#and they just. fucking. stood there. while all those children died. they could have saved them. what the fuck. what. the fuck.

[zombiewhor3]

WE HAVE SHIT TO DO

rick grimes x fem reader

WARNINGS: smut, penetrative sex, male/fem orgasms, weapon usage, mentions/usage of liquor, Negan, mentions of character deaths, mentions of upset/un-comfy reader, mentions of murder, season 7 era tbh,

a/n: just watched the episode of where Carl died and where Rick read his letter and i am a sobbing mess, i cried so hard throughout the entire episode an honestly in the comics it says he has a happy ending so lets pretend that Carl never died and had a happy ending and that he just ran away because it's breaking my heart!

: sorry for the long wait, i've been trying to catch up stuff on my wattpad and i have a few drafts that i have saved so i'll be trying to post those throughout the week!

-

the runs had been hard, and food rations had started to become smaller and smaller by the day, and with children and people of Alexandria they needed to find something.

But it was hard with Negan breathing down their backs, constantly making random appearances to claim 'his deliveries' that they were supposed to somehow fulfill for him and the Saviours.

she had one of her hands intertwined with his while his cock was hitting her g-spot making her mouth form a sudden 'O' shape while their lips connected in a frustrating lust for one another.

she let out a soft cry into his mouth feeling as she was so close from her big O that she was bucking her hips up for one of his thumbs to rub circles on her clit to send her over the edge for him.

without a hesitation he used his thumb to spin on her clit hearing as she let out a loud set of delicate moans from her mouth, and it made him pull his lips away from hers just so he could hear how beautiful she sounded aloud while he fucked her.

"s-so close!" she whimpered feeling as her walls clenched to try and bring his throbbing cock even deeper into her tight soaked walls, one of their hands were holding onto the others so they could keep their bond of love even closer during the moment.

"shh shh, come on let it go"

he cooed to her feeling as she let out a loud whimper while her juices spurt out onto his cock that was irresponsibly not covered by a condom, however it felt to good for him to stop and by the time he knew it he was shooting his load inside her

"fuck" he practically gasped feeling the warmth of their juices creating a slight warmth over his cock, she let out a whine as he hadn't pulled out of her yet because he wanted to take in the moment

a loud knock at the door seemed to disturb her as she jumped sending a slight accidental pleasure to his cock that was still buried full length in her cunt.

"you done fucking in there Rick? because we have shit to do!" Negan called out while tapping his bat against the door so harshly Rick thought that he was going to somehow break through it.

he pulled out of her watching as she covered over her mouth to hide a loud gasp that she knew was surely to spill from her mouth, "one minute Negan please" Rick asked only hearing the knocking start to get louder and louder surely he was trying to scare him.

Rick had wiped himself and slipped on his lower half of clothes before Negan flew open the door smiling once he saw y/n covering herself with the tangled bed sheets around her.

Rick ran a hand through his hair while he pulled out a fresh white t-shirt from his dresser slipping it on while he holstered his knife and looked at the man standing in front of him.

"Rosita come here for me please"

Negan called out watching as the women slipped down the long and quite narrow hall leading to the bedroom, she stood behind him as she kept her gaze down on the floor.

"you and Rick are going to go on a scavenge trip and i don't care how long you're out there for, either you find something cool or useful for me or option one you don't come back at all and in that case i'll bash someones head in or option two i smash all of these sorry fucks heads in" Negan smiled rubbing his hand over Lucille.

"now get the hell out" he ordered watching as Rick skimmed past him as he followed Rosita back down the long hall and once Negan heard the front door shut with a slam a smile appeared on his face.

this time it was wider and cockier almost like he thought the girl trying to cover her nude body from him was a joke, his smile was implicating that he thought this was all so damn funny.

"can i please get some privacy Negan?" she asked calmly as her nails started to practically burn holes into the fabric from the strength of her grip that she had on it.

Negan rested the bat against the inner wall of the bedroom next to the snow white painted door frame, he used a hand to rub over the stubble on his face, he sighed and flipped his back around.

his hands rested clasped in front of him as he fiddled his thumbs and whistled impatiently, she slipped into the bathroom to wipe her self clean before she slipped back into the bedroom to put on a fresh set of clothes.

"you can stop whistling now" she bit at him while she adjusted the collar of her flannel that covered the blank tank underneath, she flipped over the cuffs on the sleeves and folded her arms.

"wow god you two really go at it" Negan remarked at her watching as her posture awkwardly changed in front of him, because her shoulders seemed to scrunch up at the uncomfortable remark.

"is that stuff never seems to go right around here? is you two's fucking getting in the way of my deliveries that you and your people should be making?" a hand rested on her lower neck as he made his way up to her chin watching and feeling as she swallowed harshly.

"you seem un-comfy baby" he spoke rubbing the side of her cheek, "i think you should leave" she spoke calmly but also with a slight fire in her voice wishing that he would just see himself out.

Judith let out a loud cry just a few doors down making Negan smile once more as he picked up Lucille and made his way along the hall making sure to scrape the floors up with him.

"don't please" y/n spoke pushing past him so that she could stand in the door frame the loud sound of her crying ringing through her ears like loud feedback echoing off of a microphone.

"oh please i'm not gonna hurt her what am i a monster?" he bit back bitterly skimming past her, he placed his bat down next to the recliner in her room while he lifted her up from her crib.

he sat back in the recliner while rocking her gently with his knee while he stroked the back of her head, y/n didn't understand how a man so cruel and so monsterous could have a heart like this.

how he could act so sweet after threatening to bash everyone's brains in if Rick hadn't followed his orders as directed.

y/n was surely biting her fingernails raw looking at the two, she seemed to have a liking to him, but it wasn't like she knew how much of a monster he was, after all she was only past a year old she truly didn't know anything about the real world yet.

it was making her sick seeing him hold her, seeing as he was able to get her to stop crying, she looked down the hall to see Carl standing there cocking his head while he looked at the quite visible nervousness y/n was emitting into the air around them.

she shook her head at Carl to go back with Enid who had her head peaking out into the kitchen to watch what Carl was doing from the hall even though she couldn't get a good enough view.

y/n gestured for him to return back to the room he had just appeared from but instead he walked his way down the hall his hand slipping out the silver knife from his holster.

y/n tried to put her hand out to push into his chest but once she saw the fire in his eyes she let him go, she let him slip into the bedroom to see the man that killed her friends holding his little sister.

it was causing an ache in him, it was making him so god damn furious that he was clenching the blade by his side,

"would you look at that it's the serial killer in the making isn't this a nice surprise for me" Negan teased looking down at the knife clenched with a fist down by the boys side.

y/n grabbed his wrist to take the knife from him and shockingly he let her, he let it slip out from his hand without even an ounce of a fight,

she slipped it back into his holster while turning his body away and sending him back down the hallway to where Enid was now waiting for her boyfriend with an explanation.

"he's a feisty one for sure, quite bold if you ask me"

Negan spoke to y/n while sitting up from the chair and resting the now sleepy Judith back in her crib, she pulled a blanket over her and handed the stuffed rabbit that rested next to her in her crib before he grabbed his bat and showed himself out of her room.

y/n shut the door behind her once she checked the baby camera to make sure that it was still on and hadn't run out of battery power again, she followed Negan into the living room thankful that the two kids had left the house to venture somewhere else.

"you have any bourbon or whiskey? i could really use a drink"

Negan asked plopping down on the couch and resting his feet a top of the coffee table un-apologetically while his eyes flicked over to look at the obviously unamused y/n.

"not much i think in the last of our rations we have maybe half a bottle i'm not sure last time i checked your men took it all"

y/n spoke sharply while opening the cupboards until she found the bottle of whiskey, she grabbed a clean empty glass and poured him some before she set the glass and the bottle on the table.

he moved his feet out of her way before he took his first embrace of the liquor in his glass, "perfect" he sighed happily as he downed his first glass of the brown liquid, "what is this exactly?" Negan asked watching as she had taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch away from him before she answered his question.

"Deanna's old husband had a old liquor cabinet so i'm guessing something vintage or some shit we found it in Spencer's room but i suppose whiskey is simply whiskey"

y/n reflected back at him while crossing her legs, she stared out the window where the curtains had been pulled back to let in just the right amount of sunshine necessary to light up the room so it wouldn't be as gloomy and dark for them.

"not when it's cheap but times are tough so anything will do these days but i have to admit this don't taste cheap sweet heart"

Negan admitted as he poured himself another round, after he downed it he licked his lips clean and looked at her.

"you've had your drink can you leave me be now" y/n spoke bitterly towards him as she got up from the couch,

"not until your boy toy and that chick gets back with my shit, is that what you call him boy toy or fuck toy?" he blabbed back before giving up on the glass and instead just pressing the glass bottle of liquor against his lips taking a swig of the burning liquid down his throat feeling the aftermath of the sting start to kick in from the liquor.

"i call him Rick that's all" she answered his question sounding uninterested in the games he was trying to play with her

she was tired of looking at his face and that smug ass smile laced on it, tired of looking at the leather jacket he wore that once had her friends blood splattered on it and she was sure as hell tired of looking at the damn bat that now sat between his legs.

because it was the same bat he used to bash in her friends heads the same bat that she had taunted her and the rest of her group with, the same bat that had smeared blood on her face because she refused to look at it that night when he ordered her.

she gulped looking down at it, Negan chuckled as he could catch her glance at the piece of wood, "is Lucille bothering you because i can promise you she isn't quite thirsty right now but if they come back with nothing she's gonna be damn thirsty for more of your friends"

"please just leave me alone Negan, please that's all i ask of you, you can have that entire bottle of whiskey if it'll get you to stop running your mouth to me hell i'll find you all the damn bottles that you want if it'll keep you away from me"

she spoke trying to hide the fire she could feel her body emitting, she could feel the anger every time she looked at him and it was starting to grow so much she wasn't sure she would be able to hold back from simply killing him but she knew that would be a foolish idea.

that killing him would reek a havoc on the people of Alexandria.

she slipped into her and Rick's bedroom sinking into the bed as she could hear the sound of his men outside, and well she could see partially some of them through the shadow of their figures through the light cream colored curtains covering the window.

she picked up the comic book that rested on the night stand next to the bed, her and Carl had a thing for comic books often swapping whenever they finished one, she ran her fingers over the cover before she set it back down onto the wooden night stand with a sigh.

she prayed that Rick would be back soon, and she prayed that if he did come back he'd bring something Negan wanted or else she knew that surely there was gonna be a blood bath in Alexandria.

-

it had been a week since Rick came home, and that meant she had spent a week living with a cruel man, it was hard keeping Carl out of the house away from his sister but she knew it would prevent him from pulling anything stupid when his father was away.

they had come back with two large bottles of rum, a pallet that had been slightly filled with cans of sweet corn and an old jack knife that Negan had let Rick keep himself as a so labeled "trophy" for being such a good scavenger for him.

Once Negan was satisfied with the resources Rick had brought to him he gathered his men and left, but not without making sure to take a look at the women who was soaking into her bed from the ability of not being able to look him in the face anymore.

Rick could tell that she had lost her mind spending the past seven days with him, that she was truly going crazy with the taunting and the comments and well the fact she felt so guilty for just simply trying to protect Carl from doing something stupid.

Rick pulled her into him so he could rub her hands and plant kisses onto the back of her neck and her shoulder blades feeling her shudder and slightly tremble at the needed contact.

"is he gone? i can't stand to look at him anymore"

she admitted feeling as he intertwined one of his hands with hers rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb,

"he's gone for now at least i'll make sure to take you out for scavenging next week to see if we can bring anything back for us"

Rick peppered kisses on her back trying to settle her as he knew that the true real life fact was that Negan could come back any day or any time he pleased and he could tell that it was starting to severely upset her, he knew that she hated him for what he did and in all truth Rick couldn't stop thinking about killing the man himself.

He knew that no matter what he did or no matter if he killed or defeated Negan nothing would ever be the same he had already tried that and it cost him two of his men, two of his innocent men.

"i want to kill him Rick i have to kill him i need to" she spoke with a sudden change of tone starting to lace and bite back at her.

she squeezed his hand, "but i can't put anyone else in danger, because i can't lose anyone else and i already know he has Carl on his list and i won't do that to you"

he shushed her softly again to calm her down from the amped-up ramble that she had been starting to spew out again

"and we won't lose him if we follow the plan we have, just a few more days and we can follow out the plan and see how it goes for us but i just know we have to try and fight our way out of this"

Rick was almost all jittered up from the thought of taking Negan down, the thought of taking him down so no one else they loved or cared about could ever be hurt again from him.

"then we'll find a way to kill him together without getting us killed and we'll find a way to take down his men with him"

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

If the Democrats lose its because they failed to garner the support of their base, rather than the base's moral failing to turn out to a vote they're completely alienated from. The Democratic Party has moved away from universal healthcare (they literally removed it from their platform) and in particular the Biden administration has moved right on immigration to try (and fail) to siphon Trump voters. You can talk about how important the election is, but at this point there's no victory for the American people no matter who is elected. The Democrats are just secular moderate Republicans at this rate.

Better secular moderate Republicans than Nazis. It's been heading this way a long time, since LBJ. He wasn't wrong when he said he just lost the South for at least a generation by signing the Voting Rights Act.

No party can win with their base alone. The math isn't there for either side. The more you turn out your base the less you need to bend to the middle, but mathematically you will still have to bend -- the GOP does too, why do you think we haven't seen blanket abortion bans since Roe was overturned despite decades of rhetoric? Bc it cost them the midterms at the idea. Obamacare stood despite every Republican running against it, bc they didn't all vote to repeal it bc of the voter backlash at the idea.

Sometimes there is no good option, only less bad. The core of the trolley problem is something people miss -- will you let 5 people die so you can be a bystander and feel good about your moral superiority, or will you save them, and live with knowing that you had to kill one to do it? You can't change the conditions without losing the heart of it, which is the sane as whether you vote -- do you want to be smug while the world burns or do you want to try your best even if you know it's not good enough bc it's better than nothing? One is easy on your conscience "not my fault, I didn't do it" but it's a lie bc you were complicit. The other requires some accountability and responsibility and weight on your shoulders but it also SAVES LIVES.

We aren't losing anything with Biden. We're not gaining a lot either but we don't lose ground. With Trump we could lose everything.

Also... y'all need to learn some patience. Do you know how long it took for women to get the vote? How long it took for women to get work place rights? How long it took to make spousal rape a crime?

Do you know how long it took to abolition slavery? Then to get desegregation? Then voting rights (in as much as we have them)?

Rome was not build in a day, yet you're all out here yelling bc your issue isn't solved in a few years! Do you realize HIV was running rampant for almost a decade and the President wouldn't even say the word bc who gave a shit if queers died? Or that DOMA was around for 20 years? And that was damn fast progress.

The fact universal Healthcare isn't on the platform BECAUSE THERE ISNT A FUCKING PLATFORM YET -- those get vote on at the convention. And also bc it does not have the votes to pass and it won't after Inauguartion day either.

You need to focus on eliminating the technical filibuster so straight votes can be called instead of put off forever, which will mean it only takes 50 votes -- that's the path the universal Healthcare. But no you don't want to think it through, the long hard fight of wins by inches over years and decades. You want to jump the line and get your way now, and are throwing goddamn tantrums like children when you're told that's not how it works, it never has been, not anywhere on the fucking planet in any civilization.

So go pout if you want to, but if you abdicate responsibility for making the choice of lesser evil then you also lose the right to bitch, bc literally no one in power gives a fuck about those who don't show up.

[iridium-daydream]

Dude you are a FUCKING asshole. Ask the parents of those dead children if those memes are “harmless”

Actually, I genuinely think that if you showed those parents that meme, that some would be able to see the humor in it. Because the subject of the meme isn't the children, it's the cops.

Again, as I've said before a couple times now, this is a touchy thing to make a meme about. Even if the children aren't the subject, they are still part of the meme, and not everyone is going to be comfortable with that. And that is o k a y. Not everyone has to like everything, and just because you dislike something doesn't make it morally bad. It could be, but it's not a given. I'm actually surprised how many of you think it's joking about the children?? Because to me, that's pretty obviously not what it's doing.

The meme is based off of the original art, which depicts a grim soldier kneeling, arms outstretched, in front of a sleeping child's bed. While the child sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware of what's going on, the audience can see that behind the soldier he is being struck with a myriad of weapons, which will likely lead to fatal injuries. Thus the original image is a genuine depiction of Heroic Sacrifice, of those in authority protecting the innocent, who are unaware of the danger they are being shielded from.

The image was then memed to death, with people usually just pasting text in front of the soldier, child, and weaponry, to denote something being protected from something else. These were (generally) funny because the things being referenced were never as serious as the original context of the image. A dog protecting his owner from the mailman is not the life and death sacrifice the art was trying to convey, so it's ironic.

This meme, which has the same image but with the weaponry unlabeled, the soldier labeled "kindergarteners" and the child labeled "Texas cops", goes beyond that. Because now the situation is indeed a life and death situation, just like the original artwork, so the humor is not in the direct irony of using such an image for a meme. So what is the point of it? The point is then in the flipping of positions, that now the stoic soldier is labeled "kindergartners" and the sleeping child is labeled "Texas cops", but that flip is not enough to generate humor. After all, if this were a fictional concept, something being pitched in a screenplay, no one would find it funny. People would just find it sad. Not only sad, but unrealistic. "Come on, like any cop-no, like any adult in their right mind would stand there and do nothing while a child needed help?!"

But it did happen. "Truth is stranger than fiction." People have been watching awful shit play out in front of their eyes and been unable to do anything but laugh and shake their heads since forever. We've all seen the footage: 20-30 cops, people whose jobs it is (supposedly) to risk their lives to protect the innocent, had a chance to save schoolchildren, literally the most innocent of all. And they fucking stood there and waited and did fuck all for nearly an hour, and now all those children (and teachers, teachers also died there) are dead, those families are shattered, that community will never be the same again. And what consequences have any of them faced for it? Practically nothing.

And so I bring you back to the meme. The flip in roles is not enough to make the statement, it's the fact that it was allowed to happen. That it wasn't just "one bad cop", but all of them, that they were ordered to stand by and wait because god forbid one of them get hurt, right? That the city tried to cover it up afterward by hiding footage, by doing its damndest to try and shield its officers from any sort of consequences in the aftermath. The fact the that cops, as state authorities could have done anything they wanted in this situation with nigh total immunity, and what they chose to do what become like the sleeping child in the meme, safe and sound, no longer innocently unaware of danger, but selfishly hidden away from it. And the children are thrust into the position of the soldier, previously a position of Heroic Sacrifice, where someone in a position of strength chooses to take on risk to protect those that are most vulnerable, now it is a position of plain Sacrifice, where someone else has chosen to surrender it to destruction because it is seen as expendable. And because this meme has kept the grim stakes of the original art piece, but so thoroughly perverted the roles these groups were meant to play, and this is factually how it happened, it draws your mind to "How the fuck did this even happen???"

And it's only once your mind gets there, past the tragedy of the murdered kids, and past the rage at the cops, that you might let a bit more air out of your nose than usual because what the fuck else are you meant to do? How are you meant to exist in the world as it is today, with all its senseless tragedies: death, violence, climate change, fascism, political turmoil, poverty, etc. if you can't laugh at how absurd it all is? How else are humans meant to cope in a system that's designed to crush everyone except those at the very top?

So bringing it back to your original ask, I think if the parents saw this, while some would find it distasteful, just as you do, I think some would also see the humor in it, laughing at a system that thought those cops were the ones that needed protecting, and that their kids were capable of acting like soldiers and shielding them.

Tldr: it's gallows humor, a thing that has been around since before you were born, and will be here long after you die. Life sucks, and sometimes you just laugh at it?? If it's not your thing, that's fine! But jfc, don't do internet harassment over it. literally, the bare fucking minimum. the bar is on the floor, please do not limbo

[mymarifae]

when will bootlicking americans learn that the police and military are literally not here to help us... they're not your heroes. they don't deserve your praise and your respect. the absolute lack of care during the uvalde shooting. i hope all those cowards burn in hell.

[crystalcow]

𝑀𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑝𝑡 2//𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Masterlist//child reader//pt one

Wilburs x reader !blurb !p !child reader

Pronouns used: they/them

Warnings: swearing, blood, death, angst

━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━

Wilburs pov

I looked up in shock, tears welling in my eyes and blood seeped through onto my shirt, yet it wasn’t even my own. I slowly felt myself, falling and falling until I was on my knees, holding my little star close.

The weight of their dead, cold lifeless body in my arms, I watched as my “son” stood there. “Little Champion, how could you?” I laughed staring out at him as everyone around stared in shock, my eyes bloodshot with darkness.

He just stood there, paralyzed in place while his sibling slowly faded away in my arms. Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo! They watched, they saw it all happen.

His nibling, their friend, my child! They watched as Y/n died in my fucking arms, shot by their very own brother.

“I know how it is in that place, the constant rail road tracks blaring in my ears. I hoped, I prayed that one day someone would just show up! That someone would be there to experience the same, selfish pain I did. But never, never did I want it to be them!”

I shouted, I called out at the very top of my lungs, forcing my chest to hold up instead of shriveling apart.

How could he do this to me? How could be do this to them, I knew he never liked them when they were younger but I watched.. I watched as over the years they grew closer and closer, Y/n sneaking into Fundys room in the middle of the night whenever he had nightmares.

I may have been a terrible father but I raised my children for love.

Not for treacherous, constant underlying pain.

Dream did me that favor once, maybe he’ll be up to do it again. I just hope the book isn’t completely fucked yet.

Shit

They were just in my arms, the blood of my one love drenching my shirt. Those who surrounded me were all those I loved, those whom had experience pain constantly.

Im sorry to all those I have hurt, my brother one of them. I wanted them to live, me by their side. Why did I let this happen, why can’t things go right for once.

I was gifted such a wondrous gift, the ability to live and continue my overlying legacy. The second I returned, the very first step I’ve taken in this world I fucked it up again.

Now everything rushing through my head, I can’t get these faint voices to stop. Screams of terror and cries of sadness, begging for someone to save them.

The train tracks never stop

━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━

One of the shittiest things I’ve written recently and I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more frequent!

Taglist: @creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolfuckingblob @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @uwucorpse @chaoticotaku @k-l-a-w-s @denkisclown @arson-404 @koicat

[tainted-wine]

Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

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

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

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

Words: 20k+

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

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

——–x——–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

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

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

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

 x---x---x---x---x 

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

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

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

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

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

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sorry.’

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

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

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

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

 x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

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

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

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

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

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

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

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

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

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“St…aay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

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

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

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

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill it.

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

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

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

Ah, so they can both heal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

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

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

A sad display, indeed.

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

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

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

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

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

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

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

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

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

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

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

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

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

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

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

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

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

‘Don’t do that.’

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

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

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

‘You’re sick.’

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

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

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

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

You snap out of it before that can happen.

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

And you fucking enjoyed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue flames are to be feared.

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

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

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

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

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

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor hates it here.

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

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

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

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

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

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

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

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

“Don’t...go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember, shame is useless here.

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hawks.”

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

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

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

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

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

“No more questions.”

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kill her, Raptor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anger.

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

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

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

How dare they.

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

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

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

Raptor wants to get out of here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

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

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

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

“Let’s help each other forget.”

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

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

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

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

And it makes your walls clench.

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

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

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

He was laughing.

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

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

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

“Want more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn him.

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

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

Good.

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

“Inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

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

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

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

Just use me.

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

Just use me however the fuck you want.

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

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

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

Exhaustion…

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

Warmth...full...sleep.

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

“Get up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

But any sort of shame?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to leave.”

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

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

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

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

Well then…

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

Breath in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open. 

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

Targets first spotted at 12:50

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

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

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

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

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

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

Subject: Raptor

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

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

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

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

[shiftingparadise]

Hey there!! Just so you know, I’m in love with the things you write!

That said, I would like to make a request… Can you do something based on the song “give you what you like” by Avril Lavigne?

I thought about doing it myself, a Levi x reader based on this song but I really liked the things you write and is so much fun to read from somebody else.

Oh and it doesn’t need to be a Levi x reader… You can do with whoever you like, if you don’t feel like doing a Levi one.

Thank you sooooo much ❤️

Hi! I really loved your request. I hope you like what I've done with it 🥺. I'm excited about the stuff you write though! If you have a blog, please send me the link. I would love to read the things you write :3. Thank you for the kind words 🥺🤍.

Have a nice day everyone 🤍✨

Word Count: 4114

The atmosphere surrounding the Headquarters was as grim as ever. Everyone was sitting inside their rooms. You could hear some of the other cadets crying when you walked past their rooms, others were screaming in anger. You didn’t know what to do, it felt as if you were on autopilot, your legs were moving on their own. You hesitated before opening the door to your room, your hands were still covered in blood. You slowly opened the door, quickly closing it behind you. 

‘Fuck’, you closed your eyes while resting your head against the door, you could feel your heart racing again, ‘This can’t be right, this-‘, you could feel a lump forming in your throat at the images of innocent children being crushed underneath the stones, calling out for help. ‘E-eren didn’t need to murder those innocent people… No’, you widened your eyes before placing both of your hands in front of your face, ‘What have I done, I’ve-‘, you fell onto the ground, folding yourself double, ‘I’ve killed so many people today, we all did’, you sobbed into your legs, wrapping your arms around your stomach. 

You could feel your stomach turning, your limbs felt weak. Without any warning, you threw up onto the ground, tears kept streaming down your cheek. 

‘I-I’m a monster; we all are. They were right to call us demons’, you were on your hands and knees, desperately trying to catch your breath. ‘Ai, we are’, you could hear the Captain’s voice coming from your door. You quickly sat up straight, looking away from him. You didn’t want someone to see you like this, especially not Levi. ‘My door was closed’, ‘So?’, Levi’s voice sounded uninterested in your response. ‘That means I want to be left alone’, you whispered, voice shaking. ‘So you can choke in your own vomit?’, you could hear the door closing behind you, ‘You did what was asked of you, what you needed to do-‘, ‘That doesn’t make it right’, you looked up at him with anger in your eyes, ‘Innocent people were killed, children’, you could taste your tears on your lips. ‘Don’t you think I know that?’, Levi replied quietly, ‘Don’t you think I feel bad? That their screams don’t haunt me?’, you could see he was getting angry. ‘I-I never said that’, you quickly looked away again, ‘No, but that’s what you believe, right? That I’m some kind of heartless monster?’, ‘N-no I never-‘, ‘Tch, I know what people think of me, what you think’, he weakly replied. ‘We all are monsters Levi’, you looked at him again, you could feel your eyes burning from crying, ‘Nothing can save us’, you slowly stood up from the ground, walking towards your sink. ‘Everything went to shit ever since Erwin died’, you placed both of your hands at the edge, looking at your bloodshot eyes in the mirror. 

You turned around to look at the Captain, hoping he would go away, but he was just standing against your wall, looking out of your window. 

‘Please leave’, you whispered while looking at your hands, ‘I want to be alone’. ‘Tch’, Levi clenched his jaw, ‘You want to be left alone, huh? Want to wallow in self-pity some more? Cry your eyes out like the rest of the Corps?’, he moved away from the wall. ‘It won’t change anything cadet, you can cry all you want, wash your hands as many times as you want… The blood on your hands will never disappear’. 

You closed your eyes again, trying to keep yourself from punching him. 

‘Go on then, cry some more, see if it makes you feel better’, Levi grabbed your wrist, ‘You’ll never be the same. Get over it, learn to live with it’, ‘Why? Do you want me to build a wall around me like you did? Act cold and distant? Pretend I don’t have feelings? Pretend to live my life like I don’t care about anything or anyone, only to wander around the corridors at night, unable to sleep? Do you want me to become like you? To live my life as one big lie?’, you spitted at him, pulling your wrist away from his grip, ‘Please, leave me alone’, you whispered with tears in your eyes, already regretting the words that flowed from your lips. 

Levi didn’t respond, instead, he kept his cold gaze focused on yours. 

‘Why are you still here? I just want to be on my o-‘, ‘Because I don’t want you to go through this alone’, Levi turned around, grabbing a towel from your closet, ‘Clean up the floor, I’ll be back in a minute’, ‘N-no I don’t want you to!’, you raised your voice at him, ‘I don’t want you to come back, I need you to go away’. 

You could see him looking over his shoulder at the ground, his eyes seemed sad. You didn’t want to push him away. In any other circumstances, you would’ve been more than happy that he would want to spend time together with you, that he cared about the way you felt. Over the years the two of you became friends, and you had started to develop feelings for Levi. You knew you were hurting him, but you couldn’t control yourself. You were angry, angry at yourself, at Levi, at Eren, … You were angry with the world. You never wanted to become like this, to kill innocent people. 

‘Get your emotions under control, we’ll be going on another mission soon’, Levi replied coldly before closing the door behind him.

--- 

An hour passed, and you were still standing at the same spot.

‘H-huh?’, you shook yourself out of your thoughts when you heard someone knocking at the door. ‘L-levi, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-‘, you opened the door only to find Jean standing in front of it. ‘Oh’, you looked down in disappointment, ‘I’m sorry, I thought you were Captain Levi’. ‘Are you alright?’, Jean’s voice sounded soothing, ‘I heard you screaming at him a few hours ago, and I wanted to-‘, Jean took a deep breath before continuing, ‘I understand how you feel Y/N. I just sat in the same position for hours on my bed.. I can’t-‘, you could hear his voice shaking, eyes tearing up, ‘I can’t take it.. The screams, the blood, the inno-‘. 

You didn’t let him finish, you didn’t want to hear it, you didn’t want to be reminded of what happened. You wrapped your arms around him. You knew it wouldn’t ease his pain, but you couldn’t do anything else. 

‘It’s okay’, you whispered, ‘We’ll be okay’. You could feel Jean placing his arm around you, ‘We won't Y/N. We’ve lost too many people, and we’ve killed too many to ever be okay’. You dug your head deeper into his chest, trying to hold back your tears. You knew he was right. No one was the same anymore. Everyone had lost their smile, even Hange never smiled anymore. 

‘Anyway’, Jean carefully pulled away, ‘Hange thought it would be a good idea to get some wine and call everyone to the cafeteria. She thought it would lighten the mood’, Jean scratched the back of his head, ‘I’ll see you there’. ‘B-but I don’t want to g-‘, ‘No one wants to Y/N, but I don’t think it’s a bad idea. Everyone could use some distraction’, Jean didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he turned around and walked back towards his room. 

­You took a quick shower after cleaning up your vomit from the floor, putting on a clean uniform after. You really didn’t feel like socializing, to put on a fake smile, but you didn’t want to disappoint Hange. She probably went through a lot of trouble to get some wine in such a short period of time and maybe, just maybe, she was right. Alcohol’s never a bad idea if you want to forget your troubles. 

--- 

A few hours passed and everyone was drunk already. You could see everyone laughing, stumbling over their words - or their feet. Connie already fell a couple of times when he tried to grab Sasha’s wine. 

‘Oi oi oi, Sasha, you’ve had enough. Give me some’, you could see Connie trying to take away Sasha’s wine again. You laughed at the sight of them before scanning the room for Levi. He never showed up. You wondered where he was. ‘Oi Hange’, you walked towards her with a smile, ‘Where’s Levi?’. Hange shook her shoulders, ‘Probably locked up in his office’. ‘Hm, that won’t do’, you smiled before turning around. ‘O-oh’, you widened your eyes when you noticed you bumped into someone, causing you to spill your wine on the ground, ‘I’m so sorry’, you quickly said while picking up your cup from the ground. ‘Tch’, ‘Levi?’, you immediately got back up again. You couldn’t hide your smile; you were so happy to see him. ‘Levi!’, you hugged him, ‘I’m so sorry for the way I act-‘, ‘You’re drunk, aren’t you?’, Levi pushed you away from him. ‘Hm’, you smiled guiltily, ‘You’ve missed all the fun! But don’t worry’, you turned around to fill a cup with some wine, ‘Here’. ‘I don’t want wine’, he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were annoying him. ‘Oh, don’t be like that’, you frowned, ‘Have some fun Levi, you’re always so uptight’. ‘Tch brat’, Levi snapped the cup from your hand, ‘I’m not uptight’. ‘You are Captain’, Levi turned around to see Armin standing against the wall behind you. ‘Armin?’, Levi raised an eyebrow at the sight of him, ‘Not you too’, Levi sighed while rubbing his forehead. ‘O-oi Mikasa, you know Levi’s kind of your uncle right?’, Armin laughed drunkenly. ‘What? No?’, Levi shook his head, ‘We share the same name, and we’re probably related, but I’m not her uncle brat, that’s not how it wo-‘, ‘I’m sorry’, Armin interrupted the Captain, ‘I think I need to throw up’, Armin placed his hand in front of his mouth before running outside.

Levi shook his head, ‘Brats’. ‘Come on’, you grabbed Levi’s arm, ‘Let’s have some fun Captain’, you smirked at him. 

--- 

It must’ve been in the middle of the night, but everyone was still drinking, laughing at how drunk they were. You were sitting next to Jean. Levi went to talk to Hange an hour or so ago and after that, he was just standing next to her while drinking some wine. You couldn’t help but feel bad, you couldn’t smile anymore. What were you thinking? You didn’t deserve to smile, to be happy. You didn’t deserve any of this. 

‘Oi Y/N, are you good?’, ‘H-huh?’, you looked up at Jean, ‘Oh, yeah yeah, I’m fine. Just had too much to drink’, you forced a smile on your face. Jean nodded before turning back around to Connie. 

You looked around the room, only to catch Levi staring at you. He was sipping from his cup, but his eyes were fixed on yours. He didn't look away when he saw that you were watching him too. You turned your gaze away from him, you didn’t want to feel like this when he looked at you, you didn’t want to think about him like that.

‘Oi Jean’, you tapped his back, ‘What are you talking about with Connie?’. 

You tried to listen to the conversation, to respond whenever they expected you, but you could feel Levi’s gaze on you. Every time you looked at him, you could see him staring back at you. You knew what he wanted; you could see it so clearly by the way he was looking at you. Levi must be drunk too because he would never look at you like that if he was sober. 

‘Fuck it’, you whispered to yourself, before you drank the rest of the wine that was in your cup. You got up and walked out of the cafeteria, knowing he would follow behind you. 

‘Where are you going?’, you could hear his voice coming from behind, ‘To your room’, you said softly, heart beating out of your chest, ‘Good girl’. ‘H-huh?’, you turned around in surprise, never expecting him to say something like that. ‘What?’, he smirked at you, ‘I was waiting all night for you to take the hint’, he pulled you towards him, ‘I almost dragged you out of there’. ‘How long?’, you looked down at the floor, ‘How long what?’, he tilted his head; ‘How long have you wanted to do this’, you looked into his eyes, nervous about his answer. ‘Don’t’, Levi placed a strand of hair behind your ear, ‘It doesn’t matter anyway’. ‘It matters to me, ‘I want to know’, you whispered, ‘For quite some time’, he responded. 

You chuckled. ‘For quite some time’, that could mean anything. You decided not to get further into it, you didn’t want to ruin the mood. He was right, what did it even matter? You wanted him and he wanted you. 

You could feel his hand on your chest, slowly moving towards your neck, ‘What are you waiting for?’, his lips almost touched yours, ‘Start walking’. You smirked, ‘Sorry Captain, think I need you to show me the way’. ‘Tch brat’, Levi placed a soft kiss on your lips. ‘Fuck’, he groaned, ‘I want, no, I need more Y/N’, he pushed you against the wall, his hand was still resting on your neck. ‘Please’, you looked at him, already melting under his touch. ‘Hm’, he smiled, ‘I like it when you beg for my touch’, he whispered before kissing you passionately. ‘Let’s go to your room before someone sees us’, you whispered in between kisses. 

Levi pulled away from you, trying to slow down his breathing. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest when he kissed you, he must’ve felt yours too. Levi placed his hand behind your back, guiding you towards his room. The two of you were walking slowly, but you knew you both wanted to run as fast as you could to his room. 

‘Finally’, Levi opened his door, quickly pulling you inside before pushing you up against the wall, pulling your shirt over your head, ‘You sure you want this?’, he asked while looking at your lips, carefully stroking his thumb across your underlip. ‘More than sure’, you whispered while pushing your body against his. ‘Good’, he smirked before kissing you again. 

You could feel his hands moving across your body, caressing every part of it.

‘W-what’s wrong?’, you asked confused when you could feel him stopping. ‘I’m sorry’, he whispered while slowly stroking across your arm, ‘For what?’, you moved your hands away from his face, letting them rest on his shoulders. ‘Your scars-‘, ‘Oh’, you lowered your eyes, quickly covering your stomach with your arms, ‘I’ll put my shirt back on, so you won’t have to look at them’, you looked at the ground. You were so used to them that you never stopped to think about what others would think when seeing them. ‘No that’s not what I meant, I just… I feel bad that you had to go through-‘, ‘Please stop’, you interrupted him, ‘Please… I just want to feel normal for once’, you looked at him, hoping he would let it go. 

Levi didn’t respond, you could see he felt bad too. You slowly kissed him, waiting until the kisses got more passionate again before slowly taking off his shirt. 

You widened your eyes when you looked at his body. ‘What? I’ve got scars too, so what?’, he looked towards the ground, ‘No that’s not.. I’m sorry’, you could feel your cheeks getting red, ‘I just never expected you to look, you know, this good’. ‘Tch’, he smirked at you before kissing you again. 

You could feel Levi picking you up, you wrapped your legs around him in response. He laid you down on his bed, holding your hands above your head. 

‘How long?’, you asked him again, ‘Since the first time I saw you Y/N’, he started placing kisses on your neck. Small moans started escaping from your mouth, you couldn’t wait anymore, ‘Please Levi’. ‘Say you’re mine’, Levi moved from your neck to your collarbone. ‘Fuck’, you sighed, ‘Please’, you pushed your body against his again. ‘Say it Y/N’, his voice sounded stern suddenly, ‘I’m yours Levi’, you whispered, trying to move your hands away from his grip. You wanted to touch him, to feel him, but he tightened his grip around your wrists. ‘It’s funny isn’t it?’, he moved back to your lips, ‘You’re lonely, broken, completely covered in bruises and scars…’, he chuckled, ‘Still, you’re as perfect as you could ever be. Every scar on your body, every bruise, every imperfection… It only makes you even more perfect’, he hovered his lips above yours, ‘Makes me even crazier about you because I’m broken too’, he pressed his lips against yours again, ‘We’re perfect for each other’.  

You broke away from his grip, immediately placing your hands on his face. 

‘I want to feel you’, you whispered, ‘I want to feel every scar on your body’, you let your hand wander across his back. You could feel your touch left a trail of goosebumps on his skin. 

Levi felt a sudden warmth inside his chest. He never felt something like this, it caught him off guard. He let his hand trace along your collarbone before he slowly slipped the strap of your bra from your shoulder. 

‘Who do you belong to?’, he whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver, ‘To you’, you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. ‘Good girl’, he gently took off your bra, forcing you to arch your back. ‘Hm, you look so beautiful underneath me’. ‘L-levi I-‘, ‘What?’, he tilted his head. ‘I’ve never done this with someone I care about’. 

Even though you were drunk, you felt insecure. You wanted to be good enough for him, to make him feel good. You didn’t want to disappoint him. 

‘Me neither’, he smiled at you before kissing you again, only gentler this time. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good’. ‘Let’s pretend we’re normal for once’, you looked at him, tears filling your eyes, ‘Let’s pretend none of this happened to us, that we’re just two people who are madly in love with each other’. You could see Levi widen his eyes when he noticed you were crying, gently wiping the tears away from under your eyes. ‘Okay’, he softly replied, ‘Whatever makes you happy’, Levi got up from bed. ‘What are you doing?’, ‘Turning off the lights’, he looked at you over his shoulder. 

He looked so perfect without his shirt, his messy hair, the troubled look on his face… 

You could feel him crawling on top of you again, ‘Now we can’t see each other’s scars… So you don’t have to be reminded of the life we’re living’, he placed your hands above your head again, only this time, he intertwined his hands in yours.  

Everything felt like a dream. You never felt so good in your life. For a moment, you did forget about everything, the war, the scars, the pain… For a moment, it was just you and him. 

--- 

You slowly woke up, still laying in his arms. You looked at him, you could see Levi was still sleeping. ‘Shit’, you sighed, already regretting everything that happened. 

You knew the two of you could never be together, you knew this night was a mistake. You just made it harder for the two of you. Before this night, you could pretend nothing was going on between him and you, that you just had some stupid crush on Levi and that he didn’t even care about you, but know that you knew the truth… It would only get harder to ignore your feelings and desires.  

You slowly got out of bed, picking up your clothes from the floor, ‘Leaving?’, you could hear his rough voice. ‘Ai’, you softly replied without looking at him. ‘Y/N-‘, you could feel his hand on your wrist, ‘Don’t do this, please. I can’t forget what happened’. ‘I’m sorry Levi, this was just a drunk mistake’, you put on your shirt. ‘I won’t let you leave’, you could feel his grip tightening around your wrist, ‘I won’t let you pretend nothing happened’. ‘Maybe if things were different-‘, ‘No, don’t do this’, Levi got out of bed, walking towards you, ‘Things aren’t different, we aren’t normal. We're both broken Y/N, and that’s fine-‘, ‘No it isn’t!’, you yelled at him, ‘It isn’t Levi. We can’t do this’, ‘Why not? I thought you didn’t want to live a lie’, he yelled back at you. ‘Because I don’t want to lose you’, you could feel a lump forming in your throat ‘If you died, and we were…’, you quickly wiped away your tears. 

Levi placed his hands on your face, forcing you to look at him.

‘I’m scared too Y/N, but I’m even more scared that this won’t happen again… I can’t live without you, without this. I need you’, you could see tears forming in his eyes, ‘I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll always turn off the lights, fuck, I’ll never turn them on again if that’s what you want’. You chuckled sadly, ‘The sun always rises in the morning Levi’. ‘Please’, he lowered his hands to your wrists, loosely holding them, ‘I need you Y/N’. 

You looked at the man standing in front of you. You never saw this side of him, you never expected him to be this vulnerable with someone.

‘Levi-‘, ‘What Y/N? I don’t get you, you’re so fucking complicated. I care about you, and you care about me. We both want each other more than anything, why are you being so stubborn?’. The cold expression he usually wore on his face was completely gone. You could see the real him, the broken, fragile Levi. The Levi he never showed to anyone, not even to Hange. 

You sat back down on the bed, trying to figure out what you were feeling. 

‘You’re everything I want and more Y/N. I can’t just forget what happened. This night was like a dream to me’, he slowly sat next to you, gently stroking through your hair, ‘You’re perfect, everything about you is’. Levi chuckled, ‘What am I even doing’, he got up again. ‘Look, if you don’t want this, fine. We’ll pretend it never happened’. ‘Huh?’, you frowned at him, confused at his sudden change of heart. ‘I’m not going to fucking beg you Y/N, I’ve made it more than clear that I want you, us’, he lowered his eyes, ‘I’ve let down my walls for you, I thought…’. ‘What?’, ‘I thought you were going to stay Y/N, because I know how you feel about me. I could see it in your eyes, the way you looked at me, the way you smiled, …’, a small smile appeared on his face, ‘Tch’, he shook his head, ‘Just leave if you want’. 

You knew he was right. You were in love with him. You would give your life in a heartbeat to save his. You wanted nothing more than to make him smile like he did last night after the two of you made love. You would never forget the way he laughed at your silly jokes, or the way he pulled you on top of him to hold you close and tell you how perfect you were. You hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. 

‘O-okay’, you whispered. ‘Huh?’, Levi looked at you in surprise. ‘Okay, let’s do this’, you could feel you’d started to shake. ‘Really?’, he widened his eyes. You nodded your head, ‘B-but let’s take things slow’, you nervously scratched your arms, ‘I don’t.. I don’t like the idea of caring about someone so much’. ‘Whatever works for you Y/N. I just need you to be mine, that’s all’, he pulled you up from the bed you were sitting on. ‘I’m yours forever Levi’, you whispered while looking at the ground. You felt nauseous about your decision. You never let yourself be so vulnerable. You knew you just gave Levi a free pass of hurting you anytime he wished. He could hurt you more than anyone ever could. You broke down your walls for him, but you knew it was just as hard for him to trust someone and yet, he did it so effortlessly for you. ‘Please don’t hurt me’, your whole body was shaking, ‘I won’t, I promise’, Levi pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you, ‘You can trust me’. 

[rowyn-writes]

A Mother's Love (Dean x Wife!Reader)

Warnings: Language, fluff, major angst, implications of divorce, arguing, Dean being mean to Jack

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (mentioned only)

Word count: 2.7k

You threw your bag down as you entered the bunker, exhausted from your last hunt. This was one of the rare cases where you worked alone.

Sometimes you needed the time to yourself, away from all the men. Sometimes you would go hunting with Jody and Claire, but even then, those two argued like cats and dogs.

"Y/N," Jack smiled as you entered the kitchen. "How was the hunt?"

"It was pretty good, actually." You grinned as you sat across from him. "I was chasing down this werewolf in Tennessee, and it was really strange. He'd kill one person, turn the next, and repeat that cycle."

"That's. . . Weird." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's what I said. Well," You continued on with the story of your hunt, watching as Jack's eyes widened in amazement and awe.

"Y/N?" Dean called your name, entering the kitchen. "Hey, sweetheart. I didn't know you were home?"

You stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, babe. I got sidetracked. I was just telling Jack about my trip." You smiled, looking over at the boy. You were concerned, as the smile fell from his face and he looked away from you and Dean. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," He nodded, not meeting your eye. "I'll give you two some space." He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Does he seem off to you?" You asked Dean.

"Nah, he acts like he usually does. Squirrelly and weird."

"Says the squirrel himself." You rolled your eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

Dean said nothing as he looked down, an obvious indicator that he was guilty of something. "Dean," You growled lowly. "Did you say something to Jack? Something that would upset him somehow?"

When Dean didn't give you an answer, you shook your head as you follow Jack to his room.

"Jack." You called out. He seemed to be lost in thought, as he didn't react to your words. "Jack!" You said louder, causing him to turn around. There was a tiny amount of fear in his eyes. If you didn't know him, it wouldn't have affected you.

"What's wrong?" You asked softly, resting your hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing." He spoke. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"Jack, I saw how you reacted when Dean came in. You looked like a kicked puppy. Don't tell me it's nothing, kiddo."

In the time you had known Jack, you had grown to care for him deeply. You had always wanted kids, but in this life, it wasn't possible. Well, it was, but you knew you didn't want your children to do what you do. So when Jack was born, you felt extremely happy because it felt like you finally had a child. Albeit, he did look twenty.

"Dean doesn't like me very much." He admitted.

"I'm sure that's not true. . ." You argued weakly. In all honesty, you didn't think Dean liked Jack either. It's not like he was abusive, but he did treat him differently than everyone else.

"But it is, Y/N."

"How do you know, Jack? With Dean, it takes him time to warm up to people. It took him months to actually trust me. He's a cautious person."

"Did he threaten you too?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. His head was tilted to the side, his honey blonde hair falling into his eyes. He had gotten that head tilt from Cas.

"Dean. . . Threatened you?" You whispered hoarsely.

"Yes," He nodded. "He told me if I hurt you or Sam, or anyone, that he would be the one to hunt me down and kill me."

Your mouth popped open in horror. You could never imagine your sweet, loveable, goofy Dean threatening Jack. "What else did he say, Jack? Did he say anything prior to this?"

"He said that he doesn't think that I can be saved. He said that even though you and Sam think that I can, that he doesn't."

"Jack, you don't need to be saved. There is no saving to do. You are a good kid. You would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. I'm so sorry. I should have been there." You sigh.

"He's not wrong, Y/N. I can't be saved. What if I turn out like my father, my real father."

You frowned as you cupped his face in your hands. "Jack, you are nothing, and I mean nothing, like Lucifer. You are just like your mother. You are sweet, caring, and you are empathetic. Just like Kelly."

"You really believe that?" He whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, I don't believe it, Jack. I know it. You are nothing like Lucifer. If anything, you are much more like Castiel."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Yeah," You nodded. "You see, I don't know if you know this, but Cas does this little thing where he tilts his head to the side if he doesn't understand something or if he's perplexed. And I noticed that you do the same thing." Jack's smile widened as you removed your hands from his face. "And neither of you have any knowledge of pop culture. Even though Cas was here for a lot longer than you, he never understood a single reference any of us made. Even if it was something like Scooby Doo." You giggled, feeling your throat tightening at the thought of your dead friend. "And you two state the obvious a lot. Not in a bad way, more in a comedic way. It lightens the mood nearly every time. Cas would rarely smile. When I asked him why, he would say that the world was going to hell and he didn't have anything to smile about. But when he did smile, it would make everyone else smile with him. The same goes for you. Just seeing that little toothy grin of yours makes me smile. I mean hell, you two even look a lot alike."

"Could you tell me more about him?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but I have something to take care of first. Then you and I will cuddle up and watch a movie and I'll tell you everything you want to know about Cas, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." He spoke. "Before you go, could I ask you something?" You nodded. "If I were to have a mother figure, and I called her mom, do you think my mother would be upset?"

"No, sweetheart, I don't think she would be upset. I think that she would be happy that there's someone down here taking care of you and you feel comfortable enough to call them mom." You said, completely oblivious as to what Jack was suggesting.

"Then. . . Could I call you mom?"

You felt the air leave your lungs as his words hit you like a truck. Jack watched as tears welled up in your eyes. Jack was horrified; he had never meant to make you cry. "Yo-you want to call me m-mom?" You stammer.

"If you're not comfortable with it I understand. I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

You cut him off with a tight embrace. "Of course you can call me mom." You whisper, squeezing the boy tightly.

"Why are you crying?" He questioned.

"These are happy tears, Jack. I'm not upset. It's just. . . I never thought that I would have children, but then you came along, and you gave me what I wanted. You gave me a chance to be a mother."

"Thank you for being here for me, mom."

You gave Jack a huge smile as you pulled away. "Okay," You said, putting a hand on his arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my ass of a husband."

---

"Dean Winchester," You boomed, roaming around the bunker in search for your husband.

"Ooooh, you're in trouble." You hear Sam snicker.

"But I didn't do anything. Wait, what day is it?" Dean asked frantically.

"April ninth." Sam quipped.

"Okay, no birthday, no anniversary, so there's that."

You entered The Dean Cave, as Dean called it, seeing red. "What the hell, Winchester." You growled. "Sam, out. Now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Sam said, grabbing his bowl of popcorn and walking out of the room.

"Yes, darling, sweetheart, love of my life. What can I do for you?" Dean spoke sweetly, giving you those stupid, green doe eyes.

"Jack told me." You said simply. "He told me what you said to him. That if it comes down to killing him, that you would be the one to do it. That there was no saving him."

"Y/N, you have to understand where I'm coming from." He tried to reason with you. "You should have seen him. He was stabbing himself with a knife! And it closed up like it was nothing! It's not  normal. He's not normal."

"And?! None of us are normal, Dean. We've all died and came back to life. Sam didn't have a soul, he was hooked on demon blood, yet you were still there for him. You still believed in him. You died and became a demon, you bore the Mark of Cain and had a thing for God's friggin sister! And I still loved you through it. I have been brainwashed and manipulated into hurting all of you, and you still forgave me! Cas betrayed us, and we were still there for him. None of us are fucking normal! So what the hell, Dean? You're holding a grudge against Jack just because of who his dad is?"

"His father is Lucifer, Y/N!"

"Well that's stating the goddamn obvious!" You yelled.

"He could turn on us at any moment! We don't know this kid. We don't know what he can do."

"So we learn, Dean! We should help him figure out his way. Guide him in the right direction. Show him what a true, loving family looks like!"

"We are not his family, Y/N! And he's not our family. He never will be." Dean argued.

You flinched back, glaring at Dean. "How dare you! You son of a bitch! Whether you believe it or not, Jack is family. To me and to Sam. We care about him and love him!"

"He doesn't even know what love means!"

"Yes, he does! Because he feels things, Dean. He cares. He cares about all of us, including you. You know, he asked me if he could call me mom today. Did you know that? He trusts me and cares for me so much that he sees me as a mother figure."

"He's got you brainwashed, Y/N! Can't you see that?!"

"If he looked like his actual age, would you be acting like this?"

"What kind of question is that." He scoffed.

"If Jack looked four months old instead of twenty, would you still be treating him like this?" You asked steadily. Dean remained silent. "See! He is four months old, no matter how old he looks, he's still a baby."

"So, what, you want me to change his diaper or some shit?"

"No! I want you to treat him like a human being!" You yelled.

"But he's not human!"

You and Dean stood your ground, neither of you letting up. "Fine. I'm leaving then. And I'm taking Jack with me."

"No, you're not."

"Fucking watch me, Dean. I can't even look at you right now. Because you are not the man I married. That man was compassionate and caring. This one isn't. And until he comes back, I'm staying away." You cried.

Before Dean could get another word out, you left the den. You noticed that Sam was standing in the hallway, giving you a saddened look. "You're really leaving?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." You sobbed. "But I can't be around him right now. And I don't think Jack should be either. We're going to my parents house for a while. And until he gets his shit together, I'm not coming back.

"I know. I don't understand why Dean is acting like this." He mumbled.

"I don't either. It's so unlike him." You agreed.

"So what are you going to tell Jack?"

"Just that we're going to take a little road trip and visit my parents. I don't know, Sam, this whole thing is so strange to me. But I know have to go."

Sam frowned as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm really going to miss you. But you do what you need to do. And if you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I don't care what time of day it is, call me."

"I will." You squeeze Sam tightly. "Thank you for being an amazing brother and best friend." You pulled away, teary eyed as you parted from your brother in law. "I hope to be back soon."

You softly knocked on Jack's door before entering. "Hey, Jack." You smiled.

"Mom!" He said excitedly. "Are we going to watch movies now?"

"Actually, there's been a change of plans. Me and you are going on a road trip to visit my parents."

"Really? Are Sam and Dean coming with us?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. "No, actually. This is a trip just for us. Sam and Dean wanted to stay here just in case they find a case or something that can get Mary back from apocalypse world. So I'm going to help you pack and then we can get on the road."

---

You had sent Jack to your car, having him put everything in the trunk while you finished up things in the bunker. The last thing you grabbed was a machete that belonged to your father before he gave it to you.

"Don't go." A voice whispered. You turned to see Dean, who looked like he had been crying. "Please don't leave."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears rush to your eyes once more. "Will you accept Jack as family?"

"Y/N-" Dean said, exasperated. "He can stayed here but he's not family."

"That's not good enough, Dean. Because I know how you act around people you don't trust."

"You can't force me to trust him." Dean scoffed.

"That's not what I want. I want you to get to know him. I want you to try."

"Y/N. . . I just. . . I can't."

"I think. . . I think we need time apart." You mumbled.

"Y/N, please –"

"Only for a little bit." You assured him. "They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all." You gave him a sad smile, trying to control your tears.

You turned to leave before Dean's voice stopped you. "If you leave, then we're over. That's it. Don't bother coming home."

You sighed as you looked back at Dean. You cupped his face in your hands and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. You could feel salty tears on your lips as you memorized how Dean's mouth felt against yours. It was warm and soft. You could taste the remnants whiskey on his breath.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead on Dean's. You felt tears streaming down your face as you looked the man you had grown to love over the past ten years. You had been through hell and back, literally. You had lost each other, fell out of love and back in love.

"This isn't goodbye, Dean." You whimpered. "I swear it isn't. I love you with every part of my soul. I'm not choosing Jack over you, okay? I just need time. I need you to wait for me."

"That's all I've ever done, Y/N." Dean shook his head. "I waited on you when you were in relationships, when you were heartbroken, when your sister died, I waited on you to love me back. I'm tired of waiting. I will always love you, and you'll always be with me. You've changed me, and I'm so thankful for it. You've made me a better man. But I can't. . . I can't keep doing this, Y/N." He whispered as he slipped off his wedding band. "This is goodbye." He set the ring in your hand, curling your fingers around it. "Goodbye, sweetheart." He gave you one final kiss. But this one was rough and full of passion. It really was goodbye.

"Dean, please." You cried. He pressed a swift kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you standing alone in the library. Sobs racked through your body as you clutched Dean's ring to your chest. "Please come back." You whispered.

You wiped your face of tears and stuck Dean's ring in your pocket. There would be time for tears later. Right now you just needed to get out of the bunker. As you looked around the library, you realized you had never felt this alone.

[reginarubie]

The younger, more beautiful Queen - Cersei and Sansa (and Daenerys and Margaery; and Brienne of Tarth)

When Cersei recalls Maggy the Frog's prophecy about her being casted down by a younger, more beautiful queen we were all ready, thinking that younger, more beautiful Queen was supposed to be Sansa; then Margaery entered the picture and how could anyone actually ignore the dragon queen in the east and the threat she posed to Cersei and everything she stood for?

At which point many theorized each and every of three girls, younger and all described as beautiful may be the younger, more beautiful queen and would fulfill a part of Cersei's prophecy, each taking something she cared for from her. Which has many merits, especially thinking about how much Martin dislikes prophecies and likes playing around with them nudging towards the realization that we as people are the one who make our own destiny with Cersei being the real catalyst of everything Maggy the Frog prophetized for her.

Under the cut, my own personal vision of this prophecy and why I think that, no matter who will actually cause Cersei's downfall directly, Sansa (assuming she ending as QitN is also book!endgame, which we have good reason to believe it shall be so) is actually the younger, more beautiful queen.

People way more talented than me have already talked about this matter, but I wanted to give my input about it as well because I like to talk and this has been sitting in my files way too long and now I've decided to share with you all to see what you think about it.

Beneath her golden curls, the girl's face wrinkled up in puzzlement. For years after, she took those words to mean that she would not marry Rhaegar until after his father Aerys had died. "I will be queen, though?" asked the younger her.

"Aye." Malice gleamed in Maggy's yellow eyes. "Queen you shall be ... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."

Anger flashed across the child's face. "If she tries I will have my brother kill her."

Maggy 's prophecy has haunted Cersei all these years since first the words had been uttered and it's no wonder. Now, we know Cersei married the king - Robert Baratheon, first of his name - after he had won the Realm through conquest and we also know that the other part of Maggy's prophecy, about Cersei having three children and the King many more than her. So it stands to reason that this part may also come to be true in some way or the other.

Though show!canon has derailed and distanced itself from book!canon, it must hold some kind of importance that Cersei asks Jaime to find Sansa and kill her especially if we connect it with what child Cersei told Maggy the Frog "if she tries I will have my brother kill her"; while she easily, in the show, decides she will be the one to cause Margaery demise as well as Daenerys's.

But let's break the prophecy and try to determinate what exactly it may mean to Cersei now.

Maggy tells her that she will be the Queen for a time, which we know to be the truth, and that she will have three children while the king (Robert) will have over seventeen. She also tells Cersei that one day another may come, that she will be younger and more beautiful.

Note, the first person we know Cersei describes as beautiful, by her words, is Sansa both in show and the book.

In the very first episode of the series, when Martin was still very much part of the writing process of the episodes, Cersei comments on Sansa's beauty and on how it would be wasted in the North (foreshadowing in my opinion Sansa growing past her enamourment with beauty and return North to stay, but I digress).

While in Sansa VI, AGOT, she states "such a beautiful child. I do hope you know how much Joffrey and I love you"

Also, note that this is said about Margaery Tyrell in AFFC in Cersei III: “When all the vows were spoken, the king and his new queen stepped outside the sept to accept congratulations. "Westeros has two queens now, and the young one is as beautiful as the old one," boomed Lyle Crakehall, an oaf of a knight who oft reminded Cersei of her late and unlamented husband.”

(Guess maybe it can’t be Margaery after all tho I do remember someone saying someone else, someone younger — Catelyn about Sansa — would grow even more beautiful than she was and though she did not mean to confront Sansa with Cersei, but with herself, the phrasing did stuck me as strange)

So this girl coming to cast Cersei down will be younger (and all candidates for the place are younger than Cersei) and more beautiful (now this could be as simple as a math count of how many times each candidate is described as beautiful and confront that number with Cersei's).

The counts now stands as following:

Sansa: 18 times (without sharing those times with anyone, all on her own; 2 times she is defined as more beautiful than someone older)

Drawing by @innocent-enyo; sorry I took your pics, I fell in love with them! If it bothers you I will take them down!

Cersei: 17 times (thyo sometimes shared with Margaery so the counts, if we count the shared times with Margaery goes up to 20)

Drawing always by innocent-enyo.

[honorable mention] Brienne of Tarth: 8 times (wouldn’t it be just perfect if Brienne did manage of convince Jaime to fuck loyalty and follow her instead of Cersei? Oh wait… that’s already show canon) after all if every girl can be the another younger, more beautiful who will take (something) everything from Cersei why not Brienne the Beauty?, especially since it’s said sarcastically yet she is far more fair and beautiful in character than Cersei is. I would appreciate the irony and the twist, all I am saying 🤷🏼‍♀️

Drawing by Lucas Werneck.

Margaery: 7 times(of which 3 shared with Cersei)

Margaery Tyrell by innocent-enyo as well.

Daenerys: only 5 times (?! I am surprised as well, tho to be fair she is described as the most beautiful woman in the world once and she was asked if she had grown more beautiful in a lapse of time, but never confronted to another older)

Daenerys Targaryen by innocent-enyo again!

So we have a neck-to-neck between Sansa and Cersei.

And tho I do think each girl will fulfill part of the prophecy (to save Margaery from her marriage to Joffrey he is killed, which catalyses the series of events which brings to Tywin’s death and Myrcella’s; Brienne did convince in the show Jaime to leave Cersei behind for a time; Sansa took her legacy in a way becoming the second ruling queen of a kingdom of Westeros; Margaery in a way took away Tommen as well in the show since learning of her death he committed suicide; Daenerys took the throne and the promise of the child in the show) I think Sansa will be in the end the younger more beautiful queen because the stress on the prophecy is put on the fact that this Queen will take everything Cersei’s holds dear…

…what did Cersei want? [note; now we enter in the show only realm and book hypothesis of the story since we have yet to see the last two books]

To save and protect those she loved; she failed by her ultimate fault;

have the younger, more beautiful queen and enemy killed by her brother (lover)

To sit on the throne as queen regnant because she feels she deserves it.

To be with the man she loves publicly.

What did Sansa achieve by the end of the show:

She marched her troops South and managed to get Jon free and her plotting assured that her siblings were safe (they protected her as well)

Her “brother” (lover?, Martin I have faith in you) killed her rival (Daenerys) to protect her and their family.

She gains the North independence and is named Queen in the North and is the queen with the strongest power love and loyalty (“Ned Stark’s daughter will speak for them, she’s the best they could ask for” and “we didn’t choose you to rule us m’lady but perhaps we should have”)

I truly believe in the books she will end up (or it will be hinted at) with a man she loves or will grow to love.

So, imo, while each and every girl may take something from Cersei and perhaps none of them (fAegon I’m looking at you, sweetie) or only one of them will manage to directly cause her death and defeat in the end Sansa will be the younger, more beautiful Queen because all that Cersei held dear and wanted she managed to achieve and she will be remembered the way Cersei wanted to be remembered, which is ultimately imo the true meaning of Maggy the Frog’s prophecy.

[dancingamongstdust]

Old Habits (Warren Worthington x Reader)

So I was digging around in my old files and I found this from a few years ago. I’m sure I published it somewhere once but I have no idea where. Either way, the writing isn’t too bad so I thought some readers here may enjoy it. 

Before, when you originally met Warren, you had never had an issue with reaching out and grabbing his wings if he tried to march away from you. It had become a habit.

There would be an argument over something inconsequential and both of you would scream and shout like children. Warren would realise that his temper was getting out of control and try to stalk away from the fight before it got out of control. You would snatch a fistful of his feathers or the edge of a wing; anything that was within range was ample gain. It never hurt him but he stopped moving due to the sensation. Then he would turn around and kiss you until your lips were bruised and you couldn’t breathe properly.

This time…

You had been eternally grateful to Charles Xavier for bringing Warren back despite all his previous actions and your heart belonged to whoever had saved his life. When you had seen him walking through that portal, you had sold yourself on the notion that you would never be seeing him again. A bitter reality without the white angel wings that you had spent hours wrapped in.

The fight had been inconsequential really. Something about his sulking and yelling at anybody who tried to get close to him.

But now you withdrew your hand as quickly as you reached out.

Warren still spun around to look, the metal feathers screeching against the walls as he did so. Instead of kissing you, his eyes fell on your bloody hand and he reached for it with tentative hands. “I…” his words died in his throat.

You met his eyes with a clouded expression and sighed. “Sorry,” you said. “I forgot…” Your eyes fell on the huge metal wings and you sighed. “I didn’t think that through. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Warren said. “No, you shouldn’t have had to think about it in first place.” Unlike the feathered version, these wings made a horrendous noise when they bristled and even he winced at the sound. “Just go and get somebody to look at that.” And he stormed back into his temporary room, slamming the door far too loudly behind him.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. Charles had approached you to see if you could possibly fix the situation and maybe convince Warren to relax a little more in the mansion. His end goal obviously being to offer the angelic mutant a permanent place to stay.

Stomach churning, you hurried down the stairs to the nearest mutant that could heal your hand or at least somebody who knew basic medical skills.

Two stitches and a little bit of healing later, you were sitting in your own room and staring down at your bandages. While you had been standing up there, it hadn’t hurt at all but now it was burning like fire. You rubbed it gently and sighed. Warren had always been self-sabotaging. At this point, shutting you out could almost be classified as a hobby of his.

So eventually – at an hour that any reasonable person would be asleep at – you climbed out of bed and marched over to the room to quiet your wailing mind. If you didn’t know Warren’s self-destructive tendencies you would have presumed it was too late.

But you had lived with the man before.

You didn’t bother knocking. You knew that Warren would have pretended he didn’t hear you. So you counted on him forgetting – or purposefully – not locking the door.

“I’m tired of this,” you said when Warren finally noticed you and removed the headphones that were blaring rock music so loudly that you could hear them from across the room. You walked over and sat on an untouched desk, watching the winged mutant carefully. “Every day, you make me sit and watch you turn all that anger and hatred inwardly and I can’t do anything about it. I feel useless when it comes to you. Like there’s nothing I can do to help.”

“Help?” he scoffed. “Help what?”

“You.”

He rolled his eyes and sat up on the bed, those metal feathers screaming a symphony as they were dragged across the wall. “I don’t need your help,” he said. He glanced at your bandaged hand. “Look what happens when you try. I’m fine. They said that my feathered wings will grow back soon and then I’ll be able to get as far away from this fucking place as possible.”

“I want to stay.”

“Then stay.”

You gave a forced laugh. “And here I thought you knew me well enough to know that there isn’t a chance that you would leave without me following.”

Warren crossed his arms and his wings puffed up as he attempted to become more intimidating. It would work on most people. Not you. “Nobody likes codependent twits,” he grumbled. “But then again, it’s not my problem if you want to chase me around the country like some lost poodle. If you get killed, I don’t want anybody blaming it for me.”

“It’s not… alright, no, I’m not rising to that,” you said firmly. “No matter how often you insult me, I’m not going to leave and you know that by now. Warren, won’t you at least consider staying here? There are others who –“

“Joined forces with an ancient evil and attempted to bring about the end of the world because they were offered shiny wings then almost died and had to be saved by their enemy out of pity. Just so many of those assholes running around that I can barely even walk without seeing one.” His hair was falling into his face now but he didn’t seem interested in doing anything about it. “But they don’t count if they switched sides during the actual battle.”

“You were unconscious the majority of the battle.”

“Thank you for reminding me. I wasn’t aware.”

You sighed and reached out to move his hair away from his eyes. It said something that he didn’t move away despite the glare he was sending in your direction. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be able to rest for a little while until you got back onto your feet?” you asked. “I’ve been talking to some of the people here and they’re all friendly if you give them a chance.”

“I don’t see any weapons attached to your back that are constantly hurting people you actually care about,” he noted.

“My hand was my own fault,” you repeated. You stood up and moved closer, reaching the uninjured hand past his head and resting it gently on the metal of his feathers. “See? I’m being careful now and it’s not getting me hurt. If I had taken a few more seconds to think it through, I wouldn’t have grabbed your wing out of habit. But you said they’ll go back to being normal soon.”

“Apparently,” he said. “Some of them have fallen off but they’re meant to do that. What would you do if they stayed metal? You’d have to start finding your own beds instead of curling up next to me constantly. Something tells me you won’t find these wings ‘comforting’.”

A phrase you had always used when speaking about his wings and it hurt to hear him spit it with such bitterness in his tone. It had always been something genuine to you. “They probably won’t keep me as warm as the normal feathers,” you admitted. “But I don’t doubt that I could grow used to them and love them as much as I adored the originals.”

He scoffed. “Always a fucking optimist. Even when I have tattoos that probably will never fade etched into my face.”

“I’m not always an optimist,” you said. “When you disappeared into that cage fighting thing for months without telling me and then came back with your wing fried to a crisp, I was so worried that I thought I would vomit. I lost countless hours due to nightmares about waking up and finding you dead or missing again.”

“And then you did.”

“I was too late,” you said. “No matter what you said, I knew that your wings were making you distressed and I wanted to help but I didn’t know how. If I had figured out how to fix things sooner then there wouldn’t have been a reason for you to go with that asshole.”

Warren just glared at you and then flicked his bedside lamp off and lay down on his side. It used to hurt his wings when he slept like that but you were unsure that the metal felt anything. Either way, you lay your hand on his shoulder temporarily and then took the hint to leave the room. There was nothing else for you to say or do.

Almost a week passed where you only opened the door to throw random food and drink items at Warren where he was pretending to be asleep. Sometimes he would mumble something and other times he would continue to ignore you. You took the bandage off a few days later. It was something Warren undoubtedly noticed but he didn’t say anything until the day you opened the door to find everything strewn across the floor in such a state of disarray that you flinched.

“What’s the problem?” you asked.

Warren glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and muttered something about not having any shirts that weren’t torn to shreds by his new wings. Which later led to you going shopping and returning with a bunch of new shirts with cuts in the back for the new wings. It took you a while and he grumbled under his breath when you dumped them on the floor but you didn’t say anything.

The charade continued day in and day out but you weren’t deterred. You waited patiently for Warren with a well-learned routine. This had happened many times before. A waiting game that you had perfected over many years of worrying about the angelic mutant who held so much of your attention and your heart.

You walked through the door with a milkshake in hand when he was busy plucking the metal feathers off his wings. Silently, you placed it down and settled cross-legged behind him on the bed to help him peel off the shedding metal over the unreachable areas.

It came off easily and you happily spotted some of the soft, white feathers peeking out from beneath the metal. You ran your fingers happily over it and smiled. They would be returning soon.

“You’re going to need to preen these daily while they’re growing out,” you said. You didn’t expect an answer but you said it with the knowledge that you would be the one to do it. “Otherwise they’re going to be crooked and then you won’t be able to fly properly.”

Warren’s feathers fluttered slightly as he turned around to face you. They didn’t sound quite as horrible when they brushed against the wall now and there were fewer grooves than before. Deep scratch marks already tore up the bedframe and one of the bedside lamps had disappeared a week ago. “Just leave.”

“Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Why do you bother?”

Your fingers brushed the doorknob and you shrugged. “It’s just force of habit now.”

[river-bottom-nightmare]

"you were missed, you know.” the voice is light, balancing on the edge of airy like a coin on its rim, in a way only careful practice yielded. so jason whirls around, faster than he normally would in a neatly-pressed suit and loose dress shoes. 

there’s a woman, close cropped red hair swinging into her face and pulling at the corners of her mouth until her expression is as severe as her form. there’s a scar on her jaw and, oh, the memory tumbles into his head as if pushed. kate kane, proof that vigilantism is genetic, once tugged jason into into her side and pulled him away from a particularly leering investor at function. the bite of her nails on his skin was a thousand times sweeter than the man’s smile.

she smirks. “hi.”

“haven’t seen you in a while,” jason responds, attempting casual and instead tripping, falling into his crime lord persona, since he doesn’t know how else to interact with people when he’s jason peter todd-wayne. 

“not since you died,” kate remarks and damn, right for the gullet. “you’ve grown up.”

jason shrugs, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, suddenly feeling all of four feet, eight inches in the face of her candidness. “time’s funny like that.”

she eyes him carefully, trying to fish for the truth in what she believes is a lie wrapped in a careful quip. jason doesn’t blame her: he’s cultivated quite a reputation for himself. but he stripped the sarcasm from his words before he spoke them, and their rawness is shrouded in the bubbling champagne and crystal chandelier around them, but it’s no less present for anyone who knows how to peel the veil back.

“you were missed,” she repeats, satisfied with his answer. “not sure anyone’s told you that since you’ve come back. your family’s a stubborn bunch. i just wanted to make sure.”

“make sure i knew i was missed?” jason clarifies, feeling a little foolish, because dick wouldn’t beg to save his life but there were a few times that his words came close to pleas, and tim had made it clear how much he’d upheld the pedestal he’d put jason on, and alfred had actually told him that to his face. 

but this was the first time he found himself truly believing those familiar words. he hadn’t known kate, not at all. and yet, she nodded, clapped him on the shoulder once, twice, then left, completely unaware of the pit of resentment she’d carved out of jason’s stomach and thrown on the ground until jason felt like he’d slip on it if he moved, if he breathed.

she didn’t look back, but jason’s eyes didn’t stop following her until she was out of sight.

*

"you were missed, you know.” jason doesn’t startle, his training is etched into every scar decorating his skin, and there are times that he grips and holds onto those scars like a lifeline. he’s far too practiced to flinch, but he’d be lying to himself if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

he forgave himself in the next second, though. cassandra cain could make men much more experienced than him recoil. she appeared soundlessly, and folded down beside him with a grace that jason hadn’t seen anywhere outside his family. the amount of space she left between them, the relaxed posture that left visible tension cording through her arms like pulling steel taffy, the tilt to her body that made jason automatically want to open his mouth and let his tumultuous thoughts come out as an oil spill: right now, cass had dick grayson’s brushtrokes all over her.

“dick put you up to this?” 

cass shook her head, then bit her lip in a considering movement. jason wondered if he’d practiced, because bruce had long since broken that dangerous habit out of his children. 

“i am still working on comfort. assurance,”  she said, rifling through the words like flash cards, picking the most accurate ones. “i thought i’d practice.”

“oh? and why exactly do you think i need comfort.”

“i overheard your argument,” she admitted, “with bruce.”

“i didn’t think anyone was there.”

“i didn’t mean to,” she said. “sorry. but i heard what you said.”

jason scoffed. “prove me wrong. one step forward, two steps back with that dense motherfucker.”

“sign of protection,” cass said. “not distrust.”

out of everyone to say that to him, cass was probably the least likely. jason had thought she, of all people, would be on his side after he found the microchip in his helmet. she, of all people, would value independence after being owned for so long.

“by the time he found you, you were dead. and he missed you more than anything. he will never let that happen again.”

“oh yeah? privacy mean nothing to him? i know he’s crazy about this stuff but come on. there’s a limit.”

“you are not relying on him because of this.” cass stood up, stretching her back, though jason was sure she really didn’t have to. “he is relying on you. let him.”

*

“you were missed, you know.” 

“what, speaking from personal experience? i ain’t you, west.” jason could feel the gentle thrum of electricity behind him, making his hair stand on edge. two steps backward, and he’d be pulled into that void, that black hole of energy, that swirling vortex of pure power condensed into something human-shaped.

except he wouldn’t. it was just wally. just dick’s best friend joining him outside on the balcony. jason didn’t know how dick and tim could stand to be around speedsters willingly, for fun.

“i mean, sort of,” wally shrugged. “but me and you had very different experiences.”

“yeah, west, i’m not sure who else has been stuck in the fucking speedforce.”

wally snorted, an if only you knew hidden in plain sight. jason decided he really didn’t want to know. “i mean there’s that,” the speedster concedes, “but also, everyone forgot i existed. that didn’t happen with you.”

“you sure about that?” 

“hey,” wally eyed him, his eyes suddenly sharp. “don’t start that shit. i was erased from the memories of everyone i loved. you did nothing but stay in the memories of your family.”

“now i know we’re talking about two different things.”

“jason,” wally sighed, and the sheer exasperation pouring off him made jason want curl his fingers, bring them up for a swing, taste the bite of pain that would prick at his knuckles, nevermind the fact that wally would dodge anyway. “don’t do that.”

he turned to face the speedster, arms crossed deliberately over his chest. “where the hell do you get off acting like dick?”

“you’re more like dick than you realize,” wally said, “and i spent half my childhood dealing with his moods. actually, i still do.”

“do you have a point?” jason snapped, starting to get irritated. he wasn’t sure why. he’d spent his entire life one one end of a scale, dick grayson on the other. he’d always tipped his end down. this was the first time someone was telling him the scale was even.

“just because your family didn’t mourn the way you wanted them to,” wally said, “doesn’t mean they didn’t mourn you.”

“fuck you.”

“they loved you. and they missed you,” wally continues, steamrolling right over jason in a way most speedsters were prone to do. “there’s no minimum requirement for loss. no ‘if you didn’t do this, then you didn’t grieve me.’ that’s not even a situation, ever.”

“so that makes everything bruce did okay?” jason sputtered

“not at all. god knows i disagree with bruce on more things than i tolerate. but this is one thing you can’t fault him on.”

it wasn’t that easy, though. jason wanted to scream it at wally’s face, it wasn’t that easy. it wasn’t about whether bruce loved him enough,,,,except maybe it was. jason wanted bruce to have loved him enough to make a difference in gotham. jason wanted bruce to have missed him enough to change things, because change meant that bruce had been so hurt by his death that he refused to let it happen to anyone else again.

bruce had made a vow after his parents died. the fifteen year old inside jason was begging bruce why he hadn’t been afforded the same devotion. jason was his son.

“just something to think about,” wally said, then stepped backward, making to go inside where dick was calling him. “you were afforded the luxury of coming back with a place left empty in your family for you. you didn’t have to make it, like i did.”

“being dead, then coming back wrong isn’t a fucking luxury,” jason snarled.

with a shrug, wally turned, a little faster than the average human, lightning sparking at his heels as he left jason alone on the balcony. “depends on your definition of wrong.”

jason get therapy. please. also happy deathday

honestly i couldn’t decide whose side of the argument i was on, jason’s or wally’s.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[lazarettta]

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

~~

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

~~

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

[burnedbyshoto]

seven

Rich and powerful men can marry seven different women in a wild attempt to produce the perfect heir. Todoroki Enji is one of these powerful men, and you’re his seventh bride.

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pairing: todoroki enji (endeavor) x fem!reader

warnings: edo period!endeavor (king henry viii inspo), forced marriage, alcohol consumption, 18+, smut, non-con, dub-con, size difference, breeding kink, rough-sex, pain, degradation, & mind break

word count: 5,750

a/n: fuck that family who started the fire in socal. my campus is literally raining ashes up in oregon. im so tired. two exams monday. im going to be going on meds for anxiety and adhd soon, so thats new. uh,,, this is like LOL its a bit bad,,, but I really, really lust over asshole enji who only wants to breed bitches and thats it. this is for the bnharem fantasy au collab, i wan’t that creative sorry see ya later skaters.

PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS.

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One.

Fate: Spared.

Two.

Fate: Executed.

Three.

Fate: Died during childbirth.

Four.

Fate: Spared.

Five.

Fate: Executed.

Six.

Fate: Executed.

Seven.

Fate: Unknown.

Silks and expensive cloth held a scent that was irreplicable.

The smooth smell of the layers upon layers of fabric wrapped around your body did nothing to quench the building layer of ice in your stomach.

You were scared.

Rightfully so.

Six women came before you, and if you wanted to live, you would have to do better than them.

Marrying the Todoroki Clan head was something that most women could only dream of accomplishing in this day and age. The Todoroki’s, after all, are strong, rich, powerful, undefeated. They held the real power in this age, more influential and notable than the emperor that repeatedly begged the family for support, be it in power, strength, or money.

But, it was also known knowledge that the man who sat at the head of the clan, who held the power of the Todoroki name and future, was a man not to be trifled with.

Todoroki Enji was an endeavor of a man.

There had always been whispers about the head of the family, how he stood eight feet tall, and how his body was not lean like most warriors, but thick and savagely sturdy. His hair was red, blessed by the sun some claimed, or cursed by the devil others alleged. His temper and barbaric nature on the battlefield were, of course, rumored by the people on your lands, who had been indebted by the Todoroki Clan because of their protection and profits. 

Todoroki Enji was not a man to be trifled with.

Especially not if the rumors were true.

He was painted as a demon by everyone. Still, Enji was no demon, he was human, and if he was to allow the Todoroki Clan's legacy to continue, he needed an heir… but since he was human, he was aging.

Six women.

You knew that it was six women because you had been alive to experience five of them.

You remember the newly married couple being paraded through the streets.

Todoroki Enji remained hidden within his vehicle's confines while his new wife, doe-eyed, smiling, effervescent, would greet the gathered crowds. You often wondered what they thought when you would conjure in respect for the man who ensured your childhood and adolescence were not corrupted by thieves and horror.

You wondered what she thought when promising the village elders that she would produce a strong, male heir. You raised an eyebrow at the thought that maybe, just maybe they believed that they would be different -- be able to birth a strong, capable male heir.

Six wives.

Twenty children.

Two weak, sickly boys.

A whole clan of girls.

Were they idiotic, blind, or batshit insane to ever believe that they would be different?

You undoubtedly didn’t know.

Three of the six had been executed.

Three of six had been proud to state they would produce a strong male Todoroki heir, noting that his two sons -- Touya and Natsuo -- would be removed from the family as soon as their strong son was born. 

One of those three birthed a weak, sickly baby boy. She passed in childbirth and took him with her one day after.

Another of those three birthed four girls, two sets of twins because, of course, they were given two chances. She was executed on treason.

The final of those three had simply pissed him off; rumor had it. Her pussy was too tight, unwilling to sheath the thick massive cock that belonged to him… no point in breaking something that wouldn’t bend when there was more pussy out there (you remember she had been ugly too).

But what you didn’t expect was for his clan members to come through your village's streets with an announcement in hand.

Of the six women before you, three had held significant political power -- the three that survived.

Of the remaining three, there was a poet, the other a woman soldier of his, and the last being a clan member.

You had never known what the decision process was, not even a little bit, so when men dressed in dark robes with the Todoroki sigil and katana’s strapped to their sides infiltrated your village, you were on edge.

“All women who are fertile and beautiful, line up, and no, we don’t care if you’re married,” was the short, almost taunting order, and you had never felt sicker.

You were among the seventy females in your village that matched the requirement they demanded. 

Your sight was almost glued to the floor as they walked through you all, your fists grabbing your light blue kimono as the men groped the women in line, teasing the breasts of the pregnant women, rutting their poorly concealed cocks through the valley of asses, shoving between some girls thighs with loopy, proud smiles on their faces, beating any man who attempted to protect any one of their honors. 

But you were towards the end of the line, standing where they decided to save for last, and you were helpless to it all. You watched knowing that of the sixty-something women ahead of you, none of them remained. 

The whimpers, cries, and whines grew louder by your ear, your spine rigid and sore with its tightness as the girl beside you dropped to the floor in her fear. You couldn’t bother looking at her as the parting of their robes seemed to be akin to gunpowder going off in your ears. The horrified squeal on her tongue being silenced when a cock slammed through her lips, the tears pouring down her face useless, if anything, only encouraging their roughhousing. 

Your lip curled at the sound of her pathetic whining, the incessant need of her to tell them that she was not okay with this was nails on an iron plate. It annoyed you, it pissed you off.

“Look at this one,” the snickering laughter of a man breathed by your ear, instantly stilling and freezing the anger that was once radiating like fire from your chest. “She doesn’t look ashamed… she looks like she’s jealous. Maybe these common bitches do have someone good enough for Boss.”

Spluttering gasps and hiccuping cries came from the ground, and you couldn’t even bother glancing at the woman you had known all your life laying on the floor, kimono ripped open, and white, sticky cum dripping from her mouth.

“Well, there’s nothing like taking her out for a test run,” came a sleazy smile, and when two hands gripped at your clothed breasts, you didn’t so much as raise a brow at their perverted actions.

You had won in the end against them. Each perverted, twisted intention they placed against you, dirt crusted fingernails digging into your arms, purpling, throbbing cocks pressed into your backside… it hadn’t mattered.

You didn’t budge.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t make a noise.

A simple smirk remaining on their faces at your inevitable victory against the other women in your village -- against the crying, cum stuffed women who stared at your victorious and stubborn form without a clue on how you managed.

And where did that land you?

In a room with only one window too high up for an average person to reach, white silks and fabrics adorning your body, and ceremonial ornaments in your hair.

Six women came before you, but today, you would become the seventh.

With you, there would be seven women to have wed Todoroki Enji, but you weren’t scared because you feared the fate of the six before you. No, you were much better than them; you already knew that for a fact.

The anxiety that coursed through your veins created that ice pit in your stomach came from one place and one place only.

Your cunt already sobbed at the thought of even attempting at taking his thick, veiny cock you knew was the size of your thigh later tonight.

A virgin like you had no chance of survival.

The doors to your room soon slammed open, and your back stiffened at the sight of a familiar face of an escort you had. His eyes didn’t meet yours; they were focused at the wall, his face tense and tight.

“It’s best we leave now, y/l/n, Todoroki-sama doesn’t like waiting.”

The weight of the white silk on your body felt like a brick when you stood up from your position, and you wondered if the sweat from your pits and palms would damage the kimono -- if it was noticeable. But you had a duty, and as number seven, you had no motive to be executed before even getting the chance to prove yourself.

You knew how wishes worked; the secret was in being silent about your desire… never reveal what your wish was, or the world wouldn’t grant it.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself every time you heard the all too familiar words of: “I’ll produce a fine Todoroki heir,” through the lips of the dead and the divorced. They had spoken it to the universe, acknowledged what they needed, and the cruel world failed them each and every time.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, so consumed by the idea of what would happen tonight, you hardly realized that with the heaving puffing breathes you took to keep up with the man’s ridiculous strides, that you had made it to the shrine that you had been brought to wed.

But you couldn’t even take in the beauty of the shrine to your left because you were more interested in who was standing in the pathway towards the shrine.

Todoroki Enji.

He stood on the stone-paved path, his bulky, beefy arms folded across his chest, the fabric of his kimono taut and tight against his flexed muscle, and a sour frown on his face. It was as the rumors had spoken, you realized when you stopped mere strides away from your future husband, he was a man that looked both godly and cursed.

Bright red hair glistened like copper pans under the sunlight, waving and flickering like a raging fire with every small burst of wind. He stood at almost eight feet high, maybe eight feet, you had no idea. All you knew is that as your feet stumbled when getting near to this man, you were dwarfed, feeling like a child next to their father as you gazed up at his unmoving, scarred face. His eyes didn’t look down at you, but even you could see the clear, sharp blue in them, and for the first time, you questioned reality.

Was this man truly human? Was he genuinely Japanese?

Seeing him before you made your knees buckle in fear, arousal, and anticipation.

You wanted to see what had made the sixth scream to stop.

You wanted to see just what he was hiding behind the ridiculously tight fitted kimono, but your thoughts were yanked away when his hand -- no doubt bigger than your head -- pressed to space between your shoulder blades and pushed you.

“We’re on a tight schedule,” he merely growled, his eyes burning at something a million miles away, and with a small, pitiful whimper, you allowed him to lead the way.

The wedding ceremony was… odd, to say the least.

While you had never been married, you had attended a few weddings within your lifetime already, and never once had it felt so disturbing dead and raw as it had today. This Shinto ceremony, typically doused with symbolism and motifs for the greatest possible outcome for the union between you and Todoroki Enji, was stripped from the shrine walls, leaving the walls barren and cold as both he and the priest proceeded through the ceremony at breakneck speed.

It wasn’t something Enji wanted; you realized that clearly the moment he refused to meet your gaze; his blue eyes remaining on the priest.

Everything the both of you performed together was done haphazardly, the lack of symbols you had always wished to see in your wedding ceremony forgotten, undoubtedly seen as a farce by a man like Todoroki Enji, but still, your heart ached.

You hadn’t noticed when the ceremony had ended; Enji never once allowing you to move, or do anything for that matter, by yourself. There was no use in fighting against a man who’s entire hand fit around your forearm, his thumb even resting against his fingernail -- oh yes, this man was huge.

There was no telling when he paraded you through the streets of his territory, allowing you to numbly speak to the village elders, to allow your parents to press their sweaty palms to your cheeks because god, please, please survive this, their touch practically sobbed. You smiled at them, eyes numb with the reality of what this was going to be for you, but the cheerful tone on your tongue remained optimistic and bright with every passing word. 

The scornful thoughts of the sixth woman being too weak to handle Enji had dissipated, and you wondered just what the other five did to survive what you knew was a massive fucking cock hidden beneath the shrowds of his black kimono.

You would survive, you would survive, you would survive.

But far before you were ready to, you arrived back at the Todoroki front, the wooden estate standing sturdy and strong, the air of power and aura almost tangible. The samurai and clansmen who had undoubtedly awaited for you and your now-husband (that was still odd to think about) to return. Pairs of warm, weathered hands helped you from the carriage, and without so much of a whisper of thanks, they escorted you away, heads bowed at the mercy of their leader.

Once more, you were abandoned in your room.

The window no longer allowed the streaming setting sunlight in, your room was in the eastern part of the estate, and with the nighttime coming, the setting sun was merely a memory to you.

And in that room, the tiny, unspacious room that seemed much more for a prisoner than the seventh wife of Todoroki Enji, you tried not to cry.

The door slamming open hours after you had fallen asleep had taken you by surprise.

Enji had left you to your own entertainment, and long after you were served dinner, and informed that no, Todoroki-sama would not be visiting you right now because he was busy, you had sat on the bed in your silks and robes, numbly looking at the star-filled sky. Sleep was the only thing you could do, and with the last servant visit being past midnight, you took to sleep.

Except that you forgot a sparing, important detail.

This was Todoroki Enji’s world, and you were merely his legal fuckhole.

The heavy footsteps of Enji entering the room echoed in your ear, and the door closed behind him, solidifying the end of the beginning of what you once knew. 

“Seven,” he growled into the night, and your spine snapped straight.

He loomed above you, the tatami mat suddenly feeling like a brick wall against your side, and you swallowed pathetically at the way his deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

This had been the first time you had heard him speak, all other forms of communication between him and the priest and he and his clan members had been nonverbal, solely told through those piercing blue eyes that only let you dream of what he sounded like -- of what he was demanding. But you lay confused, your eyebrows scrunched at just why he had called out the number seven?

Seven what?

You twisted where you lay, your eyes meeting his own, and despite the lack of light in the room, you could see the cold, distant glint in his eyes.

“Oh good,” he mocked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes squinted in his apparent lack of approval. “You can hear.”

“S-Seven what?” you stammer, your elbow pressing into the mat, pushing you up so that you could look at your husband, uncertainty and discomfort scorching every nerve in your body. 

You didn’t know what to do.

Then, it hit you. The bitter, numbing smell of alcohol coated in a fine layer around his skin, the small puffs of angry air from his mouth letting you know that your husband was inebriated, and your throat clenched when he began to dismantle his kimono.

“T-This isn’t a good idea!” you stammer, the white silk robes you were still dressed in because they refused to allow you a set of sleeping clothes because the marriage needed to be consummated, felt stiff and not protective enough. “You won’t produce a proper heir if you’re intoxicated.”

Enji raised an eyebrow at you, and your thudding heart failed to cease as his robes hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. 

Whiskey dick wasn’t something foreign to you; the countless men you had sucked off in your time, the numerous sex stories you had been shared with always had some instance of a man getting drunk and being able to get their cock hard, but this…?

If this was Enji’s whiskey dick, you weren’t sure what to expect of his sober cock.

His cock was already hard, the veins in his cock large, plentiful, and bulging in many areas. It was thick, without a doubt thick enough where it would take both your hands to circle around his cock, and it was long, the swollen weeping tip leaking against his abdomen. His cock was magnificent yet deadly, and your pussy spasmed in fear of having that monster all twelve plus inches shoved into your virgin cunt.

“The fuck are you doing, seven?” Enji snarled, his powerful naked legs moving toward you, his feet pressing into the mat, and his hand reaching out to you. “I didn’t marry you for you to just stare at my fucking cock like some piss-shit baby.”

There was no time to panic, protest, or even prepare yourself for the sudden sharp, dull ache in your jaw when he pressed his monster cock past your chapped, chewed lips. 

Immediately, it was overwhelming.

The engorging cock had barely passed your lips, but you were already gagging against the unwelcomed size, the horrid ache sending spilling tears down your cheeks, doing nothing but annoying the man before you. His hands gripped your hair, his eyes not even bothering to look at you as he fucked your mouth.

“Stop fucking resisting,” Enji snarled, his hips coming to meet your mouth in a vicious, unpleasant snap, the head of his cock pressing down your clenched throat, and so much of his cock still remaining far from your mouth. “Take my cock like the fucking whore I know you are, seven.”

You gasp for air, but with his cock ramming further and further down your throat, the scalding heat emitting from his skin burning your throat, making you gag and choke around him in your fear. You couldn’t breathe, you realized in a panic, and your eyes widened in fear, drool and spit spilling down your chin pathetically as Enji hums contently.

“Don’t feel so scared, seven,” Enji cruelly smirked up at the ceiling, his hips lazily, sloppily, yet powerfully delivering his cock into your bulging throat. “I heard what you did to my men, how you let them fuck you however they saw fit, how you scoffed and scowled at the other pathetic weak bitches who couldn’t handle a little groping… I thought you would like this? What is it? Never had a real fucking cock before? A little whore like yourself only gotten shitty little cocks?”

Wordlessly, you begged to be shown mercy, your vision blackening as he choked out all forms of oxygen, his war weathered body unbothered by your clawing fingers on his thighs. No, you were too weak for it to hurt him.

His hands left your hair, and you collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, choking, and coughing for oxygen that only burned all through your system, sitting unpleasantly in your lungs while tears and saliva mixed on your throat.

“Where the fuck are do you think you’re going, seven?” Enji barked, his body suddenly looming over yours, and you felt trapped, unable to move as the mountain of a man trapped you between his sturdy arms and legs. His cock, warm and sticky with your spit and his precum, sat heavily on your stomach, the size difference between the two of you even more pronounced when the tip of his cock rested at the bottom of your ribcage. “All you did was lube up my cock for your stupid, tight pussy. Don’t think I was satisfied with that childish blowjob -- next time, if you want to cry, make sure it’s loud enough that I feel it against my cock.”

You pathetically moan at his words, the tears still falling from your eyes because your throat and jaw hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Please,” you gasped as his cinder hot hands pressed to your breasts against your kimono, he quickly enveloped your tender flesh in his hands despite the fabric. “Please, no more.”

“I don’t remember this marriage being about you,” he mocked, and with no more of a glinting snarl of his mouth, he tore the kimono straight off your body. The horrified scream that left your lips was silenced by the echoing slap across your face.

Pain blistered at the side of your face, and the resulting tears couldn’t be felt against your numbed skin as Enji continued his conquest, his fingers pulling and ripping any and all fabric pressed against your body.

“Get away!” you weakly whimpered, body trembling and twisting as you attempted to escape the man looming above you, finally ridding you of all dresses, hands pressing to the back of your thighs to push you into a position that he liked. “Leave me alone, leave me alone…”

There was no fire in your words, nothing but the aching fear and undeniable terror.

But the words did nothing to Enji, who continued to move you so that your tight, virgin cunt lined up with his throbbing, red cockhead. Even like this, your face was pressed into his chest. His body unworldly larger than yours, incredibly goliath compared to you.

“You know, seven, if you keep trying to escape me and you keep trying to save yourself, then why are you so fucking wet with everything I’ve done?” he growls down at you, his piercing blue eyes staring straight through you, the tears falling down your face doing nothing but encouraging him because he was right… your cunt, just like his cock, was wet, dripping with the undeniable pleasure of this all. There was a fire, a shameful fire, in your pussy, throbbing in time with the stinging pulse in your face that begged for Enji’s cock despite it all. “You fucking tiny little slut… I can feel just how my actions -- how my words -- affect you, getting you off like a bitch in heat! Your efforts to hide it are pathetic, fucking useless.”

Pain.

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, a soundless shriek breaking past your bleeding lips, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and your face flushed in pain and lust press into his chest, the only part of him you could touch. 

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!” you cried, fat and painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down the apples of your cheeks while Enji sighed at the feeling of your hot cunt against his cock, blood seeping out of your pussy in such a pretty way he couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he observes, his hips slamming against you without warning, his mind only caring about him, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “Mhm, this is nice. A tight, young pussy always means a good womb, you’ll give me the heir I need… I’ll make sure to fuck you full of my cum.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

“Hey.” SLAP. Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered and so spaced between it was as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, blue eyes burning demonly down at you (you wondered if this was the same look those who survived to see him on the battlefield claimed he had), his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. You pressed further into the tatami, the angle of penetration only furthering with your desperate screams to be gentler. “Shut the hell up, you’re annoying me with all this fucking screaming. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips not becoming any easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but still a throbbing pain than had your fingernails cutting into his skin. “You have to be gentler! Be gentler, please be gentler! You’re so much bigger than me!!! My pussy can’t… my pussy can’t handle this!”

The fabric of the kimono under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the mat, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. He slammed your knees into the mat, increasing the angle of his penetration by a tenfold, sending you into another round of howling pain and pleasure as his cock slammed into your cervix -- bruising and scalding your puffy, sensitive walls with every powerful thrust. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain and pleasure and fear were cut off by an enormous fist around your neck, and his voice echoed from above you.

“Didn’t your dad teach you fucking whore to be quiet, seven?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, you went light-headed and limp, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the esteemed nobleman of Japan. “You’re my breeding whore, do you understand? You have no value to me except to be breed, to be full of my cum, to carry my child. You are nothing more than an object. Do. You. understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

“Y-Yes!” you choke on your tongue.

“Repeat it!”

“I’m your breeding whore! Fill me with your cum, I wanna… fuck, I w-wanna carry your children! I’m your object, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours!”

“There we go,” Enji sighs contently, his broad chest pressing your thighs further into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing the jabbing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he groans, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, your legs then wrap around his body, shaking as he makes no effort to slow in his advances, your finger drawing blood from where they raked down his back because he was burning an outline of your body into the mat. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

You were only here to be bred, to give him a son, the strongest son the entire country of Japan -- nay, the world -- has ever seen.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up to meet him, a prayer that it would ease this brutal force he was using. It was too much -- his cock easily overpowering your throbbing cunt.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gouge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal, your breath hot and sticky between the valley of his chest. Your tongue pressing against his skin akin to some infant looking to suck their mothers tit.

The force in which Enji slammed his hips to meet yours. Above your ear, the growling pants that mocked you for enjoying this demeaned you for thinking you were anything more than his breeding whore sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of a conflagration to your core. When your head smashed against the mat because you could no longer keep your head up. 

“That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips with your mindless babble, your eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure drowned in pain sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re far from over.”

Enji was raw power, destruction, and strength. He pistoled into your sobbing core with the intent of getting his sperm into your cunt, to get his sperm that would get him a son into you, other than that, he was uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining and crying. Your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the floor begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa — holy shit, r-right there! M-More, more, more, more--”

“What? Do you need to come already, seven?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him. “Do you really think I’ll let you cum before me?”

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. 

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand moving from pressing onto the tatami mat and pushing into your opened mouth, pressing onto your tongue. “Suck my fingers like a good whore, show me that you’re not gonna disappoint me. Suck my fingers.” you sob in the thought, not because you’re fearful of disappointing the man, but because the feeling of his fingers in your mouth makes your cunt throb ludicrously, your tongue desperately wrapping around the appendages, pushing through the space of his fingers. “I’m going to fill you up so good, breeding whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that. With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrust that sends his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it’s bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, his and your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

Your mouth opened, sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite your core's undeniable tremor and ache. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants, your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at the window painted with the rising morning sun.

Your room was in the east wing, after all.

You didn’t even protest when he pressed a smooth wooden plug into your cunt to “ensure you were bred to succession.”

He would soon leave your room, stumbling out with a drunken hiccup, leaving you to lay on a once white kimono… a once white kimono drenched in cum, blood, sweat, and tears.

You wouldn’t know until two weeks later, but Todoroki Enji had succeeded in breeding you, and you would eventually lay in a birthing room with blood and sweat and tears soaking your skin as a silent baby boy was placed in your arms.

“And what will his name be?” the midwife asked, her eyes wide with joy for you and Enji.

“...Shouto.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Do You Trust Me?

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Summary: When Lenora finds out she’s pregnant and another girl turns up pregnant and murdered, Arvin and Y/N take matters into their own hands. 

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Sexual Assualt, Teen Pregnancy, Cursing, Mentions of Rape, Bullying, Dark Religious Themes, Talk of Abortion  DO NOT READ IF THESE BOTHER YOU (Very similar things to the movie)

Word Count: 7000

A/N: So Lenora doesn’t die in this but that part is instead replaced by the Reaster girl being found dead (I named her Jeanette... I didn’t remember if they gave her a first name)

A/N 2: I know I’m writing characters that exist already but like I feel like I’m going to Hell for writing this. Any other Christians feel that way about liking the movie?

___________________________________

Secrets were hard to keep in such a small town as Coal Creek. Everyone knew everyone and if one person saw something, the whole town knew about it by next morning. That’s why Lenora had kept her secrets with Reverend Teagarden from all except you. Other than Arvin, you were her only friend in the world. It felt nice to have another girl to talk to because as much as she loved her brother, it was nothing like having a sister. Though you weren’t related, just friends from school, it was the closest thing she had. 

The two of you had bonded over the harassment from boys at school. Unlike Lenora, you had no problem dishing back threats and abuse. You were more like Arvin in that sense, not always terrified that the Lord was going to smite you for defending yourself. You and Arvin were close too because of it. 

The day you two met, he’d gone to pick Lenora up from school one day to find the two of you cornered out back by Dinwoodie and his boys. They called Lenora ugly, as per their daily routine, and said they wouldn’t fuck her with a bag on a her head. Tommy Matheson had a paper bag held over her face, holding her down while she squirmed. 

“There ain’t nothing alive that would willingly let you touch them, Dinwoodie!” You spat while Orville Buckman held you back, his arms wrapped around your body, keeping your arms . pinned to your side, “You’re a vile thing. Hell, I’m sure a dead pig wouldn’t let you fuck it.” 

Dinwoodie spun around and blew a hard smack across your face, “Lenora here ain’t much different than that. But you on the other hand, I’d take you whether you wanted it or not. I like a girl with a dirty mouth. And lucky you, I won’t make you wear the bag.” 

He fisted your hair and pulled your face close to him, trying to force a kiss from you but spat in his face, a massive drip of saliva landing in his eyes and smaller particles spewed across his lips. “You nasty bi-” Gene Dinwoodie reared back, ready to hit you again when suddenly Arvin came out of nowhere, sending a solid blow straight into Gene’s face, sending him flying to the ground with a crack. 

Orville let you go to go after Arvin and Tommy did the same to Lenora. You ran over to her and pulled the bag from her head, seeing evidence of her silent tears all over her face. Once you saw she was okay though, you ran over to help Arvin, who had found himself dragged to the ground by the three boys. Lenora got up too, screaming for them to stop. 

“Stop!” You yelled, pulling at Gene’s arms to try and get him to stop kicking Arvin. He shoved you back harshly by the chest but you caught yourself, returning with a sharp blow to his face with your locked fist. 

The enraged boy smacked you even harder than before, sending your ass to the ground with thud that you knew would leave a bruise. Your hands and knees got skinned up as you skid slightly on the pavement. Lenora kept pulling on the boys too, begging them to stop but to no avail. 

“Ha, sister fucker!” The three of them called out to Arvin before leaving the three of you alone. 

“Are you okay?” You asked the boy that you hadn’t met before, who was curled up in a ball on the ground and holding his stomach. He groaned in response, trying to push himself up but requiring your assistance. “Thank you for what you did back there. I’m sorry this happened.” 

He stretched, flinching at the slight movement. He sent a small nod towards you but then turned towards Lenora, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, Lenora.” Words couldn’t describe the guilt he felt for allowing this to happen. 

“It-it’s okay, Arvin. It wasn’t that bad this time. Y/N here took the brunt of it, unfortunately.” Lenora turned to you, “‘M sorry about that, by the way. You didn’t need to step in for me.” 

You had stood up about the same time Arvin did, brushing as much of the dirt off your bleeding and scraped up knees as you could without flinching, “Those guys are ass holes, Lenora. I did need to.” 

Lenora piped up, “Oh, um, Y/N, this is my brother Arvin. Arvin, this is Y/N. She just moved here.” 

“It’s nice to meet ya.” You greeted the boy with a pained smile, your face hurting from the blows you’d just taken. 

Arvin nodded, “You too.” He paused for a moment, “Can I give you a ride home? I don’t need them boys catching up with you again on the ride home. Besides, your face is getting mighty red. I might have something back at my house to keep it from bruising up too bad.” 

You looked over at Lenora, sending her a questioning look, like asking if you could trust this boy who had just come to your rescue, which may have seemed like an odd inquiry to have since he just tried to take on the guys harassing you, but your encounters with boys in this town hadn’t gone all too well thus far. The girl looked unfazed though with almost a hint of excitement that you could possibly be going to her home. 

“Um, yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.” You tucked a messy strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at Arvin to see that he was already staring at you. 

That was months ago. You’d gotten settled into Coal Creek by now and the abuse from Dinwoodie had stopped entirely after Arvin had gone full vigilante to beat the shit out of them all. Speaking of Arvin, the day he saved you and Lenora, he asked you on a date and the pair of you had been going steady ever since. If there was ever a couple to not be fucked with, the town had learned it was you two. 

This weekend, you’d gone over to the Russel’s home for supper at their Grandma’s invitation. It was delicious, as usual, as that woman had the God-given ability to produce miracles in that kitchen. As you all finished up, Uncle Earskell asked Arvin to help with something upstairs so he left without a second thought to help his kin. 

Lenora had been looking at you funny all night, as if trying to catch your eye. After helping Grandma (which she insisted you call her as well) clean up supper, Lenora pulled you off to the side, “Y/N, let’s go on a walk. I need to tell you something.” 

The weight in her eyes told you how serious this was so you just nodded, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” 

She grabbed a lantern on her way out the door and towards the barn. It was already dark, despite only being seven in the evening. Lenora led you out there and then closed the door before sitting on the hay. “So what is it?” You asked nervously. Normally, you would have made a joke but something told you that this wasn’t a joking matter. Anxiety buzzed all around her. 

“Y’know the new pastor? Preston Teagarden?” Lenora began, wringing her hands together and beginning to hide under her long red hair. 

You nodded, the question having an obvious answer as everyone, including your God fearing Mama and Aunt, went to church every Sunday. “What about ‘im?” 

“Well… um… y’see. We… we had sex.” She whispered the last word like it was the dirtiest thing she could fathom saying. 

Your eyes blew wide and your mouth dropped open, “You what?” You whispered back in shock. 

“Shh!” She held her finger up to her lips, “He said that to bear yourself as God made his first children was to truly turn yourself to Him.” 

You were having a difficult time processing this new information. Arvin and you had both agreed that there was something off about that new preacher since the first day you met him but you wouldn’t have guessed it was anything like this. “Lenora, that makes no sense. God sees everything. He’s already seen you in your birthday suit. He doesn’t need the preacher to see it too.” 

Part of you felt bad for the way you were reacting, especially when you saw the way your best friend shrunk back a little in embarrassment. Clearly, he’d manipulated her into getting what he wanted, using her faith as a weapon for her sexual exploitation, but of course she didn’t see it like that because his words were specifically tailored to get her to believe him. Now as you said these things, though, it was becoming clearer to Lenora that she had been manipulated. 

“That’s not all…” She continued. 

You held her arm gently, “What is it?” 

Her eyes got wide with fear, “You can’t tell anyone okay? You gotta promise.” Her hand covered yours, gripping tightly to ensure that you grasped the severity of the situation. 

You swallowed hard, honestly scared by her reactions to whatever was happening. This wasn’t like sweet, simple, calm Lenora. Nonetheless, you nodded, “I promise.” 

“I think I’m pregnant.” 

You actually choked, “What? Are you sure?” This was bad. This was so bad. 

Her eyes began to well up with guilty tears, “Yeah, I am. I was pretty sick a few weeks back. Couldn’t eat nothin’ cause I kept throwin’ up. And I haven’t had that time of the month in  two months.” 

“Two months, Lenora? Shit…” You whispered, leaning back against the hay. Even before moving to Coal Creek, you came from a small town in Pennsylvania where this had happened to a few girls. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon in that particular town. Your daddy had been a doctor before he died so you’d seen more than a few cases of teenage pregnancy. For Lenora, though, this was practically unheard of. Good Christian girls don’t have babies before marriage. “Did you tell ‘im?” 

Lenora’s breath shook, “Yeah ‘nd he said I was crazy and delusional. Just imaginin’ things. Said we never did nothin’ in the car. Then he said that I had to get rid of the baby or I’d be branded as the town whore with a bastard son. Even said it’d kill Grandma from the shame of it all if anyone found out.” 

“That is not true, Lenora. None of it. You’re not a whore and it would be best for everyone if that baby inside you was a bastard. That disgusting man isn’t fit to walk the Earth we live on, let alone be a father.” It felt like the blood was rushing through your veins with full force, internally panicking about the situation. This was a big deal and, unfortunately, you weren’t sure if Lenora was emotionally capable enough to handle it alone. She’d always been quiet and lonely and an easy target for cruel people. “Are you keepin’ it?” 

Her breathing shuddered as if she’d started crying, “I can’t kill the baby inside me and go on livin’ with that. But I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared,Y/N.” Lenora threw her arms around you and you held her as her body rattled against yours. 

“Shh, you got me, alright? Me and Arvin. And I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t be ashamed if she knew what Teagarden did to you.” You insisted but she shook her head. 

“You must think I’m stupid for believin’ that man.” She sat up wiping her eyes with her sleeve. 

“No! I do not think you’re stupid at all. That monster took advantage of you, told you things to make you believe that his dirty, lustful thoughts were vindicated by the Lord. And he’s going to fucking pay.” You were furious now as you began to stand up, unsure of exactly what you’d do but you knew you were gonna do it. 

Lenora grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, “No! Wait! Please-” 

“What’s going on here?” Arvin opened the door with a concerned face. 

Both you and Lenora jumped at his sudden intrusion but were even more nervous about what he’d heard. 

“How much did you hear?” Lenora asked her brother, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

He walked in and slammed the door shut behind him, kneeling down in front of you and his sister, “That someone took advantage of you and Y/N was gonna make ‘im pay. Now what happened? What’s going on?” 

This was one of the things that you’d always loved about Arvin. He had this protective nature over what he loved, ready to do anything to keep his loved ones safe, whether that was his sister, his girlfriend, or his grandmother. His brown eyes held so much sincerity and understanding for his younger sister but also fear for what had been done to her. 

When she didn’t respond right away, Arvin looked over to you with questioning desperate eyes but you chewed your lip, knowing that it wasn’t your secret to tell. Instead, you looked back over to Lenora sadly and nudged her slightly. 

“C-can you say? Please? I don’t wanna say it again.” Lenora begged you quietly, avoiding eye contact with Arvin. Though you could never truly know she felt, you tried to understand all the emotions that must have been running through her. 

Arvin met your eyes, begging you to tell him what had happened. “She’s pregnant. It’s that Reverend Teagarden’s baby. Said that he told her that the only way to get close to God was to show him her in the form of Adam and Eve. But now he’s saying that she’s delusional and that it’s not his.” 

Arvin’s temper flamed inside his chest. That explained the Reverend’s intense sermon about delusion this last Sunday. Nobody did this to his sister and got away with it. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking ki-” 

“Arvin please-” Lenora tried to calm him but it was a weak attempt, still trying to stay quiet so Grandma wouldn’t notice.

“No, I’ll end his life for what he did to you.” 

You watched your boyfriend reel around, hands holding onto his hat. He was livid, understandably so. 

Lenora wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to protect Preston Teagarden after what he’d done to her but she thinks it’s that she was more concerned for her brother. Besides, no matter what Teagarden had done, did he really deserve to die for it? 

“We don’t have to hurt him,” You spoke to your boyfriend, “If she wants, she can just have the baby and we’ll help raise it.” 

“But he said it’s not his and that I’ll just be considered some no-good whore. He said it’ll kill Grandma. I don’t want to kill Grandma.” She was almost crying again at the thought of their grandmother ending up six feet under because of the shame of having her as a granddaughter. 

“He said that?!” Arvin nearly yelled. 

“But what if he’s right?” Lenora thought out loud, “I couldn’t live with myself if I got rid of the baby but I can’t risk killing Grandma. Maybe it would be better if I were dead-” 

“No!” You and Arvin both said firmly in unison. You held her hand tight and Arvin knelt down again. 

He swiped his thumb comfortingly across the back of her hands, “Don’t you ever say that. We have both already lost too damn much to lose each other too, ya hear me?” 

Lenora nodded, tears falling down her cheeks when she closed her eyes. 

“Why can’t we just ruin him? You can have the baby and let everyone know what he did. Everyone will know that he’s the father and it’ll destroy his life.” Arvin suggested, all of the miserable ways this could end for the man twisting his heart in sadistic pleasure. 

You shook your head though, “No, they won’t. It’s different for girls in small towns like this. Doesn’t matter what happened, you’re still the dirty no good whore, even if you were raped. The man is treated like a victim for even having the inkling of an accusation brought up.” After a few minutes, you suggested, “Why don’t we run off. We’ll all go to a new town, somewhere where nobody knows none of us. We’ll tell ‘em that your husband died in the war, leaving you with the baby. I’ll go with. I’ll help you raise it.” 

She shook her head, “But what about Grandma and Uncle Earskell?” She did have a point. They were both getting on in age and would need more help than they already did. 

You all sat in silence for a few moments, brainstorming ideas of what to do. Eventually, Arvin looked at his sister, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

The three of you went back to the house for the rest of the night, knowing that everyone would be getting suspicious if you were out any longer. 

The three of you kept the secret quiet, barely even speaking about it to each other. You’d been doing as much research on babies in the libraries at school, which earned you quite a few disapproving looks from people who assumed that you and Arvin were expecting. You were serious when you said that you had every intention of helping Lenora and so was Arvin. 

Weeks had gone by with relatively no news. Well, that’s what the town thought at least. After finding out about what the Reverend had done to Lenora, Arvin had told you about his plan to watch him. 

The pair of you had spent several afternoons staked out near the church, watching as he went to the place of worship and then left at night. But then you started noticing a frequent visitor. Jeanette Reaster. The pair would drive off to a little secluded field and, sure enough, Teagarden would have his way with her. Though you couldn’t hear what was said, it was clear that they’d been praying beforehand before she submitted to him fully. Now, you knew Jeanette Reaster and, much like Lenora, she was the last person you’d imagine having premarital sex for the fear of being struck down by God. Whatever this man had said to them must have been real convincing. 

“Piece of shit…” Arvin leaned forward against the steering wheel of his car while you sat beside him. You both watched on as the Reverend laid the girl down and began his assault of falsely “holy” acts. 

For respect of Jeanette, you both looked away during the actual act but when you saw her ride off, Teagarden got out of his car, a bunch of fabric in his hands and sniffed them as he watched her. “That fucking perv. How does nobody know about this?” You asked, disgusted. Reaster was a good girl. She didn’t deserve this abuse. 

“We know about it.” Arvin said, putting the car in reverse, “And that’s enough.” Less than a week later, word got out that Jeanette Reaster had run off. Grandma had told Arvin and Lenora that her mother had said to her privately that Jeanette left a note saying that she was pregnant but the father refused to believe that he was the father. To spare her family the shame, she ran away and begged them to just say that they had no idea what had happened to her. That’s what her parents intended to do for their daughter’s sake but had entrusted Grandma with the secret just so they had somebody to talk to about it.

The day after she disappeared, they found her body on the side of the road just a few towns over. Nobody had any idea of what had happened except for you and Arvin. Both of you were convinced that Teagarden had murdered her to keep his secret from getting out. 

The anger that was held between you and Arvin both was unparalleled. In part, you both felt partially responsible for her death. If only you’d said something, maybe you could have saved her. But neither of you even knew she was pregnant. That monster did to her exactly what he had probably planned to do to Lenora. 

“We have to set things right.” Arvin said, sitting in his car one night with you in the woods, “That girl is dead and I can’t help but feel like it’s on me.” His head hung sadly, the weight of another death weighing on his heart. 

You shifted sideways in the seat, your jeans rubbing against the vinyl car seats. You placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, “This is not your fault. This is the evil of a wicked man.” 

“A girl is dead, Y/N. He got her pregnant and murdered her. He got Lenora pregnant and tried to convince her she was crazy. He’s taking advantage of innocent girls out here and then tying up the loose ends.” Arvin sat there, so much hurt behind his brown eyes. Then an idea dawned on him, “Do you trust me?” 

The question took you off guard and it showed but you answered honestly, “Yes.” 

** 

Perhaps being quieter in church was for the best for this particular scenario. You’d never been as religious as the rest of your family or the rest of the town, for that matter. But this morning, you found yourself on your knees by your bedside. “Lord, please forgive the things that I am about to do. Please understand that I do this with the best intentions of protecting every other girl to cross paths with Preston Teagarden and to avenge the death of Jeanette Reaster. I pray that you please forgive Arvin as well as I know he is a man with nothing but good and love in his heart. In Jesus’ holy name, amen.” 

Almost on cue, your mom knocked on the door to see you on your knees, “Arvin is out front waiting for you.” She announced with a warm smile, noticing your outfit, “You look nice, sweetie! Since when do you clean up all cute for that boy?” She teased, a loving smile on her face as you smoothed out your yellow dress that hung just below your knees. The sleeves were tight and went about halfway down your biceps. It was far from revealing with a neckline that stopped just below your collarbones but it still was tight enough to accentuate the shape of your concealed breasts. A brown belt was tied around your waist, showing off your figure. 

“Yeah, well I figured that for once I might as well dress up and do something nice.” The lie slipped out smoothly despite the racing of your heart in your chest. 

She pulled you in for a hug, “Well you tell Arvin that I want you back by nine tonight! I’ll be going over to Mrs. Hadderson’s for quilting today, just so you know, in case I’m not home when you get back.” 

You picked up your bag and pulled her into a side hug, “Alright, Mama. Love you!” You hollered, running out the door. Arvin was dressed normally, just his blue jeans and t-shirt, but he still looked great as always. 

When you slid into the passenger seat of his car, he perked up and looked over at you, “Not used to seeing you like this on any day but Sunday.” He attempted to joke but found it difficult considering what the two of you were planning on doing. 

After driving a ways down the road, he asked, “Are you sure you want to be a part of this? Because I can drop you off with Lenora and I’ll take care of this myself.” 

Looking over at him to see his eyes scanning your face for signs of hesitation, you placed your hand on his leg, “I’m not letting you do this alone.” 

Not too deep down, Arvin felt terrible for allowing you to partake in this. Death had always seemed to follow him wherever he went; he didn’t want you to be stuck with the same curse. The two of you developed a plan but Arvin had created a backup just in case you decided you didn’t want to partake, not that he would blame you. He was terrified beyond belief himself but he’d decided that for the sake of every other girl in this town and any other one’s Teagarden had harmed in the past, he had to do this. 

The only thing making him feel remotely at peace with your involvement was the fact that you weren’t actually doing the killing. You were the diversion, he was the trigger man. Arvin sighed, relenting to the fact that you were in on this, “Did you bring the rope?” He asked, eyes flicking over to you and your bag between glances at the road that moved beneath the wheels of his car. 

You dug around in your little bag and pulled out a small length of rope, a weapon chosen for the lack of clean up. “Got it. You got the gun?” 

Arvin pulled his denim jacket back just enough to show the handle of the Luger that once belonged to his father. This weapon was chosen for its reliability. Once you guys started, you had to finish otherwise he’d tell everyone. 

Before you knew it, the tires were coming to a crunching halt on the rocky sideturn just around the corner from the church. A sudden wave of nausea came over you and you had to breathe deeply to settle it down. “You okay?” Arvin asked, reaching out for you. 

You swallowed hard, “Yeah.” Sweat began to bead up on your brow as a million different images of what could happen in the next few minutes ran through your head. 

Arvin watched as you zoned out on the dashboard and he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. It was the same inner conflict he’d had this morning before picking you up, when he first pocketed the gun.  “Whatever happens today, I need you to know that I love you Y/N.” 

You sucked a quick breath in. Neither of you had ever used the L-word before. Arvin was scared to because he’d lost so many people and the fewer people he loved, that fewer people he could lose. You had just never loved anyone romantically before and were too terrified that maybe you’d say it too early or think you felt it when you really didn’t. With Arvin, though, you knew it. “I love you too, Arvin.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips deeply, wanting nothing more than to stay against his skin for the rest of your lives. But, unfortunately, there was something you had to do first. 

“Remember, just get him to bring you to the field. I will be there waiting. I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear?” Your faces were close together, so close your foreheads almost touched, as he went over the plan one last time, trying to make sure that you knew that you were safe as long as he was around. 

“I know.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was far from a grin of actual happiness.

Arvin watched as you got out of the car, leaving the small bundle of rope behind, and walked down the dirt driveway to the church. You looked just like someone that pervert would fall head over heels for. There was an innocent sway to your hips and the way you held your bag close to your body screamed insecurity, but the kind of a young girl who doesn’t know how beautiful she is. The funny thing was that this wasn’t something totally out of character for you. Sure, you had a mouth and fist that could dish as much as it could take, and yeah, you and Arvin had been together for almost half a year, but there was still a youthful innocence to you. There was still a brightness in your eyes and a pep in your step, one that hadn’t been beat down by the tragedies of life yet. It was one of the things that Arvin found most attractive about you but it was also one of the things that Preston Teagard would as well. 

The doors of the church were cracked open just slightly when you approached and you could see the Reverend sitting in the pews, reading his Bible, through the gap. Taking one less final deep breath, you pressed the door open and stepped in, the heels of your little white chucks padding against the hardwood. Teagard turned around at the sound, “Why, hello, there.” He greeted warmly. It disgusted you how this man could act no different after knowing what he’d just done but the worst monsters were human. 

“Uh, hi there, Reverend. I’m sorry to bother but I just needed to talk to you about something.” You began, accentuated your Appalachian drawl while trying to make your voice sound as young and innocent as you could. 

He patted the pew beside him, “Well, my child, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what I’m here for. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” 

Skin crawling as you walked, you forced your feet to move towards the man and sit beside him. Right away, his arm stretched behind your shoulders as he sat uncomfortably close. At first, you avoided eye contact, “Well, um, you see, I’ve been… straying from the light and I really want to get right with God.” 

This had to be the first truth you’d told anyone other than Arvin today. You felt too terrible lying in the presence of God so you’d found a way to genuinely get your feelings off your chest while still luring Teagarden into your trap. 

He rubbed his chin and hummed, “The fact that you acknowledge this means you haven’t strayed too far. God always comes back to his flock, even to those little sheepies who’ve gone astray. Why don’t you tell me more.” He urged. 

Your hands squeezed the strap of your bag tightly, “I… I have lustful thoughts sometimes.” 

Preston was lucky he’d had a lot of practice concealing his emotions because he’d be lying if he said that those words didn’t stir something in him, “Now are these just thoughts or have you acted on them?” 

“Oh, just thoughts, Reverend. I’ve never acted on any of them.” You reassured, finally meeting his eyes. They seemed to look at you with such understanding that you could see why Lenora and Jeanette had fallen for him. 

He nodded in approval, “And who are these thoughts about?” 

This was where you’d have to do a bit more lying, “I don’t really want to say.” You blushed bright red. You knew that Preston must have taken this as a sign that it was about him but it wasn’t. Your dirty thoughts never strayed from Arvin. 

Preston looked away and then back down at you, “You’re going with that Russel boy, right?” 

Silently, you nodded, not wanting to incriminate your boyfriend too much in this process of confession. 

“Has he ever touched you?” Preston pressed, his body getting closer to yours inch by inch until your legs were nearly touching. 

The red in your cheeks wasn’t part of the act anymore but genuine. You shook your head, “No, never.” You felt almost panicked at the question. 

“Have you ever touched yourself to these thoughts?” His voice became slower, more cautious as his inquiries got riskier and riskier. 

You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him anymore and looked back down at your shoes instead, just shaking your head, “No, I feel too weird. Like it’s a violation or somethin’.” 

Preston looked away, as if considering something, before turning back to you, “Can I show you some place? I find it helps me feel closer to God when I feel like I’m goin’ astray. Perhaps I could help.” 

Hook and sink. He’d fallen right into the trap. With a shy nod, you agreed sweetly, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that. Is it far?” 

Teagard shook his head, “Oh no, not too far at all. But I’ll drive so we don’t have to walk.” 

Getting him to drive you to the spot was just as easy as you imagined it would be. With a quick glance in the rear view mirror, you noticed a car in the far distance behind you that you immediately recognized as Arvin following. Preston’s car came to a stop in the same field you’d seen him take Jeanette Reaster to a few weeks ago, facing the woods ahead. 

It really was quite peaceful and would have been a pretty sight if you weren’t with a sexual predator. Again, his arm slid around your shoulders and you breathed in deeply, the intense sexual tension making you uncomfortable even though you had every intention of finishing him off before he even got a hand up your skirt. 

“You said that Russel boy has never touched you. Have you ever shown him yourself?” The fact that this man had the nerve to ask you such questions disgusted you beyond belief but you kept up the facade. 

“Like naked?” You clarified, seeing him nod, “No, not naked. We went to the lake one time so he saw me in my bathing suit then but that’s not exactly the same thing.” 

Preston chuckled at your naivety, “No, no, not the same thing at all. You know how you’re supposed to save yourself for marriage to be right with the Lord. But there is nothing that brings you closer back to our heavenly father than to be as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, the garden of pure paradise.” 

“How is that so?” You cranked up the childlike inquisitive nature as you looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

Preston had to fight the urge to take you here and now, looking at you like this, but he remained strong for the sake of the process. “They were made in his image. We all were but they were his original children. The pure, unaltered image of God himself, before the sin of man tainted it all. By showing yourself in your pure, unaltered image, you bring yourself closer to the light.” 

Your brows furrowed, “But didn’t you just say that premarital sex is a sin?” This may have been jeopardizing your mission but you felt inclined to point out the hypocrisy before you offed the man. 

He nodded, chest falling and rising with a heavy sigh, “It depends on who you’re with. I’m a man of God myself and I like to model myself after Jesus. I’d like to think that makes me an extension of His love and power and therefore an outlet for you to feel safe to do whatever you need to do in order to be right with Him.” 

With a shaky breath, you bit your lip, “Alright. H-how do I-?”

Preston watched as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt and let his mind wander to what else those fingers might be good at. “First, let us pray.” He reached over and held your hand, “Lord, Y/N is showing herself to you. See her Lord, as you made her. She presents herself to you. Give her strength. Amen.” 

“Amen.” You muttered after him, your fingers slowly going to unbutton your dress. This wasn’t how you’d imagined the first time a boy seeing you in your knickers going. In your mind, it had always been on a nice romantic evening with Arvin and a selfish part of you wanted it to stay that way but then you remembered why you were doing what you were doing and sucked down the reservations. At least you weren’t actually losing your virginity to the monster. 

Nervous fingers fuddled with the button for just a moment too long and Teagarden twisted sideways, hands coming to cover yours, “May I?” He offered his assistance. 

Your heart thumped so loud you could hear it but you nodded silently, letting your fingers fall onto your thighs. With deftly skilled fingers, he had your blouse unbuttoned before long and had pushed it off your shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat at this much exposure, your breasts just barely concealed under only the fabric of your bra. Lord, you prayed silently, please let this be over with quickly. 

Your eyes slid closed, trying to imagine that it was Arvin touching you instead of Preston Teagarden but then the mere thought of comparing the two made you sick to your stomach. They were nothing alike. 

A set of chapped lips kissed your forehead gently, then your cheek, and then, finally, your lips. At first, you drew back, but still kept your eyes closed, trying to mask the disgust with untouched hesitance. You forced your body to relax again and Preston took that as a cue to continue with what he was doing, his lips returning to yours. 

Wasting no time, he’d crawled over you until your back was flush against the seat. You placed your hands awkwardly and haphazardly on Preston’s shoulder’s, trying to feign inexperienced confusion. You and Arvin may not have ever gone all the way, but you’d at least gone this far. 

Preston’s lips moved down your neck and your breath got caught in your throat. As much as you hated it, he knew what he was doing. This man knew all the right buttons to push to make a nervous girl submit to his every desire and, though you were well aware of the game he was playing and had zero attraction to him, the physical reactions were almost impossible to stop. Your body shuddered when his stubble, something Arvin lacked, scratched the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes were open wide now, just waiting for your boyfriend to finally show up and save you from this situation. 

Arvin approached the car and slowly and quietly as he could. The windows were up so it wasn’t too big an issue as long as he wasn’t clanging metal but he figured he didn’t want to take any chances. When approached the driver’s window, his heart wrenched and he immediately regretted putting you in this position. 

Preston was on top of you, his hands roaming all around your semi-exposed chest. He knew that you’d never been exposed like that to anyone before and he suddenly felt sick with himself for allowing the first time to be with anyone beside him, let alone Preston fucking Teagard. 

He expected to have to psych himself up for the actual kill, to have to convince himself to do it but when you locked eyes with him, a silent plea to get the man off of you, it came unnervingly natural. With the rope already wrapped around both of his fists, Arvin reached for the handle and threw the door open, looping the rope around Preston’s neck and dragging him back out of the car. Preston’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, “What the fuck?!” He hollered in fear, the words turning to gagging and choking. His hands grasped at the rope but Arvin had it pulled too tightly. 

Preston’s body was kicking against the grass but his neck and head were pressed against Arvin’s chest, who was kneeling in the field. 

“You really thought you could get away with what you did to my Lenora? To that poor Reaster girl you murdered? And then I bet you were willing to do the same to her over there too, huh?” He seethed, notioning over to you with a flick of his chin. 

The reverend tried to say something, anything to defend himself or get himself out of this situation but Arvin never let up so the words came out as disgustingly graphic chokes. You crawled out of the car, not knowing what you could do to help or secure the situation but feeling useless now. 

In a few minutes time, his lips had turned blue and the thrashing of his body had stopped. Arvin finally let up and the body slump into the grass. He crawled back and away from the man who had only moments ago been all over you, touching you. 

That was when he remembered that you were there still. He’d gotten so blinded by rage that he almost blacked out, caught up in the task at hand. But when he looked up, his heart began to beat again and he stood up, rushing to you, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

Your face was pale and blank, almost as if you were in shock. Your top was still totally unbuttoned, white modest bra still exposed to the world but you didn’t look like you cared at all. If Arvin was being honest, this wasn’t how he’d pictured seeing you topless for the first time going. He always hoped it would be romantic and with more than enough time to compliment every inch of your perfect body. Instead, you looked scared and shocked and almost like you could be sick. 

“Y/N?” He urged, coming stand between you and Preston’s body, attempting to break your view of it. He reached down and began to re-button your blouse for you. 

“I’m fine,” You said flatly, only moving to look up at him, “Are you okay?” 

With a glance down at his knuckles, the rope burn was clear to see, but Arvin had been through much worse, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry that I let him do that. This whole idea was stupid and now-” 

“No,” You interrupted, finally snapping out of your shocked state and bringing your hands up to rest on his, which were on your chest now, “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

Arvin didn’t actually feel remorse for killing the man. The only thing he wanted was to take you back home, or rather far away, where there weren’t any reminders of today’s events. He wanted to show you how special you were, how much he loved you, and how brave he thought you were for being willing to be Teagarden’s last victim for the better good of the world. 

[cvtqr]

365

pairings; eren jaeger x reader [+ jean x reader]

notes; this was also posted on my ao3, which has the same username as this one [cvtqr]

“i never loved you y/n.” 

“WHAT DON’T YOU GET? I NEVER LOVED YOU SO STOP COMING HERE Y/N.” 

he slammed the door in your face. you didn't know why he was treating you this way. you've been with him every step of the road. there was no way he couldn't love you. you didn't want to leave. you didn't want to stop coming to see him. so you didn't stop. you weren't going to leave. you sunk down onto the concrete in front of his door.

on the other side eren was doing the same thing, just sitting against the door. he didn't want to see you. he didn't want to give into you. if he hurt you now he wouldn't hurt you in 365 days. but seeing your face was so hard. he never wanted to scream at you and slam the door in your face. right when you showed up the only thing he wanted to do was pull you into his arms. he wanted to feel your warmth. but he can't. he knew you were like a drug, he couldn't get enough. he also knew that he could never be with you again. no. not after 365 days. he could never give you a family, the life you deserved. his biggest mistake was falling in love with you. it was impossible to give you everything he wanted to. he never even knew when it happened. when you walked with him in the snow during training? when you saved him countless times? your soft, sweet smile? he needed you, but you didn't need him.

you ended up falling asleep on eren’s front porch, waking up the next morning from the bright sun shining directly onto your face. and the blonde boy standing in front of you.

“so he won't talk to you either hm? you should go, you don't deserve that y/n. he hasn't talked to anyone in days, im just leaving a bag for him to make sure he's taking care of himself and all.” 

you nodded and stood up, walking down the step on eren’s porch. 

“the captain wants to see you too. i think he wants you and jean doing field work today.”

“thanks” you mumbled out before going to meet up with levi. 

armin was right, you and jean were out on the field today. jean secretly cared about you and he hated seeing you like this. the bright cheerful girl, now not saying a word. you lost the glow in your eyes. as the sun set, you and jean were about done. riding your horses back to the stables, jean took a turn.

“where are you going.”

“come on, y/n.”

sighing, you turned the direction of your horse, following jean.  

he stopped over the lake, the sun setting above you two.

“i used to come here with marco all the time.”

you looked up and over at jean.

“s-sorry, lets go.”

“wait jean.- i, i miss him too.”

“do you maybe wanna get dinner in town? we haven't ate in awhile and you seem very down today.”

“i don't know jean...”

“oh come on, my treat.”

knowing you couldn't go home and cook with eren like you used to do, you accepted his offer. 

279 days

the time for you and jean to do field work all day came around again. after, you found yourself in town with him again. over the past 86 days you found yourself going to eren’s less and less. after hanging out with jean all day for the first time, you realized that you both had a lot in common. jean lost someone and even though eren was still here, you lost him. you now only go there about once a week with armin, just to leave a bag with a note on his doorstep. he completely ghosted everyone. he hasn't talked to anyone in almost 100 days. you were the last person he spoke to. 

back to today, you found your smile slowly coming back. but were you over eren? no. not at all. jean just simply made you somewhat happy. out in town the both of you decided to try food from a bunch of carts. that was until you got to a small band playing music. jean pulled you close to him and started slowly swaying the both of you together. jean knew you were probably wishing he was eren, but that was ok with him. he had you in his arms.

what you didn't know, eren was sitting on a nearby bench. from a far, he was un recognizable. his hair draped over his shoulders and he hasn't shaved in months. he looked like shit. he questioned his decision of pushing everyone away. should he have spent the 365 days with you? no. no no no no no, he made the right choice. now he would just have to watch your life with jean. even though it hurt, it hurt like hell, this is what he wanted for you.

123 days 

wow, its been awhile since you've seen eren. you stopped going there. you didn't feel like need. its been way over 200 days. you had jean now. you were so close, yet so far to being over eren. but you didn't want to hurt jean by going to see your ex-lover. jean didn't bring up marco, you didn't bring up eren. you haven't had as much time with jean that you had with eren, but you were slowly falling in love with him.

just the little things.

4 days

letters. eren had written a letter to each and every one of his friends, but no. he only needed you to see yours. he ripped up the rest, but put yours into a plain white envelope, leaving it on his kitchen table. he needed to think about a lot of things in the next four days.

1 day 

eren took all his decorations down. all the pictures of you two that he's been looking at for the past 364 days. the only thing left was the letter, still set on his counter.

2 days after 

y/n. open in five years. i understand if you want to throw this out and forget about me, but give it a chance.

that's what you read on the envelope left on eren’s counter. 

you and close friends cleaned out eren’s house, collecting his personal belongings.  

saying the day was gloomy is being generous. the next few years were gloomy.

1825 days after

“marco kirstein! get back here right now or im getting your father.” 

you never imagined yourself chasing after a three year old toddler while your husband drank coffee on the balcony five years later. 

1826 days later

“have fun on your camping trip boys. connie loose my child when jean goes on that interview and ill kill you.”

“mommy stop worrying! uncle connie is a great babysitter!” 

6 hours later

you un crumpled the old envelope sitting in a box of belongings. 

hey sugar! so i see you didn't forget about me. if im right you have started a family? or that's what i hope at least...

those last 365 days were painful as all hell. sorry for bringing up old memories but i just want to clear things up with you. i lied the last time i saw you. i love you. i loved you so much. that's why i needed to let go. I've been watching you and jean over the past few months. you seem happy. stay that way please. i fucking cannot stand jean but please don't let go of him. if you're reading this and you did, i hope your children get/got your genes so they don't have horse faces. 

i don't even know why im writing this, i guess i just wanted to say i had to let go so you wouldn't get hurt once i died. i thought it would be less painful for you that way. im so sorry if i hurt you at first. so, so sorry. at least you had jean. someone, just like i wanted you too. 

im not sure if i regret my decision. actually scrap that i shouldn't have wrote that because i don't have an eraser. i don't regret it. but i just wanted to let you know that i loved you over those last 365 days. tell the gang i said hey.

i love you, my atlantis.

-eren