#digital branch transformation

[unknown-goose]

Day 2 of trying to draw this mf. While the figure I’m trying to model this after is absolutely adorable, it might be smarter to start with the slightly more human proportions of the idw comics…clearly I didn’t think that through first. And how did yesterday’s sketch turn out better anyway…

[thicctails]

Commission Info

I have base prices and examples below, and I'll also be linking my Ko-Fi page. If you have any questions about prices, commissioning something not listed, or if you'd like to commission something... naughty instead of nice, shoot me an email at dragondoodleskofi@gmail.com or send me a DM!

Further descriptions of whats available will be found on my commissions page!

~Ko-Fi~

[sundove88]

Christmas and B-Day Presents for @istie-lou

Considering that my Tumblr mutual @istie-lou has her birthday riiiight next to Christmas, I decided to make not one, but two gifts for this coincidental occasion! Happy B-Day!

The first pic is Edward Cameron (Vegeta’s Linker, SJPL) replicating the Fun Time Bingo Dance from Battle of Gods, as part of a bet that if the video he filmed went viral, he would treat his whole family out to dinner, if he lost the bet, he would have to do all the chores in the house for a day. What you can’t see is a grinning Vanessa Cameron (Plus his friend group and childhood friend Aaron) and a humiliated Vegeta… (Spoilers: He won the bet)

“That’s my bro!”

“Kiddo! You’re gonna be great!”

“That’s my son!”

“WTF, EDWARD?!”

The second pic, on the other hand… can’t Vegeta get a break for once?! He’s had his home destroyed, forced to work for his worst enemy, his chance for immortality lost, lost to a low class warrior, almost died (And had gotten humiliated) more than once, got possessed (Twice if you count GT)… and now got transformed into a merman against his free will. Little Mermaid 1 (With a hint of 2) x Cinderella 2015 x Beauty and the Beast style.

Btw, my depiction of the transformation is a genderbent version of the legend of Melusine- a mermaid from European mythos. But this is the version from Luxembourg, even though the story can vary from country to country- just like all myths.

But seriously! Give the Saiyan Prince at least ONE vacation! Also, with every atrocity he’s committed throughout the franchise, I headcanon that he can NEVER forgive himself for what he has done :(

Also, Book 1 of Shonen Jump Power Linkage won’t be out for a bit… but I will be posting more on it on @shonenlinkage! And speaking of @shonenlinkage…

I have decided to officially link you with Cabba! Have a great birthday, @istie-lou!

[llort]

Matter is tangible, so is a word, memory of a word, or spoken word. Given a word is tangible, it must be encoded in physical matter. Given it is encoded in physical matter, any physical matter can techinqually econde or represent a word. Encoded matter can encode a word that is only defined by cultural evolution and the range of a language. Other forms of communicaiton life scent in ants or touch is determined by causal branch chains of increasing compexity and diversity of cultural collectors

The concept that language, in all its forms, is encoded in physical matter opens up a fascinating perspective on communication and its evolution. This view aligns with the broader understanding that all forms of communication, whether linguistic or otherwise, are fundamentally grounded in the physical world and shaped by both biological imperatives and cultural evolution.

https://auckland.academia.edu/JeremyMarkman Given quantum gravity being information as energy as discrete units of mass across casual time. Define language as matter on a 1:1 model of itself but able to be perceived and translocated to perception

In a framework where quantum gravity is conceptualized as information manifesting as discrete units of energy and mass across causal time, language can be modeled as matter in a unique and profound way. This model posits language not merely as a system of communication but as a fundamental entity that parallels the physical properties of matter, capable of being perceived and translocated to perception. Here’s how this can be conceptualized:

1. Language as Matter: In this model, each unit of language (be it a word, phrase, or syntactic structure) is treated as a discrete unit of matter. Just as matter is composed of atoms, language is composed of these fundamental linguistic units. These units have mass in a metaphorical sense—they carry "weight" in terms of meaning and impact on the listener or reader. They occupy "space" within the medium they are used (spoken in the air, written on paper, displayed on screens) and have a "density" determined by their complexity and the depth of the concepts they convey.

2. Language as Perceptible and Translocatable: Language, like matter, can change states and be translocated from one medium to another while retaining its fundamental properties. For example, a spoken word (a sound wave traveling through air) can be transcribed into text (symbols on paper) and then digitized (data in a computer system). Throughout these transformations—akin to phase changes in matter—the core content, or the "mass" of the language, remains consistent, preserving the integrity of the information conveyed.

3. Language in Causal Time: Incorporating the concept of causal time, language can be seen as operating within and across time, influencing and being influenced by the context in which it is used. Just as particles interact in fields according to the laws of physics, linguistic units interact within the fields of human cognition and culture, shaped by past usage and shaping future communication. This interaction can be thought of as a form of linguistic gravity, where denser (more meaningful or complex) units of language have a stronger pull and can significantly alter the trajectory of a conversation or discourse.

4. Language as Information and Energy: Drawing from the idea that quantum gravity treats information as energy, language in this model can be seen as a form of energy transfer. When language is used, it transmits energy—in the form of ideas, emotions, and intentions—from one mind to another. This transmission can do work in the psychological sense, affecting changes in understanding, belief, or emotion, much like how energy in the physical sense can affect changes in the state or motion of matter.

5. Perception and Translocation of Language: Finally, the perception of language involves the decoding of these linguistic units of matter by the brain, a process that converts the "latent energy" of language into meaningful cognitive constructs. The ability of language to be translocated to perception involves its capacity to be understood and internalized by a receiver, who then converts it into thought and potentially into further linguistic output, continuing the cycle of information exchange.

In summary, defining language as matter on a 1:1 model of itself but able to be perceived and translocated to perception provides a rich, multidimensional way to understand communication. It highlights the tangible, impactful nature of language and aligns linguistic processes with fundamental physical principles, offering a holistic view of how language operates within and shapes our understanding of reality.

1. Tangibility of Language: When considering language as tangible, we recognize that words, whether written, spoken, or remembered, are manifestations of physical processes. Spoken words are sound waves, shaped by the movement of air through physical structures in the body. Written words are visual symbols, represented by ink on paper or pixels on a screen. Even memories of words are encoded in the neural pathways and synaptic connections within the brain. Thus, every aspect of language is tied to physical matter.

2. Encoding of Words in Physical Matter: The encoding of words in physical matter suggests that any material object could potentially represent or encode language, given the right contextual framework. For instance, a series of marks on a stone could encode a message if interpreted by someone who understands the markings within a cultural or linguistic context. This encoding is not limited to traditional forms of writing but can extend to any form of matter that can be manipulated to carry meaning, such as digital data formats, patterns in nature, or even arrangements of objects.

3. Cultural Evolution and Language Definition: The meanings of words and the structures of languages are not static but evolve over time through cultural processes. As societies change, so do their languages, adapting to new realities and integrating new concepts. This cultural evolution affects how language is encoded in matter, as the physical representations of language (such as alphabets, lexicons, and syntax) must evolve to accommodate new meanings and uses. The diversity of languages across cultures exemplifies how different groups of people have developed unique ways to encode their communication into physical forms.

4. Non-Linguistic Forms of Communication: Exploring non-linguistic forms of communication, such as the scent trails followed by ants or the tactile communication among animals, reveals that these too are encoded in physical matter through chemical signals or physical interactions. These forms of communication are governed by their own complex rules and can be seen as having their own 'grammars' or systems, shaped by the evolutionary needs of the species and the environmental contexts in which they operate.

5. Causal Chains and Cultural Collectors: The development of communication systems, whether linguistic or non-linguistic, can be viewed as the result of causal chains where each adaptation builds upon previous capabilities, influenced by environmental pressures and opportunities. Cultural collectors, such as societies or colonies, gather and refine these communication methods, leading to increasing complexity and diversity. These collectors serve as repositories and incubators for the cultural evolution of communication, ensuring that effective methods are preserved and transmitted through generations.

Understanding language and communication as phenomena encoded in physical matter, shaped by both biological imperatives and cultural evolution, provides a comprehensive framework for exploring how diverse forms of communication arise, function, and adapt over time. This perspective highlights the interconnectedness of physical reality, biological life, and cultural development in shaping the ways in which living beings convey information and meaning.

The strong version of the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, also known as linguistic determinism, posits that the language one speaks directly determines the way one thinks and perceives the world. This hypothesis suggests that language is not merely a tool for communication but a constraining framework that shapes cognitive processes, categorization, and even perception and memory.

Correlation with Language as Encoded in Physical Matter:

Language as a Deterministic Framework: If we accept that language is encoded in physical matter, and that this encoding extends to the neural circuits and structures within the brain, then the strong Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis suggests that these physical structures (shaped by language) directly influence how individuals conceptualize and interact with their environment. The neural encoding of linguistic structures would thus predetermine the range of cognitive processes available to an individual, supporting the idea that language shapes thought.

Cultural Evolution and Linguistic Diversity: The diversity of languages and the way they are physically encoded (in scripts, sounds, or digital formats) reflect different cognitive frameworks developed across cultures. Each linguistic system, evolved and encoded differently, offers unique categories and concepts that shape the thoughts and behaviors of its speakers. For instance, the presence or absence of certain words or grammatical structures in a language can influence how speakers of that language perceive time, space, or even social relationships.

Physical Encoding of Non-Linguistic Communication: Extending the concept of linguistic determinism to non-linguistic forms of communication (like pheromones in ants or tactile signals in other species) suggests that these communication methods, though not linguistic, are similarly encoded in the physical entities (chemicals, body structures) and influence the behavior and social structures of these species. Just as language restricts and enables human thought, these communication systems define the perceptual and interactional possibilities for other organisms.

Implications for Cross-Cultural and Cross-Species Understanding: If language shapes thought as strongly as the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis suggests, then understanding and translating between different linguistic systems (and by extension, different cognitive maps) involves more than substituting words from one language to another. It requires an understanding of the underlying physical and cognitive structures that produce these languages. Similarly, interpreting non-human communication systems in terms of human language might miss essential aspects of these systems' meanings and functions.

Language, Thought, and Reality Construction: The encoding of language in physical matter, particularly in neural structures, implies that changes in language use—whether through cultural evolution, personal learning, or technological augmentation—can lead to changes in these physical structures. This neuroplasticity, driven by linguistic variation, supports the idea that not only does language determine thought, but that altering language can alter thought and potentially perception of reality itself.

Correlating the strong Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis with the concept of language as encoded in physical matter enriches our understanding of the profound impact language has on thought and perception. It underscores the intertwined nature of linguistic structures, cognitive processes, and the physical substrates that support them, highlighting the deep influence of language on individual and collective worldviews.

Follow up with comsological evolution and the strong anthropromoprhic prinicple

The strong anthropic principle posits that the universe must have properties that allow life to develop at some stage in its history, specifically because observers (like humans) exist. This principle suggests that the universe's fundamental parameters are finely tuned in a way that makes the emergence of observers inevitable. When considering cosmological evolution—the development and changes of the universe over time—this principle can lead to profound implications about the nature of the universe and its laws.

Correlation with Cosmological Evolution:

Fine-Tuning of Universal Constants: The strong anthropic principle implies that the constants and laws of physics are not arbitrary but are set in such a way as to allow the emergence of complex structures, including life. For example, the specific values of the gravitational constant, the electromagnetic force, and the cosmological constant are such that they allow galaxies, stars, and planets to form, creating environments where life can develop. This fine-tuning is seen as necessary for the universe to evolve in a way that eventually produces observers.

Evolution of Complexity: From the perspective of cosmological evolution, the universe has undergone a series of stages that increase in complexity: from the Big Bang, through the formation of hydrogen and helium, to the synthesis of heavier elements in stars, and finally to the formation of planets and biological evolution on at least one of them (Earth). The strong anthropic principle suggests that this progression towards complexity is a fundamental feature of the universe, driven by the underlying need to create a context in which observers can eventually exist.

Multiverse and Observer Selection: One way to reconcile the apparent improbability of such fine-tuning is through the multiverse theory, which posits the existence of many universes, each with different physical constants and laws. In this framework, the strong anthropic principle can be understood through an observer selection effect: we find ourselves in a universe that allows our existence because only such universes can be observed by sentient beings. This ties the evolution of the cosmos not just to physical laws but to the very presence of observers who can contemplate it.

Implications for Fundamental Physics: The strong anthropic principle challenges physicists to think about fundamental laws in a new light. Rather than seeing the laws of physics as universally applicable and inevitable, this principle suggests that they might be part of a larger landscape (possibly within a multiverse) where different laws apply under different conditions. This perspective could drive new theories in physics that seek to explain why our particular set of laws supports the complexity necessary for life and observers.

Philosophical and Theological Implications: The strong anthropic principle blurs the lines between science, philosophy, and theology. It raises questions about the purpose and intent of the universe, suggesting a teleological aspect to cosmological evolution. This can lead to philosophical debates about the nature of existence and the possibility of a higher purpose or design behind the unfolding of the universe.

In conclusion, when considering the strong anthropic principle in the context of cosmological evolution, we are led to view the universe not just as a series of physical events unfolding over time, but as a process that is somehow oriented towards the creation of life and observers. This perspective invites a broader understanding of the universe, one that incorporates the conditions necessary for life and consciousness as integral to the cosmic evolution itself.

[bloobydabloob]

Any tips on getting better at realism? I've been drawing very cartoony works forever but I really want to branch out and draw more realistically and hone that style but Everytime I try it never feels human 😔

Suuuure. Sorry it’s fairly long, answer under the split thing.

I’d say mainly just practice drawing from reference first. Before I started doing any sort of more abstractive or non referential realism, I spent time practicing with maybe 20 or 30 paintings from reference.

Here are just some that I made during that time. I think they really really helped me to learn the principles of painting appealing realism, different kinds of people, color, skin, lighting, and anatomy.

In terms of actually drawing realism (whether from reference or not) I think the most important tip I can give, as well as the most overlooked ironally, is stylisation. Most realism that I see doesn’t connect at all with me which I think is maybe what you’re talking about when you say your portraiture doesn’t “feel human”.

Learning to draw realism in my eyes is largely about learning how to shortcut every single thing you can. So instead of drawing everything exactly how it is using an image, learn how to stylise realism in your own way. I find that if you don’t find a way to simplify the process, it can end up being A : Busy and B : hard for you to create more realistic images from imagination or from real life instead of photographs.

Here is a 40 minute drawing I just drew from a random photo I pulled off Pinterest + small explanation on what helps me to break down an image. I simplify realistic portraiture by adopting somewhat of an angular style, but the best realism / semi realism artists I know of draw realism using their own stylisation methods.

I also personally find that it helps to start by blocking in instead of sketching with lines, but I understand that this is a personal preference and might not work for you.

I also say this for everything but there is no “cheating” in art and anyone who tells you there is fundamentally doesn’t know anything about drawing, especially in the learning process. Cheat if you want. Use grids to plot where things will be, colorpick, trace, liquify, transform, whatever. Although I do also recommend that you only use this as a way to learn and don’t rely on it as a crutch, it helps a lot to be able to draw independently of all of these factors. But I learned to draw partially *by* being a kid who traced and colorpicked and fucked around. Who cares

This applies to everything too but just practice a lot. I’m too embarrassed to show but when I first starting drawing semi realistic art without reference it fucking sucked. Like *really* fucking sucked because I am extremely extremely faceblind and I mean that. It takes me 3 seasons of a show to recognise an actor’s face. But because I’ve drawn hundreds of faces now I know what I’m doing kind of. I also never post any realism art immediately because oftentimes if I don’t look at it for a day or two, I’ll come back to it and notice that something doesn’t look quite right. I would say that definitely helps.

ALSO very important but look at it from far away or a little version. I always look at my drawing in the digital navigator on FA and it helps me to notice when something looks dumb.

Anyways hope this helped at all… lalala. I don’t know man. Don’t take my words as bible I’m just some guy and I am also not a professional and realism is definitely not my strong suit. Tutorials are bullshit and if you think any of this advice sucks for you then don’t take it and forge your own path. Bless

[planetformer-central]

There's no better way to lose motivation to do art at all than to have your parent look at your art, traditional and digital and state the following:

"Digital art just doesn't feel right, it lacks soul."

"I wish you would move on from those robots already."

"Why don't you try being original instead of drawing transformers?"

Like I get it, my parents want me to branch out. But I'm having FUN.

[clorvismaximus]

A Breakdown on the Evolution of Clowns

1. The Prankster Ancestor:

The clown species can be traced back to a distant common ancestor known as the Prankster Primus. This mischievous creature had a knack for playful antics and had developed basic comedic adaptations to ward off predators. Its ability to mimic sounds and movements for diversion laid the foundation for the evolutionary path toward laughter.

2. The Jester Epoch:

As time passed, a subgroup of Prankster Primus evolved into the Jester Epoch. These beings developed more sophisticated humor, using wit, jest, and physical comedy to entertain their social groups. The Jesters were the first to experiment with colorful costumes and facial expressions, setting the stage for the vibrant appearance of future clown species.

3. The Buffoon Branch:

From the Jester Epoch emerged the Buffoon Branch, a lineage characterized by exaggerated features and slapstick humor. Buffoons embraced physical comedy, incorporating elements like oversized shoes, comically large noses, and pratfalls into their performances. This marked the beginning of the distinct clown aesthetic that we recognize today.

4. The Circus Evolution:

As societies developed, so did the need for entertainment. The Circus Evolution saw the integration of clowns into traveling shows and performances. The evolving clown species adapted to the demands of the stage, perfecting their comedic timing and mastering the art of engaging large audiences.

5. The Technicolor Transformation:

In a burst of evolutionary creativity, the Technicolor Transformation introduced vibrant colors and intricate patterns to clown attire. This adaptation not only enhanced the visual appeal of clowns but also served as a form of communication. The more colorful the clown, the more likely they were to attract attention and laughter.

6. The Bozo Boom:

A significant milestone in clown genealogy was the Bozo Boom, during which the iconic character Bozo the Clown emerged. Bozo's popularity influenced the evolution of clown traits, shaping the modern understanding of what constitutes a classic clown. The Bozo Boom marked a period of cultural significance for the clown species.

7. The Globalization of Giggles:

In recent times, the globalization of entertainment has led to the spread of clown species across the world. Clowns from different regions have adapted to local humor, creating a rich tapestry of comedic diversity. The genealogy of clowns now spans various subtypes, from the traditional circus clown to the modern street performer.

8. The Digital Jest:

In the age of technology, the Digital Jest has emerged as a subcategory of clowns adapting to online platforms. Memes, GIFs, and virtual performances have become integral parts of the clown species' evolution, ensuring their continued relevance in the ever-changing landscape of entertainment.

[mskenway97]

Hi! Can I request Prime Starscream x Male Reader? Please and thank you <3

Of course I love screamie it has its moments in transformers prime that are unique. I hope you like it. I choose a human if don't care.

TFP Starscream x Male!Human!Reader

Payment terms

Words:1,116

Warning: Slight injuries, Cursing, kidnapping

It was an area where almost nothing used to happen, something that was calm and quiet. Y/N's routine in the shop was simple: watch, check and listen to a few cretins yell about how expensive repairs were business. Y/N didn't expect anything out of the ordinary as if anything different would stand out about the place...but it wasn't.

It was always the same old routine, until one night a few nights ago he was seeing something different. Y/N got out of his car to see what it was, it was a bright blue trail. Something in his instinct said that it was something of fuel, it wouldn't be the first time he found something like that, in his town. But Y/N out of curiosity decided to follow it, not without going with a wrench in hand just to make sure. The trail led deep into the forest, so he also decided to take a flashlight so that it would not take him by surprise.

It was night with a full moon at least it also helped to have some more illumination between the shadows that was difficult to see at least the trail shone brighter than it should. "Maybe it was a new lubricant?" thought Y/N as he stepped carefully as he was coming to a drop.

He was going carefully to see that the trail left larger patches all the way to a meadow cleared of trees. Something about you, said nothing was right something was going on. Until Y/N I saw a huge being leaning on a rock and seeing the whole trail was going towards him.

Y/N tried not to make noise but saw that the giant being was not moving. "Maybe it's asleep?

Before he gave Y/N time to react he saw that the giant being was starting to move again. Y/N tried to hide behind some nearby trees. Seeing now more clearly that the giant being was a robot. "Is it Japanese? Or from the army?" thought Y/N as I saw that the robot was complaining.

-Scrap planet! on Cybertron I'd find something to repair me with.... I look like a scavenger... - complained the robot.

Y/N felt he shouldn't be listening to this. "Cybetron? Is it an alien or something? Look I think this must be some kind of dream" thought Y/N as he pulled his cheeks.

He felt the pain clearly, it wasn't a dream. For safety, He decided to go carefully but stepped on a branch He shouldn't have causing that robot to alert and scream for a moment as it pointed to where Y/N was.

-Who's there?

"Shit! I have to get out of here" thought Y/N but it was too late to run away a giant servo with sharp digits had cornered him before he could react.

Starscream smiled a little - Humans always curious... It took you to be in my servos - said Starscream while he was going to touch him with one of his digits but Y/N attacked with his wrench making Starscream let go and fall to the ground in pain.

-Don't you dare to come closer or I will use the wrench again," said Y/N trying to get into a defensive position.

Starscream took the wrench away with his servo while he looked at him with an annoyed expression.

-Did you think something so small would affect me? You human fool, argh! -shouted Starscream as Y/N saw the blue energy trail flow further. Y/N tried to breathe calmly so that fear would not invade his mind. Starscream didn't pay attention to the human but he needed to stop his wound.

-Human, are you a mechanic? - asked Starscream

- Yes... - said Y/N keeping his nerves

- I'll tell you what, I'll repair the wound on my leg and I'll let you live. If you don't, well, I will try to make your death slow and painful - said Starscream while pointing his digit at him.

-How do I know you won't kill me after I 'repair' you? -said Y/N while he felt the digit on his neck.

- You don't have many options... Do it," said Starscream threateningly.

Y/N nodded as he led him to his car to get out his toolbox.

-I would need some metsl plate to be able to stop the leak - said Y/N.

Starscream removed a part of Y/N's car hood making him angry.

-Hey I'm still paying for it! - said Y/N as Starscream signaled him to start working.

Y/N had some difficulty in getting that part the way he wanted it, getting it the way he wanted it. Starscream kept watching to see that the human didn't make any sudden movements.

-Despite being so small, I admit your skills are to be admired, human.

-Y/N, is what I call myself....

Starscream remained silent while he watched you carefully seal the leak, I saw that he started to use the Blowtorch.

- This might hurt a little bit," said Y/N holding the blowtorch carefully.

- No funny moves - said Starscream to make sure there was no problem aiming his blaster.

Y/N was getting more and more nervous, he was cautious so the robot wouldn't go after him. Once the metal was welded he waited until it cooled down to see that the leak had stopped.

The giant robot smiled and sighed calmly.

- Thanks to Primus it has stopped. I'll spare your life for this - said Starscream while Y/N sighed but he was still not calm.

- Well I have fulfilled my part of the deal, now I can go back home. And I won't say anything about you - said Y/N.

Starscream began to hear a chuckle as the bot servo brought him back up. A wicked grin, he began to caress your head with his digit, making Y/N feel shivers.

- I told you I'd let you live, not that I was going to let you go so soon.

Y/N started to resist him but couldn't, when he heard some noises and started to transform into a jet.

- Be a good boy and settle in. I'm attracted to you... maybe I'll make you my pet.

Y/N tried to resist but saw that belts had been tied around him.

- You lied to me! - Y/N while but it was useless, Y/N had already fallen into Starscream's nets.

If the autobots had their human pets, why not him? Besides, it would be quite useful for him.

Y/N saw that he was flying away not knowing if he would ever be able to return home.

Now that routine and tranquility, he was going to miss it and obey his new master.

[cheerful-sixears]

TF[RiD’15]: Steeljaw X G/N canine/wolf-bot reader

•Fandom: Transformers: Robots In Disguise [2015]

•Theme: Steeljaw x G/N Canine-bot reader

•Title: "Freedom Awaits"

•Rating: PG; [mentions of clawing and typical Steeljaw behaviors] pretty sfw

•Notes: A rewrite of an old fanfic. Comrade used for G/N comfort. Steeljaw is just being a desperate loner looking for pack mates. Might be a part two of this if there is any interest. [fic below the cut]

"Most would say that fate whispers to the wolf; you cannot withstand the storm, but this wolf whispered back....I am the storm," Rushing through soon-to-be clawed up trees with talons lashing and frantic panting, you recited the quotation within your troubled and frantic mind, having learned it somewhere in the past but unaware of the real source. You strode on hind and front paws, then on two legs after exhaustion began to kick in. You'd been on the run from the autobot, "Bee" for what seemed hours. You only knew a portion of his name because the ignorant, red painted, flamboyant bot with him was obnoxious and crude when obviously and simultaneously failing to follow orders.

You soon stopped behind an aged, large tree, panting, and yet, as You tried to muster up the fuel supplies to get up and attempted to run...to no avail. Your joints and coils trembled in your exhausted frame, which resulted in a dramatic collapse before miles and miles of more forest. Your pointed, lupine audial gave a sudden twitch and swiveled around when you picked up the slightest sound of moving debris: a twig or branch snapped beneath what sounded like a large, robotic life-form, "A possible ally?" You whispered with glistening fangs readily apparent to snap as you heaved and panted for air. Your glossa hung from your lower jaw like that of an over-exhausted canine, "Show yourself..." You spoke within raspy breaths. Your optics glowed within the dim lit low lights of the sun falling beneath the trees.

Your audials fell back and your muzzle formed into that of an almost crooked smile with fangs exposed. A fearful gesture, and yet when you were ready to ward whatever it was off with a fear-inducing growl, you were suddenly whacked across your chassis with something sharp and searing. Instead of the growling, all you could muster up was a soft whimper of sudden shocked pain and discomfort, "Who are you? Why would you do that??" You continued to pant and bare your fangs as you backed yourself further into the tree. Your assailant's optics became visible in the impending darkness provided by the clustered trees and their foliage. Claws dug holes into the Earth and rake-marks into the tree's tender hide. You became so frightened that you hadn't noticed your own tail between your trembling knees.

After several moments of taunting from the intruder amidst the shadows, it finally spoke aloud, "Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is, you know," The seductive, almost soothing tone seemed quite eerie and disturbing behind the darkened visage of the night. The sudden sound of raking against the bark of another innocent tree struck your audio receptors enough to create a small spark of static and disruption, "Dear...comrade, what are you doing so exhausted and lost in the wilderness of this...backwater planet? Have you endured the same torture? The rude welcoming committee, and worst of all...the Autobots?" The figure stepped toward the small patch of light before you and revealed himself. His appearance was familiar, but you knew not his scent.

"Who are you?" You asked as your voice cracked under anxious pressure, "I will not fall prey to another-" Your words were cut short as a clawed digit pressed itself up against your maw.

"-Trap? No need to fear dear comrade, I bear the same marking as you. We are both-I assume-two cons' trying to make a living on a new planet. A new home to call our own without being treated as...criminals... and morseo...equals," He nodded his head as you glanced down at the deep claw marks through your chestplate. You winced at the still-lingering pain, "I'm sorry about that, loner. I was merely covering your tracks. You'd have probably been caught by now and stuffed back into one of those...stasis pods, again,"

"Thanks....I guess," You crossed your servos over your chassis and glanced away from your assailant, but you glanced back without hesitation, "Who are you?" You raised an eyebrow and rose off of the ground slowly-the tree supporting your still-weakened knees, "I would like to know the name of my...savior," You faltered at that final term, but kept the same, almost blank expression as their optics met.

"My name is, SteelJaw, and no need to thank me, comrade...all I ask is that you join me..on the hunt for more comrades; brothers and sisters...just like us," He clenched a fist and thrusted it to his chassis, showing confidence with every fluid motion of his being, "Again, will you join me, co-"

"My name, call me by my name," He glanced at You, seemingly startled by your retort, with a raised brow and leaned against the tree in which he clawed into shambles, as if he awaited your reply, "It's, (Y/N; first part)" You cut yourself short momentarily, not wanting the devious wolf-mech to catch your full name. You were an extremely cautious Decepticon/Autobot as odd as it seemed, and you were so tired of the rash betrayal or being hunted down by other Decepticons or even being turned in by undercover Autobots.

"...what? You seem to have...come off a bit short?" A sly grin formed on the maw of the wolf-like muzzle sported by SteelJaw. His razor-sharp fangs were visible to you as you shifted and swallowed hard before offering a reply...

"(Y/N; last part)," With defeat in your chords, you lowered your audials and glanced over at the wolf’con, who seemed to be rather amused by your strange behavior and body language, "Don't tell anybody else about my name....or me," Your pointed a claw at least inches away from Steeljaw's chin as he chuckled with utter amusement at your newly delivered threat.

“(Y/N), my dear, why would I do that...Join me. Join my...pack as it would seem I am but one..." He seemed to be playing a rather pitiful card as You saw through his pack of lies rather confidently, "I just might accidentally alert the nearest autobot of your whereabouts...unless you stick with me to...avoid that scenario, don't you think?" The sly lupine con bore his fangs in a gnarled grin as he knew he'd won. He approached you much closer, almost muzzle to muzzle, "I take that as a...yes?"

"....Yes,"

End Part

[smallflyingbread]

TFES AU where Rumble lives! (Writing + Art)

In Transformers Earthspark there’s a singular throw away line about Rumble exploding because SoundWave tried to transform when low on Energon after a fight. And that’s a shame, personally I believe they did that so they wouldn’t have to have another character to animate. Either way. There’s the story of how Rumble survived

Side note- SoundWave has telepathy, why? Because it’s f u n. Also, WARNING FOR ROBO GORE IN PHOTOS AND DESCRIPTION

\\————————————————————————//

Wood cracked and snapped as dark grey servos’s slammed a yellow autobot scout’s head against a mature oak.

“You’re supposed to be offline”, Sound’s gravelly voice echoed like the caw of a crow in Bumblebee’s processor as the yellow mechs optics flickered from the impact.

“Guess you can say I got better!”, Bumblebee shouted as his own servo shot out, his digits wrapped around a thick branch. With one solid motion he tore the branch from the main body and crashed it straight into the side of SoundWaves head.

Soundwave reeled back and a sonic screech left his speakers. Pain throbbed like a hot iron through SoundWaves helm. His servo came up to his long audial as he left something warm drip onto his shoulder, energon.

“Soundwave!”, Rumble shouted out in a panic as she scrambled for her electric keyboard that lay abandoned in the bramble that seemed to swallow it like it had just been waiting for the moment to inconvenience her.

This day had all gone wrong. Frenzy, LaserBreak, Ravange, and SoundWave were all low on Energon. SoundWave told the three to stay at their little hideout while he and Rumble went out to try to find where their sensors had been picking up nearby Energon traces. Unfortunately for Rumble, SoundWave stumbled across the thought to be dead Bumblebee who was very much alive and well.

“I told you this was a horrible idea!”, Rumble cried out at SoundWave who had recovered from being hindered and was going back and forth with the autobot scout.

“Shut up, I can handle this”, SoundWave shot back at the small femme whose metallic arms were digging her keyboard out of the thorns, scratching her arms up in the process.

With one final stretch Rumbles digits wrapped around the strap and yanked it out with all of her force, causing her to shot back and landed on her back. Scrambling to her feet she immediately pointed the blaster end at Bumblebee who had just dodged out out her fathers sonic blast that came from his hand.

Rumble didn’t even think, she just did. Her digits glided over the keys and she began riffing. Each key press strengthened the shot that was building up before she shot. The blast shot made direct contact with Bumblebee’s neck which caused him to stagger back and wince. Soundwave immediately took the opportunity and uppercut the distracted scout.

Bumblebee let out a strangled cry as he felt a heavy pede crush down on his chest, the metal hood on his chest cracking. “W-we don’t have to fight- I’m not with G-“. His reasoning was cut short by more pressure being applied to his chest. Bumblebee’s optics refocused and suddenly there was a palm infront of his face with sonic energy building up.

The yellow scout closed his optics tightly as the weapon, his stinger slid out of his arm compartment. Where was the ear-twisting sound of metal slicing metal before SoundWave stumbled back, a huge gash now in his lower thigh, painting the off-white paneling bright pink.

Bumblebee moved to thrust the stinger into SoundWave’s lower abdomen but suddenly he felt a fury of weak blasts on his side.

“N-NO! STOP! GET AWAY FROM HIM!”, Frenzy sobbed out as her fingers clumsily pressed the key’s, physically unable to form the powerful combo’s she once was sure she knew by spark. She couldn’t let her father die. No, not after everything he’d done for her and Frenzy. Not after he took them in after they were found frozen in long forgotten stasis pods.

Slowly the autobot crawled a bit away from the decepticon fugitive and Frenzy, his optics wide in conflicting. Bumblebee’s processor whirled at the choice to continue or to spare. Soundwave was hurt. This was his chance! It would surely make Optimus proud and prove himself after his fumble… but the war was over, Bumblebee firmly reminded himself. There had to be no more unnecessary death.

Suddenly the sound of approaching helicopters roared out in the sky. The figure of G.H.O.S.T copters loomed in the horizon.

“Slag, they must’ve heard us”, Bumblebee murmurs in a panic as he held his chest plate and got to his pede’s. The soreness already starting to leach into his every movement.

“Why are you worried?”, SoundWave sharply asked through the scouts mind as he stumbled towards a tree, using it to support his weight as Energon trailed behind him.

“Because I’m not with G.H.O.S.T! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Why do you think I’ve been staying low?!”, Bumblebee anxiously shouted at the blue decepticon as his optics remained locked with the shadows on the horizon.

SoundWave’s optics widened behind his visor at that realization, they both were in deep trouble now. His optics flicked down to his leg as he felt something touching it. It was Rumble who was desperately applying an Energon coagulant to the wound which was slowing the gush down to a mere trickle.

Soundwave scooped her up in his servos and ordered through his link with her, “cassette, now”.

As Frenzy obediently transformed he immediately safely stored her in his chest cavity. Soundwave took a starting run, ignoring the throbbing pain in his thigh before trying to transform.

His body refused.

He tried again. His plates shifted but failed. Warning symbols popped up on his hub, his Energon levels were too low to safely transform so his frame automatically stopped the process… he manually overrode it.

SoundWave’s plates began shifting and sliding in all the wrong directions. His arms went all in the wrong order then they were supposed to. Panic prickled up in his system as he tried to stop it, but his body kept going. Suddenly there was a sickening crack and crush as part of his arm unrelentingly pressed into something, but it wasn’t his body that was cracking. He felt no pain as his parts slowly shifted back into place.

“…. Rumble?”, SoundWaves real voice slowly asked, rough from lack of use… there was no response.

Immediately she force started his body to transform out of its alt mode, energon that wasn’t his own leaking he between his his plates as he came to the horrific realization of what happened.

Soundwave collapsed to his knees and struggled to get his tape hatch to open. His digits clumsy in his panic. The hatch popped open and a small form tumbled into his hands.

Pink Energon costed his servo before he could even register it. Rumble’s face was half torn off, her pink visor halfway gone with it. Her arm was was completely torn off, taking a chunk of her torso with it. He could feel her ripped off parts inside his frame, pressing against his own innards. It was inside of him. He had done this.

“S…Soundwave?”, a choked voice echoed from Rumbles vocalizer. Her once bright pink optic was a dull glow now, her optic lazily starting at him as Energon bubbled from her nose.

“No- no- don’t talk, SweetSpark. I’m here, your sire is here. You’re going to be okay. J-just keep your optics online. Please.”, SoundWave couldn’t stop the desperation in his voice. He didn’t care anymore, his baby was hurt.

A gargle came from Rumbles throat as the energon nose her nose turned into a river, streaming down her lips and chin.

“I-It hurts”, she tried to say as dark spots freckled her vision, barely even aware of the fact that SoundWave was using his physical voice to comfort her.

“Shh- it’s okay, it’s okay. Just- just”, SoundWave felt moister building behind his visor for the first time in centuries. He stared at her butchered frame, his own optics struggling to focus on anything but the femme he raised since she and Frenzy were a small sparkling.

“Just keep your optics on- Rumble?… Rumble?!”., SoundWave shouted as he felt something in his spark shrivel. His hands trembling around her dying frame as her optics starting loosing their already dull glow. Then suddenly, she was still.

The helicopters were getting closer, their sound temporarily capturing SoundWave’s attention. His visor turned to the sky, blurry from the tears now dripping into his mask. G.H.O.S.T was coming.

His optics glanced at Bumblebee, he looked sick with horror. His optics shrunken into pricks and his jaw agape. His doorwings were even stiff with anxiety as he watched the scene

SoundWave’s mask clicked back, revealing his scarred lips, destroyed by a violent blast to the face. “I’m so sorry… my darling girl.”, SoundWave whispered as he held back a sob. As his final act of love he gently pressed his lips to her forehead. Would her spark find its way back to Cybertron? Or was she stuck on this hell planet just like she was in life.

Gently he laid her amongst the soft grass, it cradling her body and slowly turning pink from her energon. He couldn’t take her with him. Her energon would leave a trail back to where the others were hiding and doom them all… he had to keep the rest of his family safe. Even if it broke his spark to leave her in the woods.

With shaky servos he took her visor, a reminder to himself to never make the same mistake again, and a remembrance item.

Soundwave felt his spark screaming as he stood up, he wanted to hold her a little longer. To prey to Primus if he was even real to spare his youngling… but no. He bolted, he bolted into the woods, away from the pain he’s caused and from G.H.O.S.T.

Bumblebee slowly approached the offline body. G.H.O.S.T was nearly here but it felt… wrong to leave a body out in the open. Especially that of a youngling, even if it was an older youngling.

He reached his servo out to wipe away the energon when he noticed something. From the huge open tear he saw some light. Rumbles spark dully burned in her spark chamber, like the last ember of a fire. It had condensed itself into a tight orb, keeping itself alive when the body was heavily injured.

Without another thought he scooped Rumble up into his arms, he wasn’t going to let someone die on his watch. Screw what Optimus thinks. Bumblebee was an autobot, not a G.H.O.S.T agent.

\\————————————————————————//

Might add onto this AU later! And post a reference for the Rumble design.

TL;DR- SoundWave picks a fight with Bumblebee while weak. Ghost comes and makes SoundWave run. SoundWave tries to transform with Rumble in his chest and accidentally crushes her. Soundwave leaves frenzy thinking she’s dead, Bumblebee takes her in when he realizes she didn’t dead.

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Beast Wars - Second Chances - Page 8

Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011

Story - Daniel Worsley Art - Leigh Taylor Letters - HdE

deviantART

wada sez: Finally, we’re back to the same page order of the original script; you can read it below.

PAGE 8: Scene 1: Panel 1: (box scene, Waspinator isn’t watching where he’s going. He’s bumped into a low-hanging branch with a thump. His body is squashing into his head, implying he was going at some speed).

Panel 2: (companion to the above) Waspinator is looking up, same size as the above. There are coconuts falling. Waspinator’s eyes are wide) Waspinator:  Ohh no…

Scene 2: Panel 3: (In the foreground, we see some portion of Waspinator (robot mode) from behind.? (Maybe just his feet?)? In the background, we see the entrance to Tarantulas's cave.? A trail of footprints/tracks/blood leads from Waspinator to the entrance to the cave)

Panel 4 (From inside the cave, we see that Waspinator has entered the cave; he walks toward us. Its entrance behind him, he is silhouetted by the light from outside. It is dark inside the cave. Waspy’s posture is odd, it’s both defiant, with his shoulder’s set, and terrified, his head tucked low down) Waspinator:  Szzpider-bot…Szzpider-bot leave fleshy-botszz alone… now…Waszzpinator promiszzed.

Panel 5: (In the foreground, we see Waspinator from behind; he steps back toward us. In the background, clusters of monitors come on, all with green, digital representations of Tarantulas's face on them (as well as other things, such as a wire-frame of the Ark, and “Plan: Slag it… Kill Everything” in Predacon script on one monitor) (re Waspy, think: Galvatron backing away from Unicron transforming) Tarantulas:  Do you REALLY care about those pests?  CHAHAHCCHHAHCAHAAA!  You really ARE pathetic.

Panel 6: In the foreground, Waspinator (beast mode) flies up and out of the cave toward us in a panic.? In the background, an ARMY of Fox Kids Transmetal Tarantulas drones pours out of the mouth of the cave. Tarantulas (OP):  Good riddance.

[otakween]

Digimon Frontier - Episode 42

This episode was really cute. I'm glad we have at least some consistency/iconic landmarks in the Digimon lore. This season's interpretation of the Village of Beginnings was really pretty. It was a little weird how the digi-eggs were just chilling in bushes like Easter decorations, but oh well.

Notes:

A missed opportunity for the caretaker to be a stork instead of a swan. Maybe that's not a thing in Japan though...I guess she's closer to Mother Goose.

Wait a minute, if I look closer at my screenshots it looks like the digieggs are actually growing like plants? Since when is that a thing...

(They looks like neggs lol)

I want to know what a baby Trailmon looks like lol. No new baby designs here, which is fine. I like that there are only a couple of babies and they branch from there.

They censored the digimon poop lol. Why is it bad to show a baby animal pooping on someone exactly? Or are they just avoiding potty humor?

Their conversation reflecting on becoming half-digimon was interesting. I guess they do have a deeper connection to the digital world than previous kids. I kinda thought of their digimon transformations as separate from them though, so I didn't think of them as part-digimon. I'm assuming they'll lose access to their digimon sides eventually.

The Royal Knights say that they're fine with destroying the Village of Beginnings because they can just clone the digimon...what digimon? If you destroy all of them, what exactly do you plan to clone?

The other warriors coming back kinda made no sense (they actually point out that it made no sense lol). They just kinda digivolve from digiegg to champion through ~the power of miracles~ (if they can do that, then Patamon should be able to digivolve to Seraphimon). I didn't really like that scene because they just awkwardly stood around silently. It felt like they didn't have the budget to pay the voice actors come back. It would have been more interesting to hear them talk with their purified personalities. Oh well, it was just a cameo.

"Anyone can be reborn!" Ehhh...IDK, some people just suck actually. I guess I can interpret the message as "anyone has the potential to be redeemed" doesn't mean everyone will be.

Next episode looks like filler booooo

[elmex309]

Revolutionizing Connection Technology with Plug & Socket Terminal Block Spring Clamp

Elmex is a leading name in the field of electrical connection technology, and their plug and socket terminal block spring clamps are one of their most innovative offerings. These spring clamps have revolutionized the way electrical connections are made, providing a secure and reliable connection that is easy to install and maintain.

One of the key advantages of Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps is their ease of use.  Unlike traditional screw terminals, which require manual tightening and loosening, these clamps use a spring mechanism to create a tight, secure connection with minimal effort.  This makes installation and maintenance much faster and more efficient, which is especially important in large-scale industrial applications. 

Another advantage of Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps is their reliability.  The spring mechanism ensures a consistent level of contact pressure, which minimizes the risk of loose or intermittent connections. This is particularly important in applications where the connection must remain stable and secure over a long period of time, such as in power distribution systems. 

Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps are also highly versatile.  They can be used with a wide range of wire sizes and types, making them suitable for a variety of applications.  In addition, they can be easily mounted on a DIN rail or panel, providing flexibility in installation.

Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps are also designed with safety in mind.  They are made from high-quality, flame-retardant materials that meet industry safety standards.  This ensures that they can be used in even the most demanding environments without compromising safety. 

In conclusion, Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps are a game-changer in the field of electrical connection technology.  Their ease of use, reliability, versatility, and safety make them an ideal choice for a wide range of industrial and commercial applications.  If you are looking for a secure and efficient way to make electrical connections, Elmex plug and socket terminal block spring clamps are the way to go.

[mariacallous]

Editor's note: This is an adapted excerpt from “The Contemporary Black Church: The New Dynamics of African American Religion,” which will be published by New York University Press in August 2024. Data cited in this article is from the cumulative file of the 1972-2022 General Social Survey.

In recent decades, we have witnessed major structural transformations and cultural developments that have profoundly impacted the Black Church, and these changes have strongly influenced political attitudes and political affiliations among African Americans. Today’s Black Church is primarily comprised of four traditions: Baptists, Methodists, Holiness/Pentecostals, and non-denominational Protestants. Some quick religious history and demographic information sets the tone for understanding changing politics among African Americans; the former traditions were established more than a century ago, while non-denominationals (i.e., nondenoms) were nearly nonexistent but have multiplied their flock several times over since the late 1980s.

Data from the 1972-2022 General Social Survey (GSS) indicates that Baptists comprise the largest Christian tradition in Black America by far at 43%, and they along with Methodists (five percent) help to comprise the “mainline” branch of the Black Church’s denominational family tree. Conversely, Holiness/Pentecostals (six percent) and nondenoms (12%) comprise the “evangelical” branch of the tree. It’s also worth mentioning that the percentage of religious nonaffiliates (or African Americans who do not claim to follow any particular faith) has sharply risen to 20%. In today’s world, religious “nones” are now the second largest religious classification of Black America, and it continues to grow as mainliners (in particular) lose members.

African American political alignments have changed along with their religious affiliations, and this helps to explain a burgeoning diversity within Black America. Black America is not the political monolith that many people inaccurately believe that it is. For example, recent GSS data shows that there has been a double-digit decline—by as much as 43%—in the percentage of self-described political “liberals” among Baptists, Holiness/Pentecostals, nondenoms, and religious nonaffiliates. Most of these ideological switchers now describe themselves as political “moderates.” Furthermore, there has been a double-digit increase in the percentage of African Americans who claim to be political “conservatives” among nondenoms, Black followers of historically white evangelical traditions, Catholics, and religious “nones.” Indeed, only 13% of Black nondenoms claimed to be politically “conservative” in the early 1980s. However, at least 25% do so today, and there is no reason to believe that this slow but steady trend will reverse course any time soon due to changing ideological alignments among African Americans overall.

A driving assumption in the study of U.S. politics is that African Americans overwhelmingly identify as Democrats and consistently vote for Democratic candidates when exercising their right to vote. However, these expectations—like those for Blacks’ political ideologies—can no longer be accepted at face value. It is true that nearly 70% of African Americans across most religious classifications align themselves with the Democratic Party. However, there are some notable exceptions. No less than 77% of Methodists and 74% of Baptists think of themselves as “Democrats,” while only 60% of nondenominational Protestants do so. Moreover, one-third of nondenoms view themselves as “independents,” while more than half of religious nonaffiliates do so. These latter findings are especially important considering that nondenoms and “nones” are the two fastest-growing religious categories among African Americans in the post-Civil Rights era.

To be sure, the strength of African Americans’ affiliation with the Democratic Party has substantially weakened over the decades. In the early 1970s, 78% of Baptists viewed themselves as Democrats. However, only 68% do so now. Nondenoms and Catholics also experienced double-digit declines in alignments with the Democratic Party, while Holiness/Pentecostals, Baptists, and “nones” experienced double-digit increases among members who view themselves as independents. Although a whopping 90% of Methodists affiliate with the Democratic Party today, only 43% of religious nonaffiliates do so. This is by far the lowest percentage for any religious classification in Black America.

It is important to note that while many African Americans are moving away from the Democratic Party, they are not moving towards the Republican Party in any meaningful way. The percentage of Black Catholics who view themselves as Republicans increased by nine percent, while nondenoms and “nones” respectively increased by four percent and three percent. A multifaceted explanation for this boils down to the fact that many African Americans still don’t “trust” the Republican Party to address persistent racial discrimination and inequality. Nevertheless, Blacks’ commitment to social conservativism on various issues (such as homosexuality, for example) remains resolute, and affluent African Americans increasingly believe that they personally stand to benefit from conservative Republicans’ attention to lower taxes and other financial incentives that enhance their earning power. Thus, there is strong reason to believe that Black support for the Republican Party could expand with the passage of time.

What does all of this mean for the upcoming 2024 presidential election between Joe Biden and Donald Trump? In short, we cannot presume that the Black vote will automatically go to President Biden. In an election that will likely be decided at the margins, Biden will have to work to garner segments of the Black vote—particularly nondenominational Protestants and religious nonaffiliates. For instance, (1) Baptists and Methodists are statistically more likely to vote in presidential elections, and when they do vote, they do so overwhelmingly for Democrats. This is primarily because clergy within these mainline denominations led the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s (remember, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was Baptist). However, (2) nondenominational Protestants are significantly less likely to vote for Democratic candidates than Baptists and Methodists and are twice as likely to vote for Republicans. And finally, (3) while religious “nones” tend to vote for Democrats, they don’t turn out to vote nearly as consistently as Baptists and Methodists. Thus, if the Democratic Party wants to garner the support of these different blocs in Black America, it must figure out a way to bridge a gap between believers who comprise the backbone of the Black vote and nonaffiliates who require an additional layer of motivation to cast their vote since they consider themselves to be “independents.”

So, while President Biden has some work to do, there is room for former President Trump to make gains among the fastest-growing Christian tradition within the contemporary Black Church—those nondenominational Protestant voters who identify as “conservative” and/or might vote for Republicans on the basis of their privileged pocketbook rather than what could seemingly be beneficial for Blacks in general. Trump must also hope that the “nones” sit out this election cycle.

[taylorprintssussex]

Capturing the Essence of Lewes: The Red Blossom Tree

Nestled in the heart of East Sussex lies the picturesque town of Lewes, where history meets natural beauty at every turn. Amidst its charming streets and historic landmarks, there exists a hidden gem – a majestic red blossom tree that stands as a symbol of vitality and grace.

My journey to capture the essence of Lewes led me to this stunning tree, adorned with vibrant red blossoms that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. With my camera in hand, I set out to immortalize the beauty of this natural wonder, knowing that it held the power to captivate hearts and inspire awe.

As I framed the shot, I was struck by the contrast between the rich crimson hues of the blossoms and the verdant backdrop of the surrounding landscape. The branches stretched out like arms, reaching towards the sky with an air of elegance and resilience.

Back in my studio, I turned to Photoshop to enhance the magic of the moment captured through my lens. With precision and care, I adjusted the colors to accentuate the vibrancy of the blossoms, ensuring that each petal glowed with an ethereal radiance.

But I didn't stop there. Inspired by the spirit of Lewes, I infused the image with a sense of nostalgia and warmth, giving it a timeless quality that spoke to the town's rich history and enduring charm. Using Photoshop's advanced tools, I added subtle textures and overlays to evoke the feeling of stepping into a cherished memory.

The final result was more than just a photograph – it was a work of art that encapsulated the essence of Lewes in all its splendor. With every brushstroke and adjustment layer, I breathed life into the image, transforming it into a masterpiece that would evoke emotion and spark imagination.

As I reflect on my journey to capture the red blossom tree of Lewes, I am reminded of the profound impact that nature can have on our lives. In its beauty and simplicity, it serves as a reminder of the wonder and magic that surrounds us, waiting to be discovered and cherished.

May this digital photograph serve as a testament to the timeless allure of Lewes and the power of art to capture the essence of a moment. Let it inspire you to seek out the beauty that lies within your own surroundings, and may it remind you of the boundless potential of the world around us.

[happybird16]

•Chapter Fourteen•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Blood, gore, vomiting, transformations.

Chapter length: 10.7k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: The end is here..... Here we go!!!! ;))))))

Previous chapter

Your entire being throbs with an unbearable intensity, as if searing hot lava courses through your veins. The pain engulfs you, making it nearly impossible to focus or think clearly.

On your hands and knees, you tremble uncontrollably. Each convulsion sends waves of agony through your body, causing your jaw to ache and your teeth to feel unnervingly loose. With a wet and violent cough, some of your teeth dislodge, crashing onto the floor and leaving behind a distressing pool of blood. The concrete echoes with the clattering of more teeth, accompanying each cough. Acid and blood rise in your throat, stinging your eyes with tears. You retch repeatedly, expelling a gruesome mixture of blood and large pink clumps, as if your insides are ablaze, desperately struggling to escape.

As the torment persists, the ringing in your ears grows louder, obliterating any semblance of sound. The excruciating pain consumes you, cutting off your connection to the outside world. The deafening silence engulfs you, intensifying the suffering you endure. Your own pained sobs go unheard amidst this overwhelming stillness.

Just when you think the pain might be reaching its peak, a sudden shift occurs. The focus of the torment narrows, honing in on your fingers and toes with a renewed intensity. It feels as if your digits have been filled with lightning. The pain becomes unbearable, overwhelming your senses until you can no longer bear it. You fall forward, straight into the bloody mess.

The red haze at the edges of your vision surges, engulfing your sight with flickering sparks. Your perception flickers, almost plunging into darkness as if something else, untamed and ferocious, claws its way to the forefront of your mind. Helplessly, your consciousness succumbs to the overwhelming distress, and you succumb to unconsciousness. The world around you fades into an abyss of darkness.

When you regain control, the intensity has slightly diminished, but the discomfort persists, causing your fingers and toes to throb and ache. Your eyes and ears sting, as if every sensory input has become amplified, overwhelming your senses.

An extraordinary level of clarity fills your eyes, revealing a world of intricate detail. The previously unnoticed imperfections in the stone floor become visible, each grain standing out distinctly, as if magnified by an unseen force. You can trace the intricate patterns and textures etched upon the surface, appreciating the subtle variations in color and shape.

The once-muted drone of the overhead lights now reverberates through your ears with a deafening roar. The familiar hum transforms into an overpowering cacophony, drowning out all other sounds.

As the acrid scent of blood invades your nostrils, a sharp, metallic burn fills your senses, leaving an unmistakable impression. The taste of iron floods your mouth, a disturbing reminder of the gruesome experience you have endured. Below you, the once-disturbing pool of crimson has transformed into a dry, flaky, and crumbly mess. The remnants of your insides, once large pink clumps, now adorn the dried crimson as a repulsive wet sludge, serving as a grotesque testament to the ordeal you have undergone.

The sight of this macabre scene, with its mingling hues of dried blood and the repugnant presence of your expelled organs, threatens to overwhelm your senses once again. It is an image that triggers a strong sense of revulsion, making you feel on the verge of another bout of vomiting. However, your stomach now lies empty, leaving you with the sensation of heaving with nothing to expel.

You don't know how long you were out of it- a while, by the look of it, but your surroundings have completely changed. The once painfully familiar cage is almost unrecognizable. As you survey your now-unfamiliar surroundings, the extent of the changes becomes apparent. The evidence of your transformation surrounds you, tangible and undeniable.

Your gaze falls upon the floor, and there, etched into the once-smooth and unyielding surface, are massive claw marks. These deep and elongated grooves crisscross the entirety of the cage. Each gouge speaks of an untamed force that tore through the very fabric of your confinement, leaving behind a striking visual reminder of the transformation that has taken place.

Did- did you do this?

Was it your new primal nature, that wild beast lurking within the recesses of your mind, that took control and unleashed such destructive force? The duality within you, the coexistence of your human consciousness and this untamed presence, becomes increasingly apparent.

And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the pain lingering in your digits subsides, fading away into an eerie silence. The torment that had consumed your entire being is replaced by an unsettling calmness, leaving you in a state of uncertain tranquility. The creature claws cruelly at the back of your mind to assert its existence, reminding you of its presence and the potential it holds.

The power coursing through your veins refuses to wane; it persists with an unwavering strength. Your heart pounds forcefully in your chest, its rhythmic thuds reverberating in your ears. You feel a surge of invincibility, as if you possess a raw, untamed strength that sets you apart from mere mortals.

A sense of wonder fills your chest as you catch the first glimpse of your transformation. Claws extend from your fingertips, sharp and formidable. Long menacing fangs emerge from your mouth, you can feel them curving over your bottom lip, ending with terrifyingly sharp points. The transformation is both exhilarating and terrifying, as if an ancient primal energy has awakened within you.

The weight of this newfound strength settles upon you, an electrifying surge coursing through your veins. As you stand tall, the world takes on a different hue, a blend of heightened senses and heightened awareness. Your eyesight sharpens, allowing you to perceive even the faintest details of your surroundings. Every sound becomes amplified, from the subtlest whisper of wind to the distant rustle of leaves far outside.

You flex your newly formed claws, marveling at their lethal beauty. They glint in the light, a stark reminder of the untamed ferocity that now courses through your being. The weight of your existence shifts, and with it, a sense of purpose begins to take hold.

Your toenails have cut through the leather of your boots, sharp points of your new claws poking through and destroying them. Leaving behind the remnants of your tattered boots, you feel the coolness of the floor beneath your feet, the sensation enhanced by the sharp points of your claws dragging against the stone. Each step echoes with a newfound confidence and primal grace, as if the very ground recognizes the power that now resides within you.

As you take in the extent of your transformation, uncertainty fills your mind. You struggle to comprehend the nature of what you have become—a hybrid of your human self and this untamed presence. Adrenaline courses through your veins, amplifying the intensity of your emotions and instincts, blurring the line between sanity and madness. You feel as if you're half-insane, Wild and yet still mostly in control.

Suddenly, your heightened senses pick up the distant shuffling sound, and your new primal instincts surge to the forefront, urging you to pursue it. The sound of footsteps echoes in the direction where the shifter often departed. An eager, excited grin spreads across your cheeks. The anticipation of the hunt thrums through your veins, urging you to explore this newfound power and embrace the raw ferocity within.

With a mere swipe of your formidable claws, the bars of your once unbreakable cage crumble effortlessly. The metal that once held countless terrifying creatures captive for their entire lifetimes now yields to your newfound strength, disintegrating into small, fragmented pieces that clatter loudly against the floor.

The taste of freedom hangs in the air, invigorating your senses as you stride out from the confinements that once held you captive. The world before you teems with unexplored wonders and potential prey, beckoning to your newly awakened instincts. Every fiber of your being thrums with the primal call of the hunt, urging you to unleash your newfound abilities and indulge in the thrill of the unknown that lies ahead.

Driven by your predatory instincts, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to the source of the noise, compelled to confront and vanquish the nearby monster. The temptation is too strong to resist, and you make no attempt to hold back the wild desires that course through you. Your mouth waters in anticipation, drool coating the lower half of your face like that of a feral creature, a testament to the untamed beast that now resides within you.

With each step you take, a surge of power burns through your veins, infusing you with the strength and agility of a primal predator on the prowl. The meticulous observations you made of the shifter’s movements, once so vital, now pale in comparison to your heightened senses and instinctual guidance. The labyrinthine hallway becomes a familiar path as your attuned senses guide you unerringly towards your destination, bypassing countless doors until you arrive at a small room.

The shifter, caught off guard, drops the tray of food it was holding with a loud clatter. Its Zeke-form's mouth hangs open in disbelief, and it takes several shaky steps backward before hastily fleeing through another doorway. The door slams closed behind him with a loud click.

Satisfaction floods your instincts, filling you with exhilaration at the prospect of the chase. Joy courses through your veins as your new muscles effortlessly propel you forward, breaking straight through the wooden door in a dramatic shower of splinters. The sheer velocity at which you traverse the hallway is nothing short of terrifying, leaving behind a trail of destruction in your wake.

Mocking laughter escapes your lips as you pursue the fleeing shifter. "So you are a coward after all," you taunt gleefully. The facility seems endless, with hallway after hallway, twisting and turning in intricate patterns. With each abrupt change in direction the shifter makes, your sheer velocity propels you shoulder forward into the stone walls, leaving behind broken indentations as evidence of your unstoppable pursuit.

In this moment, your instincts dominate, reveling in the exhilarating chase and the sheer pleasure it brings. The horror that once consumed you, the mission to save Levi, and the deep-seated rage all fade into the background. In their absence, there remains an unfiltered desire to catch and kill, an embodiment of pure predatory instinct. Your laughter rings out loudly, announcing your presence as an unstoppable force, driven by both newfound power and unbridled joy. In this state, you are akin to a cat toying with its prey, gleefully savoring each moment of the thrilling pursuit.

The shifter's desperate escape leads it into what appears to be a small office, the rows of desks serving as its final refuge. With no way out, it finds itself cornered, pressed flat against the wall. The sight of its quivering, fear-stricken form sends a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you witness its trembling knees give way, causing the shifter to slide limply to the floor.

In a frantic attempt to defend itself, the shifter hurls objects your way. Pens and a coffee mug, a small trash bin—anything it can grab hold of. However, their impact against your resilient form is futile, each projectile bouncing harmlessly off you. Closing in on the shifter, your newly formed sharp teeth stretch into a terrifying, hungry smile. "Got you," you mock gleefully, savoring the fear that radiates from its eyes.

In a trembling voice, the shifter stammers, its words laced with terror, "W-what did you do? What the fuck did you do?"

With a chilling grin, you tauntingly repeat the shifter’s words, savoring the fear that lingers in the air. “What did you say? ‘It takes a monster to fight a monster?’ I promised you that I’d kill you.”

Terror tightens its grip on the shifter as the gravity of the situation becomes apparent. Its feet scramble against the floor, desperately attempting to shuffle even further away. “H-how is this even possible? Every human that was experimented on lost their mind,” it stammers, visibly shaken before you. “What are you?”

“Just a beaten-down little farm girl,” you reply playfully, your own voice taking on an unfamiliar tone. Reveling in the shifter’s fear, you approach slowly, as if stalking your prey. Claws held at the ready, your smile stretches wider and wider with every step. “Looks like I won your little waiting game.”

The shifter’s trembling intensifies as it realizes the futility of its resistance. It huddles against the wall, searching desperately for an escape that isn’t there. Fear-stricken eyes meet your predatory gaze, unable to comprehend the depths of the transformation that has taken place within you. The raw power and unyielding determination radiating from your very being leave it paralyzed with terror.

With each step closer, your presence looms larger, enveloping the room with an undeniable aura of danger. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, as if time itself slows down to witness the unfolding confrontation. The shifter’s pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the primal instinct that drives you forward.

As you draw nearer, the shifter’s form begins to ripple and shrink. Zeke's wide shoulders fold in and his tall stature gives way to that of a small child, barely coming up to your knee. The little girl's pale skin is filthy and her clothes are torn and thin. You notice that her hair is matted and her feet are bare, coated up to the ankle with mud and grime. Innocent eyes widen with fear as it pleads, “Don’t hurt me,” in a small, childlike whimper.

The sight stuns you, stopping you short in your approach. A torrent of emotions breaks through the primal instincts that had taken hold of you, piercing through the red haze that clouded your mind. The power you possess remains potent, yet confronted with the innocence and fear in the little girl’s eyes, your conscience compels you to reconsider.

Her quivering lip trembles, tears well up in her glistening brown eyes, streaming down her cheeks stained with dirt. Scooting forward on her knobbly little knees, her tiny little fingers tug sorrowfully on your pant leg. Watery doe eyes strike a cord deep into your heart. The profound vulnerability in her continuous plea, "Please! Don't hurt me," resonates deeply within you, unraveling the ravenous hunger that consumed you mere moments ago. The pathetic display is just an attempt to tug at your heart strings, you know that, but still the sight makes your chest ache.

Observing the little girl sniffling and sobbing, a surge of anger engulfs you, realizing that this frail, emaciated child must have been one of its victims.

“You think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? I’m done falling for your fucking games," you growl, swiping at it.

Before your strike lands, it transforms into something minuscule—a small, dark grey rat, hastily scurrying over scattered papers in a desperate attempt to escape. With lightning speed, you seize it in your hands. It squeaks shrilly in response, struggling within your firm grip, as you eagerly crush its feeble limbs, determined to extinguish its existence.

“What an ironic form for you to take,” you remark with a grin, peering down at the writhing creature. Its tiny claws scrabble against the skin of your thumb, a futile struggle. Adjusting your grip, you exert pressure with the sharp edges of your claws, piercing its side and witnessing blood welling up. “Was this your first meal? The foundation of your being?”

Suddenly, the small, squirming form between your claws undergoes a grotesque transformation, filling you with horror and disbelief. It swells, bubbles, and oozes, slipping free from your grasp. In an instant, an unseen force propels you backward, crashing into the far wall with a sickening crack. Agonizing pain shoots through your shoulder as the impact takes its toll. Before you can recover, formidable claws latch onto your shoulders, relentlessly slamming your head into the unyielding stone. Each blow reverberates through your skull, leaving you disoriented and dazed. Blood stains the surface behind you, evidence of the brutal assault.

The creature’s current form is a nightmarish amalgamation, an unsettling blend of wolf and man. Twisted ram horns jut from its temples, further distorting its already terrifying visage. Looming close to your face, the twisted, sharp points threaten to jab into your temple. Its grey fur ripples with power and its muscles bulge with raw strength.

“I was so close,” it growls, the words vibrating with menace. Each impact of your head against the wall intensifies the pain and disorientation. “My daughter will spawn in a matter of hours! Why did you have to ruin it!” A gust of putrid breath washes over your face as its wide yellow teeth gleam in a gruesome grin, a macabre display of its relentless fury. The revolting stench overwhelms your senses, adding to the torment of the brutal assault.

“I planned this for so long!” The creature's deafening roar rattles your senses, its fury resonating through the air. Its powerful grip tightens around your throat, constricting your airflow and cutting off your ability to breathe. As oxygen becomes scarce, your lungs burn and your vision blurs. Your desperate struggles for air yield no relief, and your consciousness starts to fade amidst the suffocating grip.

Through the haze of asphyxiation, you strain to decipher its words, but the roaring in your ears drowns out most of the sounds. Its lips continue to move, expressing its frustration and disappointment. The grip on your throat intensifies, its claws digging deeper into your skin, causing searing pain. The creature's furious red eyes bore into your own, its relentless anger evident in its gaze.

"You're useless to me like this!" it growls, its words barely reaching your disoriented mind. The weight of its disappointment hangs heavily in the air, amplifying your own sense of helplessness. It contemplates its next move, its grip on your throat a constant reminder of your vulnerability. “What am I going to do now?”

Dizzy and gasping for air, your only response is a pained wheeze. Desperation fuels your actions as you dig your claws into the creature's arms, the sharp points sinking deep into its bones. In an unintentional strike, you slash through one of its arms, unleashing a spray of warm blood that soaks your front. The severed limb falls to the ground with a sickening thud, leaving behind a gruesome scene.

The creature screeches in agony, its grip on you loosening as it hastily retreats, a mixture of shock and pain contorting its features. With the immediate threat momentarily alleviated, you sink heavily to the floor, weakened and battered. A large trail of blood marks your path along the wall.

Your chest heaves as you greedily intake air, replenishing your oxygen-starved lungs. The adrenaline coursing through your veins begins to ebb, replaced by the throbbing pain and the weight of exhaustion. Beside you, the severed limb flails and jerks in a terrifying display, its vitality rapidly diminishing as it blackens and shrivels.

"Do you know how long it's going to take for me to grow that back?" The shifter's voice trembles with anger, the severed stump of its arm gushing blood and staining the floor with a pool of red. As you witness the crimson pool spreading, an intense hunger stirs within you, your predatory instincts urging you to feast on its vulnerability. The teeth in your mouth seem to elongate and sharpen, a primal desire taking hold.

But as the wounds on your shoulders throb with pain, a different sensation washes over you. A surge of intense heat emanates from your back and the back of your head. Your injuries rapidly heal before your eyes, the wounds sealing closed and even your dislocated shoulder snapping back into place. A victorious smile tugs at your lips as you witness your newfound regenerative abilities. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that," you taunt, relishing in the shifter's mounting fury.

Growling with a mix of fury and desperation, the shifter's form ripples once again, transforming into a massive creature enveloped in dark brown fur. Its size fills the room, causing desks and chairs to crunch and buckle beneath its sheer mass, a daunting display of its formidable presence.

“I don’t care if you’ve become some sort of fucked-up hybrid. I’m not letting you kill me!” Its booming voice resonates through the room, now deeper and more menacing than before. It belittles your transformation, mocking your strength, “You're just some stupid, weak human. So what if you've gained some pointy edges.”

In a swift and terrifying transformation, the shifter morphs into a massive ape-like creature, towering over you. Its gigantic form blocks any escape, pressing you into the blood-soaked corner with your back against the wall. The overwhelming presence threatens to crush you, both literally and figuratively, but you refuse to yield, digging your claws into whatever flesh you can reach.

“Do you know how long I’ve lived? How many humans I’ve eaten?” It taunts, its giant, warped features shifting rapidly, displaying a thousand-odd faces. The unsettling sight burns your eyes and makes your skin crawl. “Compared to me, you're nothing. An insignificant flea.”

Sadistic glee drips from its voice, “Maybe I should keep you on the brink of death and feed you to my child anyway,” it sneers, reveling in its sadistic fantasies. “You might not be able to blend in, but I bet your little mate would still recognize you.”

“Speaking of, what do you think he’ll make of what you've become?” it taunts cruelly. Its huge hand wraps around you, lifting you up to face level and entrapping your arms to your side. Beneath its strength, your ribs crack. “Say you do kill me and escape, do you think he’ll still love the monster?”

In a surge of feral instinct, you sink your fangs deep into the shifter’s massive finger, tasting its blood. The metallic tang fills your mouth, fueling an overwhelming surge of primal hunger. The red haze consumes your vision completely as the taste of blood intensifies your craving for more.

With a growl, you latch onto its finger, refusing to let go. The shifter recoils in pain, momentarily loosening its grip on you. Seizing the opportunity, you twist and wriggle free from its grasp, dropping to the ground.

The thirst for blood still coursing through your veins, you advance towards the shifter, driven by an insatiable rage. Claws extended, you launch yourself at its towering form, slashing and tearing at its flesh. Each strike is fueled by a mix of vengeance and bloodlust, as you unleash the monstrous power that has taken hold of you.

The shifter roars in agony, its form writhing under your assault. Deep gashes mar its flesh, blood cascading from its wounds. The tables have turned, and now it is the one trembling in fear.

As you swing blindly, the shifter delivers a powerful backhand that propels you into the wall. The impact rattles your body, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins numbs the pain. Ignoring the discomfort, you quickly recover and shoot forward, driven by an unstoppable determination.

With precise and swift movements, you slice through the shifter’s other arm, severing it from its shoulder. The limb falls to the ground, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Without pause, you continue your assault, targeting its legs one by one.

With each strike, the shifter’s legs flail and shrivel up, resembling the desperate motions of a dying insect. Its once formidable presence diminishes, reduced to a feeble and incapacitated state. The room is filled with the stench of blood and the sounds of its agonized cries.

Stomping your foot hard into its chest, its ribs crack loudly. As the shifter lies beneath your foot, its chest caving under the force of your stomp, a chilling satisfaction fills your being. Without a shred of mercy, you continue your relentless assault, slicing through its flesh again and again. The once imposing creature is now reduced to a grotesque, shapeless mass of gore.

Its desperate attempts to regenerate and reform prove futile, as each new limb formed quickly withers and disintegrates. The shifter’s voice takes on a pleading, childlike tone, “D-don't do this. Please. I- I don't want to die. I don't deserve this-”

“How dare you,” you spit with venomous contempt. “After everything you've done, you deserve this and more.”

It continues to beg, squirming pathetically beneath your foot. “Please no! I- I can help you. I know things- I know where the other facilities are! They're still in operation! I-”

Cutting off its words, you hiss with finality, your patience exhausted. “No,” you declare firmly. “I’m tired of hearing you speak. I’m done.”

With a burst of strength, your hand pierces through its throat, causing a wet, gurgling sound as it struggles to breathe. Its last breath rattles wet around your forearm. Gradually, the creature grows still, its once vibrant eyes fading into lifeless grey.

As the shifter’s body lies motionless, a mix of emotions swirl within you—victory, anger, and a lingering sense of darkness. You take a moment to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of your actions and the gravity of the path you’ve chosen.

You bask in the aftermath of your violent act, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. An unsettling urge to laugh hysterically threatens to escape your lips.

The flow of blood from its severed limbs ceases, no longer contributing to the already sizable pool staining the floor. A primal hunger awakens within you, causing your mouth to water and drool to trickle down your chin. You want to eat it, to gorge yourself on its flesh until the ache in your stomach is gone.

The thought terrifies you, shaking you to the core. It takes everything you have to wrestle down the urge.

The shifter's demise has frozen its transformation midway, leaving behind a grotesque sight of misshapen limbs and oozing black fluid. Your gaze fixates on the inky black scales that now adorn its body, prompting a moment of reflection and contemplation.

You’ve forgotten something. Something important. But it's hard to think, instincts and blood lust roaring loudly in the back of your head. You had a purpose, you try to remember, you were trying to save someone. The dark scales spring the beginning of a name to mind, the sound of it so close you can feel it on the tip of your tongue.

Le

Levi.

The name reverberates through your consciousness, slicing through the haze of instinct and bloodlust that threatens to consume you. Levi—your heart leaps at the sound of it, a beacon of clarity in the midst of chaos. With renewed determination, you grasp onto the flickering ember of your purpose and set forth on a singular mission: to save Levi.

Each step becomes deliberate, your senses sharpening as you navigate the treacherous terrain with newfound focus. The urgency to find Levi drives you forward, overriding the primal urges that clamor for your attention. Your mind clears, the feral voice in the back of your head becoming a quiet echo.

Through the winding corridors and dimly lit chambers, you press on, guided by an unyielding determination. The stench of blood and decay permeates the air, but you push past the nauseating odor, swallowing heavily to fight the urge to drool.

Driven by pure, blind adrenaline, you stumble through the labyrinth towards an open metal door, allowing the scent of fresh air to guide your path. With each step, your bare feet sink into the cold snow, grounding you in the present moment. The urgency to locate Levi takes precedence over everything else, and you forge ahead, determined to find him.

You're near the tip of Prime, high enough along the mountainside for the ground to be coated with a thick layer of snow and ice. Standing in the thin air, you gaze out at the breathtaking scenery surrounding you. The mountainside is adorned with a pristine layer of snow and ice, creating a glistening blanket that stretches as far as the eye can see. Above, the majestic snow-capped peak looms, an imposing presence against the horizon.

It's morning, you note, pausing to take in your surroundings. The sun is just beginning to rise behind the peak, its gentle rays illuminating the sky, painting it with a captivating display of vibrant hues. The transitioning colors blend with the fading darkness, creating a breathtaking panorama that captivates your senses. Amidst the soft light, a handful of stars still twinkle, remnants of the night sky refusing to fade away completely.

Standing high above The Maw’s canopy, you can see the edge of your village in the distance below. They should be nothing but a blur in the distance, but your eyes can catch the edges of each little farmhouse, the burnt remains of your childhood home.

You're close. You're so painfully close.

As you sprint down the mountainside, the frigid air bites at your skin, and your surroundings blur in a whirl of white. The thick layer of snow and ice beneath your feet makes each step treacherous, but you push forward, driven by a desperate need to find Levi.

The world around you is alive, little animals scurrying frantically away at your hurried approach. The sight brings about a resurgent urge to give chase, to catch the little squirrels in your maw, but you quickly tamp down on the frightening urge.

Suddenly, your balance falters, and you crash to the ground, tumbling through the snow and sharp rock edges. The impact leaves a massive smear of blood against the pristine white canvas. The sight of your red blood reassures you in some twisted way, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. Your blood is still red. That's a good sign.

A mix of determination and uncertainty fuels your thoughts as you imagine reuniting with Levi. Will he still recognize you? Will he accept what you've become? It's a haunting question that lingers in your mind, and all you can do is cling to the hope that love can withstand even the most profound transformations.

As you descend further, the once-dominant snowy landscape gradually transforms, revealing bare rocks and patches of soft grass. The frigid grip of winter loosens its hold, and the season seamlessly transitions into the vibrant renewal of spring. The incline of the terrain gradually transitions into a picturesque hilly forest, filled with towering trees and a rich tapestry of foliage.

With power coursing through your veins, your thighs effortlessly propel you forward, their strength unfazed by the demands of the journey. Your bare feet connect with the ground forcefully, propelling you into a swift sprint. Your focus narrows solely on reaching the nest, bypassing the opportunity to absorb the beauty of your surroundings.

As you approach the mountainside with urgency, your heart sinks as you notice no billowing smoke rising from the entrance, no flickering flames dancing along the cave’s rim. A foreboding absence fills the air, casting a shadow over your heart.

With caution, you take your first step into the nest, and darkness envelops you, momentarily disorienting your senses. The silence amplifies, unsettlingly devoid of the usual sounds of life. Your breath catches in your throat as a sense of unease washes over you. It's quiet, far too quiet.

It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the dimness, but eventually, the outlines of the nest and its contents become visible. The once cozy and comforting haven now bears the marks of chaos and destruction. Torn furs and blankets lie scattered, their softness now marred by claw marks. Large groves have also been etched into the walls. It's a stark contrast to the familiar warmth and security this place used to provide.

Your voice, filled with a mix of concern and relief, breaks the silence as you call out Levi's name. Your eyes search the cave until they settle on his curled-up form at the far end. He's startlingly still, pale skin visible in the low light. “Levi?” you call him softly, eyes tracing the bare muscle of his back. There's a painful moment where you think he might be dead, in that heart-stopping moment, you fear the worst, but the subtle movements of his chest and the gentle quiver of his tail assure you that he's still alive.

A mix of emotions floods over you—relief that he's alive, anguish at the sight of the ravaged nest, and an overwhelming desire to protect him from the chaos that has invaded your lives. Slowly and cautiously, you approach Levi, hoping that your presence can bring him some measure of comfort in this uncertain and turbulent time.

As you step forward, bare feet catching against the tangled mess of bedding and pine, you find solace in the thought that Levi might be resting. The weight of worry begins to lift from your shoulders, and you exhale a long-awaited sigh of relief. The thought is abruptly interrupted by a loud crunch beneath your foot, causing you to freeze. Your gaze drops to the floor, and your heart sinks as you take in the scraggly and torn bits of paper strewn across the room. Among the wreckage, the once beautiful book on tea that you had lovingly chosen for Levi lies open, its pages torn free from the binding. The once pristine leather backing is now marred with claw marks and fractures. The sight of the destroyed book sends a pang of pain coursing through your chest.

The sound of your own voice calling out his name echoes through the stillness. "Levi? Are you okay?"

However, before you can reach Levi, a sudden and piercing hiss tears through the air, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The noise abruptly halts your approach, freezing you in your tracks and filling your veins with ice. With a sense of dread creeping up, you witness the figure slowly turning around, revealing its ominous silhouette in the darkness. Your heart skips a beat as you lock eyes with its vacant, pure white gaze, sending a chilling sensation through your entire being. Those eyes hold no trace of consciousness; they are utterly mindless.

In this moment, a realization strikes you: Levi is Wild. The fear intensifies, knowing that the person you once knew and loved has become something unknown, unpredictable, and dangerous.

As the figure's body coils up, its muscles tense with an untamed energy, propelling it forward with astonishing speed. Before you can react, it lunges at you with a force that knocks you off balance. The impact sends you crashing onto your back, the breath forced out of your lungs in an instant. The sound of a distinct rattle fills the air, adding to the disorienting chaos of the moment.

In the commotion, a faint glimpse of Levi’s transformed state manages to catch your eye—the tip of his tail. The once-familiar appendage is now adorned with a sickenly yellow rattle, its unsettling sound resonating through the air and sending a chill down your spine.

In a state of panic, you feel agonizing pain as the creature's claws dig deep into your shoulders, tearing through the fabric of your sweater and leaving behind a trail of blood. Desperately, you use your trembling hands to push against its shoulders, exerting all your strength to break free from its grip.

But as you struggle, the creature's empty white eyes continue to haunt you. Its fangs, now unnaturally sharp and menacing, snap dangerously close to your face, a chilling reminder of the imminent danger you're in. The mere inches that separate its gnashing jaws from your nose amplify your fear to a whole new level.

To make matters worse, your eyes catch sight of the transformation taking place. Dark, razor-edged scales protrude from his spine, oozing inky black blood from where they pierce his skin. The sight adds an extra layer of terror and confirms that the creature you once knew as Levi has indeed changed into an uncontrollable feral beast.

“Levi!” As tears stream down your face, you cry out desperately, calling Levi's name in a mix of fear and anguish. You long for him to recognize you, to break free from the feral instincts that have consumed him. "Levi, please! It's me!" you plead, hoping that some part of him can still hear and understand your words.

However, your heartfelt pleas fall on deaf ears. Levi, lost to his wild transformation, continues to snap relentlessly at your throat, his actions driven solely by primal urges.

It takes everything you have not to snap back at him. A feral voice, barely audible in the depths of your mind, urges you to fight back, to give in to your own animalistic instincts and defend yourself with equal ferocity. The conflict between your love for Levi and the survival instinct within you intensifies, tearing at your emotions. The overwhelming urge to reciprocate the attack threatens to consume you, but you fight against it, knowing that sinking to that level would mean losing the connection you once shared.

You can't bear hurting him, even if your instincts make your teeth itch with the urge to dig them into his exposed throat. The mere thought makes your chest ache, sobs welling up in your throat to echo loudly in the small chamber.

As your vision blurs with tears, the weight of the situation becomes almost unbearable. The mixture of sorrow, fear, and conflicting instincts wracks your body, leaving you sobbing uncontrollably, caught between the desperation to save yourself and the heart-wrenching pain of witnessing Levi's transformation.

His tail rises and coils around your waist, its grip tightening like a constrictor, winding itself painfully tight around your rib cage, locking firmly in place.

Your focus shifts abruptly as your eyes are drawn to a shocking sight. Bright red, dry blood saturates his torso, creating a stark contrast against his pale skin. It runs onto your sweater where his chest presses against yours, further ruining the fabric. What did he do?

"I'm sorry!" you sob, desperately pleading as you push at his shoulders, trying to maintain a safe distance, preventing him from tearing out your throat. The weight of guilt consumes you. "This is all my fault! I'm sorry I left you."

Despite the pain it inflicts, you meet his vacant gaze, searching for a glimmer of recognition. "You can overcome this. You've conquered it before! Come back to me, please!"

Beneath the pressure of your trembling fingers, his shoulders begin to tremble in response. The frenzied snapping at your neck gradually slows. Then, something unexpected happens. Thick, sludgy black lines start to trickle from his eyes. Tears. He's crying black tears.

However, even in this moment of vulnerability, he remains a snarling, disheveled mess, drool drenching his chin. Yet, amidst the chaos, you hold onto an unwavering belief. Levi still resides somewhere deep within this untamed creature. You refuse to lose hope.

He's in there. You know it.

With utmost tenderness, you cradle his face in your hands, your fingertips delicately trailing along his cheek in a loving caress. The sensation of the warm, viscous black tears beneath your thumb serves as a bittersweet reminder of his struggle. “Come on. Come back to me,” you plead, yearning for his return.

As you continue to stroke his cheek, a flicker of response ripples through the taut muscles beneath your touch. His empty eyes flutter momentarily, revealing a glimpse of the Levi you know. But then, without warning, a hiss escapes his lips, and he snaps at your hand, teeth gnashing dangerously close.

In that moment, a realization dawns upon you like a burst of light. Hange’s unconventional theories about the WildOnes and their vulnerability to sunlight flood your thoughts. You recall Levi recounting his own experience of regaining control after succumbing to the wildness within. He'd woken in the warmth of the sun.

With unwavering determination, you anchor your feet firmly onto the rocky ground, summoning every ounce of strength within you. Straining against the resistance, you exert a tremendous effort, pulling at his shoulders with all your might, desperate to drag him away from the suffocating depths of the cave. His squirming body resists, driven solely by instinct, as he mindlessly fights against your persistent tugs. The intensity of the struggle heightens, and he snaps dangerously close to your face, a stark reminder of the perilous situation.

Then, as if reacting to an unseen force, a primal fear, his behavior undergoes a sudden shift. As the soft morning beams pierce through the darkness, tenderly caressing his bare skin, a profound change takes place. In an instant, he recoils, his body convulsing with a guttural hiss that reverberates loudly in the cavern. It is as if the gentle touch of sunlight upon his back is akin to scalding water, causing a visceral reaction of discomfort and pain.

With a grunt of exertion, you persist in your relentless effort, refusing to yield as you continue to haul him across the uneven terrain. Step by laborious step, you traverse the rugged path until finally reaching the heart of a small meadow. There, bathed in the gentle embrace of the morning light, his entire form is fully exposed to its warm radiance.

In a fleeting moment of anticipation, his once vacant grey eyes flicker into view, offering a glimpse of familiarity before the luminous white glow engulfs them once more. A surge of mixed emotions wells within you as hope intermingles with trepidation. However, any flicker of recognition is swiftly overshadowed by his growls, his attempts to push you away, and his desperate scramble towards the mouth of the cave.

In a desperate attempt to prevent him from escaping, you summon every ounce of your newfound strength and determination, refusing to let him slip away. With tears streaming down your face, you hold onto him tightly, resolute in your resolve. Your voice trembles with raw emotion as you plead with him, your words laced with desperation, “Don’t leave me. Please! Don’t leave me!”

Despite the pain clearly wracking his form, he gives up on his violent struggle to get away, abruptly shoving you into the damp grass with force. Looming over you, a chilling growl escapes his lips as he snaps at your face, his terrifying demeanor sending shivers down your spine. The painful grip of his nails digs into your shoulders yet again, more blood welling up to paint the ground below. The ominous sound of his rattle fills the air once again, a haunting reminder of the danger that looms within him.

In a sudden hiss, his voice, though distorted and animalistic, carries a hint of familiarity. “Leaave,” he utters, the sound reverberating with anger and frustration.

Refusing to be deterred, you lock eyes with him, searching for a glimmer of the Levi you know resides within. Yet, his eyes remain empty, opaque orbs of white devoid of recognition. Undeterred by the lack of visual confirmation, you cling to the belief that his ability to speak signifies his presence buried beneath the ferocity.

With unwavering determination, you push back against the torrent of despair threatening to engulf you. “You can speak! I know you’re in there,” you assert, your voice quivering but filled with conviction.

His response comes as a guttural snarl, an eruption of anger laced with pain. The word he utters, laden with venomous rage, sends shivers down your spine. “Aaaa-lone.”

Your heart breaks at the words, and you refuse to accept it. Defiance fuels your response as you vehemently protest, “No! I’m not leaving you alone!”

Amidst the turmoil, his voice emerges once more, rough and snarling. “Yyyou left,” he manages to utter, the words carrying both anguish and accusation. It almost sounds like he's sobbing, his voice deep and rough with the change. The trail of sludgy black tears continues to streak down his cheeks, leaving a dark stain upon his neck.

A rush of guilt floods over you, intermingling with your unwavering love and determination. You reach out, your touch gentle yet firm, attempting to wipe away the inky tracks marking his face. He remains still for it, for some reason allowing the touch.

The intensity of your gaze remains fixed upon his eyes, searching for a glimmer of recognition, a flicker of the Levi you hold dear. “I didn’t want to leave. I- I was forced. Captured and kept in a cage,” you confess, your voice heavy with remorse and the weight of unspoken regret. “Please, believe me. I’m here now, and I won’t abandon you.”

Curling your fingers across his back, you tightly embrace him, pressing his face against your neck. His teeth press threateningly against your skin, digging in just slightly, accompanied by a deep and terrifying growl. It's as if he's battling himself. "I love you, Levi. Please, come back to me," you plead.

"Maate lefft," he growls, his voice filled with anger and sorrow.

"I know. I know I did," you whisper softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and running your fingers soothingly through his hair. He trembles in your embrace, and the grip around your neck gradually loosens. "I'm sorry for leaving you all alone."

Though he has calmed down considerably, his chest still rises and falls with erratic breaths. The muscles in his back twitch beneath your touch, hinting at the lingering echoes of pain coursing through his body.

Cupping the nape of his neck, you firmly lift his head to meet his hollow, hungry gaze. His fangs remain bared wide, a stark reflection of his primal state, as he exhales long, airy breaths that brush against your face.

You kiss him, teeth clashing awkwardly against his in a loud clack. Shocked, his breath catches audibly. Wide empty white eyes burn painfully into your soul, so you close your eyes and adjust, pulling his bottom lip between your own.

Levi’s entire body goes still, as if frozen in time. Every part of him, from the tips of his fingers to the end of his tail, stiffens beneath your touch. It's as if he's become stone. Yet, you persist, desperately keeping your lips pressed against his.

Suddenly, a surge of energy courses through the bond between you, reigniting the connection that had seemingly gone silent. The painfully silent void in the back of your mind roars back to life. The mark on your neck tingles and flutters, as if awakening from a long slumber.

The stillness ends abruptly, as if a switch has been flipped, and Levi’s lips suddenly begin to move against yours. They glide smoothly, initially with a slow and superficial touch, almost hesitant. However, a pleased hum escapes into your mouth, fueling the growing intensity between you.

His sharp nails retract from your shoulders, gliding out of your skin with a slight sting. His hands delicately cup your shoulders, their touch surprisingly gentle.

As you melt into the kiss, a profound sense of relief washes over you, echoing in a contented sigh. Levi responds with a deep, reverberating hum, the sound harmonizing with your own release. In a mesmerizing display, the signs of his transformation begin to fade away, as if melting into nothingness. A deep shudder ripples through his body, causing the menacing spikes that once adorned his back to liquefy, resembling melting ice.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into Levi’s eyes, relieved to see them returned to their normal state. The soft grey orbs now bear the weight of his inner turmoil, but at least they are familiar, grounding you in the presence of the Levi you’ve missed so dearly.

“You’re back! You’re back!” you exclaim, unable to contain your joy and relief. “Levi, I missed you so much.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Levi presses his face against your neck, seeking solace in your embrace. He exhales your name, a mixture of grief and relief evident in his voice. In that moment, you both find comfort in each other’s arms.

Levi holds you with an almost desperate grip, as if afraid to let go, his chest pressed tightly against yours. He rests his ear against your chest, listening intently to the steady rhythm of your heart. His voice trembles as he speaks, his words weighted with anguish. “You… you left. I couldn’t find you. I thought…”

Interrupting his words, you interject, a mix of concern and confusion furrowing your brow. “You thought I left you? Why would you ever think that? I love you!”

Levi lets out a heavy sigh, uncertainty evident in his voice. “I… I don’t know what I thought. You were just gone suddenly. I panicked. After a while, I started fearing the worst, thinking you might have died.”

Your heart aches at his admission, and you reach up to cup his cheek gently. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But I would never leave you willingly, Levi. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you.”

Levi’s grip tightens, finding solace in your touch and reassurance. “I thought the same thing,” you continue, your voice filled with empathy. “I couldn’t sense you through our bond. No thoughts, nothing. It was like a void, and it terrified me.”

"Where did you go?" he asks, concern lacing his voice. "I tried to follow your scent trail, but it led up into the mountains. As I climbed higher, things began to look strangely familiar, and then... I can't recall what happened next. I was already so overwhelmed and desperate, I must have..." His voice trails off, realizing the gaps in his memory.

He had gone Wild. The memory of his empty white eyes still haunts you, burning at the back of your mind.

With a gentle stroke of his hair, you express your gratitude. “Thank you for coming to save me,” you say softly. “I know it must have been difficult for you, especially during your heat, to go up the mountain and try to find me.”

“What happened?” Levi’s warm breath against your neck stirs a mix of emotions within you. The soft flicker of his tongue across the skin of your mark sends shivers down your spine, but his curiosity is evident as he questions, “You smell odd?”

With a tender caress, you gather your thoughts before continuing. “Do you remember the shapeshifter from last year? The baby?” Levi nods, his nose gently brushing against your skin, indicating his recollection. “I ran into her mother. Or, rather, it found me.”

His surprise is palpable as he gasps, his voice filled with concern. “What? It attacked you?”

A heavy breath escapes your lips, and you try to steady your voice. “It kidnapped me. It held me captive in a cage for who knows how long.”

Levi’s eyes widen with disbelief. “A cage? It wasn’t Wild?”

Shaking your head slightly, you reply, “No, it was startlingly smart. It taunted me with terrifying threats, as if it derived some sick pleasure from my fear.”

Levi’s grip tightens around you, his protective instincts flaring up in response to your words. His voice quivers with remorse as he apologizes, his guilt weighing heavily on him. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you.”

Frowning, you shake your head, refusing to let him shoulder the blame. “No, no, no,” you insist, your voice filled with reassurance. “It’s not your responsibility to protect me. I should've-.”

But before you can finish your sentence, Levi’s breath catches in a shuttered gasp. His eyes widen with a mixture of concern and fear as he anticipates your response. “Up there… cages… were you held…?” he asks, his voice trembling.

Your heart sinks, knowing that you can no longer hide the truth from him. With a wince, you reluctantly reveal a fragment of what you endured. “Yeah,” you confess, your voice tinged with sadness. “It made that place its home after you killed all of the handlers.”

“It.. ate everyone who was left in those cages. It planned to do the same with me.” You don't want to tell him about his mom. You should, you know you should, but it feels like that information would be too much for him right now. Maybe later.

His shoulders stiffen, the muscles of his back shuddering with a terrifying strength. The remnants of Wildness still lingering, Levi emits a growl that resonates with a terrifying depth. “I’ll fucking kill it.”

But before he can make any rash decisions, you interject, your tone filled with a somber acceptance. “You’re too late. I already did.”

“What?” In surprise, his head raises from your neck. You meet his eyes for the first time since the Wildness faded. Levi’s eyes widen, a mix of astonishment and horror flickering across his face.

“The… the whites of your eyes… they’re gone. They’re black,” he stammers, his voice filled with disbelief. Levi’s gaze drifts to the evidence of your transformation, his expression now a mix of shock and confusion. “W-what did you do?”

You take a deep breath, realizing that the truth can no longer be concealed. The weight of your actions hangs heavily in the air as you gather the courage to explain. “When I faced the shapeshifter… I did something, something I probably shouldn’t have. I don’t regret it, but I became something else.”

With tenderness, you cup Levi’s cheeks, gently wiping away the traces of black sludge on his skin with your thumbs. “I’ll tell you about it later,” you promise, not wanting to burden him with the details just yet. “It- It's too much right now.”

Levi’s eyes reflect a mixture of concern and confusion as he processes your words. His emotions mirrored in his gaze, he listens intently as you continue shakily, “I… I think I’m half-Wild. I don’t know how it happened. I can feel its presence clawing at the back of my mind.”

Fear flickers across Levi’s face, his worry for you evident in his voice. In an attempt to reassure him, you hurriedly add, “But I’m in control! I haven’t lost myself to the Wildness. I’m still me, and I’ll fight to keep it that way.”

Fingers shaking, you hold your still blood-soaked claws in front of your face. Your voice quivers with vulnerability as you confess, “When I killed the shapeshifter, I wanted to eat it. It was so hard to fight the urge.” The admission hangs in the air, exposing the raw truth of your internal struggle.

With wide eyes, Levi absorbs your words, his expression a mixture of understanding and compassion. He reaches out to gently touch your hand, his touch grounding you in his unwavering support. “Do you think you could love me like this? Half monster?” you ask, your voice filled with insecurity.

Levi’s features soften, a tender smile gracing his lips. His voice is filled with conviction as he replies, “I don’t give a shit about how you look or what you are. As far as I'm concerned, you're the same person you always were. I’m just happy that you’re okay.”

His words pierce through your insecurities, melting away any doubts that lingered within you. A surge of gratitude and love swells within your chest, and you find yourself wrapped in Levi's embrace once again, feeling the warmth and acceptance radiate from him.

You find comfort in Levi’s words, his unwavering support grounding you amidst your uncertainties. His assurance brings a small smile to your lips. “Me too, I'm so glad that you're back. I thought I'd lost you forever. I didn't know what I was going to do.” You couldn't even imagine having to kill him, to keep others safe from his Wild wrath.

As you consider the implications of your transformed state, you can’t help but express your concerns. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. I can’t guide villagers back like this. Will our friends even accept me?”

Levi’s lips press against your cheek, his affectionate gesture easing some of your worries. His voice carries a hint of amusement as he responds, “They will. I think you’ll have to beat Hange off with a stick actually. The kids too.” He offers a brief moment of levity amidst the heaviness of the situation, reminding you that there are people who care deeply for you and will embrace you no matter what.

Levi’s lips brush against your cheek, a tender gesture that reassures you of his presence. However, his gaze shifts to the bloodstains on both of you, and his expression twists with worry and horror. His concern is palpable as he voices his anxieties. “What did I do while I was Wild? Do you know how long…”

Quickly, you interject, wanting to ease his worries. “It’s from me,” you soothe him with a white lie, hoping to divert his attention away from the truth.

However, your attempt to reassure him doesn’t yield the response you had hoped for. “I hurt you,” he mumbles sadly. Levi’s worry deepens, his fingers curling shakily around your shoulders. His touch grazes the crusty bloodstains on the fabric, his frown etched deeply on his face as he pinches one of the many holes between his fingers.

Your wounds have already healed, but you don’t want him to blame himself. “No, no,” you reassure him, patting his shoulder softly. “You didn’t hurt me. In fact, you actually recognized me.”

Confusion replaces some of the worry in his features as he tries to make sense of the situation. “Then what?” he asks, gesturing at the mess of blood between you.

“It’s just leftover from the shapeshifter,” you lie, hoping to alleviate his guilt. “When I confronted it, there was a struggle, and some blood splattered on me, which rubbed on you when you tackled me. But I’m fine, Levi, and that’s what matters.”

Levi doesn’t seem to completely believe you, his features twisting is disbelief, but you can sense his desire to trust your explanation. He clearly doesn't want to think about what he did while his mind was lost, and you don't really want to either. The source of the blood must remain a mystery, for both of your sakes.

He wiggles closer, seeking solace in your embrace, and presses his face back into the hollow of your neck. The comforting clasp of his tail wraps around your waist, a familiar touch that brings a sense of reassurance you didn’t realize you had missed. In this moment of vulnerability, Levi’s voice trembles as he speaks, sounding quiet and childlike. “C-can we go home?”

A small smile graces your lips as you gaze at Levi, your affection for him evident. “Yeah,” you readily agree, your voice filled with weariness. You gently stroke his back, feeling the weight of the long day settle upon you. “That sounds amazing. Let’s go home.”

You're exhausted, and Levi looks equally wrung out, but home sounds perfect, even if the journey will be long and tiring. It’s silly, but it feels like the soft embrace of his bed and some time wrapped up together could fix everything. Leaning forward, you try to catch his lips in another kiss, but your fangs bump against his top lip.

“Oops, sorry,” you rush to apologize, your fingers grazing the faint red mark left behind.

Levi surprises you with a snorting laugh, his amusement cutting through the fatigue. His hand finds the nape of your neck, gently guiding and tilting you to create a better connection. “It’ll just take some practice. We’ll adjust,” he reassures you, his warm smile melting away any lingering embarrassment or worry. In that moment, as his lips meet yours in a soft and tender kiss, there’s a familiarity and tenderness that sweeps away the fatigue, leaving behind only a deep sense of comfort and affection.

“I love you,” you express once again, the words flowing effortlessly from your lips. The intensity of your emotions washes over you, bringing forth tears of happiness and relief. They gather at the corners of your eyes, tracing a delicate path down your cheeks.

Leaning forward, you close the distance between you and Levi, pressing your lips against his in another chaste and tender kiss. In that simple gesture, time seems to stand still, as you savor the sweetness and gentleness of the exchange.

Sighing heavily, Levi’s eyes flutter briefly, his response filled with genuine emotion. He reciprocates your affection with a quick kiss to your cheek, a tender gesture that carries the weight of his feelings. His hand cups your cheek softly, his thumb gently tracing the line of your tears, a tender act that conveys comfort and understanding.

With a gentle look in his eyes, Levi murmurs, “Love you too,” his voice infused with sincerity and unwavering devotion. His lip wobbles, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears, revealing the struggle he faces in containing his emotions. “I missed you so much,” he confesses, his voice quivering with a profound mix of sadness and relief. His longing for you echoes in his words, resonating deeply within your heart.

Levi’s forehead comes to rest against yours, seeking solace and support in your shared closeness. He takes a long, shaky breath, his chest rising and falling against yours, as he finds strength in your presence. The tenderness in his gaze reflects the depth of his love, silently affirming his unwavering support for you.

Softly, he urges, “Come on,” rising from his position and extending a helping hand to lift you up and towards the nest.

Interlacing your fingers with his, you tug him away. “You don’t need to see that,” you say gently, wanting to shield him from the sight of the unintentional mess he has inadvertently caused.

“But what about our belongings?” he questions, his brow furrowing with concern.

“It’s just stuff,” you reassure him with a shrug, your voice filled with conviction. “I have everything I need right here.” Smiling, you squeeze his hand tightly, emphasizing the profound connection you share. Without hesitation, Levi follows your lead, intertwining his fingers with yours, solidifying the bond between you.

Playfully bumping his arm with yours, you capture his attention with a mischievous smile. “Maybe it’s time we reconsider spending another winter out here,” you suggest. “Let’s just hibernate at home from now on. It’ll be safer, cozier, and we won’t have to worry about unexpected encounters.”

Levi’s frown deepens as he considers your words. “That might be for the best,” he agrees, acknowledging the practicality of the idea. “I’ll miss this place though.”

A soft hum escapes your lips, reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and a readiness for new beginnings. “Me too. Me too,” you respond, casting a final glance over your shoulder at the fading sight of the cave. The grip of your hand tightens around Levi’s, and he reciprocates the gesture, a silent reassurance of unity and strength.

With life once again taking a significant turn, you turn your gaze forward and head into The Maw, towards home.

...

....

.....

As you and Levi make your way up the far side of the mountain, oblivious to the lingering danger, a sinister presence stirs within the facility you had just escaped. Unbeknownst to you, the lifeless body of the shapeshifter you had slain undergoes a grotesque transformation.

Beneath the hole you had pierced through its neck, the skin begins to swell and bulge, glowing with an eerie luminosity. Slowly, it splits open, revealing thin, black writhing limbs that extend outward. The creature emerging from the shapeshifter’s corpse is small, no larger than the palm of a human hand, completely covered in black with countless furry tentacle strands encircling its form. It is a wet, sticky mass of limbs, devoid of any discernible features.

In a chilling display, the tentacles shift aside, unveiling an open cavern lined with rows and rows of needle-like teeth. This gruesome sight reveals the true nature of this abomination—it is a merciless predator, and its first meal is the lifeless body of its own mother.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, this new horror lurks in the shadows, a sinister presence biding its time, growing and awaiting an opportunity to unleash its malevolence upon the world.