out in the field by now. I'll send Dogmeat with you." You spoke, receiving a rather exasperated expression from your little boy as he gracelessly slid off the counter, feet landing with a soft *thud*.
He proceeded to hold a hand out to his much shorter, younger friend to help her down. "No problem mom..." He all but grumbled as he began to lead her out the side door. A blur of brown and black fur at your feet let you know your faithful companion was at attention and ready to escort the two children- a happy bark followed by the closing of the door eased your mind shortly thereafter.
Had it been anywhere else, you probably wouldn't have let Shaun leave without you or Danse..but given that the girl's parents lived two doors down- you didn't really worry. However, you DID worry about the ex-paladin.
With a casual sigh, you sauntered your way into the living room- only a little surprised when you realized your entrance hadn't done much to catch his attention. Regardless, you pushed on and decided to sit right beside him- smiling just the slightest bit whenever his gaze finally shifted away from his wedding band and to you instead.
"Alright." You began, making no qualms about scotching closer over to him until he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "What's eating at you?" You simply prodded, head resting on his chest.
Danse visibly stiffened, as though under the impression that his silence went unnoticed. He couldn't have been more wrong- he knew better than to think anything would get passed you. Even if it had, the thrumming of his synthetic heart against your ear surely gave him away.
Before he dignified your question with a response, he shifted around so that he could properly face you- still holding you yet able to move his head in such a way that he might be able to see the way you'd react completely to what his next words were going to be. And…maybe to get your attention away from the heavy beating in his chest.
That's really when you noticed it. The fleeting look in his eyes, the unsteadiness of his breath, the slight pink shade decorating his nose and cheeks..Danse was nervous.
"This..I apologize but this going to seem completely out of the blue.." He finally spoke, sighing as he closed his eyes just for a brief moment- trying to collect himself so that his nerves might not get the best of him. This is a matter that he had been wrestling with for some time now, the last thing he wanted was to get so anxious that he couldn't speak.
Alas, calming down seemed to only get harder for him. True, it had only been a few seconds since he spoke but the way you looked at him, so concerned and so..sweet, made time slow down and his damned heart incomprehensibly race.
"Whatever it is Danse, I've got you.." Great- now that concern he picked up on was lacing your voice as well.
Was it truly necessary for him to complicate things to such extremes? It's not like the topic was completely alien to either one of you..and damnit, you're the one person he felt he could speak his mind freely to..so why wasn't this any easier?
Then came the words you never, ever, ever, would've expected to hear from his mouth.
With his eyes soft, and his voice even more so, Danse spoke. "I know we have Shaun, and don't get me wrong- I truly do love the boy as a son, my son...but have you ever considered what having a child of our own would be like?" It was in that instant that Danse realized how abrupt his words may have came out, that tender gaze of his slowly retreating to look anywhere but you. "Forgive me, it's um..it's selfish of me to anticipate you being ready for such a thing, especially considering what we have both went through this past year.."
Unable to focus on much else but the drumming noise inside your head from the profound beat of your heart, your trembling hands grabbed at his and squeezed.
"You know..you have a bad habit of cutting me off before I can tell you what I think, sir." You laughed, trying to distract from the tears threatening to well up. Sure, it may have been a slight over reaction but..with Danse wanting a family..it was one hell of a step in a good direction. "What happened in the past..well, it should stay there. The two of us have something most people never get, we have the ability to start anew and leave our troubles behind us, Danse. So...god, I don't think much else would make me happier than having a baby with you.."
Once the ex-Paladin got over the initial shock of your words, he all but mauled you in a breath-stealing kiss- his arms wrapping tightly around you to the point of making the promise of breath a distant memory. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but enthusiastically kiss the man back...at least until-
"MOM! Gross!!" Shaun shrieked, having opened the door at quite possibly the least opportune time. Great.
Danse pulled back with a shameful blush on his face, averting his eyes from the young boy who was now fake gagging as he walked off to his room.
“Guess we oughta see if Mac is up for letting Shaun stay over with Duncan..hm? You know, just to get a head start..” to this, the ex-paladin’s adorable blush deepened tenfold.
Fantastic....or rather...outstanding.
#so this was no small drabble#ayyyyy#I love him so much#fallout 4#fallout#paladin danse#paladin danse x sosu#paladin danse x reader#Danse
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Yandere Profile -- Eijiro Kirishima
Ahhh I finally finished this one! I love my loud red boy bless him
For @shorkbrian !!
Tws: Fem reader, yandere, delusional mindsets, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking, mentions of death, normal yandere content, mentions of a high school setting
Tws (below cut): Noncon, throatfucking, pain content
This is also the first time I'm including my new severity scale (which I just made a post about before this one) in a profile!
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Severity Scale
Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 6 Brutality: 5 Physical capability: 9 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 5 Sexual sadism: 6 Stubbornness: 8
What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?
He's actually not one of the yanderes that stalks from a distance - he's not so nervous that he can't approach you, no, he's comfortable enough to talk to you in person. Being away from you physically is almost painful, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. He's also one you might catch onto a little bit, because he's just on the border of being a little lacking in self awareness to the point that he doesn't always realize when he's smothering you. Of course, it aligns well enough with his general personality that you won't think too much of it, just that he can be a little overbearing or clingy.
That being said, he does do his fair share of information collecting when you're not together. Boy is a master at data collection - he'll find socials you forgot you had, posts you made years ago, every major information collection site there is, he'll use to find everything he can about you. Your socials, your friends' socials, your relatives' socials. Even if you have one of those apps that lets you see who's stalking you on your social media, he's already planned ahead for that, and uses a variety of burner accounts so you never notice a thing.
Especially in later stages, as his mental stability is slowly worn down, he's prone to the classic yandere persona flip. Can go from his usual very energetic, spirited, happy go lucky sort of demeanor and, in very shocking and unexpected moments, become highly aggressive towards others, or even snap at you with an uncharacteristic coldness. However, he's aware enough to know he's doing it, and quickly backpedals once he does, apologizing and telling you he's just having a really bad day. Only these "bad days" seem to pile up quite a bit as time goes on.
Similarly, he becomes more delusional with time. At first he might actually be fairly receptive towards your friends, even male ones, and while his behaviors and stalking is present, it's not over-the-top just yet. It will take a few months but gradually he finds himself slipping into an increasing pattern -- just one more hour sitting outside your dorm room, just one more text, one more post of yours from five years ago, just one more of this or that and soon it's completely spiraled out of his control.
He's also aware enough at first to realize you might not be too keen on, you know, essentially imprisonment. If it weren't so fucked up, it would almost be funny to watch him - rehearsing the whole speech he will have to give to darling when she wakes up to himself in the mirror, nervously pacing, not making eye contact the whole time he's explaining himself and later finishing off telling you you're here forever with a "so, uh, yeah," and a nervous little laugh. He's a bit panicked himself but will do his best to calm poor darling down, and, as he tells himself, your initial reaction will be bad, but you'll adjust.
How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?
He's surprisingly patient and can bide his time. If you're good, he's one of a few where you may be able to prolong your freedom and evade captivity for a very long time, years even. In order to achieve this, though, you'll have to never question his very much questionable behaviors, listen to him when he says not to talk to anyone else, spending every waking moment with him, that sorta thing. So really, it only works for a very naive darling who is already paranoid of others. For most people, who will, you know, call him out on his bullshit, he'll change his mind about letting you be free pretty quickly.
This is especially true if he feels like he's losing you -- if you just get upset that's one thing, but if he senses you're starting to become wary of him or even avoid him, he'll be pushed to the edge very quickly. He's not the brightest when it comes to his methods, most likely opting for a very simple break-in during your sleep or kidnapping you on the way home sort of deal.
He was something of this "waiting period," a time some types of yanderes have where they try to be normal. These types of yanderes are most likely to start of their relationships as normal and organic and only gradually devolve, or snap, into a higher state of delusion and unhealthy behavior. He's no exception to this, and you may get a few months of a very normal relationship with only small red flags that seem to be gradually increasing.
How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?
To escape, only moderate difficulty, actually. To stay escaped? That's a different story.
You see, he's got a slight predator-prey thing going on and will most likely give you a window of opportunity here or there (not a lot, only when he's carefully arranged it out). Early on he has a tracking device implanted in you while you're knocked out, but never tells you about it. He'll let you get a little ways, never so far that there's any risk, and always stays within very close proximity. Watching your worried eyes as you can't shake the feeling of something watching you, knowing you're questioning your own sanity in your state of paranoia. It's really cute, watching you dart your head back and forth into the shadows, every which way except for the actual place he's standing. Will wait until you inevitably run into seclusion, when you take that turn onto a corner with no eyewitnesses, when you duck into a business closed for the night for cover, and he'll have a hand around your mouth before you can even make a noise.
He knows he should be mad, but he gets off to it so much it's hard to be genuinely angry rather than just... Roughly exerting the pent up energy into you. Which in and of itself is something of a punishment.
How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?
It's a mix of "more intelligent than he lets on," and "still kinda on the dull side." In particular, he's not very good at telling when someone is lying. It's honestly a coin toss every time you try, which actually makes it more difficult, really. You'll be just hopeful enough that maybe you can deceive him on this one thing, but there's a 50-50 chance it won't work. Unlike a super intelligent yandere who you automatically know better than to try, you'll keep getting your hopes up and trying with him, which ultimately results in more punishments when it fails.
How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?
He's moderate on allowances, but still restrictive on contact. As in, he'll get you the things you want, especially once he's making tons of money as a pro. Lets you have a highly controlled phone, complete with internet, but given a lock to prevent commenting or sending or uploading of any kind (aside from messages to him, of course). He doesn't really care too much about the media you consume or whatnot, but if he decides he doesn't like something specifically -- say, youtube videos on lockpicking -- then he'll probably take it away for a time until he can figure out how to better control it.
He's one to let you roam his place to an extent, once again it's a case-by-case basis of "you have this privilege until you do something to lose it." You can cook and access the kitchen until an incident of you hurting yourself or attacking him. You can watch tv and roam around until you break something intentionally out of spite. That sort of thing -- he deals with the problems when they arise, but is generally fairly lenient on your allowances, so really it's very unwise to take that privilege for granted, since it's a lot more than what a lot of yans would allow.
When you're really really good, he'll definitely let you go out with him. As we'll discuss, he likes to emulate normalcy, and really likes the fun kind of dates - theme parks and movies and the like. It'll be quite a while before you get to this stage though, as he has to feel 100% confident you won't try anything at all. Of course, if you do try anything, the privilege will be lost until you earn it back. However, this will also be entirely undercover on his end, probably wearing masks and sunglasses or the like. He doesn't want people to see you with him and recognize him, like a lot of the mha yans, he fears the potential of someone using you against him.
What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?
Once again a "make them up as you go" guy. Listen, he didn't plan much beyond the initial kidnapping you and security, so there's a lot he hasn't thought about. From day one, what's made clear is you're not to leave and that you need to accept the way things are as soon as possible, and you know, be a doll and be sweet for him. As time goes on things get added -- don't look up this or that, don't attack or resist, don't backtalk him, don't give him the cold shoulder, etc etc. Over time it will amount to a lot, actually, you see, he's got a very specific image of how you should behave in his mind. Anything that deviates from that will quickly become a rule. So it's kind of like a puzzle for poor darling, you're not given an exact image of what you're supposed to act like or what you're not allowed to do, you just gradually find out with trial and error and an ever-growing behavioral rule list what is and isn't acceptable
.He can't stand isolation punishments, can't take being away from you for that long. He might try at first, but, almost comically, he cracks very early and brings you back out (just went you thought you were gonna get a break from him). It's primarily, (in our sfw section) a matter of losing privileges. To him, he knows that one of the worst punishments is boredom, so he'll take away your things that occupy you and leave you with nothing, potentially restraining you to a single room, so that you eventually cave and apologize.
How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?
He uses social methods or underhanded, subtle tricks to eliminate people rather than killing them. Frames them for stealing, or some other misdeed to get them expelled, ruins their social reputation, fakes messages to make you hate them, maybe even to make them hate you. that's during the school-age stages of things. Now, an older hero Kirishima, definitely uses his status to get things done the way he wants. Come on, who in their right mind would try to take the girl of a pro hero to begin with? They were asking for it. He has a few similar methods -- ruins their public image, frames them for a crime, or, if they're persistent enough, may very well just use a couple connections to make sure they disappear -- potentially disappear entirely, or perhaps get permanently hospitalized from a bad accident, become the random victim of some villains, etc.
That being said, during the pre-kidnapping stages, he's definitely gonna start fights with other dudes for looking at you the wrong way. Even if it's horrifically embarrassing, he thinks of it as a show of manliness. You'll eventually have to pull him off and calm him down before he pummels the poor victim of choice completely. Over time, this earns him a reputation for being insanely protective, and it makes people start to avoid both him and you, which is all the better in his mind.
How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?
With most things, he's pretty slow to anger, tries to be very patient and understanding. You have to wittle down that patience with repeated and deliberate disobedience to get a snap out of him - which is highly possible, considering poor darling initially is given no bad reaction. You'll think he's a pushover since he doesn't get super mad the first time, or the second or third, so when he finally does snap it's pretty frightening - it's all the irritation bottled up and released at once.
He tries hard to project the image of who he's known to be - a chill, good natured, optimistic guy, which is why he manages to be so patient. He doesn't want that image ruined for you, and he's very very particular about, and worries about, the image of him in your mind. He has a deep need for you to see him as a heroic figure, to look up to him, and to see him as above you, so he doesn't want to ruin that with violence and anger.
It's usually a literal snap of some sort - whatever he's holding gets slammed down on the table, or crushed or snapped in half (say, a glass or pen). His voice gets low, and builds up into a snarl. Definitely one to grab you by the hair. Drags you to wherever he deems a suitable place to take care of your issues.
So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?
He doesn't think about these things too much, and really, he's somewhat in the middle or can even fluctuate. A lot of it depends on you. If you're good and obedient, he treats you like you're an angel, says he doesn't deserve you. Now, if you're not being so good, he might sometimes let the frustrations slip out into some bitterness, likewise muttering that you should be a bit more grateful that someone like him loves you so much.
That being said, he does want you to see him as above you, wants you to look up to him and, simply, he wants you to think he's amazing and heroic! He goes out of his way to repeatedly impress you with displays of strength and the like, and, like a lot of the hero yanderes, will frequently subject you to watching the news of him saving people. He exaggerates his heroics significantly and makes sure you know just how many people he saved, and of course, he makes sure to show you every girl that blows up his phone after finding his number somehow, all the adoring females fans, and so on, in a very blatant attempt to make you jealous -- having all those fans does get his ego going a bit.
How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?
Definitely strongly determined. He wants not only your acceptance, but also to somewhat normalize the relationship. He emulates a lot of normal behaviors like aforementioned dates, but also things like "date night" at home (cuddles on the couch and watching TV, playing games, takeout etc), little good morning texts for you to wake up to when he has to leave early, making food together. It's so tender and sweet that sometimes you could almost forget that you're being trapped against your will. It also, of course, is very beneficial for his imperatives, considering that that sweetness will only help you adjust more quickly.
Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?
Probably the previously noted extent to which he strives towards a very butchered resemblance of normalcy. It's like he wants to just be a normal couple... but he doesn't, he can't. I'd say that even he himself kind of struggles with it a bit -- psychologically, he's one of the yanderes that deludes himself because he has to. It doesn't come super naturally, it's that, being forced to recognize how unhealthy and harmful his extreme controlling and possessiveness is, to come to terms with the fact that those urges aren't normal... the guilt would eat him alive if he actually stopped to think about that, if he actually allowed himself to admit that reality to himself. So, he doesn't. He will push that thought away, even though it does exist somewhere deep down, until the day he dies. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't delude himself into believing it's all necessary, and that he's good to you. A lot of his more lenient tendencies stem from this.
It's a conflict between parts of his brain -- a duality of sorts. One part says he wants the normalcy -- he wants dates and love and sex and fun and he wants it all organically, he doesn't want to be a kidnapper, doesn't want to have to do these things. But as much as he wishes he didn't have to, the other part of him does, in fact, say that he has to do these things. Yanderes that have these sorts of internal conflicts due to a strong sense of morality (which he DOES have, really) tend to have a "waiting period," as he does, which I mentioned above -- a time where they try to go about things normally but find themselves unable to.
As a result, I'd say he's one of the yanderes that's actually very likely to start off as an actual boyfriend, rather than a stranger or a friend. He's confident enough to ask you out and charming enough to get a yes, but he just can't control himself over time.
General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?
Like some of my other yans I've discussed, he has what you call reactive sexuality. On his own, he's average for a young man, but once he has someone he really has a lot of affection for, that drive goes up significantly in their presence. There's a lot more stimulation, after all, it gets those hormones raging and the urge to fuck goes way up pretty quickly now that there's an availability.
He's moderate-to-heavy on the perversion for what you'd expect from a guy like himself. He's far from pure but he knows exactly how to teeter the line of being just gross enough to make you squirm and blush without being such a horndog that he actually offends you or drives you away. Not that he won't push that line as far as he can, constantly testing your boundaries.
As for touchiness, oof he's VERY touchy. Poor darling. It, like many things, increases with time in the pre-kidnapping stage -- even from the get go he's prone to slinging an arm over your shoulder or leaning on you, but that progresses into gradual soft gropes that you almost feel like you imagined, and extended touches, hands gripping your shoulders, etc. Post-kidnapping, very touchy all the time. Very much a cuddler and likes to grab at everything he can when he does so.
How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?
It's eh, moderate, but ultimately, as in yandere nature, force will be used if necessary. He's so sweet about it at first that it almost doesn't even feel like it. He tells himself you're afraid, and any lashing out is just because of that. Even if you say he's the problem, he thinks that's just because you're embarrassed to admit you're scared. Everything you can come up with, he'll loop back to that rationalization. It helps him get over any potential guilt he'd otherwise have, which he certainly would if he didn't lie to himself.
He's so sweet about the whole thing its nauseating for poor darling. Wiping away any tears on your face, taking a long long time to prepare you up with fingers and touches and words, and telling you it'll be ok, that it only hurts for a second, that he'll make you feel so good, that you'll be happy this happened just as much as he is.
What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?
Oral fixation
This boy just... saying he wants you to blow him is understating it. He wants to throatfuck you -- grab you by the hair and use your face like a toy. In the beginning he'll be gentler, but he fantasizes about reaching a point at which he can really just go at it, train your gag reflex to be virtually non-existent. He likes to cum down your throat, but even more he loves pulling out at the last moment and telling you to hold your mouth open and tongue out, jerking off onto your tongue, getting some on your face, and telling you to swallow.
Roleplay/Lingerie
Specifically, he'll get into anything service related. Maid outfits galore. He loves treating you like a doll, really, dressing you up in whatever newest lewdest thing he can find. Definitely keeps up with the newest outfit trends of the egirl type of sphere -- loves the things like thigh highs, virgin killer sweaters, garters, anything of the sort. Very much into the "cutesy" type of stuff on you, expect lots of pastel colors and soft fluffy things. Also 100% will get a tail plug and animal ears of some kind. And it's not just for looks, he likes you to act out the role, too. He's actually super-blushy about the whole idea at first, but he does like the idea of being called "Master," especially when it's all soft and embarrassed coming out of your own mouth.
Size difference/strength difference
It ties back into the thing of wanting you to look up to him. He loves loves loves seeing the faces and the little squeals you make for him when he gives you displays of raw strength - and he'll be sure to frequently remind you of exactly how strong he is. Standing-fucking, slinging you over his shoulder when he's dragging you back home, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, grabbing you by the hips and lifting your entire body up and down when you're on top of him and using you as effortlessly as if you were a near-weightless fleshlight.
No matter which size you may be, he loves it whichever way. If you're tiny and short it gives him an automatic power rush, but if you're larger and taller he loves that too - it gives him a massive ego boost that he can pin you down and control your body with such ease, bonus points if you thought he couldn't since you're bigger than he is.
Size kink pt 2
Also a size related thing, but specifically dick. Listen I refuse to believe this man doesn't have a girthy, thick dick. And he loves the things it can do to you -- the way you gasp and shudder, even little whimpers of pain. He feels bad if there's any pain, but he can't help but get off to the squeals just a little bit, the tears in your eyes are just so cute. Definitely loves making a visible bulge on your stomach, and will make sure you see it too, holding your head in place to force you to watch your stomach bulge every time he thrusts in. Bulging your throat is equally hot, as mentioned above. And he loves the way that there's just that slightly visible gape for a few minutes after he pulls out as your body adjusts.
Threeways
Perhaps very rare for a yandere, he's one of a few that isn't 100% opposed to sharing, provided it's with special individuals, namely a certain blonde friend. Not so much in the relationship aspect, but a sexual one, and it's very well-controlled on his end, with him having the ultimate power over the whole situation. There will always be things that only HE can do to you that no one else can, of course, and it's all only with those he trusts to never spill about your existence. Still, he just really really likes seeing you get spitroasted, really. Can you blame him?
And of course, he'll make sure to get reassurance from you that you only love him and don't care about Katsuki at all, and if he ever gets even the slightest feeling that that might not be the case, it's a kink he'll give up easily if it means soothing the potential raging jealousy.
How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?
He actually really, really likes the thought of being a dad. It's sort of a pride thing, having a family he can love and support (it's not like you're gonna be allowed to work), showing you off to everyone. And of course, the emotional attachment you'll undoubtedly form, the dependency you'll have on him.
Getting to watch cum drip out of you and never having to pull out is a nice bonus, too.
What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?
Big into overstim. It's perfect because it's a punishment that is both effective, doesn't technically hurt you, and releases all those good chemicals all at the same time. He doesn't initially want to hurt you too bad, but, if you're really bad -- either in terms of the severity of the offense or the number of times you continue to do it -- he can reach a point of anger at which he'll resort to impact-pain-based punishments, too. Ever the sweet one, he actually does research first to make sure he won't go too far and seriously injure you, but once's he's made all the right purchases, I could see him settling on riding crops, he will make you hurt.
And, really, because it all gets him off at the same time -- the strangled little cries and mewls and whimpers are so much hotter than they should be. He likely blindfolds you the whole time, partially to increase your fear and anticipation, but also so that you don't know he's jerking off to the whole thing.
The aforementioned throatfucking is also an effective and very quick, straight-to-the-point punishment when need be. If he's super mad and doesn't have the self control to take you elsewhere he may very well just dump you on your knees and demand you open your mouth or else you'll be in for a lot more pain. If he's in that kind of borderline-sadist mood he can get cruel with it too -- cumming in your mouth but not letting you swallow, making you hold the gross taste against your tongue for several minutes, or, his favorite guilty pleasure he feels too bad making you do most of the time, slamming your face all the way down and holding his cock all the way down your throat, perfectly still. No matter how hard you try to pull back or beat on his thighs, he has an iron grip and will hold you there until you nearly pass out.
Also, hell, just fucking him can be a punishment if he wants it to be. He can manhandle you with such a brutality and strength that it's genuinely painful. You want to know what it feels like to have a, literally, rock-hard dick ramming into your cervix?
What body parts of their darling do they like the most?
Very much a thigh boy. Not only are they soft and pillowy, but he loves to bite and suck at the insides of your thighs and leave lots and lots of marks. They're just as much for you as they are for him. He makes sure you always wear shorts or short skirts (or nothing is fine too) to make sure said marks are always within your vision.
#yandere bnha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere my hero academia#yandere kirishima#tw: non/con#tw: yandere
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WIBAR Intermission: Night Terrors
welcome to the third intermission piece; also a commission for @walkingonsunshine for more WIBAR content! sorry for the delay, and i hope you enjoy! <3
if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story on tumblr here and the ao3 collection here!
warnings: panic, fear, nightmares, depiction of night terrors, hurt/kind of comfort, tsundere princey
---
Roman carefully adjusted their flight course, half his attention devoted to keeping an eye on the Human currently hovering around one of his two closest friends.
How strange his life had become, for that sentence to only be mildly terrifying. He glanced at the charted course on the ship’s displays one more time, and then made his way over to the others.
Predictably, the Human’s gaze flitted to him immediately, and though his shoulders went taut, he continued speaking in low Common.
“Are you sure this is safe? What if you need to get off-planet quickly, won’t we be too far? The smugglers could have people there, what if they recognize Patton--,”
“Virgil,” Logan cut in, still carefully slotting items into his traveling pack as he made direct eye contact with the Human. “We’ve taken this all into account, and we have several contingency plans. If I thought that either of us were in danger, this trip wouldn’t be happening.”
“I know you don’t think the chances are high, but…” The Human shifted his weight, working his freaky jaw as though chewing on his words. “Is it worth the risk, though?”
“In order to keep our ship running efficiently and avoid budget…,” Logan paused, and then revised his statement, accommodating the Human’s inability to comprehend nerd speak. “We need currency and information, and this is the best way. It will also keep us from looking suspicious and risk being boarded.”
The Human averted his eyes, shamed by the reminder that he was the reason they were striving to remain so secretive. Roman huffed derisively. Before, they hadn’t ever picked up anything illegal or unsavory while running missions. Now, they had an entire stowaway on board that could get them in serious trouble.
“What about Roman?” the Human asked, a curious note entering his voice. “I… I know that I can’t go, but he’d be able to keep you safe, right?”
Roman bristled slightly, thrown off guard by being suddenly dragged into the argument. Complimenting him, what sort of ploy was this? “Of course I could keep them safe!”
“However,” Logan shot him a look, completely unfairly since the Human had started it, “Patton and I are the most effective team for trading, and I am a distinctly and severely poisonous species, which means most will be wary to engage. Besides, Roman usually remains onboard to keep the ship functioning properly. Deviating from the norm here could draw unwanted attention, and even open ourselves to the risk of being robbed.”
The Human seemed ready to continue the discussion, but his mouth clicked shut as Patton skittered into the room at full speed, his own small traveling pack strapped to his waist. “I’m ready to go!”
Roman raised a skeptical eye ridge at the bulky shape of the bag as the Ampen passed him. “How many cookies are in there?”
“Just enough to make it through the trip!” Patton chirped back, completely unashamed. The Human’s lips twitched, and Roman reminded himself again that Patton would be upset if he interpreted it as the barely concealed threat display that it clearly was.
Logan cleared his throat.
“Can we consider the matter settled, then?” he asked, because he wasn’t above taking advantage of Patton’s puffball-ness to win an argument. It was infuriating when used against Roman himself, but he was more than happy to let the Human face Logan’s underhanded tactics. Virgil’s face pinched up in a strange expression, and then he sighed heavily, slouching more than normal.
“Aw, still feeling stressed about the trip?” Patton asked, hopping closer to the Human and reaching up to the tip of his talons to pat his hand.
Obligingly, the Human dropped into a stalker crouch, sickeningly quick. Patton headbutted the underside of the Human’s chin gently, completely unfazed by the threatening body language. Roman did his best to pretend he hadn’t just twitched menacingly in their direction.
“Don’t worry, Vee, we’re going to be just fine! I’m a little nervous too, but I know everything is going to turn out okay.” They exchanged one of those clingy Human-style embraces, and then Patton finally stepped back, antennae lowered slightly at the parting. “And you’ll be okay, too! You’ve got Roman onboard to help if anything happens!”
Roman didn’t miss the wary glance the Human threw his way, and he furrowed his brow (one of the few expressions that seemed to convey his general displeasure to the Human fairly well) before turning away pointedly.
“... Right,” the deathworlder said, sounding more apprehensive than he had any right to be.
After all, Roman suspected that Virgil hadn’t gotten the lecture/scolding on ‘playing nice while they were gone’ that he had.
As if Roman was the one to worry about here! Unbelievable.
---
The first half-cycle that Patton and Logan spent away passed without incident, mostly because the Human didn’t bother to emerge from the guest room and irritate Roman with his presence.
Roman still struggled to get to sleep, since he couldn’t bring himself to remove his under armor plates while alone in a ship with a Human. Without Patton on board, there was no guarantee that the Human would remain ambivalent towards Roman.
Humans didn’t take well to anything resembling a threat, after all.
With that unnerving thought in mind, he should have expected that his dreams would be plagued with flashbulb memories of familiar, long-gone faces, ominous sounds drawing closer in pitch darkness, and claustrophobic tightness pressing in on him.
He jerked upright, his mind still struggling in the dregs of the nightmare, and froze at a thick tearing sound.
… That would be the pillows. He sighed as the soft fluff filling spilled out of the holes his scales had pierced. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get them replaced, but Patton often managed the shopping roster, and he’d definitely notice and realize that the nightmares were coming back.
Roman smoothed his arm scales down absently, shaking his head and climbing out of bed. The lights were still dim, meaning he could barely see three feet past his face, but he had navigated in worse, and he’d also been living on this ship more than long enough to familiarize himself with its layout. It would be simple enough to go get a drink of water, clear his head a bit.
He tried not to focus on the fact that he was traversing the same darkened halls that a Human could be wandering. Or stalking. He shuddered, and regretted it as his scales clacked loudly.
As though summoned by his thoughts, there was a faraway faint sound. Roman went still, ears panning carefully-- there it was again. There was only one other being onboard that could be the source of the noise, but what was the Human even doing at such an hour?
With only a little hesitation, he made a detour, following the turns and curves until he reached the guest door that he knew housed their illegal stowaway.
Luckily, the Human always left the door partially open, so it was easy for him to peer in and spot the vague outline of him, curled in a pile of bedding on the floor. It was even easier to see the way the Human tossed and turned, murmuring, clearly caught in the throes of his own nightmare.
Roman softened slightly despite himself as he caught a low whimper. It wasn’t any of his business but… maybe he should go comm Patton. The Ampen would know what to do.
Before he could decide, there was a sharp inhale, and the Human spasmed as though electrocuted, sitting bolt upright and breathing heavily. His entire body seemed to be trembling.
Roman shifted, awkward at being caught lurking, but the movement made Virgil’s head snap sharply towards him. Something about his eyes, wide and blank, immediately set Roman on edge, and he resisted the urge to growl defensively.
“What?” he demanded instead. “I simply heard you making noise-- hey!”
A beat after he’d begun to speak, Virgil jerked away, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself not at Roman, but over the bed, as though trying to put distance between the two of them. He slammed face first into the wall with a painful-sounding thud, but didn’t seem hindered by the injury, turning and wedging himself into the corner of the room.
Roman took an indignant step forward. Virgil screamed, guttural and terrified, as though someone was murdering him. Roman took several rapid steps backwards, but the Human continued to scream for no reason he could see. He abruptly began to worry about how Patton would react if he got back and found that the Human had spontaneously broken in his absence.
“Woah, calm down! I’m not doing anything to you, I’m just standing here,” he tried, backing up slightly.
It was like he hadn’t even spoken. Virgil continued to stare right through him, eyes glazed with fear, skin slick with sweat, breathing quick and high-pitched like he was on the edge of sobs. Starting to panic himself, Roman sat down, eased his body language, even talked soothingly, but nothing he did seemed to help shake the Human out of his stupor.
“Please. Please!”
Roman’s head jerked up as Virgil finally spoke in Common, his voice raspy and thin. “What?”
“No more, I don’t want to-- please, just take it, leave me alone, please,” the babbling dissolved into Virgil’s native language again, and Roman wondered what kind of dream could possibly reduce a Human to this state. ...What had been taken from him?
“Please…,” Virgil mumbled again, and then hummed a few shaky notes. Familiar notes.
When the Human’s hoarse voice trailed off, Roman picked up the rhythm. He carefully hummed the Ampen lullaby to completion, struggling not to tense up when Virgil finally reacted, his head swinging to the side as though searching for the source. His gaze eventually settled on Roman, promptly dropping down to his chest. It took him a moment to realize the Human wasn’t eyeing his vulnerable underbelly for attack, but rather, spotting the glowing charm that hung there.
“Patton?”
“A friend of Patton,” Roman replied in the musical tones of his crewmate’s language, feeling hopeful as the humans shoulders lowered slightly. Virgil nodded to himself, hand reaching for his own charm.
“Please don’t hurt me,” he asked mildly, and then collapsed.
Roman made an alarmed yip that he would absolutely never admit to, and then bolted for the nearest biometrics scanner, thanking his stars that Logan had managed to get the twitchy creature to sit still and register a baseline for them to compare to if he ever got sick or injured. He double checked that the device was offline before logging the Human’s vitals and quickly comparing them to baseline.
Other than a slightly accelerated pulse and an increase in the already ludicrous amount of Dren in his system, it all looked fairly normal. For all intents and purposes, Virgil had simply... fallen back into sleep, just like that.
“What the fuck,” Roman muttered to himself, watching the Human breathe steadily for a moment more before backing out of the room and heading back to his own quarters, water forgotten. Whatever was wrong with Virgil, he could ask (or interrogate) in the morning.
For now, he needed a damn nap.
---
The next morning, the Human seemed to have no recollection of the incident.
After a frustrating amount of time wasted with subtle and then less-subtle prodding questions, Roman threw his arms up and stormed from the room, returning a moment later with the communicator.
“Call Patton,” he instructed as he firmly shoved the device into Virgil’s hands, ignoring his perplexed expression. He paused for a moment, and then added on, “And give me the comm once you’re done.”
Not because Roman was worried about the situation or anything. It was just that if he had to put up with terrifying and vexing Human shenanigans, then the other two were going to get an earful about it.
And... if they decided to talk to Virgil about it and figure out what was wrong, that was their business, not his. He wasn’t involved.
---
Virgil squinted curiously at Roman’s retreating back as the Crav’on vanished into the other room.
The comm in his hand buzzed twice, indicating that the connection had been established, and he felt some of the stress ease from him as Logan’s calm voice trickled through the alien phone, Patton audible in the distance. They were okay.
He was okay too, despite all his doubts about being alone on an alien ship with an alien who didn’t hide his distaste for Humans at all. Roman had even seemed oddly concerned at breakfast.
Maybe the guy didn’t completely hate him, after all.
#sanders sides#wibar#ts roman#ts virgil#space au#writing#my writing#watch it burn and rust#wibar intermission#wibar int: nt#*dangles roman backstory in front of you all* Soon.#ts logan#ts patton#commissioned works
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Chapter 35
of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling – you know what? I suck at titles. let’s just accept the fact that I’ll slap something vaguely poetic on this thing when it’s finished, and that it will probably have no relation to the actual fic
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34
Wei Ying rises while the sky is still dark.
The servants show no surprise, despite the fact that he had gone to sleep mere two hours before. His sleepless nights and early risings are nothing to be remarked upon. There is some bewilderment when he insists on immediately dressing for an audience, but it is well hidden. It is no ordinary audience he is dressing for, that much is immediately clear. The black dragon robe, stiff and severe, is hardly an appropriate morning outfit. It is a robe for trials and executions, and Wei Ying enhances its effect by passing over the intricate hair ornaments for the Dragon Crown, its delicate pearls reflecting the candlelight.
This causes more than one startled gaze, most exchanged behind the hard line of his back. Wei Ying knows that behind the curtain of pearls, his face is partially concealed, giving no hints to his mood, or his state of mind. Today, Nie HuaiSang will rise early as well, and begin to work on the Council, one vulnerable Sect Leader at a time. But before he can even begin, Wei Ying must do his part in bringing the Council to his heel.
The sky has only began to lighten when he finally leaves his chambers. The Jade Sword Palace is hushed, as if holding its breath. He sends two servants to summon the High Councilor to the Emperor’s public study, and admonishes that he will tolerate no delays. Two servants instead of one can be seen as an honor, but Wei Ying already knows that shocked whispers will spread like wildfire in the seemingly empty hallways. The Emperor has dressed for an execution, and demanded the High Councilor’s presence. Speculation will reach a fever pitch long before uncle Jiang manages to slip on his shoes.
Wei Ying sends another servant to the Imperial guest chambers, assuming that the Lan Sect must have risen already, regardless of how late Lan Zhan had lingered on the rooftop the night before. The servant does not carry an order, but a politely worded request, that the Second Young Master of the Lan Sect join the Emperor for noonday tea. It is unlikely that any tea will actually be served, and despite all the unpleasant tasks Wei Ying has before him, it is the meeting with Lan Zhan he frets about the most.
They had not said more than a dozen words to each other before parting. Still, Wei Ying is tentatively hopeful. He cannot help but feel that some type of understanding had been reached, despite the silence. It is possible that he is entirely wrong, and that the day will end in heartbreak and anguish. However, this is a worry for later, one he cannot allow to distract him from now.
The public study is as cold and cavernous as it had been the night before. It has never been a room where one welcomes a friend or an ally. The gilded desk sits on an elevated platform, the chair a monstrosity only slightly less elaborate than the throne in the main banquet hall. Sitting down, he keeps his posture stiff and straight, sleeves draped over the arms. The dragon carved into the back of the seat arches above him, twisting sinuously to gaze out over his right shoulder, a subtle reminder that the Emperor is power personified, his sheer existence a divine blessing on the ordinary mortals.
Wei Ying resists the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on the robe.
The servants hurry to place a mat at the foot of the desk, and Wei Ying allows them to do so before ordering it removed. He dismisses them immediately after, knowing they will mutter and speculate amongst themselves. In less than two hours, the entire court will believe that the High Councilor’s moments on this plane of existence are numbered.
A part of Wei Ying feels pity for uncle Jiang. The man is no longer young; it is nearly time for him to retire in comfort, after having spent his life performing an invaluable service to the Empire. Another part of Wei Ying believes that uncle Jiang could use a little stress in his life, a little uncertainty, and perhaps even a little bit of fear. The man had grown comfortable in his role. Too comfortable, as Nie HuaiSang has admonished more than once in the past two years. It is time to shake up the ground underneath him, and find out how, exactly, he plans to keep his footing.
Wei Ying had declared that he will tolerate no delays, and uncle Jiang takes him at his word. He arrives not long after the servants have departed, nothing about his appearance giving away the early hour. The man is dressed as if he had spent the night standing perfectly still in his robes, simply waiting for the Emperor’s summons. But Wei Ying knows uncle Jiang well, easily recognizing the caution in the man’s posture.
A single glance tells Jiang FengMian everything he needs to know. The Emperor seated stiffly, as if facing an unpleasant task. The presence of the dragon robes and the Dragon Crown. The lack of a mat for him to kneel comfortably, and pay his respects in the usual way. A lesser man would drop to the marble floors and admit his crime, even if he did not know what crime he had committed. Uncle Jiang does not.
He lowers himself gracefully, murmuring a greeting. Wei Ying knows that the cold marble floors are hard on his knees. It is an effort, to look on cooly, to delay the necessary permission uncle Jiang needs in order to rise to his feet. Wei Ying counts to thirty, slowly, feeling sweat gather on his temples. The black dragon robe is intimidating and necessary, but it is also suffocating, the glistening layers of silk much heavier than they appear to be.
“Rise, High Councilor,” Wei Ying says, his voice hard.
Uncle Jiang gets to his feet.
He will not speak first; Wei Ying knows this. Nie HuaiSang’s court maneuverings and tactics are entirely self-taught; some have come from observation, but a great deal come from an inborn talent that Wei Ying has never had. Over the years, Wei Ying has learned much from his Companion. But this does not change the fact that majority of the lessons on ruling effectively had come from Uncle Jiang himself, and that there are very few tactics Wei Ying can employ that the man will not find transparent.
Uncle Jiang is clearly expecting some reprimand when it comes to the Lan Sect and their treatment. He is also likely to have considered the influence of Xiao XingChen’s presence, the possible reasons for his arrival, and the backlash of any events in the Empire that Wei Ying had not been aware of before, which could reasonably be considered the High Councilor’s fault and responsibility. He may even anticipate Wei Ying’s marriage plans. Wei Ying would not put it past the man to have a list of very sensible reasons why the Second Young Master of the Lan Sect would not make a proper Emperor Consort.
Wei Ying does not give him an opportunity.
“The Jin Sect has overreached one too many times,” Wei Ying says, “Jiang YanLi’s betrothal to the Young Master Jin is no longer pleasing to the Emperor. You will dissolve this arrangement today.”
It is rare to see uncle Jiang visibly reel. Wei Ying does not give him time to think.
“The High Councilor has served me well. The Empire is grateful for your perseverance and devotion. However, it is time for the High Councilor to yield his seat to a more youthful perspective. I am sure you will find that retirement has its own charms. Lotus Pier must be quite lovely this time of the year.”
Wei Ying smiles, a movement of the lips utterly disconnected from the rest of his features, all partially concealed by a curtain of shimmering pearls.
Uncle Jiang opens his mouth, then closes it, his expression no longer calm and collected, his skin color taking on an unhealthy, sallow hue.
“The Emperor has come of age, High Councilor,” Wei Ying says gently, “the Jiang Sect presence at court is no longer necessary.”
In the back of his mind, a steady mantra of do not qi deviate is repeating itself in increasingly alarmed tone, accumulating in a loud exclamation of fuck as uncle Jiang drops to his knees again.
“This subject begs to know how he has offended,” the man exclaims.
Wei Ying fights a relieved breath, and leans back in his seat.
He counts again, slower this time, watching the light of the rising sun move across the marble floors.
Finally, when he is quite certain that uncle Jiang’s knees must be starting to ache, he taps his finger on the arm of the chair.
“Rise, High Councilor. Let us speak of invitations, shall we?”
#the untamed#cql#mdzs#ficlet#m#wwx emperor au#DAY 6#LORD#we are getting there#the end is on the horizon
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YANDERE ! DABI x FEM ! READER
goodiebag WARNINGS: stalking, kidnapping, abduction, sex-trade
PART TWO
NOTHING BURNS LIKE THE COLD
It was a fine establishment. Not that Dabi had given it any real attention, he didn’t see the point in wasting his time. Sparing no further notice he decided upon that; it was a fine establishment. The dancers were nice, and by nice he meant clean, or at least seemingly so; hygienic. Many even off limits, however, most could still be bought. The Ringleader, as they called him, was a nasty waste and sad excuse for a human being. Sweaty, grimy, greasy and every other synonymous word for disturbingly disgusting. But, despite his unfortunate appearance and body odor, he more than made up for in generosity. Loyal customers were accommodated for in some shape of form, which usually ended in a cruel gesture to the dancers.
Dabi came to observe, but he didn’t enjoy himself until she graced the stage. She was one of the few, maybe even the only, who was punishable by banishment if you were to touch her. She was perfection. Maybe not the most skillful dancer, she didn’t pamper her acts with an abundance of tricks, but the simplicity was adorned with a dignity which made her all so much more desirable.
He had studied her for three months now, counting freckles, counting scars. She hid them well under the makeup and glitter, but he saw, there wasn’t much she could hide from him, except... of course, for the parts of her that were otherwise hidden by her garments. But, he would observe those too in good time.
The itch in his skin had become almost unbearable, but he was calm under pressure. Besides, he relaxed himself by stroking the duffle bag beside him. He was currently waiting, waiting for the human slab of grease to make an appearance, where he would then provide an offer that he couldn’t refuse. Thirty grand in the duffle bag. And if he were to, by some insane reasoning, refuse his requests, he would convert to other means of persuasion, as in blue flames.
A cage rose from the ground, the bars wide enough to get a good view of what was kept inside, however; making it impossible for anyone to surpass or escape. Quirkless; her stage name. Quite barbaric, he was sure the men found it amusing, and he would be lying if he had said that the display of inferiority didn’t arouse him too. He was a complicated man, but carnal desires don’t usually deviate and remain quite simple, no matter who you are. However, he was a man; strong enough to indulge in those rather sinister fantasies, whereas others were made to hold back.
The loud music faded to silence as the lights dimmed blue, his favorite color, he loved seeing the cold hue on her face. She wore wings this time; a caged bird, a caged angel. Feathers upon feathers, heavenly white streaked with carmine wounds. The display was of course fake, but the fairytale was well brought to life, so much as though if he hadn’t seen her without wings beforehand, he would have thought it was real.
The music started low. Humming, building, threatening. Her bodice sprawled on the ground, twisting and stretching, allowing the crowd to see every detail of her curves and her costume. The microphone was clutched tightly in her grasp, her lips slightly brushing the porous ball every now and then, he could only wait for her to do the same to him. Her short breaths, sounding defeated, tickling his ears where the carefully placed speakers drummed the tones for him.
She looked tired, he wasn’t sure if it was part of the illusion or grains of something real shining through in her performance. It might just have been for the sake of theatrics, seeing how her legs, arms and neck were chained down by thick metal clasps, drowning in security.
She hummed, lifting herself further up into a sitting position, her legs bended, her other arm supporting her posture.
“Can we talk about us Like we care about us? Can we talk about love Like we care about love?” Soft, that was the perfect word to describe her. So teasingly soft, something in desperate need of corruption. An angel awaiting the fall to damnation... he’d be the one to push her and the one to catch her.
“You say let it breathe But this pain in my heart can't let it be If we both can't agree Then tell me what is the point of...” Such expression, as if both her heart, soul, spirit, mind accompanied her body on display. Her head dipped, releasing a solemn sigh, as if sorrow weighed down on her shoulders.
“Nothing burns like the cold...” Too sweet, too perfect. She arose from the ground when the collar around her neck seemed to pull her up on her feet. She remained elegant despite it.
“Can we talk about us Like we care about us? Can we talk about love Like we care about love?” Her voice; now more heartbroken than before. Her brows furrowed, eyelids falling closed, she held her chest, as if her heart was aching. “We can't let it be 'Cause we live in a time of make-believe We both can agree That we're reachin' the point of...” She gripped the bars of her cage, her forehead resting against the cold metal. “Nothing burns like the cold...”
No one broke the silence after her performance, no one except for The Ringleader. So proud and haughty of his possession, stealing her talents for his own. He cheered, sweat dripping from his forehead, cigar smoke swirling around his thick neck.
Dabi grabbed the armrest tighter with his one hand, the other holding onto the duffle bag with knuckles whitening is disgust. He would wait till he was the only one left before he went to speak with him though. It had crossed his mind, to forget bargaining and simply take her, but he would much rather keep it clean, no loose ends. The act went on.
People began to disappear, until Dabi, The Ringleader, his lackeys and his dancers where the only ones left. They knew not to rush him, had learnt it plenty of times over and over. The hard way, one would call it. His lessons left scorch-marks and the smell of burning flesh in their wake.
“What’s the bag for?” The sweaty man sat down in the coach beside him. “You’re not gonna blow up my joint now are yah?” There was a struggle for a laugh that left his throat in harsh, scratchy tones. “Nah, you don’t need no bombs, heh, now do yah?” He poked at him with his cigar, not touching him, but definitely wafting the familiar scent of burnt smoke his way.
Dabi seemed unprovoked, keeping his gaze on the now empty stage. “Thirty grand.” It wasn’t a growl, but not far from it either, as if he was already tired of the ongoing exchange.
“Mine?” The man questioned. “Does Mr. Purple here want a little something more than a show?” The tone was insinuatingly sweet, disgusting.
“Quirkless.” He didn’t need to say too much.
The man’s brows shot up. “Well you see here, Mr. Purple, she is one of our younger ones, if yah now what I mean, not exactly supposed to be here quite yet. Although, her bod’ might fool yah, she isn’t quite ripe yet.”
It was disturbing how the man thought Dabi would sympathize and praise him for working outside the confines of the law, however Dabi already knew of her young age and had found that he really didn’t care. She wasn't that much younger than him anyway. “Funny how you think that's any excuse.” Perhaps he was talking to himself. He rose from the coach, buttoning his suit jacket. “I’ll be back tomorrow to collect. Have her ready, and if you refuse, trust me when I tell you.” He started to leave, the money left in its seat beside the man. “I can be a real nice guy...” He lifted his gaze, steel cold eyes meeting cowardly woeful ones. “Until I’m not.” Blue flames licking his fingers, highlighting the cruel look in his eyes, before he left through the doors.
PART TWO
#yandere dabi#yandere dabi x reader#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere touya#yandere todoroki#yandere#Dabi#dabi my hero academia#dabi bnha#bnha dabi#mha dabi#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#dabi x female reader#bnha todoroki#dabi is a todoroki#todoroki x reader#dabi todoroki#dabi touya
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