#realized he’s known as the pursuer

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

💥Late one night, while heading home, you realized someone was tailing you. Your pace quickened, and eventually, you broke into a run, with your pursuer doing the same.

💥Running in fear, you accidentally crashed into a solid chest. Gazing upward, you recognized the face of the pro hero Bakugo Katsuki, also known as Dynamight.

💥He noticed your scared expression and asked, "What's wrong?"

💥You shared what happened, and he handled it.

💥"Come on, doll, I'll walk you home," he said after handling the person following you.

💥You and boxer!Bakugo have been dating for a while ever since. Despite being quite different, things just clicked between you two.

💥He used his limited free time to train and get stronger, while you worked as a sidekick in a pro hero's agency.

💥He was well-known in town, and folks often wondered how a timid girl like you ended up with someone as tough and dangerous as Bakugo.

💥He was the best part of your life - your tough, strong, beefy boyfriend, and your cuddle buddy at the same time.

💥You weren't exactly a fan of his boxing hobby, but you still supported him.

💥After each fight, he'd return home victorious, winning every time. But, along with the victories, he'd also bring back cuts, bruises, and a heap of pent-up frustration.

💥Seeing him so broken broke your heart; the pain weighed heavier on you than on him. You'd carefully treat his wounds, bruises, and cuts, gently asking about his fights and questioning if he's certain about pursuing his side career while also juggling daily hero duties.

💥"I'm good, doll. No need to fret," he'd reassure you as you cared for his injuries. "I enjoy boxing. It's quite calming." Honestly, for a strong guy like him, the cuts and bruises weren't that painful. Still, he allowed you to care for his injuries because it warmed him to know his girl cared so much.

💥Boxer!Bakugo enjoys hitting the boxing gym regularly for training; it keeps him toned and in impeccable shape, ready to effortlessly pursue villains.

💥One day, you decide to visit the boxing gym Bakugo frequents five times a week. After finishing your shift, you enter the gym. A friendly lady at the reception offers help, but you decline, explaining that you're just here to see your boyfriend.

💥You see him right away; there's no mistaking him. He's wearing a snug, black tank top highlighting his muscular torso and six-pack, paired with dark grey sweatpants. Black boxing gloves adorn his hands, and a black bandana secures his hair, keeping it away from his intense crimson eyes.

💥You perk up hearing Katsuki's grunts as he throws punches and kicks at the heavy bag. Watching your boyfriend train gets you all excited. A quiet sigh escapes you as you notice sweat trickling down his forehead and nose, dripping to his neckline, and running under his black tank top. You bite your lower lip - he looks oh so fuckable.

💥Spotting you, he grabs a towel, mops his sweaty face, and strides to the edge of the boxing ring. "Hey, doll, what brings you here?"

💥You confess that you wanted to watch him train to get a better grasp of his world. Surprisingly, you admit you never realized how deeply he was immersed in the whole boxing thing.

💥He chuckles, "Yep, been telling you, doll. Okay, I guess that's all for today. Come, I need to change."

💥You follow Bakugo into a locker room after he assures you it's fine and no one will mind. The desires become too intense, and he pushes you against the door, shutting it firmly.

💥Protest? Not a chance. You just let out a little yelp as he catches you off guard.

💥His lips meet yours forcefully, his hands gripping your waist. You reach to remove his bandana and run your fingers through his hair.

💥Simply sharing these heated kisses with you ignites a fervor in boxer!Bakugo; he feels hornier than a teenager.

💥As he removes your snug uniform pants from your legs and casually kicks them away, his calloused finger slips in you, slowly stretching you out. You unfasten the top part of your uniform, slip it off your shoulders, then pull your arms back to peel your tight sports bra off, freeing your breasts; they bounce after being released.

💥Bakugo places wet kisses all around your exposed chest, his tongue poking out and flicking over your hardened buds as he slips another digit in you, stretching you out.

💥At that moment, you're already a moaning mess, and all of your shyness flew out of the window.

💥Bakugo emits a low growl as he senses the dampness seeping into his training sweatpants as he slips a third finger into your tight, wet hole, fucking you relentless, using his thumb to massage your clitoris. Boxer!Bakugo feels himself getting painfully hard as his cock twitches within his pants.

💥He withdraws his fingers, and there's an extra string of your wetness covering his thick digits. "Mmmm, look at ya, doll," he cooes, "already soaked, just for me."

💥Bakugo pulls down his sweatpants and boxers at one go, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

💥You yank his tight tank top off, revealing a muscular torso covered in sweat.

💥Bakugo uses the slick leftover on his hand from fingering you to lube up his rock-hard cock.

💥Gazing downward at the red tip leaking pre cum, a moan escapes your lips as you endeavor to press against his pelvis with a subtle grind as if to slide his cock in yourself already.

💥Boxer!Bakugo leans in, finally gliding the engorged tip of his dick along your dripping hole, which is clenching around nothing now.

💥He finally enters you, stretching you deliciously, and you clench around him blissfully, making him groan.

💥He promptly thrusts into you with a vigorous rhythm, yearning for the melody of your sweet moans, the snug embrace of your thighs, and the gentle contractions of your velvety walls enclosing his hard cock. Lifting you effortlessly, you instinctively coil your legs around his hips, securing your ankles behind him as your thighs press against his sides.

💥While he's fucking you, he begins uttering the most lewd words into your ear. "Yea, you like that, don't ya, doll?”; "Yea, baby, squeeze me tighter, give it to me, give it all to me!”; “Fuck, it feels so fucking good, doll.”

💥As you start moaning like a whore, Bakugo skillfully places his fingers into your mouth, a move aimed at tempering the volume of your pleasure-filled noises as you continue to moan around them.

💥You're uttering incoherent words and moans around his fingers — part desperate pleas, part unintelligible expressions —as he relentlessly fucks your tiny cunt.

💥As your cunny clench tighter around his throbbing cock, he withdraws his fingers from your mouth and descends them to firmly stimulate your clit.

💥“Yes! Please, Katsy! Right there, right there!" you moan like a cheap whore, trying to roll your hips for more friction.

💥You're trembling and convulsing as he feels you cream all over his throbbing cock. Bakugo emits a loud moan at the sensation and can't resist following suit, filling your swollen, abused pussy to the brim with his warm, thick cum. Yet, he doesn't cease there; oh, not at all.

💥With his cock still inside you, and with the mix of your cums dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs, Bakugo initiates a more rapid and vigorous rubbing against your swollen clit than in the previous instance.

💥"Come on, darling, one more for me. I know you've got it in you. Just one more. I've been fucking missing for you all day, doll."

💥Your mouth hangs agape as pleasure consumes you, drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. "K-Kats!"

💥Katsuki spits on his hand and moves it down where you both are still conjoined, intensifying your arousal; the slick is dripping from you onto the floor as he continues to rub your wet, glistening folds.

💥You release a slight cry as you gush and squirt on his cock, spraying and covering his abdomen with the wetness; some of your juices is trickling onto the floor.

💥"Yes, doll, I knew you had it in you. Show me more, unleash everything you've got," he chuckled with a dark undertone.

💥He swiftly becomes hard once more, and thrusts in you at an unrelenting pace; occasional droplets of slick juices are squirting out of you and landing on his toned abs.

💥Boxer!Bakugo is chasing his second orgasm, basically using you as his own fucktoy; his hold is firm around your waist, and he effortlessly brings you up and down on his throbbing dick, his hips pistoning into yours.

💥At this stage, your juices are beyond control - every thrust Bakugo gives is met by a gush of your wetness, creating a pool on the floor. "Kats! Kats! O-Oh! OH! Fuuuck!"

💥Bakugo halts abruptly, executing a series of preliminary thrusts before you feel his warm cum shoot into your abused pussy once more.

💥You cry out, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, as Bakugo gently lowers your feet to the ground.

💥After he pulls his flaccid dick out of you, the blend of your cums trickles down your trembling thighs.

💥"You did so well f'me, doll," he whispered before kissing you again. "Well, looks like we both could use a shower. Fuck, you've worn me out more than a hardcore training session, doll."

[yandere-romanticaa]

Darkness loomed over Penacony as you ran barefoot across the dimly lit streets, the drunk passerbys oblivious to your rushed footsteps and heaving chest.

It has been six months since you felt the cool fresh air on your own. Six long, hellish months of bizarre captivity that made your head spin. Boothill was the personification of a locked and loaded gun, constantly on the chase for his next IPC lackey to shoot, or if he was in the mood he would hop on a totally different planet which no one knew about, which naturally only made him want to go even more.

The pain of trying to keep up with him was horrid. Rancid even. Scrapes and bruises, hell, even broken bones became a mild concern once you started to see the plethora of wanted posters which had your face plastered over them.

Solid bounty to boot.

Whenever you would bring up these concerns, Boothill would let out the most hearty laugh, his head thrown back so hard that his hat would come off. He would then proceed to smack you across your back, proudly saying that it was his own personal little way of claiming you.

No person with any common sense would dare come for you.

He would just shoot them dead on the spot.

"That's not a threat pumkin'!" he would say as he casually drank his drink, the alcohol swishing and swaying in the pristine crystal glass. He drank it all in one swoop before setting it back down on the counter, his gaze laser focused on you.

"It's a promise."

From the corner of your eye, you could see the way his hand was resting on the holster of his gun and came to the wise realization that you believed him.

Through trial and error, you have come to terms with the fact that Boothill will keep his promises, particularly if they were related to you.

Running away from him in the overcrowded bar was... was most definitely not the brightest idea but it had worked. It was indeed still working, even with your aching feet and burning lungs. Your entire body begged you to just stop and take a breath, but that option was impossible, because you knew all too well what was in store for you.

As if on cue, you heard him before you saw him.

Endless echoes of shouts, yelps and strings of curses followed you as you continued to flee from him. Boothill pushed, shoved and kicked absolutely every single person onto the ground if they dared to stand in his way, not giving a flying fuck - oh how satisfying it was to curse in front of him since you knew that he could not - any of them were hurt.

"Come back!" he yelled, his voice heavy and hoarse.

You did not turn around, such a luxury was not possible. Against your body's wishes, you ran.

He pursued.

A chorus of shots rang in the air, all of which were too close for comfort. None of the bullets were meant for you as the Galaxy Ranger was being pursued by the Bloodhound family, each one barking orders and insults at each other as they did everything they could to keep your so called lover in check.

As if Xipe themself had acknowledged your efforts, you spotted a tiny alleyway which was perfect to hide in. Boothill had lost his momentum due to his own pursuers, giving you precious seconds to decide on your next course of action.

And with the way you could feel your feet physically give into the pressure, you made your way into the pitch dark alleyway, carefully tip toeing around any possible source of sound. With a sigh you sat behind a large dumpster, the ultimate coverage in this time of need.

A faint glimmer of hope formed in your heart. It was hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you were free from his grasp. You'd much rather take in the stench of trash than his robotic arms, the memory alone making you shiver.

Behind the safety of your dumpster, the streets sounded like a mini warzone.

How typical of him. Being subtle was never his style.

Everything he did, Boothill did to be the biggest menace and pest known to society. He would tell you stories of his escapades as his eyes trailed over your whole body like a starving wolf, his sharp pearly white teeth almost looking like knives in your eyes.

Oh how he loved to sink his teeth into your neck. The noises you let out only seemed to spur him, giving him more motivation to mar your skin. Even now the traces were there, nasty and crude. Tracing a few fingers around your throat, you felt the raging pulse point becoming heavier and heavier, as if it was getting ready to pop and burst right in this dingy alley.

If it were not for the sounds of gunfire, you would have believed that your own heart was going to betray you. There was no way that no one was hearing this, the sheer intensity so strong and dizzying. Hot white pain seeped into your lungs and quickly made its way into your veins, chaining you onto the ground.

That's easy prey, you suddenly heard his voice in your head.

The second they're too scared to move, well I'll be fudged, that's when you shoot pumpkin'.

And you had quietly agreed with him on that summer eve. You could still recall how he hid you both beneath some bushes as he went to scavenge some food for you, showing you some tips and tricks along the way. You could recall the way the thorny bushes had wounded you, pricking the soft flesh of your arms, fresh droplets of blood coating the mostly dry ground.

It hasn't rained in ages on that planet, if you recall correctly.

Rain. What you would give for the fresh scent of the rain. The harsh droplets would mask the yelling, the roaring thunder could perhaps comfort you in some odd way.

And just like that, you wish had come true.

A single piece of evening dew feel on your cheek, the liquid oddly warmer than it ought to be.

You could not be bothered to care.

Closing your eyes, you decided to bask in the first moments of glorious freedom you had managed to steal for yourself.

Boothill had taught you well, ironically enough.

There would be no more yelling, no more loud gun fights, no more long distance traveling. No more needy Galaxy Ranger who wanted you to pay constant attention to him 24/7. You already knew where you wanted to settle somewhere, a quiet and quaint place, a place oozing with peace and serenity.

Much like this dumpster, but a lot more pleasing to the senses.

The streets were quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the music in the distance, a sound so hauntingly pleasant that it made you feel -

Quiet.

Why had it gone quiet?

Like a phantom he emerged from the shadows, his all too familiar silhouette taking over the entire alleyway. His footsteps were slow, methodic. Well calculated.

And like a true phantom, he never left you alone.

His presence was dark and imposing, testing out the waters to see whether or not you were going to come out on your own or if he had to get his hands dirty.

However, he did not give you the luxury of thinking.

"Found ya." he said through gritted teeth, his red eyes gleaming like stars in the night.

Stars you would have a hard time looking the same ever again.

[eruden-writes]

Choosing the Bear - Part 1 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (coming soon?)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

Well to start with, it looked about as tall as the Wicked Warrior from the Monster Truck Derby her pa used to take her to when she was a kid. Which had to be at least ten feet tall, though maybe kid Bambi was coloring her memories. It didn’t help that the bear looked to weigh just about as much as the Wicked Warrior to boot.

To end with, judging from the size and coloration, it looked like a polar bear. As in one of the few creatures that actually saw humans as a viable snack.

While Bambi hadn’t been an ace at high school geography, she was pretty damn sure the Appalachian Mountains were too far south for a polar bear.

Confusion warred with uncertainty, keeping her frozen in place as the bear lowered onto all four paws. A faint part of Bambi’s mind realized it had been rooting around in a tree and, a little hysterically, she wondered if polar bears ate honey.

Just as the bear lumbered closer to Bambi, Duke crashed through the brush behind her. The flaps of his flannel button-up, unbuttoned, flared behind him as his white tank top nearly glowed in the moonlight. “Christ, woman! I told you I just wanted ta’ talk and you gotta go and make a scene—“

Jolting, Bambi spun toward Duke. It would’ve been a lie if she didn’t take some satisfaction in watching awareness dawn on his as he finally saw the bear. He paled to a shade almost as white as the creature, gripping his gun tighter. She watched the knot in his throat bob, fear freezing him momentarily in place.

For some reason, seeing Duke like that sparked something inside Bambi. Balling her fists, she nodded toward the gun in his hands. “If you just wanna talk, Duke, why do you got a gun with you?”

Her words made Duke snap his attention back to her, eyes wide with horror and anger. “Now’s not the time for all that! Do you not see the hulking white beast behind you!?”

“I do, but it ain’t threatening me with a damn gun and it hasn’t been the one stalkin’ me for years and kidnapping me,” she spat back, though she very pointedly shifted so her back wasn’t to the bear or the man.

A chuff from the bear startled her attention back to it, her heart tripping in her chest. She glanced toward it, risking eye contact that could very well end her life. The bear’s head slightly tilted toward her, ears giving a twitch, but it didn’t growl or lift a lip in a snarl. Even without the signs of imminent danger, Bambi’s heart thrummed in her chest.

Albino, she thought. The white bear couldn’t be a polar bear, it had to be albino! But didn’t albino animals have red eyes? And no pigmentation in the rest of their body? She swallowed as her eyes dropped from the creature’s dark eyes to its black nose.

The cock of Duke’s rifle snagged Bambi’s attention back toward him. Finally, a growl burbled up from the bear and she heard it shift, could feel it rising up on its hind feet. Apprehension prickled over her body, finding Duke lining up a shot through the scope, lip curling as he snarled, “You need to back away from that damn thing! Don’t you got any sense?!”

A sudden surge of protectiveness overcame Bambi as she took a step closer to the armed man. “Duke Walker, put down the damned rifle! It wasn’t doing a thing before you started threatening it.”

“Don’t you Duke Walker me! It’s a—“

Before Duke could finish his retort, the huge bear crested the distance faster than Bambi would have guessed. Stunned, she couldn’t even shriek as the bear descended on Duke, huge paw arcing down to swipe at the rifle. She only heard the man give a startled cry before a loud, piercing gunshot rang out. With a clatter, the rifle went flying and Duke stumbled back, bloody gouge marks trickling down his arm and chest. Another growl warbled from the bear as it stood up straighter.

As Duke turned tail and sprinted back the way he came, the bear didn’t pursue. It merely stood, as if watching the man disappear into the woods.

And suddenly, Bambi realized she was alone with the hulking beast. As quick and quiet as she could, she began sidling away from the creature, mentally trying to determine which direction she should run to avoid Duke. However, the bear shifted toward her and she realized, with a start, that red blossomed along its fur.

Duke had shot it.

With a  groan, the bear lowered down to all four, its torso seemingly heaving.

Sense and compassion held Bambi locked in place, part of her wanting to check on the creature while the logical side of her told her to bolt. Besides the fact it could be a polar bear – there’s no fucking way it’s actually a polar bear, Bambi’s logical side snarked – it was injured, meaning it had both a hankering for human and was likely scared while in pain.

Before Bambi could decide what to do, a smaller figure crashed through the tangle of forest. “Dad! Dad! What’s goin’ on? Did you hear that gunshot?”

The little figure paused, eyes widening and voice softening with worry, “What happened to you?”

With a jolt, Bambi realized she recognized the voice. Squinting, she took a step closer. “Mercy? Mercy Clements?”

Startled, the girl turned toward Bambi as she hovered near the bear. The light of the moon caught her wide hazel eyes, casting them with a silver sheen. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

Wait, she’d said ‘dad’ thought Bambi. And then she had ran toward the bear, asking the creature what happened. Bambi’s gaze flicked from the bear to the girl and back to the bear, a perplexing suspicion taking root. There was no way to confuse a behemoth like that for a human, even in the dark.

“Zeke?” Bambi narrowed her eyes, focusing on the bear. There was no way the bear was Zeke Clements. There was no way the bear was anything other than a bear!

Something in the bear’s demeanor flinched – or so Bambi thought – and her denial wavered.

[what-the-flux]

At long last, I can post the finished art! I had been sitting on it for some weeks, waiting for the inspiration to hit to write a short piece to accompany it. Definitely recommend full viewing.

oOo ----------------------------------------------------- oOo

Glittering motes of dust hung suspended in waning late afternoon light shining through the skylights. The upper levels of the City-Beneath-The-Cube were lighter and airier than outsiders realized, but the walls, planters and walkways of planed and etched stone that went down many stories made the whole of the place feel like some kind of precision-wrought canyon dotted with workshops, passages and arcades where the locals and laborers bustled.

(continued under the cut)

Lorr still knew this place well, despite the many years separating his former life and younger self from his current one. It hadn’t changed much, the smells and the noise were the same but he noted that there were new, more effective safety railings in the Public Commons and that the local favorite dive, Pi’s had updated their signage (finally).

The bounty hunter rubbed a hand across his face, closing his eyes momentarily as he let his ears take over, picking up all the sounds surrounding him. He would need to move further away from the Commons to better filter the urban background static. Lorr had just sent out his hawk Deputy to scope out the area in case they got lucky and found their mark momentarily out in the open. Both he and Deputy were already familiar with her, so that wouldn’t be difficult. Problem was, it also meant she’d immediately recognize the hawk for who he was and what it meant as well. A part of Lorr secretly hoped she’d get tipped off early.

Why did I agree to this? It wasn’t the money, not this time. Am I trying to make a point? She nearly got us killed and then ran for it. But I know her. Knew her. I can’t just erase all this history just because of one incident, one indiscretion can I? Maybe this is how I have to get through to her.

He sighed inwardly and braced against his spear as he rose from a crouch, the movement preternaturally smooth and deliberate, like a predatory animal. He looked down from his high vantage as he faced the section of the Undercube that was known to the denizens as the Plexus. It was a network of tunnels, access ‘ports, antechambers, quarries and dwellings that confounded natural senses of direction. Less public-facing, much more closed in and easier to hide. Or lose a pursuer.

The slim asura made his way down the ledge he was using to survey, walking along a catwalk only just wide enough to admit a mid-sized labor golem at most. His ears twitched and he sniffed, feeling the minute air currents of a service tunnel cleverly tucked behind a cleft in the worked stone. Still not certain this was were his mark had proceeded but knowing it would get him into the center of the Plexus quicker, he decided to go for it anyway. Forced to stow his spear in such close quarters, he kept a hand on his dagger as he stalked forward into the passage, the inside only dimly lit by a track of dim yellow quartz-lights along the floor.

Infrared imaging on his monocle made it easy for him to get an idea of the topography of the inner workings of the maze of service tunnels he found himself in, but he was careful to not rely on it solely. He stopped every so often, using his eyes and ears but also a generous amount of intuition to pick the correct course. Chambers became somewhat larger and more spacious as he passed golem foundries, making his way steadily downward. He was becoming more aware that he knew where he was going, it was like retracing steps from his childhood back to the colorful yet rundown living warrens and slums that he grew up in.

She wouldn’t go all the way back there, would she? Lorr was starting to think it wasn’t just him that was trying to make some kind of point.

The smells and noise were subtly changing and it wasn’t long before he found himself in the center of the Plexus. Part bazaar, part manufactory, it acted as the working class nerve center and was a riot of activity, industrial clamor and smells.

He was certain of where he was going now. He didn’t know why exactly she came all the way down here where they had all met in the early days before the nonsense with the Whispers and fighting dragons happened, but he was determined to find where this chase ended. He’d get answers, and if it meant having to fail his mission and come back to his current boss empty handed, then so be it.

[shithowdy]

I am tapping on your window demanding to know what you are putting that poor old man through this time (also your ask link still goes to owlpellet!)

OH HELL thank you for letting me know, my whole link sidebar is borked lmao

Oliver is having a bad time okay, I'm allergic to letting him have a good time for too long.

The very truncated version of his predicament is that two guys, one very injured with a head wound (Dallas) and the other a young psyker freshly escaped from A Facility and found by the former (Emil), broke into his home to get away from some Legionary pursuers. Because fucking with the Legion is a top 5 priority in his life, he agreed to escort them (not for free, of course) further toward the coast to a Followers base that he's familiar with for medical care.

They bonded pretty well, and the pair were upset when he left them behind-- Emil in particular, not yet realizing they have a way deeper connection than either of them know but regardless sensing that they shouldn't split up. He was right to feel that way for multiple reasons, because upon returning to his home, a Legion assassin ambushed Oliver after he'd gotten himself good and drunk. He awoke in Fort Blythe to his captor demanding Dallas' location-- Dallas, it turned out, was the long-since escaped son of a very high-ranking officer and he wants his embarrassment taken care of. Oliver was uncooperative, because he'd rather protect a stranger than help a bunch of Known Assholes.

The assassin, Frumentarius Lupus, made the mistake of sharing a bit of his own backstory as he tried to make Oliver talk. Oliver latched the fuck onto the fact that the Legion had obliterated his tribe and erased his identity and successfully radicalized him back into being "Vasco", his childhood name. At a crossroads, he decided he would help Oliver escape the very situation he put him in, but his Centurion superior caught whiff of it and as of right now in the RP, Oliver is being left to go feral in a cage to be used as an arena beast with his only "companion" and source of food the severed arm of Vasco, who he believes to be dead.

Eventually, Dallas and Emil are going to be sent back to find him at the request and hire of one of the doctors, a dear friend and the only person Oliver trusts. They'll find his home burned and his horse wandering loose, and so will begin the event that sees them become permanent companions after Emil manages to bring him back from mindlessness. Then and only then will my poor old man catch a (physical) break. Vasco's life is only going to get worse.

[19joo]

It took me a while (like, years haha) before gathering the courage to post this. I've been writing but I don't usually post them publicly. If anyone here has read til the end, please let me know how I did. >_<

Our Last Night

[MCxJake]

"Do you really have to go?", I asked Jake as he is preparing to leave our hideout and run from his pursuers.

He sat in the bed beside me, leaned in closer, and took my hands. "It's gonna be alright. I'll come back as soon as I can. Once we get this over and done with, I'm never leaving your side again. I promise." He gave me the most reassuring look he could. I can only do nothing else but sigh. I know him too well now to see the uncertainty he's trying to mask from his eyes.

We both knew at this point that a desirable outcome is far-fetched. Nevertheless, I chose to hold on. I needed to. Otherwise, I won't have any other reason to keep going.

It's not that I didn't see it coming. I just hope things had never gone to this. Now that Hannah is safe and sound, all that's left is Jake's freedom.

After the Duskwood ordeal, Jake told me everything I needed to know about him. Apparently, we live in the same country, which is currently being ruled by the most corrupt set of government officials. It all began with Jake discovering a sketchy deal between a certain governmemt official and a foreign pharmaceutical company, which turned out to be our country's president. One discovery led to another, and now their organization has obtained a concrete proof that this heck of a useless corrupt "leader" has manipulated the election results.

It was all going so well. Jake's discoveries has been made known to the public. People were enraged, and started demanding justice. However, this government is a difficult group to get involved with.

We are now fighting for our freedom, and we have never been this close. We worked so hard for this. I am willing to do anything, but losing Jake is just a price I just couldn't afford to pay.

Before meeting everyone, I was merely existing. I've been going through the motions for as long as I can remember. I waited everyday for my life to end, because I couldn't end it myself. My body felt like an empty shell moving on its own.

I remember just blankly staring at my bedroom ceiling, contemplating between getting out of bed or going back to sleep again. I reached to my phone and scrolled at the piling messages I haven't replied to in weeks when I received that text message from Thomas. I don't know what got to me, but the urge to reply at his message was strong. When I saw how desperate they were on trying to find Hannah, I decided to sign myself up. Better do something worthwhile for once in my life, I thought.

As we went further, I noticed things gradually changing. I couldn't point out exactly when, but days eventually stopped being as monotonous as they used to. For the first time in ages, I had something to look forward to. The hollow void inside me began to be filled up with a sense of purpose, most of which I can attribute to this hacker who, for some reason, I began trusting with my entire being despite not being able to know a lot about. I don't know how he did it. He is so enigmatic, yet familiar. Despite everything, I never really felt the need to know everything about him. That must have been me going crazy — but I didn't care. When it came to him, things need not to make sense as long as they felt right. I never connected with anyone else the way I did with him.

The day he went into hiding from his pursuers was the day I fully realized can't live again without him in my life. Right then and there, I was finally able to genuinely want something for myself. We could have stopped upon finding Hannah, but I want him to be something more than a stranger I met in the pursuit of trying to save another. I want to be by his side. At the back of my mind, I knew this madness would likely be the death of me, but I'd happily accept my fate if it meant I could be with him.

Damn it. I feel so powerless.

"Maybe this wouldn't have happened had I not been too greedy. Maybe this is me being punished for trying to get what I can't have." I sobbed. "It's not too late, Jake. We can still back out now." I pleaded.

"Don't be hard on yourself. I chose this. It's my fault you got into this mess. I know I might regret this, but I won't ever forgive myself for not even trying to fight for you — for us." His pleading eyes met mine as he pulled me into a tight hug. "Trust me, please?"

He kissed my hand. "Our time is running out. I have to go."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[olberic]

HOWWWWW DID THEY MAKE ANDERS AND FENRIS SUCH PERFECT NARRATIVE FOILS AND NEVER FUCKING EXPLORE IT IN TEXT. IM SO FUCKING SERIOUS like

the classic foil “character arcs mirror each other in reverse” thing. anders starts (in awakening) as concerned only for freedom, ends up retreating into himself, and ends da2 full of rage and desire to strike back at the system that wronged him. fenris starting the game furious and scared and alone, slowly growing into a more open person as he takes down his pursuers, and ending the game in a much happier, safer space

both of them with identities built around what was done to them rather than their own, just for anders thats at the end of his story while fenris starts his whole known memory like it

anders’ close friendships dissolve as he loses trust in himself, fenris gains friends as he finds out who he is outside danarius

fenris’ glowy powers are from something done to him, anders’ glowy powers are from something he chose. both still given under life and death situations

anders having to kill the person he loved despite everything keeping them apart, fenris getting to kill the person who’d given him no choice in — yet still abused! — his given loyalty

even the fact that anders had slept with isabela before even awakening, while if left unromanced then fenris and isabela will get together

both of them are outspoken about fighting oppression in the ways they’ve experienced personally, and value freedom above all else (a trait they share with isabela, which is a nice touch)

previous failed escape attempts for both of them lead to punishments by their oppressors that completely changed who they are (fenris with being made to kill the fog warriors, anders with his year of solitary)

both engage in self-destructive habits when they feel powerless to stop the systemic problems (fenris drinking, anders working himself to the bone)

but anders always seeing suicide as a way out while fenris would never ever consider it

hell both of them can also be completely betrayed by a formerly ally hawke in act iii

and for all they argue, if they could be talked into sitting down and TALKING then theyd realize theyre on the same page, just blinded by their personal histories

im not even making any new points here yknow. and like yeah they share some traits with everyone else in the party (being in kirkwall through necessity, the idea of making personal choices over letting someone else dictate them, general frustration with how the system treats them, being discriminated against for being parts of minority groups, being bi and potentially down bad for hawke, etc) but theres just so many specific ones that are just for them. and ik i play the game from a “everythings filtered through varric filtered through cassandra’s perceptions” standpoint, but still for the absolute lack of effort to make anything of it its frustrating. theres no good doylist explanation of why it wasnt explored beyond “they hate each other bc mage controversy” and even pushing for the watsonian options of “varric never got into the topic” or “they never interacted outside hawke quests ever over 3 years” is fucking flimsy at best. this post doesnt have a concluding point

[inukag-archive]

Hi inuarchive!! do you any stories, where kagome is the badass pirate and Inuyasha a stowaway or prisoner???

Hi anon, thank you for the ask! This was a toughie because, as you probably have already discovered, most InuKag pirate AUs have Inuyasha in the role of the feared pirate and Kagome as the noblewoman who gets kidnapped.

That being said, we did find two stories that fit your request exactly! They are at the top of the list below, and we included other types of InuKag pirate fics after a divider.

Happy reading!

(Gif by fic-finder @lostinfantasyworlds )

[Pirate Kagome, Captured Inuyasha]

The Captain and the Hanyo by @goshinote (T)

In a world in which youkai have been forced into hiding after the Great War, Captain Higurashi is known as one of the cruelest youkai-hunting pirates. After Captain Higurashi kidnaps Inuyasha, a prized hanyo, a plan is set in motion. Inuyasha will find out Captain Higurashi is nothing like the stories say, and he will discover that nothing is truly as it seems...

--

The Hanyo's Parlay by @fawn-eyed-girl, @neutronstarchild, & @ruddcatha (M)

Inuyasha ends up seeking refuge on a boat before collapsing, having challenged and killed two demons who were harassing a hanyō. When he wakes up, he realizes the ship has left port, indeed, the boat is moving, and he’s tied up, on his way to the Black Shikon, an infamous pirate ship. When he arrives, Inuyasha believes he is destined to walk the plank. When the Arrow of the Black Shikon invites him to parlay, Inuyasha finds he is in for a lot more adventure than he ever bargained for.

--

[Kagome & Inuyasha Both Pirates]

Shards of the Sea by @starlingchildgazingatthestars (M)

She is wild, she is on the loose, she is nigh uncatchable. But when the pirate captain Inuyasha is given the chance to be pardoned in exchange for her capture, will he take the chance of a peaceful life or will he follow her to the ends of the earth, never quite reaching her? A story told in snippets and drabbles.

--

[Pirate Inuyasha, Noblewoman Kagome]

Shikuro: A Caribbean Fairy Tale by Inuma Asahi De (M)

Inuyasha was as bad as pirates came, according to his legend. Kagome was a woman of propriety, destined to marry for her family's honor when all she wanted was to live on the sea. What happens when their eyes meet by chance or perhaps by daring fate?

--

Heart of the Sea by Eowyn Organa (T)

The girl who is awaiting her destiny, and the pirate who is running from his past. A mysterious jewel, a terrifying pursuer, and a long lost friend will bring them together on an adventure upon the waves...

--

Kagome and the Pirate Captain, The Silver Hanyou by Chocolatechick101 (T)

Kagome is diplomat's daughter kidnapped by the most dangerous pirate captain of the 7 seas to secure a deal. But they didn't know they were about to embark on a great adventure together! 

--

Song of the Sea by DeletedAccountNotChangingMind (T)

In the days where Singers are hunted like dogs, one hid in the crowd hoping never to be caught. But all that changed when she is captured by the fierce pirate Silver. Now she must protect her life and even her heart from the theiving pirate.

--

Pirates and Princesses Inukag OneShot by @heynikkiyousofine (T)

Kagome was never to marry and settle, but as the kingdom's princess, it was her life. When she meets a thieving pirate, will her whole life change?

--

Kagome and The Silver Hanyou by xxxshikonxxx (T)

Kagome Higurashi finds herself captured on her 16th anniversary by The Silver Hanyou, the most worst natured pirate on the 7 seas. What will happen after?

--

Seadogs by jellophish (M)

When Lady Kagome is stolen away by pirates, will one of the most feared pirate captains of the 7 Seas hurt her? Or possibly need her help to keep a certain jewel safe? As they travel the seas, romance blooms, but what is the price?

[mystwrites]

OMGGGGGG!!!! EVERYONE CHECK THIS FIC OUT!!! 😆😆😆😆😆

THANK YOU @nutzgunray-lvt FOR THE SUBMISSION!!!! 🩷🩷YOU SHOULD POST FICS ON YOUR BLOG!! YOU ARE REALLY GOOD AT WRITING!!!

Here it is! I hope you like it!

Tanjiro was running.

He quickly rounded a corner, trying in vain to bite back the laughter threatening to spill over as he resisted the urge to peek back at his pursuer. He knew he was close behind him - he was a Hashira, after all - and he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the squeal that escaped his lips.

Not that Mr. Uzui wouldn't have heard that. He had an extraordinary sense of hearing, after all.

Tanjiro should have known that something was up during training that day. He should have seen it in the smug expression the ex-shinobi gave him as he completed his sword swings. He should have known that his time was up when the older man not-so-casually brought up tales of revenge as the burgundy haired boy put the training dummy in its place. In hindsight, he really should have gotten the message when Mr. Uzui talked about how little babies needed to be taught lessons more than once about how the world worked, but he had been dragging himself to the bath so he let it go in one ear and out the other.

Mr. Uzui's always been weird, so this isn't nothing new, his tired mind had rationalized it away at the time.

It wasn't until Tanjiro was greeted from his bath with an evil smile and wiggling fingers that his mind placed the pieces together, and through his pleading laughter as the man approached him, he realized what this had to have been about.

A couple of weeks prior, Tanjiro had been caught in his horribly ticklish grasp for a reason he couldn't even remember at the time (then again, Mr. Uzui once told him that he didn't need a reason to tickle him. As the God of Flashiness and Festivals, his logic was incomprehensible to mere mortals like Tanjiro). All he could remember was a thumb drilling into the soft spot under his arms as his arms were held above his head. In the midst of the goofy mush his brain had always become when being tickled, only one thought came to mind: ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!

He did just that.

With a loud screech, he landed an impressive kick to the older man's shin, causing him to grunt in surprise as his grip on Tanjiro loosened. Him stomping down on his foot as he ran away wasn't planned, but it worked all the same. As he made it far away from his tormenter's reach and caught his breath once more, it dawned on him what he had done. He let out a low whimper and covered his face.

Tanjiro Kamado was a dead man.

Mr. Uzui always took him fighting back in stride, seeming incredibly amused by the display as he could always just immobilize him with ease. However, this was the first time he ever landed a direct blow on him that led to him escaping, and he knew the man wouldn't take that lying down.

"Perhaps he'll take it as a message to not attack you so brutally next time," Lady Shinobu offered with a serene smile. "You may have scared him off this time!"

"There's no mercy for the brash, Tanjiro," Muichiro said, seeming to be genuinely warning the boy. "But maybe he forgot… did I forget, too?"

"If he remembered, you'd be dead by now," Genya bluntly said. "He would have killed you."

The word of two of the Hashira had been reassuring at the time, as had that of his three friends, who either didn't want to hear any of it or who promised to become God of the Mountains. Nezuko's earnest nod was the final seal in the coffin, and Tanjiro took that as a sign to head on his merry way.

Until today.

Never abandon your kindness, but always stay on guard, his father's voice rang through his head.

If only he had not forgotten those words.

Now, he was most likely going to die here in the Demon Slayer Headquarters, because it was evident that Mr. Uzui had not forgotten about the foot stomping incident like he had been led to believe.

Why do I have to be so trusting in everyone?! He asked himself as he tried rounding another corner, only to bump into something warm and solid. He screamed and squeezed his eyes shut, thinking that the Sound Hashira had managed to cut him off, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it was Mr. Rengoku.

He was saved!

"Why the rush, Young Kamado?" the Flame Hashira asked cheerfully, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly. "You just completed your training for the day! Haven't I told you that a watched pot never boils?"

"Mr… Mr. Rengoku…!" Tanjiro panted, trying to catch his breath. "Help! I-I stepped on Mr. Uzui's foot two weeks ago on accident… I think he's going to kill me! Please! Help!"

Mr. Rengoku closed his eyes and appeared to be deep in thought, oblivious to how Tanjiro immediately jumped to hide behind him. He didn't know if Mr. Uzui was still hot on his trail or not, but if he used the Flame Hashira's height as a barrier, then he wouldn't find out.

"Mr. Rengoku! If he catches me, I'll be dead! Please, you've got to help!" he frantically whispered, gripping onto the man's haori. "Please."

Mr. Rengoku shifted, spinning to face his Tsuguko with an all too familiar smile… a smile that he himself had before tickling the lives out of his younger siblings. Tanjiro felt his face pale, and before he could start backing away and begging for his life, he was completely immobilized.

"Tengen! The elusive foot stomper has been successfully apprehended!" he announced, holding Tanjiro in the air, his fingers set over his ribs in a clear warning that already had the boy in stitches. "We're over here!"

"I must say, that was a flashy trick you used to get him off his guard, Rengoku," Mr. Uzui said as he rounded the same corner Tanjiro had crossed not long ago (had he been hiding there the whole time?). His arms were crossed over his chest as he sauntered over to the pair, grinning wickedly as Tanjiro tried and failed to muffle his apprehensive giggling.

"I see your little Tsuguko feels no remorse for his actions," he observed offhandedly, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers at the boy. "Such shamelessness is the height of unflashiness, wouldn't you say?"

Mr. Rengoku gravely nodded, ever so slightly digging his fingers into Tanjiro's ribs, making him squeal and slap his hands over his mouth.

"I'm afraid I must agree with you, my friend," the Flame Hashira said with mock disappointment. "I've tried teaching him the importance of respecting all of the Hashira… but for him to perform such a brazen act… we must rectify this at once."

He dug in again, and Tanjiro let out a low whine as his giggles slowly turned to laughter. Biting on his lip, he shook his head. Mr. Uzui was so close now, he was going to get him along with Mr. Rengoku, and it was going to be so bad, so bad, so bad -

"M-Mr. Uzuhuhuhui! Dohohon't!" he pleaded through muffled hands.

The look on the Sound Hashira's face was so patronizing that it made Tanjiro's cheeks flush in embarrassment, and his growl turned into a surprised yelp as Mr. Rengoku easily spread his arms out and held them away from him, leaving his entire torso and underarms completely vulnerable.

"Don't what?" Mr. Uzui asked excitedly.

It was a trap. It had to be a trap. Don't fall for it -

"T-Tickle mehehehe!"

Both men burst out laughing, and Tanjiro groaned. He couldn't believe he fell for that… again. No matter how many times this happened to him, they always baited him and he always took it.

"Why of course we'll tickle you, Young Kamado, don't you worry!" Mr. Rengoku reassured him. "Why else do you think we're here with you?"

He didn't know if it was a rhetorical question or not, so he opened his mouth to answer… only for Mr. Uzui to immediately start digging into his ribs. Tanjiro let out a shriek and burst into loud laughter as tried kicking and squirming his way out of Mr. Rengoku's grip.

"Mr. Rengohohohoku!" he whined. "I-I meheheant me! H-Help mehehehe!"

Mr. Rengoku laughed warmly.

"You should have been more specific!" he countered. "Besides, Tengen here is one of my dearest friends! It wouldn't be nice of me to let the elusive foot stomper who brutally attacked him go free, would it?"

Oh no.

It was starting.

He could already feel his brain turning into mush, his muscles weakening under the teasing. It was just words! Why did they affect him just as badly as the tickling?! He'd always playfully made fun of his siblings for falling apart like this when they were in his position, so he should have already known better!

"B-But Mr. Uzuhuhuhui w-wahahas the one tickling mehehehe!" Tanjiro whined, jolting as the man in question pinched at his lower ribs. "W-Whahahat was I s-supposed to dohohoho?"

Mr. Uzui shook his head and tsked.

"We use our nice words to talk to people, Tanjiro," he said as though he were talking to a five year old rather than a fifteen year old. "We don't kick them or stomp on their feet. That makes people sad."

Tanjiro growled, something that didn't quite have the effect he wanted to due to how much harder he had started laughing. He couldn't believe that he, a fifteen year old who had killed countless demons, became such a mess from being talked to like a baby while being tickled.

It was mortifying.

He would have came back with some not so nice words had he not been giggling so much from Mr. Uzui spidering his fingers up and down his sides. He wasn't even digging in or squeezing, so how was it affecting him this badly?!

"Awww, poor little baby can't handle some light tickling on his sides?" the Sound Hashira cooed over Tanjiro's laughter. "He can help kill an upper rank demon, but he can't escape a little bit of tickling? What has the Demon Slayer Corp come to?"

"Sh-Shuhuhut up!" he weakly objected, trying to aim a kick at his stomach. The older man laughed at the feeble attempt before looking over to Mr. Rengoku.

"Get him on the ground for me," he said. "It'll be easier to keep him from fighting back."

"Good idea!"

A change in position was coming, and Tanjiro naievely believed that if he timed it just right, he'd be able to get free. But as sure as the sky was blue, he blinked, and he was flat on his back. He pouted up at Mr. Rengoku, who grinned happily (if not evily) down at him as he took his wrists in one hand.

"We can't have you fight back too much, Young Kamado!" he explained as the boy gasped for air. "You might run away on us!"

"That or you might kick me again, won't you?" Mr. Uzui asked as he straddled Tanjiro's waist.

"Wh-What's wrong?" the burgundy haired boy asked through his gasps for air. "The God of Flashiness and Festivals can't handle a little kick to the shin?"

Mr. Rengoku laughed heartily at the remark, and even Mr. Uzui looked amused as he cracked his knuckles.

"That was a flashy comeback, kid. I'll give that to you," he praised. "But you forget that I'm a Hashira, which means that in every way, I'm. Better. Than. You."

He punctuated the last four words with pokes to his ribs. Immediately, Tanjiro glared at him and gritted his teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of laughing. Mr. Uzui looked up at Mr. Rengoku, waggling his eyebrows.

"What's this?" he asked. "Your Tsuguko doesn't want to laugh for us anymore, Rengoku!"

The Flame Hashira's smile matched Mr. Uzui's too much for Tanjiro's liking, and he began shaking his head as his superior said, "Well that won't do, will it?"

Giving his hair a quick ruffle, he immediately went to work with itching a single finger on Tanjiro's underarm, causing the boy to let out a small squeal and a wobbly smile to appear on his face. He bit down on his lip, shaking his head as he tried to think about anything, anything other than that awful finger -

"Why are you shaking your head, Young Kamado?" Mr. Rengoku conversationally asked, adding a second finger to the torture. "Is something the matter? You're smiling so widely just from me scratching under your arm! Could it be that you're ticklish here?"

Rapidly breathing in and out through his gritted teeth, he nodded on reflex (he could never lie). Mr. Rengoku gasped in pretend shock, causing a few giggles to almost escape Tanjiro.

Almost.

"I see! Well, this is certainly a shocking development!" The Flame Hashira exclaimed, moving to gently pinch his uppermost rib, laughing when his Tsuguko let out a shrill, strangled shriek, squeezing his eyes shut as he began fighting even more than before. It was getting harder and harder to hold his laughter back. That was a particularly bad spot of his, and he knew that if he stayed there any longer, he'd crack.

"Tengen! I've made a fascinating discovery about my Tsuguko here!" he announced in an overly serious tone of voice.

No, please don't play 'doctor'! Tanjiro pleaded to himself. You know I can't keep a straight face when you do! I hate playing 'doctor'!

"It appears that if I pinch right… here," he did just that, making Tanjiro let out a barely muffled whine as more and more giggles started trying to escape. "He appears to find it hilarious. However, he's trying to hide his laughter for whatever reason. What do you think about this?"

He heard Mr. Uzui sigh with pretend annoyance, and could feel the tall man looming over him as he said, "Hmmm… looks like we're going too soft on him. It's understandable, since he is just a little baby, after all. We need to try out another spot to confirm your findings. Fortunately for all of us, I know how to make him crack… in a flashy way, of course."

Oh no.

"Oh Tanjiro!" he cooed in a sing-song voice, his hand resting on his stomach in a claw formation. "I know a certain little baby who loves having his tummy tickled!"

No, no, no, no, no! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm fifteen, not five! Fifteen not five! Fifteen -

"Kitchie kitchie koo!" he sang, clawing his fingers into his stomach.

It tickles! It tickles it tickles -

The weird growl/whine combination Tanjiro let out made both men laugh themselves, and within seconds, his own repressed belly laughter had joined the mix. He tried to curl in on himself to protect his torso, but the weight on his thighs prevented him from doing so.

"There's the flashy reaction we were hoping for!" Mr. Uzui cheered, digging into Tanjiro's lower stomach and similarly relishing in the shrieking laughter the action produced. "Getting his belly never fails to work, does it?"

"It is one of his worst spots!" Mr. Rengoku commented as he tweaked one of Tanjiro's lower ribs, talking about him as if he wasn't present. "Though given how ticklish he is, you could say that about anywhere, can't you?"

"That is true. He's one of the most ticklish slayers I've ever met!"

"I-I'm rihihihight hehehehere!" Tanjiro tried snapping through his laughter. His abdomen ached horribly, and he could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes from how hard he was laughing. He was reaching his limit, and he was sure that he would lose his voice if they kept at it any longer.

Mr. Rengoku beamed down at him, switching to spider his fingers gently along his neck, causing the burgundy haired boy to start kicking his feet out and shake his head in an effort to shake him off.

"You sure are, Young Kamado! Aren't you having so much fun?"

Honestly, Tanjiro was having fun. He was having the time of his life. Sure he'd whine and put up a fight, but having these moments where he could set his worries aside in favor of laughing and screaming his head off was something he'd quickly grown to crave. He'd almost always been in their position growing up, and it made the tables being turned on him all the more exciting.

Even if Mr. Uzui's baby talk made him want to crawl in a hole and die from embarrassment.

"Awww, were you sad no one was giving you any attention?" Mr. Uzui asked as if he knew that Tanjiro was thinking about him. "Don't worry! I know how to cheer you up!"

Abandoning his stomach, the Sound Hashira scooted down to Tanjiro's calves. Almost immediately, he began kicking his feet in earnest, whining in frustration at how they barely budged.

"Nononono! Mr. Uzuhuhuhui plehehehease! Plehehehease nohohoho - hic!" he desperately begged as he felt his left zōri being removed. "I'm -"

"Oh, I know how ticklish you feet are," Mr. Uzui said smugly. "And since it was my left foot that you stomped on, I think it's only fair that I get some revenge on you in a similar manner, wouldn't you say?"

In a combination of resignation and desperation, Tanjiro tried to threaten to stomp his right foot instead. All that got him was an evil smirk and five evil fingers attacking his defenseless foot.

Despite his tabi defending him from the worst of the tickling (unlike other times), he was reduced to howling, screaming laughter. Mr. Uzui was merciless, scratching his painted nails into his sole and arch, and when Tanjiro tried to scrunch his toes up to protect them, he was chastised for 'trying to get in the way of a Hashira's revenge,' and held his toes back to get at the incredibly sensitive spot underneath.

By the time he finished his revenge with a game of 'Little Piggy' (as it did every time Mr. Uzui tickled his feet), Tanjiro's laughter had gone mostly silent. Tears ran down his beet red face, and when the two Hasira finally finally stopped and released him, he immediately curled in on himself and gasped for air in the midst of his residual hiccupping and giggling. Both Mr. Rengoku and Mr. Uzui chuckled at the state they reduced him to, but their smiles were kind as they ruffled his hair and helped him sit up.

"Alright, alright, up you go," the Sound Hashira coaxed, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. "Deep breaths, kid. Take deep breaths."

As the burgundy haired boy obeyed, he felt the Flame Hashira brace him into a sitting position. Though still more than a little amused by his Tsuguko's torment, his eyes practically screamed, 'are you okay,' as he helped him get his bearings back.

"As fun as this wound up being, I need to get some training done," Mr. Uzui announced, giving Tanjiro's hair one last ruffle before getting up. "You behave yourself, kid, or else I won't be as nice next time."

Tanjiro smiled at the familiar threat, and as he watched the ex shinobi walk away, he let himself be helped to his feet by Mr. Rengoku.

"Well, Young Kamado! All of that fun has worked up quite an appetite in me!" he commented, smiling down at him. "Why don't we eat some lunch at the restaurant nearby? It'll help you to regain your energy."

Tanjiro smiled back at him and nodded. This was another part of the routine, and he looked forward to it just as much as he did the tickling itself.

All of it was great.

"Of course!"

[blackhardtt]

AU. SON OF THE SEA

!! Parent death tw. / slavery tw. !! Roderick was born to a peasant woman in a small coastal village, a place where the sea's salty embrace was a daily companion and the wind carried tales of distant lands. His mother, Eveline, was a kind-hearted and resilient woman, known for her gentle touch and unwavering spirit. She worked tirelessly, mending nets and gathering shellfish to provide for her only son. Her beauty and grace did not go unnoticed by the gods, and during one of his rare visits to the mortal realm, Poseidon, god of the sea, became enchanted by her. Their union was brief but intense, a divine moment that brought Roderick into existence. Despite his celestial heritage, his early years were marked by struggle. The villagers, unaware of Roderick's divine parentage, whispered about the boy with the deep blue eyes that seemed to hold the ocean's depths. They saw him as a blessing to his mother, though life in the village was anything but easy. One fateful night, the tranquility of their village was shattered by a brutal raid. Marauders, seeking riches and slaves, descended upon the coastal settlement with merciless fury. Eveline, in a desperate attempt to protect her son, hid Roderick beneath the floorboards of their modest home. She fought fiercely, her love for her son fueling her defiance, but she was ultimately overpowered. Roderick, only seven years old, watched in silent horror through the cracks as his mother was struck down, her life extinguished before his eyes. The raiders found Roderick shortly after. He was dragged from his hiding place, kicking and screaming, his small fists useless against the hardened warriors. Bound and chained, he was sold into slavery, his mother's lifeless body left behind, a haunting memory that would scar his heart forever. For years, Roderick endured the brutality of slavery. His tasks were grueling, his masters cruel. He was beaten for the smallest mistakes, starved when he couldn't meet the impossible demands. Yet, through it all, his spirit remained unbroken. He clung to the memories of his mother's love and the stories she told him about the sea and the gods who dwelled within its depths. It was during a particularly harsh winter that Roderick decided to escape. The decision was born out of desperation and a burning desire for freedom. One stormy night, under the cover of darkness, he slipped away from his captors. They pursued him relentlessly, cornering him on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the tumultuous ocean below. With nowhere to run and the sea crashing violently against the rocks, Roderick felt a profound sense of despair. He was just a boy, but the years of suffering had forged a resilience within him. As his captors closed in, something deep within him stirred. The wind howled around him, and the waves seemed to reach out, beckoning. Roderick leaped from the cliff in sheer desperation, surrendering himself to the sea's embrace. Instead of the cold, crushing depths he expected, he felt a warm, powerful surge. The waves rose up, cradling him gently and lifting him above the water. It was as if the ocean itself recognized him, acknowledging his lineage. For the first time, Roderick felt an undeniable connection to his divine father, Poseidon. The realization of his heritage was both a revelation and a burden. He was no longer just a slave boy but the son of a god with powers he had yet to understand. The sea had claimed him, offering him not only escape but a new beginning. As the waves carried him away from his pursuers, Roderick vowed to honor his mother's memory and harness the gifts bestowed upon him to forge his own destiny, one that would be written in the annals of both mortals and gods.

Appearance:

Roderick retains his tall, imposing figure (7'5"), but the trials of his early life are etched into his features. His eyes, a stormy sea green (his father's eyes.), reflect the depth of his sorrow and determination. His black hair, shimmering with the reflection of ocean waves, often falls into his eyes, obscuring the intensity of his gaze. Though hardened by years of labor, his skin glows faintly when he uses his powers, a subtle reminder of his divine origin.

Powers:

Electrokinesis: Roderick can summon and control lightning, a gift inherited from his father’s control over storms.

Hydrokinesis: His ability to manipulate water has been enhanced, allowing him to summon massive waves, create water constructs, and even breathe underwater indefinitely.

Weather Manipulation: Roderick can influence and control weather patterns, creating storms, calming seas, and summoning rain at will.

Wind Manipulation: He can control and manipulate the wind, enhancing his speed, creating barriers, and even flying short distances.

Tidal Control: His command over tides is now near absolute, enabling him to create and dissipate tidal waves and control ocean currents with precision.

Earthquake Generation: Inherited from Poseidon's dominion over earthquakes, Roderick can cause tremors and quakes, though he uses this power sparingly due to its destructive potential.

Marine Telepathy: Roderick can communicate with all marine life, understanding their thoughts and feelings. This allows him to call upon sea creatures for assistance and to ensure the protection of marine ecosystems.

Aqua Healing: Roderick can heal injuries and ailments by using water, either by submerging the affected area or by channeling water’s purifying properties. This ability can also be used to heal others, making him a vital ally in battles and crises.

Cryokinesis: He has the ability to manipulate ice, creating ice constructs, freezing water, and forming ice barriers. This power adds a versatile edge to his combat abilities and defensive tactics.

Sonar Sense: Roderick possesses an advanced echolocation ability, similar to that of dolphins and whales. This power allows him to navigate and detect objects or creatures in murky waters or complete darkness, making him nearly impossible to ambush.

Enhanced Strength and Durability: As a demigod, Roderick has superhuman strength and resilience, allowing him to lift massive objects, withstand extreme pressures, and survive attacks that would be fatal to ordinary mortals.

Shape-shifting: Roderick can transform into various sea creatures, gaining their abilities and characteristics. This power provides versatility in combat and exploration, allowing him to blend into different environments or escape dangerous situations.

Storm Surge: A powerful attack that combines his control over water and lightning, creating devastating storms and tidal waves that can decimate fleets and fortifications. This ability is Roderick's ultimate weapon, showcasing the full extent of his divine power.

Oceanic Camouflage: Roderick can blend seamlessly with water, becoming nearly invisible. This power makes him an expert in stealth, able to approach enemies undetected or evade pursuers with ease.

Geokinesis: Expanding his control over earthquakes, Roderick can manipulate the earth and rock, creating fissures, raising barriers, and shaping terrain to his advantage. This power is particularly useful in both combat and creating defensive structures.

Water Vision: Roderick can see through water with perfect clarity, regardless of depth, murkiness, or darkness. This ability allows him to spot dangers, hidden treasures, or pathways in the ocean depths that others would miss.

Weather Divination: He has the ability to predict weather patterns with incredible accuracy, allowing him to foresee storms, calm seas, or changing tides well in advance. This power helps him plan his journeys and protect those under his care from natural disasters.

Hydraulic Blast: Roderick can unleash concentrated blasts of water with immense force, capable of knocking down walls, capsizing ships, or incapacitating foes. This power is both a formidable attack and a versatile tool for manipulation of the environment.

Coral Creation: He can summon and manipulate coral, creating barriers, weapons, or even intricate structures. This power allows him to shape the battlefield or craft beautiful underwater habitats that serve as sanctuaries for marine life.

Personality:

Roderick's playful and teasing nature is tempered by the sorrow of his past. He carries a deep sense of responsibility and a fierce determination to protect the weak and oppressed, inspired by his own suffering. His moral flexibility remains, but it is now guided by a strong sense of justice and empathy. He values personal freedom and independence, and his bond with the sea is both a source of comfort and a reminder of his heritage.

Storyline:

After discovering his divine heritage, Roderick embarks on a journey to master his powers and understand his place in the world. He is driven by the memory of his mother and the desire to honor her by helping those in need. His path is fraught with danger as he faces mythical creatures, ancient sea gods, and other demigods, each challenging him to grow and embrace his destiny.

Roderick's adventures lead him to protect coastal villages from monstrous threats, overthrow corrupt leaders, and mediate conflicts among sea deities. His bond with the ocean deepens, and he becomes a guardian of the seas, earning the respect of both mortals and gods.

Relationships:

Poseidon: Roderick’s relationship with his father is complex. While he respects Poseidon's power and wisdom, he struggles with the expectations placed upon him and the pain of his mother's death. Poseidon sees great potential in Roderick but is wary of his son's rebellious streak. Yet, Roderick is furious at him for not saving him or his mother. He never understands why. If they can't mettle with human lives, how dare he create human life!

Blackjack: The raccoon remains Roderick's loyal companion, now endowed with a longer lifespan and the ability to communicate with Roderick through their bond. Blackjack provides a source of comfort and a reminder of the simpler times in his life.

Other Demigods and Sea Deities: Roderick forms alliances and rivalries with other children of gods, learning from them and sometimes clashing over their differing views on power and responsibility.

Ultimate Goal:

Roderick aims to find a balance between his mortal and divine natures, seeking to honor his mother's legacy while fulfilling his father's expectations. He dreams of a world where the seas are safe and thriving, and he is recognized not just as a powerful demigod but as a protector and champion of the ocean. His journey is one of redemption, healing, and the pursuit of a better future for all who depend on the sea.

[whimsicaldragonette]

ARC Review: Death in the Spires by KJ Charles

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Publication Date: April 11, 2024

Synopsis

The newspapers called us the Seven Wonders. We were a group of friends, that’s all, and then Toby died. Was killed. Murdered. 1905. A decade after the grisly murder of Oxford student Toby Feynsham, the case remains hauntingly unsolved. For Jeremy Kite, the crime not only stole his best friend, it destroyed his whole life. When an anonymous letter lands on his desk, accusing him of having killed Toby, Jem becomes obsessed with finally uncovering the truth. Jem begins to track down the people who were there the night Toby died – a close circle of friends once known as the ‘Seven Wonders’ for their charm and talent – only to find them as tormented and broken as himself. All of them knew and loved Toby at Oxford. Could one of them really be his killer? As Jem grows closer to uncovering what happened that night, his pursuer grows bolder, making increasingly terrifying attempts to silence him for good. Will exposing Toby's killer put to rest the shadows that have darkened Jem’s life for so long? Or will the gruesome truth only put him in more danger? Some secrets are better left buried… From the bestselling, acclaimed author of The Magpie Lord and The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen comes a chilling historical mystery with a sting in the tail. You won’t be able to put this gripping story down!

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes Below the cut.

My Review

This was incredible. I have long loved KJ Charles' books and this one, while a mystery rather than a romance, is no different. I love it just as much. Her romances have long contained mysteries, so this wasn't *that* much of a departure from her usual fare. I found the story, told alternately between past and present, to be completely gripping in both timelines for the entirety of the book. I had no idea who murdered Toby, and like Jem I vacillated between which of the former friends I most suspected up until the end. I like that it didn't end there. I liked that it was a complex issue. I really liked all the themes explored. The friend group was charming and wonderful and terrible and I slowly fell in love with each of them over the course of the novel. I love the way everything wrapped up, and I loved the healing and growth that happened at the end. It was everything I wanted. The setting of Oxford was so tangible and concrete. Despite never having been myself, I felt Jem's ambivalence for the place, the way he loved and hated it, and the way it had such a hold on him. It felt real. For that matter, each of the characters felt real and three-dimensional and present. The writing was stellar as always and it was a joy and a pleasure to read. I will absolutely be reading any and all future mysteries KJ Charles chooses to write, in addition to her romances. *Thanks to NetGalley and Storm Publishing for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes

He wondered as he walked if he would stand at the pillar box hesitating, if he'd walk up and down, plagued by doubt and fear and second thoughts, but in the end, it was too damned cold, so he just dropped the letters in.

---

Ignore any knocking; it will be students, thus unimportant.

---

Jem didn't know anyone else who'd use semicolons in a brief scrawl, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed that sort of thing.

---

He could put on his coat and shoes over his night things to go and ask; he'd look highly eccentric, but this was Oxford.

[courgowr]

Gift gift gift gift ʕ*ﾉᴥﾉʔ for all you Oltyx x Yenekh needs

In the Bone Kingdom of Drazak, Valgûl the Fallen Lord, also known as Oltyx, the Twice-Dead King, ran through narrow roads.

The stone houses that flanked the streets were once barren and empty, now stood beautifully and lovingly decorated with furs, or whole bones, stuck to them with a mixture of boiled blood and crushed cartilage, painted with interesting colors. The closer one got to the main tomb the more meticulously painted, and bigger the bones decorating the houses became.

But right now Oltyx didn’t have time to admire them, for he was currently running as fast as his legs could carry him. He was running for what his internal clock told him to be over two days.

He took two short breaks, to grab something to eat. The necrons whose house he was hiding were more than happy to share a bite with their ruler.

Those moments were short.

In both cases, not even halfway through chewing the second bite, he saw a shadow pass a window, which in turn prompted him to abandon his ad hoc meal and start running again.

He got momentarily distracted by the shadow running on the roofs of the stacked houses above his street, causing him to knock down a stack of curing hides.

‘…sorry…’ he whispered without even turning. Marrokh the apprentice tasked with tightening a few fiber ropes about the stack of wet-salted skins, started to screech sharply for him until he realized who he was scolding.

Oltyx’s vocal box could only whisper nowadays, and that came with some struggle too, but he was fond of this familiar way of communicating with his subjects. A few of which, who now accompany him, running alongside him, understanding the need to lose his pursuer.

Oltyx dropped on all fours, as another necron from his right stood up and ran down another alleyway.

He wanted to congratulate them for their impromptu thinking.

Yenekh would most certainly lose track of him, and he could put some serious distance between them.

This all started when they were roughhousing outside the throne room, in the palace’s murky fountain, whose little water was almost always filled with pieces of rotting meat and stringy sinew. The fat in the fountain started rendering, because of the scorching sunlight, making the whole area particularly slippery, also, absolutely perfect for improvised, one-on-one water jousting.

That solar cycle, Oltyx was a poor sport.

He and Yenekh were using a transhuman torso, their fused-together ribs making a perfect board to surf on the slippery surface, and used Grox femurs as rods.

That was the 17th time he was knocked down, Yenekh managing to somehow dodge completely the femur. The rib cage slipped from under his feet as he fell on his back, splashing the putrefied fat around him.

Yenekh kept the momentum to reach the end of the fountain, and kicked the rib cage with his leg in the air, making it spin a couple of times before falling in his stretched hand, between his sharp knife-like fingers.

He then bowed dramatically, as if he just finished the performance of his lifetime, to a group of former warriors, who were enjoying their meal while watching the two play games together.

The Warriors took a break from gorging themselves to politely applaud the winner.

‘…show off…’ Oltyx muttered, still laying on his back, quite uncomfortably he might add.

Yenekh finally turned to him, carefully stepping with his soft leathery feet, coming to his king’s aid.

He bent over Oltyx, covering the sun’s light.

‘Are you miffed?’ Yenekh tapped with his claws on his bony forehead.

‘..no…’ said Oltyx grumpy, averting his focus from him.

He didn’t want the Razor of Sedh to let him win out of pity.

Yenekh tilted his head to the side, rays of sun catching on his fanged mouth, making it seem like he was smiling.

‘From here you sure look like you are’.

‘…I am not..’ Oltyx was sure that his whole kingdom could see him blushing.

It took all his willpower to not blame the cracked rib cage, or the sun in his eyes. A king needs to own up to his mistakes.

He lifted himself halfway, hugging his legs with his clawed arms, not before kicking those stupid ribs away from him.

‘….I am tired of jousting, let us eat something….’, said the king of the flayed ones, not looking at his loyal Razor.

Yenekh didn’t give up that easily, he grabbed his other hand, incredibly dexterous with his claws, and started pulling him up, while his other hand tapped messaged on the lower part of his rib cage.

‘Don’t be such a crosspatch’, he tapped playfully.‘ You only say this because you lost’.

‘…no, it is not because of that…’ Oltyx protested, resisting, but soon had to use his claws to get some purchase on the slippery floor.

 ‘Come, wrestle with me’, the Razor said animatedly, then used both of his hands to grab Oltyx.

The king protested, trying to get out of Yenekh’s grip, but after a few more moments of struggle, he launched himself at the admiral’s middle.

He let out a ferocious growl, barely louder than a whisper, and planted both his feet on the slippery fountain floor.

Yenekh was shocked by the sudden change of heart, and Oltyx made the most of it, by grabbing his tight, and using it to topple him over, on the rotten fat.

He will show him that the Bone King was not made of gristle.

Yenekh took only a moment to respond in kind, bending over, and hugging Oltyx’s hips, by passing his arms through the inner part of his tights.

The warriors watched the fight intrigued, the two necrons locked into a bizarre embrace, struggling to get the upper hand over one another, accompanied by the squelches and squishes of the flesh covering them.

While the Razor was taller and more experienced, Oltyx was massive, and tried using his superior bulk to press the admiral to the ground and under him.

Unfortunately for him, Yenekh was more slippery than an eel, thanks to them being covered by the rancid lipids.

He squirmed and twisted his way out of Oltyx’s grip, managing to get up on his knees, all while grabbing his king’s leg over his shoulders.

‘…no…’ he whispered Oltyx, realizing what was about to happen. He started struggling, as he was slowly but unavoidably being raised from the ground, slowly getting dragged over Yenekh’s shoulders.

Said admiral, was happily tapping on his calf.

‘The Razor of Sedh…. He’s got King Valgûl by the legs……’ he narrated his own actions like he was the scorekeeper.

‘…no, let me down…’ Oltyx protested. He would usually laugh with Yenekh, but now, he couldn’t stand losing again.

The admiral bent his knees, grabbed Oltyx’s spine, and squatted, ready to throw him over his shoulders completely

‘He is about to execute his famous maneuver…A powerbomb.’, he kept on tapping, still managing to stand upright, against a struggling Oltyx.

I will not lose again! But how?

Every second counted.

He tried slowing himself by grabbing onto the other’s legs. His skin was too slippery, and he couldn’t find a purchase.

He racked his brains. He needed to come up with something. All the lessons from the past were to be employed to win this battle.

Lessons of the past?

The strength of the dynasty lies in the stones….in the stones…..

Oltyx curled his fist, with his thumb outside of it, not wanting to dull his claws, and swiftly punched Yenekh between his tights.

The effect was instantaneous.

The king slipped out of his admiral’s gasp and hit the slippery floor, headfirst.

He turned to see a shocked Yenekh, reflexively grabbing the injured area, and looking at him with wide, bright eyes.

Oltyx stood up and absconded.

That’s why he was currently running on all fours, pursued by a probably enraged Yenekh.

He won that battle, but now he must make sure he wouldn’t lose the war.

He knew the Razor well enough and estimated that another day of running would probably soften his anger.

Suddenly, all his subjects halted their sprint. Oltyx turned his head to see what happened, as he kept on running, not noticing the predatory figure, waiting at the end of the alleyway, until he bumped into it.

He felt like he hit a metal wall.

Oltyx fell backward, looking at a serious and quiet Yenekh in front of him.

The admiral was looking at him, crossed-armed, his left claw tapping his other hand, in an angry staccato.

The king of the flayed ones shrugged his shoulder.

‘…I was victorious, in our melee…’ he attempted to justify himself.

Yenekh stopped his tapping.

Then he dropped his shoulders, like sighing.

He places a hand on Oltyx’s shoulder, and as he is tapping he raises his head, his eyes holding his usual smile.

‘And I caught you.’

Oltyx let out a terribly rusted sound, akin to nails on a table, but so much quieter and softer.

The admiral hid his smile with his other claw, joining Oltyx in his laughter.

The noble necron decided to fully make use of his privileges as king, and jumped to hug his admiral into a crushing hug.

He felt Yenekh’s soft leather on the gold and bones of his face.

He inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar aroma. The Razor brain-tanned his skin himself, and taught him how to do it, too.

He smelled like rotten blood, and fatty brain emulsion, dried in the desert sun outside their city.

The Razor, let himself be pushed backward, cushioning his king’s fall with his own body, as he embraced him too.

The more familiar he got with his king, the more Oltyx became comfortable with touching him.

There has always been a deep hunger in Oltyx, but now it was for comfort.

Yenekh felt him nuzzle into the soft skins on his breast.

He started petting the touch-starved ruler, tapping gently on the tips of his spinous processes.

‘That was a very unexpected move. I will be aware of it next time.’

‘…I would not expect any less of you…my Razor…’ whispered softly Oltyx.

Those words send shivers down his spine.

He moved his claw and tapped on the bone of his cheek.

‘Let us go and eat. Oltyx. After such a chase we deserve a proper feast.’

Oltyx nodded but made no attempt to move.

The Razor felt him inhaling again.

Maybe dinner could wait.

He pulled them against a building, so he could lean on it, trying his best to curl around Oltyx’s massive frame.

He places his mouth on Oltyx’s, sharing a silent kiss, feeling his friend hug him tighter in return.

AAAAAAAAAAAA thank you so much, i'm sorry i took so long to post this! 😓 love it!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sonicasura]

Here are with the next part of Kafka's adventures in the Transformers series. This one will be focusing on Transformers Earthspark but it's with the guideline I made here. Also there's another twist not included in said post.

Let's get started!

Transformers Kaijuspark

GHOST's latest experiment with space bridge technology is what brings Kafka into the Earthspark universe. He had been cleaning up the latest kaiju corpse when a portal opens underneath him alongside the body. Shifting into his kaiju form to avoid being crushed, Kafka soon finds GHOST troops ready to shoot him dead.

The man immediately flees as the base is put on high alert. Optimus is the only one able to intercept Kafka by sheer coincidence since the other GHOST bots were caught unaware. The Prime immediately learns why size doesn't matter as the humanoid kaiju overpowers him in an instant.

Kafka manages to escape while Optimus' team is forced to give up chase to treat their badly injured leader. The man hides out in a particular cavern in hopes of shaking off any pursuers. Kafka, still in kaiju form due to stress, finds what looks to be a hidden spring.

Something about the water felt off almost if it was alive. A feeling that is soon proven quickly when a distorted voice(Not Quintus Prime btw) rings through his head and Kafka's power flares in response. The man watches in shock as not only two robots similar to the one he fought manifested but a mysterious gauntlet materializes over his right arm with two names: Vertigo and Jawbreaker.

You read the last name right. During the creation of the triplets, something occurs that prevents Jawbreaker from manifesting. There were signs for a third bot but it sputtered out so the group put it aside for later after the current situation was handled. Hashtag and Nightshade do sense something is wrong. A constant emptiness that is often felt by Splitspark bots should one of their siblings perish or connection is blocked.

Feeling like he couldn't leave the two Terrans behind, Kafka takes Jawbreaker and Vertigo with him as he tries to figure out how to get home. Unbeknownst to them, the newest Terrans immediately feel the emptiness become filled by a soft sweet energy. Hashtag and Nightshade realize that their missing sibling has now materialized.

The Malto family begin to look into any leads for the late triplet. Bumblebee and Megatron however becomes concerned that more is going on when Hashtag eavesdrop a message from GHOST about a strange creature badly injuring Optimus around the same time. It was all too recent in their opinion.

Kafka stirs up a few changes due to his appearance. Jawbreaker gains his Stygimoloch form early when roughhousing with Vertigo. The latter is a Predacon Terran whose alt mode is based on a dragon. Closest depiction is Generation One Dragonoid from Bakugan to put it simply.

Vertigo is less thrilled once he finally meets the Maltos. Personality wise, he's a cold introvert that takes everything with a grain of salt and holds quite a grudge if you hurt his small family i.e Kafka/Jawbreaker. Vertigo is the major obstacle keeping the Maltos away from the youngest triplet.

Kafka's Cybersleeve gonna stir up a lot of insanity too with everyone. The rogue Decepticons, the GHOST Autobots, GHOST, and most specifically Robby. When you consider how he acts throughout the show, the teen wouldn't be happy that some monster(crusty old man once both of Kafka's forms are known) has one. A Cain mentality to put it simply.

Kafka has a lot on his plate on his journey home. Even moreso when he has to consider the two kids spiritually tethered to him. There's no telling how their completely different worlds could react.

A kaiju stuck in a universe of extraterrestrial machines and two Terrans that wish to delve into a realm infested with kaiju.

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 4: Strength to Stand

Chapter warning: Body morphing, accidental nudity, profanity, brothers bullying each other, inhuman physicality, brief descriptions of a POW

Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a

Previous Chapter:

Next Chapter:

The war was brutal on soldiers, Shiani had known it would be. She hadn't, however, realized how hard it was going to be on her. Tech didn’t come back to Kamino much, and it had been over two years since the war started. 

She’d been struggling to figure out these schematics he’d sent her, frustrated at her ability to find the scrap she needed. She had wired a functional hyperdrive and navicomputer out of bits and bobs, the interface coming out of the back of droid’s head like a monstrous brain leech. The hardest part was welding three different recipes of durasteel alloy when they melted a different temperatures. She was starting to think she was never going to have a functional engine unless she started stealing stuff from Tipoca directly. She could get into an open hangar, theoretically…

The very idea terrified her, so she pushed it to the side for the millionth time since she’d first thought of it and decided she’d finish the piece she was working on and go hunting. She was desperately hungry, as always. Since the war started and the cloning operation up above her had ramped up, the litter raining down on the seafloor had gotten worse. Almost nothing lived in her precarious little territory anymore, and she’d been chased on the rare occasions she’d ventured into deeper water. Once, another siren had almost caught her until she’d recklessly headed straight for a glass tube on the bottom, which had electrified protection around it. Shiani knew where the shock started, her pursuer hadn’t, and while they’d been twitching like a stunned fish she’d managed to get away. 

She had just finished up her weld and pushed the mask Tech had given her up off the top of her head, waiting for it to cool enough she could rub her thumbs over it and check the quality. Her comm, sitting on a nearby rock, started vibrating and she scrambled over eagerly. Only one person ever called her. “Tech!”

He was seated alone in the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder, looking through his datapad with the autopilot engaged. She recognized the interior of his ship now, with the recordings he’d sent her and the schematics she’d looked over a thousand times. She’d memorized hundreds of ship types, just so she could recognize his when it came back to Tipoca city. 

He smiled. "It is good to see you as well. How is everything?"

"Same here. Found new parts underwater. And the new handheld you gave me got stuff to work in the cave." She giggled. "My ship is almost done. Come see you in space!"

Tech raised an eyebrow. "What do you intend to use for fuel?"

Her ear fins drooped a little and her expression looked faraway for a moment. "Gonna have to steal some from the longnecks. And an engine, if I can’t find the parts."

"That would put you at significant risk of discovery."

She huffed. “Worth it to get off Kamino. I’m so sick of water.” She was sick of more than water. She was sick of garbage and hunger and the sound of her own people’s singing filling her with dread. If they ever conquered their fear of the longnecks and explored the volcano, she’d be done for.

Tech shook his head wryly. "You belong in water, you are an aquatic species. Even if you can breathe oxygen, it would be difficult for you to move around. You do not have legs. If I took you with me off of Kamino after the war, I would need to find a way to transport you. I’ve considered repurposing a bacta tank with a steering apparatus-"

"That’s a lot of work, Tech. I’ll just change shape."

Tech froze. "You can… change shape?"

Shiani nodded eagerly. "Yes. Sirens used to live on land when there was land. We can have legs, and tentacles too. I’ve been practicing the change, it just took a while to figure out. Most sirens don’t bother. Here, I’ll show you.”

"I was unaware you could do that."

She adjusted the comm slightly and wiggled back so he could see. "I want to walk off Kamino. I’ll see all the places you go!" 

As he watched, fascinated, she pressed four of her tentacles together and hummed. They fused seamlessly, popping audibly as bones formed and flexed into place. When the unnerving sound ended, she was sitting in the sand with the remaining four tentacles splayed out almost skirtlike, and a pair of distinctively humanoid legs stretched out in front of her. She wiggled her toes at the comm. 

"Fascinating…" Tech whispered, taking a moment to inspect the transition. Her legs were as purple as the rest of her, lean and hairless. Her toenails were as pointed and sharp-looking as her fingernails, reconfirming she was a predator. He’d never seen her hunt, but she talked about it sometimes. As she wobbled to her feet, supported by her tentacles, he guessed she was of shorter stature on legs. And- "Shiani! You are not wearing pants!”

"Pants? What pants?" She blinking, scooping up her comm from the rock she'd had it sitting on to bring it to her face. And sparing him, since Tech had just gotten an eyeful of completely bare siren ass. Not an unpleasant view, if he was honest, but that was Shiani. She was as off-limits as a Jedi general. He and his brothers went home with girls they’d never see again from bars, not people they were actually friends with. Sexual contact made things complicated, and his life was complicated enough as a soldier.

"Bottom clothing. You cannot just walk around naked!" His cheeks were red. 

Shiani blinked again, poking her kelp shirt and chains. "Not naked, Tech."

"Yes you are. From the waist down." He grumbled. 

"Humans think naked is the bottom?" She giggled. "So strange."

"I had assumed your use of plant fibers to make a shirt would indicate a little more modesty."

“Modesty for sirens is to cover nipples. What’s the point of covering the bottom?" She cocked her head to the side. “Can’t move around in uniforms like yours, and something that’s loose won’t cover anything anyway. When you swim up, everybody under you can see anyway.” She shrugged. 

"The point is to protect and conceal your… more delicate parts." He sighed. Cultural differences were a minefield, but he supposed this explained why she'd once set up squawking when he'd taken his shirt off to ring the water out of it in the cave during a visit. He'd just thought she was shy around men… "You live in close proximity to a large number of regs, who have limited contact with females of any species. You could be in danger, if anyone saw you."

"Why would regs want to hurt me?" She frowned. 

"Biological impulses are difficult to control, and I do not put my faith in regs to make an attempt."

She scrunched her face. "I thought all clones were brothers, not just your squad. I’m not scared of clones, just longnecks."

"Just trust me. I will bring you a set of blacks to wear when we return to Kamino… though you may need a cadet size."

Shiani nodded. "Okay, I’ll wear the pants. But only for you. When are you coming home?"

"Very soon. We have… adopted a new member of the squad. He needs additional medical attention and new prosthetic limbs, which I will be better able to make with access to the Tipoca City facilities."

She sat back in the sand, eyes glued to his face in the holo. “Will you tell me about your new brother?” She’d hunt later. Right now, she wanted to listen to him talk. She could listen for a thousand years to Tech talking. She wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, when friendly affection started to grow into something new, but at some point during one of the many info-dumps under the lantern light, she’d found herself falling in love with him. How couldn’t she? Tech was handsome and honest, with greater patience towards her than she usually had for herself. He brought her tools and food when he was on Kamino, and sent her encouraging messages when he wasn’t. He was the only person to speak to her since her banishment, the only voice who spoke her name and made her feel like she was still a person instead of a creature descended into madness in the dark. It may as well have been fated for her to fall in love with Tech, the way the Harmony and Melody had put him in her life. 

Entirely unaware of her blossoming, soul-deep devotion, Tech had launched into his story. "Alright. It began on Yalbec Prime, with an insurrection of an insectoid species-"

"Tech's hiding something." Hunter grumbled. "I'm tired of dancing around it. He's constantly disappearing or taking comms with the cockpit doors shut."

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend?" Wrecker suggested. They were back on Kamino, Echo just back from medical with new attachments to his half-wired brain. The poor Corporal looked exhausted, but was sitting up to wait for Tech to get back from… wherever he'd gone. He couldn't sleep until everyone was accounted for.

"Yeah right. That nerd?" Crosshair huffed. "No way in hell."

"Maybe a friend then?" Echo mumbled, gratefully leaning on Wrecker when he sat down beside him.

Hunter sighed. "It's a distraction, whatever it is. He needs to come clean."

"So have Wrecker hold him down and I'll take his glasses like we did as cadets. He'll fess up when I can't see two feet in front of his face." Crosshair smirked around his toothpick.

"That was a dick move then and it's a dick move now." Hunter groaned. 

"You want answers or not?"

"... fine. Wrecker, grab him when he walks in the door."

Echo rolled his eyes, but decided to get in his hammock to wait instead of watching the shit show too close. These guys were all the chaotic energy of Domino squad, but crammed into each individual. Together? A tsunami of stupid that somehow worked.

Tech had been gone a couple hours already, so it wasn't long before he did show back up. Soaking wet, which Wrecker immediately noticed when he put the genius in an arm lock. "Were you outside?! Why are you wet?!"

Crosshair snagged the goggles off Tech's face and shook the water off. "Ugh."

Hunter made a face. "You smell like low tide. Where have you been?"

Tech wiggled uncomfortably. "Put me down, Wrecker."

"Not until you tell us what's going on with you." Hunter demanded. "You've been vanishing for hours every time we come back here."

"I have other engagements. It is not affecting my work." Tech squinted at him. "And return my glasses. You know I need them to see."

"Nope." Crosshair sprawled out in his own bunk. "We could roll back the cam footage, Hunter. He records everything."

"You will get nothing. The footage is password protected." Tech sniffed. Anything to do with Shiani he kept under lock, since he couldn't risk the Kaminoans finding out about her.

"So you are hiding something." Hunter growled.

"It is a matter of personal security. Now put me down!" Tech squawked, kicking his feet. 

"Security for who?" Crosshair smirked, dangling Tech's goggles just out of reach. "There's a sea swell tonight with half the city underwater, and you were outside? Doesn't seem too secure to me, vod."

Tech frowned, mind racing to figure out a way out of this. He'd calculated his contact with Shiani into his life, been absolutely sure it wasn't affecting any missions or endangering his squad… he'd forgotten to factor in how fucking nosy his brothers were. "It is not any of your business-"

Taptaptaptap.

The furious sound of staccato nails on the window caught everyone's attention. Tech squinted at the ghostly figure of a 8-legged woman glaring at the scene in front of her, pointing at Wrecker holding him in the air and Crosshair with his goggles. 

"What the fuck is that?" The sniper blinked, leaning back with his eyes fixed on the bared fangs in front of them. Her mouth was terrifying, splitting almost to the back of her jaw in a vicious snarl to show exactly how sharp those teeth were. 

Tech smirked faintly. If she was going to reveal herself... "The reason I was out."

Wrecker dropped him to run to the window and Tech snatched his goggles back. "She looks mad." The giant blinked. 

Shiani was signing angrily at him, who didn't have a clue what she was saying. Echo, on the other hand, whistled. "She is."

Tech walked up, signing back to her. "It is alright. They were just wondering where I was."

“Are you hurt?” Her lips snapped shut the minute he approached, face softening back into something vaguely pretty, with no visible seams around the corners of her mouth. He’d never seen her do that before… but he’d never seen her angry, either. 

"No, I am not injured. But they have seen you now. I thought you wanted to remain hidden."

“Just wanted to make sure you got to your room safe, so I followed.” Her tentacles drooped nervously. “Was worried”. 

Tech smiled. "May I introduce you? These are my brothers."

“They won’t tell anyone? They’re safe?” 

"Yes. They are safe." Tech looked over at the squad. "You all must agree to never discuss her with anyone else. Her species lives in hiding from the Kaminoans. They could be in danger if the wrong person knew of their continued existence."

The other four clones nodded, gathering at the window curiously. Tech pointed out each brother, signing for her. "This is Hunter."

“Tracker and leader. Hunter.” She waved, scooting closer to the glass. “Skull face?” 

"Yes, he has a tattoo on his face."

“Good leader. Perfect success, Tech told me.” 

Hunter preened a little as Shiani kept signing. "What did she say, Tech? I didn't catch that."

Tech snickered. "She said you had best not let me get hurt. She is quite protective, as you can see."

Crosshair chuckled. "Feisty squid." Suddenly the nearly-forgotten drunken conversation about tentacles made sense to him. Tech had a thing for the siren, and he wasn’t doing anything about it. Of course he wasn’t, because Tech would think himself in circles and avoid risk at all cost. If he was friends with her, he’d be concerned about changing the dynamic… Tech hated change so much it was almost hilarious. Almost. 

"She is a siren. This is Crosshair, Shiani."

She mimicked firing a rifle curiously. “Sniper. Never misses.” 

"That's right. She's pretty smart." Crosshair nodded. 

Tech nodded. "She is very intelligent, and enjoys learning. I have been teaching her Basic."

"So she can talk?" Wrecker grinned, pushing Crosshair out of the way. "Hi, Miss Squid lady!"

"She cannot hear through the window, but her name is Shiani. Shiani, this is Wrecker."

Shiani put her hands on the window to examine Wrecker’s face. Wrecker stared back, a little uncomfortable under the predator’s pale eyes. After a moment she touched her own face and signed. Tech smiled. "She wants to know if your face hurts. She is very empathetic."

Wrecker grinned and shook his head. "Nah. It doesn't hurt anymore."

Shiani nodded, signing to Tech. Echo laughed. 

"What did she say!?" Wrecker pouted.

"She told Tech not to stand too close to you." Echo wheezed. 

Tech smiled and waved Echo a little closer. "This is Echo. The one I told you about, on the last mission."

She put a tentacle to the window, considering his pale and tired face. Echo tried not to squirm under her wide gaze until she smiled, and even then those inch long canines were unnerving. “Very brave Echo. Hero.”

He flushed when he realized she’d complimented him. "Not really…"

“You saved Anaxes. Survived capture. Echo is like a Chainbreaker.” 

Echo looked at Tech. "Chainbreaker?"

"Her people's heroes. The ones who led them out of captivity and to freedom in their underwater cities. The chains she is wearing is a symbol of freedom to them, to take back what kept them bound and use it for their own. It is a very high honor to be considered a Chainbreaker." Tech explained. "I told her about your experience on Skako Minor."

"So that's what you were doing all afternoon?" Hunter cocked an eyebrow. 

"No. I talked to her over comm on the way here. This afternoon, she wanted to show me something she is building. And I took her some food and pants."

"How's she getting all those wiggly parts in a pair of pants?" Crosshair huffed.

"She has shape-shifting abilities." Tech looked back at Shiani, who was floating upside down to examine Echo’s scomp arm. "She wants to leave Kamino."

"Tech, we can't take her with us. She'd be caught by the Kaminoans instantly… and we're soldiers. We can't take a girl like that into a war." Hunter sighed.

"I know. But perhaps… after the war." Tech gave the siren a regretful look. He might not even survive that long, war was inherently dangerous. Still, the idea of taking Shiani where she could see all the things he'd shown her through his recordings… it was a nice dream. She'd be happy.

"Maybe." Hunter looked at her too. "She seems like a nice girl."

"She is extraordinarily pleasant company." Tech smiled a little, and that was the nicest thing Hunter had ever heard him say about anyone.

[loving-jack-kelly]

superhero au where Davey has been a hero his entire life, recruited as a child, is looked up to and honored and admired by so many people, a shining example of what it means to be a good metahuman, somebody who uses their powers to help and uphold the morals and standards that everyone knows are best. he's been doing this for so long, his whole life, and everyone expects him to be perfect. he's merciful when he needs to be but knows that justice comes with a price. he's well-spoken and respectful, he knows how to talk to a crowd, he's the kind of hero that kids have posters of and people swoon over. he sits up straight for interviews and talks about the moral obligation those with powers have to protect those without, how choosing to do anything else with those powers is a waste of positive potential and only contributes to the problems that he's working so diligently to face.

and maybe he believes it for a time. for a long time. he believes it because it's all he's ever known, all he's ever been allowed to know. he's a role model, a hero, somebody for people like his kid brother to look up to. all of those things are good, aren't they?

but he knows there's more out there. and maybe he wants to give that more a try. maybe, after a long month of neverending fights, when he's bruised and sore and still nothing is fixed, nothing is better, maybe he has a moment of rebellion that he never allowed himself to have as a kid. maybe he puts on a new disguise, one that nobody will recognize, and he slips away into the city to live his own life, just for a night, not the life that somebody else decided he should have when he was a kid.

and the thing is. there's a whole world out here that nobody has ever thought to tell him about. a world of people who are rich and colorful and bright and full, who have lives on the streets of the city so unlike the sanitary, solitary existence he's believed in for himself for so long. he slips into the city and before he knows it, somebody who melts into the shadows like he's one of them and leaves streaks of light across building faces as easily as spray paint is grabbing his hand and telling him to, run, goddamnit, you led them right to me!

and this boy, this shining boy who's barely older than davey but knows the ins and outs of this city better than anybody davey has ever met, is laughing. davey is learning that he knows nothing about being on his own, nothing about how to sneak away, nothing about any of this, even the things he's supposed to be good at. he was followed from home by people who want to make sure he's never anything less than perfect, but this boy pulls him by the hand into an alley and surrounds them in shadow so dense davey hears rather than sees their pursuers run past, and then he's laughing.

and this boy, this shadowy, shining boy, pulls sparks from the air to leave his mark on every street corner they pass. he presses light into crevices in the sidewalk, gives warmth to the people they pass who have no home to return to, flashes a smile so bright that a shopkeeper doesn't notice when a little kid with holes in his shoes steals something to eat right in front of them. he's everything davey is supposed to warn against, somebody powerful, somebody strong, who doesn't use their powers for good the way davey has been taught is the only way to be good. but this boy, who names himself jack, is doing more good in one night than davey feels that he's done in the last year. these people recognize jack, they thank him for something he did yesterday and he laughs it off as nothing, nothing, just doing what needs to be done. he pulls a blanket made out of shadow from thin air and wraps it around the shoulders of a woman shivering in the night's breeze. from a block away, he throws up a wall of shadow that lets a woman disappear around a corner without the man following a few paces behind to see where she went.

and davey is in awe. and davey is realizing for the first time in his life that there is so much more to life and so much more to being a hero than he thought there was.

and jack, who's smarter than he tries to seem, has noticed right away how davey moves faster than he should and reacts before he should have noticed, has noticed the hidden strength that doesn't seem possible with the way his body is built, and he says, you don't have to hide it, you know, you should meet my friends.

and for the first time, davey meets people like him who are allowed to just be people. people with powers who use them for fun, a boy who can fly using it to steal his brother's hat and stick himself to the ceiling so he can't get it back, a boy who can read minds playing cards and pretending not to cheat, a boy who can see through walls teasing his friends by shouting out what embarrassing thing they have hidden under their pillow. not heroes, these kids, at least not according to what davey has been taught a hero should be. they're not neat and coiffed and carefully maintained, not scripted and stiff and poised. and he loves it. and he wishes that he'd been allowed to have this. and he wishes he could be a part of this.

and when jack starts talking and they start listening, davey hears a whole different kind of hero. the kind that jack is, the shining boy who doesn't care about the grand, posturing battles taking place miles above the city but cares so much about a kid going hungry that he can bring himself to tears. the kind of hero who isn't a role model because he never curses and is never anything but polite and never questions let alone breaks the rules, but is a role model because he isn't scared to get dirty, isn't scared to throw a punch against somebody dressed up and nice and neat and respectable and kind when he sees through that show, isn't scared to be seen as a bad guy by some people when he knows he's doing the right thing. and all of these kids are like that, davey notices.

when he leaves that night, with a shard of crystalized light he has to wrap in three pairs of socks to hide in his dresser drawer, he starts paying attention. starts noticing the way that the fights he gets thrown into don't change anything because that's the point, they're not supposed to. he's a hero because the status quo says the good guys are the ones who listen to the rules, even when the rules are hurting more people than they're helping. he's a hero because when he was little and not in control of his powers, promising to be good and sit still and not show off was the way to get people to leave him alone, he's a hero because somebody saw that he was so eager to please and so eager to be good that he could force himself to never think about anything as long as he was making people happy and keeping his family safe. and that tiny seed of rebellion that made him steal a night in the city grows bigger and bigger and bigger until it's driving him crazy, making him restless and reckless and stupid. until he's asking his sister, what if things were different and I didn't need to be this way? what if things were different and everyone understood that there's nothing special about me? and he's noticing the way she catches her breath and the way she's lying when she says, but this is the way it has to be, this is the way we need it to be, this is the way that it's safe. and it breaks his heart to realize that, however heroic everyone else seems to think he is, his family doesn't trust him, not really. because he never breaks the rules, and if he never breaks the rules, that means he won't tolerate them breaking the rules, either.

when he's on duty at night, he watches the streaks of light that appear from the shadows, burning messages that nobody but the person who created them can erase into the face of the city. he starts to notice how many people have gifts from shadowy, shining jack, and he starts to notice what the other kids he met are up to, too, the people they help and the difference they make. and that seed of rebellion grows and grows and grows until even the people who think he's a perfect, controlled, impenetrable example of their goodness start to notice. until sarah confesses to him, late at night and whispering so low he almost can't hear her, that she's been sneaking into the city at night, that les has been sneaking into the city at night, that they both thought davey would hate them for it. and when davey pulls that shining shard of light out of his sock drawer, sarah laughs just as quietly and says, it's like cinderella in reverse.

and on the day that perfect and poised, stiff and scripted, excellent example of heroism davey jacobs finally lets that seed of rebellion burst into something more, for the first time, he actually feels like a hero. not like an actor playing a part. and when shining jack kelly takes his hand this time and draws him into a shadow so deep he can almost taste it while letting dangerous pursuit run past, this time he doesn't say, run, you led them right to me. he says, I knew there was something weird about you. he says, do you want to help me change the world?

and for the first time since he was very young and very naive, davey actually believes it when he says, yes, I'm here to change the world.

[666melvin666]

As dusk settled over the cobblestone streets, Streber's heart pounded with both fear and a desperate need to escape. He knew his life depended on his ability to outrun the vengeful mob that pursued him. The once-familiar faces of the townsfolk now wore expressions of anger and determination, their torches casting an eerie glow in the night.

Streber sprinted through the winding alleys, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls. His mind raced, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. He had always kept his true nature hidden, struggling to suppress the primal thirst that coursed through his veins. But the rumors had reached a boiling point, igniting a frenzy of paranoia and hatred.

The townsfolk's shouts and the sound of their pursuit grew louder with each passing moment. Streber's heart ached, for he had known these people his entire life. They were his neighbors, his friends. But now, their faces twisted with hostility, they had become a relentless mob, their only aim to vanquish the perceived evil that plagued their beloved town.

With each step, Streber pushed his body to its limits, adrenaline surging through his veins. His vampire speed allowed him to evade capture momentarily, but the mob was relentless. He dodged obstacles, his movements a blur of desperation and agility. Yet, he couldn't escape the weight of their hatred, the heavy burden of their fear.

The familiar landmarks of the town passed by in a blur: the towering clock tower, the peaceful chapel where Streber sought solace, and the bustling marketplace now abandoned and shrouded in darkness. The place he once called home had transformed into a labyrinth of danger and betrayal.

Determined to escape the clutches of his pursuers, Streber veered into a narrow alley, hoping to lose them in the maze-like streets. But the mob, driven by an unyielding fervor, persisted in their hunt. Their shouts echoed off the walls, pushing Streber to the brink of exhaustion.

In the midst of his frantic flight, a flickering light caught Streber's attention—an open gate leading out of the town. Hope flickered within him as he pushed himself to run even faster. The night air filled with a mix of adrenaline, fear, and the desperate need to survive.

With one final surge of energy, Streber reached the gate. The townsfolk's cries grew distant as he vanished into the unknown. His heart was heavy with the realization that he could never return to the place that had once been his home. Meet STREBER