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secretgamergirl · 2 years

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The Entire Plot of Final Fantasy 14, with all the expansions, and some serious analysis of how good it actually is. (Part 9 - Endwalker)

Last time, we had a lot of fun in a raid chain where our adopted daughter had some nice dates with her forgetful new girlfriend and helped us fight her sleaker, sometimes hornier reimaginings of old boss fights. Oh and we also spent a ton of time setting things up for this expansion, just clearing the traditional problems of political infighting, racism, and a seemingly endless cycle of responding to violence with religious zealotry and kidnappings. And this annoying turbo-dweeb Fandaniel doing poorly explained overpowered derivative crap.

Now before I get started, I feel I should just lay it out there a super strong theme of this whole expansion is suicidal thoughts, and I’m not planning to really dwell on it, but personally I found there’s a lot of stuff in here where just quickly and sort of lightly bringing up a particular flavor thereof got me into some real bad memories, so be ready for even briefer mentions I guess. The other two major thematic elements we have going on here are worshipful love letters from the whole staff to takeout food, and what has to be an intentional pattern of setting up exciting tension and then just completely defusing it. Plus the pacing’s kinda shot from trying to squeeze two expansions worth of plot into one. If only there were an in-game vista that summed this up...

Let’s see if I can get all this into a halfway reasonable word count. First order of business, we’re headed to Nerd Town, AKA Old Sharlayan, in hopes of working out why a bunch of eggheads aren’t willing to help the guy publicly announcing his plan to kill everyone in the world, or barring that, at least get access to their pretty impressive library. Nerd Town kinda sucks. Super bureaucratic. First thing when you show up you have to get processed and get your green card. Plan is everyone’s an assistant working for Krile who’s still very much a member of a respected research group, they aren’t terribly amused by the ridiculous things you can state when they ask for your name and occupation. Also while things look very Mediterranean it is firmly and repeatedly established that this place has just the worst, blandest food in the world. Oh and on the boat ride over you get a vision of a human-shaped Hydaelyn showing up to confirm that yeah, she and Zodiark are just summoned god like all the others, nothing special, and also she’s been weakening as more and more shard-worlds get reabsorbed via apocalypses and strengthening Zodiark... which doesn’t especially make sense since the whole reason she exists was to punch him hard enough to break things up in the first place. Maybe she got the drop or something.

Anyway, you get stonewalled by stubborn nerds like immediately, and have two leads to follow up on, so you split up and get a choice which to do first. Thancred Urianger and Estinein are going to test an experimental teleporter that doesn’t require you to personally unlock the destination crystal first to get to Thavnair, with its capital Radz-at-Han, which is just India, straight up. Everyone else is going to stick around here and try to sneak into Labrynthos, a whole underground archive/nature preserve/site for top secret experiments by researchers who aren’t beholden to the normal high council of nerds. This mostly involves helping a bunny boy carry crates and a brief foray with Y’shtola testing out the toad spell on you and the twins. You don’t really make a ton of progress. Krile gets kinda spacey, ends up briefly possessed by Hydaelyn to tell you this one mood ring flower they have growing down there is gonna be the key to everything and you should keep one on you, and then you’re all arrested by the science police for snooping around a high security research black site and put on trial. Mostly your party uses the trial to call these dumb jerk nerds out for being dumb jerk nerds, point out you totally are just legitimately working on your own research project, and G’raha points out some historical records marking when they shifted from just being a bunch of nerds learning cool stuff to improve society to a bunch of nerds totally restructuring their society to be isolationist weirdos archiving all the world’s knowledge in their creepy underground bunker.

It’s pretty clear that an archaeological team some years back found something. Like say a god who brainwashed everyone into fanatics or something, and they end up admitting to having this all-important “great work” where everyone has to submit to partial memory wiping and magical compulsion not to speak about it to preserve the important secret, and we are just absolutely setting things up where the nerd high council and who or whatever they’re serving as the real villains of this expansion. But like I said we are all about setting up big things and completely deflating them. Eventually it’ll turn out the thing they’re working on is actually totally benign, nobody’s evil, and they’re just a bunch of arbitrarily obstructionist bureaucrats who suck but are on your side. One member of their high council is enough of a reasonable person to have your back though so you don’t get expelled or anything. You’re still not allowed in the top secret lab though so it’s all kind of a wash.

So, experimental teleport to India because I guess they got sick of having so many expansion locations you reach by hopping a boat from Limsa or just taking an airship or something. Everyone’s super dizzy and nautious from the trip and staggering around, and has the terrible realization that Estinein is wandering around on his own in a big outdoor market desperate for tourist money. You’ve gotta get everyone a nice lassi to settle their stomach and stop that idiot before he blows all his money on kitschy knickknacks! Before you catch up he does manage to blow a couple thousand on a hair band to give himself a nice ponytail. I still don’t like how he looks without his helmet though.

The local population is all au ra and big elephant people.The elephant people have big Tribe Quest vibes, and you do eventually help some out in this sort of ridiculous setup where a bunch of delinquent elephant people using hippo-pulled chariots to drag race get into hot water for being a public menace, and turn over a new leaf opening a delivery service. Mostly it’s delivering takeout, but there’s also quests where you go around throwing Gulal at people, one where you are clearly conducting a drug deal (the second time this comes up at that, Heavensward has you helping cool bug pals harvest marijuana and sell joints to the other locals), and there’s one really unfortunate one where you’re asked to put on a ridiculous mascot elephant head and shout at some random person that you’re his god because people are sick of him praying constantly. All of this is actually post-Endwalker though, because we just arbitrarily gate all the tribe quests back there this expansion. What we’re actually here for now is helping some other elephant people who are actually doing very serious government-approved reseach on these big evil towers. Presumably since the first “tribe” unlocked are full citizens of a friendly nation, when these first went live they quietly went through the whole UI replacing “Beast Tribe” with just “Tribe.” Interesting that this didn’t happen earlier with the dwarves getting drunk and building tanks or something.

Anyway, their leader Nidhana, who’s just a real nice friendly nerd hanging out any time you’re in the area, has been working on these special “warding scales” that should in theory make anyone carrying one immune to godly mind alteration, not only letting random NPC military forces approach these towers safely, but also let the other Scions or any other noteworthy friends canonically tag along for future boss fights and so on. And they do in fact work perfectly. But oh no! There’s this weird creepy little kid showing up to deliver a fresh load of the secret ingredient they need. A huge pile of scales clearly ripped away from the belly of a dragon! Estinein, who’s come a long way on this sort of thing, is way sympathetic to dragons now (probably helps that he straight up turned into one for a bit) and confronts him, but again, we aren’t paying tension off. The Satrap who rules the country and his entire family line before them have just always had this big cool dragon friend Vrtra and he’s happy to help with stuff like this. Anyway, Nidhana decides to test one of these scales personally and heads off to the local tower, which people are locally calling the Tower of Zot, and while it does work, the second the door opens she gets hauled inside with huge chains, her scale gets lost, and she’s stuck in one of those torture walls.

We also get some attempt to retroactively make Fandaniel a character by establishing that before he was made into, let’s be honest, a fake Ascian, he was Amon, yeah like the optional FF3 boss who’s also in this, who we’re retconning into a clone of this guy, a horribly evil Allagan mad scientist who’s personally responsible for any sort of humanoid monsters walking around. Minotaurs, snake gals, nerdy bird people, all him just messing around. Also big into cloning. Hence everyone in the Crystal Tower raid. I don’t care, he’s still just the absolute worst and shallowest character.

You head off to give the Satrap a good news bad news report, and not long into the conversation Estinein gets annoyed and demands we pull back the big Wizard of Oz curtain and just directly talk to the secret ruler of the nation. Oh no! The Satrap and his whole family line are just political puppets and this country has actually been run by Vrtra the huge dragon and heretofore unmentioned additional child of Midgardsormr all along! Which... is fine actually. With the notable exception of Nidhogg every named dragon, especially the elder wyrm siblings here, has just been the absolute chillest nicest most understanding person, and Vrtra is no exception.Super nice even! And the creepy kid is just one of Vrtra’s eyes stuck into a totally indistinguishable from a normal au ra child android the local alchemists whipped up. Seems like the fact they can do that should be more of a big deal but it just never comes up elsewhere. Anyway you still need to keep this a secret from the general populace, because if they found out this cool friendly dragon who’s been known to be a trusted ally to the whole nation since it was first founded is actually the ruler, uh... everyone would be totally fine with that actually. I’m getting a little out of order but the next time you’re in the area the fake Satrap dies and Vrtra has to personally step up and for real not one single person has a problem with this, and really why should they? There’s a similar bit incidentally late in the last expansion where G’raha finally goes public with how the fabled Warrior of Darkness restoring the night sky is actually the protagonist, and this confused crowd of onlookers is just like, “yeah, obviously? This mysterious old friend of yours from where you’re originally from shows up, you’re ecstatic, and every time they take a trip somewhere we hear about the local Lightwarden being killed and the sky being fixed. This isn’t hard to piece together.”

So OK, big Tower of Zot rescue time. We just need to make a quick hop back to Nerd Town to merge these split progression options and catch everyone up. We’ve had too much lavish fan service for 5 and 6 so far, so now it’s really FF4′s turn to get some love. Inside the Tower of Zot we fight the three Magus Sisters, as the local gods being summoned by torturing elephant people in the walls. Who’d you expect them to worship in India, Shiva? Rama? No no no those were a historical white lady and a big beardo worshipped by plant-faeries. Clearly in India they worship that boss trio with the delta attack. Keep it straight. We even have Dr. Lugae and Barnabus for a sub-boss on the way! Oh and there’s a bit teased at the end about a severed hand in the core of the tower that feels like we’re setting up some sort of Golbez thing, but no.

What it actually is is that they kinda used the emperor’s corpse as a summoning base for the whole get people to worship Garlemald itself (have I actually ever mentioned that’s the official name of the Empire? I feel like I just keep saying “the Empire” since it’s just easier). It also makes for a convenient weakpoint for Estinien to jump up and stab, causing the whole tower to poof. Fortunately G’raha’s around and he knows float. Also fortunately Alisae’s around and she whips her hog out to start deprogramming tortured nerds, starting with Nidhana who notices the mood ring flower and talks about this obscure scientific study where not literally everything in the world is just aether related technobabble. There’s a secondary natural force/subatomic thing she calls Akasha and everyone else calls Dynamis later (and I think came up in the Sri Lakshmi fight as orbs of “vril” you need to grab before the big dance number). It’s basically impossible to measure so it’s an obscure thing, but yeah, mood ring flower. Anyway everyone heads back to Nerd Town as those scale talismans get distributed to your allies, which again at this point basically means like... 80% of the world give or take. And then you get woken up in the middle of the night because your friends are all sick of terrible Sharlayan food and decided to surprise you with takeout. Look at this cutscene. Watch G’raha make sweet passionate love to this enormous cheeseburger.

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The next order of business involves taking an airship and heading into the heart of the empire. Not because we’re back to the invasion though. At this point the empire is just straight up dead. All it really took was you proving they weren’t invincible in Stormblood and the extra unrest of the emperor himself being killed by his back from the dead deeply messed up son, and they just completely self-destructed on their own. This might actually be my favorite plot point in the entirety of FF14. They have this empire very clearly modeled after the nazis, and basically as soon as they lose their morale and momentum in a big way, they immediately collapse into infighting and tear themselves to pieces. As always happens in the real world. I’m less keen on how this, like so many other things, has nazi scientists actually making ridiculous cool stuff though. In reality nazi scientists have never actually existed, just a bunch of absolute suckers so hopped up on their stupid BS that they ask other people to do wacky comic book science for them and convince themselves the results are amazing. Here though, yeah, we get a ruined imperial capital crawling with death robots, demons called forth from hell, and freaky mutant monsters just crawling through the streets while a few desperate stragglers are huddled around space heaters starving to death by the time you show up, on what is explicitly a pure good will mission to help struggling refugees of their terrible civil war.

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It’s really visually striking, but kind of weird that the Imperial capital is (or really was) just straight up a major 20th century city with all the implied infrastructure. It’s not as shocking as the whole Evangelion thing from the dumbest side quest, but again, people use maps that are half cloud-cover and build stone fortresses guarded by archers all around here. There’s a bit of fighting against what’s left of their military forces when you show up, but you come in with a big huge international coalition that includes Sadu and I guess other people but for real Sadu has the rocks fall everyone dies spell so on the rare occasion you’re teamed up with her for a big plot fight she’s a win button you just stall to help. Resistance crushed, you head out with the twins to try and find some survivors to give supplies and good will to. After a while you find one group, they’re super paranoid and terrified, threaten you, and when your back is turned one of them just grabs her sick little sister and books it into a snowfield, because she’s so hopped up on imperial propaganda about you being dangerous savages they’d rather take their chances running into a snow storm with no supplies, and they absolutely freeze to death before you find them again.

The other major pocket of survivors you find are under the watch of what’s left of one of two surviving military units, holed up in a subway tunnel. You really try your best to just give them the supplies they need to live, but they insist on taking you hostage, putting shock collars on the twins, and forcing you to run around the ruined city to scrape up what little fantasy gasoline (ceruleum) you can syphon out of dead robots and the heater in a no longer functioning muck filled park fountain, and then their commander still kinda just decides the best plan is to attack your refugee aid party and seize everything, since reinforcements are totally coming from the only other surviving legion as soon as they get their radios working, honest. Speaking of, rather than embracing traditional linkpearl technology, the empire has straight up AM radios, and in what really is one of the sloppiest handwaves I’ve seen, turns out the reason there’s any survivors at all is that they were all clustered around their radios listening to news reports and the crackly vocal version of the Imperial theme currently playing on a loop. Anyway you’re about to go “OK screw humoring these idiots” and deal with that when you suddenly black out and we get one of these scenes where I really have to show before I tell so you know I’m not just writing weird slash fiction here.

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We hereby have to wave the right to make any future “at least buy a girl dinner first” jokes regarding Zenos’ whole kill-bang-die confusion. But yeah, this is the point in the plot of FF14 where the wormy little terrible new villain sucks your soul out of your body and sticks it in the body of some random imperial goon, so that you can have a nice dinner date with Zenos, and then he puts on your body, complete with whatever ridiculous gear you have on to go cause trouble and lure you into another date-fight. When I actually did this, tallest most musclebound possible orc gal in this outfit here, which made the whole thing extra kinky on his end.

Of course first you have to get to him in what’s actually kind of one of the most interesting set pieces gameplay wise. You’re still in this borrowed body, which is pretty low level, a fixed class, and has no natural regeneration of any kind, not access to your inventory, and you are just plopped kind of dead center in the middle of these horrible ruins and half to stealth/fight/scrounge your way out with no clear goal markers and a time limit. It’s actually fairly challenging and by the end you’re caught in an explosion so you’re literally crawling home to warn your friends that hey, that’s not you, it’s an undead murderous kinkster stealing your body for his elavorate sex fantasy, but you recover enough to tackle him at the last moment and then also the timer on all this and you’re restored.

So, I am just really conflicted. I maintain that bringing Zenos back from the dead was an absolutely terrible idea. He worked really well as a villain whose motivations take a bit to come into focus and eventually kinda make your skin crawl, the whole thing caps off with a truly excellent death scene that robs you of a nice celebratory vibe for your big victory, the resurrection is some really sloppy writing, especially given how the whole point is he was officially done with life, and they pretty clearly don’t know what to do with him while he’s back. He is literally just sitting there in the background bored out of his mind and actively ignoring the annoying main villain we actually have and his efforts to get him in on the evil scheming. AND YET, every interaction you have with him in this expansion is just such an entertaining scene and gives another fun glimpse into his really... unique frame of mind.

Anyway, that big attack fails, and the leader behind it finally gets word on the radio from his buddy’s unit that... they’ve actually surrendered and his like dozen surviving soldiers are kind of all that’s left of the big evil empire. Hearing this, he decides to go ahead and become the one good nazi we have in this whole thing. Yes that is a euphemism. Yes it does involve him putting down the mic on his radio, picking up a gun, and leaving a nice stain on the imperial flag he has in his little subway car makeshift office. I’m not going to post a screenshot, but seriously, 10/10, no notes. The whole Garlemald chapter of this expansion is great. Love seeing nazis literally being too stupid and racist to live. What little population is left then finally accepts defeat and lets you provide them with the free food, water, heat, and emergency shelter they need to survive. It’s finally time to head into that big menacing Imperial monster palace, AKA the Towel of Babel, find the bit of it that qualifies as a god, and kill it. Specifically what’s left of the old Emperor in the form of a rare FF10 tribute.

Then Fandaniel just kinda grabs Zenos gives a pathetic little speech and uses a big teleporter to flee to the moon. Which is... a bit abrupt but you follow. And uh... the moon sucks, actually? Like we have all this buildup and foreshadowing like it’s going to be this big enemy base and we’re going to do the whole Lunar Subterrane thing but no. Grey dust, annoying to navigate map, clear signs of cut content. You meet a palette swap of Emet-Selch’s recreated pre-fall Ascian ghosts who is... not some sort of phantom but a minion of Hydaelyn’s here to act as prison warden for what’s left of Zodiark, trapped inside the moon like it’s a giant prison (much like the other moon was for Bahamut). There’s this whole business with a ring of gargantuan swords scattered around to act as seals, one of which Fandaniel just destroyed because the whole bit with the towers was powering up a big death star laser to smash these, and you have to go around and pacify the ghosts of sacrifices made to summon Zodiark back in the day to power up the rest, with this helpful golden furred elegant moon dog ferrying you around as needed. Parthway through this though the whole thing gets cut short via Fandaniel’s BS sloppy writing powers, all the remaining towers get smashed, Zodiark is revived, do not pass go, go directly to big epic boss battle against basically Satan, and Fandaniel himself, believing everyone is now going to die, jumps into the big sort of chasm down to the center of the moon unleashing horrible magic energies to kill himself.That’s the end of that. Thank goodness villains always stay dead in this, right?

Anyway you kill Zodiark. Not even all that hard of a boss. But uh... oh right, you kind of weren’t supposed to do that, were you. He was kinda load-bearing. Summoned to avert an apocalypse and all. Which turns out was an ongoing thing not a one-time deal. As your friends catch up, you’re getting informed that The Final Days are now resuming, big ominous meteor showers, death of everyone in the world shortly. And as later exposition confirms, not just this version of this world. All those splintered off versions like the one we JUST saved from an apocalypse last expansion are doomed too. All because you, the main character here, have this legitimate self control issue where you just can’t not kill any god you see on the spot. But the chill moon dog, Argos, then leads you to a giant door to this massive high tech underground city with uh...

They’re called lopporits. They’re based on Namingway from FF4. The look like the sort of little figurines your great grandmother might collect, and they are here because the entire moon doubles as an emergency escape system to load the whole population of the world onto in the event that some idiot comes along, kills Zodiark, and dooms everyone. They’re also so distractingly adorable your whole party just kinda goes slack-jawed, forgets everything they were doing, and the plot just stops dead in its tracks while you spend kind of a weirdly long time just humoring them and trying to give positive feedback to all the amenities they start showing off. They’ve got all your food needs covered with, and this is the official quest item name, obscenely long carrots, described in detail as being particularly girthy. They’ve build everything to perfect human scale... based on an assumption that the average person is still like 30 feet tall like they were back in Ascian times, similarly all just assuming your whole party is a bunch of unsupervised children sent up in the first wave of evacuations. They have to improvise on clothing when it turns out universal dumb black robes are out of fashion, and have some really interesting ideas.

Once again we tease the idea that they actually have super sinister motives and are trying to trap you here with constant distractions, but then no, turns out they’re just really horrified because they’re pretty good at reading people and can clearly see that none of you are actually impressed with any of their stuff. Except Urianger. Urianger loves cute little weirdos and dressing eccentrically. This leads to a big speech to cheer them up, talking about how their self-chosen names all convey their strength of character. Like Mappingway, wanting to chart out all the unexplored secrets of the world, and Livingway just wanting to keep life going for everyone. And then turns out one is named Puddingway, but, you know, everyone likes pudding? And I guess I have to link the comic don’t I.

Anyway, checking back in on things on things down on the planet, which only NOW are we formally establishing is called Aetherys, ending years of confusion where people thought the whole world was either called Hydaelyn or Eorzea. Side note a checked and “Eorzea” is officially the term for the westernmost continent, Aldenard, if and only if you are also counting in the nearby islands. But yeah things are going bad. Especially over in Thavnair, AKA India, where the sky is stock on apocalyptic red with constant meteor showers, and seemingly at random people are turning into rad palette swaps of the freakiest looking monsters we already had models lying around for, which we’re arbitrarily calling blasphemies. There’s reports of this happening in other places too, and a lot of people seem to turn into these things just from the pure terror of seeing them. Y’shtola’s weird vision deal also reveals that rather than similar stuff where someone’s soul/aether gets tainted with some element or other, here it’s just literally rotting and crumbling away to nothing so when these monsters die and leave a sickly black splash on the floor, that’s it, do not go to afterlife, do not pass go, you are done. Sucks for them. Especially since unlike the whole becoming a sin eater deal we are so painfully cribbing from with this, it seems totally arbitrary who it happens to and why.

Anyway they kinda dance around this and kind of offer up extreme fear or hate as alternate causes but by the end of the expansion it’s abundantly clear that you turn into a monster from suicidal ideation... which makes a lot of the panicking crowds popping in the ensuing panic scenes feel really clumsy, writing wise. Also there’s this whole bit where a guy’s worried about his wife and new born baby in the chaos, gets chased by a monster and injured, turns into one himself, tries to kill his wife, she panics and jumps off a high ledge with her baby and dies on impact with the water, forcing you to dive in after to rescue this now orphan baby and hand them off to someone. Here’s the thing though, this doesn’t happen in some instanced thing. This is just your standard, on the overworld, here’s someone giving you your current active quest, here’s where you go to do the next step chain. So you could totally like, wander off with this baby at the bottom of the well, go do sidequests, maybe some that mention “days later” in them, before rescuing this baby. Or do the rescue, but not the hand-off, and just have this inventory baby for a good long while It’s paced excitingly enough this only stuck me after, but it amuses me that it’s technically possible.

This is where the fake Satrap dies, and eventually where we set up our fresh set of Role quests. Each of the five basic combat class types has a lead about a big blasphemy in a different part of the world to look into... and none of these really go anywhere interesting. Healer is probably the most interesting, since it involves checking in on Fordola who is having a very hard time keeping it together and not turning into one of these. The rest are just kinda whatever. Gosetsu shows up again briefly to call out a charlatan medium in the ranged attacker one. Offensive magic has the one that hurts my suspension of disbelief because you deal with the ONE blasphemy in Ishgard and like... it’s Ishgard. The whole place should be a crater right away. As is though yeah there’s like... five people suicidal enough in the rest of the world combined to become blasphemies, and then like half the population of Thavnair. Hell a little later you go back to Garlemald and have to deal with a bunch more of this, but it’s because Thavnairian refugees are coming through on the way to somewhere less terrifying as the red sky spreads to the area and a bunch of them lose it at the thought of nowhere being safe. These people are just kind of this game’s punching bag. My best guess between that and the way there’s no real connection on the map, which is also a bit less filled with interesting details than most, is a lot more was planned for the region but there were cuts and/or delays and the focus of all this ended up there just to flesh things out, but still.

Oh yeah and while dealing with the attack in the Imperial ruins, Zenos shows up randomly to take a big blasphemy down with his cool new scythe... and complain about how bored he is and ask if you can pretty please fight him to the death again soon as soon as you stop getting distracted by this whole thing. He was also pretty polite about this on the moon, but Alisaie wasn’t there to call him out. Another really fun scene here.

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I love how he gets called out for being a weird hedonistic kinkster here, and I love how he responds to Jullus the one Imperial soldier who grew a clue before successfully getting himself killed, barely, with this “wait would you seriously be OK with me destroying the whole country here if I was doing it for some kind of good reason? That is seriously messed up dude, get help.” And then that eye roll at the end.

So turns out the big secret of the Nerd Council is they found the actual embodied true form of Hydaelyn in a cave and she broke down all the details on Zodiark being a load-bearing boss someone would probably eventually kill, and they should really coordinate with these moon rabbits on a plan to evacuate the whole world just in case. And like, OK, but A- they’re really terrible at this. Didn’t even communicate the physical needs of people or population estimates. B- this is really the sort of thing where being less coy and explaining things to the protagonist in particular would maybe help avoid the whole problem because who else do you even have to worry about accidentally killing a god in the heat of the moment? Maybe Estinien? Tell him too. Oh and C- the nihilistic weirdo wanting to end all life and largely doing so by covering the world in mind-control towers kinda seems like a barrier to getting everyone out safely. Same with the deadly biochemical weapons from earlier. Point is the twins’ dad really sucks. Their mom is cool though. She helps Alphinaud switch classes to Sage, the healer that gets a set of flying laser cannons. Also it eventually turns out she’s quietly been THE source of funding for the Scions forever through anonymous donations. Who’s gonna tell these kids their parents are probably getting a divorce?

Getting things back on track, your only real lead is the cryptic hint about the flower. It doesn’t go much of anywhere, except a name for it that dates back to Ascian times. So with all the rest very dead, you go check in with Elidibus who’s not technically dead, just, you know, soul trapped in the crystal tower. Which is also essentially a giant database of Allagan science notes. Turns out while he’s been in there he’s mellowed out a lot and is willing to rework things and send your soul back in time to get info from before anything of note on the whole millennia long timeline happened. Specifically to a research facility called Elpis where people used to send the dangerous monster designs they came up with because they’re bored weirdos with world shaping powers to test and make sure they’re viable and would fit in an ecologic niche somewhere. Problem is you come through all ghostly and also I wasn’t kidding about the 30 foot giants. Fortunately someone eventually notices the weird tiny ghost and convinces his boyfriend to shove some aether into you so you’re solid and properly sized.

If it isn’t our old friend from a few thousand years from now Emet-Selch and his boyfriend we’re at least on good terms with some kinda recreated imaginary semi-ghost version of Hythlodaeus. They looked real dorky back forever ago. Anyway they assume from the matching color of your soul that you’re the familiar of their friend Azem, which, sure, technically distant future reincarnation of slightly more than 50% of said but close enough. So they let you hang out on this business trip. They’re here to offer the position of Fandaniel to this guy here whose real name is Hermes since the previous one just retired, and he’s all mopey about it because when people retire they kill themselves so they can get reincarnated. Except for the previous Azem, she just figured she’d keep hanging out. It’s totally a voluntary thing, not an enforced Logan’s Run sort of thing but there’s still a weird social stigma if you don’t do it so like, hey, Emet-Selch, I feel like you were overselling this place. Everyone’s a workaholic nerd who off themselves when they’re out of ideas for new research grants, and things are looking decidedly more ancient Greece and less extra art deco New York than previously suggested.

Turns out this Hermes kid is really depressed and fixated on death in general. Which is kinda weird when everyone is officially immortal. He’s particularly bummed about how it’s literally his job to snap his fingers and reduce terrible terrible monsters that would like end all life if allowed to exist in the world to their component elements, and fair enough. Maybe work on getting people to stop making horrible ravenous death beasts in the first place though? Anyway he’s proud of himself for making this weird little psychic bird girl who much like these mood ring flowers is also super empathic and gets all sad and mopey with him whenever he gets sad and mopey, which is a lot. In fact, he made a whole bunch. They’re psychically networked, and all called Meteion. Like meteor. Because he’s sending them all out to explore space and try to find some kind of meaning of life thing out. Also they’re based on this Dynamis stuff. Apparently 60% of the mass of the universe is made up of Dynamis. It’s just kinda weaker than Aether so nobody cares, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be able to untap its potential and activate it all like, as he says, a river breaking free of a dam. You can totally see where all of this is going here, right? It’s exactly as blunt as I’m making it sound.

Anyway you hang out a while dealing with this depressed kid and his weird bird girl, and eventually she gets an update that hey, the rest of her sisters have finished that task Hermes sent them out on forever ago after making them apparently some time ago and never formally submitting the design or the plan he had for him to any of his superiors. Specifically the plan was to take his super empathic socially needy bird girls, have them all fly through the supernaturally soul crushing void of space, find whatever aliens might exist and ask them what to him is the ultimate question, apparently some variation on “if everybody just dies in the end what’s even the point of going on living!?” and like... hey, I get it. Someone explained heat death to me when I was like 12. I had a similar breakdown about it. But as Emet-Selch starts tearing into him about as the report comes in, it is really just a terrible idea for all sorts of reasons to try and establish first contact with alien races by having a bunch of depressed bird girls show up and start trauma dumping on them out of the blue.

The results are pretty grim too. They just start going through planet by planet with these little stories about finding formerly inhabited planets where literally everyone is dead, and researching all the various ways this happened. These people had a apocalyptic war. These people got all spiritually enlightened, ended all suffering, and got too bored to keep going. These people had a godlike ruler who got in a bad mood and killed everyone, and hey, talking to us made him suicidal and he killed himself on the spot. This also happened when we contacted this planet where two factions were in this tense cold war setup... Everyone including Meteion really wants to cut the feed on this depressing stuff but Hermes insists on hearing the whole thing and goes off with her to do so.

In the middle of all this though, that aforementioned retired Azem shows up. Her name’s Venat. She’s more on to your weird deal than these others, mostly because she notices you have magic wards on you that seem to have been put there by her, plus she’s visibly that human form of Hydaelyn you got a quick vision of, so, yeah. Pre-deity Hydaelyn here. And she’s nice enough. Eventually the others kinda work out that you two have some weird secret thing going and you end up explaining the deal to the others and Emet-Selch basically responds with, “hey, screw you? Assuming you’re not just making all this up, you’re telling me I just become an absolute melodramatic flouncing asshole in the future, and I refuse to believe that. Like especially the part about me recreating the whole city and everyone in it to mope in? There is no way I would ever become such an over the top drama queen” and like, he keeps going for a WHILE with this. It’s great.

So you all go to confront him about the whole thing, and he arranges the showdown to be at this uh... big computer clock thing on hand that can do time warp things and also erase people’s memories and give them new ones. Seems like a bad thing to have around! Very easily abused! He totally supports his depressed bird daughters in the conclusion they draw that all life in the universe should be eliminated so there’s nobody left to be sad and die, so he’s going to wipe everyone’s memories and just play dumb about the pending bird-girl driven psychic suicidal apocalypse. Your past pals play some head games and Emet-Selch in particular pulls a big switcheroo so you and Venat get teleported out at the last minute. She goes on to become Hydaelin eventually and avoids technically having a villain turn by way of doing the whole Shiva style transformation, there’s precedent, but let’s be real she still kinda sucks and turned the worst Scion into a hand puppet for a bit in there. Anyway, now you know why the world’s ending. A depressed bird girl out in space somewhere. Oh and it’s not like the Fandaniel you know and hate has the memories of this Hermes loser, just his soul, the memories of the main reason Allagan was awful, and the body of the genocidal viceroy’s somehow even worse villain. Just a turducken of guys who really suck.

Back in the present you go find Hydaelyn in the magical god flesh to compare notes on your big stable time loop here, and she’s polite enough to challenge you to a fight to make sure you’re prepared to face some horribly depressed bird girl. And really goes all out so you “tragically” have to kill her. And definitely don’t feel super smug and relieved that in the end you really did get to go and kill literally every god anyone ever summoned. That you know of anyway.

You talk all the nerds in Nerd Town into letting you borrow their secret evacuation spaceship if you can find nerds able to increase the engines’ efficiency because as is, even the moon evacuation plan would take too long. That bits easy because you know a ton of nerds and a ton of people willing to drag over chunks of Dalamud, the whole Bahamut prison moon which are all over the place and make good scrap for this. Then the only problem is loading in enough Aether as fuel to get to the far edge of the universe. If only there was a really good way to condense a whole massive pile of crystals into something nice and compact. Say the size of a boss fight. Oh right summoning gods! The lopporits, who totally ended up coming down with Urianger to get firsthand knowledge of day to day planet life to build better stuff for people and also just dig it, just so happen to know an alternate summon ritual that bypasses all the greedy syphoning of all the world’s aether and mind controlling everyone in the area. That’s... absurdly convenient. So you get a bunch of reformed priests to resummon every god up through Stormblood with the safety on, and just... load them into the fuel tank of this spaceship you kinda low key stole from some terrible nerds. Actually at the very last minute Cid shows up to “help” and honestly the work is all done literally all the guy does is add a coat of paint with his logo on it, and insist on naming the thing. Kind of a dick move, Cid. So he kinda steals it from them and you steal it from him.

So... I feel like I’m due to break text up with something and the end of the universe, AKA Ultima Thule, or as I like to call it, Space Hell, is super visually interesting but it photographs terribly so have this but honestly this dorky power ballad is NOT playing when you show up here. Nor are silly mounts until you’re done with the plot, like every area basically.

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Space hell is built out of the random chunks of various dead worlds Meteion found just kinda brought together into a depressing collage. Technically some of these still have inhabitants, kind of. One is the dragon homeworld, and as we know dragons don’t really die properly, so, they’re all dead, but still hanging out being super depressed about the intense pollution not letting them have kids who aren’t monster freaks. We’ve got people who became beings of pure thought and then got depressed about heat death, and then realized they need to have bodies again to kill themselves, we’ve got the race of horrible death robots who destroyed dragon planet, and honestly a hell of a lot of other planets. Backstory is they were really wimpy and paranoid about being killed by space horrors, so they built death robots and also went full cyborg and transfered their minds into death robot bodies and upgraded those further and built Omega and kinda got real carried away on the proactive defense and realized they kind of had killed like half the life in the universe and could totally take the other half in a fight even all at once. So then they had a big existential crisis because what were they doing before going to war again?

So again, this is after the credits roll and you come back here in the patches, but after you finish this whole existential threat to the universe thing you come back here with a now retired lopporit and they’re still all what do we even do now, so you just toss it out there that one of the other worldlets was this like coffee shop from a planet where the bird girls couldn’t even work out how everyone died it looks like they just got raptured or whatever, so why don’t the death robots just like, move in and open a nice little cafe. Make coffee and soup and stuff for all the other last survivors of civilizations. And they go for it and it’s probably my favorite of all the tribe quests.

But we’re not here to help death robots research soup recipes YET. We’re here to recreate the original first season Sailor Moon finale. Marching across a horrible field of total desolation where all of our friends make big heroic sacrifices one by one so we can continue. And honestly the framing is weird because basically it’s a chain of finding a nihilistic alien representative, hear why they think life’s not worth living, someone steps up with a counter argument, they sort of explode and form a bridge to the next area. It’s all about the emotional arguments because this is all made of Dynamis, so everything operates on pure vibes. These are vibe-ranium bridges if you will. Anyway what I initially thought was going on here is you land in like pure depression land and people keep vanishing because they talk themselves into better head spaces and are ejected. I feel like that’d make way more sense, but no, all your friends are in fact explaining reasons to go on living then promptly dying.

Eventually you run out of friends as you hit the cafe here, and can only advance by talking to the depressed bird girl herself about all your personal trauma and stuff and how you get past it, which creates a very long stairwell to the surface of the dead sun she’s keeping everyone’s souls in so they can’t reincarnate, and THAT’S when the power ballad in that earlier clip kicks in, as you walk up to have a boss fight. And you know, it’s a pretty good JRPG final boss fight. Big weird woman, lots of wings jutting out all over, really over the top throwing planets at you attacks. The classic stuff. And then halfway through the fight freaking Zenos just literally comes crashing through the 4th wall and goes “hey, this who you’re fighting? She doesn’t actually seem tough, you want to hurry it up? I stopped by the bar you scions hang out at and someone said you were here, so I turned myself into a dragon again so we can finally have that proper rematch as soon as you’re done here. Do you need help or anything to finish up faster?”

Tumblr’s not letting me add any more movies but NO REALLY THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENS it’s hilarious. And here’s the comic version.

I have a line I really want to go out on here, so, again, here’s my Patreon. I hope I’ve entertained and educated you with all this over the course of the month. And here’s what I have to say on what post-game currently exists for this. Also here is the actual proper 10th part of this whole project I later wrote after the Endwalker patch cycle finally finished.

The ghost of Emet-Selch and his boyfriend show up for a last minute sappy pep talk, and to remind you that while it might seem like we’ve literally wrapped up every single loose end, there’s some islands you’ve never been to. A whole southern continent to explore. The rest of those dimensional shards. You never got around to fighting The Twelve. So yeah title cards and NPCs and E-S narrating this expansion have been saying the whole time this is the end of the story, but we’re not DONE done. So you beat this bird girl down, the dead sun hatches and blue sun yolk drips out restoring life to the universe, your friends all get to come back, you activate their emergency teleporters and chuck yours so you can go in for the finishing blow, and then well, here you are. Just alone at the edge of the universe in a big empty space behind a random diner. Zenos just finally got the message and came and did something good to help you out, and he’s really giving you those puppy dog eyes. So after a set of dialog choices for exactly how you want to begrudgingly admit you honestly do also enjoy a really over the top boss fight, you begrudgingly agree to have a big duel with him, you know, just this once, fully aware he gets off on these, and it honestly goes on for a really long time, including a bit where he flat out kills you and teaches you the boss encounter trick to just pulling out a second health bar through sheer force of will, and the whole thing ends with you just tossing your weapon aside and running up to give him a big ol’ punch right between those weird never quite focused eyes of his while he has this blissed out grin.

So the conclusion, for now, of the whole long epic story of Final Fantasy 14 which I have explained to you this month is, I swear before this whole mountain of dead gods, that you make sure none of your friends are looking and give Zenos a pity handjob in the back lot behind a diner in the middle of nowhere.

#mic drop #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #there's flying and humanoid sharks in elpis and hythlodaeus says they're big now and I know I know plenty of furry artists don't tell me...

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goddamnwebcomics · 7 months

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To bring back this old conversation, I’m fully aware of the longevity and rigid yet inconsistent update schedule of a lot of webcomics. The problem I mainly have is that most webcomics, usually the ones with an overarching plot or narrative, tend to stretch their mysteries out for too long, or worse, spend time on mysteries that are the least important or interesting part of a story. An ongoing mystery that may have been going on for over a decade or two and yet drags out and drip feeds so little information that it becomes both frustrating and utterly pointless to the overall themes, interpersonal character writing, and plot of a webcomic. I’m not faulting an author for how they enjoy the pieces of their story being picked up by their readers, but I am if they have a mystery that’s only filled with questions and rarely, if not never, feels like they’re ever close to a clear answer or good-sounding implication for the next several years. There’s only so much that can be stretched for that.

For something easier and more current, see Peter and Company’s ongoing mystery about the Guardians. Since day one, these guys have just had an ongoing mystery written around them about what the specifics of their jobs are, how their power apparently works, where they came from, and what they are exactly. Somehow close to 20 years, the author still seems to drip feed information at a constant snail pace whenever he just feels like being a cheeky fucker about it, and most range from pretty basic (their general roles for helping troubled children) to just being plain insipid (they’re immortal and they’re sort of multilingual). The lore around the Guardians is far too vague and frustrating to really care about. The information can only be seen as neat to someone like me, but it is not worth spending so much time thinking about, regardless of how many seeds Jon drops around them. It’s the least important thing in the comic compared to what anyone really comes here for. You know, like the interactions and relationship of a guardian with the child they’re watching over and guiding in life and how it might affect one or the other before and after a job is done, something Jon is good at showing when he needs to. The lore is barely even a window dressing worthy of acknowledgement.

Come to think about it, worldbuilding is almost the same to me, really. Sure, it’s important enough for some growing investment in a story, but it’s mainly just there to set up the setting and location. It’s not something to be invested completely in when there are character arcs and storylines with said characters to care more about. It gets even dumber if a webcomic is a slice-of-life or even sitcom that may or may not be placed in a fantasy world, like Las Lindas. It never should’ve gotten so up in its own ass about wanting to be about something, yet refusing to go in any straight direction like all of the Knighthood crap it decided to shove in later on. It most likely would’ve been fine if the people writing it just played to its strengths of being an interpersonal slice-of-life story about people on a farm needing to work through their pasts and issues on a farm, if I’m allowed to be so crude about it. Just something that definitely sucks the more you look back on it.

You are right about guardian lore and it is extremely annoying. I really hope that after the current arc we FINALLY get SOMETHING close to a revelation. And if the revelation is disappointing, I don’t blame anyone but Jon for taking so long with it. But also you’re right that it technically doesn’t matter that much, like the Guardian Lore isn’t that important all things considered aside from few vague gestures, like Seth’s letter or Persephoni’s grandkids. I don’t think outside of those instances, it’s not blatantly robbing away from character interactions.

I do agree with you on how Las Lindas got way up its own ass, but also I would argue, since Las Lindas is infamous for never having any conflict, that the Knighthood stuff should make things a little bit less monotonous, but I think at the end of the day it should have been kept to its own comic. All the other Las Lindas comics are not necessary in any way shape or form, Knighthood would have helped us to get to know about the history of this world without taking away from the character arcs of the main comic.

Stephen King’s statement about worldbuilding however, it is hypocritical for him to say it because dude’s writing is fucking filled with worldbuilding, his stories constantly drop easter eggs that only hardcore readers get, and he has many times gotten up his own ass about how his world is this “grand connected universe” and as a result has sometimes downright destroyed elements of dozens of stories at once, like the ending of Dark Tower. I know that it’s Twitter, and Twitter’s character limits have destroyed people’s sense of communication and created multiple previously unknown to science learning and behaviour disabilities, but Stephen should have actually elaborated his statement, because now he looks like a fucking idiot, much like 99% of Twitter whenever they say ANYTHING about ANYTHING, no exceptions.

Well-written world is like good eyesight, you can see everything that is necessary to see, but the best focus is on the main story. A comic with bad worldbuilding is like tunnel vision, you have no idea what the world is like and there are too many unnecessary mysteries the creator will never get into, or if they do, they’re only explained in a 50,000 word LiveJournal page that nobody will read. A comic with distracting worldbuilding like Las Lindas is visual snow syndrome, there’s too much going on and it is difficult to really focus on the main story.

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adventuresinclientservice · 2 years

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Why don’t I quit?

Around this time of year I do a quick accounting of the number of people who have visited Adventures since I began writing it in 2010: give or take, there have been about 26,000 visitors, most of whom I assume became at least momentary readers, if not repeat visitors. The year before it was 24,000 visitors; the year before that, about 20,000. Some growth yes – it certainly beats diminishing returns -- but a long way from explosive.

Viral I am not.

There are two ways to view this: 1) “That’s a fair number of people, Robert; congrats;” or 2) “That really sucks, Robert, you ought to stop.”

It’s a little like the sales of The Art of Client Service: 20,000-plus copies sold is, by most measures, a respectable number, especially for the third edition of a specialized business book with a far from inexhaustible market. But then I think, would it be acceptable to another business book writer, say a Michael Lewis or a Malcolm Gladwell? Anything but. It is, by their standards I imagine, a failure.

So why do I keep at it? Why continue writing? Is it worth it? I’ve been at this for twelve years, I will be 72 next month; after nearly 40 years in this business, isn’t calling it a day long overdue?

That’s one voice in my head, marshalling compelling, hard-to-ignore arguments. But there is another voice, equally strong, making counter-arguments, so I sat down for a quiet reckoning of sorts. I made a list of reasons – the cynical among you might consider them rationalizations; I think otherwise -- that ran pretty long, but as I think about it, five emerge:

Connection. There’s a saying, “You don’t use it, you lose it.” Adventures is my way of orienting myself in, to, and with the business, a means of keeping my head in the game. Posting once a week, which I try to do, provides structure and discipline. I get to “try on” ideas, one of which, the optimist in me proclaims, might serve as the spark that ignites a book idea. It hasn’t happened yet – there have been any number of false starts -- but one can hope.

Conversation. Adventures has served as connective tissue to former strangers I now consider friends, people like Rick English, Ken Ohlemeyer, Jenny Plant, Eva Van Krugel, and a host of others I otherwise would not have had the pleasure of engaging with. On occasion an unsolicited note from a complete unknown validates my efforts. In a moment of doubt, I receive a message from a former client, Seth Romanow, “I enjoy reading your posts.”

I am not reaching millions of people, but I am reaching one person at a time; that person matters, at least to me.

Conviction. This doesn’t happen often, but Adventures grants license to set the record straight. For example, I am a proverbial heat-seeking missile when Peter Theil suggests students no longer need to go to college, or Charlie Rose reveals himself to be the despicable sexual predator he is, or people pervert and abuse LinkedIn,, or when the liar-in-chief embarrasses himself yet again.

When someone or something elevates my temperature to a boiling point, I know where the frog lives.

Condolence. The hardest thing to write is a tribute to someone who has departed to the big advertising agency in the sky or elsewhere in the unknowable firmament. The most rewarding thing to write is that tribute.

I never envisioned Adventures as a place to recognize the departed, but I am glad it has evolved into this role. Most of the people I celebrate are colleagues. A few are friends. With a handful, I simply am a fan. I am honored to write about all of them.

Continuity. Truth be told, the number of visitors to Adventures is abysmal, an embarrassment, maybe both. I’ve lost count of the number of times I seriously considered giving up. But then I think of the friends I’ve made, the opinions I’ve shared, and the people I’ve remembered and celebrated, and, above all, the help I tried to provide.

Perspective is a funny thing. I step back from the on-going, occasionally discouraging toil of writing Adventures in Client Service and ask,

“Is it worth it?”

Answer: “It most certainly is.”

Twelve years on, I am grateful for your readership of what’s on the page today or what’s come before, anything that is enticing or useful enough to warrant your attention, and when you’re so inclined, a comment in return.

See you next week.

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maliwarm · 6 years

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Early Winter

A monster drabble and huge thanks to @shellalana for donating to my Ko-Fi! ♡

A cacophony of sound floated through the streets of the Detritus Ring; streets once drab, but now lined with bright lanterns and strings of lights of all colours, giving them an abundance of vibrancy and colour. Yet more colour flowed through the streets like trickles from a river in the form of dancers clad in exotic finery. They glided through the crowd, movements a mixture of elegance and the typical raunchiness many associated with the Ring’s denizens; clothes flowing where they weren’t form fitting, and jewellery jangling with every gesture. Chatter from many mouths and upbeat, drum-heavy, music blended into a singular murmuring din. It was loud, but the exciting, infectious sort of loudness that one couldn’t help but be swept up in. A myriad of scents swept from the marketplace, carried by the wind. Meats and spices of all varieties, sweetness and floral fragrances, gunpowder and animal musk. The people living here celebrated loud and proud, temporarily stripping away their constant worries regarding the fate of the universe to simply have fun and revel in the fact that they were still here, still alive.

Three figures observed the festivities from a distant rooftop, the din and brightness dulled to far more bearable levels from their position. The elder pair stood tall and solemn, each with a rapier by their side. The hilt of that belonging to the woman in blue was carved into an ornate butterfly, matching the tattoo above her hip. The hilt of the woman in red’s sported a more simple, but no less elegant, design of twin curled protrusions akin to a bumblebee’s antennae. Accompanying them sat a young girl on the very edge of the roof, contentedly sucking on the lollipop lodged in her mouth, kicking her legs to and fro above the yawning void between her and the ground without a care in the world. She harboured a passing curiosity for the bustle below, having never seen such a lively place before. Compared to the base, this looked, heard, and smelled much nicer.

“Everything looks so small from here,” she exclaimed, beaming around her treat. “The people look like little ants! Don’t you think, Foxy? Diana?”

“Focus,” Foxy - the woman in red - said, voice soft but tone firm. She obeyed, wide eyes swivelling away from the marketplace and onto the pair to give them her undivided attention. She received a brief smile and praise before Foxy’s expression and tone both became sober again. “Good girl. You have two targets tonight.”

“Two?”

The other woman who could only be Diana nodded, taking the reigns of the briefing. Her open skirt swished quietly as she turned to address the girl, arms folding across her chest.

“Both of them are massive thorns in our organisation’s side, severely disrupting our plans to bring a new order to what remains of the universe. The first is Reyna Valeria, otherwise known as the Valkyrie. While her efforts to make this lawless cesspit a more liveable space are admirable and have borne some fruit, the people within - herself included - are dangerous. If left unchecked, the combined might of those living on the surrounding asteroids may rally under her call and very well make an attempt to kill everyone in our organisation.”

As of right now, the Valkyrie had only managed to hit a few of their more minor bases. But it was still too much damage for their liking. Even without accounting for her ability to gather a sizeable army, she knew far too much and needed to be silenced. NESTS wasn’t ready to be dragged completely into the light just yet. When they were, it would be on their own terms, not on the whim of some nosy pirate.

“The second is the traitor, K’.” The girl’s obliviously happy sucking of the candy in her mouth ceased, her magenta gaze sharpening. That name was one she knew almost as well as her own. Any lingering interest in the marketplace was now lost entirely. All of her focus was trained solely on Diana and her words. “The one you were created to nullify.”

Foxy nodded. “That’s right, We’ve finally tracked him down. And as luck would have it, he and the Valkyrie have been sighted together numerous times. In fact, we’re led to believe that they’re working together closely.”

“Which brings us to the reason we’re here in the first place. Look over there.” The girl’s eyes followed the direction of a blue gloved finger, eventually homing in on a rather unique pair, even amongst the odd characters that comprised the Ring’s denizens. There was a short woman with a spike-studded jacket and bright red crest of hair that reminded her of a chicken, carrying herself with an air of complete confidence. And there was a boy by her side; much taller, and wrapped in all black leather, with hair the colour of snow. He tilted his head, responding to something the woman said, lips ticked up into a lopsided smirk as his shoulder was given a playful slap. His was a visage she recognised. It was one that stirred the beginnings of anger. Hate. “Can you see them?”

She nodded once, eyes still trained on the pair, drinking in every gesture and movement of their lips.

“Good. Your orders are simple: kill them both.”

The lollipop crunched audibly.

The girl stood, dragging the now bare plastic stick between her teeth. It slipped from loose fingers and tumbled over the edge of the roof, quickly lost to darkness. A puff of frigid air rolled off of her slender body, hair gusting outwards with it. Blue swept through it in a wave, erasing and replacing all traces of the natural strawberry blonde.

“Understood,” the Anti-K intoned, voice and eyes now emotionless.

“Hey,” Reyna whispered, nudging K’ in the ribs. A massive grin was slowly stretching across her face. “The boy at the art booth’s eyeballing you.”

He paused, the greasy, bacon covered, meat on a stick he’d been gnawing on hovering near his lips for another bite, to frown back at her. “What? He looking to fight or something?”

She noticed his shoulders squaring. His jaw clench. Uh oh.

The necklace she’d been admiring was dropped back into the stall owner’s waiting hands. With her own now free, a hasty palm snagged K’ by the arm before he could move, a disbelieving little laugh escaping her. Jesus, her son was either way too dense or just itching for a fistfight. Probably both. She should have grown used to it by now, but it was honestly unbelievable how stunted he was in terms of human interaction in general, let alone romance. She and Maxi would have to sit him down and educate him properly sometime; finally acclimate him towards living and acting like a normal freaking teenager instead of continually indulging in this prickly recluse nonsense.

“No, musclehead! He’s looking at you like a lovesick puppy.”

A silver brow arched. K’ twisted his head, eyes sweeping the booths until he found the one in question. Amongst the haphazardly placed array of sketches and paintings decorating the booth proper was a pair of warm brown eyes framed between a shock of messy hair barely kept back by a sweatband. There was a large sketch pad held up to the other boy’s nose, one arm moving with hasty pencil strokes. When he glanced up, realising K’ had caught on to the fact he’d been staring, he visibly jolted. He stopped sketching to pull the pad up higher, shielding his face. It didn’t hide how red his ears were. K’ blinked. Huh.

Shaking to his shoulder pulled his attention towards Reyna once more. That grin was back in place. “He’s cute. Why don’t you try talking to him?”

“Mmn,” was the halfhearted mumble of a response as he went back to tearing through the last of his skewer, seemingly disinterested in the prospect. She was right, that guy was kind of cute... but it would be too weird to try hitting it off when he knew his damned mother would be watching, drinking up every moment. Plus, he was still awful at flirting; he’d botch things for sure.

She must have sensed his train of thought. Or at least the first part. The hand around his arm slackened, falling back to rest on her hip. Brows were raised in question. “I could leave you on your own for a while if you want?”

K’ shook his head, walking in the opposite direction of the art booth. Reyna fell into step after a couple of beats, sighing her disappointment. She glanced over her shoulder at the boy at the art booth. He’d lowered the sketch pad shield to reveal his distraught. She offered him a pitying look and a helpless little hand gesture before turning back to focus on what was in front of her.

“Maybe later. I wanna look around some more first.”

Her lip twisted wryly. “You mean find that jerky booth Pendles mentioned?”

“... Maybe.”

“Figures.” Orange eyes rolled towards the heavens. This boy and his stomach...

“Whatever.” He gave her an eye roll of his own, licking his now meatless skewer clean. It then found a home in a nearby trashcan with one of those trademark lazy wrist flicks he usually employed when throwing his shades at people. His tongue went to work at his fingers next, lapping up whatever grease had dripped onto them. “Why are you so insistent on playing matchmaker all of a sudden anyway? Biological clock screaming for you to get grandkids already or something?”

He sniggered when her fist found his shoulder, smirking down at her. She actually looked somewhat miffed by his words. It felt nice to be the one doing the playful needling to get a rise rather than the one on the receiving end for a change.

“Hilarious. But no. Figured it might do you some good to talk to someone not living on the Favour for a change; maybe even make some friends that aren’t a walking tank twenty years your senior.”

“Closer to ten, actually,” K’ corrected, swiping his grubby fingers on his chaps. From the corner of his eye he could see her jaw unhinge with disbelief, mouthing what the fuck. The corner of his lips twitched upwards. The big guy sitting right on the cusp of being thirty must not have been a topic these two discussed during all their gossiping. “He’s not actually as old as he looks and acts; ask him when we get back if you don’t believe me.”

Reyna shook off her astonishment, brows furrowing further. She made a mental note to interrogate Maxima sometime; unravel some of the secrets of this enigma of a man who said much but gave away little. “Ten years then. Whatever. Point is, you really need to get out and talk to more people your age.”

That garnered an abrupt mood change. His nostrils flared with a loud sigh.

“That’s a nice sentiment and all, mom, but what would I even talk about? I don’t know shit about whatever’s popular, or trendy, or whatever; I can’t connect with them on that level. I could talk about how to kill someone with just your fists, but that’s more liable to scare them off.” K’ scoffed, turning his head to the side to spit disdainfully after his mini tirade, temper flaring as it usually did whenever he brushed upon the subject of his years in NESTS’ clutches. “Just forget it. I’m not normal, I can’t-“

A sudden sense of danger made his flames rankle beneath his skin. His head jolted up in time to witness something glistening slicing through the air straight towards them.

Acting on pure instinct, his gauntleted hand snapped out, snagging the projectile midair with some slight aid from translocation’s syrupy blanket settling over him. His grip shuddered at the moment of impact; a testament to the strength and speed behind whoever had thrown it. Unease stirred at the sight of an icicle - long and wickedly pointed - clenched between his red plated fingers, stopped mere inches from spearing through the lens of Reyna’s eyepatch.

It didn’t snow on this chunk.

Reyna went cross-eyed looking at that pointed tip until K’ crushed the icicle to fragments with a harsh squeeze. A shiver ran through her body, unbidden, at the near death experience. If he had been a fraction of a second too slow, she would’ve had a sizeable hole in her eye and brain right now...

“Th’ fuck was...” she trailed off, eye sliding to peer at something - someone - approaching beyond K’s shoulder. His own eyes followed suit.

Both of them could see a lone girl, young and beautiful in a doll like way, brushing past the now panicking festival goers. There was something downright ethereal about her appearance. Slender, with skin that was alabaster pale. Eyes wide and magenta, childlike, yet distinctly lacking emotion. And her hair... It was a soft, light blue and seemed to be moving of its own volition, fanning out then settling across her back at regular intervals. Tiny diamonds with no known source glittered around her body at random, winking in and out of existence.

No, not diamonds, Reyna realised. Ice crystals.

There was no time to puzzle over the phenomena, nor the girl herself, when she slammed a platformed heel against the ground. In the same instant, that strange blue hair snapped out like peacock feathers. A sudden gust of sheer cold air swept through the marketplace, forcing mother and son to shield their faces from the gale or else become blinded. Ice bloomed in the wake of it, swallowing everything in a crystalline coat. Buildings, stalls, people... it didn’t discriminate, encasing everything it touched. The only ones spared such a fate were the two of them and the girl. Slowly, they both lowered their arms, taking in the sudden winterised landscape, peppered with people-shaped sculptures.

“Jilted girlfriend?” Reyna quipped, already sliding her pistol from its holster.

K’ shook his head, straightening into his fighting stance. “Never seen her before in my life.” Her appearance did make him frown, however. Dismissing the colours, the girl’s choice in clothing seemed somewhat similar to his own. That struck him as odd. It also fed a little more into his general unease, though he couldn’t place why he was feeling as such. “But with powers like that, I don’t doubt she’s one of NESTS’ lackeys.”

“Heh. I was wondering when they’d finally take the fight to us.” Reyna’s grin was all teeth. The pistol was loud in the suddenly dead quiet space when she primed it, aiming it at the girl. Finally it seemed like her efforts in rooting the bastards out were paying off. If she kept it up maybe the head of it all would finally reveal themselves and she could cut it off; finally give her son some piece of mind and the chance to move on with his life. Her voice raised and hardened to address their new foe. “Your organisation picked the wrong person to fuck with, kiddo. I don’t take kindly to anyone who thinks it’s fun to mess with my home or my people.”

Her words weren’t acknowledged. Instead, the girl took several long, quick strides forward. Her gait gradually evolved with every step, becoming longer and smoother until a gentle shushing noise reached the pair’s ears. Skating, they realised, now noticing the blades that had appeared beneath her boots, helping her to glide along the frozen ground, straight for them. It seemed she was intent on a fight.

K’ clicked his tongue, taking three long strides of his own forward. Pitting ice against fire was stupid; the winner here was pretty clear cut in his eyes. Had NESTS lost the plot, or was there more to this girl than met the eye? Never mind that; there would be time to puzzle it later. For the meantime, his right fist rose in a sharp upwards motion, brilliant burning scarlet bursting to life around it in a thick coat. Briefly, the flames hung in the air when he removed his hand, packed together densely, before a spinning kick sent them careening towards the girl like some dangerous sort of football.

In an unprecedented turn of events, rather than dodge, her skates left the icy ground in a jump. Arms raised, she twirled with all the grace of a professional figure skater, long hair swirling. The blades at her feet sliced K’s flames to harmless ribbons. She landed perfectly, matching his shocked expression with that same blank one she’d sported since her appearance. Not a single hair on her head was singed.

One leg snapped up high in a kick of her own as she allowed her own momentum to continue pushing her forward. A jagged hunk of ice bloomed at the apex of the kick and was sent hurtling towards K’. Swearing, he threw up his right arm protectively, bidding more flames into existence. They adopted the form of a messy sort of shield. Most of the ice melted upon contact with it. His cheek, however, was sheared by one of the outermost spiky protrusions before it, too, melted into water and steam.

Unnoticed until now, Reyna had crept towards the side of the clashing kids, waiting for the best opportunity to strike. While the girl was rebalancing after that kick was as good an opening as any, she figured; it’d be stupid not to seize it. Gunfire rang out, the pistol’s familiar thrumming jolting her arm straight to the bone with each successive shot. Powers or no, this kid was sure to bleed like any other when hit by a bullet - K’ had unintentionally proven that to her on a few past missions gone awry. And the faster they took her down, the faster they could interrogate her about the people she worked for. With that in mind, most of her shots were aimed at her limbs and mostly non-vital spots around the torso.

The girl hadn’t fully set her other foot back on the ground again when she raised a palm in Reyna’s direction the moment she heard the gunfire. A thin, translucent pane of ice materialised moments before the bullets’ impact. Every single one hit it with a dull click and fell, ends flattened notably, then bounced across the ground, useless. She let the shield dissipate to twinkling powder, putting on a fresh burst of speed to avoid the continuing onslaught of bullets, still making a direct beeline towards K’. He stopped thumbing at the gash on his cheek and widened his stance, arms up, intent on meeting her head on. Except she turned sharply at the last possible second, skates screeching and flinging shredded ice into his eyes. While she left him in the dust cursing and clearing his vision, she kept her new target firmly within her sights. The bullets were slalomed past, or another of those thin ice shields created to take the blow when she miscalculated where one was being fired next.

There wasn’t a spare moment for Reyna to reload her now empty clip. The girl cruised by her harmlessly after she dived to the side to avoid an icy dagger to the chest. One of the frozen festival goers was on the receiving end instead, audibly shattering into bloody shards upon impact of the weapon. Reyna grit her teeth. The first unnecessary casualty... She rolled upon landing with a grunt but couldn’t get up, instead slipping and sliding uncontrollably along the ice until her back hit one of the stalls.

She’d barely found her feet and was planning on reloading when the girl was in the midst of skating over for round two. Reyna sucked in a harsh breath, leaning backwards to avoid a high upwards kick that went above the girl’s head - flexible little shit; just like her son - and was tipped with those wicked looking skates. The blades were as clear blue as the surroundings and sharp as all hell. One of the collar flaps of her jacket split cleanly in the wake of their path, the rent in the leather a sizeable one. That leg came down again like a slender axe and Reyna was only barely successful at dodging it, too. She was all too aware of her uncertain footing; that one misstep would mean her doom. Evidently, so was the girl, as her assault didn’t stop for even a moment. A hand stretched for Reyna’s face, clad in a yellow copy of K’s own gauntlet, but far less scuffed. Biting cold billowed out from the palm, the magnifier within her eyepatch picking up tiny snowflakes forming within it. She didn’t have enough room or time to dodge this attack

“Shi-!“ Something dark blurred by, snarling, and the girl yelped, high and shrill; the first noise she’d uttered since this encounter. Reyna only barely caught sight of black leather smearing by before the girl was violently hurtled to the side.

She and K’ tumbled gracelessly, shoulders and hips smacking the ice hard enough to bruise as they struggled against one another. Their hands grappled at each other, squeezing hard when they connected and clawing wildly at faces when they didn’t. Using his weight to his advantage, K’ kept her firmly pinned beneath him. Though she struggled valiantly, she couldn’t gain an inch of freedom. Her movements became increasingly more panicked when he started shoving their connected hands closer towards her face, his flaring to life with flame. In another first, there was now emotion in the girl’s eyes, the dancing tongues of his powers reflected in their magenta depths: fear. She inhaled sharply. Then exhaled a cloud of frigid air directly into his face. K’ yelled out in surprise, flames sputtering. He released her hand to palm blindly at his face. His eyelashes felt frosted shut; he couldn’t fight like this!

Capitalising on his weakness, the girl grabbed him by the shoulders and in a surprising show of strength, managed to flip him over so now he was the one pinned. Her knees squeezed against his ribs to keep herself in place. Crackling filled the air as a fresh icicle formed in her hands, as wickedly long and sharp as the one she’d thrown to announce her presence. She raised it above her head, eyes locked onto her target: the open front of his jacket.

Hands of flesh and steel clapped just above the tip. K’ grunted, squinting through barely open eyes and straining to keep the construct from closing those final few inches to pierce his chest. The girl strained back, shoving down harder. There was a determined knit between her blue brows. The tip wavered between them, but ultimately kept inching downwards. It prodded his pectoral. A tiny bead of red swelled up to kiss it. His heart hammered wildly beneath his breastbone, blue eyes widening at this turn of events. Unprecedented as it was, he was losing this battle of strength.

Desperate, K’ clamped down harder and shoved the icicle sideways. Caught off guard, the girl’s grip around it fumbled. As did her knees at his ribs. K’ bucked until she was dislodged, squeaking in pain at the collision of her chin against the hard ground. He planted a boot against her side to shove her fully off, rolling onto his stomach to try and crawl back onto his feet. He could see Reyna aiming an evidently reloaded pistol and increased his efforts to rise so he could be out of the way, giving her a clear shot. He’d managed to tentatively find his knees when a hand snagged him by the belt. His teeth clicked together painfully as he was yanked back down, grunting and sprawling flat on his stomach across the icy ground. He looked over his shoulder in time to see an icy dagger sink into his ribs from the side.

At first there was just the sharp pain from the initial moment of impact. But then she shoved the weapon in deeper, until her fist touched his jacketed side. That was when the coldness began to invade his body, sudden and biting, as she used the ice dagger as a conduit to channel her powers directly into his bloodstream. He couldn’t even fight back, too startled and too overwhelmed by just how freezing it was to gather his own powers to counter hers. All he could manage was a few thin gasps and wounded noises as his vision darkened and body slackened. A full body shiver swept through him. He didn’t like it. So cold. Too cold. Like being shot with several dozen overdoses worth of the suppressant in his gauntlet. The blood seeping through his jacket exacerbated it; less frigid, but still a source of cold. Still bad. Had to move. Had to get away.

A gargantuan effort was expended trying to drag himself forward, hoping to get close enough for his mother to assist him. But he couldn’t get a decent grasp on the smooth ground, and the girl still latched onto him was extra weight dragging him down, so he ultimately went nowhere. Gauntleted fingers twitched weakly. Things were slowing - thoughts, breaths, heartbeat - and the surrounds were darkening. A gunshot sounded, duller then it should have been, followed by the harsh ping of metal hitting metal. The girl yelped and the hand at his side left. Her weight keeping him pinned followed suit as more bullets tracked her. No more ice slithered into his body, but the damage was done. He tried to focus on that bobbing crest of red growing larger with Reyna’s hasty approach. But in the end he gave in to the dark and the cold, eyes flickering shut as she slid towards him on her knees.

The girl skipped across the ice to avoid Reyna’s bullets, somewhat less graceful than before. Clearly, she’d been caught off guard, but she spared no gloating thoughts for that detail, and only stopped firing when Little Miss Frost was a decent distance away. Teeth found one of the fingers of her glove, yanking it off with one swift motion. Her hand shook as pressed her fingers against K’s neck, eyes straying from the girl - dangerous as that was - to gauge his condition. His pallor was off, pale with hints of blue at the lips. The usual elevated temperature of his skin was completely absent, more akin to a cooling campfire than the living heater she’d come to know over this past year. She couldn’t feel anything but that cold radiating off him. Already it was starting to numb her own fingers, making her question if there had been a faint flutter of a heartbeat just now or if it was a mere product of wishful thinking. Teeth found her lip, biting down just shy of being hard enough to break the skin and draw blood.

“Come on, starburst...” she hissed, words wavering. “Don’t do this to me.”

Blue in her peripheral grabbed her attention in an instant; jolting the gun up, eyes moving for a clearer view. She fired. Frozen shards and diamond dust exploded in the air a few feet away. Already, more was gathering in the girl’s hands. Reyna grit her teeth, removing her hand from K’s neck and pushing to her feet. Damn this fucking kid... damn the people she worked for! She tugged her glove back on then palmed blindly at her communicator, already on the move. Her current location flashed on-screen, the coordinates pinged to her Rogues with no other message. They’d all come running to her aid in a heartbeat, it was simply a matter of fending off the ice doll long enough for the arrival of whoever was closest at hand. Whoever it was, she hoped they were fast; there might still be enough time to save her son.

Using that thought as fuel to keep her going, Reyna widened her steps, pushing them outwards and allowing her boots to slide along the ice rather than go against it, in such a manner it mimicked roller skating. It was awkward initially and probably made her look a right fool, but using this bastardised skating method, she was able to move along the ice with considerable more ease and speed than before. She was already bearing down on Miss Frosty, her scowl letting the brat know that any scrap of kiddie gloves she’d been wearing up until now were well and truly off. She meant business. Small and broken as it was nobody - nobody - was allowed to mess with her family again!

That same blank stare matched her glare. Yellow-clad hands slammed against the ground. A few feet away, a jagged lance burst from the icy ground. More followed in a line, erupting upwards in much the same manner. Reyna dropped low, a gloved palm smacking the ground to help make a hasty turning manoeuvre to avoid them. Frigid air kissed her cheek in passing. Sharp tips bloomed to life from the corner of her eye, growing to stretch for her face, but falling short as she slid off to the side and out of reach. The pillars didn’t track her progress, instead marching on in a straight path.

She wobbled back to her feet, leaning in with her momentum and to the side to speed back up again and go for a wide, gradual turn. Once the brat was back in line with her sights, she resumed her improvised skating gait. The next time those gauntleted hands rose, the pistol did too. A bullet pinged off the planting of the glove harmlessly, but it made the girl flinch all the same, the concentration for whatever attack she’d been planning broken. She actually began to retreat when Reyna’s assault didn’t stop, more bullets ringing against the metal protecting her hands. The plan was to hit something vital in those gauntlets and see if her powers went haywire like K’s did without that (assumed) suppression method in pristine working order. But it was difficult when the more vulnerable parts of it - the black, ribbed underglove peeking through all the yellow segments to allow joint movement - were so small. And moving targets to boot.

The second empty clip of this encounter was ejected. She didn’t have many left on her person, having not expected what was supposed to be a peaceful night turn out this terribly. Her expectation of things going awry during this festival was a gang war or something similar; a cryokinetic had never factored into the equation. She was overwhelmingly ill equipped to deal with this situation, especially with her son - her best bet at keeping the playing ground even - reduced to a bleeding, maybe even dead, popsicle.

Rather than reload, Reyna reeled her hand back during the final stretch of her approach. She lashed out, pistol whipping, the moment she was within arms’ reach of the ice doll. Swears tumbled from her mouth, grip on the gun almost lost, when it jarred against one of those protective thin panes rather than that pretty skull. For something so flimsy looking it was durable as all hell. She slid on by, rubbing the soreness from her arm. When no retaliatory attack occurred, she twisted awkwardly and was met by the sight of the girl’s retreating back. Brows furrowed. Why would she leave now? Even with her gun, they both knew Reyna’s chances of prevailing in this battle were slim to none; she was the slower, weaker one in this tussle, it made no sense to...

K’ was still laying prone in the middle of the plaza.

Sure enough, he seemed to be her target, every glided stride towards him long and full of purpose. Was he the true target of this assault then?

“Sonnova...!” Out of habitual reflex Reyna raised her left arm, going to fire off a protective shield of purple to cover him.

Except nothing happened. She hadn’t brought her shield booster along, figuring the pistol and her walking blowtorch son would be enough protection. Stupid! Frantic hands fumbled around her jacket for another clip. Only two left... And her Rogues were still no shows. Shit.

After a few jittery attempts that failed miserably, the gun was reloaded. She spun in place and lined it up, using the tech in her eyepatch to focus on her target. Inhale. Focus. Aim steady...

The girl fell flat on her face, crying out. One of her skates burst into twinkling shards, leaving a useless, jagged protrusion sticking out from the sole of her boot. She hadn’t expected it to actually be made of ice too... but the end result was still good, regardless; she’d fallen short of K’, tumbling gracelessly, and was turning back in her direction, rubbing her nose. A thin trickle of red oozed a slow path to her upper lip.

“That’s right,” Reyna growled. “Eyes on me, you damn squirt. Gotta finish your dinner before you get dessert; you ain’t done with me yet by half.”

Irritation drew the ice doll’s brows down. Her cheeks puffed. The useless skate crumbled to twinkling powder and a fresh one took its place, ice slipping through a previously unseen slit in the bottom of the boot and taking shape, equally as sharp as its predecessor. She took a moment to swipe away the tears that had gathered at her eyes as a result of her fall, and smear the bloody nose onto her sleeve, pushing back into a stand. Reyna readied herself as the gentle shushing of skates filled the air once again. In her pocket, the comm device continued its intermittent flashing. She turned, intent on leading the ice doll further away. Orange eyes darted about the frigid surrounds. The only people shapes she could pick out were sculptures frozen mid movement; all blue, without a trace of steel or orange to be found. Time... she needed to buy more of it.

Awareness bled in slowly for K’. With it came the cold, making him shiver and moan. Pins and needles popped beneath his skin, flames sluggish, but not snuffed. A bloom of heat was amassing in his core, gradually melting away the lingering ice in his system and bringing an iota more strength with every second that passed. It felt like he was full of lead, every breath shallow and laboured. His left pinkie twitched. Feeling was returning, though the numbness persisted around his chest and one cheek.

Bad. Don’t like that.

Greedily, he clung to the spreading heat - that felt nicer; good.... better... - relishing in it even as he continued to be wracked by shivers. He drifted in and out to the sounds of gunfire and some strange cracking that made his hackles raise, even while in this semi-conscious state. The cold lingered, but it didn’t seem as biting with every new stirring of awareness. With its retreat, more feeling returned, and with sensation came pain; various dull aches and one particularly sharp, insistent spot on his torso that throbbed steadily. Silver brows furrowed, mouth twisting into a grimace. It was annoying, making it harder to indulge in the comforting darkness creeping back in.

A scream made him grapple harder for consciousness rather than fight it. It was a voice he knew but couldn’t place right this second, thoughts still too hazy in regards to anything that wasn’t pain or cold.

With a monumental effort, he eventually managed to force his eyes open. Clear blue. Red. Fuzzy. Swimming in and out of focus. The red moved when he forced his fingers to curl. Darken... Blink, sharpen. Steam drifted from his lips in time with every breath. His eyes, half lidded, rolled up. More blue. More shapes. People? Blink, sharpen. Red on the blue, faraway streaks and dribbles in nonsensical patterns. More blue, brighter and opaque, chasing brown with a tiny beacon of red on top. Blink, blink, sharpen, chasing away another wave of darkness. A harsh bark of gunfire, silver muzzle flashing in time with it. Bullets and ice, clashing in a deadly dance, the ricocheting harsh in the otherwise still air. Blink, sharpen. A crest of dyed hair, bedraggled from sweat and combat. That trademark jacket sporting sizeable tears, red seeping through the largest gash in the front.

His head swam, everything shifting dizzily as he forced himself to move; to push up onto trembling hands and knees with growing urgency. His side continued its angry throbbing, pulsing in time with every heartbeat. His teeth wouldn’t stop clicking together. Continual shivers made it difficult to move.

This is nothing. You’ve been through worse. Move.

He planted a foot against the ice. Then a second. The dizziness heightened. He swayed but didn’t fall. Every heavy step was more of a stagger that threatened to devolve into a fall. He didn’t. Somehow. But even if he did, he would have forced himself up again. His eyes remained trained on the blood trails, doggedly following their path to their source.

Reyna couldn’t move any further. There was a wall at her back and the alley entrance blocked, preventing any plans of escape. From this distance, the girl looked like little more than a strange tendril-heavy shadow blocking the light every time her hair did that eerie fanning out movement. She kept a hand pressed against her chest, stemming the flow from a sizeable cut as she tracked her adversary’s slow approach. There were more, but smaller, welts, and what felt like developing bruises all over her body. For such a skinny thing, Miss Frost certainly packed a mean punch.

Skates grinding echoed through the small passage, the lithe little grim reaper clearly eager to finish her off. Reyna didn’t raise her gun. Why bother? It was useless now, the last of her bullets lost trying to cover her retreat into this unfortunate dead end. It hadn’t exactly helped her much to begin with, anyways, the only thing to show for her efforts a few minor dents in those yellow metal gloves. No perforations nor blood, save her own, unfortunately.

Twin icy daggers materialised in the girl’s hands, frost crackling as they took shape. Those magenta eyes weren’t so blank now. Reyna felt some small sense of accomplishment at having cracked that cold exterior, making irritation bleed through, even if she still wasn’t certain which, exactly, of her words or actions had prompted it. Her grip on the pistol tightened, coolly holding the girl’s gaze. She wondered if she could get one last hit in before she bit the dust... Maybe break that pretty little nose... Hopefully her Rogues would have more luck. Assuming they arrived on the scene in time. Reyna’s arm tensed, drawing back in preparation to strike for what may just be the final time in her life...

And then K’ blurred into view a few feet in front of her.

Joy at seeing him alive and moving switched to worry when he stumbled. He still looked worse for wear, panting raggedly, skin pale, and shivering noticeably. Yet he managed to catch himself before his face could kiss the concrete. Boots planted stubbornly, pivoting him in place to face the still encroaching threat. He thrust his right hand up, palm extended. The left grasped his forearm bracingly. His shoulders tensed, orange wisps flickering between his fingers. Those magenta eyes widened, the girl attempting to backpedal. They both knew the attempt would be futile. K’ reached deep inside himself, gathering every scrap of energy he had left, forcing the twisting warm presence within him together into one large mass and then diverting it all towards his arm. It began to tremble as the pressure within mounted. The red metal encompassing his hand turned redder still, the air around it warping.

A scream tore from his throat - not so much one of his fierce battle cries as it was of pain - as flame roared out in a rolling blanket, large and blistering hot as a dragon’s breath. He caught a brief flash of blue-white before the alley was completely filled with his fire, ice rapidly growing into a thick protective dome over the girl mere milliseconds before the flames’ impact. He’d also seen her manage to finally skid to a stop and crouch, arms protectively thrown over her head, before the ice swallowed her up. A second scream filled the air, competing with his own and the deafening crackled snarls of his flames; high with terror and slightly echoed.

Steam billowed, filling the alley and spilling outwards in a dense cloud, as fire and ice struggled against one another. Reyna shielded her face, squinting through the cracks of the protective barrier of her arms. It was difficult to see anything beyond the steam and the living wall of angry roiling crimson. But peering between the gap of K’s arms, looking right at the centre of where the fire was being directed, she could catch slivers of blue amongst all the red and orange. It was some sort of ice cocoon or dome, she thought. At least from what little of its form she could make out. It shifted as much as the fire, rapidly melting in on itself under the heat, then hastily growing another thick sheet to patch the area over for fortification. Frankly, it was impressive that it was holding up at all, and it spoke volumes of just how extensive the ice doll’s strength and control over her abilities must be. But Reyna had to wonder just how long she could keep it up. She wasn’t even in the line of fire - was in the coolest, safest possible spot in the alley - and the heat was still oppressive as all hell. Holed up in an igloo or not, that girl was sure to cook.

A small eternity passed - seconds? Minutes? - before the impasse came to an end.

Flames ceased pouring from K’s hand, as abruptly as if a tap had been turned off. The thick collection of tongues still in the air lingered for a few seconds before eventually wisping away, leaving only lingering heat and a sparse handful of tiny, but stubborn, fires licking at the cement and brickwork. The ice dome, now fully in view through the thinning steam, was still intact. But only barely; it was a misshapen mess, sagging in places and melting heavily. Slowly, Reyna lowered her arms. The girl, if she was still alive, didn’t emerge from her crumpling shelter at all. K’ also didn’t move from where he was standing, still keeping his hand outstretched and braced by the other. Though another tremble ran through his entire body and he began to list to one side the longer she watched, his knees buckling.

Reyna was by his side in a heartbeat, jamming her useless gun into its holster on the way there, barely managing to catch him around the waist before he fell. His lanky body leaned against her heavily, barely able to support itself. The gash on her chest complained but she ignored it; compartmentalised it to deal with later. “Jesus, Kay!”

She fussed, swiping his sweaty fringe away and cupping his face to assess his state. A tiny noise that could have been a protest croaked from his mouth between uneven gasps but he didn’t shove her away; couldn’t, rather. He grit his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. Trembling fingers rose, attempting to claw at his chest but fell short, dropping weakly by his side. She wasn’t too sure what was wrong, but he’d obviously messed himself up seriously pulling a strenuous stunt like that after being severely hypothermic and out of commission only minutes earlier.

“You idiot fucking kid... Hey. Hey, look at me.” She had to tilt his head to grab his attention, and even then his focus was skewed. When he forced his eyes open the pupils were dilated, his stare hazy. “Just hang on okay? Stay awake; that’s an order.” She knew he hated those with a passion; with any luck his temper would help him stay conscious.

Reyna readjusted her grip, slinging one of his jacketed arms across her shoulders. He bit out a small moan as his injured side was pressed against her, the blood-tacky leather sticking unpleasantly. Gentle assurances were murmured, the arm at his waist pushing forward insistently to get him to move alongside her, even as her own injured chest shrieked its grievances. Every one of his steps was heavy and uncoordinated, threatening to send them both crashing into the pavement if she wasn’t vigilant. They began to edge around the sweating ice dome to exit the alley, Reyna sparing a nervous peek over her shoulder once it was behind them.

The girl was alive. Unburnt. But she remained curled up and trembling, hands wrapped protectively over her head with her back to them. Her shoulders hitched with sobs, just loud enough to be echoed in her dilapidated shelter and carry to Reyna’s ears. Her chest twisted hearing it. Jesus... for all that power, she really was just a kid in the end. Not for the first time, she couldn’t believe just how messed up NESTS was. Child freaking soldiers... Her grip on K’ tightened.

Reyna marched on, resolute, leaving the girl to cower.

Spurred into action by the screaming, Diana and Foxy had ceased surveying immediately and charged into action. Rooftops were vaulted without so much as a pause in their stride until they dropped into the alley the noises originated from, boots thumping against the cement. They were quick to rise, taking hasty strides towards the sweating lump of ice. The pinching in their expressions relaxed some when the body within was still very much alive. Though the state of her was worrying. Blue skirts and red cape pooled around their ankles when the pair crouched by the open mouth of the ice construct.

“Kula,” Diana called out softly. There was a brief pause in the shaking shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re here now.”

Slowly, hands were lowered from head. A pale cheek peeked over a shoulder. Tears freely ran from the girl’s eyes, leaving tracks on her skin that began to frost over during their downward journey. She choked out a sob. The ice around her crumbled, shards of all sizes clattering against the cement. On hands and knees she scrambled over, hurling herself into outstretched arms and burying her face into the crook of the woman’s neck. Diana murmured gently, rubbing soothing circles against her back. Kula’s trembling began anew, more and louder sobs ripping from her throat.

“He,” she choked out, fingers fisting the back of Diana’s top. Snot joined the tears, wetting her shoulder, though she didn’t complain, still holding Kula close. “Sc-scary. He was so scary! It was so hot! I-“

“Ssh. I’ve got you.” Diana pressed a kiss into the soft blue locks, pressing the girl closer against her. She continued to snivel, trembling and whimpering. “You’re safe now.”

Foxy chewed her lip, eyes shifting from Kula’s trembling frame to catch her fellow’s. “Shall I catch them?” she inquired softly. At Diana’s nod, she rose. Two steps and she was by the huddled pair’s sides. She stooped, pressing a kiss of her own into Kula’s hair. “Good girl... You did very well.”

A fresh sob made her heart squeeze. By her side, her fists clenched, watching those slender shoulder shake harder. She was going to make that pair pay for every single one of those tears being shed. Foxy’s coat flared with her abrupt rise and turn.

“I’m off,” she announced brusquely, jaw squared.

“See you at the rendezvous.” Diana watched her departure through lidded eyes. Come back safe they seemed to say.

Gloved fingers dragged across her bare shoulder in parting and promise. Then Foxy was gone, blurring away to begin her pursuit.

#Bite’s writing #shellalana #Starburst AU #Battleborn #Battlebarn #King of Fighters #crossover #*ragdolls and dies* I’m so sorry I took so long on this Mizzy; I had a million ideas to sort through #I hope it’s at least sort of worth it and doesn’t suck completely >->;;#Reyna Valeria #K’#angry son #Kula Diamond #Foxy #Diana #and a gratuitous Shingo Yabuki cameo right near the beginning #so um. nobody warm up their extremities and/or move around harshly when hypothermic because that’ll send cold blood straight to your heart-#—and you’re likely gonna suffer an arrhythmia among other unfun stuff. like this foolish goblin boy just did

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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

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

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

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

Words: 20k+

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

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

——–x——–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

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

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

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

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

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

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

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

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

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

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sorry.’

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

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

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

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

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

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

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

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

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

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“St…aay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

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

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

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

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill it.

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

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

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

Ah, so they can both heal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

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

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

A sad display, indeed.

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

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

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

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

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

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

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

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

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

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

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

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

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

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

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

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

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

‘Don’t do that.’

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

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

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

‘You’re sick.’

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

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

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

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

You snap out of it before that can happen.

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

And you fucking enjoyed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue flames are to be feared.

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

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

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

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

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

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor hates it here.

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

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

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

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

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

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

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

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

“Don’t...go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember, shame is useless here.

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hawks.”

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

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

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

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

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

“No more questions.”

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kill her, Raptor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anger.

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

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

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

How dare they.

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

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

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

Raptor wants to get out of here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

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

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

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

“Let’s help each other forget.”

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

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

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

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

And it makes your walls clench.

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

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

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

He was laughing.

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

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

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

“Want more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn him.

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

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

Good.

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

“Inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

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

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

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

Just use me.

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

Just use me however the fuck you want.

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

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

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

Exhaustion…

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

Warmth...full...sleep.

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

“Get up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

But any sort of shame?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to leave.”

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

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

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

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

Well then…

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

Breath in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open.

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

Targets first spotted at 12:50

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

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

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

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

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

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

Subject: Raptor

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

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

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

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

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

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outivv · 3 years

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I was just watching Demon Slayer while eating my lunch, and I got an idea. So what if The Boys' s/o is a demon, but they're like Nezuko; they can shrink and enlarge at will, but they aren't immune to sunlight so they may rely on The Boys to carry them in a makeshift backpack. They can also absolutely kick ass if necessary, and they're insanely stronk. But most of the time, they're smothering The Boys with kisses, headpats, etc. because they really like The Boys and want them to know it.

Synopsis: demon slayer au, where y/n is like nezuko

Warnings: mentions of fighting, and minor cursing.

Game/ anime: genshin impact and a slight bit of demon slayer.

Characters: zhongli, Diluc, childe, kaeya, and dainsleif

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: yes! Demon slayer has been on my mind recently, so yes! I really want to see the movie but haven’t gotten around to it for some reason? I don’t know, but this was honestly really exciting to write because demon slayer is probably one of my favorite animes. So I really hope you enjoy, and have an amazing day/afternoon/night! (Now I’m imagining the boys as demon slayers :’))

— zhongli —

To say the least zhongli is hiding you from xiao. So he took you in, and now he’s stuck with you.

In the first few months of your relationship(?) he found out that you can shrink and enlarge at will. Which to say the least was surprising. Literally gave him a heart attack when you suddenly enlarged to get something on top of the cupboards.

Later that same day he found out you hate sunlight. Like... hate it. He’d do anything in his power to make you comfortable, and when you both need to go somewhere in the day he’d try to shield you from the sunlight as best as possible. Then you suggested that he’d carry you in a little backpack, and it’d be easier because you could shrink... so he did that.

You probably got caught by some treasure hoarders, thinking that the makeshift backpack you were in had something valuable. When you jumped out and throat punched one of them though, they found out just how wrong they were. Zhongli watched in awe at your strength before realizing that it would be smart of him to step in and help.

He finds it oddly adorable how you can go from absolutely destroying a ruin guard in one punch, to smothering him in kisses and love. He doesn’t mind it no, but he finds it kinda hilarious. I mean you went berserk and now you’re nuzzling up to him saying how much you live him. Kinda makes him just... sit there. Like ‘wow... ok... I mean... I want the affection but... wow...’ he’s absolutely smitten honestly.

— childe —

Now in childe’s scenario I’m going to say either you were a failed experiment gone right by dottore. Or he found you in the forests of snezhnaya. (I’m gonna leave it up to you to decide) either way, childe said you could be valuable to the fatui, and now here you are... in a relationship with this bastard amazing guy.

I feel like he’d know about your strength, and growing/shrinking abilities. Mostly because I think because one of the reasons that they kept you was so you’d be of some sort of use to the fatui (at first! Childe grew to care and love you. Lowkey a sucker for these kinda fics so... I’m adding it into my headcanons.) they’d have to see what you could do exactly. For their safety, and the safety of others, they’d need to know.

I think he’d be kinda iffy on the whole ‘carrying you in a backpack’ thing. Mainly because it’s always snowing in snezhnaya so it’s always cloudy. But when you travel he’s going to have to suck it up and carry you.

I think you’d often go with childe on missions, because 1. He’s your boyfriend. And 2. He’s the one that decided you should join the fatui, so in the harbingers eyes he’s the one that has to take responsibility. (I feel that that made y/n sound like a dog I’m so sorry :’)) so he’s seen you in action before, and every time he does it never fails to take his breath away.

And you fighting countless foes on the battlefield, and then showering him in your love makes him feel proud, and kinda cocky. Like you, a future harbinger candidate, just took down a bunch of foes... and now your going to give him all of your affection. He just feels extra special when you do that, not going to lie.

— kaeya —

He probably found you doing some commissions, he was just taking a stroll around mondstadt and stubbled upon one of the people the knights wish they could recruit. Complete coincidence.

When he goes to walk over to you fighting a bunch of hilichurls, and sees that you’re taking them down in one hit, he’s slightly impressed. I mean they’re just hilichurls after all. At first he challenged you, and said you should fight the ruin guard at the thousand winds temple, and when you rose to the challenge and completed it with ease he could see why the knights wanted you so badly.

Of course he’d “stumble” upon you more and more, and then you know... you start dating (I’m not in the mood to write a while backstory for how you got into a relationship but just imagine it as a “he kept challenging you and then fell in love with you” kinda thing? I’m not sure but yeah :D)

Whenever you fight, whether it be sparring with someone, or a commission, and kaeya has the honor of seeing you he’ll announce to everyone that “hey that’s my s/o!” And he expects attention and kisses afterwards from you.

He knows the routine by now, you fight, or do a commission, just something that involves fighting, and then he gets a bunch of attention. Kaeya is no fool. He knows.

When he found out that you hate sunlight, and that’s why you do most of your work at night, he was kinda surprised. He honestly just assumed you were like rosaria, and were busy during the day so you did your... “community work” at night.

When he finds out you can shrink and grow he’s just kinda like “oh... well that’s new. Cool. But new.” And then asks you what else you can do that he didn’t know about.

I don’t think he’d need to take you anywhere in a makeshift backpack. And if he needed to he probably couldn’t due to knight work you know?

— Diluc —

He’s seen you a few times at angels share, only late at night of course but he’s still seen you around. He’s been kinda crushing on you from afar so he didn’t know much about you. Only that you’re a high ranked adventure from somewhere other than mondstadt. Eventually though he did ask you out, and now you’re dating. Congrats!

When he saw you fight for the first time I can guarantee that his first thought was ‘where the hell are they from!? What were they feeding them holy-“ he’s in absolute awe at your strength. Diluc isn’t much of a guy for sparring, but now he’s inclined to try to spar with you. He’d probably break something but it’d be worth it in his mind.

After you fight like three ruin hunters, and you run over to him smothering him in love and affection, he’s taken back. Like he had to make sure you were the same person that absolutely destroyed those ruin hunters. I mean he’s not complaining... he probably found it attractive honestly. (You thought childe would be the one to find you destroying some enemy and then giving him all your attention, attractive??? I mean he does... but no! It was Diluc all along!)

He’ll take note that you don’t like sunlight and then will be very adamant on getting you a backpack that you can fit in. Like it’s one of the first things he does after finding out.

When he finds out you can shrink/ grow though? He’s confused. He’ll act like it was normal but will then suddenly say “what was that.” Very sternly. Like he demands and answer.

— dainsleif —

You’ve been with dainsleif for a while, both as he travel companion, and his s/o. So I think he’s knows for a while that you’re insanely strong, don’t like sunlight, and and grow and shrink.

When he found out you were really strong he was kinda taken aback but went with it and didn’t really ask you about it, more passively asked you how you got so strong.

Whenever you come up to him and kiss him, and just generally shower him with love and attention, he’ll gladly take it. Like full smile on his face, because just like Diluc he thinks that you beating a ruin hunters ass and then giving him all your love is attractive.

When he saw you shrink and grow he did the same as Diluc, except didn’t demand an answer. He was just like, “so... care to explain what that was?” He’ll understand if you don’t want to but that doesn’t make him any less curious.

You both travel a lot, so he’d have to carry you in a makeshift backpack everywhere. He doesn’t mind it, he wishes you could be walking right beside him but he understands that you physically can’t. Cause sunlight will turn you to dust, and he loves you too much to be selfish and let that happen.

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littlemisslol-fic · 2 years

Text

The Silent Opera

Chapter Seventeen: Duet

Summary: In a world populated by Soulmates— people drawn together by wordless music connecting them to their destined other half— Varian is an anomaly. He is Songless, someone without a Soulmate of his own. He makes due with the cards dealt to him, used to being the castle oddity by now, but when an interesting blond takes up residence in the castle, he can’t help but be drawn to him.

Hugo, on the other hand, is horrified to find that not only is his Soulmate a palace brat, but that Varian doesn’t hear him back— meaning Hugo is trapped in a one-sided bond. When presented with a horrible choice between completing the theft Donella had sent him to do, or taking a frightening step into vulnerability, Hugo finds himself at an impasse he just might not be able to charm his way out of.

And then politics get involved.

Notes: Here we go! Here's part two of the TWO PART FINALE The final chapter! Thank you so much for sticking with me through such a massive project, and I hope it satisfied 💕💕 I never could have guessed how amazing a reception I was going to get when I started this fic (and fun fact! The first ever concept page was written in October of 2020! It's been a bit!) and I am completely blown away by it! I am so, SO grateful for everyone who took the time to come hang out with me in my little sandbox!

Hugo wakes up and immediately feels like shit.

To start, his throat is fucking killing him. Not like a hangover, or like being sick—this is almost a burning sensation, he’s almost convinced he’s swallowed a match whole. It’s uncomfortable at best. He cracks an eye open; confusion bleeds in at the sight of large windows and high ceilings. Where the fuck is he?

He sniffles, wincing at the feeling it causes in his throat. Seriously—his face fucking hurts, he hasn’t felt this horrible since the time he got caught in Galcrest and had the shit soundly smacked out of him…

Oh. Wait. Wait fuck, he’d gotten his ass beat by Landis. Landis, who had then stalked over to Varian before Hugo had passed the fuck out for a bit. Meaning he had no idea what happened next. Fuck.

At first he wants to panic—wants to spring from the bed and fight literally anything that moves until they bring him his Soulmate—but the soft trill of the Song in his thoughts stills his hand. It’s not… not scared, not even worried. It sounds more relaxed than it had in months, really. Like a happy dream.

Hugo groans. Everything’s spinning, his face fucking hurts, his throat feels like he swallowed barbed wire: it’s not the nicest way to wake up. Honestly the time he got run over by a cart felt better than this. He shifts—and it’s then that he registers a weight by his side. He looks down and his heart immediately melts at what he sees.

Varian, dead asleep, snuffles at the movement. He’s starfished out, limbs akimbo, looking more like someone threw him on the bed and left him there. He’s still wearing his torn up, dirty wedding robes, which fan out around them both. Snores whistle out from between his buck teeth, loud and ugly and in sync with the Song. It’s adorable.

Hugo sucks in another breath through his broken nose. It hurts a lot, but Hugo’s had broken noses before, he knows it’ll heal. Eventually. Doesn’t make it any better, though. At least the pain had been… sort of worth it? Somewhat? No one’s dead and everything’s seemed to have settled down, so it’s a win? Maybe?

Hugo’s frantic heart settles down then. Moving sounds like hell; he’d much rather stay in bed, thank you. Besides, if Varian’s here and not half dead in a carriage headed to Socria then things must have at least worked out somewhat, right? With the way the room swims it’s impossible to tell.

That or they’re healing Hugo up so his execution hurts more. It’s like a seventy-thirty split.

He groans and lets his head fall back. Time slips away—Hugo definitely dozes off for a bit, but for how long he has no idea. Everything’s soup, time, colour, sensation; it all bleeds into a mess of swirling impressions of things. It’s a pretty good little catnap. He’s fucking earned it, thank you.

When he opens his eyes again, Rapunzel is there. She’s sketching in a notebook, quiet save for the scritch of her quill on the paper. The sun’s low in the sky; he must have slept right through lunch. Varian’s still passed out next to him. It seems neither of them got any real sleep last night. They’re both playing catchup.

Rapunzel looks up from her notebook and smiles when she sees Hugo awake.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks him. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a small cough. A glass of water appears in the princess’s hand, passed to him—Hugo downs it within seconds and it’s the best drink he’s ever had.

He coughs again after drinking, but the thick pain has started to loosen in his throat. “I—ugh, I’ll live.”

Her face strains at the cough. It’s just a twitch, but enough that Hugo can see it.

“What happened?” he asks carefully. Part of him doesn’t want the answer, fearing the worst, but the small smile on her face breaks that tension rather quickly.

“Landis attacked you,” she explains. It’s so frank. “Varian managed to stop him, and he’s been escorted to his rooms under guard. He won’t be troubling you again… either of you.”

Hugo’s face must show his disbelief. Rapunzel chews on her bottom lip.

“He’ll be sent home soon,” she carries on. “We managed to talk things over with his father; now that we had his… episode to hold over them, Socria agreed to sign the treaty to secure his return to his father. Since he attacked one of our castle employees, after all.”

Hugo’s tired mind takes a second to process. “So that means…?”

Rapunzel smiles, something almost conniving. “That means the wedding is off,” she says. “And because you were obviously hurt while defending our royal engineer, my father’s agreed to offer you a full-time position as a reward… once you’re feeling better, of course.”

That gets Hugo’s attention. “You mean I could stay?”

She nods. “If you wanted to.”

Of course he wants to—but he’s not sure if he should. How would Varian react to having to deal with Hugo all the time? What would Donella say?

Oh, hell.

Rapunzel must see the way his face shifts. “You don’t have to choose now,” she assures him. “Focus on healing up first. Then you can figure out what you want to do, alright?”

Right. Right, that sounds good. Deal with it later. He settles back into the pillows and tries to keep a straight face when Varian unconscionably smooshes his face into Hugo’s arm. Heat rises in Hugo’s cheeks, and he has to bite his lip to keep from making a snarky comment when Rapunzel looks like she’s about to coo. Hugo refuses to acknowledge it. He won’t do it. He’d die first.

Rapunzel only smiles and holds up her notebook, showing off a scarily good sketch of the two of them, Varian and Hugo, curled up around each other and dead asleep. It’s like staring into a mirror. Maker be damned.

The princess closes her book and settles back into her chair. She worries at her bottom lip again, taps her pencil against her notebook. Hugo kind of hopes she won’t blurt out whatever is obviously on her mind—he wants to go back to sleep. Rapunzel finally pops her lips and sets the book down meeting Hugo’s eye.

“I do have to thank you,” she says softly.

Hugo only shrugs—she shouldn’t be thanking him, not with his cowardice—but she presses on. “No, I do. Varian wasn’t… he wasn’t doing well. Not with everything happening. It had been so long since I heard him laugh. Eugene and I, we tried to get him to cheer up, but nothing ever worked. It was like my little brother was slipping away from me.” Her eyes are distant. “But then you showed up, Hugo. And he laughed again.”

A warm feeling settles in the space under his heart. The Song curls around it, soothing. Rapunzel bites at her lip and looks out the window.

“I really did think I was going to lose him.” Her voice is so quiet, like she’s scared to admit it. “In one way or another. But Hugo, you brought him back to us. So I do have to thank you for that.”

“And for taking a hit to the face so you could threaten a sovereign nation?”

She smiles at the joke. “That too.”

Varian makes another loud snore. Hugo can’t help the soft smile that spreads across his face at the sound. He closes his eyes and shifts to let his unbruised cheek rest against the top of Varian’s head. The Song drifts quietly between then, like a timeless dance.

He hears the fabric of Rapunzel’s dress shift. Hugo cracks an eye open and watches as she stands from her seat.

“You didn’t miss your chance,” she says quietly. “I’m so proud of you, Hugo.”

There’s a heat in Hugo’s cheeks and a wetness in his eye. Rapunzel, bless her, doesn’t comment again. Instead she gently pulls the covers over the two of them and takes her leave, offering a small wave.

Hugo doesn’t let himself reflect on what she said, not yet. For now he just wants to enjoy the feeling of Varian pressed up against him again, like they had those rare times before things had gone insane. It’s nicer than Hugo wants to admit, cuddling together without a time limit. Existing without the constant timer ticking above their heads.

It’s something he can see himself getting used to.

He drifts off again, though this time only for an hour or so. This time when he wakes up, Varian’s sitting up and groggily rubbing at his eye. It’s night now; the only light comes from flickering lamps around the room and the moonlight streaming through the window. The Song croons in Hugo’s ear, bright and awake. It’s beautiful. Silvery moonlight catches on Varian’s hair, making it shine. The braids Hugo remembers are long gone; honestly Varian’s hair looks like a mess—but he looks well rested and content. It’s a good look on him.

Varian sucks in an easy breath and stretches. His arms raise high; one of his sleeves is missing, how the fuck—

“Hm,” Varain sighs. He tilts his head and blinks when he sees Hugo’s awake. “Hugo?”

Hugo offers his most casual smile. “Heya, sweetheart—ahk!”

His voice cracks when Varian suddenly dives at him, wrapping Hugo up in a tangle of limbs and frantic kisses. The onslaught isn’t painful, if anything it’s the opposite, but it certainly takes him by surprise. Varian doesn’t even seem to register his surprise. Instead, the alchemist sets about coating Hugo’s face in light kisses, mumbling to himself between each one.

It’s barely coherent, but Hugo catches snippets of thank the gods and almost fucking died—which. Right. Right yeah that definitely happened, didn’t it? Varian’s desperate screams aren’t going to be chased away from Hugo’s memories anytime soon, that’s for sure.

“I’m alright,” Hugo soothes. His everything fucking hurts, but he’ll be okay. That’s close to okay, right? “No need to freak, sweetcheeks, it’s just a little rough-up, I’ve had worse.”

The Song dips—fuck, was that the wrong thing to say?—and the hands on Hugo’s cheeks grip a little tighter. Fuck, maybe that was an inconsiderate joke, did he offend Varian somehow? Making light about his rough past, the one that had dissuaded him from Singing? Shit, he’s only been awake for a minute and he’s already fucking up—

But then, then, a horrible sound rings out. Varian sniffles, the Song bursting in a wave of ReliefFearAnxiety that threatens to bowl Hugo clean over. Hugo’s heart cracks at the sad noise, but it absolutely shatters when Varian grabs him into a desperate, tight hug.

“I love you,” Varian’s voice is thick with tears. “I love you, I love you, I love you—”

“I love you too,” Hugo soothes. The Song does an interesting little flip when he says it. “It’s okay, goggles, everything worked out.”

“He almost killed you!” Varian’s voice is muffled against the skin of Hugo’s neck. Ah, okay. Something tells Hugo that all that adrenaline in Varian’s system has run out: meaning there’s nothing left safe for the remnants of the terror he’d felt. Great. Okay. So this is the residual panic left behind. Love to see it.

“Shhh, love.” Fuck, this really isn’t his strong suit. “I’m right here.” The lull of Hugo’s voice drifts through the quiet of the room. Varian’s hand smacks against his shoulder.

“You were supposed to be gone,” Varian mutters, “long gone, out of harm’s way! What the hell were you doing?”

“Looking for you!”

Varian’s Song snaps in frustration. “But that wasn’t the point!”

Hugo only offers his widest smile. “It worked out, didn’t it?”

The alchemist looks ready to throttle him. Hugo keeps his innocent expression—and eventually it works. The alchemist draws his hands back but his stops as a glint in the moonlight catches his eye.

A band of cold gold is still on his ring finger. Varian scowls at it, tugging it off his finger and holding it in his palm. It sits there, unassuming and so, so terrifying—Hugo swallows thickly at the sight of it.

“You know, I bet we could sell that,” he mumbles. Anything to break the tension. “Get a nice price… go on vacation.”

Varian’s nose curls. Before Hugo can register what’s happening Varian tosses the ring, throwing it as hard as he can into the dark depths of the infirmary. Somewhere in the distance it makes a sharp ting as it hits stone. Good. A bitter part of Hugo hoped it fucking broke.

The alchemist huffs, crossing his arms and flopping back down into the cot.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Yes, it worked out. By the skin of our teeth, and a bunch of idiot’s luck. I can’t believe it actually worked out.” Varian huffs. His arms lift up, hands making grabby motions. “Now come snuggle; you owe me.”

Hugo can’t help it: he laughs. “You’re the boss,” he agrees, settling back down onto the bed. Varian tugs him close with a tight grip. It’s not constricting, more grounding, and Hugo can’t help but sigh and curl into it. His head settles on his Soulmate’s chest. He can hear the way Varian’s heart still pounds with the energy of it all. It syncs up with the Song. Thin fingers reach over and wrap around Varian’s hand; he sighs at the contact and gently grips back.

It’s quiet in the infirmary. Hugo lets out a small noise when Varian presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “I love you,” Varian murmurs into his hair. His heart skips a beat, stuttering over the sudden wave of emotion that swells at the words. Hugo swallows thickly.

“I love you too,” he says.

It’s a lot more than that. But the sheer overwhelming wave of affection is so large there’s no way for him to describe it. He’s at a loss for words—but thankfully the Song speaks for him. Varian’s smile is serene in the moonlight and it’s perfect.

Everything settles into a lull. At long last, they can just relax, catch up on lost rest and lost moments. It’s more than Hugo ever dared to ask for. The world fuzzes back out, shrinking down to the thump-thump of Varian’s heartbeat and the sift Song between them.

Hugo smiles and lets himself settle into the arms of sleep and his Soulmate both.

————— ♪ —————

The lab is a shitshow, but that’s not really unusual. Someone had swept up the majority of Hugo’s mess and cleaned up the last of Varian’s experiments. Ruddiger’s cat tree had been moved, packed away for the move. The lab seems so clinical now, all the personality scrubbed away.

All that remains is the last of their plants. Hugo can’t help the small pang he feels at the withered little frame of Seventeen. There’s not much left of the others, save for a few empty pots and a bunch of dirt.

And Seventeen.

Hugo’s hands are gentle when he picks up the little plant. It flops, but it’s not as bad as he’d feared last time he saw the tiny thing—half dead, tossed so carelessly to the ground like it didn’t mean anything—either way, it’s still not great.

Varian’s hand comes up next to his, helping to support the beanstalk.

“We can fix him,” Varian says quietly. “He just needs a little love.”

The Song flows between them as Hugo snags an empty pot. Varian fills it with dirt, leaving a small hole. Hugo carefully slips Seventeen in, roots first, and pats the dirt down.

Varian’s hands are sure as he inserts a thin shim into the soil. The two of them are quiet as they work, the delicate silence content. Hugo barely breathes, watching with rapt attention as Varian slowly begins to heal their little plant with soft, patient touches.

Thin twine winds through Varian’s fingers as he ties Seventeen to the support. It seems to be just what the doctor ordered, even if it was so minimal effort. The plant’s already looking better, standing upright once again. Hugo finally remembers how to breathe.

Varian smiles at the plant and wipes his hands off onto his pants.

“See?” he says. “Just like new.”

Hugo runs a careful finger along one of the leaves left behind. It’s pale, but there’s still green in it. “Just like new,” he parrots.

“Exactly. Now stop being a drama queen about it.” Varian boops him on the nose with a teasing finger, laughing when Hugo scrunches. He nearly sneezes from the touch.

Seventeen isn’t drooping anymore. With time and patience, he would grow again. The thought gives Hugo a bit more hope, a bit more confidence. He’d been honestly worried for the little thing, knowing that it had nearly been killed, so easily dropped and left to rot. Not that Varian would let it go that easily, but the threat was there. Hugo gently touches one of the leaves, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

Varian hums as he gives the plant a little water. Butterflies flutter in Hugo’s stomach as the Song matches the tune. Once he’s done Varian leans over to slouch against Hugo.

“Just give it time,” he assures. Right. Time. He could do that.

They had all the time in the world, now.

————— ♪ —————

Eventually, as it does, time passes. Everything whirls past Varian in a blur of unpacking and dissembling the wedding. It’s a pain in the ass having to set his things back in their places, but at least he gets the chance to organize and get rid of some older things. Like a really fucked up version of spring cleaning.

It also helps that Hugo’s accepted the official assistant position Freddy made for him, meaning that he’s moving into a room nearby in the staff quarters.

(“What about your mom? Won’t she worry?”

“Nah, she knows I found you. Encouraged me to tell you and see where the chips fell. She’ll be fine. Might come and visit someday.”

The thought of meeting Hugo’s mother makes Varian’s heart skip a beat.

“I’d like that.”)

So they get to move their stuff together. Not that Hugo has much, but Varian sets that right quickly. He does so love wasting Fred’s money. It’s easy to ship off a few requests to tailors and toolsmiths and stationary sales, among other things, and gather enough that Hugo’s got quite the start for himself in his new room. Varian’s rather proud of himself, thank you. Even if Rapunzel had to help him.

But it’s… going. His things are starting to find their homes, and he and Hugo find themselves content to jump between bedrooms for now. They’re still keeping things to themselves—just until Landis is gone.

Varian sighs and scratches the back of his neck. The summer sun has come at last, cutting through the thick clouds and bathing Corona in warmth. It’s nice to be outside, headed toward Xavier’s with yet another raw metal order form, though Varian’s willing to take his time today. The ocean breeze is coming in, salty and cool on his skin. Though Hugo’s still caught up with getting settled, Varian can’t help but miss him. The Song trills in his ear, ever present. It’s a wonderful reminder.

He’s close to Xavier’s, barely a block away, when a familiar, lumbering figure steps in his path from a nearby alley.

“Hey, kid,” Cyrus says. For a second Varian’s dumbfounded—the man had taken off a week ago, the day of the wedding—and yet here he is, trying to talk to Varian of all things.

“Uh, hi,” he says. Part of him wants to back up. To run. The alarm bells do start to ring, enough that Hugo’s Song lilts in a question; Varian forces himself to calm. Cyrus wouldn’t hurt him… right? He wouldn’t do that to Hugo, at least. “Can I… uh, help you?”

“Got someone who wants to meet you,” Cyrus crosses his arms with a wry smile. “Just a moment of your time, is all.”

Ah. Fuck.

“Okay…” His words come out a lot less confident than he’d like. But he still follows Cyrus into the alley, cursing himself the entire time. This is how he gets murdered, he literally just got his Soulmate at long last and now he’s going to fucking die—

There’s a person at the end of the alley. She’s leaning up against the wall, picking at her nail bed with a thin pocketknife. Holy shit, he’s actually going to get murdered. He didn’t even do anything this time!

Her long, white hair shines in the muted sunlight. A pointed face turns to him; the skin around her eyes wrinkle with the appraising expression that crosses her face at the sight of him.

“This him?” Her voice is strong, commanding. Cyrus leans against the wall behind Varian nodding.

“It is indeed,” he says.

“Good, good.”

Varian lets out a muted yelp as the pocketknife launches from her hand, perfectly thrown. It narrowly misses his face, embedding itself in a barrel right behind him. The alchemist’s soul leaves his body as he watches it shudder. Somewhere, Hugo’s Song goes tight with concern.

“So you’re Varian.” The woman’s voice is judgmental, like Varian’s something to be parceled through. A mystery to be solved “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot, I must say.”

Hear a lot? From who—oh. Oh shit.

“And that, um, makes you Donella, right? Hugo’s mom?”

Her face splits into a smile. He must have done something right. “Sharp. I like it.”

She has to bend at the waist to meet him eye-to-eye. It’s just a bit embarrassing. Varian doesn’t say a thing. He’d always known meeting your in-laws was awful, but this is a bit much. Donella must see whatever she’s looking for, good or bad, because she stands back up.

“So. You’re Hugo’s Soulmate, hm?”

Varian swallows. It still makes butterflies flutter in his stomach to hear it out loud. “I am.”

Her face does a weird pinch at that. “And you’re the one who got my kid into so much trouble.”

Ah. Right okay, shit. “I… it wasn’t intentional.” Varian can’t meet her eye. She’s right to be upset; Hugo had been threatened, thrown into jail, and nearly murdered—all from being around Varian. It’s not a great look.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Varian winces. “Things didn’t go according to plan.”

Cyrus coughs behind him. Donella’s eyes shift, looking over Varian’s head. “Right. You gave Cyrus the crown and told him to break Hugo out. Why?”

“I couldn’t let him take the fall for me,” Varian has to keep his voice from cracking. “I knew that my… that Landis was going to get him killed one way or another. During the ceremony was the only time he’d be able to escape without getting caught.”

“The ceremony.” Donella’s voice is carefully calm. “You were willing to go through with it to keep him from getting hurt?”

Varian nods. “And I’d do it again. I—he—I didn’t know he was my Soulmate for so long. I only just found him; I didn’t want to lose him right after.”

Cyrus coughs again. Donella’s green eyes roll before they glare at her companion. “Just as mushy as you said,” she sighs. “Fine, fine. He’s alright.”

Varian’s high shoulders start to drop at that. Donella flicks at the fringe of his hair, her face breaking into a small smile.

“I guess you’ll do,” she sighs. “No one else was going to take Hugo off my hands.” Her voice dips lower, grumbling. “Not with that fucking haircut, at least.”

That makes Varian frown; he can’t tell if she’s joking.

Donella only walks past him. Cyrus falls into step behind her. The woman doesn’t even look back, only offering a half-hearted wave.

“I want an invitation to the wedding,” she calls behind her as she goes. Varian feels his face light on fire at the implications, but before he can pull himself together to reply she’s gone. Fucking thieves, all of them just disappearing once they were done with a conversation. It had taken years for Rapunzel to break Eugene of the habit; Hugo had barely even begun. Varian can’t help but sigh. Suddenly so much of Hugo makes sense.

But he’s also heard enough about Donella to know that being alright is about the highest compliment she’ll give.

Varian finds his way back out of the alley, carefully searching for her. He knows that she’ll be going for the castle, for Hugo, but he’s not worried. It’s obvious he’s just gotten a shovel talk, in their own special way; it’s kind of sweet, really.

But he still has things to get. Hugo’s Song is light and airy. Everything is as it should be. The sun is high, the day is young, and the air smells like lilacs. Varian, for the first time in nearly a year, has hope for his future. A future of his own making, a future with Hugo. Choices of his own.

And, if he hurries, he might be able to catch Hugo’s face when he realizes who’s come to visit.

Wonderful.

————— ♪ —————

Landis is expedited from Corona only a few days later. It had taken well over a week for the treaty to be amended, constant arguing and wrist-twisting aside. Things like trade agreements didn’t just get switched around, after all.

But Rapunzel had been absolutely vicious. Varian had only caught snippets of it, content to hide away from the courtesans who insist on giving him their condolences that his fiancé turned out to be a murderous asshole, though even then he can’t quite escape the rumors.

(“To shreds, you say?” he asks. Hugo nods, toying with a pencil. Varian laughs, imagining it.

“Yep,” Hugo pops the p, “apparently the ponce’s in shit. Socria is borderline begging to keep the deal, but Corona’s holding it over their heads.”

“Good.”)

But still the day comes when Landis is due to be sent home. Rapunzel tells him he doesn’t have to go to see him off, tells him that if he wants to leave it to her he can, but something in Varian needs to see it done. Needs to see him gone.

So they join the group on the front steps of the castle, watching as Grand Duke Sevim Fountaine exits a nearby door, followed by a hefty amount of Coronian guards. The man looks tired, haggard. Something in Varian feels rather bad for him; it’s obvious that he’s ill, that age is catching up with him, and this whole debacle has taken its toll. But then Varian thinks about Hugo, about Landis’s hands around the blond’s throat, and he chases the guilt away. It had to be this way.

There’s another few guards who emerge. It’s all for show; Landis may be a big guy, but it would take a special kind of stupid to try anything today. One guard hands Sevim a set of keys on a ring, looking grim, while the others align themselves into two rows, making a perfect hallway of halberds and helmets.

And then out steps Landis, squinting from the sudden light. Varian’s jaw tenses at the sight of him. Hugo’s Song trills with anxiety. The alchemist doesn’t blame him; it had taken months for him to be able to look Rapunzel in the eye after their fight, and she’d gone easy on him. Hugo’s putting up a brave face, but the bandages on his still broken nose crinkle. He’s scared.

Varian slips a hand into Hugo’s. It’s enough; Hugo’s Song settles, and a thumb strokes along the back of Varian’s hand.

He turns back to watch as Landis walks down the line of guards, headed for his father and the carriage. Nigel and Rapunzel stand nearby, waiting. The two of them look grim, like executioners. Horrifying.

The Grand Duke stands tall as he’s escorted out, but it’s easy to see the weariness in his bones. It’s hard to feel bad for him. Varian doesn’t even try; instead watching as passively as he can as Landis is handed off to his father. It must be humiliating. Varian has a few terrible memories of being tossed in the back of a prison cart and berated like a naughty child—but from the other side, it does ring sweetly.

Landis takes one final look at the Coronan people. Varian knows he won’t be met by many friendly faces; the castle inhabitants are nothing if not fiercely protective of their own, and attacking Hugo was basically an attack on them all. Those cold eyes scan the crowd and eventually land on Varian, where they hold.

It takes everything in Varian not to break the stare. Hugo’s Song is tight with AngerProtectionAnxiety, but the alchemist only holds the Grand Duke’s gaze with a flat glare. Landis scans his face, searching. Whatever he’s looking for, Varian refuses to provide it. He won’t. Not anymore. Never again.

Nigel, next to Rapunzel, unrolls a large piece of parchment, clears his throat, and reads it out loud to the crowd.

“Regarding Grand Duke Landis Fountaine, Lord of Dorgoil House,” Nigel declares, his voice ringing through the castle. “Emissary for the Kingdom of Socria, heir apparent to the Grand Dutchy of Kaivell, son of Grand Duke Sevim Fountaine, nephew of King Fehnur of Socria. For crimes against Corona, her people, and her esteemed royal house, you are hereby banished, and will be delivered unto the possession of your father. If you attempt to return, you will be brought before the court of Corona, and sentenced as seen fit. Do you understand these terms?”

Landis doesn’t move a muscle, still staring at Varian. The alchemist doesn’t dare breathe—he won’t give Landis a single inch in this final battle of wills. Nigel’s voice cuts through again, harsher this time.

“Do you understand, your grace?”

Finally, Landis looks away. Varian slumps with the sudden relief and only just catches as Landis responds to Nigel.

“I understand,” he says. “And I accept these terms.” His gaze shifts back to Varian, scarily intense. “But there will be a time when this won’t seem like such a favorable outcome… and when it does, I expect to see you again.”

The hand in Varian’s grips tight. Hugo’s as tense as a bowstring next to him, halfway to lunging forward at the blatant threat. The Song rings with Hugo’s tumultuous emotions—but Varian squeezes his hand, and it settles once again. Huh. Useful.

“In that case, you and your entourage will be escorted to the border and seen on their way.” Nigel concedes.

He nods to some of the guards, who shift into position. Landis’s face darkens for a second more before he vanishes into the carriage. The Grand Duke’s father follows quickly, giving a brief thanks to Rapunzel for their hospitality before running with his tail between his legs. No one in Corona moves as they disappear into the carriage together, not a single cheer, clap, or wave as usually would happen with a dignitary. Instead silence, suffocating and thick, surrounds the crowd.

Their carriage driver cracks the reins of their horses, starting the carriage into motion and guiding it out of the courtyard; Varian stares at it without blinking until it finally disappears around a corner. Once it does, a massive weight raises off his shoulders at long last. He inhales sharply before letting it out in a long, drawn-out sigh.

Hugo’s posture slumps. It’s easy to see that they’re both feeling wrung out by the mere sight of that asshole; Rapunzel’s immediately ferrying people back inside to avoid having to address it, and to keep them from becoming the center of attention. Varian had dealt with that ever since the wedding was canceled. He’s over it, thanks. Which, at the end of the day, makes him grateful that it is over. At long last, it’s over. Hugo’s hand is warm in his. For the first time in a year, the future is bright.

As the dust cloud from Landis’s carriage settles, Varian lets himself breathe a sigh of relief.

————— ♪ —————

Life in the castle eventually returns to normal. There’s always some new drama happening, though it’s nothing near as crazy as what had happened the past few months. More around the usual tea—she said what, who did that—and the like. Hugo wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mostly Corona and her castle seems tired of the bullshit, and he can’t really blame them. He is too. There was a time when Hugo would have been shoving his way into the gossip—he’s always down for a good round of talking shit—but lately he’s just… content.

It’s been nearly two months since everything had happened. Varian and Hugo had finally settled into something that they could call normal—or at least, normal for them. Hell, they’ve even become public.

They’d expected some blowback. Or, well. A lot of blowback. From Freddy especially, since his chances of marrying Varian off to some noble fuck had soundly gone up in flames with the revelation that Varian did in fact have a Soulmate. There was a point where Hugo had started quietly sneaking provisions into a panic-bag under his bed, waiting for the day the old King got frustrated with his bargaining chip being taken away and decided to get underhanded. Hugo knows how to run, how much they’ll need to hit the border.

He spends the better part of a week going over the routes in his mind, constantly tossing and turning until Varian thumped against his chest and told him to stop worrying.

So, yeah, you could say they’d expected resistance—but hadn’t gotten any.

It’s arguably weirder than getting the rumor mill turned on them. But instead, the castle staff seems to take one look at the two of them together and collectively say …okay. Even Fred, the bastard himself, had taken one look at Varian and seemed to remember the crossbow—though it looked like he was about to shit a brick, he’d backed off. It also helped that Rapunzel was looming behind them in silent solidarity. Hugo really needs to make more princess friends.

And that’s it. Just casual acceptance. So fucking weird.

But at least it makes it easy. Especially now that Hugo’s cemented his place in the castle. People just kind of forget that he’s there.

Case in point, Hugo waltzes into the kitchen without a single care on this grand evening. The kitchens of the castle are bustling, chaotic and full of people—maids and cooks and kitchen helpers alike—so it’s hilariously easy to snatch a few treats from a nearby pan, shove them into a baggie, and bolt out the door.

The security in this place is awful. Hilariously so.

Lanternlight streams through the large windows of the castle. He weaves through the castle. Rapunzel passes him by, waving as she does. Hugo offers her the same—he can be nice today. It is her birthday, after all.

Everyone else is headed down to the courtyard for her party. This late at night the lantern ceremony is long gone, but there’s something else to follow that Hugo refuses to miss. Not when a certain someone is so excited for the show.

Hugo power-walks through the halls, careful of his cargo, and eventually arrives at a familiar door. He hustles up the stairs and shoulders the door open. The wind’s pretty calm tonight, which is good; Varian will fucking kill him if he drops their snacks.

He kicks the door shut behind him. The tower is the same as it’s always been, slightly chilly and windy, but overall pleasant. Out on their usual spot sits Varian, who turns and waves when Hugo makes an appearance. The Song drifts between them, bright and cheerful, but not without the slightest twing of impatience.

“You’re going to miss it!” Varian crows. “Hurry, hurry!”

Hugo can’t help but chuckle. “Simmer down, love,” he says, “you don’t want me to drop the goodies, do you?”

Varian only scoffs playfully, holding out his hands. Hugo passes him the little baggie and hops the safety fence without a care. He plops down next to Varian, looking out over the still water of the bay with a grin.

“I didn’t miss it, right?” That would suck, Varian had been so excited—

“Not yet, don’t worry.” Varian opens the bag and roots through it. “What did you get?”

“Couple of chocolate things for you, and couple of honey things for me.” Hugo leans back and tries not to feel smug when Varian lifts a chocolate tart from the bag with an excited, evil giggle.

“Perfect,” the alchemist says. Varian passes him the bag back and shoves his tart into his face without a care. Hugo reaches in and grabs his own. The taste of honey is thick on his tongue. He’s growing used to sweeter things, he’s noticed, since he arrived at the castle. A side glance and Varian shows where that had come from. Hugo’s not complaining.

The Song bursts with a flutter of joy as Varian devours his snack. At least he’s eating; Varian has had so much work to catch up on that, unless Hugo feeds him, he forgets sometimes. Oh well, that’s what a Soulmate’s for. The same way Varian’s always reminding Hugo to write down his observations instead of trying to remember them offhand—and eventually forgets. It’s all about completion, fitting the cogs and gears together until they became a unit.

Hugo wouldn’t have it any other way.

He finishes his food and kicks his feet. The night is inky black; a sea of darkness that bleeds out from Corona in an artistic wash. The stars are bright, but there’s no moon. A perfect night for the lantern festival.

“Hey, Varian,” Hugo says. Varian perks up at his name, tilting his head.

“Mphfm?” he asks. His mouth is still full of chocolate. Hugo snickers when he has to swallow it all in one go. Varian scowls and pushes at Hugo’s shoulder. “What?” he asks, “I’m trying to enjoy my snack!”

Hugo leans onto Varian, dead-weighting himself in retaliation. The alchemist squawks but gives in, letting Hugo lay on him like a blanket.

“I was just thinking,” Hugo says. “I… I dunno.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah! I’m amazing. Just—I don’t know. I’m trying to think, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. And it’s weirding me out.”

Varian’s brows knit together. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Hugo smiles. “It is. I guess I’m just not used to there not being… a catch, you know? I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like it did when we were figuring everything out.”

Varian’s head dips in a nod. “Yeah, no kidding.” That had been hell. They both agreed on it. “But I guess I’m just kinda taking it one day at a time? There’s no point in worrying about tomorrow when I could be enjoying today. With you.”

The last bit’s said quickly. Varian goes bright red with the admission. Hugo’s heart thumps.

“That’s a good point,” Hugo admits. And it is. But not one he’s entirely sure about admitting yet. Because Hugo… is happy. He’s so fucking happy. But he knows that it was a stroke of luck, and that luck runs out, and—

“Hey,” Varian’s hand is solid on his. “Don’t think about it too hard, okay? Whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you. You’re stuck with me now, songbird.”

Hugo lets out a gruff laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he admits.

Varian’s eyes sparkle in the starlight. He’s beautiful. Hugo wants to kiss him forever, to draw him close and never let him go. And the best part? He can.

They start to lean closer, eyes drifting shut, waiting, anticipating…

Only to startle apart when a loud fweeeeeee-BANG rattles across the sky. Everything lights up in a beautiful moment of magenta, scattering stardust across the sky.

Fireworks, wondrous and bright, begin to launch up from the other side of the lake. Varian lets out an excited gasp, grabbing at Hugo’s hand with a smile.

“It’s started!” he grins. Hugo grins back squeezing tight.

They both settle back to watch the show, carefully quiet. Varian manages to worm his way under Hugo’s arm, pressing up against the blond’s chest. Hugo lets his head dip so that his cheek and freshly healed nose presses against Varian’s hair. It’s so soft against his skin. Varian presses a small kiss to his jaw before he tilts his body closer to Hugo.

The fireworks burst to life with another pop-pop-pop, covering the world in a rainbow burst of color. Varian’s eyes are wide, reflecting the lights in a dazzling display. Hugo’s more focused on that, on watching the technicolor show scatter across Varian’s face. His freckles almost seem to dance. Hugo’s totally distracted, not even paying attention to the skies, which is fine by him. He’s got something much better to watch.

Varian’s Song trills with contentment, with joy and love and a soft sort of rolling happiness, like the tide coming in to shore. It pulls at the warmth under Hugo’s heart, the one that had burrowed itself deep and refused to leave no matter how much he tried. Kind of like how Varian had. The parallel is ironic.

Hugo smiles at his own joke. Varian tilts his head but obviously decides not to ask, instead sitting up properly and taking Hugo’s cheeks in his hands. His skin is warm, calloused and work weary, but his grip is gentle. Hugo leans into it, only wincing when his glasses get smooshed. Varian laughs and rights them; his thumb strokes along the bridge of Hugo’s cheekbone with a reverent touch.

“I love you,” he says. His eyes are so blue, endless and deep. An ocean Hugo would gladly get lost in. The fireworks continue behind them, bathing the world in a million colours.

“And I love you on purpose,” Hugo replies. Varian flushes at the admittance, at the memory of one of their earlier conversations. Hugo leans forward again, eyes lidding. Varian’s hands shift, the space between them shrinks.

Hugo’s Soul feels settled with a Soulmate to call his at long last, the feeling of love and connection more perfect than anything he’s ever felt. Fireworks continue on behind them, bright and shining and colourful—it’s everything he could have ever dreamed of. He opens his eyes at the sensation, catching sight of Varian being absolutely lost in the anticipation, before slipping them shut. Varian’s Song coos with pure, unfettered joy.

Varian’s hands go lax, bliss ringing true in his Song—it’s everything Hugo’s wished to hear for so long. He lets himself lean closer, bridging that gap between them and letting Varian take the lead. When they finally meet, the Song swells between them, loud and unfettered and blissful. Like being bowled over by a strong wave. The kiss is everything he could ever want, to hear Varian and know that he’s heard back. To feel that love, that acceptance, and know it’s from a place of pure joy. He presses closer, wrapping Varian up in a tight hug. Varian splits from him then, laughing as he’s pulled onto Hugo’s lap. His own arms snake around the blond’s shoulders. They look at each other, simply taking the other in, as the Song drifts between them.

For so long, Hugo hadn’t known what he was looking for. He thought it was gold, or prestige, or even something as simple as a reputation to uphold and he’d spent so long looking for it, looking for the thing that would give him a reason to be happy, that he’d nearly gotten lost in the search. Hugo hadn’t expected to find everything he’d been looking for in the hands of a snippy engineer. Maybe it’s fate. the way that once he finally stopped looking, his dreams landed soundly in his lap. Funny, almost.

Varian lets out a small giggle, leaning closer to steal another kiss. Hugo lets him. It’s so easy to let the world shrink down to the two of them, to HugoAndVarian and nothing else. The fireworks fade away, lost to the snaking swells of the Song and the feeling of Varian pressed up against him. It’s perfect. Here, after a lifetime of waiting, Hugo finally feels complete. The Song, content at last, drifts between them.

It’s never sounded sweeter.

#varigo #varian #vat7k #varian and the seven kingdoms #silent opera #fic

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khalixascorner · 2 years

Text

Judge Me Worth Epilogue

Summary: Summary: Anon Tumblr Ask: Tony must earn the approval of Peter's father to win his hand, and the man think's he's got something over the Stark Alpha, but Tony will show him.

Thanks to @the-mad-starker for being my amazing beta <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Read on AO3

Tags: Starker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, ABO, Mafia Tony, SIM Tony, Richard Parker's bad parenting, offscreen violence, dorks in love, love at first sight, Mafia AU, Italian Tony, no smut, just lots of fluff, tumblr ask, courtship rituals, proud alpha Tony, reference to child abuse

The expo was loud around him, and Tony was reminded of the first expo he had gone to. It had been so different then, being in a small booth exclusively with the other people specializing in weapons like the ones he was trying to bring to the market. There were a few differences though. Like the very noticeable lack of one Parker Industries and any of their subsidiaries. Tony was rather proud of that one.

They were also in the main hall with one of the largest displays this time and Tony could barely catch a minute to himself. At least until people started listening to what he was saying. Then they all smiled awkwardly and excused themselves.

“Tony, you have to stop scaring them away,” Peter said as the latest group of curious expo goers walked away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love,” Tony retorted, flashing his most brilliant smile.

“Uh huh-” Peter started to say only to get cut off as another group walked up. These ones were likely investors if the expensive dark suits were any indication.

“Ah, gentlemen, welcome to the Stark Industries booth,” Tony said, offering his hand. “I’m Tony Stark, and this is my mate, Peter.”

“Nice to meet you, Alpha Stark.” The main investor shook his hand, then stepped back to let the others do the same. Tony noticed that none offered to do the same with Peter or even acknowledged his presence at Tony’s side. His smile turned a tad sharper, and he heard Peter sigh softly. His mate knew him so well.

“So how can I help you gentlemen?” Tony asked.

“I was hoping you could give us a bit more information on what's coming down the line for Stark Industries,” the other man said. “An insider’s perspective so to speak.”

“We have a lot of projects coming down the pipeline,” Tony said, gesturing around him and stepping towards the closest display. “There’s the medical adhesive Peter here designed to support our medics on the streets and in the field abroad. It mimics a spider’s webbing for tensile strength while being completely sterile and capable of being applied with topical antibiotics and localized painkillers to give patients the best chance to get someplace safe.”

“That’s a very civic minded pursuit,” the alpha investor said. “You must be very proud of your Omega for contributing to the company.”

Tony fought back a growl, simply smiling wider and stepping to the next display while Peter coughed discreetly to cover a snicker. In their many years together, Tony always got more offended on his mate’s behalf, while Peter just found it amusing.

“This is one of our clean the ocean initiatives,” Tony said, pointing to a small bot that looked like a roomba. “It can be dropped in problem areas where it sucks in plastics and dissolves them to their base components using a new biochemical that Peter developed. The full size version has easily removable containers where the system sorts the chemicals, releasing those like oxygen and nitrogen that can be isolated, while containing the more destructive compounds like any chlorofluorocarbons until they can be retrieved and properly repurposed.”

Tony turned and gestured to the next case.

“Speaking of those, Peter is already working on a way to repurpose or fully break down those components so they can be disposed of properly this time, while also trying to find alternatives for companies to use so that it doesn’t become a persistent problem.”

“Your Omega is quite industrious,” the alpha said, nodding magnanimously. “Truly an asset to your company.”

“Oh, Peter is very much an asset to all of my life,” Tony said. “And frankly, he’s the genius behind much of SI. 80% of these projects are his, after all, or were greatly influenced by his work.”

Tony drew himself up to his full height while pulling Peter up against him.

“Look, I’m going to be straightforward with you,” Tony said. “Peter is the future of this company. He’s smarter than anyone I’ve ever met and in time, he will fully outstrip me if he hasn’t already. If you gentlemen have a problem with that, you can find someone else to throw your money at, because frankly, we don’t need it. I won’t tolerate you treating my mate with disrespect when the most impressive thing I’ve done is convince this amazing person to be my mate.”

The alphas looked uncomfortable, though none were willing to speak first. Tony just rolled his eyes and pulled Peter into a kiss that was probably better suited for the bedroom if Peter’s whines were anything to go by.

“You guys can leave anytime,” Tony said when he realized the alphas were still standing around awkwardly. “I tried to give you an opening to run away but apparently you were too dumb to take it.”

Tony took great pleasure watching their faces twist with barely controlled outrage before they stormed off in a huff.

“That was mean,” Peter chided, though the omega didn’t pull away.

“It was exactly what they deserved,” Tony countered. “And I wish you’d let me do the same to the board more often too because they forget about once a quarter who the real brains of the operation is.”

“Tony.”

The omega’s tone was full of censor but Tony could see the suppressed amusement in his love’s eyes.

“You know, if you stopped worrying about appearances and how we’re supposed to act in front of people, you’d be a lot happier,” Tony said.

“Society won’t change overnight just because you want it to or because you love your omega,” Peter whispered, curling into Tony’s tight hug.

“I don’t care about them, I just care that you’re happy,” Tony murmured back. “And that they treat you with the respect you deserve. You’re the best of all of us.”

#khalixa writes #starker #sim!tony #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #mafia au #alpha!tony #omega!peter #mads is the best #anon asks #mind the tags

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dreamkidddream · 4 years

Note

Can I please request a scenario/hcs for how the brothers would react to mc giving Lucifer a snickers bar and saying,”you’re not you when you’re hungry “ when Lucifer is giving one of his world famous lectures. Please please

Sorry about the wait! These are just a tad bit short for some of the bros, and I loved the scenario. MC is a brave yet dumb soul. Reader is gender neutral. Hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

So you have chosen DEATH

Not only did you INTERRUPT him, but you also tried to give him some sort of human made treat as a means to calm him down??

Does he look like Beel to you?!

Is super SHOOK

Kinda just stares at you as he processes what in the world you’re doing

Which then turned into anger

You had one thing and that was the AUDACITY to do this

Oh boy, if he wasn’t about to blow his top before he’s definitely going to do it now

Especially since you can see Satan and Belphie trying to hide their grins and hold in their laugh (jk they really don’t care lmao)

While you all have gotten past the point of trying to kill each other (or really them trying to kill you), that doesn’t mean that he won’t flip out and/or change into his demon form

Luckily for everyone, he doesn’t transform.

Unluckily for you, whatever the punishment everybody received you basically got doubled

Have fun walking and cleaning Cerberus for the next 1000 years

Although he did take the Snickers and ate it once everyone left, and he did feel a little bit better

But you definitely don’t need to know that

And it was pretty good too for some human food

Mammon

Immediate shock which turns into panic

Listen human! Just because no one is trying to kill you anymore doesn’t mean you need to joke like that! Geez, are you that dumb??

Even though it was kind of funny, he’s surprisingly smart enough not to laugh (he almost cracked though, almost)

He is the main one that knows how severe Lucifer punishments can get (hello, he’s like the only brother that gets punished on a daily, if not weekly, basis)

Tries to get you to apologize/tell Lucifer that it was a poorly timed joke/distract Lucifer from getting you into anymore trouble

All of which are failed attempts, and convinces Lucifer that Mammon somehow had a hand in this even though you try to tell him otherwise

He stopped listening to either of you

So now you both got twice the punishment, which included hanging upside down in the hallway

Which he complained about obviously, but if he had to be punished he was glad it was you

You also offered him a snickers to make him feel better

Which he proceeded to swing over, flick your forehead, and called you a dumb human

He still took the Snickers though once y’all got down though

Leviathan

Oh man, you were brave enough to do that?!

Has respect for you but also thinks that you’re stupid

Another one that thinks this is funny but is very smart enough to not laugh

However, he does record it

Especially since once he uploads this to the DevilTube he needs you to live to tell the tale

You got punished sure, but look at the potential views MC! Plus, this is a good memory to LOL at in the future

Until Lucifer finds out and bans him from playing video games and buying anything that is even close to resembling Ruri-Chan for life if he doesn’t delete the video

Oh well, it was good while it lasted

Besides he totally didn’t send the video to himself and you already, psh what kind of brother would he be if he did that??

Satan

Do I even need to say it?

This man, as soon as you tried to hand Lucifer the candy, completely lost all composure

Man is laughing so hard that he has actual tears coming out of his eyes and he is close to falling on the ground

MC, if he didn’t love you before (which would be a complete lie), he definitely loves you now

His love and respect for you = through the ROOF

He obviously didn’t make the situation any better, but this is Satan, you think he cares?

He still gets punished without a doubt, but he doesn’t care

He’s definitely taking you to that new cat cafe after this

Think of it as a celebration and a date too

Just, don’t get any ideas of trying this on him. Especially when he’s really mad

Honestly just don’t try this on him at all if you value your life seriously

Asmodeus

Lives for the drama

This man is messy, honey, and does not care

Was shocked that you actually did this, but then wasn’t really surprised

How many “not smart” things have you done since you got here?? Exactly

Was definitely recording this to upload. I mean hello?? The Avatar of Pride, made speechless by a human, and still standing??

Thought it was funny, but wasn’t about to get punished with you. Everyone already has some sort of punishment, he wasn’t about to add on anything else

Was close to uploading the video but was caught, sadly

Was able to convince (ie. whine and pitch a fit) that he learned his lesson and deleted the video

Was sad about the video, but look at the bright side. You guys can totally do a story time about this for his fans, and the candy bar can be proof!

Beelzebub

You were giving away food??

Why are you only offering it to Lucifer and not him? :(

Then remembers the situation that they’re in and realizes that maybe this isn’t the best time to do this

Was thinking at first that the Snickers was enchanted or something to make Lucifer feel less stress or dare I say...happy

Then saw how everyone reacted around the room, and figured out that that wasn’t the case

Knew that Lucifer wouldn’t attack you, and in the worst case scenario that he did, he was ready to protect you

Kinda found it funny, but not really. His mind was too busy focusing on the candy and it was also the fact that he was already in trouble

And Beel rarely gets punished by Lucifer (or at least doesn’t get punished like Mammon and even Levi)

He didn’t want Lucifer to make his punishment worse, so he kept his mouth shut and face straight

Once everyone was dismissed and got their fitting punishment, he immediately went to MC and asked if they had any more bars left

“Of course Beel, I had already saved you some.”

Cue a happy Beel

Went to your room later that night to try it, and immediately knew why they had that slogan

Lucifer definitely should’ve ate it, cause Beel definitely feels much better

Belphegor

Woke up out of his daze to witness this

Another one that obviously found it funny

Wasn’t cracking up like Satan, but definitely chuckling and had a smug grin on his face the whole time

Was proud of you 10000%

The look on Lucifer’s face is just priceless

Still got punished, still didn’t care

After being dismissed, he went straight to you and grabbed you for a celebratory cuddle/napping session

Didn’t care about the punishments

“MC, you’ll have enough time to do it later and I’m sleepy now. *Yawn* See? Let’s go. I got to show you how much I appreciate you for embarrassing Lucifer.”

Makes you the member of the month for the “Anti Lucifer League/Lucifer you SUCK” club with no objections

For sure tried to make a hex (him and Satan) to have the Snickers to appear whenever Lucifer is stressed or about to blow a gasket

You’re a genius, MC, and while Belphie was sure this was going to bite all of you in the ass, it was going to be worth it

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gallickingun · 4 years

Note

How do you think Tama would react if you begged him to cum inside you while you were having sex? I just want our sweet elf boy to give me a nice creampie

cw: breeding kink, oral (m. receiving), praise, bit o’ dacryphilia!

His thumb is soft against your lower lip, watching with his own unhinged jaw as you bob your head up and down on his cock, the tip nudging your tongue until you are able to take him further, until your throat is tensing up around the thick shaft and you’re drooling down your chin. He swallows, a shininess in his eyes that he gets every time you beg to please him, every time you drop to your knees to prove to him that he’s worth a thousand stars.

“You’re so pretty,” and he doesn’t even mean to say it, not really. Tamaki’s voice is barely above a whisper, and his tongue parts his mouth so he can lick up and over the bow of his upper lip. An exhale shudders his shoulders and his free hand rubs your neck in a soothing motion, and for some reason he wants to kiss you so badly that he can’t see straight.

Or maybe that’s just a biproduct of your pretty mouth suckling all the way to the base of him.

Tamaki’s irises are hidden from you now, his lids unable to stutter open any longer, the further you take him, the more saliva that pools around the base of him until it drips from his balls to the floor. He moans, high and whiney, and his head drops back against the wall behind him, “Baby, ‘m gonna come if you keep that up.”

The thought of being able to taste him is divine, but your thighs throb with the need for something more. You swallow the pool of drool and pre that sits heavy on your tongue, and sit back on your thighs so you can look him in the eyes, seeking out those sweet, darkened irises with a gentle squeeze of his thigh under your petite grip, “T-Tama?”

You’ve wanted this for a while, wanted to beg and plead and cry until he gives it to you, but Tamaki swore he’d go slow, savor every piece of you until you’re tired and then, he’ll do it all over again. But, still, there is something missing. Your eyes are drawn momentarily to the shiny packages littered across your nightstand, taunting you silently, quietly mocking your every movement. You’ve purposefully bruised both of your knees tonight, with the hope that you can draw out such a long, heady arousal from him that it would leak out of you — but not your mouth, not this time.

“Yeah?” he’s trying his hardest not to stutter, you can tell. Your thumb runs over his knee and then you’re cupping your hands along his calves, anchoring yourself to the floor so you don’t float away with how effervescent his gaze makes you feel. You’re squirming on the floor now, the heels of your feet dug into your ass to give yourself some sort of harsh reminder that you need to get this question out of the way, that it will bother you until you know his answer.

You bite your lower lip to bring yourself back to reality and the sentence is slurred, but at least you’ve propelled it from your lips this time, “W-Will you come in me?”

His hips stutter to a stop and you’re worried you’ve run him off. You lick your lips and massage your thumbs in circles against his ankles, drifting palms headed north to administer the same affections to his thighs. Tamaki inhales in a shudder, and his thick fingers slide along your neck until he’s near gripping you at the shoulders, like he might push you further down until the floor swallows you whole. His thumb traces your jawline until he reaches your lower lip, and he cannot stop himself as he runs the pad of his fingerprint against the swell of your lower lip.

“Y-You mean it?” he is hesitant, and you could cry at the sound of his voice breaking the silence. Your mouth laps at the spittle and start of his orgasm that beads against his cockhead, pearlescent and pretty along the purpled tip. A nod has your mind boggling, and all you want is to let him drown you in whatever he’s willing to give you, just to taste him in your womb instead of your throat.

Tamaki guides you to your feet, fingers circled around your wrists to hold you closely, “Angel, I need to know—“

“Yes, I mean it,” your voice is firm and your gaze is direct enough to match. With a gusto you did not have moments prior, you reach out to hold his shaft in your hand, swiveling your palm up and down the length of him so the head disappears in your grasp and he’s already moaning on your first pass. He bucks his hips but then thinks twice, holding you by the hips and angling his pelvis backward so he does not move again, “I-I’m close, c-can’t keep goin’ like this.”

You are a mess when you take another step forward and practically beg him with your words and your gaze, “Then fuck me, ‘jiki. Want to feel you, all of you, inside of me, please!”

Unsure of where your words incited the riot that is his next movements, you allow him to take you along for the ride. Tamaki guides you to the bed and settles between your thighs, wanting to watch the way you fall apart beneath him as he spears you on the thick of his cock and he milks the sticky translucent arousal from between your precious, velveteen folds. He’s slow and deliberate with each thrust, savoring the way your plush warmth steals the very breath from his lungs, sucking him in like it might be the last stroke you ever feel. His palms are tucked under your knees, using the leverage of this position to hold you near folded in half, something you might complain about if it weren’t for the fucked out expression slackening his features.

“Ah, I’m, ‘m cl-close, angel,” he whimpers, and you’re surprised he’s managed this long. You feel a haze cloud your vision and you know it’s the tears that always fall when he fucks you raw on his cock. He’s so thick and deliberate, and you find yourself lost in every bit of him no matter how he takes you. Tamaki’s hips slam into your ass and it stings, and you’re sure that there will be a plethora of reminders of this evening in the form of blistering purple bruises along the curve of your ass.

“Please, Tama’,” you are wanton and uncaring in the desperation to your tone. You buck into him, meeting him more than halfway, the promise of his seed driving you to a new level of hungry. Tears seep down your cheeks and he releases one leg in favor of throwing it over his shoulder, just so he can brush his thumb over the curve of your face, collecting the saltine droplet on his fingertip. You open your mouth in beckoning for his finger, and he obliges you with little question, nothing but adoration and awe in his eyes as he watches your lips mold around his thick digit, suckling and licking at the knuckles.

Tamaki rolls his lips and then his hips and he gasps for breath, “Tell me, love, tell me what you want from me, please, I need you to—“

It is the only encouragement you need to beg for his cock, his come, to tell him that it’s the only thing left to complete you. There is a hole carved out in your innermost parts, and it’s created just for him. You are a desolate wasteland without the depths of his affections, and the weight of his cock between your thighs is but one facet to the gem of your relationship. Your nails are relentless against his back and shoulders, clawing at him like he might be taken from you if you were to let him go. Tamaki indulges you to the fullest, not a single complaint from his full lips as he bucks into you with a sheer force that rivals even the most brutish of men.

“R-Right there,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself, “g-gonna stuff you full, angel, gonna give you all my come until it’s pouring out of you, is that what you want?”

You’re incapable of speech at this point, too fucked out to do much other than listen and receive. Luckily for you both, you’re receptive enough for a thousand lifetimes, eyes widening and mouth parted in a silent begging as you tighten your thighs and cant your hips in time with his rhythm. The pleadings you’re able to muster are little more than musings, incomplete sentences and half-syllables, but he has been with you long enough to know what you mean.

Tamaki seems to put it all together on his last stroke, eyes widening as he falls forward, hips stuttering with aborted, untimely shifts until you feel the warmth inside of you duplicate tenfold, his cock twitching until he’s spent himself dry. Still, Tamaki moves like he might get started up again, half-hard cock still nestled into the sticky heat of your cunt, watching as the milky slick coats his cock in a ring, collecting when he pulls himself out only to stuff you full all over again. You wonder for a moment if he’s doing this with the knowledge that he’s fucking deeper into your womb with each roll of his hips, but you don’t have the wherewithal to ask.

“So pretty,” his words are but a distant echo of earlier, and this time the meaning is increasingly more lewd than it was when he was merely watching you take his cock deeper and deeper into your throat. Now, with the pulsating thick of his shaft finding purchase in the plush of your cunt, his words carry more weight, and this time you know he’s referencing the way your folds coat him in slick, not leaving an inch of him insatiable for your come. He is coated in it, drenched in the mixture of you both, and immediately, the desire to repeat the action stirs his cock from the depths of your body.

“No, you,” you giggle, framing his face with your hands so you can bring him forward for a kiss, “you’re always so pretty, ‘specially when you come.”

Tamaki turns so his cheek is pressed to yours, hoping you didn’t see the lustful darkening of his amethyst irises before he responds, “Wanna see me get downright gorgeous?”

A giggle is shared between the two of you, along with another round of your begging and pleading to be stuffed to the brim, and who is Tamaki to deny you of something when you ask so sweetly?

#tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki thirst #tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki smut #bnha smut #bnha thirst #bnha x reader #morgan writes bnha #morgan thirsts #morgan gets mail #anonymous #god can you tell i haven’t written x reader in SO LONG

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luffles424 · 4 years

Text

Luminous

☼ Pairing: Jimin x reader

☼ Genre: tentacle monster!Jimin, some fluff, smut, mostly just pwp

☼ Count: 9k

☼ Warnings: 18+, public sex (no ones around but they’re on the beach), tentacles (kind of a given), big dick jimin, manhandling, lots of cum, some cumplay, creampie, cum inflation/belly bulge (not a whole lot, just a small bump) unprotected sex, restraints, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit fucking, thigh fucking, oral (m recieving), deep throating, anal, double penatration, minor nipple play, praise kink, mating cycles, slight impreg kink

☼ Summary: The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here.

☼ a/n: This was written for Sol’s (jamaisjoons) collab event ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ and my prompt was ‘watching fireworks.’ Uhhh this idea was originally very different and then I started thinking about tentacles and now here we are 🥴🥴🥴 Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Banner made by the absolutely amazing @jamaisjoons (who did such wonderful work on it and I hope the fic lives up to the beautiful banner she made me 💕💕💕)

You let out a small contented sigh as you slip your feet into the water. This is your favorite place in all of Busan, this hidden little jutty of rock just off one of the smaller, less popular beaches, more popular among locals only. You’ve spent more time than you can count out here hanging out with your friends, passing the time and using the salty sea breeze to help combat the heat of summer. You’ve been out here plenty on your own too, just like how you’re out here alone right now.

The sun’s dipping below the horizon, the sky slowly turning an inky black. The perfect backdrop to what’s going to happen soon and the main reason you’re out here at all to begin with rather than at home. The summer festival is happening and once the sun disappears, the sky will be decorated with fireworks, and you and your friends discovered years ago that this is the best spot to watch them, unobstructed and no one around to fight for seats.

You kick your feet idly in the water, enjoying the warmth of it as you lean back on your hands as you watch the last few rays of light slip away. You wished your friends could’ve made it though. But Namjoon was stuck in the city for work and Taehyung was out with his girlfriend at the festival. A brief feeling of sadness overcomes you because you had been planning to go with Taehyung and his girlfriend and your own boyfriend as a double date. Until he dumped you a week ago over text because he’d moved to the otherside of the country and apparently was nothing like the man you met since he didn’t even have the balls to break up in person.

You suspect that there was a lot more than his flimsy excuse of it’s just not working and long distance is hard. It most likely has something to do with the new girl that you’ve been told about that has shown up on his socials.

For what it’s worth, Taehyung and Namjoon both offered you company but you waved them off. Namjoon’s job opportunity is much more important and as much as you love Taehyung and his girlfriend, you didn’t particularly feel like being third wheel to their (normally adorable and heart warming) love.

You think this is better anyway. It’s peaceful out here. The smell of salt being carried by the breeze brings a myriad of memories that all bring a smile to your face and it’s easy to forget about the hard things in this moment. It’s healing to be out here. As much as it sucked that you got dumped, you can’t be too upset. You saw the cracks forming the more he opened his mouth and talked, if he hadn’t done it, you likely would have been doing it soon anyway. You let your head fall back, letting your eyes slip closed as you simply enjoyed this. You should tell the others that you all need to make another trip out here soon.

Plus you’d come much earlier when the sun was still high and swam some. Using the ebb and flow of the ocean to erode your worries and stress. Then you’d sprawled out on your beach towel on your rocky perch and let the sunset dry your skin before you slipped back into your shorts and tank top and allowed the peacefulness to swallow you.

You startle slightly when there’s a loud, echoing boom and color flashes across the sky. You’d been lulled into such calmness and had almost forgotten why you were out here to begin with. You watch the sky passively, watching the occasional flash of color and shapes as the firework people warm themselves and the crowds up. You know the real show won’t start for at least another 45 minutes, knowing the tell by the fact that there’s still the faintest of traces of blue on the horizon.

Your feet continue their idle movements in the water, until something slick brushes the bottom of your foot and you scream on instinct, quickly jerking your foot free from the water. You back up an extra foot from the edge, to the safety of the blanket that you spread across the rocks, just as an extra precaution. You’re sure that whatever touched you was probably just seaweed. Maybe a plastic bag or some other trash that someone carelessly threw into the ocean. But anything touching you in the water when the water is nothing more than an inky black expanse is enough for you to decide that’s enough soaking for the night.

Just as your heart rate is returning to normal, something slips over the edge of the rocks where you’d just been sitting. It gleams in the moonlight, silver, smooth, and shiny, as it makes a cursory probe at the edge, like it’s looking for something. It’s probably no thicker than your thumb and you deliriously wonder if octopi are even capable of coming up on dry land, let alone the reason why one might be coming up right now. Though the longer you stare at it, the more you realize that it’s far too smooth to be from an octopus, completely devoid of the telltale suckers.

You shuffle a little further away. You really don’t want to move too quickly, not if you don’t know what it even is and if it can follow you or how fast whatever it is. But your slight movement only seems to catch it’s attention and to your growing horror, it lashes out almost faster than you can see and wraps itself firmly around your ankle. You scream again, because aside from that, there’s really very little you can do out here all alone with it on you.

Any attempts to free yourself prove futile, the slender appendage is far stronger than you would’ve expected from such a jelly-like creature. It gives its own experimental tug, one that pulls you marginally closer to the water before you once again scramble backwards. It lets you and that just serves to freak you out more.

Then, a few more tentacles appear over the edge of the rock, watering dripping and spreading out around them and then there’s a… hand? You frown as a seemingly human hand, if perhaps a little ashen looking, plants itself on the rock right alongside the tentacles. The fingers flex for a moment before something, somehow even more surprising, appears. A fairly human face, or at least up to the eyes as that’s the furthest it raises, peaks up over the edge, gaze quickly zeroing in on you. Your heart stutters in your chest as your eyes meet and its pale silver eyes gleam like its tentacles. It’s hair is wet and slicked back and, though the locks are currently water logged and a few shades darker, it’s clearly also a similar shade of silver as its tentacles and eyes.

Another hand joins the first along the edge of the rocks and for a moment it doesn’t move at all. You stare at it, you know it’s definitely bigger than an octopus now. You don’t think you could take it. It’s dead silent aside from the gentle lapping of the waves and you’re terrified to move for fear of what it’s going to do to you. It gives the slightest of tugs on your ankle and when you don’t budge it finally lifts itself from the water.

You try to back away again, but it’s grip keeps you in place and you let out a startled scream when another tentacle darts out to wrap itself around your other ankle. The… monster… sits on its knees at the edge for a moment after pulling itself from the water.

It, he?, looks almost perfectly human. Skin a dimmed golden shade, frame small but packed with lean muscle… apparently well endowed in human terms. You jerk your gaze quickly away when you realize just where you're staring. Your life is on the line, now is not the time to to fucking ogle the monster and think about if he can get hard like a human and if it possibly gets bigger. You force yourself back to his face, cheekbones prominent and lips plush as he seems to be looking you over as well, though his gaze continually seems to dart behind you, brows knitting in confusion.

His eyes appear almost human except that it doesn’t seem like he has a pupil, silver swallowing the whole of the iris. It’s slightly disconcerting. His tentacles shift behind him, drawing your attention to them finally. The ones not on you shift behind him restlessly, never seeming to settle. A thin one drapes itself on his shoulder before slithering across his skin to the other side, forming a strange sort of living necklace. It’s hard to pin down an exact number with them constantly moving, but there seems to be a lot and they seem to come in primarily two sizes, thinner ones like the one draped around his throat and wrapped around your ankles and thicker ones easily the width of 3 or 4 fingers, you try very hard not to compare their girth with what you had glimpsed between his legs.

You’re trying to formulate a plan to get away when there’s another boom of a firework, bathing everything pink for a moment. And what you’re certainly not expecting is for the way the monster startles at the sound. The tentacles around your ankles tighten almost painfully and then before you can completely comprehend what’s going on, you’re being pulled closer to him. Once you're close enough, he’s leaning down over you and you squeeze your eyes shut, unsure of what’s about to happen but positive that it’s unlikely to be good.

But nothing happens and as the seconds stretch, you slowly peek an eye open. His face is almost directly above yours, but it’s not you that he’s looking at. Instead, he’s studiously scanning your surroundings, looking tense and on edge. When you glance at the way that he’s leaning over you, you realize that he seems to be almost… protecting you? Which only serves to confuse you more.

Deeming there to be no immediate threat, his gaze turns down to you and you freeze now that you're faced with him this close. He blinks down at you before his lips part and he makes a strange sort of clicking sound, but you’re more focused on the sharp teeth revealed when he makes noise. Definitely sharp enough to tear into you and eat his fill.

“Please don’t eat me,” you squeak out, hands coming up to cover your face.

There’s silence for a moment before a deep chuckle sounds from him. You peek between your fingers at him and there’s a smirk stretching his lips.

“Oh, I have met your kind before.” His voice is soft and surprisingly melodious given the higher pitch the clicking was.

You can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “My kind?”

His lips twitch and he tilts his head. “Humans. Are you not human?” He pushes himself up slightly to inspect you again. “You do not appear to be one of my kind.”

“There’s more of you?”

His gaze darts around. “A few.”

You swallow, about to speak again when another firework goes off. He startles above you and drops closer once more, body pressed firmly to yours as he glares around, trying to discover the source.

You’d laugh at his constant startling if your throat wasn’t suddenly so dry. His chest is every bit as firm as it looked and you can feel every shift and ripple as he looks around. It’s incredibly distracting. Why did the monster have to be hot? You squeeze your eyes shut again. You should not be thinking about how it’d feel to touch the monster with your hands. Or how other parts of him would feel.

He shifts off of you slightly. “It is safe for now.”

You blink your eyes open, frowning at him. “Safe? What are you talking about?”

His head tilts and he reminds you of a confused puppy. “Do you not hear the loud noises?”

A giggle slips out and that seems to perplex him further. “No, no. I do. It’s just… Have you not been around here before?”

“I have always lived here.”

“Have you… been on land before?”

His brows pinch and there’s the slightest of flushes coloring his cheeks a deep blue-gray. “I come up here every year.”

“How have you not heard them before then? They’re just fireworks.” You see the streak of a new one and point to it quickly, drawing his attention to it just before it reaches its peak and explodes in a sparkling cascade of gold. “They’re for entertainment. They’re not dangerous.” You pause. “Okay they are. But not at this distance. The only people who could possibly be in danger would be the ones firing them.”

“Fire… works?” He mumbles, sitting back on his haunches as his face remains tilted towards the sky even though the phosphorus has long since burned out. “Will there be more?”

You slowly push yourself up, cautious of what he might do but his focus remains firmly upwards. “Yeah, they’ll keep shooting some singles off for a little bit longer then they’ll start the big show.”

He says nothing else and you wonder if you can use the time to slip away before you realize that he still has two tentacles wrapped around your ankles. There goes your chance for escape. At least he doesn’t seem interested in eating you. Yet.

Another firework goes and you watch his eyes widen as he follows its trajectory up until it stops in an explosion of color and sound. But you’re far more taken watching the childlike glee on his face and the way the colors gleam on his skin and tentacles. The colors add another level to his already stunning looks, making him look far more ethereal and angelic. He grins as he watches and he looks much less like a terrifying monster. Though you worry what will happen once the fireworks stop and there’s nothing to distract him. Maybe when the real show starts he’ll be so engrossed that you can slip yourself free of the tentacles and make a quick and quiet escape.

You shake your head, looking away and up at the sky too. There’s nothing much you can do right now with their grip on you still too tight, so you might as well also watch the show. The fireworks are slowly starting to increase in frequency and he seems to squirm in excitement the closer together the pops of color come.

“Do you have a name?” You ask suddenly, looking back over at him. Maybe you can text Namjoon or Taehyung and tell them that if you disappear to look for something with that name. Probably Taehyung. He’d be more likely to believe that you’ve been taken by a monster than Namjoon. He’d probably ask if you’ve drank or smoked anything. Get too drunk camping once and claim that bigfoot tried to kidnap you and you never get believed again.

He doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that you spoke. But then his lips purse and he looks over at you for a moment. “Jimin.”

“Jimin?” He bobs his head and turns back to catch another firework going off. “My name’s Y/n.” You murmur, unsure if he’s even interested.

It hurts a little that he didn’t seem interested in you back, but you suppose that you don’t know whatever his monster customs are. And you really shouldn’t look too deeply into why it hurts that a monster doesn’t seem interested in you. That should be a good thing. It means you have a better chance of getting away.

There’s a long break in the fireworks and Jimin’s lips push out into an adorable pout as he turns to you with sad eyes. “Is it over?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s actually just getting ready to get started. Now it’s the big show. You thought it was good before. Just wait.”

He gives a simple nod and turns back to the sky, content to wait patiently for the rest. Silence descends on you both and you feel like you should be more worried about the tentacle monster sitting in front of you. But Jimin seems harmless enough, he certainly hasn’t tried to eat you or anything and that’s certainly got to count for something. He seems far more interested in the fireworks than in you now anyway.

You’re just starting to relax when something cool and damp brushes the skin of your lower back. You freeze, back stiff as whatever it is tentatively touches the warm skin before slithering further up your shirt. You bite down on the urge to scream, you don’t want to startle Jimin again. Just because he was protective before, doesn’t mean that a scream coming from you would produce the same result. And before you can twist to see what is crawling up your shirt, the tentacles around your ankles slide a little further up your legs, ends timidly probing along your flesh as they go.

Another tentacle, one of the thicker ones, slides across your arm, wrapping once around your wrist and nestling the tip into your palm. The cool sensation is bizarrely familiar and it takes you only a moment to realize that whatever crawled up your shirt a moment ago is another tentacle. You’re about to speak when a thin tentacle trails up your arm to rest against your shoulder, gently tracing your jaw and neck.

You swallow. “Um, Jimin?” All you get is a hum in response. Does he not realize what’s going on? “Jimin? What’s happening?”

Either your words or tone finally pulls his attention to you and when he sees his tentacles wrapped around you, he flushes a pretty blue. He scoots away, working to encourage them to release you, but this time of year they always have a bit more mind of their own. He makes an irritated clicking noise when they don’t move.

The one in your hand seems to respond to his sound though you’re not sure if it’s the way he wanted it to or not but it tightens around your wrist slightly before becoming… slicker?

You look at it, a weird mix of horror and maybe a little arousal. Maybe you shouldn’t have watched so much hentai when you were younger. You look back up at Jimin, at a complete loss. “Jimin?”

Jimin looks incredibly embarrassed, burying his face in his hands and making more distressed clicking noises. Probing tentacles aside, he looks adorable all flustered like this. A few of his tentacles wrap around his wrists and shoulders, patting his skin soothingly but that only seems to make him more distressed.

The tentacle at your back has reached the tie to your bikini top beneath your shirt and is prodding at the knot with interest. You don’t know what to do to stop the distress you can practically feel coming from Jimin. The tentacle in your hand squirms slightly, drawing your attention back to it. You swallow, sneaking a quick peek at Jimin as you do the only, seemingly illogical, thing you can think of right now and you close your hand around the rowdy tentacle and squeeze.

The result is instantaneous and certainly not what you had expected. Jimin moans. So then even if he’s not in control, he can still feel through them. Interesting to know. Jimin’s mouth hangs open for a moment before his gaze is meeting yours and you suddenly feel like maybe that was the wrong thing to do.

There’s simmering fire in his eyes as he tries to speak as calmly and evenly as possibly. “I told you I come here once a year, correct?” You nod and he continues. “I come here to mate.”

You blink at him, mind completely blanking out. “M-mate?” You hate how high your voice sounds.

He nods, sending a glare at the tentacles touching you. “When I saw you here, I had assumed you were one that I have spent the mating period with before.”

“Fuck, did I ruin your hookup?”

“Hookup?”

Your body heats with embarrassment. Maybe if you ask nicely, Jimin will let you go drown. “Whoever you were supposed to meet here. Did they not show up because I was here?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I did not have plans. But sometimes if someone is near they will stop by. If they are not, I can take care of myself.”

The image of Jimin splayed out on the rocks by himself, tentacles sliding across his skin, wrapped around his cock, drawing more of those noises from him shoots straight to your core. Your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand accidentally tightens around Jimin’s tentacle again, drawing a gasp from him.

“I apologize for not warning you sooner. The fireworks distracted me but it appears that it did not distract them.” He gestures to his tentacles. “Give me a moment and I should be able to free you so you can leave.”

His eyes slip closed and your gaze drags over him, startling slightly when you realize he’s started to grow hard too. You feel crazy that the first thing you think is how badly you want to touch.

This is such a bad idea, but before you can stop yourself or second guess, you’re speaking. “What if... you didn’t though?”

Jimin freezes, but the tentacles seem to grow more restless at your words. Another thick one stretches the distance between you both to rest against your thigh, slicking your skin wherever it touches.

“You do not know what you are saying.” He grits out.

The tentacle in your hand squirms and you give it a small squeeze, maintaining eye contact with Jimin as you do so you get to fully enjoy the shudder that ripples through him. “I um, think I have a pretty good idea what I’m saying.”

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. You didn’t think it would be so hard to convince a tentacle monster that you wanted him to fuck you. This was by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. For all you know, he could eat his partner afterwards. If you live past this encounter, no one would ever let you live it down. If they even believed you. Your gaze drops involuntarily back to his cock and you find that he's fully hard now. And it’s almost a little intimidating how big he is, longer and thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before. You don’t think your fingers would be able to wrap around the girth. But any apprehensions you think you’d feel normally are nowhere to be seen, all you feel is overwhelming want. You want to try to fit him, to feel the burn as he stretches you out. You want to taste and you want him to absolutely ruin you.

Unsure of any other way to convince him that you do want this, you switch tactics. If you can’t convince him with words, you’ll just have to show him what you want. You release the tentacle in your hand, though it keeps itself wrapped around your wrist, and move to remove your shirt. Seeming to know your plan, or maybe just through a stroke of luck, the tentacle that has been exploring your bikini top seems to have discovered how to undo the ties and as your top hits the ground beside you, your top slips to your lap.

His eyes dip to the scrap of fabric in your lap before they trace slowly back up, expression worryingly blank. You belatedly realize that this might not even be a good signal to him that you do want this. You don’t know what others of his kind look like, if any of them look anything like you. For the most part, he looks human enough, you’d think that maybe this was enough, that maybe this is at least sort of familiar to him. You feel suddenly self conscious, this was such a dumb idea. You really shouldn’t let the horny brain lead. You’re just about to cross your arms to cover yourself when the tentacle that had been on your thigh slithers up your stomach to sit between your breasts.

You glance at Jimin and his eyes seem darker, jaw clenched tight. His tentacles seem to grow more agitated behind him and the ones around your ankles tighten to tug you closer, both to your surprise and apparently also Jimin’s. He flushes, staring down at you with wide eyes as your thighs come to rest against his.

The tentacle on your chest squirms and Jimin’s gaze drops to watch. Your gaze drops too, intending to look at the tentacle currently writhing around on your chest and smearing slick there but you only make it halfway. Because Jimin is now fully hard, thick cock curving up towards his belly and the sight of it has you enraptured. He looked big when he was still soft, but now fully hard, or at least what you assume is fully hard, he looks positively massive. The skin of his cock is the same muted tan of the rest of him, the tip almost blue-gray, close to the color his cheeks turned but deeper in color, and it’s leaking more silvery looking fluid. You wonder if it’s the same thing that is leaking from his tentacles.

Jimin shudders and it takes only a moment for you to realize that the reason is because a thin tentacle has wrapped itself around the base of his cock. It makes you want to touch too. So tentatively, you reach out, gaze flicking between his cock and his face to gauge his reaction and giving him more than enough time to pull away.

He watches your fingers brush against the tip, dragging a smear of slick further down the shaft but he makes no move to stop you. He lets out a shaky exhale and, emboldened by the noise, you wrap your fingers around him. Or you at least try your best to because his girth keeps your fingers from meeting.

Jimin makes a rumbling noise and then there are two more tentacles massaging at your thighs, working their way up until they meet the edge of your shorts. They only probe along the fabric for a moment before slipping beneath and continuing their exploration towards the apex of your thighs. They trace the edge of your bikini bottoms before one of them presses against your pussy through the thin fabric.

You gasp and Jimin’s gaze is back on your face, attention wholly focused on you as his tentacles press again, but this time with a little more pressure. One happens to brush past your clit and you jolt, a moan slipping from your lips and the tentacles seem desperate to recreate that reaction as they narrow their focus to your clit.

Jimin groans again and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, his tentacles all stilling for a moment. He waits until you look up at him. “Are you sure? It will be harder to stop once we start. Are you positive you can handle it? I do not mind spending the time alone.”

It’s sweet how concerned he is about you. But now that he’s started, all you can think about is being fucked by him while his tentacles play with every inch of you. You squirm back slightly and he seems to take that as rejection, if the flash of disappointment you catch on his face is anything to go by. You quickly undo your shorts, tugging them down your legs, assisted by his tentacles once they reach your ankles.

He swallows and you watch as the tentacles from your ankles relocate to your thighs to keep you spread wide as the two that had been in your pants resume their work on your clit, now free of the hindrance of cloth. You bring your slick fingers to your mouth and keep eye contact as you lick them clean. It’s salty like the sea, but rather than the bitterness of cum, his has a hint of sweetness to it. It’s slightly addictive.

He stares at you for a moment and then he’s making another clicking noise and the tentacle that had been around your wrist unwraps itself and slips between your legs to join the other two already there, though it bypasses your clit to circle your dripping hole instead.

“Needy.” He coos, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or his tentacles. Maybe both.

He shuffles in close again, seemingly content to just watch his tentacles play with you. You whine, you like the feel of his tentacles, but you want him to touch with his hands and lips too. You want more. Maybe the needy was directed at you after all. He glances up at your noise, watching the way your mouth drops open as his tentacle finally wriggles it’s way into your pussy. It’s firmer than you expected from touching it, but still much more malleable than a cock would be. But it’s softer nature allows it greater freedom to explore your walls as it moves slowly in and out of you, certainly a different experience for you but you definitely can’t find it in you to hate it when it can reach all the right spots inside of you easily.

You reach out, grabbing the first part of Jimin you can grab, his arm, and tug him insistently down on top of you. He complies easily, seemingly curious as to what you want. You wonder if he’s ever kissed a partner before, if that’s something that his kind does. You hesitate and Jimin immediately notices, head tilting in curiosity.

“What is wrong?”

You’re gasping before you can formulate your question, the tentacle inside you having quickly found your g-spot and is now making sure to rub it with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Jimin’s head dips down and his nose rubs against yours.

“Are you okay? I have never been with a human and so I am unsure of what might hurt or bring pleasure. Please tell me if they are hurting you.”

He looks so sweet and it makes your heart stutter a little. You tilt your head, capturing his plush lips in a kiss. They’re warmer than you expected, giving the cooler temperature of his tentacles. It takes him a moment of inaction before he seems to catch on to how to kiss back. He makes a small noise when your tongue brushes his lips but he easily parts them for you. His sharp teeth skim your lip and it leaves you gasping into his mouth. He seems pleased with the response and he trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck.

“You did not answer my question.” He murmurs, teeth gently teasing the skin of your neck, mindful of their sharpness.

His tentacles are driving you mad, bringing you so close to your orgasm but seeming to know exactly when to slow back down to draw it out even longer. “What… question?” You gasp out.

“Are you okay?”

You’d scoff if the tentacles around your clit hadn’t started circling in tandem, winding the coil in your belly tighter. “So… so okay… Fuck, Jimin, are you sure you’ve never been with a human before?”

He pulls away from your neck enough to look down at you, a pleased smile stretching his lips. “I have not. Am I doing good?”

You nod enthusiastically, hands tangling in his hair to pull him back in for a messy kiss. He makes a pleased sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat and his tentacles speed up. And this time when your orgasm draws near his tentacles keep their speed rather than slowing again and you cum, back arching off the blanket as your pussy convulses around the tentacle. His tentacles continue their ministrations and Jimin pulls away to stare down at where his tentacle disappears inside you with wide eyed wonder.

He groans as he watches with rapt attention. “Does it do this every time?”

You squirm, oversensitivity quickly setting in as his tentacles refuse to let up. The borderline painful feeling robs you of words to tell him to slow down and give you just a moment to breath. The tentacle inside of you swells and then everything grows a little slicker as Jimin chokes on a gasp. You struggle to reach out to grasp any one of the tentacles, to just lessen the sensations ravaging your pussy just a little, but before you can even make contact, another tentacle is wrapping around both wrists and dragging them above your head.

“J-Jimin, please…”

Jimin pays you no mind, tentacles working faster under his focused gaze and it doesn't take long for you to be thrown into a second orgasm, though it feels almost like the first one never ended. You cry out, much too loud even if the beach is seemingly deserted right now. You shudder as your orgasm crests and Jimin’s tentacle seems to stiffen inside you before you feel suddenly wetter and stickier and full. The tentacle slips out of you after a few weaker thrusts and a small gush of thick liquid follows and the tentacle suddenly seems much less enthusiastic than its counterparts. Fuck, did that mean…?

“Jimin,” you whine, waiting until he finally tears his gaze away from your dripping pussy. “Do… do your tentacles cum too?”

His head tilts in confusion. “Come?” He thinks for a moment before realization seems to overcome him. “Ah. Do you mean do my tentacles also release?”

Embarrassment creeps over you. Something so clinical shouldn’t have you aching to be filled again when you just came twice and apparently already filled. You nod shyly.

“Yes. They also release. It is to give the best chance of a successful mating.”

You swallow, eyeing the tentacles behind him wearily. “Do they all have to?”

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “They do not. Only the big ones release. And from those, they do not all release every mating.”

You feel equal parts relieved and disappointed, though you know that you should probably question your disappointment. But you’ve already come this far, no reason to start questioning your potentially bad decisions now.

He tilts his head. “Does it bother you? They do not need to do it near you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You choke, unsure how to respond for a moment. This whole situation should really terrify and appall you. But you only find yourself growing hotter at the idea of being used by his tentacles and covered in their cum. You chew your lip before giving a small nod.

His eyes trace over your face before he seems to light up and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “Does the thought of that arouse you, sweet? I must admit, most of my previous partners were less than enthused about that aspect of mating.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in your hands in shame but Jimin’s tentacles keep your hands studiously bound above your head. Even his own kind didn’t like it. Why were you so weird? He giggles, leaning down to brush your nose with his own. His face is set with a kind smile, but his eyes still dance with mirth and lust.

“I find it very arousing that you like it so much. Tell me what you are thinking about, sweet.”

To punctuate his words, another tentacle slips between your legs, rubbing along your sticky slit. You moan and Jimin’s eyes shine with fire. “I… was thinking about you fucking me and filling me up and leaving me all messy.”

He smirks. “I can do that, sweet. Just ask.”

“Jimin, please, fuck me… Fuck, ruin me…”

Jimin’s grin turns positively feral, sharp teeth on display. And for a moment, fear ripples through you as Jimin looks truly like a monster for the first time since he’s surfaced. But then his tentacles shift around him, eager for their chance to touch. Jimin shoos the thick tentacle away from your pussy, the ones around your thighs assisting him in situating you how he wants. He runs the tips of his cock through the mess left there by his tentacle and a pleased chirp leaves him.

“You are already so full. Do you think you can take more?” He purrs.

You nod and his cock presses against your entrance. He presses just the tip in and he stretches your pussy more than the tentacle did. You gasp, breath robbed from you as the stretch borders on too much. But Jimin seems to sense it and pauses with just the tip inside, allowing you all the time to adjust to his massive cock.

Jimin’s hands skim up your thighs, the tentacles resting passively on your clit once again coming to life and the jolt of pleasure has you squirming on Jimin’s cock. His hands rest on your hips, gripping them with bruising strength to keep you from moving. You whimper at the casual display of strength, at the way that he seems to not even be trying to hold you still while his tentacles slowly circle your clit to get you to relax.

Two other tentacles slip up your body, pressing against your breasts and kneading at the flesh experimentally. The sensation is different, while the tentacles don’t have the surface area the way a hand does, they are capable of moving in ways a hand simply can’t. They grope at the flesh, exploring and testing the limits. One brushes past your nipple, causing you to gasp and suddenly both are on the pebbled buds, playing with them to draw even more noises from you. Their motions mimic the motions on your clit and pleasure sparks across your body once again.

The tentacles shift slightly, long bodies draping down the sides of your breasts and then they press the mounds inwards, forcing the flesh together around the tentacle still resting on your sternum. Jimin grunts at the sudden pressure around his tentacle and your gaze drops to watch with fascination as the tentacle starts to thrust into the tight space, silvery tip gleaming with each press through.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of it slipping a little further up and into your mouth, of tasting that salty, sweet slick from the source. A high pitched noise sounds in Jimin’s throat as his hips stutter forward at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him and you moan as he slips a little further into you, stretching you just a little more. Now though, the stretch makes you ache for more, the burn finally passed with the aid of the tentacles playing with your clit and nipples and slowly pulling your pleasure back to the surface.

You really need him to be completely inside of you and when you dig your heels into his ass to try to get him to move, he seems hesitant. His tentacles, however, seem more than thrilled at the idea and more than happy to help you in your pursuit. The ones around your thighs tighten and pull you closer, until Jimin is buried to the hilt in the clutch of your pussy. The noise is filthy, the mess from his tentacle spilling out around his cock to smear on your thighs and drip down your ass.

Jimin goes rigid when he’s fully inside you, eyes trained on where you’re joined. He seems transfixed by the sight of your cunt swallowing down every inch he has. Your whine has his head snapping up to look at your face, drinking in the way you’re moaning. The tentacle between your breasts slips a little further up, tip bumping your chin once before it’s shifting to your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping through the salty fluid. Jimin shudders, hips flexing where they press into you and you let your mouth fall open for his tentacle to slip in.

Your tongue swirls around the tip and it squirms, pushing in further than you expect and causing you to gag. It pulls itself from your mouth with a pop and you frown at it’s loss before shifting your gaze to Jimin, who seems to be glaring at the tentacle like it did something wrong.

“Jimin?” When he looks at you, you give him an amused smile. “It’s okay. It just takes me a minute.”

His head tilts but the tentacle makes its way tentatively back to your mouth, hovering until you open again for it to slip back in. It goes a lot slower this time, keeping its thrusts shallow. You hum encouragingly, tongue pressing and massaging the underside as it moves and the tentacle slides a little deeper. You gag only slightly this time, much more prepared now, and after a few thrusts you grow used to the intrusion and it can slip just a little bit more down your throat.

Jimin watches for a moment before groaning and then he’s pulling his cock out until just the tip remains before slamming back in. You moan around his tentacle, noise muffled as it delves further down your throat. It stays there for a moment and the lack of oxygen has your head start to spin. Your hands twitch where they’re still bound above your head, but before the real need for oxygen comes and you have to try to alert Jimin that you need to breathe, the tentacle is pulling out, switching to shallow thrusts while you get a quick break to breathe. The sudden rush of oxygen has you feeling nearly euphoric and you can only hope that the tentacle does it again. When you whine around it, it pushes back into your throat and the rest of the whine is muffled by it’s girth.

Jimin’s fingers flex against your hips as he watches and feels how much of his tentacle slips into the waiting warmth of your mouth and with a moan he starts fucking into your pussy with a quick pace. Your hands grab at the tentacle binding you, needing something, anything, to ground yourself as Jimin fucks you senseless. You feel wholly overwhelmed at the way his cock fills you, the way the tentacles swirl around your clit, your nipples and breasts, at the way the one in your mouth begins to stiffen up.

The tentacles shift on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh once again before pinching at your nipples. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth and it gives a shudder before flooding your mouth and throat. You choke slightly, jerking your head slightly at the sheer volume being released into your mouth, far more than you can handle. Spit and cum drip from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to swallow and the tentacle pulls itself from your mouth before it's finished, painting the lower half of your face even more in its silvery essence. Jimin’s eyes gleam at the sight, seeming to become even more frantic with his thrusts.

“J-jimin…” You whine, voice rough from use. You’re not entirely sure what you’d finish that statement with.

“You are doing so well.” He coos and the praise has your mind going fuzzy. “You look so pretty like this.”

He reaches up, sliding a hand through the mess on your cheeks before letting his hand drag the mess back down your body, leaving a shiny trail down your throat, in the valley between your breasts and across your stomach. He slams in particularly hard and you cry out, voice echoing across the empty beach and ocean, much too loud but you no longer care.

Jimin glows golden, the light haloing him and your fucked out mind is sluggish to make sense of the sudden color change. Then you remember why you were out here to begin with and you make the connection just as the resounding boom of the firework follows just after the shower of color. The fireworks show must be finally starting because the next second Jimin is bathed in blue, then pink.

But as quick as your attention was taken by the colorful shadows splashed across Jimin’s beautiful face, it’s taken back as he shifts suddenly, hands leaving your hips to push your thighs together as he continues to fuck you. Your calves come to rest on one shoulder and Jimin uses the new position to fuck you even harder.

Something slick drags along the crease where your thighs are pressed together and a second later a tentacle is pushing into the tight space. Your skin tingles where it presses into your skin and with every thrust it makes through the tight press of your thighs, it bumps the tentacles on your clit. Jimin presses a kiss to your leg and you feel the breath leave him as his tentacle speeds up and he hisses.

The sensations are nearly overwhelming, to the point that you almost miss the new slim tentacle kneading the flesh of your ass. It delivers a pinch to the skin that leaves you gasping and you’re much more aware of it as it runs along the seam of your ass. You squirm, or at least attempt to, because between the tentacles restraining you and Jimin’s firm grip on your thighs, you’re left nearly immobile as you get fucked. The tentacle slips a little further up, gathering some slick before it’s dipping back down to prod at the tight ring of muscle of your hole.

You shudder and if you could move, you’d press down onto the tentacle, force it to fill you because you need it as much as you need Jimin’s cock in you. “Fuck, please, don’t tease…”

Jimin’s face is set in concentration and you don’t think he heard you, except a second later the tentacle breaches your ass. You moan, glad that it was a smaller one to start. It thrusts tentatively, growing bolder as your noises raise in pitch and then a second slim tentacle is joining, slipping past the tight ring of muscle to thrust in counterpoint to the first.

Jimin’s thrusts slow, his head tilting back as he pants. He looks like a sculpture, so beautiful that it aches a little. Something that people should look at and marvel over. A moan slips past his lips as the tentacles in your ass speed up a little, taking some time to also shift apart and spread you open even more.

“You… are endless…” Jimin breaths out. It sounds reverent.

The tentacles slip from you and you have no time to mourn the loss before they’re being replaced by one of the thicker tentacles. The stretch hurts a little, but with so many other things happening to your body at the same time, you’re quickly distracted from the ache. The tentacle stills anyway, allowing you time to adjust to its thick girth.

“You are so full of surprises.” He says, head dropping forward once more to let his gaze rake over your shuddering figure.

The tentacle in your ass thrusts in response to Jimin’s words and when you don’t indicate any pain, both pull out and thrust roughly back in. The tentacle between your thighs and in your ass thrust opposite Jimin, keeping you full and stimulated when Jimin pulls out.

“Please… Jimin please, fill me up, you said you would…” You feel slightly delirious with need, every thrust of his tentacle adds extra pressure to your clit and you feel so close to cumming, teetering on the edge.

Jimin gives you no verbal response, only that of him pressing your thighs together a little harder. A few more thrusts of the tentacle between your thighs has you clamping down on Jimin’s cock and the one in your ass as you cum, body shuddering as the tentacles and Jimin continue to thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut, vision nearly whiting out entirely as your orgasm slams into you. The tentacle between your thighs lasts only a handful more thrusts before its stiffening and releasing, splattering your chest, belly, and thighs in the silver cum. It gives a few weak final spurts before slipping back through your thighs as Jimin parts them once more.

His cock twitches as his gaze falls over you messy form, the normally silvery liquid lighting up in splashes of color with every new explosion that happens above you both. He’s never seen a more beautiful sight. One of his hands lands on your thigh as the other bats his tentacles away from your clit, an action that you're grateful for for only a moment because he quickly replaces them with his fingers. You arch and cry out, jerking your hands with enough force that you seem to startle the binding tentacle and it releases you. Your hands wrap around his wrist, tugging futilely at it to get him to let up.

You moan his name desperately, trying to squirm away from the sensation as his tentacles keep you held close as he continues to fuck you through your overstimulation.

“Can you do that for me one more time? You feel so good when you do that, sweet.”

You whimper. You want to say no, that it hurts a little and that you really don’t think you’re capable of another orgasm. But the pout he wears stops you and you find yourself nodding without even thinking about how you’re going to get past the too much feeling currently overwhelming your body.

Jimin gives you another feral grin, eyes roving over your figure as his fingers work quick circles around your clit. For no experience with a human, he’s an incredibly fast learner. He seems to know your body better than your ex had and the two of you had been together for almost 2 years.

The tentacles on your breasts move to collect some of the slick covering you, smearing it around your nipples as the pinch and play with them, the slick adding a new layer of feeling to the actions.

“Come on, sweet.” Jimin purrs as his cock seems to swell ever more and the tentacle in your ass starts to stiffen.

Another rough thrust and a few twists of his fingers and you’re cumming again with a cry of his name. Your pussy and ass convulses around him and Jimin lets out a series of clicks and chirps as he finally cums, flooding your pussy and ass with more silvery slick. There seems to be a never ending stream from his cock and after a few moments, pressure on your lower stomach makes you look down, groaning at the sight of your slightly distended belly.

Jimin makes a contented noise, rubbing gently over the swell. “You would look so beautiful swollen with my children.”

His cock gives another twitch and a feeble last spurt of cum and Jimin and his tentacles seem to deflate. His chin presses to his chest as he takes in slow, deep breaths. The tentacles all slowly slip from your body and you mourn the slight warmth you lose. Another few moments pass and then Jimin is gingerly pulling his cock from your abuse pussy and gazing over your whole body with almost reverence.

You feel too exhausted to do much more, but you can feel his cum dripping from you, forming a puddle beneath your ass. At least you're next to the ocean for easy clean up. If you had the energy to do that. Maybe in 5 minutes… Or an hour. You can’t even feel your legs right now. You’re pretty sure you’d just drown.

Jimin stretches out beside you, arm coming to wrap around your middle, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it lands in a mess. You blearily realize that his tentacles seem much smaller now too. His head tilts and you realize that he’s watching the fireworks again. Like he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you ruined for anyone who comes after him.

You watch in silence for a while, endeared by Jimin’s ohs and ahs as he discovers new types of fireworks, the different shapes and effects that can happen.

“Jimin.” You call softly. His nose brushes your shoulder in response. “Will… Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

Jimin pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at you, frown marring his pretty face. “What is it?”

You fidget, suddenly hating that you’re naked and still covered in him. You glance over at the water.

“Do you wish to go in, sweet?”

It’s an easy out and you don’t feel strong enough to ask the real question yet, so you give him a simple nod. He grins, scooping you up and gracefully sliding you both into the water, arm wrapped tight around your middle to keep you afloat.

Colors flash around you as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, every color reflected there as well. Before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. He lets out a surprised noise and then giggles when you pull away.

“Do you wish to go again?”

Embarrassment fills you and you shake your head. “No. Um…” You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Will I see you again?”

Jimin’s face is unreadable for a painful stretch of time, though you’re sure it’s only a few seconds before he’s grinning. “I find myself quite taken by humans. I could certainly use a guide.”

You grin back, pecking him again. “First lesson, when humans like someone and want to spend time with them and go on dates, they give them kisses.”

He hums, giving you a kiss of his own, just a little deeper than yours. “I think I quite like kisses.” Then he grins and it’s full of mischief. “I think fireworks are my favorite though.”

You snort, prodding him with a finger. “You sure it’s the fireworks you like?”

He makes a thoughtful noise before nodding. “They make you luminous, sweet.”

#bangtanarmynet #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb event 2020 #tsb collab 2020 #monster au #tentacle au

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Hello, this is the first time I’ve come here and I’d like, if possible, you could place my order, I don’t remember if I already placed that ask or something, so if yes, sorry to bother you...

I can order something with Yandere! Vampire with a Vampire Slayer! Reader, please...

Welcome in!

Well yes boo, you did make a very similar request, and I'm sorry if it took me like a long time to answer you (at least to me it feels like a whole month has passed, time has been so slow and so fast somehow-) it's just that I'm dealing with a lot of stuff outside of Tumblr and although I try to not think about it, it does affect my performance in writing. Also you're not bothering me at all boo!

Also I just realized something, normally when I write I put really mean remarks about the reader but it's not supposed to be taken seriously by you guys, as it's mostly either an look into the perspective of the ocs (normally the bullies who are very mean and cruel-) or even an exaggeration on the reader's current mind state (if the reader feels dumb about a certain action they have chosen, I try to make them sound very exaggerated since I don't want any of you to take it personally, y'all are beautiful okay? Don't worry about the snarky comments and rude remarks that I may write).

I'll try to make it more obvious that it's mostly a character's exaggerated perspective next time, or maybe put trigger warnings about degrading language/mean comments.

TW/Tags: mentions of addiction (to blood) // male x male // male reader // vampy vamp // monster(vampire) x (human)reader // mentions of death // unofficial OC/just a random character I decided to create for this specific piece // captivity/kidnaping // mentions of torture/infliction of pain // mind control/gaslighting/manipulation and stockholm syndrome // being drugged/poisoned // kinda sadistic but not so much so cause I like giving y'all some softness.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

True love is found in small bites [Yandere!M!Vampire x M!Vampire Hunter!Reader - Headcanon]:

Who doesn't like a little one on one with an immortal creature in a fight filled with sexual tension? Who wouldn't want to prove their worth to their dad who is a lonely vampire hunter?

Your dad had hunted vampires all by himself for years now and he won't stop until the day he drops dead, or at least that's what he told you.

He taught you everything that you needed to know, and honestly- You probably know a lot more than some of the guys who are paid to do this every month, Hell, your dad hunts them basically every week! That's kinda the reason why he won't accompany you this time, too busy dealing with vampires in a neighboring village, some rumours of some high profiled vampires coming into your hometown… He was very concerned for your safety before deciding that whenever these rumours were true or not, he needed to check them for himself regardless.

You decided to go on a hunt on your own, hunt one down and prove to your man that you'll do just fine all by yourself.

However, you have the knowledge from the books you read and from what your father taught you, but you don't have personal experiences in fighting vampires. So that's why you're finally going to take down a vampire all by yourself.

It took you some time to find the right target, but after hearing complaints about some odd things happening in the less wealthy part of town, you thought you had a pretty clear picture of what happened. You thought that maybe some vampires have been attacking the poorest people in town to not cause a bigger panic in the population, and sadly enough, you were right.

Apparently the vampirism started to spread uncontrollably as the newly transformed vampires weren't accustomed with the new malevolent power. Some would get addicted to blood and to the power they hold against humans, and start to bite more than what they can chew on.

You found someone who was acting suspiciously, a commoner who was acting more aggressively towards his neighbors and family, he had created a lot of enemies in only a couple of days after being transformed, as he was now acting like "royalty" surrounded by peasants. The poor bastard was out of his mind, and sadly you needed to take care of him before he would hurt more people.

The work of a vampire slayer (or at least, one who works on their own accord) isn't as glamorous or "pleasant" as most may think, it involves you constantly questioning yourself and your morals, the guy you're hunting has a family but from what you heard and from what you have seen as you observed him from afar- He is clearly gone, consumed by the addiction of human blood, he would end up hurting his own family if you didn't intervene.

You had to stalk him for basically the whole day, collecting information and waiting for a good opportunity to strike him- Sadly enough, you didn't know that someone else was also interested in killing him.

It was pretty quick now that you think about it- You were about to tackle him when someone else got to do it before you. You didn't know about vampire society's inner relationships but you are aware that there is some form of hierarchy, and that those who were transformed into vampires were considered to be closer to the bottom than those who were born into it. The bottom of their social structure being those who they could all feed on, so in other words humans.

As you have already prepared yourself to attack the blood addictic, this guy who seemed to have come out of nowhere has already noticed that he wasn't alone, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself at this point and running wouldn't be an option considering how fast he moved.

The only option was left was to fight this vampire who was clearly way too powerful for your newbie ass. It was a pretty tough fight, and even if you have lost- You did manage to prove that you weren't just a random human who found themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

You were very well prepared- Idris was pretty impressed by your resistance, but from his eyes, you were lacking a lot in the intelligence department. You were a good brawler, but not a decent vampire slayer by far- He would question you about your level of skill constantly, even mocking the idea of you being an "newbie" at this job.

Idris had won in the end, making you his prisoner who he would bring back to his clan to be used as an easy food source while also giving them info about other vampire slayers. Of course you wouldn't give them anything, no matter how bad your situation was you would still fight to the very end.

Idris had used one of his abilities to bring you two to his clan's hideout in a blink of an eye, you weren't expecting it to be so quick. You were tied up and inside an "abandoned" mansion filled with vampires, you were sure you wouldn't survive this at all- Yet you had promised yourself to not give them any information about other vampires slayers, especially your father.

You have met them, all of them- All of the Nox clan of pure vampires (or at least the last of them), in one single place. They were all so eager to jump in and start the "fun" with you. To torture you, drink from you, control your mind so you would spill all that you know, they tried to but you wouldn't stop squirming and fighting their touch- However, your attitude has only helped to aggravate them.

Idris was in charge of taking care of you- And by that they meant he was the one who would be screwing with you the most. He would keep you alive with your bare necessities but would also be the one to punish and torture you to speak up.

Interestingly enough, Idris wasn't interested in violently taking the truth out of you- Oh no, boo- He was much more sadistic than that.

He saw you as a plaything, like a cat he would see you as something he should toy with before devouring- He would try to push you to your limits verbally, trying to trigger some sort of wound you may have. You were stronger than he assumed, he should have known you weren't so dumb to give in to his insults and threats.

He would still bite you though, hey, a man needs some blood before continuing his private interrogation, right? It's not his fault you're both his snack and the one being interrogated.

You were strong minded, you weren't feeling too awful about being taken as a prisoner, since you felt as if deep down you could still escape this- So the effects of the poison that he would inject on you weren't showing up at first, but after sometime of being under this terrible living condition with only him to talk with, you started to feel some type of weird way around him.

It could be the poison finally taking over, but you have started to notice some… Particular choices that Idris took when interacting with you. Again- It could be all some magic shit in your mind, but you could swear that the lingering touches from him weren't rough or painful as his threats.

Idris was never physically harmful towards you, even to his peers dismay as they would constantly scold him for being too soft. He was indeed very off putting and sadistic- But could he be hiding something deep inside his literally cold exterior? You started to think so… Well, you started to hope so.

See, although the poison is already making your mind dizzy and making you feel some kind of weird attraction towards Iris- It wasn't completely just your mind playing tricks on you, Idris has been trying a new tactic with you and it was working.

Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but for the last few weeks he has started to flirt with you more, touch you more and whisper less concerning things into your ears, and you were eating it all up due to your isolation and his poisonous bite.

The more he sucked your blood, the more enamoured you were with his softer "side", the poison becoming stronger with each bite. But everyday you two spend time together, Idris can't help but feel just as interested in you as you are to him. He may play it off as a sadistic manipulative (which he kinda is-) vampire who is above you and his own feelings- But whenever it's just you and him, he just feels like there is a bigger connection being formed.

The more you two get to know each other the more he'll start falling for you, to the point he doesn't know if he is faking empathy and care or if he actually likes you in a weird way. He has started to feel very satisfied whenever you start acting clingy, desperate even for his attention (again- He is the only one willing to even talk with you before biting you and sucking your blood), the sensation of power he feels is a little bit overwhelming- But very much appreciated.

You have started to feel some side effects from losing so much blood everyday, which has made Idris concerned and incapable of drinking from you for at least some time while you recover from it. But since you need some time to rest without being injected with more venom from fangs, which will cause you to start waking up from your brainwashed state and remember that A: It has been months since you were gone, your dad is out there looking for you and it's possibly thinking you're dead; B: You're trapped in a mansion filled with the last vampires of a powerful clan which has been massacred by vampire slayers like you; and C: You were starting to catch feelings for the one who brought you here- Regardless of manipulation and freaky vampire shit- You were indeed falling for his charm.

Whenever that happens, it will be obvious that you'll start trying to fight them and escape again, even if you're very, very weak from all these months without proper training and healthy eating habits.

You may try your hardest dear, but you'll need a better plan than just going feral on Idris. He is a lot stronger than you, especially since you can't even stand up on your own, and even hurting him makes you feel oddly awful- You had relied on him for so long, that it feels like you would be betraying him if you actually do hurt him, it seems like some of the effects of so much time under his manipulation are still present.

You can't hurt him, but you can still try to sneak out. You should still try to escape!

You would eventually come up with a plan to run away while it was still morning, even if it was a very flawed plan considering that the only place you knew in this entire mansion was Idris's room and bathroom. For some miracle reason, you would find a way to sneak out, it was pretty hard considering you have no strength in your legs, yet luckily no one seemed to be aware of your sudden movement around the corridors- Apparently the whole clan is composed of heavy sleepers.

Your escape was successful, but you wouldn't be able to reach safety anytime soon in your condition- And you knew that eventually they would wake up again and Idris would find you soon. Yet as you had promised yourself and your father, you weren't going down without a fight.

Idris is responsible for you, so whenever he notices that you were gone- He would first assume one of his kind has took you, but considering how everyone else in the clan considers him to be a nuisance and incompetent, he couldn't possibly ask around where were you. If he did, they would end up yelling at him and take you as their personal blood bag- He couldn't let them know that you have escaped.

He would search for you and be honest to god thankful that you weren't dead yet- He would be pissed but more concerned about your current state, after all you were supposed to be resting from losing so much blood and yet here you are: Trying to survive the wild nature around the mansion in a stupid attempt of escaping the vampires.

Idris would have to bite you more often while also giving some days off so you could rest, but doing in a way that you never lose the effects of the poison- He can't stand to see you fighting him so much.

I mean- He thinks that it's pretty attractive how fiesty you are, but he needs you to stay still in his bedroom and to start giving him those confused yet passionate eyes again- Idris doesn't know whether or not you're in love with him or is just acting in instinct considering your current position, and he soon will find himself begging for you to truly give in to this weird fantasy he has built around you two- But for now, all that he wants is the smallest affection that may come from you, even if it's not as true and morally correct as true love is supposed to be.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #yandere vampire x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere male #male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere monster #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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sableseb · 3 years

Text

Illusion

Jack Benjamin x escort!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: allusions to homophobia, sex work, smut, rough & quick, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degradation

The events that have unfolded in the past couple of days lay scattered in Jack’s mind. He paces the expanse of his lavish quarters thinking of how his life went to shit this fast. His mother and father know. They know how he craves the touch of a man. His father told him to hide it, hide the feelings he has and never let them resurface. His mother slapped him for saying he loved another man. He pushed his secret lover away for the sake of his reputation. Now, the whole court is questioning him, hanging his sexuality over his head in case they ever need to bring him down.

His parents explicitly stated that to be King, he must put away his sinful, lust fueled desires for the same sex. This kingdom his father built is based on the Christian faith and what sort of God fearing kingdom would want a King that kisses men? What a joke. It always leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling of not being accepted in his stomach.

As Jack looks out of his bedroom window to the twinkling night life below, he makes a decision. To him, being King is above his true feelings. He’ll follow his parents wishes like the good little soldier he always is. He’ll keep up his playboy, panty dropper act for the sake of the crown resting atop of his head one day.

They want a ladies man? They’ll get one, they’ll see he’s worthy of the crown. He may prefer sleeping with men, but that doesn’t mean he has a disdain for the feeling of a cock drunk broad wrapped around him. And luckily for him, his suave attitude and pretty boy face works like a charm each time he needs a quick fuck.

He knows of a night club that’s crawling with bachelors, married men, and even women looking for a good time, with their night ending by taking one of the ladies who work there home and finding pleasure in between the sheets.

Jack pulls out his cell and taps the first number in his contacts. He bites his nails on the hand currently occupying the phone in anticipation for what he has planned tonight. It’s sure to get everyone off his dick.

It rings for a beat before a, “Hello?” cracks through the speaker.

“Louis? It’s Jack. I’m going out tonight. Make sure all the paparazzi knows. Tell them I’ll be at Pyre.” he says hastily while going around his room searching for his coat.

The line is silent for a moment. Louis knows not to question Jack’s requests when he gets that oddly, erratic tone in his voice. Without a second thought Louis says, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

Jack ends the call and makes his way out of the castle down to the city goers below. There’s a slight chill in the air that goes unnoticed by the people in barely there clothing looking for their next party spot. He brushes through the crowds to his desired destination. Bright, neon colors light up the whole block and to his right, he sees it. Sultry, red cursive lettering spelling out, “Pyre.”

He’s met with flashing cameras and yelling at the front entrance of the club. Good to know Louis is still a worthy asset. He flashes that pearly, white smile that borders boyish charm and slyness. The King and Queen’s son is always a hot topic in the press. And he’s sure that after tonight, he’ll be a hot topic nationwide.

As he steps through the club’s threshold, he’s met with darkness and thumping music. The only source of light coming from the strobes that bounce across the sweat soaked bodies grinding against one another.

He starts to assess the women and sees you. Clad in a silver dress that falls just below that round ass and heels that accentuate those long legs leaning against the bar stool. You’re perfect. Perfect enough for him to already sport a hard on.

He makes his way to you with a certain air of confidence that only he seems to possess. He comes up beside you and leans into your ear to, rather loudly, say over the bass, “The name’s Jack. And I’d really love to have some company tonight.”

You turn to face the man that made his presence known and take him in. Oh, so the prince is the one who needs a good fucking. You’d be lying if you said that this moment in time didn’t give you an ego trip. You’ve always thought about what it would be like to press your lips to his perfect pout and stare into those baby blues as he takes you apart ever since he graced the cover of VOGUE.

You smirk into your drink. “I know a prince when I see one, Mr. Benjamin.”

He figured as much you’d recognize him. All the kingdom knows of him and his risque reputation.

“Then, I’m guessing you won’t deny a prince of his request? I pay handsomely.” he states matter of factually.

He honestly didn’t have to pay you to do anything he desires. You’d have dropped on your knees in the middle of this club if that’s what he wanted. And little did you know, that’s close to what he needed your assistance for in the first place.

With a hefty transaction and a few drinks, you’re walking arm in arm with Jack to the hotel he rented a room in. You feel like a celebrity. A devilishly handsome man on your right, paparazzi on your left, and thousands in cash sitting nice and pretty in your purse. You just hope he’s a decent lay. You haven’t had one of those in awhile. Most of the men you’ve worked with didn’t even make you cum, always left you high and dry. But, the cash they guaranteed was worth the disappointment.

He walks up to the lobby desk and asks for his key card. As the lobbyist searches for the correct one labeled “Benjamin” your gaze drifts. This place is nice to say the least. It’s sleek and mature. A complete contrast to the man next you with his bright eyes and plush face.

After acquiring the card that’ll seal your fate for a one night stand, you both make your way to the elevator. You decide to make the first move once the doors close. Your sexual attraction getting the best of you. As the numbers ticked up, you turn to face the Adonis. You fist his jacket between your hands to pull him in close and whisper low in his ear, “Ya know, Jack,” you let your lips graze his ear with each word you speak, “I really hope you live up to that title you carry.”

Your hand rubs down, starting at his chest and snaking its way down his toned stomach to cup his dick through his pants. Jack’s breath hitches as you languidly palm him. Little shocks of pleasure spike across his spine. He’s a bit taken back from this forwardness you possess. No one ever showed a dominant side with him. He’s the one always in control. And he’s keeping it that way.

He runs his large hands along your curves causing you to lean into him even more before he takes your hand off him and retches your arm back. You’re spun around with such force that your mouth hangs open in shock. He roughly pulls you against him, trapping your aching arm between your back and his firm body.

“Listen real close, baby.” he spits, words laced with venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the one in charge. So, be a good little whore and keep it in your panties until we get to the room.”

The elevator dings and he lets you go, only to grab your hand and practically drag you to the suite. You take note of the wetness that’s pooled in the flimsy fabric between your legs from the little altercation. This little playboy has a rough side, and you can’t wait to see just how rough he can get.

His slender, ringed fingers put the key card to the scanner until the light turns green and you're swept away into the most luxurious room you’ve ever stepped foot in. Dull lights make the blue hues and black tones even that much more alluring. A giant mirror hangs above a bed fit for a prince and the large windows show the city in all its glory.

Jack stalks over towards the window sitting in the middle of the large room. He sees men with cameras still mingling about below trying to get some shots of him and his latest conquest. He’ll give these sleazy excuses of people the shots they desire and more.

You shed your coat and purse before making your way towards the hulking figure near the window. You can tell something plagues his mind. It’s not hard to sense when he looks like a lost puppy in the moon’s hue.

He glances at you as he moves to stand behind you. He pulls you in close by your waist and brushes your hair away from your neck. His fingers are so feather like you almost couldn’t register them. His lips though, you can feel them just fine as they pepper kisses and bites along your neck.

“City’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks in between his sucking and biting. Creating little patch works of art across the expanse of your skin.

You’re in a trance and all you can do is hum in agreement. The feeling of his hands groping the soft flesh of your hips and his lips dragging along the base of your neck has you silently enjoying the attention. The only sounds coming from you are whimpers and breathy moans.

It’s a symphony to Jack’s ears. He finds your sounds more beautiful than anything Haydn conducted. He may just want sex, but he knows how to appreciate the beauty he finds in the people he beds. He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole with a taste for the human form.

He places your hands against the window and kicks your legs apart. “What’re you doing?” you ask in slight concern.

As he’s making quick work of discarding his clothes he simply states, “I’m going to fuck you while the city watches.”

What? You couldn’t have heard him right. There’s people down there that could easily see, there’s a million dollar mattress made for a rough fucking. A window is not what you wanted. But, what you want doesn’t matter in your profession and it certainly doesn’t matter to the prince as he pushes his naked body against your clothed one, trapping you against the cold glass.

He hikes your dress up past your hips and stares at the pretty lace thong sitting between your full ass. He grabs at the flesh, pawing and kneading before landing a harsh slap. You jerk against the glass and you feel the sting go straight to your core.

The cool metal of his rings soothe over the places he strikes, easing the burn. His cock is leaking at the site of you spread out for him and the whole world to see.

“You see all the cameras below us, baby?” he asks while rutting his aching member against you. You can feel his precum sticking to your skin. He reaches around your body and pulls your breasts from the confines of the sparkling material of your dress. He starts treating your chest like he did your ass just moments ago. His rings catch your nipple with each grope of your chest making you mewl and arch back against him.

“Make sure to smile pretty, cause you’re going to show them how good I fuck this cunt.”

He rips your panties down your legs and stands between them. You’re soaked for him. And the thought of people watching as he uses you makes you even more wet. You feel him rub his dick through your sticky folds. He bumps your clit a few times and your legs shake with each pass of his bulbous tip against your bundle of nerves.

He slowly pushes in. Your walls welcome him as he bottoms out with ease and you're both letting out pleasured groans. “Oh, fuck.” you gasp. The feeling of his thick cock resting inside you makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. He’s almost hurting you with his size. And so, you try to scoot up a bit to relieve the ache he’s creating.

He grabs your throat, jerking you back up to him. You let out a pained cry. You’re trying to adjust, truly, but he isn’t helping you.

“Nuh uh.” he growls. “You’re going to take what I give you, slut.”

The bit of gentleness he showed you was just the calm before the storm. He forces your face against the window and starts to thrust in and out. His pace is hard and rough. His grip on your scalp helps with leverage. He knows you’re enjoying the stroke of his dick with the screams you let out and the way your pussy is pulsing around him.

“God, how is a whore this tight?” he leans in towards your face, taking in the sickly sweet fragrance you adorn and pants against your neck, “You like being watched don’t you, my dirty girl? I know you do because this,” he lands a smack against your pulsing cunt, “is milking me.”

You let the degrading words help you towards your climax. He’s hitting that spot inside you just right. His balls are hitting your clit with each sharp snap of his hips and it’s all too much. You can barely hold yourself up, the only anchor you have is his firm hold across your stomach.

You both notice the flash of the cameras going off, but it doesn't faze you, you both love it. It makes both of your senses heightened. The thought of these pictures plastered on every magazine and news station has Jack gripping your hair even harder and driving into with such force you fear the glass may crack.

“Jack,” you cry. “Oh, fuck right there. Harder.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth to silence your pleas. “Shut up, bitch.”

He forces your head back and the new angle your body creates has tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure he’s giving you is borderline painful. But, his tight grip across your mouth and the delicious force of his dick has you wanting more.

Jack can tell you’re getting close because it’s getting harder to pull out of your tightness. He takes his hand that's in your hair and braces it against your hip, making you fuck yourself against him.

“You wanna cum, baby? Go ahead. Show em’ how this cunt swallows me up.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You scream behind the palm of his hand. You can’t seem to catch your breath, your lungs ache from the air he’s keeping you from. You’re practically lifeless as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release.

“Shit...” he gasps. The vice-like grip you have on him has him snapping his hips against you faster. Jack feels his lower stomach tighten and his balls constrict before he pulls out and finishes on your lower back, just below the bunched up fabric. He takes a moment to admire the mess he created on you. He’s sure his plan of fucking a woman so openly will diminish any doubts about him and who he beds.

He pulls on his underwear and makes his way to the bar occupying the corner of the room to make himself a drink. You take a moment to catch your breath and drag your body from the condensed window pain. Your hair is wild, makeup smeared, and you have cum stuck to your thighs and back. You feel more used than usual. But, this prick just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you’d do it all over again.

You straighten yourself up as much as you can before turning around and being met with a steely, blue gaze. “Congrats, sweetheart.” he smirks, taking a drink from whatever concoction he created, smacking his lips. “You’re a star.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #jack benjamin #jack benjamin smut #jack benjamin x reader #kings

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 2

Word Count: 4,845

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Well you guys have spoken and it looks like this the fic you wanted posted. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the others soon. But in case you were wondering where we left. Our reader was in Vegas at a bachelorette party, when she had a few too many drinks and wound up married to one Jacob Markstrom. Let’s see what happens next. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

"Fuck," you yelled, once you realized that you were now Mrs. Markstrom. This couldn't be happening. Your brain couldn't be remembering things right.

"Vad? Vada r fel?" Jacob mumbled in a haze of sleep, lifting his head to check on you. You had no idea that he was asking you what was wrong, as he automatically defaulted to Swedish in his drowsy state. "Are you ok?"

"No, no I'm not." Your voice was panicked and you were starting to break out in a cold sweat. "We're married!"

His head flopped back down on the pillow. "Oh, that."

Wait he knew and wasn't saying anything. "That," you said with a note of distress in your voice. "What do you mean 'oh, that?'"

He turned his head so that he faced you, as you straightened your body so you could rest against the headboard; fighting the urge to get up and pace the room. "It was a joke. We just took a couple pictures with some Elvis."

A joke? Ok, that kind of seemed like drunk you, after all everyone said you were a fun drunk. You sagged back against the mattress, breathing a sigh of relief. "So that's all it was, a joke?"

"Mmmhmm." Well, that made you feel a bit better. "From what I remember it was. Things are a bit hazy." Jacob saying that, did not. He got up then, rolling onto his side and propping his head up. "I vaguely recall saying we were just going to snap some pictures and show your friend how silly it was to rush into things. I'm sure that's all we did." He had to be right, that part of the night still eluded you, though you do remember wandering into the chapel. "Though we can still pretend we're on our honeymoon if you want."

His free hand, the one his head wasn't propped up on, slid under the duvet and across your midsection. His fingers wandering down to your core. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, a silent plea for you to let him keep going. Now that you were a bit more relieved at knowing your marriage to him was some elaborate rouse, you were a bit more inclined for that second round with him, so you smiled giving him the green light to continue.

Jacob didn't need to be told twice, as you felt his fingers widening your legs to give him access to your pussy. His fingertips lightly brushed against you and you sucked in a breath. "Fan du ar vat." You had to admit that Swedish wasn't the most seductive language, but when it rolled off his tongue it turned you into jelly. He recognized that you didn't know what he was saying and translated for you. "Fuck, you're wet." You were, there was no denying that, as this man just did things to you by simply giving you a look.

He wasted no time sliding a finger inside you while his thumb brushed against your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as he made your body tingle with delight. "So sensitive, prinsessa. I love that." His mouth kissed the outside of your thigh as he still laid on his side, his fingers torturing you. "I may not remember all of last night," Jacob admitted. "But I remember hearing you moan." As if on cue, you groaned out when his finger hit your most delicate spot. "So pretty." He removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of contact. "Ride me, prinsessa." He rolled onto his back, giving your thigh a squeeze.

There was no denying your needs right then. You wanted him inside you, so you straddled him. Knees on either side of his hips, you positioned his cock right at your entrance. You savored the feel of him sliding inside you as you sunk down on him slowly, fully engulfing his dick inside you. Jacob's hands slid up and down your sides caressing your body. After your tumble with him last night, you knew your hair had to be a disaster, so you ran your fingers through your locks, hoping to at least make yourself a bit more presentable as you rode him.

Unbeknownst to you, the picture you painted Jacob was nothing short of pornography; arms raised above your head, tits bouncing, as you slowly moved your hips against him. While his memory of last night was a bit hazy, being buried inside you wasn’t. He clearly recalled needing to get ahold of himself before he spent in you too soon. Now was no different, as he gripped your hips hard then wildly bucked up into you.

His movements thrilled you and had you bracing yourself against the headboard as he fucked you. He had told you to ride him but wasn’t willing to give over the reigns completely, but that was ok with you. He slowed his thrusts, giving you back just a bit of control, yet his hands lingered at your waist ready to take it back at any minute. You ran your hands up your side, then cupped your breasts, gently pulling on the nipples. “My god, you’re beautiful,” Jacob panted out as you looked down at him through hooded lashes.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room. Jacob’s fingertips dug into your ass cheeks as you picked up your pace, riding him earnestly now. His hips met you every time you ground down on him. At one point Jacob couldn’t take it anymore and he moved his one hand so he could toy with your clit. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out when he rubbed the little nub. “Jacob…I’m gonna…” The rest was a garbled mess as you came hard grinding down on his rock-hard cock inside you.

“Yes, prinsessa.” Jacob watched you fall apart loving every emotion that played across your face. It pushed him over the edge and with a few more thrusts he spilled his cum deep inside your cunt.

Your body was spent as you sagged forward on top of Jacob. You were both breathing hard, chest heaving in an effort to draw in more air. After a few seconds, you felt his lips on you; kissing your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips. The kiss was sweet and loving, perfect after the sweaty and exhausting sex that had just happened. “Min vackra prinsessa,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear as it had cascaded around the two of you obscuring his view of your face. “Too bad our marriage is a joke, for I could get used to that.”

“We don’t have to be married for you to enjoy that again.” You pecked his lips then lifted off of him and rolled onto your side of the bed. “Come see me in LA anytime.”

“You realize I’ll be there at least four times with my schedule, and San Jose isn’t too far from you.” His body was turned towards you so that you could see the seriousness in his face.

“Well, I expect to be seeing my fake husband when he’s in town.” You gave him a little wink before adding, “And I think the trip to San Jose would be totally worth it.” He got up then and walked to the bathroom. You heard the water running and it wasn’t more than a minute or two before he was back at the bed.

“Here.” He brought you a glass of water and a couple aspirin. It was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you.”

“Sleep, it’s still early, then we’ll shower later.” He dropped a kiss to your lips while tucking the covers up around then crawling into bed with you. He tucked you into his side and you swiftly drifted back to sleep.

It was a couple hours later that Jacob woke up before you. His mind troubled with thoughts. It wasn’t a bad dream so much as a nagging feeling eating away at him. He carefully removed himself from the bed careful not to disturb you as you continued to sleep on peacefully. Covering himself with a pair of boxer briefs, he grabbed a bottle of water then sat down on the sofa in the suite. On the table lay the pictures from your fake wedding. He picked them up, laughing to himself at the photo on top. It was a dramatic shot of him asking you to marry him, and you acting shocked. He vaguely remembered doing that but the rest was all a blur. He leafed through the other shots. One of a fake Elvis, which seemed to be typical Vegas style, another of you kissing him after the proposal, still more of you being married by Elvis. They would all make for a cute memory of his time with you. Hell, part of him wished that he was married to you. He wouldn’t mind being buried balls deep in you every night.

Jacob finally got to the last photo, or what he thought was the last picture; only it was some sort of document. He flipped it so that he could read it better. “Fuck,” he whispered softly as he read the words so nicely scripted across the paper. It seemed to be a marriage license, signed not only by both of you but the Elvis impersonator as well, whose name wasn’t Elvis and seemed to be a legitimately licensed marriage officiant.

He needed to find out if this was real, so grabbing the hotel phone off the end table, he called the chapel. “Hello Mr. Markstrom, how can I help you?” An overly cheerful woman answered the phone.

“Um, yeah, so I was wondering…I was there last night with…” He had to look down at the license to remember your last night. “Ms. (Y/LN) and I have our license in my hand. I was just wondering how valid this is?”

“Oh, I can assure you Mr. Markstrom that it is one hundred percent authentic and has been filed electronically with the courthouse. You and Ms. (Y/LN) are indeed married. We make sure to dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s before we let you leave.”

Jacob covered the phone then muttered, “Fuck.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, um…I’m good. Thank you.”

“No problem and congratulations again to you and the new Mrs. Markstrom.”

Jacob hung up the phone and swore furiously in Swedish. You stirred, hearing something but not really registering what was going on, as you blinked your eyes several times clearing the sleep from them. The bed was empty next to you, and you found yourself sitting up looking for Jacob. He wasn’t in the bathroom, so you got up and padded out to where the seating area was. Sure enough there he was sitting with his head in his hand. “Head hurt that bad?” He groaned in reply. “Come back to bed and I’ll make it feel better.”

He lifted his head up and turned to you then, a serious look in his eyes. “You’re not going to like this, prinsessa.” Well, if he was calling you princess again, it couldn’t be all bad. You raised an eyebrow in query. “Apparently, we’re married.”

“Right, you told me it was a joke.” You sat down on the couch beside him, noticing the scattered photos on the table. “See, like I would ever get married by some Elvis doppelganger.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” He handed over what looked like a marriage license, a very authentic one at that. Leave it to Vegas to be thorough even in practical joking. “There’s a seal on it and everything.” He was right there, but that would mean that this was real.

“Oh, no….no, no, no….no. This isn’t real. You said…”

“I know what I thought, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. So I called.” There was a look of dread on his face. "The paperwork has already been filed at the courthouse. Yay for technology."

You knew he was trying to find a bit of humor in this mess, but frankly, you didn't find it funny at all. "Now what?"

"I was just trying to come up with that when you came in."

It hit you then, the solution to your problem. Maybe if you hadn't drunk enough alcohol to float a small ship last night it would've come to you sooner. "We'll just get an annulment."

"Is that possible, after last night and well this morning?"

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. Well, divorce it is." It wasn't ideal and you can't imagine having to explain it down the line, years from now, when you finally found someone you wanted to be tied down to, but it was the answer to your problem.

Jacob seemed to mull it over a bit, and it struck you that he might be religious and that this might not be an option after all. "I'll make a phone call," he finally told you and you breathed out a sigh of relief. It took the two of you several minutes to locate your phones but eventually, you found them. While Jacob called his lawyer, you checked your messages. There were several texts from the girls saying they were heading to breakfast, so you shot one off yourself. There was no way you were meeting them yet, so you cried off stating that you were still hungover from the day before. You were really going to need to patch things up with Kennedy after all this trip was about her. Hopefully, you could share a laugh with her about this whole mess.

A curse word muttered, or at least you thought it was, one in Swedish, brought you back to the situation at hand, and you looked at Jacob expectantly. "Apparently, it's not as easy as we think." He blew out a very frustrated sigh. "It's still doable, but it's going to take a lot longer than I expected."

"How long?"

"A couple months after the papers are signed and filed, possibly more."

"What!?! You've got to be kidding me." That didn't make any sense at all. Shouldn't you be able to get a quickie divorce in a week when both parties were in agreement?

"Well, my citizenship is one factor, but apparently it just takes that kind of time."

"We got married in like, what...seconds. I don't understand." You started scrolling through your contacts looking for Aaron's number, then hit it and started to walk away.

"Who are you calling?"

"A friend, who's also an attorney." Aaron worked for the same firm as you, only in the legal department. Surely he'd dealt with a celebrity or two that had this same problem.

You gave Aaron the condensed version of what happened, hoping that he'd come through and be your savior. "I hate to say it (Y/N), this Jacob's attorney is right. It's going to take you that long, if not longer." A growl of frustration was all you gave as an answer. "Cheer up babe, it could be worse."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, you could've picked some homeless guy off the street. At least this one sounds decent, and it's not like you have to move to Canada or Sweden while you wait this out. Just go on about your business."

"I know, you're right. Thanks for your help, Aaron. I'll see you in a day or two." With that, you hung up the phone and headed back to Jacob.

"Looks like you didn't fare any better."

You sat heavily down on the couch. "No, not at all. Looks like we better start filing so we can get this done sooner than later." The look in Jacob's eye had you questioning things. You had thought you both were on the same page. Sure last night and this morning were fun, but what did you really know about each other. He couldn't really be thinking about staying married. When you couldn't take it any longer, you blurted out, "what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." When you gave him that look that said you didn't believe him he finally fessed up. "You're wearing my shirt."

"Oh, sorry. I realized when I was on the phone I didn't have anything on. Hope you don't mind."

Jacob actually didn't mind at all, in fact, he kind of liked you in it, which was a new feeling. "No, not at all. Though I'll admit I like you without anything on as well."

It was hard to stop your eyes from rolling at his words especially at a time like this, but somehow you managed to. "While I appreciate the compliment, we should probably figure out what we're going to do." It was then that you looked at him, in only his boxers. His washboard abs calling out to your fingertips to just run over them, not to mention the strain of his cock against those briefs. You bit your lip just thinking about the things that you wanted to do to him and have him do to you. "And once that's done, then we can celebrate our divorce."

"I like the way you think." He scooted you closer on the couch so that your legs were draped over his. "I was thinking that while you were on the phone, that I can just have my lawyer handle things. He said he could have everything drawn up in a couple days since we don't have to split up a house or any belongs."

"That's fine. You can email me them and I'll just sign and send them back."

"He did mention one thing, though I'm loathed to bring it up." His hand was traveling up and down your shins making it hard to think, but you were intent upon getting this divorce started.

"Just tell me, after all, we are married, and married people shouldn't have secrets right?" I mean it was a bad joke, you'll admit that, but then if you couldn't laugh about this shamble of a mess you may start to cry.

"He wanted to make sure that you weren't after, well...you know."

Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to figure out his meaning, and then it hit you. "Oh my god! No, I'm not after any money. I would never and it's not like I don't have my own. I mean it's probably not anything close to what you make, but I do bring in quite a bit. Oh my god, I'm rambling. But no, no, I don't want a cent from you."

"I told him I thought that was the case, but he wanted me to be sure."

"Ok as long as you didn't think that."

Jacob was quick to tell you he didn't. "No, not at all. If I'm being honest, I think getting married was my idea, if I remember right."

"I wish I could remember more, though these pictures do bring back a few memories. I can't remember how we got these rings though. What is this cubic zirconia?"

"Umm, nope." His cheeks started to turn a delightful shade of red. "My credit card tells me it's a diamond."

"Oh Jacob," you exclaimed, taking off the ring. "This has to be a fortune. It's at least three carats." Quickly, you put the ring in his hand as if it was going to burn you. This fake marriage had caused enough damage that he didn't need to be on the hook for a ring that you'd never wear again.

"You know I can afford it right?"

"Of course, I know that. You just shouldn't have to pay for my mistake."

"It wasn't just your mistake." It was sweet of him to try and shoulder the blame, but if you wouldn't have had that tiff with Kennedy, then you wouldn't have gotten drunk ass stupid and married him. "We both did this, but there's no point in arguing about it. In a few short months, this marriage will be over."

"True."

"Let me give him a quick call and get things started." You went to move but Jacob stilled you with his arm. The conversation was brief, his hand was inching further up your thighs during the entire call, sending delightful tingles all over your body. As soon as he hung up, that same hand reached your core. "So now that that's settled. What about that celebration? You know while we're still married and all."

You'd already said you weren't making it to brunch with everyone, so there was really no reason, not to indulge in what you wanted. Scooting up a little further onto his lap, you grabbed the back of his neck and drew his lips down to yours. One kiss melted into another and another until neither of you could take it any longer and Jacob took you there on the sofa. After that, it was round 4 in the shower.

You and Jacob exchanged numbers so that you could keep in touch while the divorce papers were being worked on by his lawyer. Since both of you were still in Vegas another night, you agreed to meet up a little later. Jacob claiming that it was safer to be with his 'wife' than out looking for another one.

It was an hour after leaving Jacob before you were knocking on Kennedy’s door, there to apologize for everything you said to her the day before. She opened the door, and without so much as a hello, grabbed your arm and hauled you inside. “You have to tell me everything that happened?” How the hell did she know what had happened with Jacob. She was your best friend and all, but the last time you checked she was not a psychic. “I called Ryan and he told me those guys were from the Canucks, which happen to be his favorite hockey team in the world.” Somehow you really weren’t shocked to find that out. Considering Ryan was from Seattle and an avid sports fan. “When Jade told me, you were hooking up with one of them, I died. I need to know everything.”

Oh, you weren’t sure if she was ready to hear everything. “Can I first apologize for being an absolute asshole to you yesterday?”

“You can, but there’s no need. I know your feelings about marriage and how you think we’re rushing into it. I get that you were just looking out for me and only want me to be happy, and you know I’ll be happy with Ryan. I wasn’t really mad at you, per se. It was more about smoothing things over with Gretchen. You know how she can be.” You did know how Gretchen was, which was why you felt even worse for saying what you did, when you did. “(Y/N), you’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister, and nothing you say is ever going to change that.”

You enveloped her in a massive hug. There were times that you felt as if you and Kennedy were twins separated at birth and it was nice to know she felt that way too. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s already forgiven. Now, tell me everything that happened, or more importantly; can you get any of their autographs so I can take them back to Ryan?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get us seats to any game if he wants to go?”

Kennedy's face was filled with a mixture of shock and joy. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they have a family suite or something for wives to sit in.”

This time you watched as that same shocked look turned into confusion. “I’m not following you?”

“Well…I kind of sort of…” Kennedy might be your best friend, who knew you better than yourself, but you still didn’t know how to tell her this. It was always easiest to just rip the bandaid off, you supposed. “That is…I got married last night.”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Little louder, Kenny I don’t think they heard you at the Bellagio.”

“I’m sorry but you cannot just drop that bomb on me and expect me not to shout at you like you lost your damn mind.” Ok, she had a point. You had in fact lost your mind and your memory. Damn alcohol. “You need to tell me everything right now.”

It took you a half hour to tell Kennedy all the details of what had happened with Jacob. She was stunned, to say the least. In the end, the only thing she wanted to know was if you were now her matron of honor instead of maid. Leave it to Kennedy to make you laugh at a time like this. She agreed to keep your marriage a secret from the other girls and you hoped that she didn’t blurt it out like she did your little sexcapade with Superman, though she insisted that all of you meet up with Jacob and some of his teammates that night.

Like you, Jacob had only told one other person about what happened that night, his friend and teammate Chris; to everyone else, it just seemed as though you two were very interested in one another. At the end of the night, you were fumbling back into his suite, divesting him of every garment he had on, while he did the same to you. The next morning, you said your goodbyes but decided to keep in touch. Jacob promised you there would be tickets with your name on them anytime you wanted them in Vancouver and that he’d definitely see you when he was in LA. It was something you were definitely looking forward to. Despite the whole marriage debacle, or maybe because of it, you had to say that your trip to Las Vegas was one you were definitely going to remember for a lifetime.

Twenty-four hours later, when you were back in your own place, still trying to rehydrate from the past seventy-two hours, is when you received a phone call from Jacob. He called to make sure that you got back to Los Angeles and that everything was fine. It was actually kind of sweet. It was about sixteen hours after that, that you found yourself calling him after his first practice. One conversation rolled into the next and so on until you were talking at least twice a day. He talked about hockey and his life in Sweden as well as Vancouver, while you told him about LA and your job there. Family and friends were a topic that came up often, almost to a point that you felt as if his teammates were your friends as well. Sure, there were the occasional nights where phone sex ended up taking place, though you had to admit it was much better than some of the dates you’d gone on in the past. If one was on the outside looking in, they probably wouldn’t understand why you were actually going through with the divorce. That thought didn’t stop you from signing the documents and sending them back to Jacob though.

As the season started, Jacob still made time to talk to you every day. He even started to wonder if the circumstances had been different and the two of you had met in Vancouver or LA, would you be an actual couple at this point. He had to admit that your conversations were the highlight of his day. You were smart and funny with a wit about you that he enjoyed, and well to say that you were attractive was a complete understatement in his book. If Jacob was being honest with himself, you were his ideal woman.

Which is why when the divorce papers came in, almost a month after he met you, he simply threw them on his desk and vowed to take them to his attorney soon. Unfortunately, he forgot he had an extended road trip coming up, which made him forget about them completely. They only crossed his mind once while he was gone when you’d asked him if he got them. He tried to make a mental note to remember them when he got home, but not only did they slip his mind, but they also got buried in a mountain of mail on his desk.

The following week when he got home was a bit crazy. He missed a night in calling you when a game went into overtime. When he tried to the next day you didn’t answer. Jacob tried not to give it too much thought or take it personally, though his mind told him differently. He knew that you had a big ad campaign coming up and that work had started to consume your life. He just hoped it wasn’t with some hot male stripper or movie star.

When you didn’t answer the phone the following three days, Jacob started to believe that what the two of you had or were starting to have, never really existed. He had resigned himself that he’d probably never see or hear from you again. Oh, how he was wrong.

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