#feral human carrier au

[witchofthesouls]

In the Bayverse feral human carrier au, I really love the idea that Optimus carries you around on his shoulder.

Cybertronians are able to shift their frames on a micro-scale level, so he's able to produce a contained area with enough holds and comfortable for you to rest. Plus, with your newfound enhanced body, your grip strength has been greatly enhanced and you unconsciously manipulate your own electromagnetic fields to produce a magnetic effort to stick in place.

(Optimus thinks that you know that you're doing that, so he gets later confused when you complain about losing car keys to a rental car, so that's another conversation that happens.)

It keeps you and everyone else out of trouble because of the effects of bridging the human lizard brain and Cybertronian feral-protocols. You're basically a living detector for Cybertronians, while the nearby mechs can't help but be keenly aware of your pinging distressed presence. This keeps your hyperactive fight-or-flight reaction under control, and gets the other mechs to back off since Optimus essentially wrangles and modulates your and newspark's fields -it calms the instinct to flee the vicinity or make a mean attempt to swim away from the Diego Garcia base.

(On a side note, Sam tried to perch on Bumblebee as well, but nearly pancakes himself because he doesn't have magnetic abilities. Mikaela has it recorded.)

[transingthoseformers]

Now that i think of it you can say that in the tfp au kindled Cybertronians go through metamorphosis

Most of these things are just completely unknown about in the tfp au, but a lot of it will be recorded as Silverlight grows up (and as the whole additive thing comes to live and as the study of kindling is further documented and researched in the future) I'm gonna make this as bearable to read as possible, using indentations and rainbow text my beloved

Naturally, kindling isn't as immediately easy as being created from the Allspark. But, like, I mean this in the way that the statistics would be wildly skewed from the Allspark as that wasn't supposed to be as heavily relied on as it was (well let's be real Solus wasn't quite meant to die but Primus said "fuck it let's use this to try again" and had intended this to be merely a way to establish an initial population) bUT, of course, they relied on the Allspark too much. The Quintessons saw this as the superior (and more controllable) method of reproduction and implimented this rhetoric along with the caste system. Canonically i believe the whole asexual ritual methods of mass producing sparked mecha was fucked with? Anyways this was a major factor in the Allspark petering out and making Cybertron go dark.

Kindling as a process, from what you may be able to guess, is sexual reproduction and is more familiar to us because uwu convergent evolution. Spike go into valve, overload, (not sure if i want to also include spark merging into this baby recipe or not), and there you go you're knocked up. Now, here is where things vary a lot based on not only environmental factors and genetics, but also the frametypes of the creators and plain old chance. The frametype factors are mostly for size reasons, bigger parents will often mean a sparkling that will be marginally bigger and gestate for longer. In general, a carrying Cybertronian will show less than say a human would and would have an easier time with emergence (which again would vary on the carrier/sparkling size ratio, ie example how Megatron didn't give any outwardly visible chance. A lot of things contributed to Silverlight's relatively short gestational period)

(I'll leave the further effects of kindling, carrying, emergence, and raising sparklings on the adult mecha involved¹)

After emergence, sparklings start out as small, silver with white optics as they lack pigment and squishy, heavily reliant on their creators for pretty much everything. They cannot move all that much, so they magnetically cling to their parents (the majority of kindled mecha will lose this ability as they approach the next stage, but some lose it later than that— with V few actually retaining it all the way into adulthood!) Soon after creation, sparklings will begin to use binary to communicate their needs/emotions, which the carrier will reciprocate to comfort and find said sparkling. Yes, all mecha are onlined with this binary, but outside of childhood and parenthood it's considered a little silly to use binary to communicate. The structures that allow the binary are separate from the rest of the vocalizer, so if one was damaged then the other method of communication is still available (this is my tfp au explanation for Bumblebee's whirping I suppose?)

To a lanky feral child who's just starting to get their pigments in and developing more defining traits. They start to molt for a variety of reasons, but it's a subtle and slow process that's akin to paint peeling off. It varies from sparkling to sparkling on how it feels, some feeling exactly nothing during this process and some finding it a little itchy. During this phase they become far more active and well feral. If they're destined to develop sharp bits, that's exactly what starts to harden first (to many creators' and medics' chagrin) During this stage, the sparkling will need to injest metals and minerals, which will spur upon the third annoyance of this stage: a strong urge to chew on just about everything. It's not for the same reasons as humans, considering Cybertronian sparklings online with dentae, but many could compare it to such. In most cases, the sparkling should feel no pain in this stage unless it makes the unfortunate decision to bite into something that's too hard for it. If the sparkling's chewing processes seem to be impeded in any way or are never initiated, medics advise an immediate doctor time and intervention. Rarely, a sparkling will be unable to gain the important nutrients in this stage and specialized injections will be needed.

Later on, the sparkling will start to become a youngling, as their weight starts to catch up with the growth of the rest of their frame. Their temperament starts to stabilize and the chewing ceases². The armor finishes hardening as their kibble is pretty much set but they still aren't done growing, starting to look more like the typical mecha we see if in general having a young vibe to them. Occasionally, the hardening process will take longer, and uwu should be supervised in case of underlying issues. Some kindled mecha will be observed in which some of their plating never hardens, which can/will lead to issues in their adult life, but said mecha can live a happy and fulfilling life. Fuck with a mech for having areas of soft playing and you're an asshole

Then, well, bing bang boom adult Cybertronian who is pretty much identical to cloned mecha or ones from the allspark. The frame abnormalities I've mentioned in above entries are actually identified in some Allspark sparked mecha, though their versions of aforementioned divergences don't develop over time and they are onlined in their fully developed frame with them. Records of times past seem like they indicate these as resent developments, but delving further shows that before the renaissance of kindling adjacent science shows a lot of undiscussed ableism towards such mecha (with many newly sparked mecha being written off as defective or glitched, and excluded from the texts³)

Afterwards, we get the more or less equivalent of late teen stage in organics where young Cybertronians visually are as grown as they're getting without a full frame upgrade. Though, the internals and processor still need to stabilize and you know what I'm going to say "if this organ stabilization process continues into adulthood please tell your pitforsaken PCP as it probably means shit's fucked for some reasons, organs are not supposed to move".

¹_Shortly after the sparkling's emergence, the protective programs kick in. If i were to compare them to human levels of instinct, WOW is it turned up tenfold (though as I've mentioned before in other entries, this can and will vary. Deadbeat moms still happen, just like in humans🥰) Often the sire[s] will also, as well as some mecha who are considered entirely unrelated to all of the above! The mindfuck that is a whirlwind of algorithms will usually fade as time goes on. Though, medics should be aware of the rare condition of these algorithms not self terminating, as it could lead to or be indicative of various issues. During the first couple years the algorithms could lead to the slightly hilarious phenomenon of the carrier misidentifying select organics for sparklings, as say juvenile humans have a very similar EM field to sparklings. Sometimes the sire(s) can find themsel(f/ves) mimicking this behavior, although most of these cases of the sire(s) mimicry is entirely psychological.

²_It is medically advised to plan a visit if they reach the youngling stage and are still chewing, as this could be signs of an underlying deficiency or various other problems. There are cases of mecha retaining this behavior through adulthood, and it's even documented in some sparked mecha! If all medical reasoning is ruled out, this pica is considered a frame quirk and parties involved are advised to watch for problems but otherwise it's not an issue

³_ I highly expect that as the truce and peace goes on and millennia pass, talking about mental health issues and frame divergences becomes more normalized. Especially because of how so damn many autobots and Decepticons having PTSD. Also because I say so, and ~projection~ as I further lean into medical hell.

[scorpio-system]

oh right we keep tagging stuff as “Noxia” but idk if we posted much abt it yet??

world buildy rambling under the cut

It’s a world riding atop the back of a world turtle. Noxia is in a constant state of gentle twilight, day/night cycle being more like sunset/dark cycle. There’s no humans on Noxia, at least not anymore. Instead it’s inhabited by merfolk, gorgons (with tentacle hair instead of snake hair, and a gaze that destroys magic and strips enchantments rather than turns people to stone), arachne (spider taurs), various forms of undead (zombies and vampires being the main ones), and other less prominent races like turtlefolk and brownies.

The world turtle often has dreams and subconscious thoughts coalesce within Noxia as wispy, ghostlike entities. These “Thoughtforms” come in many shapes and sizes, but are mostly frail and meandering things. Sometimes the world turtle’s nightmares become thoughtforms, however. Those ones are genuinely dangerous. The farther north you go (Closer to the turtle’s head) the more common these entities become, with the farthest north regions being totally uncharted due to the unreliability of navigating a place where reality and dream blend into one.

The merfolk have a few major cities, but the main culture our Noxia drawing/writing focuses on is Tidewash. A city of scholars and scientists nestled within a well protected estuary, it’s both a hub for research and a safe haven for merfolk and seafarers alike. Kora Lai was born and raised here, but eventually left the city to live on her own doing field research (truth be told this was partly motivated by her hatred for crowds and inability to socialize.)

Gorgons are mostly found in one massive city-state and its surrounding towns and hamlets. The city of Au-Marais is known for its strict government, caution around outsiders, and borderline paranoid militia. Many people choose to live outside the city as well, though. These gorgons either seek a quiet life elsewhere, or just moving to another major urban center entirely. Silvia used to be an Au-Marais gorgon, but her reckless personality and boisterous nature led her to move to Tidewash, where she eventually met Kora Lai (The two dated for a while, but it ended disastrously.)

Arachne make their home in a sprawling, ancient forest. Rather than a city of timber and stone, they live along an ancient communal nest called the Lifeweb. Old growth trees, hollow trunks, silk-lined burrows, and web-spun huts comprise the interior spaces linked by a dizzying array of bridges and ropeways. Arachne culture puts a great value on life and one’s spirit. The Lifeweb’s silk itself contains the spirits of countless departed souls, who exist to guide their descendants with ancestral wisdom. Rapnix is a Charnel Priestess, an Arachne with the role of calling on these spirits for advice as well as easing the recently deceased into their new forms.

Noxia’s other dead don’t always stay that way. It’s not that rare for those who die and either go unburied or without a proper cermony return after several days. Zombies are often ostracized by the living, viewed as disease carriers at best and cursed bringers of bad luck at worst. The undead who don’t wander into the wilderness and go feral will form villages and communes away from danger. There is one exception to this rule, the gloomy metropolis of Ambard. A sprawling maze of ancient brickwork, murky canals, half-forgotten tunnels and alleyways, Ambard makes a perfect home for a cadaver looking to settle down. It’s here that Mavis decided to make her home, turning it from a run down city in decline to a thriving safe haven for her fellow undead. Ambard was a human settlement once upon a time, in the ancient days when humans lived on Noxia.

Regarding Humans, Noxia’s humans died out long ago after a cataclysmic war between the old human city state of Sulenage and the expansionist angels of Golgotha. Olfin, the last king of Sulenage, had struck a deal upon discovering a portal to Golgotha, but the angels’ end of the bargain became more untenable over time until the two sides fought to the death. The link to the angels’ plane was severed, but Sulenage and the surrounding region was completely obliterated. This region is now known as the Deadlands, and only fools and outcasts seek to make their home there. And the now Angel-Obsessed Silvia fancies herself as both...

While the majority of the Noxia gang is from the plane themselves, Pylah and Scab are from the neighboring dimension of Golgotha. If Noxia is situated on a world turtle, Golgotha is sort of a... “World Barnacle” attached to it. It’s a totalitarian theocracy where “Angels” of varying forms work endlessly to support the rule of the three powerful ruling figures collectively referred to as their God. Pylah was a member of the lowly Angel caste, acting as a common officer. Scab was a member of the Cherub caste, acting as courier and attendant.

[falloutstasis]

List of Perks that sona has that i might use in the story au that fits the sona story wise

by fallout 4 she'll have all of these perks

Fallout 3

Scrounger - Considerably more ammunition in containers

Mister Sandman - Sneak 60 - Can instantly kill a sleeping non-player character and earns bonus XP

Robotics Expert - Science 50 - +25% damage to robots, can shut down robots by sneaking up on them

Fast Metabolism - +20% Hit Points restored with stimpaks

Chem Resistant - Medicine 60 - Half as likely to get addicted

Power Armor Training - Learned from Paladin Gunny in the Citadel or by completing Operation: Anchorage! - You're now able to wear any form of power armor.

During Broken Steel

Rad Tolerance - EN 7 - No effects from minor radiation poisoning (still gives alert)

Fallout: New Vegas

Friend of the Night - PE 6, Sneak 30 - Your eyes adapt quickly to low-light conditions.

Run 'n Gun - Guns 45 or Energy Weapons 45 - Halved spread with one-handed ranged weapons while walking or running.

Fortune Finder - LU 5 - Considerably more bottle caps will be found in stockpiles.

Hand Loader - Repair 70 - When using Guns, you are twice as likely to recover cases and hulls. You also have all hand load recipes unlocked at any reloading benches.

Vigilant Recycler - Science 70 - When using Energy Weapons, you are twice as likely to recover drained ammunition. You also have more efficient recycling recipes available at workbenches.

Living Anatomy - Medicine 70 - Shows health and Damage Threshold of any target. +5% bonus to damage against humans and non-feral ghouls.

Super Slam! - ST 6, Melee Weapons 45 - All melee (except thrown) and unarmed attacks have a chance of knocking your target down. 15% for Unarmed or one-handed melee, 30% for two-handed melee.

Miss Fortune - LU 6 - 10% chance that Miss Fortune will incapacitate a target in V.A.T.S.

Purifier - You do 50% extra damage with melee and Unarmed weapons against centaurs, night stalkers, spore plants, spore carriers, deathclaws and super mutants.

Meltdown - Energy Weapons 90 - Foes killed by your Energy Weapons emit a corona of harmful energy.

Laser Commander - Energy Weapons 90 - You do an extra 15% damage and have a 10% extra chance to critically hit with any laser weapon.

Rad Absorption - EN 7 - -1 Rad every 20 seconds.

Friendly Help - Receive 15 Mysterious Stranger or Miss Fortune visits - Mysterious Stranger and Miss Fortune are twice as likely to appear in V.A.T.S.

Wild Wasteland - Adds additional "wacky" content and modifies existing content and random encounters. These will either be bold or in italics as I'll mostly write references.

Fallout 4

Big Leagues - Rank 4 - You now do 80% more melee weapon damage and hit all targets in front of you.

Blacksmith - Rank 3 - You gain access to Rank 3 melee weapon mods.

Lead Belly - Rank 3 - You take no radiation from eating or drinking.

Ghoulish - Rank 3 - Radiation now regenerates even more of your lost Health, and some Feral Ghouls will randomly become friendly.

Medic - Rank 4 - Stimpaks and RadAway restore all lost health and radiation, and work much more quickly.

Science! - Rank 4 - You gain access to Rank 4 high-tech mods.

also for funsies heres sona's current fallout 4 stats after the events of fallout 4

STR 5

PER 6

END 9

CHR 6

INT 6

AGI 9

LCK 10

[mighty-polynein]

Mighty Nein Dragon AU

Or more specifically, a Temeraire AU. 

Basically, all the Nein are dragons in a low magic world. Dragons are seen as useful beasts in many countries instead of the powerful magical beings typical in D&D. The world is still Exandria, but with a few tweaks based on these changes.

The Mighty Nein are a rogue band of dragons not beholden to any country. Some had riders in the past, but now they have decided to just stick together (and become an epic dragon polycule).

This is a rough size chart (colors not accurate, just to mark who is who). Yasha, Fjord, and Caduceus are heavyweights, Caleb, Beau, Jester, and Essek are middleweights, and Nott/Veth is a lightweight. I stuck a little human in there for reference.

Individual descriptions below.

Yasha still has angelic heritage, just as a dragon. She has feathered wings, which is basically unheard of for dragons. Her backstory is mostly the same, though she was one of the few dragons in her tribe.

Caduceus is a kind of dragon very in tune with the natural magic of the world. This allows him to fly without wings. Most people who see him are baffled by his flight as well as his sheer size. His family tends to the ancient dragon burial site in the Blooming Grove and worships the Wildmother, gaining some magical ability for their faith.

Fjord used to work for the naval division of the Port Damali aerial corps, with Vandran as his captain. He would sail on carrier ships and help defend them from sea serpents, as well as hunt large game like whales. After waking up on shore after his ship exploded, he discovered a new ability - breathing an extremely powerful water jet. He also gained some level of magical ability.

Jester is a Longwing, acid spitting dragon. She grew up with her mother in the Lavish Chateau, headed by her mother. The Chateau is a place for dragons to visit the famous Ruby of the Sea for her expert company, as well as stay the night in the large pavilions there. After angering a local dragon lord, she had to flee into the world. 

Her friend the Traveler grants her some divine powers, and sometimes goes on flights with her. If anyone asks who her captain is, she says “the traveler”.

Beau grew up as part of a rich family’s property in Kamordah, a situation her father agreed to long ago. Her family was used for maintaining the vineyards and flying around the nobles and their products. She naturally grew sick of this and started causing trouble, at which point her father had the Cobalt Soul take her. 

The Cobalt Soul is one of the only places in the Empire where dragons are treated as equals with humanoids, and are tasked with memorizing vast amounts of knowledge in their long lifespans. They also guard the libraries against danger. Beau resented being brought there against her will, but still learned much at their hands.

Caleb is a firebreather. He was born to feral dragons in the wild, but his egg was found by two humans, Una and Leofric Ermendrud. He was raised by them in secret for some time before the Empire found him and conscripted him into the Aerial Corps. He was put under Trent Ikithon, who was experimenting on the dragons in his care with Celestial shards in an attempt to give them the magic wielded by the Celestial dragons in Xhorhas.

When he ‘broke’ during his final test, Caleb was put in the Vergesson Dragon Grounds, a place to dump dragons the Empire can’t use. He spent his time there holed up in a cave and didn’t interact with the other dragons much, though he doesn’t remember it. He escaped some time later and wandered the Empire wilderness as a feral.

Veth Brenatto was a halfling woman living in Felderwin with her family, before she angered the local dragon ferals raiding her village, who had her cursed into one of them. She met up with Caleb and they lived together in the wilderness before meeting the Nein. She wants to return to her original form and reunite with her family, though she has learned to enjoy being a dragon and also wants to remain with her friends.

She wears lots of jewelry and trinkets too, which I didn’t draw.

Essek is a Celestial dragon living in the Kryn Dynasty, a land ruled by the Celestial Bright Queen. Celestials have magical ability, something extremely rare in dragons. They are born so infrequently that they are seen as holy and are the ruling class of the Dynasty. The Kryn worship the Luxon, and Celestial eggs are kept next to the beacons as they incubate in order to absorb its magic. 

Essek still traded two beacons to the Empire in hopes of understanding them more, but he also gave them the shards of some hatched Celestial eggs. When he met the Mighty Nein, he taught Caleb how to further develop the magical ability given to him by Trent’s experiments.

~~~

The Mighty Nein meet up close to how they did originally, just with more suspicion of them because they’re dragons. Molly is a middleweight, probably a longwing like Jester though I still need to draw him. 

They travel around as dragon mercenaries, becoming a very powerful independent band. They bond very strongly with each other and become very close, with all sorts of relationships connecting them in a polycule. 

Because it’s my AU I get to make it Polynein >:)

@polynein-week​

[tiesthatbind-tf]

I have two new questions: Wouldn't Onyx Prime be African because of Eukaris more closely related to African traditions? And what would your version of Cyclonus look like and what ethnicity he would be?

Nope! Because I'm not using the extremely convoluted history IDW has for the characters/world before the main story. Onyx here is not Shockwave in disguise, he's much closer to the Aligned/Fun Publications version of the character. Eukaris exists but it's sort of a central homeland state created specifically for Beast Men where all variants of them would receive equal treatment (This is due to the fact that even in places where some of them were well-accepted, others were not, as an example Bird-style beast men being revered in Japan as 'Tengu', while fox-style beastmen were always pegged as tricksters and bear-style Beastmen were outright demonised outside of Ainu culture).

Beast Men in Ties That Bind are also not associated with a single culture or people.

There's actually a whole page dedicated to the explanation for Beast Men and Eukaris in this AU, I'll include it under a cut since it's long (TW for mentions of Human Trafficking and general dehumanization).

I haven't as of yet decided anything on Cyclonus!

BEAST MEN

A new subset of humanity which occurred during the Quintesson Invasion, Beast Men (Homo Bestia) were the product of genetic experimentations on humans and animals alike by Quintesson scientists in the early days of the invasion.

The exact nature or reason behind these grotesque experiments have yet to be fully understood but from what little has been translated from salvaged texts, it is believed that they were conducted to better understand the strengths and weaknesses of earth’s indigenous lifeforms and to create a robust ‘working animal’ for strip-mining and slave labour purposes by combining traits between them.However much of the early experimentation yielded less than satisfactory results; The Beast Men despite their enhanced strength were often wilder in nature and even more defiant than standard humans, with some unable to adapt to their heightened senses causing them to lash out at all stimuli.

Many were terminated as failed experiments while others were kept incarcerated as stock to continue Quintesson research to fine-tune the process.However, many still managed to escape through concerted combined efforts between themselves or were liberated by rebels later on between 1930 and 1945. They took part in the Second Quintesson War under the leadership of Owais Naseem, one of the thirteen heroes of the war and a Horse-Man (Centaur).

The most populous subset of Beast Men comprises of Canids, which make up 20% of their entire demographic due to their purported usefulness as huntsmen, guardsmen and even ‘pets’ to the Quintessons.This is followed by felid (15%), ruminant (15%), avian (10%), rodentia (10%), oceanic (10%)  and others (17%).The rarest type of Beast Men are Insectoid (3%). They usually feel a strong affinity for nature and most commonly reside in South America, Africa, Asia and their established ‘homeland’ of Eukaris.  They are least found (outside of government-commissioned Cold Constructs)  in the USA, France and the UK.

CLASSIFICATIONS OF BEAST MEN

Beast Men are classified into three categories according to a worldwide government census, mostly based on the level of visible mutation.

Class A (‘Humanoid’) Accounts  for 15% of Beast Men.

Mutations are recessive/subtle, mostly centered around eyes, ears. Occasionally will sport claws.

Due to their mostly human appearance, they are better accepted by society with some reaching fame due to their perceived safe but ‘exotic’ looks.

Little to no limitations on personal rights. Mixed marriages with standard humans are allowed but heavily frowned upon due to presiding fear that, as they are still carriers of the animal gene, their mutations will pass down and could become more dominant in their children.

Little to no animal instincts.

Class B (‘Mix’) The most common class accounting for 50% of all Beast Men.

General public perception tends to vary from mild distaste to full on disdain.

Their physiology tends to be animal-like wrapped around a human frame. Anatomy remains mostly human (eg: Having paws or claws, but relegated to human-size and shaped hands or feet).

Allowances made for public transport/spaces with conditions.

Mixed marriages with standard humans banned in most countries.

Overlaps can occur with Class C.

Mild animal instincts.

Class C (‘Feral’) Accounts for 30% of Beast Men.

The class facing heaviest persecution due to their completely non-human appearance. Human traffickers have been documented selling them to hunting parties and reserves.

Full animal traits, including major to full coverage of fur/feathers/scales, tails, teeth, digitigrade legs, etc. Will occasionally sport ‘distorted’ anatomy (like elongated arms for flight or running on all fours) or missing anatomy altogether (legs for snake-men) to better support animal physiology.

Not allowed in public transport and spaces unless clearly designated.

Mixed marriages with standard humans banned in most countries.

Strong animal instincts, however level of intelligence/emotional empathy remains the same as standard humans.

Class D (‘Shifters’) The rarest class, accounts for 5% of Beast Men

Are an offshoot of Class B and C individuals who have the ability to fully shapeshift into animals.

The phenomenon is still being studied.

BEAST MEN IN SOCIETY

Despite their role in helping to win the war, the relationship between Beast Men and modern society is shaky, with a majority of them suffering some form of discrimination from governments and people unwilling to make concessions for them in modern living and personal engagements.

Like Cold Constructs, many of them are seen as second-class citizens who find it hard to rent property due to landlords who insist on a ‘no animals’ rule being applied to them (thus pushing most of them into redlined districts and neighborhoods). Most forms of public transport also bar them entry due to the ‘hassle’ that accommodating all subsets of them would invoke.

More so, the ‘non-domestic’ variants of them are often seen as dangerous or unpredictable due to their enhanced sensitivity to stimuli which would otherwise not affect a ‘normal’ person (and there have been cases of people deliberately overloading their senses to force them to react in a violent manner), and this limits the job market for them as well.

Metropolitan cities, particularly in western countries, place heavy restrictions on their movements in public; Establishments and businesses are allowed to refuse them service or bar them entry if they are seen to be a threat or if the facilities are (often deliberately) not built to accommodate them.

Violence against them is a regular occurrence despite laws being passed to combat the issue and most Beast-Men will only go out in public with a chaperone or in groups for protection from harassment.

Worse yet are the cases of illegal hunting of Beast Men, whether for game or their body parts, which sees a steady demand in the black market.

However, the case isn’t the same in all countries; In many areas of Africa and Asia, certain subsets of Beast Men are mostly accepted as members of modern society.

Snake-Men are a welcomed group in Thailand due to their resemblance to mythical Naga, while Tiger-Men are seen as protectors and a symbol of courage in Malaysia.

Bird-Men receive adulation in most South and South-East Asian countries due to their resemblance to the Garuda, while the same can be said for Japan which sees them as Tengu.

Lion, Leopard and Panther-Men find similar acceptance in African nations, which sees Lion-Men in particular to have been royalty in a past life.

Scotland stands out among western nations due to its granting of full-class citizen status to Wolf-men, affectionately known as ‘Wulvers’, particularly in the Shetland Islands which in turn sees a high population of them compared to other European nations.

That said, as not all Beast Men subsets are accepted to the same level even in countries that accept certain types, a Beast Men-centric state that levies the same rights and acceptance for all subsets, Eukaris, was established in 2004 via extensive terraforming on Queen Maud Land in Antartica.

[scruffypegasus]

Xander Smith and Dereta

Human version of XenoPone Scout and his daemon Dereta

Human Au Known as Xander Smith and his Daemon Dereta (Cheetah) from South Africa, he was a confident, friendly and easy going scout, who liked helping out the new rookie scouts, but hated sitting still for any long periods of time, he always needed to be doing something. Or he'll start getting fidgety, and run laps inside the base if he hasn't been given a task to do....also he's also a little Claustrophobic. When things get a little too much for him, he'll go out for long runs with his Daemon to settle his nerves or to cool off his anger. His 'Day Job' is working at the post office, delivering mail and secret messages under the guise of a mail carrier.  Xander generally worked well with his teammates and his general fighting style was hit and run tactic's, doing his best to run circles around his enemies, sadly though he's not great with taking hit's and will go down easily if cornered. And unfortunately that is what happened when he was attacked by Frank Seaver  (Fatal Ink) who ambushed him when he was trying to escape from 'seeing something he wasn't suppose to' Xander was not killed, badly beaten and captured by the 'Magisterium' he was interrogated and then went through terrible brainwashing to make him one of them, he is now a shell of his former self, though his Daemon still seems to hold onto the last threads of who they were, so when encountering previous allies she'll briefly break free of the control blurting something useful out to her former teammates before returning to being silent. His Teammates really hope that they can one day rescue him and try and reverse the brainwashing.   Clone Au

He and his Daemon are not a Clone of the 'Current' Scout, They are actually Clone of the previous Scout before him (Not Classic Scout, their have been many mercenaries hired by Red and Blue over the year's, and they have couple of different mercenary teams....anyway while other mercenaries may have died a part of them is still in the (CLASSIFIED) and some times a rare respawn failure ends up bringing one of these guys back. Which is what happened with these two. Though the side effect to this is that while they are 'back' they have no memories of who they are or what their doing here(Memories will recover over time), but still have the skills they were hired for. Xander Scout and Dereta were confused on what was happening and got captured by Blue Team (The team he replaced the Scout of) but they didn't get far with trying to pry information from him before (Classified) came in and took Xander Scout back to their secret base where he was going to be 'Studied'. After much research and deciding they could manipulate and use the amnesiac Xander and Dereta, they re-recruited them and were having them work around the base when the 'Freaks' broke containment, during the chaos Xander and Dereta ended up getting knocked out by an unknown attacker. When they regained consciousness they found themselves in a strange cage, a metal barrier keeping them apart as they started trying to figure out how to get out a terrifying voice got there attention Dr.SO was there, with a warped Daemon and a strange ancient looking object in his hands. A never ending smirk on his face as he approach another machine that seems to have cables and wires attached to the the cage they were in, opening up a chamber in the machine removing a strange crystal from is and throwing it to the side and replacing it with the thing in his hands, closing the the chamber and turning to his prisoner's. "Welcome to your new lives!" he says gleefully before turning on the machine. Xander and Dereta can't remember much of the transformation as the pain was too much to bare, they where only saved from the torture when the power from the machine overloaded and caused a blackout but the change done to them had already been too much. Xander now finds his mind seems to fades and becomes zombie like if Dereta goes too far from him, something she can do now. She's much stronger and can do things that were impossible before, like travel further from her partner, but if she's away too long she'll start going feral. The two are much more clingy to each other now since the 'experiment' trying to hold onto what little of their humanity they have left.  Xander and Dereta are currently 'On the Run' from the Scream Fortress Crew and (CLASSIFIED) having used the new found strength and other abilities making escape from the facility easy, but both finding the world they knew is no longer the same and a much more dangerous place to live, having to hide from strange machines that will shoot at them on site (though they seem to do this to any human they come across so it's not just because of their appearance), the two now mostly travel at night gathering what supply's they can, and and hope to find one day a place that are willing to take in the two mutants.

[soldrawss]

Alright, so it's pretty clear which Bab is who, But how oh how did he Obtain these four boys in your Human Rottmnt au?

~SO! Bear with me, there’s a LOT of info here and it kinda turned into a fic half way down so yeah~

In my au, Yoshi is still the famous movie and action star, Lou Jitsu! (In his private life, he goes by Yoshi Hamato, but in the public eye he is Lou Jitsu. Sorta like a Hannah Montana situation) Anyway, while he’s a big-time hotshot, he starts dating fellow hotshot movie star Kuroko Gumo (Big Mama)(I gave her a Japanese name basically meaning spider don’t @ me) They date for a long time and for a while are the celebrity couple of the century... that is, until Yoshi asks Big Mama to marry him. She turns him down in a very public and horrible way (Basically saying that what they had was just a fun fling and also for clout) and leaves Yoshi absolutely wrecked. He becomes incredibly depressed and spirals into unhealthy habits and kinda goes off the deep end. (Showing up to interviews and public events wasted. Sleeping around with lots of other famous celebrities and models. Causing a PUBLIC SCENE literally every time he goes out. It wasn’t a good time for Yoshi OR Lou at ALL. This went on for about 4-5 years on and off.)

Until his ‘manager’ finally hired him a PR agent to put him into shape. (Yoshi had PR agents in the past. But all of them quit after a while of not being able to DEAL with Yoshi’s tantrums) And boy, did this PR agent NOT fuck around. Barry Draxum, though he prefers just Draxum, single-handedly saved Yoshi’s carrier and Lou Jitsu’s image practically overnight. And even though his methods for getting Yoshi to shower before a photoshoot or ‘eat a fucking vegetable Hamato or so help me GOD I will shave your head completely bald and then you’ll have to wear a wig for the rest of filming, do not TEMPT me’ are a little unorthodox, he gets the job done. And even though the two butt heads and bicker on the daily, they end up being a pretty good team, and slowly but surely, Yoshi starts to heal and get better and get his life/career back on track.

That is, until the consequences of his actions came a-knocking. 

It was Draxum who found out first, through a late-night phone call in Yoshi’s living room while the two were discussing a film shoot for later on that week. 

Yoshi had really only seen two sides of Draxum’s emotional range up until that point, and Yoshi was pretty sure he didn’t have any other settings besides passively annoyed and downright fed up, but the look on Draxum’s face, going pale with confusion and concern had Yoshi waiting at the edge of the couch in acute apprehension. The blood in his veins turning to ice under his skin.

It was about a woman named Nia Okoro. A vibrant and outgoing woman, with freckles like constellations dusted on her dark skin and dimples so deep that Yoshi loved to make her laugh just so he could see how deep they’d go. He had had previous relations with her, often seeking her out when he was at his loneliest and lowest points only because she had a personality that was loud and warm, and that could win smiles out of him as easy as breathing. 

But he hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Right before Draxum came around and knocked some sense into him, Yoshi even said so when Draxum asked, worry a knotted, tangled mess in his stomach when he asks why. What’s wrong? Did something happen?

A car accident, Draxum explains slowly like he’s approaching a feral animal and he doesn’t know if it will fight or flee if he approaches with any more information. A semi collided with the driver's side of her car. She didn’t make it. Died on route to the hospital.

Yoshi, Draxum says in a low voice, not giving Yoshi a second to wrap his head around the grief pumping back into his system like an all too familiar and painful drug when he adds, she left behind two sons. And apparently, before she died, she claimed they were both yours.

Yoshi was on the next flight out to Chicago that night, Draxum trailing behind after him trying to get Yoshi to see reason, Hamato. We don’t really know if they’re yours, and even if they were, which is highly unlikely, what are you going to do? You can’t raise children right now, your career is still in a fragile state. YOU’RE still in a fragile state.

But Yoshi wasn’t listening as he takes his window seat, Draxum perfectly harrumphing defeatedly in the seat beside him, and Yoshi spends the next two and a half hours looking out into the cloudless night, not listening to anything but the sound of his own racing heart trying to burst out between his ribcage.

When they get to the hospital, it’s 2:30 in the morning and Draxum has to practically pull Yoshi from slamming his fists down on the reception desk. Draxum had told him it was a longshot that the children would even still be here at this hour, if they even existed at all and weren’t just some wild goose chase of a prank someone was pulling on them, but Yoshi still had to know. Had to make sure.

When Draxum finally manages to explain their situation to the woman at the front desk, it's with a sad but knowing smile when she nods, knowing exactly the children they were looking for, and leads them through the hospital for what feels like endless years to Yoshi till they reach a closed examination room.

Yoshi is greeted by two pairs of almond-shaped brown eyes, one pair wide and bright and the other sleepy and heavy-lidded, and it takes all his strength not to crumble to the hospital floor right then and there.

A little boy was sitting on a large hospital bed, covered in scratches and bruises and head half wrapped in colorful red gauze with yellow stars on it, looks up at Yoshi with watery alert eyes. He clutches at the drowsy infant half asleep in the circle of his arms almost protectively, and it takes another bow of strength from Yoshi to remain calm when the boy bites out a quiet, you can’t take him either. 

Take who away, Yoshi asks back in a voice almost as quiet at the boy’s, and the little boy tightens his hold around the baby. Eyes bright like daggers and mouth thin with a determination that could move mountains, like he wasn’t a child and the ugly road rash and bruising skin under her clothes didn’t exist, when he glares at Yoshi.

Mikey! They took mama away, but you can’t take Mikey too! He’s my baby brother. Mama said I have to protect him, so you can’t take him! You can’t! Please!

It took several weeks and an ocean load of paperwork on Yoshi’s and Draxum’s part, but sure enough, Raphael and Michelangelo Okoro were indeed Yoshi’s sons, and having no other relatives they could go to, were finally allowed to be adopted and come home with the movie star.

Yoshi was whole worlds out of depths with parenthood, having absolutely no experience with children in general prior to his son’s moving in with him, and it showed with every backward diaper and screaming tantrum fit and sleepless night. And Yoshi asked himself about a million and a half times a day if he had gotten over his head. Taken on too much, more than he could handle. If he was cut out to be a dad, let alone a dad they needed, at all.

But Mikey had a giggle that filled up every corner of the room with something warm and delighted, and Raph’s tough and hesitant exterior against Yoshi at first melted into something akin to fierce and toothed love for his baby brother. So he was patient with Yoshi, and taught him all the best tricks to get Mikey to hold still long enough to change his clothes or wash behind his ears with a smile and fondness that downright glowed. And when he finally called out a hey pops to Yoshi, wearing a broad and comfortable confidence and joy like a badge on his chest, Yoshi finally gave in to his emotions and sleep deprivation and cried right there with both of his boys in his arms. 

And he really was awful at being a dad, but dangit if he wasn’t going to try his best anyway because it was so worth it just to have those two pairs of smiling eyes turn his way.

But the experience with Raph and Mikey opened up a pandora's box inside Yoshi’s heart.

Because Raph was four years old. That was four years of Yoshi not knowing he had a son, let alone two... Was it possible that there was more he didn’t know about?

And with the, albeit begrudging, help from Draxum, (Draxum, who had collected the embarrassingly long list of lovers and ex’s from Yoshi and began reaching out to them in inquiry about children and possible visitation rights and the such. Because Yoshi was sure that if he had more children, their situations wouldn’t be like Raph’s and Mikey’s where Yoshi could just take full custody of them. Especially when none of the mothers had ever reached out in the first place) he found that answer out.

It was yes, and the exact number was two more.

Two more sons. One in Seattle and one in San Antonio.

Donatello Martelli was relatively easy to find. His mother, Bria, as beautiful as she was vain and obsessed with her image, didn’t hesitate to point Draxum and Yoshi in the direction of the nearest foster home. Because Bria was not the motherly type, and she never had the patience or tolerance or room in her heart to fit parenthood into her world of glamour and glitz the way Yoshi did. So with what little kindness she had to her name, she put up her son for adoption and wiped her hands clean of what was left of Yoshi’s and her’s short-lived romance.

Donatello, as Yoshi had come to discover, was a handful of a child, but in all the ways that made Yoshi’s heart burst with affection and pride.

He was smarter and craftier than anyone would ever give a 3-year-old credit for, and his short temper and passive boredom towards the world around him was only because he lacked the stimulus and opportunity to shine as brightly as he could. He was in his 8th foster home in that year alone when Draxum had located him; being swapped around from home to home because no one knew how to handle the child's sharp wit and even sharper tongue, and the list of appliances and machines he had ‘destroyed’ had labeled him as a trouble maker and problem child.  

It was only until Yoshi had made the journey to Seattle himself and met the keen-eyed and brazen child that Yoshi discovered just how soft-hearted Donatello truly was. 

He was just curious. That’s all he ever was. Curious and hungry for knowledge and wanting to use that knowledge for good and kind and wonderfully brilliant things.

I wanted to know how the toaster works, Donatello’s admits quietly, more to himself than to Yoshi but Yoshi listens anyway. Mrs. Brown’s burns the toast and Mr. Brown doesn’t like it. I just wanted to see if I could make it better.

Donnie’s adoption was almost too easy, no one willing to put up any fight against Yoshi steadfast resolution, and the bespectacled brown-eyed child thrived in Yoshi’s endless supply of toasters he could take apart and reassemble too his heart's content, and Raph’s and Mikey’s constant adoration and fondness for their newest brother.

It took almost 2 months after Donnie’s adoption for Draxum to even learn about a fourth child, let alone find him.

Maria Guerrero was the only woman they couldn’t reach out to, seemingly dropping off the face of the earth like she had never existed in it to begin with and was just a well-spun fever dream of Yoshi’s past. Draxum had almost exhausted every string he had left to even prove the woman existed, let alone where she was, and it was only because of Yoshi’s begging and pleading and she’s out there somewhere, Barry. Please. I don’t want to give up without knowing for sure, that Draxum kept up the search longer than the 2-month mark. 

And then he had found something. A tiny, sliver of a half baked chance at something and Yoshi clung to it like a lifeline.

I don’t know if it’s anything at all. Maria isn’t even mentioned by name it’s just... with the description you gave and the time frame set... a couple of years ago, there was this child with the last name Guerrero in San Antonio who was left at the hospital just a few hours after he was born. The mother disappeared without a trace and with no explanation, but she matches the description of Maria-

What’s the child’s name, Yoshi finds himself interrupting, a tugging feeling at the bottom of his stomach making him feel equal parts sick and hungry with hope and morbid curiosity.

Leonardo. Leonardo Guerrero. He’d be about 3 now.

Yoshi knew. He just knew. As soon as he stepped out of his car and onto the dusty laneway of the shabby and overpacked halfway home in Texas and walked up to the metal chain-linked fence separating himself from the front yard of children of varying ages and races, he knew. He didn’t even need the owner and self-designated father of the home to point the child out to Yoshi.

Leonardo was a scrawny and scrappy child. The patched-up sweater 3 times his size dropping over limbs covered in bandaids and vitiligo patches alike. His hair was a curly mess, long and tangled and held out of his face by different types of hair clips and scrunchies. He was playing by himself off in the farthest corner of the yard, head down and tracing the ground with a stick, and it wasn’t until the other man called out a thickly accented, GUERRERO, that the boy looked up.

Brown eyes. Brown eyes like Raph’s and Donnie’s and Mikey’s. Brown eyes like Yoshi’s. Round and rich and shining like a spotlight and something clicked inside of Yoshi’s chest. Like the final piece of a long-overdue jigsaw puzzle was finally where it belonged, fitting into the empty spot in Yoshi’s heart like it had always owned a place there, right alongside all the other pieces that had claimed their space within the past few months. 

Yoshi didn’t think his heart could get any fuller. 

But then Leo smiled at him, and Yoshi couldn’t have been more happy to be proven wrong. 

[bigowlenergy]

stuck + lightening

can only describe this as phantom_cringe_comp_ft_electricity.mp4. no angst only Stupid

au where ghosts are feral cats and danny is a tiny menace who keeps needing rescued by the local ghost shelter no details no thoughts head NOT empty full of chaos

X

Since parking his ass firmly on the threshold of death, Danny has done some truly stupid shit. Pulled a couple fast ones on the universe. Did some sick pranks. Partook in a few shenanigans. Had a little fun now and again. Enjoyed himself, even.

So it is only fair for the other end of the stick to smack him in the face eventually.

“Ms. Genevieve, please let me out,” He begs the old woman as she edges her walker around his prone form. She shakes her head sadly at him, huge white curls swaying in pity.

“If you didn’t want to be caught, you shouldn’t have been fooling around, brat.” She says fondly, continuing on her merry way.

“I’ll carry your groceries!” He pleads, wiggling the end of his tail that’s outside the net and trying to track her with his head hanging off the curb. It’s all he can do. Everything else is frozen tight, like he’s full of power and will burst if he moves. He could probably move if he tried really hard, but electricity and Danny have a complicated relationship at the best of times, and even thinking about it too hard right now makes him keen in distress. Ms. Genevieve hasn’t had her hearing aides at a decent volume for the last five years, so Danny feels zero guilt for the half wailing whine that tumbles out of his throat as she abandons him.

It’s not like she knows it’s him - as in, Daniel Fenton, 14 year old human boy who talks to her at the grocery store and engages in egregious amounts of community gossip - but it still stings. Mostly because she’s, like, the third person to walk by so far. The first was Robert Sanchez, harried mail carrier and owner of the most prized weed whacker in town. Then it was Susan Lee, a middle school kid who snapped some pics and ran. People he only knew tangentially, but still.

The garage across the street squeaks as it opens, and Danny waits for the car to finish parking so he can yell at them. Jennifer Yakult makes eye contact, then just blinks and raises Magni from his car seat. Mickey climbs out the passenger side and does a double take. Pulls his phone out of his pocket and crows, loud enough for the entire block to hear,

“Better than a bug zapper, Phantom?”

Danny’s mouth cannot drop open in affront because he is petrified by a ghost animal trap, so he just yells back instead.

“This is harassment!”

Mickey just laughs and keeps his phone up and oh, oh Danny is so going to turn his chair intangible during third period tomorrow, just watch. His mom calls for him to get in the house, heartlessly ignoring the helpless ghost stuck under a ghost trap like a blanket on the concrete across the street.

Okay, now he feels kind of pathetic. Danny musters the willpower to curl his fingers into the netting his hand is caught in and oop. Nope. A weak current of electricity courses through his body like a wave cresting. Fills him to the brim with static. Peaks around his core. Leaves his vision whited out when it fades away softly. His ectoplasm is a nuclear generator and Danny is just surface tension.

Whenever he surfaces, he’s too whacked out on power to notice the shadow hanging over him. He’s also purring. Again.

“Again, Phantom?” A voice bubbles up from a million miles away. Just turn it off, he thinks fuzzily, too overcharged to speak. But maybe he managed it anyway, because the trap shuts off with an abruptness that chokes him.

The fishingline-fine netting should feel like nothing as it’s dragged off him, but in his hypersensitized state it feels like being dragged through concrete. Someone grabs his arms and peels him off the sidewalk, depositing him gently on bare earth and - oh. His keen cuts out instantly.

Danny wriggles his whole body into the gloriously cold and electrically grounding earth like the stupid little ghost worm he is at heart. Phases into the soil and squiggles around in it until he finishes discharging the excess. He still feels like he could power the entire town as a backup generator, but less because he will explode otherwise and more as a side hobby.

Once he feels stable enough to not humiliate himself further, he peeks his head out of the ground. A good sized chunk of Mr. Jhan’s lawn is burned to the quick and a bit torn up from his claws. A squad of GIW are on the sidewalk, snickering at him. One holds a camera.

“You’re welcome, Phantom.” One coos. Danny hisses halfheartedly at them, his whole face burning cold in embarrassment. He flees.

 -

 Danny is not a stupid little baby ghost who can’t handle electricity any more. He’s seventeen! Guiding current and discharging excess power flow is second nature to him now.

It just makes this situation all the more embarrassing.

“We’re almost done, sweetie,” His mom says, petting his hair gently. Danny kind of wants to cry from humiliation. He’s so overcharged that he can’t help the overemotional response to being petted by his mom when he feels this bad, and the nonconductive hazmat helps a little. Everything is too bright and fuzzy, and being upside down doesn’t help with the disorientation any. A whimper slips out at another jolt of movement above him.

“Two more left, Danny-o!” His dad cheers, moving back into his line of sight briefly. He edges around the tree to angle the clippers at another branch. They’re mostly charcoal by now. Tucker sneezes, ash smeared on his cheek, a loop of Danny’s overlong tail laying paralyzed in his hazmat gloves. He’s the only one who can stand still enough to make non-painful contact with Danny in this state, so he’s on detangling duty. Danny loves him so much right now.

“Do you want some dirt?” Sam asks, sounding partially sincere and also like she’s trying not laugh at him but she’s also totally laughing at him. Yes, Danny wants the goddamned dirt. He’s never wanted anything in his entire afterlife so badly.

“Shh,” His mom says, patting his forehead lightly. It feels like his entire body is a bell and her hand is the clapper, which silences Danny’s pissy hissing immediately. Sam pours soil on the frozen loops of his tail and it’s the best thing Danny has ever felt. It’s so good? He loves her, too.

Another jolt jostles him and he hiccups and gets hushed again. The branch that falls too loudly beside him practically disintegrates on contact. The thicker end smolders a bit.

“Alright, last one! Everybody ready?” Tucker begins releasing the loops of Danny’s tail he’s been supporting, which distracts him from everybody else clearing the area. Doesn’t distract him enough to ignore the fucking firetruck.

The final snip to freedom rings out and Danny slides out of the downed tree with agonizing slowness, feeling every tiny twig brush against his skin like needles. He hits the earth and oh, sweet, sweet relief.

He phases into the park soil completely and just. Stays there. Directs the excess electricity out of his overclocked body until he feels stable enough to surface.

He does so invisibly, silently groaning when he finds his parents talking to the chief firefighter. Again. The downed tree is a husk of charcoal and soaking wet, like a sad, abandoned campfire. He really did a number on the grass. Everything smells like smoke and ozone.

Why couldn’t the lightening have just killed him?

[rip-in-peace-eraserhead]

All This for a Cat Nap?

Pairing: Erasermic

AU: Fantasy/cat cafe

Summary: Aizawa Shouta owns and runs his own cat cafe which is paired up with a local shelter to get some of the cats adopted. On his lunch breaks, he uses his hidden shapeshifting powers to join the cats in the main room for a short nap. This backfires when he gets cursed by a witch for something he didn't do. Now stuck as a cat, he needs help to get out of this mess. Maybe that nice blond guy will be just what he needs.

For @gegeru within the @bnhasecretsanta2019. Have a happy holidays and a happy New Year.

Ao3 Link

Read under the cut.

This couldn’t be happening. 

Shouta hissed as the young employee reached for him again, This time he swiped at her hand with his claws, causing her to jerk back, yelping as she struggled to stay on the step ladder she had climbed while trying to reach him. 

With her having retreated for the moment, he bolted out of the cubby he had squeezed into and climbed another level to the tracks running along the upper walls. The thick carpeting under his paws along with the traction his claws gave him, he had enough maneuverability to make it to the other side of the room before she could even look for him again. 

Stupid customer. Stupid employee. Stupid witch making stupid assumptions. Stupid everything!

A new voice joined in with the assistant’s worried fretting. This one a bit lower pitched and calmer. Human words don’t translate perfectly to shifters who are in animal form so it was hard to make out. It must have been the guitar guy. He’s the very generous yet extremely infuriating guy who had decided that Shouta would make a good house pet. 

If Shouta were an actual cat instead of a shifter stuck as a cat, it would be insanely nice for guitar guy to offer to socialize an angry and partially feral cat after he paid for the cat. But Shouta isn’t a normal cat and now the guy’s offer is seriously hindering Shouta’s chance to just chill out at the cafe until the curse wears off.

With a moment to breathe, Shouta could consider his options. 

One: He could wait out this curse in the main room for weeks without interacting with a single human and hope that the curse doesn’t wear off in the middle of a busy day (leaving him buck-naked in a cat-cafe). And then pretend nothing happened when everyone asks. ‘Where the fuck have you been?’

Except that was unrealistic. The employees only put food out during the day and the other cats wouldn’t leave enough food for him if he waits. Also, he had no idea what curse he was under, so he might have to explain why he was gone for possibly months

Two: Hide under guitar guy’s couch, escape when he goes to work, find someone to turn him back, get back to his own apartment, and act like nothing happened. Then pretend not to feel guilty when he sees the missing cat posters all over town.

It was shitty, but the best option he has at the moment. Guitar-guy would still have Mochi to keep him company and if he really wanted a second cat, he could come back and adopt one.

He didn’t get the chance to consider a third option before another cat climbed up onto the other end of his perch. Happy to have found him, Mochi made a light trilling noise before mashing her face against his and starting to fervently clean his cheek. 

Being so preoccupied with the friendly tabby, he didn’t notice the hand reaching up behind him until it had a hold of his scruff. He yowled in protest but was pinned against a leather-clad chest  (impervious to wild claw swipes) and dropped into a pet tote. 

Mochi, now worried by Shouta’s protests, started to jump down the levels to reach him but was also scooped up by guitar guy who was apparently the one to use his leather jacket to knab Shouta without injury. She ended up being the one put into the temporary pet tote that the cafe offered to adopting patrons. 

That leads to another reason this situation sucks so much. The reason why the man had chosen Shouta and Mochi to adopt together was that he had seen Shouta taking a cat nap with Mochi and when Shouta ran away and tried to make himself look unappealing, the man decided to adopt both in hopes that Mochi would help socialize Shouta. He previously had everything worked out to adopt Mochi by herself and Shouta ended up being an accessory piece

Tired and frustrated, Shouta let out the loudest yowl he could muster, cursing that damned witch. So what if he had been lounging around as a cat. Making the assumption that he was a shifter who lived there as a cat just to advantage of the people’s good nature was incredibly rude. As the owner of the cafe, Shouta was the one who worked his ass off to get the place up and running and paired with the local shelter.

But now he was stuck in cat form until he could wait out the effects. 

Still not satisfied with the amount fo venting he’d done so far, he tossed his head back and made the most god-awful yowl/howl/scream he’d ever heard out of a cat’s mouth. Both humans and Mochi jumped at the noise.

Before he could muster up the energy for another, a face appeared through the bars of the cage. Vivid green eyes stared right into Shouta’s newly yellowed ones. The only thing Shouta could think was, “What a stupid mustache.”

“Hey....hey...little dude. It’s gonna be okay. Sorry for spooking ya. I know the carrier is a bit stressful but I’ll let ya out when we get home.”

Shouta ended up too distracted by the fact that he could clearly understand this guy to hear the transaction between the assistant manager and him as he was paying for their fees (and making a new account for Shouta because “His account must have gotten accidentally deleted.”)

It took until Shouta and Mochi were firmly buckled into guitar guy’s car before he said something more to Shouta. 

“I bet having a human just start chatting with you is a bit freaky, huh? I set up a spell so I could talk to Mochi and discuss her being my familiar but you ended up in the mix too. You don’t have to work as a familiar though. I just thought you needed a good home and if you like Mochi, it’d be best for you to come with her.”

Shouta said nothing in return as he began to reevaluate his life choices.

-----

Nemuri shrieked, half in laughter and half in fear, as Shouta, finally in human form, chased her around the tiny apartment wielding a mighty couch pillow. “I’m sorry!” She yelped out between laughs, diving behind the couch to get away. “I swear I thought you were just a hobo shifter mooching off the cafe!”

“I was almost neutered!” Shouta roared, trying to leap after her. Thankfully for Nemuri, he wasn’t used to human proportions just yet and landed on the couch, half sprawled over Hizashi’s lap. Hizashi just squeaked, his blush now reaching his ears as he desperately tried to avoid looking at a completely naked Shouta.

The moment it took Shouta to reboot after landing naked on top of a guy was long enough for Nemuri to make a break for it, sprinting out the door, boots in hand, with a hearty, “Good luck boys!”

With her gone, the fight left Shouta, leaving him with deep-set aches and a deeper regret towards the intense chase right after a painful shift back to human form.  

When Hizashi said nothing as the minutes stretched on, Shouta finally looked up to see him looking up and away in the most awkward attempt to avoid glancing too far down. It was funny for a second before the discomfort turned out to be contagious

Shouta readjusted so that he was sitting up like a normal person. ”Sorry.”

When Hizashi didn’t respond, Shouta awkwardly continued. “Y’know that I’m not mad at you, right? This month was batshit crazy and I’m the one who didn’t mention I’m a shifter. With the only other witch I’ve ever met cursing me within two minutes of meeting me, I was a little nervous.”

Hizashi finally uncovered his eyes, relieved that Shouta had placed the pillow over his privates. ”It’s cool, I guess. I just can’t believe I gushed about how the ‘cat cafe worker’ was to your face.”

“Well, you thought I was just a cat, so…”

They were interrupted by Mochi jumping up onto the couch between them, trilling loudly when no one began to pet her immediately. Shouta promptly took pity on her and scooped her up onto the pillow before beginning to rub at her chin.

“Speaking of being a cat,” Hizashi said, a tentative but sly grin crossing his face. “I’d better get a discount for life at the cafe after all the money I spent trying to make the grumpiest, hungriest, largest, fluffiest maine coon happy.”

Shouta rolled his eyes, trying to hide his amusement. “How about I help you pick out another cat, get them all settled, and wave any of the fees for all of that? If you want more retribution, ask your friend. She’s the one who put us in this situation.”

Hizashi pondered the offer for a bit, overexaggerating his uncertainty until it was obvious Shouta was Done. “Okay fine. But you have full visitation rights over Mochi and don’t you dare miss Christmas or I’m telling her you forgot all about her and she’s going to guilt you to death.”

This time Shouta rolled his eyes for real, shooing Mochi off his lap and standing up with the pillow still protecting his modesty. “I’m going to go raid your closet so I don’t have to do a naked walk of shame. Give me ten minutes and we can pretend this never happened.”

The humor slipped out of Hizashi’s face before he lunged forward. “Wait!”

Shouta stopped and was surprised by the hand grabbing his wrist.

“One more request.”

“Greedy aren’t we-”

“One date.”

Shouta froze, startled by the sudden boldness from Hizashi considering how blushy and embarrassed he was about his He turned fully, still awkwardly holding the pillow up, to try and gage Hizashi’s expression.

“Are you sure? Because I wasn’t acting like a dickish cat just to be mean. I really am grumpy, depressed, messy, and tired all the time.” It sounded self-deprecating even to his own ears but give him a break, he’d been off his depression meds for almost a month by this point.

Hizashi stood up and moved closer, now taking Shouta’s hand in his. “I’ve seen a bit of that when at the cafe and I think you’re selling yourself short. I don’t know if you remember this but you were the one who pointed out Mochi to me when I mentioned adopting a cat. I’ve never seen someone so compassionate and I’d like to see more of you. Please?”

A million excuses ran through Shouta’s mind as he tried to mentally work out how to say ‘I a mess you don’t want to clean up’. Before he could articulate one, he noticed the soft longing in Hizashi’s eyes, brilliant emerald staring directly into Shouta’s soul. 

“Fine but I’m paying..”

[witchofthesouls]

Alright, a continuation of Bayverse Autobots dealing with a rogue human carrier due to the absolute fuckery (as in the noncon body modification and unethical human experimentation) from Sector Seven.

(Needless to say, Optimus makes a good impression. The rest of them? Not so much...)

You’re not exactly sure how to feel about your life at the moment. Just one major upheaval after another. It feels more from like a supernatural or superhero action movie with the subplot of a shadow government agency making people disappear Just Because insert-whatever-plot-revalent-reason-of-ultimate-power… 

In the end, there’s no secret order or great prophecy or hidden school with a twinkling headmaster too full of secrets and too much regrets. Just a human that managed to escape on sheer dumb luck that’s trying lay down low and not get caught.

The accelerated healing seems to either cure your terminal illness or keep it in check, but you’re no Deadpool. Jumping from one fourth-story window is one time too many, and not a thing you wish to repeat if it can be avoided.

Now your life is veering into another direction. A sci-fi one.

One with aliens.

Giant metal titans that can transform in vehicles and what not.

What not also includes the ability to project a physical avatar which is sitting across from you right now as you’re wolfing down the fourth Grand Slam plate. Leo Cullen, the alias, is still nursing his hot chocolate, the lumberjack slam barely touched; whereas Optimus, the real man… mecha, alien, is parked outside.

A boot taps your shoe, you look up to see him smile, dimpled and a bit crooked, as he pushes his plate forward and quickly switches it with your empty one.

You’ve gotten used to the constant low buzz at the back of your neck, but the sudden jolt that sears your spine is a different story.

You stop eating. Fork down and napkin up as you pay attention to the direction.

“Something wrong?”

“I think it’s an eyelash.” The lie comes easily. After all, you and him are both hiding in plain sight for similar reasons. “Hold on.”

The angle of the compact mirror catches a couple half-asleep at their table, and behind them, an older man with greying red hair with glasses. He’s staring at you and a flare lights your nerves on fire.

The table rattles as you push up, the smile feels like a grimace as you say you’re going to the toilet.

The restroom is single users and it suits your needs perfectly. In the reflection, a wan face stares back at you; still thin and sharp from the weight loss and stress still etched on your features. Recovery is an absolute bitch and being on the run gives it a caustic tongue.

Splashing water over your face does little to settle your newfound sparky nerves, and you’re finishing up when there’s a loud click of the door unlocking without your damn permission and it swings open to-

“There you are!” 

The face and body is different, softer with floral wear but the same greying red hair and glasses. You hold your breath and let the static build in your gut. There’s a distant thought that’s amazed by the aliens’ adaptiveness. To have different forms at a blink of an eye? What a skill to have…

They’re saying something but it doesn’t matter. All you need is for them to come closer. Closer.

Cold porcelain digs into your lower back as you wait for the door to finally settle, and finally-

You have no idea who’s more surprised when they disintegrate in an electric rain as you dig your hands into them. The gold chains and rings around your palms and fingers aren’t to just look pretty.

The dryer sputters in a slow death and soap dispenser sparks, drooling out all of its contents. Only the toilet and sink escaped due to the lack of sensors. Lucky them that you’re getting better at that trick. You once shorted out half a block -signs, posts, and even the cars, nothing was left unaffected- to escape in the dark streets.

It does leave you off-kilter: bodily disconnected, yet hyper-aware of all the running currents.

Leo’s outside the door, and you force your shaking, wet hands to smooth out the static in your hair, patting them dry with your clothes. (A small, distant part of yourself jokes about matching Leo’s greying side streaks should you ever return to your original hair.)

There’s concern on his face and he says something but you honestly want to go back to bed. Just sleep it off for awhile.

He pulls you close and hot air hits your wet face. Sun beating overhead and you drag your feet to disperse the extra charge, teeth hurting whenever a radio is changed.

Leo makes no comment when you kick up dust, but he hum in a strange singsong and unrecognizable tune that bleeds out the itch under your skin.

Besides the weirdly green ambulance in the far corner, there’s a hummer and a sports car nearby giving you the same sharp sense of jittery awareness. And unlike the ambulance who’s avatar you knocked out, those two weren’t muted and had their attention on you.

Static numbs your clenched fingers and your spine buzzes as you and Leo pass them. You're tense. Absolutely ready to bolt away, and if it wasn't for the arm around your shoulders and the calming presence exuded by Leo, you're pretty sure you would have taken your chances to run into traffic. 

The lizard part of your brain is still screaming to try: Don’t turn your back!

A bizarre sensation of cool water slides down your neck and you shiver as it spreads down your back, like a huge icy-hot pack and a massage as it rolls and digs into your muscles, unknotting them, playfully tapping each individual knobs of your spine. 

It’s enough to shove the overwhelming urge to run to back of your head. Enough to realize that you need to breathe and had a death grip on Leo’s clothes. Leather and flannel twisted in your hands, straining the materials even.

In a way, you’re operating on a cross between autopilot and hyperviligance. You know that the Leo/Optimus hybrid is physically guiding you back to him, but your entire focus is tracking the other not-cars. Too many, persists the lizard, what’s stopping them?

You’re suddenly back inside the cab, seatbelts curling and sliding back to its proper place. 

Your life is turning upside-down again, but all you do is stumble to the bed in the back. Too strung out by everything to speak. The mattress shifts and bury your face into the eerily smooth skin of a neck and inhale the mix of tires, metal, and fire. He pulls you over to rest right on top of him and you follow it, soaking his body heat and matching his slow rise of his chest.

Optimus hums, the pitch low, and you realize it’s his whole frame, not just the avatar, that’s gently vibrating in a strangely soothing noise that slowly eases away the harsh tension in your back and unclenches your belly, limbs relaxing as you cling to the other body and broad hands, warm and sure, are resting on your lower back, heat sinking into the sore muscles.

Hunger still nips at your senses, but it’s the exhaustion that drags you down.

The noise drowns out the sharp awareness that’s outside, and somewhere between the easy, slow strokes across your lower back and rocking motions of the drive, you fall asleep.

You’re vaguely aware you’re purring back.

_________________

:: Congratulations, Prime, we have a feral carrier in our grasp now. ::

[surviving-sides]

Is everyone infected in this au, or do you have to be bit? And does it only affect humans? Or can animals get infected too?

// i haven’t decided fully on the “everyone is infected” bit. I want everyone to be infected, because I think it opens up a lot of doors for conflict, but I feel like it’s kind of a strong Walking Dead thing? Like you can borrow things from other pieces of media, but it’s such a staple in the show that it feels like stealing (and the reason I’m being so serious about this is bc in this au I’m using the same lore as in my original zombie apocalypse book)

It does infect animals, but not the same way. They become feral, and will attack on sight. They’re also carriers. But they don’t get a fever and don’t die from it. They have to be bit to be infected.

[soldier76xreader]

Cat Foster!Jack AU

Your husband picks up his phone and then grabs one of the cat carriers with the softest shit lining the bottom before bolting out the door.

He comes back in an hour with a hissing feral momma and her newborn babies in the crate.

You smile and give him an approving thumbs up as he grins before heading to the ‘feral’ room to get momma and her babies all set up in the now-occupied space.

Plans are to let feral momma feed her babies, play with babies to get them used to being with humans, get momma fixed when babies are on dry food, return feral momma to her stomping ground, and then adopt out the kittens with spay/neuter contracts.

It’s a cycle but one Jack and you find very rewarding.

There’s always cute kittens to see crawling over your sweetheart in your home.

[earthnashes]

In the infected!au, do dragons get affected too?

I’d say that the infection can effect anyone that has a higher level of brain function and thinking, which indeed includes dragons. But since the strain effects different species differently (for example, feral non-sapient animals can be carriers, but they themselves don’t turn) and because dragons don’t make up that much of Equestria’s population anyway, you won’t really see any infected dragons in the AU. What I think is that, as far as dragons go, the infection doesn’t actually make them turn but it does affect them like regular rabies would a human; they exhibit different symptoms before, eventually, they’ll just die from it. And because there is no vaccine to combat it, in dragons that become infected, they rarely ever survive it. So in that sense, Spike doesn’t have to be worried about turning, but he still has to worry about getting infected because the infection will kill him.

[witchofthesouls]

Could we get more of that bayverse carrier story? I'm invested

Let's goooo:

Heed the warnings because Bayverse is really fucked up when you think about it: noncon body modification, unethical human experimentation, unplanned/accidental pregnancy of the hybrid kind, unhealthy coping mechanisms, implications of fuck or die aspects of heats

When you fall asleep clutching his avatar in a solid death grip Optimus didn’t have the spark to dissipate it. Keeping most of his focus in his frame and devoting a bit of energy to keep your sleep calm and dreamless.

Humans can’t purr. But here you are, in his arms, purring in a way that is reminiscent of a distressed carrier in need of comfort.

Ratchet is pushing to get baseline readings, more so after you knocked him out but Optimus isn't budging. 

It’s a lot to take in and Optimus hadn’t even breached why they were searching for you…

Ratchet is beyond words, mentally slapping himself, his Prime, Megatron, Primus, Unicron, and the rest of them as well as damning Sector Seven to the deepest, coldest parts of the universe.

You are easily the most skittish carrier the Autobots had ever dealt with. Not only it was a pain in the T-cog to get near your vicinity, but Cybertronian feral-protocols and human instincts had meshed bizarrely well. You spook quickly and with your nifty blackout trick, it makes sense how the hell you were able to make a fast getaway from the multiple attempts to capture you.

You're also the most cognizant feral carrier ever seen. Even when you had to be coaxed out of Optimus' alt-mode after crashing inside him for a few days, you can be reasoned with.

On Cybertron, when a carriage hits a certain point -sparklet has dropped below and was in the construction phase - it refuses to be terminated, it pulls and pulls from the carrier's own frame to the point of cannibalization. Heat is the first step of a downward spiral, a carrier’s last-ditch effort to call donors for resources. When that fails, then a carrier enters a feral state that’s akin to Empties -losing logical centers and physical sensation as their frame focuses on one thing only: consumption.

Everyone can tell you're in poor health. Not just your wan, underweight appearance, but with that hyperactive fight-or-flight response that caused you to break the medbay from the overwhelming dunk of staticky, prickly sensation of the scanner. It cuts you off from outside interference, including Optimus in the distance. You threw yourself out of Ratchet’s palm and hit the ground running in a wild goose chase across the base…

You're famished. Constantly hungry. Optimus had witnessed you bouncing from buffet to buffet in Las Vegas. Despite your underweight frame, you put away an incredible amount of food as if a blackhole had taken residence in your belly.

You practically hide under Optimus’ presence since whatever trick he does silences the lizard brain as his energy/field massages the paranoia to sleep as it plays up and down your spine and your skin buzzes pleasantly.

Part of it is the nanites struggling to reinforce and heal your body, trying to bridge the gaps between human and Cybertronian, plugging into parts similar enough for its own framework. You’re small and vulnerable with no systems of natural defense but very quick and resilient; so it boosts such aspects as it pushes you to flee from danger. Part of it is the sparklet’s own instinctive response to a familiar signature since Optimus and Megatron are brothers.

You can’t help but laugh at the newest bout of information outside of live giant aliens of a mechanical nature and secret government organization that may have gone AWOL from the government that’s dealing with alien and human experimentation. Oh no, said the puke-green alien doctor as you sit on a giant alien medical table, you’re not actively dying. Far from it. Whatever was done seems to turn you into a cyborg and you’re pregnant to boot. Congratulations.

Between the sickness, the experimental treatments, and weight loss, it’s easy to brush away the lack of menstruation, increased hunger, the onslaught of chills, deep-seated suspicion over everything, and so much more, especially with the strongest evidence of all: multiple negative pregnancy tests.

You’ve been terrified about that, especially since your skin seems to settle only with unprotected sex. The countless receipts of different condoms, lubes, toys, and extensive web searches regarding sex positions are a monument to your exhausting efforts. Hands and mouths can’t even take off the edge and pulling out leaves you far more restless and anxious.

You tried so many other things to release tension and settle your nerves. Teas, meditation, medication, exercise, alcohol, weed, and so much more. And nothing could shut your body and mind enough to sleep peacefully than getting fucked raw and creampied.

If you were pregnant, then there should be a baby bump or the related hormones of an active pregnancy, especially after a year on your own.

Of course, it smacks you in the face with the sonogram check.  You have no idea what an alien fetus is supposed to look like. Maybe naked gears and cables and something like the guts of a car and clock with a steampunk aesthetic, but inside your womb is something else entirely. It reminds you of quicksilver; the liquid mass bright and squirming as it reacts to Ratchet’s probing, within the blob, there’s a luminous shine of a miniature star; a sparklet, he says, small but healthy.

It’s a lot to take in and the conflicting emotions flood you to incoherency. Ratchet is far better prepared this time as he places something like a weighted blanket over your distressed self. It swallows your whole and it should be claustrophobic, but it isn’t. Not at all. It does something strange to leave you heaving for air, but lying still under it.

You felt Optimus’ presence before his voice registered in your ears. There’s a myriad of emotions. You want to laugh, to cry, to throw things, to explode something. You want to flee far away. You want to crawl into his cab and never come out. You want to be held. You want to be left alone. You want to throw the stupid blanket at Ratchet’s feet. You want to squirrel it away and curl up into it as Optimus’ field pets and play with your spine in that soothing way…

Within six months, there's improvement in your overall health. Not only are you regaining and maintaining some weight, your sleep has stabilized as did your intake and mood. You’re on doctor’s orders to room with Optimus and get boned at least twice a day.

Between Ratchet's constant monitoring and carefully vetted dietitians' recommendations, you eat enough calories to feed a full football team. There’s no issue with over-supplementing your organic body. Carriage is a heavy resource-intensive process, it funnels so much material into construction as well as your own repair that you don't have negative side effects associated with consuming a vast quantity of minerals and vitamins.

You’re no longer stuffing your face with desperate gusto, no matter how steamy and hot the food comes out. Burns didn’t matter, your healing factor is accelerated. It’s far more moderate and now you regained the patience to cook and actually enjoy flavors.

You were ashamed to admit that your cravings included non-food items as well. You washed and sucked on spare change, chewed on mechanical writing and dining utensils, and had the urge to either lick or nibble on metal ornaments in antique shops.

There were cravings for charcoal and clay as well. Easy to get with the diet and health trends. 

Even the 'bots that rarely interact with the base's carrier can tell your health is improving. That strange, chaotic EM field is far less jarring from the overwhelming stress and panic nipping at it.

You don't know why you keep getting surprised by your life at this point, not only Optimus could produce a very realistic human avatar, but the 30-feet mech could literally shrink himself to a more human-friendly height.

He's very patient with you poking and prodding every bit of him, even letting you tug on his person. You have a lot of questions and he doesn't mind answering, but Optimus can't tell if you're serious or rhetorical based on all the fucks you keep muttering.

Optimus isn't surprised by the gasps and chokes of fucks that keen out of your mouth and he slides into your tight body. That strange field of yours and the newspark's react as if he's with a needy carrier, which you are one. That frenzied hum of energy that tugs on his spark and the Matrix purrs as your legs are wrapped around him, keening loudly.

[witchofthesouls]

Who was the redhead with glasses in the bayverse post?

That was Ratchet in his holomatter. I've been seeing so many wonderful humanformers artwork, and I'm just in love with redhead Ratchet with eyewear XD

Originally, I was going to have far more dialogue and introduction, but then I went down the tunnel of what other havoc could have those nanites been doing...

Hence, little feral human-carrier that's perpetually stressed, always exhausted, and ridiculously hungry.

He was hoping to at least get a quick scan on the little carrier before they get tucked away by Prime, especially since 1) he needs a baseline to make comparisons and refine a health plan, 2) check out the sparklet's readings, and 3) examine the defensive stress signs Reader is exhibiting.

Ratchet thought you would be less apprehensive with another woman but no dice.

(Ngl, he based his female holomatter on Judy Witwicky's fashion aesthetic, so that's why lady Ratchet has floral prints and skirts.)

At least the Autobots know how the hell you managed to consistently slip away from Sector Seven's recovery attempts.