#allows them to be more independent… There isn’t a clear villain.

[calico-fiish]

Con planning!!

#I have a lot of thoughts about this movie #I posted them elsewhere but I think I’ll put them here too #I really like how this movie portrays the conflict between man and nature.. it doesn’t resolve easily and there is no quick answer. #The humans are destroying the forests but with this comes industrial development #which improves their quality of life (especially for the sick/disabled) and also provides jobs for women and #allows them to be more independent… There isn’t a clear villain. #Ashitaka goes with San into the forest but he doesn’t become one of them he is still human and treated as such by the forest spirits. #(His relation the the iron town people is especially interesting #He doesn’t exactly feel duty bound to protect them as a fellow human nor does he side with San and her pure hatred of humans #He stands somewhere in the middle which is a pretty much impossible place to be in) #art #princess mononoke #studio ghibli

[thankskenpenders]

IDW Sonic: Imposter Syndrome and #50

It’s finally here! IDW Sonic #50! I waited to talk about the Imposter Syndrome miniseries until after #50 dropped, and it turns out #50 has, uh... well, it’s made a big splash. I’m not sure I’ve seen this many people talking about (and/or arguing over) a single issue of Sonic in a long time.

As expected, in this post I’ll be talking about Surge, Kit, and Starline, but #50 has also given us a ton to chew on regarding Sonic and Eggman, Belle, and the overarching themes of the entire IDW series.

Let’s start out with the miniseries!

IMPOSTER SYNDROME

Surge rules

Can I just say that up front? That’s my main takeaway. Surge fucking rules

She was popular from the very second the first images of her dropped because Evan and Mauro came up with an extremely sick design, and the actual story does not disappoint. She borrows liberally from delinquent rival anime tropes (except, you know, she’s a girl, so it’s instantly even better), but that’s such a natural and fun addition to the Sonic cast that she instantly grabs you

And boy, if the writing and the strength of the design weren’t already enough, Thomas Rothlisberger’s art throughout the arc sure does. I’ve seen a lot of comparisons to Rise of the TMNT, which I can see. But Surge just makes so many good faces, constantly, and everything she does is cool. She’s angry teenage rebellion personified and she’s instantly become one of my favorite characters in the entire franchise, period. (Tangle and Whisper are also up there, so it’s safe to say the IDW comics have an extremely good track record when it comes to comic-original characters.)

Like seriously just look at her faces and tell me she isn’t the best

Kit, AKA “Aw Little Guy!!! Oh He's A Little Bit Fucked Up Actually”

There were always hints that Kit had a sinister side to him - he is a villain, after all - but Surge stole the show at the start of the miniseries. This left Kit mostly as her meager sidekick struggling to please both her and Starline. In this way, he’s a dark reflection of Tails. Where Tails has become more independent over time, becoming more of an equal to Sonic, Kit exists entirely to support Surge. Starline made him this way, because this is how Starline perceives Sonic and Tails’ relationship. Starline doesn’t really understand people despite thinking he does, and this is what ultimately damns all of them

Naturally, this has left Kit kind of fucked up. Over the course of the arc, it becomes clear that he’s probably the scarier of the two. Surge might be stronger, but like Sonic, she wears her emotions and her intentions on her sleeve. But Kit? Kit suppresses his violent urges, until they build to a point where he can’t anymore

(these panels from #50 but still)

Holy shit, Starline???

I touched on Starline’s very meta plan earlier. I would have honestly been happy if Ian and co. had just added these cool new rivals for Sonic and Tails and let them duke it out, because they are, in fact, cool as hell. But the actual plot of the arc is more intriguing than that

Starline has always been a very meta character, with his main trait as a character basically being that he can zoom out and notice patterns in the franchise that other characters either can’t or won’t. He’s the guy who watches a movie and says how he would make smarter decisions than the characters the whole time. Early on, he did this with Eggman. He tried to “fix” Eggman’s methods so that he could finally succeed in beating Sonic and taking over the world, but this didn’t work out, and Eggman kicked him to the curb. He then decided that he would simply go solo and take over the world for Eggman. He finally reveals his true plan for doing so here: create his own “heroes” who can replace Sonic and Tails, the main heroes who always stand in the way of “progress” (Eggman taking over the world). In theory, this will allow Starline to control the hero/villain dynamic from both sides, ending the cycle of Eggman trying to “change the world” and Sonic stopping him

And of course, Starline calls this cycle he intends to break...

“The Sonic Cycle.”

I love you Ian

It quickly becomes apparently, though, that Starline’s plan here is, uh. Extremely fucked up! Wow! Early on it’s revealed that Starline has repeatedly been “rebooting” Surge and Kit. Any time the cracks start to show in their conditioning and they question their life stories, Starline’s orders, or their innate desires to defeat Sonic and Tails, Starline edits their memories. They do start to put two and two together, though, and eventually they learn the truth: they’re just two random kids Starline kidnapped and experimented on. They don’t remember their actual pasts, and Starline didn’t bother to keep track of who they originally were because he doesn’t care. They’ve been modified with cyborg endoskeletons and even have some of the Metal Virus in them, making them nigh-unkillable. Which Starline tested by... well, killing them repeatedly to make sure they always bounced back.

This is... so much darker than I would have ever expected? But in a fantastic way. It makes Starline SO absolutely despicable, and it gives Surge and Kit this pathos that makes you want to root for them, even as they set out to go rogue and burn the whole world down. Surge is very much set up as her own antihero in the buildup to her showdown with Sonic, which is a choice that I think leads to some fascinating character juxtaposition when it finally happens in issue #50.

Really, my only complaint about the miniseries was that the marketing made it seem like Sonic and Tails would be dealing with these two sooner, when in reality this is all the setup. The extremely hype wrestling promos for the climactic Wrestlemania that is Sonic #50. (My other complaint, I suppose, is that IDW is still having multiple artists trade off in a single story, which can be a bit jarring. But that’s a publisher-wide issue.)

But MAN. When we finally do get that big showdown? It does not disappoint.

SONIC #50

As with Imposter Syndrome, I went in expecting Sonic and Tails to fight Surge and Kit. And we absolutely got that with this extra-long issue penciled by Adam Bryce Thomas. Adam’s always been an A-lister on the IDW series, especially when it comes to bombastic shounen manga-inspired battles, but this issue might just be his best Sonic work yet

But like I said at the start, the issue is more than just some cool fights.

Sonic vs. Surge

Surge’s entire life, or at least what little of her life she can remember thanks to Starline, has been building up to this moment. Whoever she was before is gone, replaced with one purpose. She’s been impatiently awaiting the day she's finally allowed to fight Sonic to the death. We’ve followed her through Starline’s inhumane training, the audience being equally antsy after months of buildup. At long last, she confronts him. She delivers an impassioned speech about what she stands for, how she curses the world that discarded her, how she’s going to tear Sonic and anyone else who stands in her way a new one...

And Sonic... doesn’t really give that much of a shit.

They do fight, of course. Boy, do they ever. But Sonic has never met this girl before and has no animosity towards her. He’s also done this too many times and would like to skip to the part where they’re friends, or at least frenemies. And this is just... tragic for Surge. For her, this is the most important day in her life. But for Sonic, it’s Tuesday. For Surge, this is a duel to the death. But Sonic, ever the unflappably positive shounen protagonist, is just having fun fighting someone who keeps him on his toes. He refuses to validate her on her terms.

(There are also a lot of interesting parallels with Tails’ simultaneous fight with Kit, where the kindhearted Tails is trying to be extremely nice and defuse the situation when he realizes that Kit is just some poor, fucked up kid. But instead of going on my own tangent I’ll link this very good TikTok analyzing Sonic’s social skills and the interesting ways his blunt, brash attitude can clash with the fact that he does genuinely care a lot.)

I even feel like Adam’s art is playing up the idea that Sonic’s attitude continues to make him the villain for Surge. His speech about his ideals places him above Surge, with a smug expression on his face and sunbeams shining down over him. Adam’s own (extremely sick) variant cover is framed very similarly, showing us the smug and above-it-all Sonic from Surge’s perspective.

Why does Surge think Sonic is so holier-than-thou? And why does she still care about fighting him if she just wants to defy Starline’s brainwashing? Well, she directly calls out his belief in the power of second chances, blaming Sonic for her very existence. Which ties back into what’s become one of the main recurring themes of the IDW series.

Sonic’s Characterization

As Ian’s explained, Sonic’s characterization in the IDW series has been informed by a number of factors. For one, more compassionate heroes are just landing better with audiences these days, including in shounen manga. Your Dekus, your Tanjiros, etc. But beyond that, Sega explicitly forbids Sonic and friends from proactively seeking out Eggman. Sonic is never looking for a fight. Eggman simply causes trouble, Sonic shows up to stop him, and he returns to being a free-spirited roamer.

Really, Sonic’s attitude in the current comics isn’t much different from how he acts in the games. Ian just decided to draw more attention to this behavior, and turn it into an explicit character trait that impacts the story.

I don’t really know what games people have been playing where Sonic DOESN’T act like this? Sure, there are a few games where a villain dies. There are always going to be counterexamples in a series as inconsistent as this. But look at how many characters Sonic has given second chances, and how lightly Sonic often takes threats to the world. Shadow was trying to blow up the damn planet and Sonic was still just having fun racing him on the ARK. Chaos destroyed a whole major metropolitan city and Sonic is like “hold on, Chaos is just hurt, we need to break this cycle of violence.” He’s ended up working with Eggman plenty of times to stop a greater threat. Even when this doesn’t happen, Eggman tends to just fly away at the end. Sonic never hunts him down. Again, Sega forbids him from doing this. It’s not in his character. The IDW comics just explore why.

At the same time, bad faith criticisms of Sonic’s willingness to give villains second chances tend to ignore the very important second part of this mantra, which this issue has Sonic spell out explicitly. Yes, he believes in giving people personal freedom. But the second they use that freedom to hurt people, Sonic is going to beat their asses again. He doesn’t have qualms about using violence in that way. He is, by no definition of the word, a pacifist. Sonic understands that Surge is traumatized, and tries to give her the chance to back down. She refuses, so he kicks her ass, because she’s a threat. Sonic sort of took mercy on the Zeti, in that he didn’t fucking execute them or whatever... but they also got banished back to the Lost Hex where they can’t hurt anyone. Tails disarmed Metal Sonic before they let him go. Sonic let Eggman go only because he had amnesia and Mr. Tinker was, by all accounts, a literal different person. The second he came back? Sonic gladly went right back to blowing his shit up. He is not out here handwringing about Eggman Empire property damage, he’s destroying his bases and smashing his mechs again.

Sonic also isn’t just any regular guy, and can’t always be judged as such. He’s a larger-than-life hero. He’s the embodiment of freedom, of endless adventure, of the power of friendship, of other idealized... well, ideals. This is the very core of his character. He’s the unshakably positive hero who never blinks in the face of danger, who the other, more realistically fallible characters can lean on. He’s a force of nature. He’s not perfect, and he doesn’t always handle things the right way, and other characters will bring up valid counterpoints to his way of life. Like other shounen heroes like Goku or Luffy, he might be a hero due to his actions, but he’s not concerned about being the world’s savior or its god. He doesn’t want to dictate how people live their lives. He leaves decisions about how to run society to other, smarter people, like the Restoration. He just wants to be free to go on adventures and to help his friends when they’re in need. His theme song spells out his whole deal, clear as day: It doesn’t matter who’s wrong and who’s right. He’s just living by his own feelings, and he won’t give in, won’t compromise. He only has a steadfast heart of gold.

Surge can’t stand this, though. The two just can’t see eye to eye. And so she zaps Sonic when he takes a time out in their fight to help her out of a chasm, getting the last laugh and seemingly falling to her doom. “That’s the real problem with giving people a choice,” Sonic solemnly says. “You can’t stop them from making the wrong ones.”

The Bigger Problem

Beyond any fandom bickering over how Sonic should or shouldn’t be characterized, though, this is part of a larger problem that I’ve seen way too frequently in recent years. Adults are engaging with genre fiction for children, and then getting upset when the child protagonists fail to model what they perceive as proper behavior for adults. Particularly, adults are seeing child protagonists learn to solve conflicts nonviolently, or even merely refusing to kill a villain, and interpreting this media as a political playbook for adults telling them that punching Nazis is bad.

That’s not to say that children’s media is never political, of course, or that you can never judge it through a political lens. (Back in the Archie days the direct political allegories were NOT subtle.) But just because some cartoon villains are obvious stand-ins for fascists doesn’t mean that every cartoon with a world-conquering villain is trying to tell you, an adult, how you should deal with fascists, or murderers, or whatever bad faith comparison critics on YouTube and Twitter want to make this time.

This will hopefully be insultingly obvious to most people reading this, but fiction isn’t always literally about the thing it’s depicting, or the closest real world equivalent. In genre fiction, and especially genre fiction for kids, reality is heightened. A fight for the fate of the city or the world or the universe isn’t necessarily about world-scale threats in real life like fascism, or even about real world violent conflicts in general. It’s often more about the emotions than what’s literally happening on screen. In a musical, when the emotions get too strong for words, they break out into song. In an action cartoon, when the emotions get too strong between conflicting characters, they fight. The fantastical violence is just the medium through which the story is conveyed. They trade blows and express their feelings.

Similarly, when the child hero in a series for children saves the day by hugging the right person, or when a villain is redeemed, or when Naruto espouses the power of friendship and uses Talk no Jutsu for the hundredth time, that isn’t telling you, a 30-year-old, that you can go out right now and save America by giving Mitch McConnell a hug. The morals of these stories aren’t necessarily supposed to apply to world-scale conflicts because children are not responsible for saving the world in real life. Instead, the lessons apply more to conflicts that children do deal with. Disputes with friends, or family members, or teachers. Things like that. It’s telling kids that hey, maybe you’ve been mean to people, maybe you’ve acted wrong, but you can learn from your mistakes and do better. That is what lessons about trying to resolve conflicts peacefully, talking about your feelings, empathizing with others, and giving people second chances are supposed to be about. They (usually) aren’t intended as political playbooks for adults telling you not to punch a Nazi, because the people telling these stories are probably hoping that adults aren’t modeling their political behavior after Cartoon Network and Shonen Jump.

But while I generally enjoy this compassionate take on the Sonic series, there is one part of the issue that felt weaker when it comes to the heroes showing compassion towards the villains.

Belle and Metal

If there’s one character from the games that I think Ian has always struggled with more than others, it’s probably Metal Sonic. Of course, not every writer is going to gel with every character, especially on a licensed series where you’re working with someone else’s cast. (Lord knows if I was to write a Sonic series I would play favorites lmao.) And Ian’s definitely put out some great Metal Sonic stories. But he’s also prone to boiling the character down to a simple killer robot for Sonic and co. to repeatedly defeat without any interiority.

Belle has also been a contentious character throughout this season. I’ll reiterate that I think Belle is great, and the big emotional beats with her have been strong. I would say the mixed response to Belle is primarily a matter of pacing, more than anything else. As Evan explained over on her blog, Belle's backstory was originally just going to be a short one-off. When the 2021 Annual was replaced with the Classic Sonic special, Belle’s story got turned into the main overarching subplot connecting the stories of the third season. I do like a lot of the storytelling this allowed for. The buildup to the reveals in the Test Run arc, and her ensuing tearful breakdown; her questioning of her very nature as a Badnik; her heroic moments in Trial by Fire where she’s finally able to prove herself. It’s good stuff! Character arcs like this are why original characters are added to the comics in the first place. But I can also see how the slow and somewhat repetitive rollout of information and emotional beats is a bit much over a year and a half of comics, and it was a little odd to have her stick around as the only consistent main character for every single arc of the season as soon as we met her. But I still enjoyed her arc this season as a whole.

No, where I start to be more mixed on the direction of Belle as a character is this issue. Previously, Belle had made it her mission to try and save as many Badniks as she could. I understand her motivation, and I do think this has potential to be a fun premise. Badniks are EXTREMELY underutilized in the tie-in fiction, and anyone in this corner of the fandom who’s following artists like Hydro knows how fun it is to have Badnik characters around.

But the problem is, of course... if we start to recognize the Badniks that Sonic destroys casually as people, doesn’t that make it wrong for him to destroy them?

I guess it depends on the context, and how it’s executed in the future. Like, Motobud was fine because that’s not just A Motobug, but one that was specifically reprogrammed by Mr. Tinker to be friendly. But what’s Belle’s endgame here? Where is the line drawn between robots that need to be saved and simple obstacles for Sonic to pop in action sequences?

To me, we start to see the cracks in issue #50 with Belle’s attempts to save Metal Sonic. Metal is certainly no stranger to redemption arcs and characters trying to see the good in him - the OVA basically defined him as a character. But still. It’s admirable for Belle to see a robot who’s hurt and want to help, but the sympathy shown for Metal is laying it on a bit thick for me given Ian’s usual characterization of him as a missile with legs. Sonic already let him go once early in the series, but that was specifically because he thought Eggman was gonna remain Mr. Tinker forever at the time, and he and Tails also made sure not to restore his full fighting abilities. (”We’re compassionate, not stupid.”) But in this very different context, with a very different character, it’s just... eh, it didn’t sell me on this as a wise use of Belle’s compassion. If she wants to help the “abandoned” Eggman bots, Metal is very much not one of those. He just happened to have been hurt by Surge when they found him.

Not the end of the world, but it’s the weak part of what’s otherwise an amazing issue, and I worry that Belle showing complete and total sympathy towards every Eggman robot may get old fast. But, like I said, it will depend entirely on the execution. Maybe she’ll only single out the oddballs like herself and Motobud. It may not even be a huge element of the story moving forward, since I know Evan’s outright said Belle would be taking more of a backseat now that her initial arc is completed. (It also seems like Eggman wants to take advantage of the fact that she interfaced with Metal, so her kindness here may backfire...)

If anything, though, I do like the little awkward family reunion where Belle is telling Eggman that she’s done hoping he’ll go back to being Mr. Tinker and is gonna go live her own life and Metal is just kind of standing there because he won’t attack another Eggman creation.

Anyway! I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned the giant robot fight

Starline’s Final Comeuppance

Sonic’s ideals, as explained in his fight with Surge, are also directly contrasted with Starline as he fights Eggman. Sonic stands for personal freedom, for better or worse, but Starline stands for total control, even more so than Eggman. He tries to manipulate people and the very story he exists in to steer everyone in the totalitarian direction he thinks is best. Anything outside of his narrative doesn’t matter. Even as Eggman is fighting him in a giant mech, he’s still under the impression that his actions are justified, that Eggman will be okay with being a pawn in his scheme so long as they get their happy ending ruling the world.

Instead, he loses a sick-ass mech fight, he’s humiliated worse than ever before, and then he dies!

I actually didn’t read it as a death at first because being crushed by rubble is such an easy “death” to write around, and it’s, you know, a comic book. Nobody stays dead in comic books. (We already know Surge survives this issue, regardless of how it looked.) But Ian did, indeed, intend for this to be Starline’s death. He also admits that that’s not entirely up to him since he’s not the only person making story decisions, so I won’t be surprised if he comes back in a year or two. Regardless, as much as I like the character, this is probably the most fitting death Starline possibly could have had. He thought he could outsmart Eggman, and the very nature of the series he’s in. Some readers, too, have accused Ian of writing Eggman as too much of a bumbling oaf in the IDW comics, especially with Starline always pointing out his mistakes. Even the marketing for this arc seems to have played into this, asking if Eggman would “bumble his way to a victory”

All this for the ultimate slam dunk in this issue where Ian definitively reminds us that, even if he can never beat Sonic... no one else can definitively beat Eggman, either.

Because Eggman fucking rules

I said at the top that Starline is damned because he doesn’t understand people as well as he thinks he does. He creates Surge and Kit as dark and deeply broken reflections of Sonic and Tails because he so fundamentally misunderstands how their dynamic works. He thinks he understands Eggman, too, but he doesn’t. He may consider himself Eggman’s #1 fan, but he’s a toxic fanboy with faulty criticisms. He’s CinemaSins. He focuses on the details and the logic, he nitpicks, and he thinks he could do everything better if given the opportunity. He thinks he understands the nature of the series he’s in, but he fails to see the big pictures, the heart. He doesn’t understand why Sonic is really the hero beyond his strength and bravado. He doesn’t understand why Tails is a hero beyond his ability to support Sonic. And he doesn’t understand why, despite his many mistakes, Eggman will always endure as the true big bad of this world. And this leads to his downfall at the hands of his idol

I could say more about this issue and the ones that lead to it! I have obviously already said way too much. I’m gonna cut it off here!

Even with all the hype to live up to, this was an extremely satisfying issue of Sonic. One of the best in a long, long time. This one’s gonna stick with people. I have my quibbles, but it really has it all. Action, humor, drama, heart, stunning artwork, and a whole lot of character work to think about. Can’t really ask for more, can I?

#tkp post

[celluloidbroomcloset]

https://celluloidbroomcloset.tumblr.com/post/735562286934245376/yknow-and-props-to-jenkins-for-seeing-the

Sorry but I have to rant about this a bit. Not about your addition though! It's entirely about the Izzy canyon op's clear intentions with that post. You don't have to post this, I just need to get it out of my system. 😅

I just love how the canyon is trying to turn fans against Jenkins. Sorry canyon op, it was always a romcom and Ed and Stede were always a real love story. Jenkins might've changed his mind on some of the details, but it was always a queer romance. Every other one of the collected articles and quotes they helpfully linked shows that very clearly, so thanks for that canyon op.

Sorry again canyon op, but that one quote doesn't suddenly turn the show into a barely dodged queerbait either. A queer romance possibly not having a storybook happy ending in its original plan does not mean it's "not a real love story" or anything resembling queerbait. (somebody please take that word away from the internet, I am begging!) What it is is a sweet love story in a fun romcom and he even gave it a clear happily ever after ending intentionally in case they aren't renewed.

And yes, the cast's influence on their characters and their stories is awesome and wonderful and at Jenkins' suggestion. They wouldn't have been allowed even a tiny fraction of the freedom Jenkins gave them to shape their characters on most other shows. That actors, directors, writers, and showrunner could all work together so closely and so well to create this incredible show is very telling of the kind of showrunner Jenkins is and it's a rare one.

Jenkins may not be perfect, but that one quote doesn't suddenly make him less of an ally or any less amazing for putting this fun little queer as all hell show into our lives! It doesn't make the show any less joyful! I'd say it makes it more so for having this straight man, as good an ally as he is, see and realize what it would mean to people to have this thing and willfully change his plans to make it even better for us. He didn't have to give Ed and Stede such a wonderful ending this season and yet he did! He did it because he wants them, and us, to be happy.

I'm sorry your blorbo died, canyon op, but Jenkins is not "losing the other half of the fandom" now. The canyon aren't even half of the fandom to begin with! It's a very loud minority that I wish would just leave the rest of us to enjoy the show in peace instead of trying to turn us all against it. 😒

Lol - you know what’s hilarious? I honestly didn’t look at the source of that post. I’d heard some of this stuff before and was like “oh, yeah, it sounds like Jenkins changed focus and it worked really well!” Because…that’s the nature of art, especially a collaborative art like film and TV, and it seems clear that other writers, the performers, etc. all helped to shift focus, and Jenkins himself saw the potential and went with it, even likely listened to the queer people on the show to help guide it. Which is…normal and good?

I dunno what this show might do for season 3, and it’s perfectly possible that they sacrifice good will for some strange narrative about-face, but that will have fuck-all to do with Izzy actually being the main character and everything to with…everything else on the show.

In regard to the whole weird Izzy discourse…I barely poked my head into this fandom during the first season, but obviously have done a lot more than that now. And I was immediately just confused by the cadre who seem to think Izzy was the main character. You mean…the angry homophobic white dude who tried to kill one of our leads multiple times and then sent our other lead into a suicidal spiral by telling him to stop acting so gay? THAT dude? Isn’t he, like, the villain?

I dig what they managed with Izzy and I was so happy to actually care about him instead of just hating him, but his narrative function is to advance the Stede/Ed relationship. He’s less independent, narratively, than most of the Revenge crew. His death was sad and it made sense. * shrugs*

I’m still honestly a bit concerned that ANYONE looked at Izzy in Season 1 and went “that’s my guy!” That’s…disturbing, my dudes.

#reply #ofmd s2 #izzy hands #ofmd

[fearspecter]

𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒 + 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 .

when it comes to shadows and darkness, there’s not a lot otto cannot do with them. as mentioned here, otto possesses the ability to marionette others through control of their shadows. this particular usage of his power is something he has not been able to tap into since his release from prison due to being almost completely disconnected from his powers over the last six years. it took him several years to learn how to do that and while he remembers how, he has to build his strength back up to do that.

easier for otto to do is the ability to have shadows attack someone for him. one of the most common examples of this is creating tangible creatures from shadows like in the above image. these creatures cannot think for themselves but do have independence of movement. they’re connected to otto through a hivemind of sorts allowing them to operate and attack without needing all of his focus. the more of these creatures otto creates at once, the less powerful each is. in the past, otto tended to only use two (and occasionally but rarely three) at a time. destroying the shadow creatures won’t hurt otto; harming otto will cause the creatures to return to protect him. if he sustains enough injury or is knocked unconscious, the creatures will disappear.

because the creatures are tangible, they can inflict damage and can kill. people who are wounded by otto’s shadow creatures will notice their skin turning black and necrotizing. if light and fire burn, then darkness and shadow rot. at the moment, otto can summon one creature though it isn’t as strong as he’d like it to be for full effectiveness. the shadow creatures are only produced at night when there is an abundance of darkness and shadow for him to use. light-based attacks can temporarily destroy them but they will regenerate soon after.

he can, and will, use shadows to make melee weapons and fight with them. this is not something he currently struggles with. being wounded (such as a cut) from these weapons will also cause some necrotizing though not to the severity of creatures. kicks and punches do not cause that level of damage to the body tissues, but there will be notable black stains lasting for varying periods of time depending on how severe the injury.

another form of shadow attack that otto uses is just the shadows themselves. he doesn’t have to create something to use shadows to attack; he simply bends them to his will to grab or throw people and objects. he can crush objects with shadows, open and close doors, etc. whatever he could do with his hands, he can do with the shadows through his mind. the more complicated the act, the more focus it takes - hence why he learned how to use his shadow creatures to clear the way for him. these attacks, depending on the severity and the strength of the shadow, will stain the skin. sometimes, the stains are as simple as smudges of eye shadow on the skin (ie otto using a light and brief touch rather than something heavier and/or more prolonged).

one of the reason otto got as powerful as he did so quickly was through his fear empowerment power. the more scared people are, the stronger he becomes in that moment. this is why he preferred, as a villain, to launch attacks where civilians were around. the terror created made him difficult to take down and is why he avoided capture for so long. with enough fear (such as during halloween, the twins’ rampage at the gala, or other sufficiently scary things), otto can ride that for extended periods of time but it will fade. enough of a fear dose will give him a sense of being high so sometimes he goes to horror movies for fun.

#legend . #body horror tw #just in case

[bloodgulchblog]

Hey, want to hear me keep talking about bad things in Halo and what I think about them, because I’m still thinking about it?

It’s about Glasslands, but it’s... not entirely about Glasslands. It’s about the mud Glasslands kicks up at the bottom of this pond for me.

(This is your chance to escape now.)

If you want to condemn the violence done to the colonies by deploying the Spartan-IIs (to be clear, Glasslands doesn’t actually give much of a shit about the colonies) and the violence done to the Spartan-IIs by creating them (what Glasslands cared about), it quickly becomes a game of traveling upstream looking for the toxic waste dump leeching into the river.

So.

First of all, the violence against the colonies has never been a thing that Halo successfully justified to me. Whenever Halo sets up a situation where the colonies are a problem, it’s always through villain creation that feels very transparent and deliberate to me. (They have nukes! There are pirates and criminals and terrorists out there! Some of the colonies would have bad and evil governments if they were allowed to spin off! I promise it gets even more fucked up when you think about how Halo’s foundational lore was born under the Bush administration!)

It’s not that I find the UEG’s attempts to control the colonies unbelievable. I absolutely believe that if humanity expanded into the stars under a united earth government, there would be rebels seeking independence and the government’s attempts to contain them for selfish economic and territorial reasons. It’s that this always looks bad in Halo. Even the Carver Findings (the projection of estimated loss of human life due to the warring in the colonies, the projection that led to the creation of the Spartans in an effort to reduce the losses) boil off for me because my question then is why is it so important that the colonies not become independent anyway?

I really do not have a good answer to that one. The only time it matters is during the Covenant war, when some measure of unity was critical and somebody deciding to sell out other worlds (especially Earth) to the Covenant would have been (and nearly was) absolutely disastrous, but this conflict started before the Covenant and carries on after it. What real, human reason is there to deny them sovereignty?

The end result is that you cannot, at least if you are me, view the actions of ONI and its parent the UNSC and its parent the UEG as heroic in this regard. You cannot. You can hold sympathy for individuals tangled up in this entire fucking mess believing they were doing the best they could to reduce the number of people killed, but the institutional end of this whole thing is war crime from top to bottom. The buck doesn’t stop at the head of the Spartan program. ONI authorized her to do it. Halsey didn’t force ONI’s hand to start this shit. I even have textual evidence for you guys from Halsey’s diary where she discusses taking her own corrected version of the Carver Findings projections to the UNSC. Look.

It’s about the powers that gave this much latitude to each level of this problem. The UNSC lets ONI do shit like this. The UEG lets the UNSC do shit like this. It doesn’t come down to a single individual, it comes down to these structures that are made up of so many individuals, complex machines of human bias and belief that becomes coded into procedures with definite results regardless of what the original intention was.

That’s the real and disgusting heart of this stuff. If you want me to try to engage with these ideas for real, with my real feelings and doing the best I can, what I come down to is identical to how I feel about real world terrible things permitted by real world government. It’s not so easy as ousting one bad official or one bad president, it’s structural, this stuff is built in deep.

And this is why Halo is never going to deal with it. This isn’t Halo’s lane if it wants to keep selling the stories that people come to it for. It can’t. This isn’t even a condemnation of Halo, from me. I do think art can sometimes just be bullshit you do for fun when you don’t actually want to hurt about the ways the world sucks. When Halo wants to delve in on human feelings, it can do it at a micro level. It falls apart if you try to take it higher than that. It’s not a crime for a dumb science fiction video game world to be dumb when you rip apart the world building. I really do think most of the time, writers for Halo know that the government in Halo is responsible for terrible things and they usually do not try to pretend otherwise.

But by god if a Halo writer wants to come out here and challenge me again to condemn an individual alone while trying to absolve the power structure, and to act like this says something that means anything..................

#halo: glasslands #tangentially #sort of #I'm not putting this in the tag I'm too weary

[tainted-wine]

Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

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

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

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

Words: 20k+

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

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

——–x——–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

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

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

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

 x---x---x---x---x 

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

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

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

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

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

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sorry.’

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

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

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

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

 x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

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

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

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

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

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

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

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

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

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“St…aay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

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

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

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

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill it.

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

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

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

Ah, so they can both heal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

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

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

A sad display, indeed.

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

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

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

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

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

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

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

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

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

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

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

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

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

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

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

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

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

‘Don’t do that.’

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

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

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

‘You’re sick.’

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

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

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

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

You snap out of it before that can happen.

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

And you fucking enjoyed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue flames are to be feared.

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

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

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

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

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

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raptor hates it here.

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

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

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

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

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

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

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

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

“Don’t...go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember, shame is useless here.

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hawks.”

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

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

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

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

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

“No more questions.”

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

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

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

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kill her, Raptor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anger.

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

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

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

How dare they.

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

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

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

Raptor wants to get out of here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

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

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

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

“Let’s help each other forget.”

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

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

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

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

And it makes your walls clench.

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

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

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

He was laughing.

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

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

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

“Want more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn him.

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

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

Good.

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

“Inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

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

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

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

Just use me.

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

Just use me however the fuck you want.

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

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

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

Exhaustion…

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

Warmth...full...sleep.

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

“Get up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

But any sort of shame?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Calm.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to leave.”

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

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

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

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

Well then…

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

Breath in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

Breathe in. Breathe out.

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

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open. 

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

Targets first spotted at 12:50

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

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

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

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

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

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

Subject: Raptor

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

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

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

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

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

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

fear purpled bedwars: a dream smp character analysis

(spoilers from Antfrost’s stream, 01/31/2021-02/1/2021)

I’ve been waiting for this guy to finally get lore, and I feel very well fed. It’s lore I expected from Purpled’s character so so bad I’ve been hearing people fearing for Purpled’s safety, but I’m of the opinion that Purpled is more of a potential threat than a potential victim Let’s go through what we know of the character

Purpled first established himself as a fairly independent and neutral force who makes sure he has the agency to do literally whatever the hell he wants. He puts his own needs first before the needs of other people. If you look at it, besides Dream, he’s one of the few members of the server with very little attachment to people, to other characters. The only person he trusts well enough is Ponk, a character chaotic and gray enough to do scams with Purpled, but a character that is nice and innocent enough (to an extent) as to be fairly below Purpled in regards to their relationship dynamic.

We know this is how their dynamic is, based not only on this Egg stream, but also on the stream about the Estate Conflict (as named by the Wiki)/the Dream SMP Fire Scam (as named by Purpled on his video about it).

Purpled’s one of the many people in the server who are upset for being ignored or being treated inconsiderately. (Like the rest of them, it’s usually due to not being in lore or barely logging into the server. They are motivated to get the server’s attention.) While Jack Manifold and Nihachu started their respective villain arcs, Purpled’s way of coping with this is starting a real estate business. He chose Ponk as his partner, and throughout their attempts to start the business, Ponk has functioned as a yes man to Purpled. Their relationship is based on business, not an established friendship. These two could easily scam each other but saw instead more potential in a partnership.

Knowing Purpled, what fuels him to keep the business going is his desire for money and rewards. Coupled with his property getting tampered with all the time, it’s not hard to see why he’d become so materialistic to the point of scamming people. 

Keep in mind that he’s not just willing to settle with battles, but has the experience to win settlements via battles. Purpled is equipped as a player. Asserting his power this way makes him a threat to other members of the server.

Something that Purpled said to Ponk concerning the Real Estate Business is:

Purpled: Ponk, listen. We have to have good business with these people...and if we make a good deal? If we make a good deal, think about what this means for us. Antfrost is just the beginning, right? Listen, think about how many unpaid houses are there on the server. Think about the land. Think about the land on this server. Think about the Prime path. Think about all... Ponk:...the real estate?

Like, this child’s ambition is absolutely terrifying. It reminds me of whenever Quackity gets serious about something.

If Purpled genuinely wanted to, and like, had the energy for it, he could claim the entire server by profitting off of the land, exploiting anyone with property over it.

This real estate thing was established within December. The blood vine growths were already present. 

We know that the Crimson wants to take over the server, covering the lands in red, right? Y’all seeing this? Ponk saw it. He saw opportunity, and to think he saw it while trying to get out of a sticky situation he had made for himself concerning the Eggpire!

In the Skull Cave, Ponk and Purpled take themselves aside. Purpled is wisely distrusting of Bad, Ant, and Punz. Ponk insisted that the real estate business, or least Purpled himself personally, can mutually benefit with the Eggpire should they work together. Ponk used his experiences with the 3, particularly how accomodating they were of him when he was trapped in the Egg Box-thing, as a reason to convince Purpled the Eggpire was worth their time.

Ponk: This payday right here will set us for life! Real estate to the moon, okay? To the moon! Purpled: Okay? Ponk: Trust me, trust me.

Purpled clearly likes the power he got from the Eggpire of all people, as the deal to kill Captain Puffy went well.

Ponk: Ask for more money! Purpled: Ponk, from what I can tell, they...they can grant me, really, anything that I want. BadBoyHalo: Anything! Purpled: They seem to have a lot of financial backing here. BadBoyHalo: We do. Antfrost: We do, we do! Purpled: Assuming you trust them Ponk, I trust them. And anything I ask for can be mine.

Keep in mind that at this time, Ponk being infected by the Crimson is still in question. (Hell, that’s why he got trapped by the Eggpire again] He has spent significant amounts of time with the Egg, and his eyes may or may have become red (he totally isn’t wearing red contacts, at least according to him). The way the Crimson beckons to people varies but it’s clear to us that it uses attachments and deep desires as its hook. Ponk, based on his period of exposure, whether immune or not, should have deduced this. He knows he made Purpled and himself a powerful ally. The Eggpire knows it’s made a potentially powerful ally in Purpled.

However, I feel that Purpled might become a thorn for the Crimson should it come to it. There’s a reason he trusts Ponk, and there’s a reason as to why Ponk’s level of Crimson influence is difficult to determine.

It’s easy to conclude that Purpled and the Crimson have a common goal: take over and claim the entire server. 

Purpled’s future can go against the Crimson and function as a competitive force. I’m not keen on this as it seems that Quackity is fulfilling this role. Would Purpled team with Quackity? I doubt it, as Purpled has nothing to go with on trusting him + Quackity is allied with Sam on Las Vegas. Sam destroyed Ponk’s lemon tree AND the Real Estate building Purpled owns. If anything, Purpled has many reasons to go against Quackity, who is associated with a person that has offended him and Ponk personally.

Now, if Purpled joined the Crimson, I theorize that this would be out of genuine willingness, and not being forced into its influence. Today he saw the Eggpire as useful--not trustworthy! Useful.

Purpled: Ponk, you can return anytime. As for these three, I do not extend the same offer.

Purpled is confident that he can one up the Eggpire/Crimson with his own ambition, and personally, I see that too. If Purpled joins this group and allows himself to become infected, I don’t think I would see that strong a change in character motivation. I see Purpled proclaiming that he and the Egg share the same interests. If the Crimson acknowledges this desire of his properly, the Eggpire’s power dynamic is subject to change. Think about it. 

Bad’s the main mouthpiece due to the fact that he’s the de-facto head of the Badlands. His motivations don’t quite line up with the Crimson though. He’s tragically serving the Egg for Skeppy’s safety. The Crimson knows this.

The Crimson would be more content to speak through someone who shares its exact goals! Purpled wants the server and so does the Crimson. It may force the group to acknowledge this 17 year old boy as the head and voice of the Eggpire once this is recognized to all of them, as beckoned by the Crimson Egg. The scariest thing is that Purpled doesn’t need to corrupt himself much. The scariest thing is that Purpled is smart and a capable salesman. Purpled has what BadBoyHalo does not: what exactly the Eggpire needs in order to assert itself as a convincing yet threatening force. 

I mean, he’s already willing to do malicious things for profit, what more with a supernatural force that will only goad this ambition on?

#long post #like very long post #karl jacobs saved his hubby quackity #at the cost of letting this child potentially doom the server #puffy there is now a target on you #she's trying to protect kids only for one to outright attempt to kill her #dream smp #dream smp analysis #purpled #dropsbyponk #badboyhalo #antfrost #punz #quackity #awesamdude #the crimson #the eggpire

[herinsectreflection]

Faith, Buffy, Dreams, and Secret Kisses

This is one of my favourite scenes in the series. Partially because it’s just my personal jam - I admit that I am Fuffy trash, and I have a real love for dream sequences. Buffy had great dream sequences, but this is where they take a step up. It’s a precursor to Restless in this regard and others. It feels weighty and meaningful, but also a little off and incongruent with itself, in that way that only dreams are. Lines are exchanged that don’t quite follow as direct responses to each other, clashing in interesting ways. It’s packed with foreshadowing, metaphor, and other juicy things. And beyond that, it’s a conclusion to Buffy’s entire arc this season about dealing with her shadow self, and it leads to what I think is the single most romantic moment in the series. I want to talk about this scene and unpack some of what I think it’s saying.

First of all, let’s talk about the setting. We’re in Faith’s apartment, bought for her by the Mayor. Essentially, the villain’s lair, where the two Big Bads plotted their evil plans against our hero. But it’s also a set where we saw most of the bonding and semi-familial love between Faith and the Mayor. A place of both evil and love. And for Buffy, a place of trauma. This is where she makes the decision and takes the action to kill another human. I don’t think she was unjustified in doing so, but it’s still an immensely traumatic act for her, and I think she loses a little part of herself when she does it. The location is very much a reflection of Faith, and Buffy’s relationship to her. I don’t think Buffy loves Faith romantically at this point, but I think she cares about her, and remains concerned about her, and I think it’s fair to call that a kind of love. Faith is also evil, a figure of betrayal but also temptation to the “dark side”. And she is also a figure of trauma, clear deep-seated trauma that she fails to resolve, and just gets worse over the course of the season. Buffy is essentially inside her own relationship to Faith, inside a stadium of sin, trauma, love, and shattered glass. Faith looks out of the broken window that they fought through, and we are reminded that their relationship too is broken, unrepaired, littered with the detritus of conflict. There’s no going back from this - even in dreams that window remains broken, and their relationship will always have this damage.

The props too are an interesting choice. TPN’s video on Graduation Day pointed out the painting of a giant snake with a man’s head on the wall. More conflicting feelings here - the Mayor is Faith’s closest connection to humanity and love right now, and also the reason for her betrayal of Buffy. Her redemption and damnation. We also see boxes of various things piled up - including the crossbow that Faith stole in Bad Girls. The image of packing up a room into boxes makes me think of moving away as a student. We must remember that Buffy is graduating today, on the verge of packing her life away and taking it somewhere else, and this reminds us of that.

The first thing of real substance we see is the cat, which jumps up on Faith’s bed. This is one of the aspects of this dream in direct conversation with Restless, where a cat symbolises the Slayer - a specifically feminine, solitary predator that stalks the night. In Restless, we cut to Miss Kitty stalking the camera from shots of the First slayer stalking Willow. Here though, the intercut images are between the cat and Faith, lying bruised and helpless in a hospital. The cat (and the Slayer) is, as far as Buffy is concerned, not a danger but a creature in need of help.

Buffy: "Who's going to look after him?" Faith: "It's a she. And aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"

They’re very clearly talking about their respective approaches to slaying, and to life in general. Buffy tries to encourage ties to humanity, telling Faith back in Revelations that she is on Faith’s side. Faith retorts that she alone is on her side, and she repeats that sentiment here. But Buffy is obviously proved right - Faith is lying almost dead because she rejected all help and care.

Buffy: "A higher power guiding us?" Faith: "I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant."

If the cat is the Slayer in this conversation, then the “higher power guiding us” could refer to the Watchers. It makes sense that Buffy delivers this line with a little wry smile, given that she’s just resigned herself from the Council. This allows a little bit of ambiguity in their debate - Buffy has taken on a little bit of Faith’s advice in emancipating herself and so making herself as the Slayer more self-reliant. The show agrees that that too is the right move. A little independence is good and healthy. What Faith means when she talks about “taking care of herself” is not self-reliance or independence, but emotional hardness and self-marooning to avoid hurt. This is something that Buffy will continue to struggle with for the rest of the series. Faith is kind of right when she states that the Slayer is alone and must take care of herself, and it’s up to Buffy to find a healthy way of dealing with that.

"Oh yeah. Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0.”

The scene shifts a little, and we get some foreshadowing for Dawn (Little Miss Muffet), and for Buffy’s death (730 days from now). This is done with the the lighting too, as Faith faces the camera, and the light of the dawn hits her face, in a shot extremely similar to the end of The Gift.

Interestingly, Faith is repeatedly used in this way. In This Year’s Girl, Faith talks about “little sis coming” as she and Buffy make the bed in her first dream. In Restless, that scene gets a callback (”Faith and I just made that bed”), in a scene that ends with the most anvilicious foreshadowing (”Be back before dawn”), as well as a callback to the 7-3-0 line (”Oh, that clock’s all wrong”). In Graduation Day, Faith refers to Buffy as being “dressed up in big sister’s clothes”, however to me Faith has always felt more as being the “little sister” in this relationship. She looks up to Buffy yet is also deeply jealous of her. She wants to be Buffy, to have her friends, her life, the love of her mother. She’s kind of a precursor to Dawn in this respect, so it makes sense that she’s a prophet for her coming.

Slayers having prophetic dreams is well-established, so it makes sense that a dream shared by two slayers would allow them to prophesise a little further ahead in time. Faith hints at this, remarking "Sorry, it's my head. A lot of new stuff.". You have to wonder what other “new stuff” Faith is becoming aware of. Perhaps a new perspective on everything Buffy’s been saying all season. Sharing a mind temporarily is often helpful in seeing another’s point of view. Faith does seem unusually thoughtful as she looks out of the broken window and remarks "They are never going to fix this, are they?".

This is perhaps my favourite line in the scene. It’s a slight mislead, as it comes right as we get a flash of the cat-as-Faith in the foreground. So we assume it’s a reference to her own injuries, which she is expected to never recover from.

But the Faith that’s talking isn’t looking at her own body. She’s looking at the broken window. The symbol for her broken relationship with Buffy. She has become us, the audience, looking at Buffy and Faith and saying “boy, those crazy kids really are never going to work it out, are they?”. It’s true for Faith, it’s true for Faith&Buffy, and it’s true for Buffy herself. When that knife entered Faith’s gut, all three were irrevocably changed forever. You can never put back the life you had before after it’s broken like that. All you can do is take what you can work with, and try to make something new.

Buffy: "What about you?" Faith: "Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades." Buffy confirms that the previous line was not about Faith specifically by asking “what about you”, in a lovely expression of concern. After everything, Buffy does still care about Faith. Faith’s reply of “scar tissue” is an obvious reference to the literal wound she is now carrying (emphasised by the shot of the knife that Buffy sees afterwards), but it’s interesting that she gestures to her face when she says this. It feels like a reference to her entire self. If we accept Faith as Buffy’s shadow self, then “scar tissue” is an accurate description of her. As Buffy herself says, Faith is who she could be if her life was worse (or, perhaps, who she would be if she allowed the tragedies of her life to rule her). She is the part of Buffy’s unconscious self that is revealed after receiving violence. She is the physical proof of trauma. The self that remains after pain. 

Buffy: “Is this your mind or mine?” Again, hitting that note of symbiosis; emphasising how inextricably tied these two characters are. The lines between their psyches are blurred to the point of no longer existing. This is such an intimate moment, almost sexual, with Buffy and Faith unable to tell where their own mind ends and another begins. Imagine the intimacy of that - entering another’s mental space and allowing them into yours, so wholly that they become one and the same. It becomes a mutual recognition of unity and shared pain, and an affirmation of the eternal divisions between them.

I love the ambiguity of the “human weakness” line too. One way we are invited to read it is that Faith is doing a heel-face turn, and intentionally giving Buffy the means to defeat the Mayor. But we’re not allowed anything that easy, to wash away Faith’s sins with a quick redemption before the climax. Faith has miles to go before she can achieve that. It’s just as likely that Faith is talking about herself, and the human weakness that led her down a dark path, or that Buffy is talking about Faith through the Faith in her head, or Buffy is just working it out on her own, etc, etc. This is the information that saves the world, and I like that it remains an unknown. A permanent “maybe”, just as Buffy and Faith’s relationship is. 

Buffy: "How are you going to fit all this stuff?" Faith: "Not gonna. It's yours." Buffy: "I can't use all of this!" Faith: "Just take what you need. You're ready?"

As the scene reaches its climax, we see the most obvious recitation of the season’s themes. S3 is about Buffy coming into conflict with her own shadow self, and here the show tells us how she does that - by taking what she needs. I mentioned earlier that we saw the crossbow from Bad Girls, from the “want/take/have” scene. Here, Faith is telling her the same thing, but in a more healthy way. She cannot just hedonistically consume everything like a crazed id-monster, but she also cannot deny herself things that she needs. 

Most importantly, the “stuff” they are referring to is Faith’s, but as Faith says, it’s also Buffy’s. Everything that Faith is, Buffy is too, because she is her shadow self. Buffy must recognise this, accept it, and incorporate the shadow self into her own identity. She cannot be consumed by the shadow self and simply become Faith, allowing her shadow to consume her conscious personality (”how are you going to fit all this stuff?”). Instead she must recognise her dark mirror, and take the healthy parts, and integrate them into herself as an individual (”take what you need”).

It is at this point of healing and merging between Buffy’s self and shadow self that Faith reaches out, almost touches her in an action that feels so tender, and Buffy becomes conscious. She literally becomes her conscious self by making peace with her dream (unconscious self). She stands up, and walks over to Faith’s bed. This is the moment that their relationship all season has been leading to. She leans over, and places a kiss on her forehead.

This kiss is everything. It’s an act of thanks, as Buffy realises Faith may have given her what she needs to save the day (at the cost of Faith’s one familial figure). It is an act of service, as Buffy literally gives Faith the kiss she asked for when they started to fight in Graduation Day. It could also be an act of forgiveness. We know from I Only Have Eyes For You that forgiveness, Buffy learns, is done not because somebody deserves it, but because they need it. Faith at this point probably does not deserve it, does not want forgiveness (she wants to be punished), nor can she recognise it in her current state, but Buffy gives it anyway, adding another layer of heartbreak. It is given not for any purpose, but for its own sake.

Above all though, this is an act of recognition. We must consider the previous forehead-kiss that these two shared, back in Enemies, and Faith’s words directly before: “What are you gonna do, B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that, yet.” And in Graduation Day, just after Buffy stabs her: “You did it. You killed me.” And her words in the dream, just a few seconds ago: “You're ready?"

Now I don’t think that Buffy stabbing Faith to save Angel is morally equivalent to Faith voluntarily killing people to help an evil guy become a big snake. I don’t think the show wants us to think that either. But the line is firmly blurred. Angel says in Consequences that the act of taking a life will change Faith irrevocably, and Faith agrees. She sees herself as tainted from that point on, and if Buffy took her life, she would be tainted too. And though it’s understandable and morally defensible, there’s no doubt that a part of Buffy - her innocence - dies on that balcony when she sticks that knife in. That act is forever. The choice to do violence is permanent. 

So when Faith says “you killed me”, she is saying “you have become me”. She identifies a common nature in them. And when Buffy kisses her, returning it in the exact same way as when Faith first said those words, she is saying “I know”. She recognises and responds to Faith’s mirror by holding up one of her own. She matches similarity with similarity. She is finally “ready” to assimilate her shadow self, and does it by telling her shadow self that she sees her, and that she was right. 

The beautiful part of all this is that it is silent. Faith would’ve been aware of their unification in the dreamscape, since it was happening in both of their heads, but she has no way of knowing about this. I wonder if Buffy would ever tell her. I doubt it. This is the core of the Faith/Buffy tragedy. This is why I find this relationship so compelling. Buffy performs this act of recognition and devotion entirely in secret. It is a stolen kiss and a private confession. A whisper made to a sleeping lover. A letter written, sealed, stamped, and set on fire. It is an act of love and tenderness made entirely for its own sake, without witness or reward. 

This is the single most romantic moment of the show for me. In this show that in many ways about how when nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do, what could be more romantic than this gentle kiss that changes nothing against this aching hole of violence and betrayal between them, but exists anyway, just because Buffy felt it needed to be done. It’s a silent moment that nobody but Buffy and us are privy to. Neither Faith nor the rest of the world will ever know it happened, but I know I for one will never forget.

#btvs #buffy summers #faith lehane #graduation day #fuffy #s3 #meta

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - “Rapunzel Knows Best!” ( A first half of S3 Recap)

So I decided to place the recap after Be Very Afraid for several reasons. For starters it’s where the season three hiatus took place. It’s also framed like a cliffhanger episode the same as The Great Tree and Queen for a Day; so while Cassandra’s Revenge is technically the midseason finale, Be Very Afraid functionally servers this narrative purpose better. Finally I want to keep the Cassandra heavy stuff contained in it’s own recap later same as I did for Varian’s arc in season one. 

Also keep in mind, everything I discussed in previous recaps still apply here. Nothings changed and you could argue that the issues I bring up now could have also apply to past seasons; they just happen to be at their worst here. 

Here are the past recaps 

To Filler or Not to Filler

Hey, What Ever Happened to That Varitas, Guy?

What Is the Point?

‘Whatta Twist’

And here are the episodes that’s covered in this recap

Rapunzel’s Return Part 1

Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Return of the King 

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne

No Time Like the Past

Beginnings 

The King and Queen of Hearts

Day of the Animals 

Be Very Afraid 

Poorly Defined Conflicts 

I’m not just talking about Cassandra’s lack of goals here either, though that is a part of it. I mean in several episodes the central conflict isn’t laid out clearly enough before being resolved.  We flip from one set up to the next without ever resolving the first; like in Rapunzel’s Return when Cass and Varian fight for screen time or whenever Rapunzel is suppose to learn one lesson only for someone else to learn a completely different lesson in every other episode. And to this day I don’t know what Rapunzel and Feldspar’s subplot in Lost Treasure was suppose to be about. 

There’s also of course the ill-defined overall conflict; which at this point has become convoluted and nonsensical to the extreme, and will only grow more aggravatingly stupid as the season progresses. The main villains lack clear goals, their motivations don’t align with previously stated facts, and the actual interesting conflict involving the threat of the rocks and their destruction of people’s lives and homes is just shoved under the rug and forgotten about.  

There is no story without conflict. Having the conflict be all over the place is not only confusing but makes it harder for the audience to invest in what’s going on. 

Failed Narrative Promises 

Tying in with the above statement regarding conflicts, we have failed narrative promises. Rapunzel is repeatedly told to that she needs to learn something in several episodes only for her not to learn it at all. She either learns some unrelated ‘lesson’ that wasn’t established, (like in Rapunzel’s Return with her pervious goal about ‘opening up to others’ being switched out for a generic ‘responsibility’ lesson that at the last minute, where she doesn’t even do anything responsible,) or she winds up ‘teaching’ the opposite lesson to a different character thereby rewarding her for her bad behavior.   

And that’s just within the induvial episodes themselves; there’s also broken narrative promises through out the overall story arc; like...

no justice/redemption for Lady Caine, 

no acknowledgment that the Saporians are the victims of colonization

no conclusion regarding Corona’s murky past

no satisfying ending to Varian’s plot that sees everyone in involve grow

a poor copout of an explanation for Cassandra’s face/heel turn

The Dark Prince reveal going nowhere 

The Brotherhood being put on a bus 

King Frederic, or any royal, not being held accountable for their past actions 

Lance’s new found responsibilities just being thrown away for the tenth time 

The Disciples plot being being dropped 

next to nothing in season two winds up being relevant 

And Rapunzel, the protagonist of a coming of age story, fails to learn anything at all 

I could probably go on but you get the gist. Tangled is incredibly frustrating show to watch because doesn’t deliver what it promises. You’re not being clever by ‘subverting audiences expectations’ unless you can justify your narrative decisions with previous set up. Tangled is too lazy to build proper set ups so it’s ‘twists’ leave you wanting to punch things rather then impressing you. 

Character Assassinations 

Every single character in Tangled the Series gets thrown under a bus, driven off a cliff, and then allowed to drown in the ocean of their completely unaware self-congratulatory smugness.  

Rapunzel is turned into a bully

Cassandra is given the idiot ball to hold permanently 

The King and Queen are lobotomized

Quinin gets replaced by a robot  

The rest of the Brotherhood are pale shadows of what they could have been 

Edmund is transformed from tragic complex figure into a dumb jerkoff who abuses his kid for a laugh 

Zhan Tiri, once an ancient demon warlock, is reduced to a floating impotent ghost girl 

The Saporians become poor hipster parodies

Cap is put on a bus

Any villain who isn’t Cass is gets ignored

Lance is infantilized to the point of absurdity

Eugene becomes a doormat 

and poor Varian is forced to become a complacent victim to his abusers as oppose to being allowed to keeping his dignity 

I think the only person who escapes this mass murder of characterization is freaking Calliope, and she’s hasn’t even appeared yet! (Well okay her and Trevor, maybe) 

This all ties back into the poorly defined conflict and failed narrative promises. Rather than let the characters drive the story, they’ve become puppets to the plot, and plot is really stupid and forced, and circles back in on itself and is full of contradictions. 

Manipulating the Audience’s Empathy to Do the Work for the Writers  

The reason why the creators believe they can get away with such poor characterization and lazy writing is because they expect the audience to do all the heavy lifting for them.  

Cass isn’t given an on screen reason for what she does because they’re hoping her fans will just automatically excuse her because they like her/relate to her and not, you know, get mad at the writers for dumbing her down. And after all who doesn’t love the creator’s pet? Meanies! That’s who! 

No one calls out Rapunzel’s bullshit on screen, because if everyone likes her, then you, viewing audience, should too. Because if you have any sort of independent critical thinking abilities and a sense of right and wrong then clearly you’re ‘just a hater’. 

Everyone should just shut up and be satisfied that Varian is even on screen now and be grateful for the scraps that they get cause he’s not the real point of the show and according to Chris ‘Varian fans aren’t real fans’. Even though they make up most of his viewing audience. 

I could go on, but it’s just variations of the above. The writing in this series is very fond of gaslighting the audience and trying to trick them into justifying the absolute worst behaviors while desperately hoping they doesn’t noticed the continued downgrading and dismissal of characters they do like or once liked.  

And the sad thing is, it’s worked. There are people to this day that still try to justify this show’s shitty morals and bend over backwards to excuse the likes of Rapunzel, Frederic, Cassandra, and Edmund.  Worst, there are loud sections of the fandom, (usually on twitter) who think bullying is okay and follow in Chris and his characters footsteps. Most of them young impressionable girls who are now ripe for TREFS to indoctrinate because they use the same bullying tactics and excuses for authoritarianism. 

Media does effect reality, but not in the way purists and antis would have you believe. No one is going to become a violent manic from playing a video game nor a sex offender because they read a smut fic. But they very much will conform to toxic beliefs if it’s repeated enough at them by authorities they ‘trust’; like say the world wide leading company known for family entertainment and children’s media, and the ‘friends’ they find within the fandom for said company... 

I’m not saying you can’t enjoy Tangled the series or that you’re some how wrong for liking it’s characters, nor do you have to engage with every or any criticism thrown it’s way. But yes you need to think about the media you consume on some level and valid criticism is very much important to the fandom experience for precisely the above reasons. 

Conclusion    

This isn’t even the tip of the iceberg of what’s wrong with this show, but it is most of its biggest problems laid bare. Anything that haven’t covered here or in the past recaps will be explored in the final recap. Cause this is it folks; the last leg of the journey for this retrospective. When come back, hopefully next week, we’ll tackle Pascal’s Dragon.  

#tangled #anti-tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta

[ilikekidsshows]

Hey, I was wondering if you could talk more about what you thought about the conflict that happened between Ladybug and Chat Noir in the new york special?

Certainly. Mainly, it’s the same issue we saw in ‘Glaciator’ but manifesting in a different way: these two tend to misunderstand the relationship between them because of their personal experiences and expectations, which tend to naturally be in conflict because of the very different pasts the two characters have. I also think the conflict was two-sided and only one side of the issue at hand was solved. We had Cat Noir’s dishonesty and Ladybug’s inability to act as a comforter, with only the former being solved.

Since it's the one that gets resolved and it's more straightforward, let's start with Cat Noir's side. He's the child of a strict, emotionally abusive father and we've repeatedly seen that he projects his relationship with his father into his relationship with Ladybug, and here it happens again. Gabriel would not let Adrien do what he doesn't allow and we've seen what he does when Adrien disappoints him: punishes him severely.

Strict parents don’t raise obedient children, they raise children who lie well. And Adrien had more of a motive to be deceitful than most. This special was the first time Ladybug gave him responsibility over something. If he said he couldn’t do it, would she ever trust him with anything again? Or, would she simply tell him to suck it up and do as he’s told, forcing Adrien to choose between her and his father in their demands of him? And Plagg, who I will point out, has been actively more helpful in season three, actually helped Adrien come up with a plan that, to their reasonable expectations, would not have led to anyone being hurt or disappointed, so Adrien obviously saw that simply not letting Ladybug know that he wouldn’t be physically present in Paris would work out. Adrien even was responsible about it; he kept himself actively informed of the situation in Paris up until he was made to put his phone away. And then things went to hell in a handbasket at the worst possible moment.

However, here comes the fault in Adrien’s reasoning, which was very reasonable to him and his implied-to-be equally abused Kwami: Ladybug is nothing like Gabriel. Marinette would have heard him out and they’d have come up with a plan together to deal with the situation, as long as Cat Noir got a hold of her soon enough for them to meet up and make a plan. We don’t really know what the time frame is between Adrien finding out and the departure of the plane to New York, but, considering Plagg stopped Adrien from contacting Ladybug, and no time constraint was mentioned, they’d have had plenty of time.

This is the beginning and end of Adrien’s half of the conflict. After this point, he’s merely reacting to what he thinks are clear signals from Ladybug. He tries to help with the villain the best he can, while Ladybug keeps distracting him by berating him in the middle of the fight, finally breaking his will to fight entirely by declaring she can’t trust him anymore, one of the nightmare scenarios I mentioned earlier. Add to that the villain using his power to harm Uncanny, he was convinced that Ladybug would be better off with any other partner. When Ladybug didn’t refute his assessment that he was a failure and no good hero, he decided he was right and abandoned his ring. However, when Uncanny revealed to him that Ladybug did, in fact, still need him specifically as her partner, he came back, deciding that it didn’t matter if he was a worthless failure as long as Ladybug would find a use for him anyway. Adrien repeatedly describes himself negatively in comparison to others, his self esteem is awful, but that wasn’t really a matter being handled in the special.

When Cat Noir made it to Ladybug and was instantly welcomed back, he apologised for not being honest and Ladybug signalled her forgiveness with a fistbump. This gesture signalled to Adrien that he could trust Ladybug and that Ladybug trusted him back, that the things she’d said in anger were just that. This showed Adrien in a blatant way that Ladybug was nothing like Gabriel, who would have lorded Adrien’s failure over him and punished him, instead of accepting his assurance that he’ll do better next time. This was an important lesson to Adrien, because he needs to be as honest with Ladybug as their secret identities allow because they’re a team and can’t go doing things independently when it affects them both. Adrien’s experiences in the special are ones that will specifically help him overcome his character flaw of being too distructful of others’ intentions when it comes to Ladybug.

Then comes Marinette’s side, and this one is more complex. While how badly she was distracted in that fight and how badly she distracted Cat Noir was an issue in and of itself, it wasn’t the thing on her part that escalated the conflict. It was merely what set up her state of mind. What escalated the conflict were the things she said in anger that she didn’t take back while Cat Noir was clearly falling apart. Marinette was understandably upset by what happened in Paris, but she made a very big mistake with how she handled that: she focused only on herself. Marinette needed comfort because she couldn’t heal Paris, but Cat Noir needed comfort because they could do nothing to help Paris, he’d just temporarily killed someone and he felt like a failure as a partner. But, when Cat Noir didn’t instantly move to assure her that she was fine, Marinette turned her back on him and walked away. She wanted space, because Marinette usually finds a quiet corner to think when she’s dealing with something, but Adrien saw that as a rejection. And when Cat Noir voiced all these things going on in his mind, she was silent, making him feel like she was condemning him, seeing him as worthlessly as he did. So he decided to leave her so that she could find a better partner.

Marinette also has her own misconceptions about her and Cat Noir’s relationship. This is another thing I noticed in ‘Glaciator’: Marinette doesn’t think Cat Noir is an actual human being with real human emotions and problems. She got better about it after ‘Glaciator’, like accepting his feelings for her as genuine, but she still doesn’t understand that Cat Noir can get hurt emotionally and might need a bit of support every once in a while. In fact, in ‘Timetagger’, she blatantly shuts him down when he’s looking for affirmation, claiming he “already knows he’s the best”, when Adrien actually has very poor self esteem. I mentioned in another comment that Marinette sees Cat Noir as a fae-like being, someone who only goofs around and supports her, and is never touched by worldly things like pain and sadness. The only threat to him are the supervillains they face. Every time one of them has shown a need for comfort, it’s been Ladybug, and Cat Noir has always been the one to comfort her. They’re stuck in these roles, and Marinette doesn’t know how to break out of them when Cat Noir is the one needing comfort and support. To drive this aspect of the conflict home, this is the direct reverse of the situation in ‘Miracle Queen’. In ‘Miracle Queen’, Marinette makes a mistake with real consequences, gets Fu’s identity revealed to Hawk Moth which led to his capture, but Cat Noir overlooks that to support her instead. In the special, Cat Noir’s mistake causes property damage in Paris that they can’t undo, but Marinette can’t overlook it to support her partner through his mistake.

Here’s the thing: Marinette has a good life. She has a supportive family and supportive friends. This gives her a solid foundation as a superhero and it means she’s used to people picking her up when she falls down. It’s not just her relationship with Cat Noir that’s characterized by the idea that support just shows up when she needs it. Heck, at the end of ‘Love Hunter’, Luka seemingly magically appears for the sole purpose of giving Marinette some comfort. However, we’ve seen some hints, mostly in ‘Weredad’, that at least her dad wants to overly protect her. We don’t know how well Marinette would actually take Adrien rejecting her, but, considering how miserable she was repeatedly in season two over just not getting to see him, I suspect not well, and her dad was convinced she’d go as far as being easily shattered by that. Children need to feel small disappointments to be able to handle the actual hurdles they’ll face later in life. The way Marinette becomes an anxious mess over failing at something reminds me of myself as a teenager, and I was a very shielded child. My mom pampered me, not by much, but enough that I had to learn to pick myself and others up at a later age. And I feel that’s a lesson Marinette needs to learn as well.

We saw from what Marinette said to Uncanny that she didn’t think Cat Noir’s mistake was irreparable. She didn’t mean the gestures I described earlier as how Adrien saw them. She didn’t mean to turn her back on him to reject him and she didn’t mean her silence to be read as her agreeing that he was a bad partner. But she never once considered that she might be sending Cat Noir these signals, even as Cat Noir told her how he felt about himself in relation to her. Instead of supporting her partner by saying anything to refute his self-disparaging comments, or even sharing their pain together, Marinette remains silent, experiencing her own pain alone and leaving Cat Noir with his. Marinette is a good leader, but she’s not a good partner, because she lacks the ability to support Cat Noir. This isn’t her fault, it’s a character flaw like Adrien’s distrust of others to consider his well being in any scenario. However, it’s one that’s harder to fix than Adrien’s, because Adrien’s flaw is one of perception, so he just needs to see contrary evidence to learn better. Marinette’s issue is that she lacks important skills for comforting someone: spotting a need and responding to it. I’m pretty sure we haven’t seen Marinette actively comfort anyone during the entire series. It’s very likely she’s never had to do so before the moment with Cat Noir in this special.

This is why Adrien leaving her was so important to Marinette’s future growth as a partner specifically. Technically Marinette needed it to happen. Marinette had to learn that you can’t expect someone to be there indefinitely if you never let them know you want them there, and she had to learn that Cat Noir needs her to reciprocate the supportive relationship between them instead of only enjoying the benefits of her partner’s almost unwavering support. An unequal relationship will not last. If you just keep someone around for their comfort, they’ll leave you once they have none left to give. If you just keep someone around for their good days, they’ll leave you once their bad days come. But in this special we saw Marinette taking the first steps towards realizing her partner’s humanity, ergo, fixing the part of the issue that’s in her perception: she was still thinking about him when she was Marinette. I noted in ‘Glaciator’ that Marinette usually stops thinking about Cat Noir once she’s Marinette again, which is part of that whole “seeing him as otherworldly” thing. Breaking out of that mindset is as important as it is for Adrien to break out of the “everyone would turn on me if I didn’t please them 24/7” one.

Basically: the conflict was resolved, but it showed where development still needs to happen.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml meta #dats chats #long post #popular

[bestworstcase]

Do you think Rapunzel can be condescending at times?

absolutely yeah

as is the case with most of rapunzel's flaws, it's most evident in her interactions with cassandra because frankly - ok i have to back up here a little and start this off with a hot take™

i don't think rapunzel likes who cassandra is very much.

she does love cassandra. she desperately wants to be friends with cassandra, and she enjoys spending time with cassandra.

but the cass rapunzel knows is this very dependable, steady person who showed her the ropes of coronan society and is always sort of there to provide support when rapunzel needs it, and who is also blunt-spoken, honest, maybe a little too closed off, and a little rough around the edges.

when... the reality is that cassandra is a very ambitious young woman whose driving motivation is to leave. she is a dependable steady presence at rapunzel's side because that is her job. she wants to be a guard. she wants to be respected and seen as her own person. she is very carefully trying to thread the needle of genuinely being rapunzel's friend whilst also fulfilling the requirements of her duty as rapunzel's servant, which necessitates being very careful about what parts of herself she reveals to rapunzel. she's brash. she's very independent. she likes to fight. she feels constrained and stifled in coronan society generally and in rapunzel's shadow specifically.

every single time rapunzel gets a real glimpse of this reality she reacts... well, in pretty condescending ways.

cassandra thinks a romantic holiday is annoying and stupid? rapunzel concludes that she is deeply unhappy because she's single and makes it her mission to cheer cass up, ignoring cassandra's repeated and increasingly firm attempts to get her to stop.

cassandra says something is going on that she isn't ready to talk about and asks rapunzel to be patient until cass is ready to discuss it? rapunzel stalks her to find out what it is, and then blames all the consequences of that decision on cass because if cass had just told her everything then rapunzel wouldn't have interfered.

cassandra breaks her leg and, after having it properly seen to by a doctor, asks to be left alone so she can rest while she heals up, and then gets increasingly frustrated and cranky when rapunzel refuses to stop bothering her? rapunzel can't fathom why cass won't accept her "help" and implies the situation is equivalent to red and angry running away.

cassandra vibes with the vardarans and happily incites a street brawl for fun and to drum up excitement for rapunzel's goodwill festival? rapunzel scolds her ("we're supposed to be celebrating goodwill!") and then tries to apologize to the sheriff on her behalf.

cassandra tries to tell rapunzel that she feels insecure because rapunzel no longer trusts her judgment, and rapunzel shuts her down hard because "i'm going to be the queen someday, and i'm going to make decisions you don't agree with, and i need you to be okay with that."

cassandra is hurt and angry because rapunzel's decision-making left her disabled and likely in horrific and constant pain? rapunzel gets mad at her, blames her for the injury, refuses to apologize, and purposefully isolates cassandra from everyone else in the group including owl with the intention of forcing cass to make up with her so things can go back to normal between them.

like...

every time they have a conflict, no matter how large or small, rapunzel's instinctive reaction is to assume that cassandra is the problem. and that's where the condescension springs from. she has this... underlying and i think probably subconscious feeling that cassandra's independence, her boundaries, her rough edges, her feelings that do not align with what rapunzel wants her to feel... that in small doses these things are okay, even appealing, but the instant they come into conflict with what rapunzel wants or thinks they become. A Problem. that needs to be Fixed.

this happens from time to time with other characters as well but with cassandra it is constant, i think probably because their personalities are so wildly different in so many different ways.

allllllllso there is an extent to which toxic positivity is just. innately condescending in and of itself. like forcing this upbeat peppy attitude on people is inherently patronizing. so there's also this like low-grade constant background radiation of condescension going on as well.

also also, i 100% believe this was an intended flaw and my pet conspiracy theory about the likely executive meddling in s3 was that the tts writing team was forced to scrap an arc that would have involved rapunzel reckoning with this, and i think we can actually still see the vestiges left over. consider the following:

1. in crossing the line, cassandra outright says that rapunzel has been condescending to her for the entirety of their relationship: "this has to stop now/this thing where you think that you've been my friend/and don't even hear how you condescend/the way you've always done" -> crossing the line in general has this odd dissonance with the rest of cassandra's villain arc where, in CTL, cass is very much focusing on rapunzel's treatment of her and the unfairness of her own position in corona more generally - all of which gets swept under the rug in the rest of s3.

2. in both rapunzeltopia and s3 a point is made of emphasizing that rapunzel's view of cass is lady-in-waiting cassandra. lotus dream cass cheerfully occupies her role as rapunzel's servant, and only appears as her "real" self (represented by her appearing in her preferred outfit) once the dream is twisted into a nightmare. and in s3, rapunzel reaches past all of cassandra's weapons - possessions that actually represent who cass is - to cry into her lady-in-waiting uniform; and every time she reminisces about cass, it's cass in the dress. it's never spelled out but the implication of all this is pretty damn clear.

3. at the end of plus est en vous rapunzel says that she always thought cassandra's place was beside her in corona, but acknowledges that was wrong and that cass deserves to leave and be free and live her own life outside of those constraints. she never quite apologizes - because evidently disney vetoed the princess being framed as in the wrong in any way - but there's still a marked difference between the attitude implied by that statement and the attitude she displays towards cass throughout the rest of the show.

so, this is my theory for how s3 was intended to play out originally:

- gothel is merely the last straw. cassandra takes the moonstone and flees after spitting rapunzel's last bit of condescension back in her face.

- zhan tiri encourages cassandra to ruminate on everything rapunzel did that hurt her, slowly cultivating the smoldering embers of her anger into an uncontrollable inferno.

- meanwhile rapunzel struggles to make sense cassandra's betrayal while it slowly dawns on her that... maybe cass was right. maybe she is condescending. maybe she did take cass for granted, and maybe she doesn't know cass as well as she thought she did.

- the symbolism rapunzeltopia set up of this divide between Happy Servant Cass In Her Gown on the one hand and Angry Vengeful Cass In Her Own Clothes + Burnt Hand becomes a visual shorthand the way rapunzel views cassandra, with Happy Servant Cass slowly being discarded as rapunzel more and more sees cass as she truly is: an independent person who has been terribly hurt by the way rapunzel treated her, despite rapunzel having the best intentions

- when they are trapped during zhan tiri's rampage, this is the subject of their conversation rather than rapunzel randomly apologizing for being an obnoxious flower child in the first few weeks; she talks about the traits that she saw that made her want to be friends with cass, and then segues into talking about how despite how much she cares about cass she really... didn't know cass that well, didn't bother to get to know her, and took for granted that cass would always be there and how that led to cass suffering so much pain - both emotionally and physically - and that's what she apologizes for.

- and then all this leads much more naturally into what rapunzel says when she and cass are saying goodbye at the very end, because we've seen that character growth happening on screen.

but since rapunzel wasn't allowed to be wrong because disney princess brand, most of this arc had to be ripped out and all we're left with is these weird hints around the edges of the hole it left behind.

#i sort of drifted away from the question but i think about this all the time #we can see! like! shadows! of character dev that once was there!!! #tts

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Hermitopia AU Conclusion

The last ask has been answered, the masterposts are complete, and (although art, writing, and Discord discussion are still accepted and encouraged) it is finally time to officially wrap up the Hermitopia AU! Because this was such a massive event - and no small thing to moderate - there will be a pause in blog activity for a day or so before the inbox will open for regular headcanons again. I apologize in advance for the wait!

In the mean time, I would just like to say: I am so, so thankful to everyone who participated in the AU. Your ideas and your creativity have made this blog a better place, whether you sent in one headcanon or dozens, and I am constantly in awe of the energy and enthusiasm of this community. Thank you, all of you, for making this universe we’ve created as vast and as interesting as it turned out to be.

Below are a collection of my own ideas, for those of you who like a satisfying (but still not entirely closed-ended) ending. These events take place as many days, months, or years into the future as you need them to make your own ideas work, and none of them are set in stone. You can take all of them, some of them, or none of them as truth if you want to...but either way, it has been an honour to build on a project like this one alongside you all.

And with that...the Hermitopia AU concludes! Finished, or barely begun, like so many good projects are. Have a great day everyone, and happy headcanoning!

- Mod Shade

"People of Hermitopia."

The man on the screen shifts, running a nervous hand across his bald head and squaring his shoulders. The broadcast quality is unstable, but it's more than enough for every citizen in the city to recognize who's speaking.

"This is your Concorp Branch Director, Cub. As I'm sure you are aware, I am the head of Project VEX in this city. You all know the VEX initiative as groundbreaking, life-saving, a shining success and a step towards a new era for humanity...and some of you may even see me as a hero for creating it.”

He closes his eyes, a brief look of pained remorse crossing his face. For a moment, he looks utterly defeated, almost small in the face of his impromptu audience of thousands...but finally, he fixes the camera with a steady gaze once more and begins the great unravelling.

“Maybe it was all those things, in the beginning. Maybe *I* was, once. But today, after far too long, I have some confessions to make...."

~

- For years, Cub had been desperately scrambling to hold the tatters of his life’s work together. Project VEX had started so well, and he had poured so much of himself into it, that when the failed experiments and rebellions became more and more frequent he was unable to accept a change of course. He covered up the project’s failings to maintain funding and public image, but mostly to maintain his own image to himself - that he was still the hero he’d set out to be and create at the project’s start. However, his denial was wearing on him heavily, and eventually he had a breakdown and decided to go public rather than keep drowning the city in lies.

- This breakdown was prompted by xB, who after his own moral breakthrough, confronted Cub and urged him to stop withholding knowledge and truth. xB also informed Cub of his own unknown truth - that the unintended power of his presence was the thing that was keeping the experiments successful when Cub was around. This was the final straw in breaking through Cub’s denial

- Along with Cub’s broadcasted speech, files were released to the media containing proof against most if not all of Concorp’s falsehoods. Many names were cleared of crimes that had been pinned on them, including Beef, Impulse, Doc, Cleo, and the majority of the other Unrestrained and Unaffiliated former VEX trainees that the company had tried to cast away

- Understandably, it took a very long time for the chaos to die down and all that information to be processed by society and the justice system. It may be years before the community can see some of their heroes in the proper light again, but at least they are now free to begin rebuilding their reputation without being labeled as villains and traitors.

- Those who actually did commit villainous acts are given a fair trial, with consideration for their motives and the new Concorp information as extra evidence

- The VEX program is withdrawn by Cub’s superiors and put under a strict review. It is reborn after a massive restructuring, with a new director, new limitations on what experiments can and cannot be attempted, and a greatly extended screening and training program to reduce the chances of graduates becoming villains. The new project will produce far fewer heroes with much subtler powers at first...but if that is the cost for the safety and stability of the city, then most people would agree that it is a small price to pay.

- Cub is not permitted to work on the new Project VEX in a management role, ever again. It’s a harsh blow for him, to have to watch his dream from the sidelines...but he knows he gave up the right to guide it when he abused the control that it gave him. At least his superiors allowed him something to do while he awaits trial: he is present (although guarded) at every new VEX trainee’s first experiment, lending his power to increase their chances of success.

- Mayor Scar resigned willingly. Nobody had enough evidence to accuse him of anything, and he didn’t plan on giving them a reason to look by trying to stay in office. Instead he chose to make his exit from both Concorp and government matters complete, at last. Or so he thinks. Who knows? Maybe he’ll learn what most of the people he’s helped to manipulate have already found out: that connections and old grudges don’t easily lose their grip.

- Scar is replaced by TFC, voted in by almost unanimous community support and funded by donations from all the people he’s saved over the years

- The greater Convex company offers a choice to the survivors of the old program: Come to work under their new, more honorable system, or take a generously large settlement and be free to build new lives

- Team ZIT declines the job offer, pooling their payment and using it to buy a shiny new base together for their independent hero venture. There are still a handful of real villains to fight, after all, and there are bound to be more once people start successfully copying Concorp technology. Now that Impulse is back at their side, they wouldn’t give up their roles saving the community for anything - but they’re done with being used by some guy behind a desk. From now on, justice and bravery will be their only guides!

- ...justice, bravery, and TFC, that is. He isn’t their boss by any means, but the more experienced hero does drop by often between his mayoral duties to make sure the youngsters stay out of trouble and in one piece.

- The nHo, according to all official records, took their settlements and split up, leaving Hermitopia far behind. However, Team ZIT suspects that the vigilante life hasn’t left them so easily. They’d be the last ones to report the odd sighting of a whipping vine or a distant masked figure, though - unregulated as they are, the nHo’s shady methods for a good cause prove useful from time to time. (And their base has really good tea. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit more than “the occasional sighting”...)

- Ren settles back into his meadow cabin, but after that massive release of info and a long, LONG period of processing, he now has Iskall, Stress, and Cleo as regular visitors. Every morning he wakes up and forgets for a moment that it’s real, that they’re really alive and with him again...but they are, and he is happier than he ever thought he would be again.

- Jevin and Mumbo visit the cabin occasionally. It took a while for Mumbo to get his memory back, but he now remembers all of his friendship with Iskall and Grian, and they come together for fun and shenanigans regularly with the rest of the cabin crew.

- Grian still spends his time looking for his clones, but honestly, he doesn’t mind. The adventure always did hold more meaning than the conclusion for him, and now, he has friends to help out!

- False disappears into thin air to wait out the fallout of Concorp’s information release. She snags herself a quiet job and a small apartment on the outskirts of town, fully intending to return to her mercenary work just as soon as the dust has settled...next week, maybe. Or the week after that. Or maybe, once the garden has been fully planted. She’s really enjoying having time for stuff like that now...but she’ll get back to work, really, she will! Soon.

- Joe and Cleo tearfully reunite through xB, and Joe becomes another frequent visitor to the cabin. Cleo also visits Joe’s base in the time exclusion zone, but she really prefers the cabin. Time skips are disorienting, and they make her want to sneeze.

- Keralis and Void come to an agreement. Xisuma isn’t entirely clear on what that agreement is - something to do with an allowance of cookies from Biffa’s bakery in exchange for not killing anyone - but he’s more than happy to be less sore and tired all the time.

Hermitopia is making progress. Real progress, this time - not just the breaking of humanity’s limitations, but breaking them with true heroic care, with the good of everyone in mind. There are some hurts that will never fully heal, mistakes that can be learned from but not undone, and yet...now there is a path, a way forward. It won’t be easy, but a kind and gentle future waits for them, welcome and well deserved. They will figure it out, together.

And together, they will step forward, into the new world that each of them has helped to create.

#hermitopia au #announcement #sort of #I know this is long; and not all of it is my best work; but I hope you'll find some of it worthy of canon #or at least inspiring to your own personal version of events #both hermitopia masterposts will be added to the masterpost of AUs in the normal pinned post #you'll still be able to access them #most importantly; I hope this event was fun for all of you #that's all there is to it; really. that's the point. :) #again; thank you

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Hi! Could you write hcs for poly bakusquad with a quirkless reader who has a serious independent streak but has recently been a target for villain attacks and got injured, but refuses to rely on anyone and tries to ignore their pain and take care of everyone else, please?

This is gonna be a little angsty

• First- it annoyed bakugou that you, someone /quirkless/ made it into the hero class

• On pure fucking spite and anger alone

• You didn't even particularly want to get in to UA

• It was just something you chose to prove someone wrong about

• and it fucking aggravated him- more than aggravated him

• Inspired Deku though, he hated that even more

• and he isn't surebhow- but he ended up talking to you and suddenly you're part of his friend group and he's /okay/ with that

• that irks him too.

• and a lot of things are uncovered when y'all are friendly w eachother

• and they learn pretty fucking fast about your independent streak

• and when you all started dating (crazy how they managed that) they thought it might go away- only it didn't.

• You never asked for help, regardless of what it was- you'd handle it on your own.

• You got hurt during training? Don't worry about it, I'm fine.

• Failed a test? You'd disappear for a few days to study and retake it.

• Didn't know what you were doing in a particular subject? You'd teach it to yourself.

• Aizawa had heard the words 'help' ONCE and he was limited to the help you'd allow him to give you .

• You trained your ass off everyday, you worked hard in school, you took no shit- it was obvious you felt like you had something to prove.

• Bakugou felt like he was a partial reason for that and it made him feel like shit.

• He wasn't exactly the kindest to you when classes started in first year.

• But he was concerned.

• They were all concerned.

• recently, you'd been stressed out. They could tell, even if you weren't giving them signs.

• On top of that, you'd become a big target for villains and no one knew why.

• it seemed like both you and midoryia were a magnet for assholes in masks

• And they tried talking to you about it, they do.

• Denki brings it up, he's holding your hand, Kirishima is threading his fingers through your hair and Seros behind you, holding your waist. Mina is in between your legs, resting her head on your chest and bakugou is at the end of the bed.

• And Denki asks if you need help- whether its coping with it- or dealing with it while its happening- or trying to figure out /why/ they're attacking you

• and you blow him off "it doesn't matter, i'll deal with it if it happens again."

"It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when." Bakugou glares.

"Okay, then when it happens again, I'll deal with it."

"That's fucking stupid," he growls.

Kami squeezes your hand gently. "Maybe we should have a plan-" he glares at Bakugou.

"I was fine last time. Don't do this."

"Do what? Offer fucking help?" Bakugou snaps and Mina cringes. She grips your shirt. She knows what's going to happen, she knows you're going to stomp off to think- it could be a few hours or it could be days. Sometimes, if she held something on you, you'd stay. She hoped this was the case.

"Your fucking pity." You seeth. "I don't need it. I can take care of myself."

"Baby we didn't-" kiri starts but you're already sliding off the bed.

"Babe," Sero looks at you. "please come talk about it,"

You say nothing, and let the door close behind you.

"Fuck." Mina sighs

• Its 2 days.

• 2 days before you resurface, calm and collected, like nothing happened.

• but you're busy- you're training harder. Much harder, you're pushing yourself past your limits and its obvious

• they were already impressed. Theg already knew you could take care of yourself. Why couldn't you see that?

• you push and push and push

• and they don't see as much of you

• when they do see you at the end of the night, you always look exhausted

• and you put on the same fucking front each time

• you smile and laugh and kiss them goodnight but they can see you're in pain

• they don't even get a chance to talk about it with you

• because the next thing they know

• theyre in another attack and youre in the center of it

• You're fighting and you're holding him off but you aren't going to last much longer

• You were tired from the day before- you hadn't gotten proper sleep- and he was strong

• It's all kind of a blur, really, you're thrown a lot, youre bleeding

• he had you by the neck at the end, you were clawing at his hands and he was laughing

• your mates weren't exactly in the best shape either- after all, the attack had happened in the middle of the night

• A strong kick to the center of his nose seemed to do the trick. There was a sickening crack and his hand loosened and he fell back.

• When you regained youre senses you froze- he wasn't breathing.

• you /killed/ him.

• Your stomach churned and suddenly all the pain you felt increased ten fold.

• You scrambled to stand up, Mina was the first one you saw and you fell to your knees in front of her, cupping her cheeks. "Baby? Baby you okay?"

"M fine, but you're not, that's a lot of blood." She looked up at you her eyes wide. "Baby that's a lot-"

"I'm okay, I promise."

• She wanted to yell and scream and you, she wanted to hit you and telling to just accept help but you'd already stood up, moving to look around for the others.

• Denki was next, you met him with a hug and a short but desperate kiss. "You okay?" You whisper, brushing your thumb over his bruised cheek. Mina was behind you now, gently brushing her fingers through the blondes hair, but she stepped away when she saw Kiri and Bakugou.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he smiked softly.

"Eiji? Katsu?" You mumbled.

"They're okay, they're fine. You don't look so good though."

"M- M okay.." you mutter. Youre tired now. Standing here is nice. You're dizzy- Ashido was right. That was a lot of blood.

Your eyes close and your weight falls.

"Hey- Hey- Jesus! Guys! Katsuki! I don't- I can't tell if she's breathing-"

• You wake up in the hospital 2 days later.

• Mina's in the bed with you, hand thrown gently over your thighs. Sero and Denki are on the left side, heads down, eye's closed and arms over your shin.

• Kiris got your left hand in his, another hand in Minas hip.

• Bakugous on the right side, arms crossed and head down.

• and youre confused because why the fuck are you here?

• what happened?

• you miss Katsukis voice next to you when it all comes back

• and you can't help but scramble to sit up and suddenly you can't breathe

• youre not sure how long you zoned out, but when you finally get back, there's two nurses

• ones replacing and IV bag

• and the other is checking your tempature, you think.

• theres another needle stick in your arm but you can't pay mind to it right now.

• the warmth around you was gone and you desperately wanted it back.

• they weren't in the room anymore

• and when the nurses cleared the room, the tears spilled over.

• your brought your hands to cover your face and your head fell back.

• five minutes? 10 minures? Later there was a gentle tap on your shoulder

• it was ashido

• your arms were around in her seconds

• "You okay?" She whispered as the others took their spots around the bed.

"No," you shook your head. "I killed him- and and I could've gotten you guys hurt because I didn't listen," your breathing had started to get faster again.

"Hey, it's okay. Just breathe," she soothes, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"I can't- I- fuck /help me/-" you gasp out

• It takes awhile, but they managed to calm you down.

• Ashido just holds you, she lets you cry, and Kiri reminds you that you're okay

• they do most of the comforting usually

• when you're breath has finally started to even out, and you can feel the pain again, you know you'll be asleep soon from the pain meds.

"How bad was it?" You whisper, hands still gripling Minas shirt.

"Bad." Katsuki spoke. "You stopped breathing when we got you here."

Sero rubbed his face. "You needed a blood transfusion. They weren't entirely sure how it was going to end."

"You were...you were just standing in my arms and then you weren't moving. And then you weren't answering-" denki breathed. "There was blood everywhere."

"What about you guys?"

"Can you just stop?" Katsuki groaned. "Can you just let us worry about /you/? Let us help. Don't ask about us. You almost /died/ and your only fucking thought is us. Why?" He was crying, head down, hands gripping his pants.

"He's got a point. It's okay to ask for help," kirishima whispers. "So why don't you?"

• you're quiet for a few moments.

• do you go into detail.

• or do you dodge the question.

• ultimately, the fear of losing them outweighed any shame you would have felt

• "its hard not having a quirk." You mumble, eyes down. "Quirks are practically currency. And power is highly valued. I don't have that. I don't have any of that. I'm in a constant risk of being replaced and if I ask for help, they know I'm weak. I can't ask for help."

• And they all feel their hearts shatter a little bit.

• Bakugou had poked fun at you for quite some time in first year for not having a quirk.

• and Denki wasn't much better- neither was Sero. They'd make jokes about how fast you'd drop out.

• Bakugou would break a little bit, reminding you that you weren't weak. You still being alive was proof of that.

• and slowly

• slowly you get accustomed to ask for help.

• its not necessarily with words- sometimes they ask and you just nod

• or you ask in your own way.

• youre independent streak remains- but its not as bad.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #poly bakusquad #bakusquad #poly bakusquad x reader #mina ashido #mina x reader #sero hanta #sero #sero x reader #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #denki x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Away. So, so far away.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Odin's A+ parenting (/s). Angst. Jealousy.

4

"This is ridiculous'', said Loki, pacing around the tiniest of the cells. Odin simply stared from outside. "I'm not one to step on this dungeon yet again".

"You must've thought about it sooner, Loki", beamed his father's voice. So calm and composed yet so imponent. Loki would've given everything on him to get out of that cell and rip his eye off. Monster? He might be one, but Odin… Odin was the true villain.

"You just want me here to have another excuse at Thor being the only heir to the throne. Your desperate attempts are pathetic".

"You should pay your respects to me, son. I'm the one assuring your… companion, if you may call that, is safe".

If you may call that. Odin had always accepted Thor's stupid fling with that midgardian woman and not once he considered her any less important than Thor's other asgardian acquaintances. Yet with you, he didn't know if it was because of the inherent strength you emanated —unintimidated by literal Gods, always up to a new challenge and not minding getting hurt in the process, whatever it takes—maybe that's something that attracted Loki to you in the first place; or maybe it all was because it was him. The frost giant that falls in love with a mortal and damned be him that would ever want or need to be loved, his heart of ice. Right?

He didn't deserve it and everyone knew it, except you. When will you know? When will you realize? He wondered over and over and over.

"Does they know where I am?".

"Of course not".

"Then you must grant me this one wish… this one need for them to know I'm not just off somewhere and getting off with someone else, or whatever they might be thinking now". He asked. He almost pleaded—begged. Begs are of no use. Odin smiled devilishly and said nothing. "Where is they?".

"Something similar to the healer's room they've got down there…", recalled Odin, and Loki almost raised his voice, panic washing over him.

"A hospital?".

"Yes. A bullet wound".

"A mission. I knew, I knew I couldn't let them go by themselves to that damned mission. Not now. Who's with them?".

"Loki, there is no use in you caring this deeply. The soldier is taking care of them. Something you won't be doing for the next few centuries".

"Get. Me. Out", his clenched jaw started hurting even more.

"Feel free to get yourself out, since you're so insistent on being independent".

"I'm a full grown adult God, I don't need to insist on being something I so clearly am".

"You're not a God".

And just like that, Odin left the dungeons. Loki's mind could only have one thing circling over and over, eating his brains alive. You. You. You. Hospital. Bullet. Soldier.

It wasn't wise of him to get worked up in jealousy while there were more important matters on stage, but he would never ignore Sergeant Barnes' looks over your body and —damned be him and your gorgeous eyes— the looks you'd give him back. You cared for a friend and Sergeant Barnes was very clearly looking for something more south.

And you now probably thought of him as a greedy monster—oh how he was. If he hadn't been so worked up over this idiotic idea of thinking he could ever be able to actually sit on a throne (a throne, any throne, anything at all), he wouldn't have gotten himself locked up and could've jumped in front of that bullet for you, or teleported you away, or ripped that gun's carrier to shreads before they could even touch you a hair.

"Hey, you", he called one of the guards. This one, he remembered. He feared him. Loki smirked.

"Your Highness".

Loki knew guards were idiots. But could this one be even useful?

"How much would you like to do a little favor to your prince?", and the guard swallowed.

"I'm not allowed to…".

"How long exactly have you been working for the dungeons?".

"I… uh… a couple of decades".

"Do me this one favor and I'll get you a better job once I'm out of this cell".

"I can't take you out, Your Highness", he looked apologetic. Norns, guards were so stupid. And this one was so submissive.

"I'm aware", he smiled with patience. "This is just so I can assure some visualization towards my little darling there on Midgard. Bring me something from my Mother's room".

"Sir, I…", he was about to decline, but Loki cut him sharply.

"It's Your Highness. Bring me a sphere. Do as I say".

Without further discussion, the guard left with a vow and came back very shortly later with that same magic sphere he had asked. His Mother wasn’t a witch, but she was raised by many. It was obvious she’d have one of those. He groped it around, passed his fingers all over it, trying to figure out exactly how he’d get the sphere to work. Finally, resigned, he sat on the foot of the bed and laid the sphere in there too, frustrated he couldn’t even get a spark out of it.

“I just wish you worked”, he sighed, looking at it.

The sphere glowed. He opened his eyes in surprise and realized it was through commands. He shifted his voice to resemble his mother’s.

“Give me a visualization on Loki's beloved”.

The sphere glowed even more, shone all around it and a halo of white lights that blinded him almost entirely made him frown in disgust. Soon, the sphere started making sounds.

“Oh, please! Just this one, I’m really begging. If I could stand up, I’d get on my knees and all”, it was your voice. He blinked fast and soon he could see you there, inside the center of the sphere, in a hospital gown and laying among cables and white sheets. He smiled at your sight and quickly frowned. You were trying to catch your laptop from someone’s hand.

Metallic hand.

Loki growled.

“No way. I’m supposed to make sure you don’t kill yourself over one simple mission. Come on, you can do this”, said the soldier, trying to get you to calm down. You were visibly upset.

“I can do what? What am I supposed to do other than the damn mission I came to do?”.

“I don’t know, doll. You’re not…”.

“Call me doll again and I’ll make actual dolls with your skin, Barnes”, you growled, and Loki chuckled. There was the sweetheart he missed so much. “That was rude. Sorry. I’m serious, give me the laptop, I won’t move a hair. I’m not even that badly injured”.

“Take this as a vacation, would you? Didn’t you wanna do something here? Climb that mountain?”.

“Oh, so let me get this straight. I can’t use my laptop, here, on my bed, because I’m supposed to bedrest and work isn’t resting. I can, nonetheless, climb a mountain”.

“Yeah. You coming or not?”.

“Sure”, you sighed, repressing a smirk. “But let’s bring the camera and take a picture at the top of it, so I can annoy Stark about it”.

“Deal”.

I've got a feeling called the blues, oh Lord, since my baby said goodbye. 

Lord I don't know what I'll do, all I do is sit and sigh.

"What's that?", asked Bucky as you sang under your breath. The music kept going in your earpiece, but he couldn't hear much. "Sounds familiar".

"Oh, it's Hank Williams. You surely must have heard it".

"Yes, when I was a teen. Damn, is his music still around?".

The mountain was relatively easy. Bucky knew that and that made him agree to climb it with you in the first place. But you loved it. You stopped every once in a while to look around and marvel at it.

That last long day he said goodbye,

Oh Lord, I thought I would die.

Bucky stared. Bucky stared while you stopped to drink water and when you did that thing with your hair, and Bucky stared so much you began ignoring it and singing. He didn't seem to mind.

"What do you think about this?".

"About what?".

"The whole thing. The mission. The year. Loki".

Bucky sighed everytime you mentioned him.

"Look, you made very clear it doesn't matter what I think about Loki to you".

"It does, but it doesn't mean I'll actually follow whatever you say. So, do you think something about it?".

"Of course, doll. I think something about everything. And especially about this whole thing, because Loki is clearly… you care for him and you're hurt".

"Well, yes. Oh", you said, stopping to grab a rock. "look. It's shiny". Bucky chuckled. "Sorry. You were saying".

"Well, I think it's good you're getting your head off him for a while now".

"What? I'm not".

"I thought that was the purpose of coming mission after mission. I don't think he… well, the way Thor puts it makes me think he… you know".

You stopped in place and frowned.

"You're not implying he's not coming back".

"That's sort of what Thor told me".

"What did he exactly say?".

"He said…", he sighed and looked around. "Look, I don't want to cause trouble. I think you should talk directly to him".

"He doesn't talk to me".

He'll do you, he'll do me, he's got that kind of loving,

But I love to hear him when he calls me sweet baby, what a beautiful dream.

"I think he's off with someone else. Thor said, quoting exactly, trouble is in his nature, and he's tried to make sure he could have a throne. He couldn't with them because of the whole not wanting kids matter", Bucky explained, imitating Thor's accent. You would've laughed. You would've, if it weren't for the knot in your throat. "I think he's done with you, doll".

James pulled his sincere face. He wasn't saying it because he had an interest in you, as Tony kept saying, but because he cared for you. He hated to see you under so much pain for something he couldn't quite finish understanding —why would you care so much for someone who leaves with no warning and makes no effort to communicate?

"He's not. He's not done with me. He wouldn't do that".

I hate to think it all over, I've lost my heart it seems.

I've grown so used to you somehow,

Well, I'm nobody's sugar baby now.

And I'm a lonesome, I've got the lovesick blues.

You kept walking, this time faster. Bucky grabbed your arm a couple of times to let you know you should slow down and take it easy.

He wouldn't do that, right? He wouldn't just leave. You've been through enough together to know he wasn't one to do that. Yes, you fought. Yes, he left. But he always came back. And when he came back, he was sorry and he cooed your cries and kissed you and hugged you all night, until love outweighed whatever reason got you like that.

He always came back.

Cause I'm in love, I'm in love with a wonderful guy,

That's what's the matter with me.

Cause I'm in love, I'm in love with a wonderful guy, but he don't care about me.

He cares, you thought. And with that though, you kept climbing. You went up, to the top, and stared at the immensity, at the whole place. The whole city.

You really wanted to think about something else. But that bad feeling you had… if he wasn't leaving you for someone else, then he was in trouble.

You could only hope he was actually with someone else. Not dead. Not hurt.

Please, don't be in pain.

And I tried and I tried to keep him satisfied, but he just wouldn't stay.

And now that he is leaving, this is all I've got to say.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 , @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @enderslove, @theonewiththenerds)

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki fic #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x gn reader #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #thor loki #loki deity #loki series #loki friggason #tom hiddleston #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Yeah, forget side content, just gonna steam on ahead with the Sports Festival and onwards. I might not actually stop and start trying to do overarching plot stuff until ~chapter 100 (more specifically, post ch 97, the last chapter of the Kamino Arc) because then there will be enough material to actually like. Do stuff. Might also have something smaller after the Sports Festival since that’s ~chapter 50. Shrugs.

Anyways, onwards. Don’t you miss the days when the main trio of the series was Izuku, Tenya, and Ochako? Man, don’t I. :(

[No. 22 - That’s the Idea, Ochako!]

Character sheet! I am honestly laughing super hard at everything because just. ‘Very Ochako.’ Thank you, Horikoshi. A few things about the sheet:

1) god I love that her fingerpads are called soft. Like. Actual cat paw pad fingers going on here. just imagine if you like pressed one of them like you do with cat paw pads and like, she had cat claws that would extend. cute but also menacing.

2) strong legs. leg day squad. her, izuku, and iida all doing leg day workouts together tho... katsuki wishes he had the leg strength of those three y'all

3) That quirk description… that’s not quite how centrifugal forces work, but I mean. Superhero comic physics. At least he made an attempt at explaining her quirk. 

Anyways, onto the actual chapter.

We open up in a staff meeting in a conference room at UA, with Tsukauchi presenting the results of the police investigations. He states that the one called Shigaraki has a quirk that allows him to disintegrate anything he touches. They (the police) have been through the list of men in their twenties and thirties in the quirk registry with no luck - and nothing turned up on the ‘warp gate’ user Kurogiri either. With neither registered, both using aliases, and no quirk records, they’re pretty much confirmed to be members of the underworld.

God sorry, I’m just distracted with the sheer size difference between Toshinori and Nedzu here.

What the fuck. Why did you put the largest person in the room next to the smallest?

Whatever. Snipe surmises that they know next to nothing, but they need to learn fast, or the leader of the villains, Shigaraki, will heal up and be back again. Toshinori is thoughtful as he mulls over the use of ‘leader’, which Nedzu catches quickly and inquires into. Probably still heavily banking on Toshinori’s instincts here since he was technically right about his bad feeling about the USJ just two days before.

I mean, how it has to sting Nedzu that all his state of the art systems meant to keep out intruders and alert UA to situations on campus failed at the critical moment, while Toshinori’s instincts on something being wrong had been absolutely on point and, if Nedzu had let him go, might have solved the situation that much sooner.

(I mean, there’s arguments for what could have happened if All Might did arrive early, so. Shrugs.)

And so we get into the segment I like to fondly consider a prime example of the fact that yes, Toshinori does in fact have a 6/6 intelligence score for a reason. 

He brings up how nothing about the situation feels normal. It was an especially daring attack - and not just in the meticulous planning! Shigaraki had started going on about some ridiculous ideology… and though he didn’t say anything about his own quirk, he couldn’t keep himself from bragging about the nomu’s quirk. And when things didn’t go his way? He threw a tantrum. Toshinori then admits with grit teeth and clenched fist that the business about quirks was meant to provoke him, and that it did hurt.

Nedzu says that even so, it’s foolish for villains to reveal quirks in a battle against heroes and so waste the element of surprise. 

Toshinori surmises his previous observations about Shigaraki - spouting a plausible yet deluded ideology, bragging about the toy he brought along, simple-mindedly assuming all would go his way. If they thought about how the attack was carried out, it seems clear that Shigaraki couldn’t hide his childish nature, the sense that he does what he wants, and then flat-out calls him a man-child.

Vlad King sums up Toshinori’s words as Shigaraki being a kid with too much power. Midnight adds on how Shigaraki might never have received general quirk counseling in elementary school; Vlad wonders whether that even matters. 

Tsukauchi steps back into the conversation to give the rest of the arrest results - a total of 72 villains were apprehended at the USJ. He states that all of them were just back-alley thugs, but the question is why so many of them would agree to follow this ‘man-child.’ He points out that modern society is saturated with heroes, so small-time villains like them, who always get kicked around, might have been drawn in by that sort of pure, unaffected evil. 

Toshinori having a flashback here, though his expression… I wonder if he’s having doubts already. And honestly, that flashback bit has me wonder just how common ‘uncontrollable’ quirks really are… and what COUNTS as ‘uncontrollable’ in their society. 

To avoid a longer derail, Tsukauchi finishes up by saying that thanks to the heroes, the police can focus on their investigation. They’ll expand their search and devote efforts to apprehending the perpetrators. 

Nedzu finishes out the scene by musing over the use of ‘man-child,’ stating that in one way, Shigaraki is a lot like their students. He has potential to grow, if only he had a proper mentor to follow. It’s difficult to think about these things.

And so we shift scenes back over to 1a. I doubt this sports festival talk is happening at the same time as the staff meeting, if only because Aizawa should have been at said staff meeting. Or maybe he wasn’t supposed to be there at all and the homerooms were meant to handle themselves that morning? Wait, hold on-

That clock reads 8:25. This is happening during the homeroom period, which means that the other classes are having independant homeroom. Which also means it’s no surprise that Aizawa isn’t at that meeting, because he’s busy hobbling to his class to announce the sports festival. He probably had to be caught up on the meeting stuff later. 

Anyways. The class is surprised over the announcement of the sports festival, someone calling it ‘totally ordinary’ while another (I think Mineta) questions whether Aizawa’s sure about this, since they just had that villain attack. Aizawa states that it’s necessary to demonstrate that UA’s crisis management protocols are sound - or that’s the thinking, anyways. There will be five times the police presence of previous years. Oh, and also the sports festival is the greatest opportunity the class will get. It’s not something that can be cancelled over a few villains. 

Mineta (again?) asks if he’s sure about that, muttering about how it’s ‘just a stupid sports festival.’ Izuku seems completely horrified at the idea that Mineta might have never seen UA’s sports festival, which Mineta hastens to correct - he has, that’s not what he meant. 

I’m sorry just. That face. I can’t with this kid. Jdsjlgkd.

Also, we finally get to the page that had me double-take when I got to it because, well.

So yeah, apparently the BNHA timeline didn’t have certain current events happened that would force the cancellation of the Olympics. (I mean, obviously Hori had no way of knowing the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo would be cancelled, but it’s still like a huge sign of how long this series has been running that this is here.)

Moving on, basically the above surmises for readers that the sports festival is as big an event to them as the Olympics are to us. So basically, super hype. Momo notes that all the nation’s top heroes will be watching and scouting. Kaminari adds on how the heroes will be looking to hire the hero students as sidekicks after they graduate. Jirou makes a cutting retort how a lot of those sidekicks never manage to go solo, stuck as sidekicks forever, before telling Kaminari that’ll be him. 

Shot through the heart.

(Also a total aside I just realized: current manga events likely mean there will be no sports festival for 2a. I mean, I would say the events happening there are large enough in scope that UA just doesn’t have the inclination or interest in broadcasting vital information the villains could use. And like, no scouting, no internships, no purpose for it.

And I mean, even if they did, would any of the kids even be able to focus on doing their best? God knows how stressed and nervous they all must be with how society is basically collapsing outside the school.)

Aizawa tells the class that they’ll gain valuable experience and popularity if they’re picked up by a big-name hero. However, their time is limited. They need to show the pros what they’re made of to make futures for themselves. This happens once a year, so they have three shots. If they want to be heroes, this is an event they can’t miss.

The whole class seems to be taking this seriously, but Izuku…

Well, he doesn’t seem as enthused as expected.

Anyways, I’ll cut it there and leave the rest for next time, since there’s a time break in here anyways. It’s not quite halfway, but eh.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #chapter 22 #readthrough #sports festival arc #nedzu #yagi toshinori #vlad king #snipe #midnight #aizawa shouta #midoriya izuku #yaoyorozu momo #Mineta Minoru #Kaminari Denki #jirou kyoka #incredible how things are so different a year from this point #like it's actually a bit mind-boggling to realize just how much has changed in the bnha world in just one year #guess villains did manage to cancel the sports festival after all #rip to that

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 13

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

The twins find out!

First< Previous > Next

------

Ladybug lands on the building across from the city hall, where Marion had asked to meet up after patrol. She stretches out, enjoying the exercise after being cooped up in the hospital keeping Marion company. She looks over the city, with clear skies that Gotham simply didn't have. Then again she didn't mind so much Gotham has is own style that didn't want or need to change. Chat Noir lands in front of her a minute later, Dupain bakery box in hand.

“I don’t know how other people deal with homesickness,” Chat Noir drops down opening the box.

“Don’t let Kaalki know you're using her miraculous to eat cookies,” Ladybug sits next to him, legs dangling over the edge.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I also use them cause I look great in glasses,” Marion poses despite not wearing them as Chat Noir.

“Sure you do,” She turns back, looking over the city hall, “Thats why your most popular identity wears a mask,”

“Well all my identities- hey!” Ladybug snorts, not needing to look to know Chat Noir was pouting, “You’re just saying that cause your jealous how loveable and popular I am, especially Chat Noir,”

Yeah right. There was a little girl walking on the street below them right now wearing a Ladybug dress MDC had designed. She internally scolds herself for smiling.

“It’s not about popularity, we must take our jobs seriously to protect pari-”

“Do you dare me to steal the Mayor’s sash?” Chat Noir interrupts her speech, talking through a mouthful of cookies.

Ladybug releases a long suffered sigh.

“Yeah, I do,” She takes a cookie from the box.

“Good because I already did it,” She looks over, Chat Noir grinning ear to ear holding the Mayor’s sash, “Let's watch,”

He points towards a window where they have a clear view of the Mayor’s office. He was looking in the mirror and had only just realised it was missing. When Marion stole it she didn’t care to find out. He starts rooting around his office pulling out the contents of draws and cupboards haphazardly. Chat Noir laughs when he starts checking under furniture.

“So how are your ribs feeling,” She asks, noticing he wasn’t cringing at the movement.

“Purrfect,” He purrs, playing with the sash he was now wearing.

“I walked right into that one,” She doesn't tell him off, taking the last cookie instead,

“Yes you did,” Chat Nori reaches for another cookie.

Frowning at her Ladybug sticks out her tongue. Disgusting, covered with mushed up chocolate chips. Chat Noir blanches and turns away.

“Look he left to get help,” Chat Noir grins, both looking towards the window, “Just a sec,”

Chat Noir jumps over to the large window they've been watching through. Slipping inside he places it on top of the desk covered in wayward papers. Ladybug smiles, feeling her yo-yo buzz. They had synced their hero phones up to their normal ones long ago. She had just received a text from Aunt Selina that they were on their way with lawyers. Chat Noir jumps back to her side, grinning as the door opens. Officer Roger steps through instantly spotting the sash on the desk. Marinette can practically feel the officers disbelief as the Mayor tries to explain.

“Aunt Selina texted, we got to go,” Marinette tells him as Chat Noir starts cackling.

“Just a sec,” Chat Noir snaps a picture with his Baton, “Purrfect,”

“Two in a row? Really?” She raises her eyebrow, as he takes out the horse miraculous.

“If it ain’t broke,” Marion shrugs, slipping the glasses over his mask.

“It’s broke, it’s really, really broke,”

Marion only grins transforming and opening a portal back to Gotham.

“Why do I need to be here?” Jason asks, leaning against the wall next to Marion.

“Because the press have several pictures of you driving them away without helmets,” Bruce scowls, standing by the lawyer's seat next to Marion's bed.

“I haven't crashed my bike yet, so what's the issue?” Jason shrugs, grin on his face revealing he knew the exact issue. Marion couldn't help but mirror it.

“You’ve crashed it many times,” Bruce corrects, scowl deepening.

“What! Are you ok?!” Marion snaps towards Jason, scanning him for injury.

“Yeah I’m fine,” There's an amused curl to Jason's lips, “What about you?”

“Oh I’m fine, I heal pretty quickly,” Marion doesn't lean back on bed, forgetting he was meant to be injured.

“You realise your ribs are broken right?” Jason smirks down at him.

“I’ve had worse,” Marion smirks right back, meeting his challenge.

“What! When!” Oh right, their Aunt is here, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Happens all the time in Paris,” Marion hopes he can pass it off, and avoid the wrath of his sister next to him, “The cure usually heals us pretty quick,”

“The cure?” Bruce prompts, frown lines deepening.

“Yeah Ladybugs cure, she beats the Akuma then releases a whole bunch of Ladybugs like whoosh, that come and fix everything,” From Marinette's face he can tell that he sounded crazy, and she knew what he was talking about.

“... where to start?” Jason looks confused down at him, Marion tries to avoid the same looks from everyone.

“Ladybug? Akuma?” Bruce apparently does know where to start.

“Auntie, don’t you remember last time you were in Paris?” Marinette steps in to save him, “We came home early because school was canceled because of an Akuma attack,”

“I thought you were just skipping!” She exclaims, both shocked and defensive.

“And you didn’t send us back?” Marion cracks a smile.

“Did you really think we’d skip?” Marinette frowns.

“Wouldn’t blame you for it,” Aunt Selina shrugs, Marinette looks like she's about to start a one sided argument. Marion was not about to back her up.

“Who’s Ladybug?” Bruce cuts in, whether he knew of the brewing argument or not is up for debate.

“Hero of Paris?” Marinette meets Marion's glance.

“Paris has no heroes,” Bruce says, with far too much confidence for someone completely wrong.

“Well you might want to let her and Chat Noir know that,” Marion smirks, he'd make sure to deliver the message.

“Not to mention the rest of the Guardians,” Marinette adds, perhaps a little more concerned they didn't know than he was.

“There's more than one?” Jason speaks up, Marion can’t help but feel he and Bruce are having their own secret conversation through glaring.

“Of course, Paris is attacked by super villains every other day,” Marion answers flippantly, doing nothing to dissolve the tension.

“Ok, no, I’ve been to Paris plenty and it’s never been attacked,” Their Aunt says, time for them to hold their own secret conversation.

“Um…” She was definitely privy to one attack, not that people in her position usually remember what happens, “Guess you must of just missed it,”

Smooth he can practically hear Marinette scoff. A silence traps them, likely shorter than it feels.

“Moving on,” The Lawyer, who had introduced herself as Emma, frees them,“I highly recommend there be a press statement released immediately,”

“That isn’t going to stop anyone,” Marion frowns, first hand experience teaching him well.

“No, but we can start pursuing legal action,” Emma agrees, bringing documents out of her briefcase.

“Several news sources can be sued for slander and endangerment,” She hands Marinette the documents, Marion resting his chin on her shoulder to see, “They also played a part in informing villains of your whereabouts, allowing the attack and making you vulnerable to another, I’m not saying this to scare you-”

“It’s fine, we know,” Marinette gives a friendly smile, “Please be honest, it’s more efficient to just be blunt,”

“Right... so several official news sources should be taken to court,” Emma takes on a more professional air, “There are many independent sources that can receive lawsuits, however the most prudent one would be those confirming your presence at the aquarium,”

“I don’t really think we need to go after regular people,” Marion looks over the file that includes pictures of the group he had scared off at the aquarium before the attack.

“It’s your choice, but I strongly encourage you to think over at least sending them charges,” Emma urges, Bruce nodding along, “If nothing else than to discourage others from doing the same,”

“Give us some time to think it over, please,” Marinette sifts through the documents, organising them, “We’re fine with any press release that we can look over first,”

“Very well,” Emma meets Marinette's smile, “Mr Wayne if I can discuss the press release with you?”

He nods, he and Jason leave the room with Emma. Leaving the twins with their Aunt.

“When did you become so cool?” She grins, moving up the bed.

“I’ve always been the coolest twin,” Marinette shrugs, Marion rolling his eyes.

“Nope I distinctly remember you running into the same pole three times in six minutes,” His smirk meets Marinette glare.

“How did you manage that?” Aunt Selina asks, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Clumsiness has always been a special talent of mine,” Marinette puts the papers down, not quite pulling off the overconfident air he carries, being a little too close to honesty.

“Sure has,” Marion sits back, pulling up his legs for their Aunt to move closer.

“So what do you think we should do?” Marinette questions, when she's seated just across from them.

“...I think it’s complicated,” Aunt Selina hesitates, looking towards the door, “More complicated than they realise,”

“What's wrong?” Marion follows her gaze, another hesitation thats so unlike her, “... Aunt Selina?”

“I’m not your Aunt,” They both go stiff, waiting for more in the silence that follows her not meeting their eyes.

Right now Marinette’s head is probably buzzing with ideas and theories on what that means.

Marion’s mind remains blank, waiting for an answer that she seems to be battling with.

“............ I’m your Mother,”

“Excuse me, what?” Marion’s voice is just as blank, words refusing to process.

“And Bruce is your Father,” She adds, jumpstarting them out of their shell shocked state.

“What!” They both shout, turning towards each other.

“Look, I was young when I had you, I didn’t know what to do,” Selina runs a hand through her hair, still not meeting their gazes as they snaps back towards her, “I knew I wasn’t good enough to raise you, and Bruce wasn’t exactly in the best place back then, at least not enough to raise a child, so I didn’t tell him,”

That is… that is information.

“But, there was Tom and Sabine who wanted kids so bad, I knew they would be amazing parents,” Well yes, “So I gave you up,”

Now Marion's thoughts were a storm. Whipping around his head too fast to get a hold of and actually understand.

“I’m not saying this to pressure you into anything,” Selina follows after a long silence,  “You don’t have to tell anyone, and if you like I can walk out of this room and we can never speak of this again, everything can go back to normal,”

“... do you think we can have a moment?” Marinette sounds just as blank as he had.

“Of course,” That slight fake smile clearly trying to hide the hurt allows Marion to grasp hold of one thought.

“Hey… no matter what we still love you,” The smile turns to a genuine one, Marinette agreeing.

She doesn't reply, leaving the room, door closing with a soft click.

“.... Oh my god,” Marion whispers, staring at the door.

“Oh my god,” Marinette says, Kwamis coming out of hiding, concerned looks going unnoticed.

“Oh my god!” Marion shouts, reality hitting all at once.

“OH MY GOD!” Marinette can surely be heard from outside.

“She’s our Mother!?” Marion turns to Marinette for confirmation.

“HOW is this possible!” So that's a yes.

“Why didn’t anyone tell us!” Marion feels himself getting hysterical.

“Hold on, let's think this through calmly and rationally,” Marinette takes a deep breath, hand on his shoulder.

“Screw that!” Marion pushes her hand off, standing “After something like this we’re allowed to freak out!”

“This is so weird!” Marinette groans, sliding back in bed.

“I know!” Marion starts to pace, latching onto random thoughts and memories, “And everything makes so much sense!”

“How did we not see this?!” Marinette asks the ceiling.

“It’s alright, it probably just never occurred to you to even think about it,” Tikki tries to placate.

“Did you know Tikki?!” Marinette asks, Kwami of creation.

“No I certainly didn’t,” She shakes her head, Marion turning to Plagg.

“I did think she’d make a good Black Cat,” Plagg shrugs, a little too casual compared to Marions current state, “Didn’t think it was because of this,”

“Not to worry, if you were to have any true lineage it is a privilege to be descended from a family such as the Waynes,” Kaalki declares, Marion taking a moment to dissect the sentence.

“Oh my- Bruce Wayne really is our Father!” Marion slams his hands down on the bed railing.

“Keep your voice down!” Marinette hisses, sitting up.

“That’s not important!” Marion throws his hand up, gesturing wildly to the general area, “We really are the Wayne twins!”

“The tabloids actually got it right,” Marinette muses softly, leaning back.

“That never happens!” Marion agrees, having spent plenty of time laughing at bad tabloids about themselves, “How could complete strangers be able to tell when we couldn’t!?”

“Now, now, it was a lucky guess, you had no reason to think it was true,” Tikki tries to bring order to the chaos.

“Other than the fact we’ve known her our whole lives and easily could have seen how similar she is to us,” Marinette mumbles out.

“And she’s really bad at pretending us calling her Aunt doesn't bother her,” It wasn’t until now he actually knew why.

“So I guess the first question is how do we feel about this?” Marinette tries to follow her Kwami’s lead.

“Too big a question,” Marion groans, flopping down onto the bed.

“What should we do?” Marinette asks, he turns his head to fix her with a glare.

“Way too big a question,” Marion feels Plagg curl up against his side, Kaalki also sitting near.

“What will this change?”

“Tikki! Take over!” Marion yells into the covers.

“I think you should start at the beginning,” Tikki says calmly, “How do you feel about being given up,”

“I don’t know,” Marion groans into the covers, another coming from Marinette.

“Angry, sad, betrayed?” Tikki prompts, making Marion frown.

“Not really, it’s kind of hard to,” He answers, turning away from the sheets, “It’s not like she just up and abandon us,”

“And we don’t know the full story,” Marinette adds, Kwami resting in her hands.

“Then maybe you can ask her,” Tikki suggests with a smile. “How do you feel about Bruce-”

“Nope, still processing, not touching that with a ten foot pole,” Marion refuses, causing the Kwami to giggle.

“Ok whatever you're comfortable with,” She smiles, giggles dying down.

“Tikki you have to realise I am so far outside of my comfort zone right now, that sitting in the middle of Hawk Moth's lair surrounded by every Akuma we’ve ever fought sounds more comfortable,” The sad thing is, he isn’t even exaggerating.

“Kid you do have an out,” Plagg flies into this field of vision, “You can ignore it and go back to normal, or confront it and see what happens, which do you want,”

Marion frowns, not at Plagg he’s right, for once. Neither of them speak. Every time Marion tries to think of the future, memories pull him back. Until one catches his attention. It was something he thought of often, usually when trying to avoid getting Akumatized, but sometimes just to smile. However, now it has a new meaning, he isn’t sure if it ruins the memory or improves it.

“... Hey, Nette, do you remember what happened when we found out we were adopted?” Marion breaks the silence, turning to the smartest person he knows, and that includes the person who created an AI at fourteen.

“We asked who our real Maman was?” Marinette watches as he sits up.

“Aun-she sat us down and told us off,” Marion scoots up the bed to sit next her, “Said that even if we didn’t have the same blood as Maman, no one in the world was closer to our Mother than her,”

“.... She always looks so in pain when we call her Aunt,” Marinette leans her head against his shoulder.

“.... I don’t want to ignore this,” Marion decides, enough time passing for them to relax against each other.

“... Neither,” Marinette eventually agrees.

“So what now?” Marion asks aloud, “We just change everything ?”

“I guess so,”

They share a soft smile, wouldn’t be the first time.

------------

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