I’m Your Man
He’d killed a man fifty iles back, Vash pretending not to have heard the gunshot, but long before that, he’d wanted.
Sometimes the best part about being an artist is being able to do art for your own fics
Usually I would have done the paper sketch larger on the next page but I liked what I had so I just. Cut and pasted bits of it into procreate and lined from there
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I will once again state for the record that my issues with generative AI begin when money starts changing hands or individual artists are materially affected by the output of prompt jockeys (impersonation, etc) and I don't consider use of it otherwise to be a huge deal.
Lizard Brain gets jumpy about the idea of creative output being outsourced to machines but like. until neural nets become ACTUALLY intelligent, Smart Brain knows that there's no real replacement for a human being who can make real revisions and critique and adjustments and deliberate choices instead of an algorithm that places pixels down based on the data in its training set.
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Transferrable Skills
Part 1
Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.
"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."
At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.
Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?
You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.
Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"
"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"
"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.
"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.
"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."
You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?
His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.
You may be projecting.
Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.
Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.
The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”
This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.
You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”
He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.
The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.
You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”
You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.
You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.
It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.
You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.
“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”
Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.
You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.
You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.
You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.
Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”
“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.
“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”
You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”
“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”
“Stow her somewhere safe.”
“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”
“Copy.”
When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.
You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.
And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”
Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.
And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.
“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”
“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”
“Why are you in Switzerland?”
“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”
“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.
“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”
“You are wearing a skull on your face.”
“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”
What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”
His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”
A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”
“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”
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random dragon slayer headcanons so my brain will let me get back to writing a fic
bite. monchity cromchity. its their way of hugging. or it was before erza beat it into natsu that that was a No. the others learned through others, too, except for erik. he still bites. the dragon slayers dont hug each other though they only bite. not enough to break skin but enough to leave an indent for a few minutes.
stare. stareeeeeeeeee. stares so much that people wonder if they even blink. they do. but if theyre staring its that weird membrane thing that wets their eyes without obstructing their vision too much. not many people realize it and even fewer arent freaked out.
the raised slayers view the lacrima slayers as true dragon slayers. the lacrima slayers do not view themselves as true dragon slayers. the raised slayers do so much random shit trying to convince the lacrima slayers that they are, in fact, true dragon slayers.
they can tell emotions. generally. if someones sad they stick around as a shoulder to lean on or a wall to vent to. if someones angry they either get prickly too or stay far away. its like a pet.
can also tell if someones low in calcium or potassium or something similar. like a service pet. they almost never point it out, but they do bring like milk or bananas over or even drag people out into the sun and stare at them until they accept their new position.
sunbathe. they all sunbathe. yes even rogue. its not so much the brightness (except for sting and sometimes natsu) its the heat. yes even gajeel. they wouldve dragonized if they didnt view themselves as completely and wholly human. dragons are big lizards. lizards are cold blooded or somethin. need heat to function. sunbathe.
natural aversion to other slayers like god and demon/devil. has to work with the other slayers to get past the fight or flight instinct. took wendy a bit to view sherria as human and not an actual god. took everyone a bit to warm up to gray and not think he was going to pull pranks or shank someone in their sleep. the other slayers do not have this issue with anyone, even dragon slayers. no one knows why the dragons are like this.
have a draconic language. written and spoken. the raised ones spoke “human” only with their parent dragon and only at the beginning. the lacrima ones dont know draconic until the raised ones start to ‘bring them out of their shell’ or whatever makarov tries to say about it. laxus doesnt know nor does he care, and hes the only one that cares about this sudden language bit in his brain at all. not even erik was freaked out.
half-draconic forms, even after theyre not in danger of dragonizing. typically has claws, and more sharp teeth than just fangs, and different colored eyes, and scales, and wings, and maybe a tail. wings might be scaled or feathered. porlyusica hates them.
if they eat any fresh meat like they didnt drain most of the blood before cooking it has to be well-done. for natsu and sometimes laxus it has to be nearly burnt. cause they get the impression of the last emotion felt before the animal died and its a real appetite killer to suddenly be hit with pain and sadness yknow
yknow how they dont break skin when they bite? most of the time. sometimes they just want to taste some blood. only done to each other or family or loved ones and is kinda rare but it really helps them all calm down
alcohol doesnt work on any of them. almost any drug doesnt work actually. high metabolism or somethin. needs a lethal dose like three times over to even get a small amount of like pain killers or somethin
theyre all allergic to chocolate. like eating a regular sized brownie will have them in bed for two hours. erik was already used to that because whatever is in fiorean chocolate does not sit well with isvanians. speaking of isvanians after gray got that demon/devil slaying magic he could eat fiorean chocolate and rubs it in the slayers and lyon’s faces. theyre all so damn jealous
after tartaros the average s-class quest became normal quests and shit bordering 10 year quests became average s-class quests. even though everyone on tenrou got s-class near tartaros they all still hold onto the “true” s-class people (laxus mira erza gildarts) as ones qualified to run them. laxus is pestered so much by the slayers to pretty please go on an s-class quest please they would oh so like to check out this area and oop theres a quest just for that area would you oh so kindly take it so we can even get a bit of money pretty please
whenever erik’s around they all go on an s-class quest and pay erik his cut afterwards since he’s not in a fully legal guild yet
read more for lists of hcs instead of just bullet points:
they all smell of their element. faintly to mages, not at all to non-mages, and strongly to other slayers of any kind. they can also smell the main types of magic a mage uses, like the metal of erza or the ice of gray or the wet animal of lisanna and the terror of elfman and the blood of mirajane.
natsu smelled of fire and gray smelled of ice so even without knowing who gray was he immediately started to pick a fight with him. just because he smelled cold.
wendy got along well with everyone immediately because her own scent would bend just slightly to compliment anyone she was nearby. besides, fire needs wind to stay strong, lightning typically comes with storm winds, metal can be tempered and cooled with air, poison can be spread with a breeze, light bounces in strong winds, and darkness seeps into everything with heavy air.
laxus immediately sets off peoples fight or flight, typically. just from the ozone smell. even makarov, whos dad used lightning magic, needed to get used to it. it wasnt great when trying to make friends.
before the dragons got out of their slayers, they had very clear “what would my dragon parent say/do”, because the dragon parent was saying shit
erik and laxus will always have the dragon’s voice commenting on shit, even if they dont realize its the dragon itself
sting and rogue had Blaring dragon voices but when the dragons left they only have what the lacrima gives them
natsu gajeel and wendy have nothing now and got so reckless after the dragons left makarov had to sit them down and ask just what the fuck happened and if they needed psychological or mental help
once the exceeds got to earthland and built a village/scattered one found laxus and another found erik
the one following laxus stuck around in his exile the few weeks/months before the s-class trials because he saved them from some random bandits. the exceed tried to follow laxus to tenrou but laxus told them to get to fairy tail or to go home to wherever the exceeds village was. they stuck around the village until laxus came back seven years later where the exceed then joined fairy tail and would sometimes stick around with laxus or the thunder legion or just be on their own
the one with erik joined the magic council’s shenanigans and was on ‘feed the prisoners’ duty and took a liking to him. when erik got out the exceed left with him and also tried to find cubelious to the point of leaving erik many times for long times and coming back with nothing. even after they figured out where and who cubelious was the exceed stuck around because ‘in for a penny in for a pound’
rain calms them all down. even natsu. sure, he and gajeel and sting are gonna stay under cover when rain comes, but theyre also close to passing out bc its so calm. rogue loves the darkness that comes with it and deals with the water. wendy jumps in the rain and people swear she moves with the winds. laxus lays down wherever theres space and absorbs the rain and wind and lightning.
there were jokes that laxus was more of a storm dragon slayer than a lightning dragon slayer when people realized that not only was he not wet from the rain, but it didnt even roll off and soak the ground. he genuinely absorbs it.
laxus doesnt mind the jokes but does point out every single time that he doesnt use water or wind in his attacks. juvia wondered if it was because he never really fought in the middle of a storm. theyre all too scared to test it now (even laxus, cause gosh wouldnt that absolutely fuck with his mind?)
they all have a favored sense. and a weakest sense.
natsu's most powerful is taste. he can taste a difference in the air quality before anyone can notice it. he can taste all the individual herbs and spices used in making food. he eats most things plain because of it. his feeling is fucking awful. you could stab him with a pencil and a knife and a broadsword and hed only be able to tell because of the taste of blood in the air. he can feel big texture and temperature differences and thats basically it. he can feel when hes in water and when its cold and thats it. he wants to feel lucy’s and happy’s hugs he really does but he can only taste the metal of her keys and the fish in his pouch
gajeel's is feeling. every single seam on his clothes makes him want to adopt gray's habit. he can feel when someone sighs because it disturbs the wind just enough. he has piercings and metal everywhere he can because the smooth and cold difference is comforting. his worst is smell. if he was blind deaf and gagged he would not be able to tell who was in front of him. fire? blood? a nicely cooked steak? never smelled it. he wants to smell the shampoo levy uses and the polishing substance lily uses on his sword but all he can do is feel the smoothness of both
wendy has great smell. even in the middle of a tornado she can smell all the little details and can almost pinpoint where they came from. she can smell when food or the air has been tampered with. too strong smells like erza’s perfume give her a headache. her sight SUCKS. she has three pairs of glasses she needs at all times (close, general, and far (she begged erza to teach her requip magic Just for them)) and is colorblind. what kind of colorblind? no clue! blues are yellows reds are purples greens are blacks yellows are greys purples are orange whites are green blacks are white grey is cyan cyan is pink pink is turquoise turquoise is red or SOMETHING. she wants to see all the colors of the clothes carla picks for them both and the flowers they see in bouquets but all she can do is smell where the purple(?) dye is from and which fields the flowers came from
erik’s is hearing. no shit. he hears birds miles away. he hears through sound-proof lacrimas and walls. he hears thoughts. hes traumatized just from impulsive thoughts lets not even get into intrusive. his worst easily taste. he eats poison what do you mean his taste buds are fine??? those shits were chemically burnt off nearly the moment he got that lacrima in. before they were though he could barely stomach even cubelious’ poison because it tasted so bad. except for blood. it probably has to do with the smell too but he can mostly taste blood. now he wants to taste kinana’s cooking but all he can do is finally hear her thoughts and, wow, he really wishes his best and worst sense would just switch
sting’s sight is the best. he sees in the dark maybe because hes a glowstick but even without that. one-way glass means nothing to him. fog also means nothing. sometimes particularly thin walls mean nothing like shoji where people can see the shadows? nah that shits invisible to him. its like glass to a bird. his hearing is Not It. only gets garbled nonsense. needs hearing lacrima at All times and even then does that “what? huh? oh yeah i went to the store” thing and people cant tell if its because he really did need to hear it again or if he only finished processing it. also does not hear accents. words sure are words and he can barely understand it no matter what. does not know the difference between rogue and yukino’s voices either. and he wants to. oh how he wants to know the “dark and deep” voice of rogue and the “scratchy and soft” voice of lector but no, all he gets to know is the blemishes in rogue’s skin and the small spot on lector’s forehead that doesn’t grow hair
rogue is that weird sixth sense thing that he just calls instinct. hes got eyes on the back of his head. ears in the walls. nose in everyone’s business. touch sensors on his hair. taste buds on his fingertips. except he really doesnt, because all of those are his worst senses. he needs glasses, learned how to lipread because no one spoke too loudly near him, doesnt know what people mean by scented candles, has no clue what a papercut feels like, and can barely taste the spiciest shit imaginable again except for blood. he wants normal feeling in everything, but all he gets is knowing what you said four miles away and what you were wearing and how your hair felt and what your ice cream tasted like and what cologne the guy next to you had. he thinks its the shadows. he calls it instinct.
laxus. depends? one day he can hear thunder in crocus when hes in magnolia. another he can smell rain in a dry spell two weeks before it comes. another he can feel a bug under his bed frame that doesnt touch his mattress but sure keeps him up all night. another he can see all the way into blue pegasus’s guildhall sitting on the second story of fairy tail’s. another and he can taste blood even though no one is bleeding. sometimes it tastes like his own blood. hes never bleeding. and hes not really bad at any of the senses. theyre like a normal non-mage’s when theyre not heightened to hell and back. but his gramps and the thunder legion would say his instincts arent the greatest, especially for someone so fast. he cant dodge a sneak attack no matter how many times people teach him. he cant tell when someone lies to him no matter how stuttery they are or how fast their heart beats. he couldnt tell when his appendix almost fucking exploded. if his body didnt start expelling excess lightning hed absorb so much hed get sick. if he didnt collapse, he wouldnt have been able to tell that his body was full of bane particles, and would have just kept going. rarely does laxus admit that his instincts suck, but he does confide in the thunder legion and his gramps. about how he thinks his body heightens what it doesnt need one day and how it makes what he does need the worst it can get--his smell so good he can tell when rain will come but his hearing so bad he couldnt tell when someone lied about a trap straight to his face and would have murdered him if freed didnt look for him. its why he was so standoffish before tenrou.
literally none of their first language was modern fiorean, or modern english. no ones was draconic, either.
natsu and wendy share a native language. theyre from midi. its old midian, or latin. levy and freed are learning how to speak it from them, since they know written latin. natsu and wendy still critique their grammar and spelling.
sting rogue and gajeel share one. theyre from joya. its old joy, or old german. but gajeel has a different dialect that he says is its own language and not a dialect, but modern dutch was almost fully absorbed by modern german, so who knows what old dutch was actually counted as.
erik is from isvan, and speaks isvanish/spanish. he, like gray and lyon, get very pissed if you say spanish was in desierto. its different dialects, theyd say, and its not like they chose for the dialects to have the same damn name. he only learned fiorean in the tower of heaven
laxus. doesnt actually remember. neither does makarov. could be icebergen/russian, from gramps. a dialect from a small country that was absorbed by alvarez, from his grandma. or “oriental”, from his mom, but call it “oriental” or “eastern” and he will throw lightning at you, because he knows three dialects (japanese, korean, and chinese), and its not clear what you mean when you say “oriental”.
the ones in the grand magic games confused the commentators by speaking their native languages to swear and it was only when some parents spoke up about it did a rule suddenly get put in place in the middle of the third day. they were jokingly furious, along with gray, lyon, jura, makarov, and the strauss siblings.
some magics just Dont Work on them
cana’s fortune telling doesnt work. at all. well, she learns it doesnt work on those raised by dragons, but does work on those with the lacrima. no one knows why until they learn the raised ones were sent around four hundred years in the future. then it all makes sense.
mirajane tried to see if her take-over would work on natsu when they learned he was e.n.d. could be because he chose to be fully human, but it didnt work at all. she could tell he was still a wee bit demonic, but honestly it was more likely to work on gray than on natsu.
mind control? good fucking luck. erik is only able to understand the others because hes a dragon slayer, but mind control magic? mest can attest, trying to implant false memories into natsu gajeel and wendy was a fucking pain and gave him a nose bleed.
after the slayers stopped dragonizing, the enchanting a personality onto them or whatever irene did just. never worked again.
one time, when he was young and the lacrima was implanted less than two months ago, someone tried to requip away laxus’s lacrima. everything they could requip in their mini space storage thing shot out around them. they couldnt use magic for two weeks. laxus told erik, sting, and rogue this recently, and they had that look of ‘i dont know what the fuck you expected’. he pointed out he was only seven when the lacrima was implanted. they realized common sense when it comes to kids is out the window, both for the kids themselves and the adults around them. they patted him on the back. he doesnt know what that means.
magic drain, yknow, like what aria did to incapacitate makarov during phantom’s bullshit? nope. magic drain works by taking the magic of someone and just spreading it out into the world. try that shit on natsu and the air will be on Fire. wendy? so much wind you cant breathe. gajeel? shit will start turning into metal. it doesnt work at all on laxus and erik since magic drain just doesnt work on lacrima at all. sting and rogue? what could be drained away just causes blinding light or blinding darkness, soooooo
can consume their elements like food and no its not just for magic energy
gray once dared natsu to survive off of only fire. literally everyone told natsu to Dont Fucking Do It. he only ate fire for two months and everyone was Concerned and gray finally told him to stop. he didnt for another month.
in phantom the only thing gajeel was allowed to eat was scrap metal. juvia would sneak him some regular food every once in a while because metal didnt actually give him that many nutrients. when they got into fairy tail juvia tried to sneak him some food again and mirajane saw and explained to them that theres no sneaking necessary he can just eat the food are you guys okay??? juvia thought she was in trouble for the rest of the day and gajeel got her out of it by eating a chicken leg at a random table in the guildhall. then natsu challenged him to a food fight and was concerned when everything thrown was just Eaten by gajeel
wendy forgets to eat food. especially in cait shelter because sometimes the illusion people would forget to make food at a good time and most of the time carla had to remind them that shes a growing child who needs food?? wendy was so used to just eating the air when traveling with mystogan that most of the time she was genuinely full before they even finished cooking. it kinda stayed when she got in fairy tail but now natsu gajeel and sometimes laxus just put food in front of her so often that she only eats air when on quests now
sabertooth was like phantom before sting became master and light and darkness were even Worse than metal. just before the gmg they were visibly malnourished and natsu focused more on that than how they supposedly killed their parents. like he dragged them to fairy tail’s hotel thing and when gajeel and wendy saw them they joined in the dragging to get these kids some fuckin Food
brain was also a bitch and gave cubelious raw meats Only and made erik eat her poison Only. erik would sneak in vegetables and fruits because cubelious could actually eat them (now he knows why) and cubelious would put some aside for erik cause even if he cant taste it she knows her poison is really just for magic and not actual nutrition. but like poisoned berries? fantastic for them both
laxus doesnt really eat. hes allowed to and he enjoys it when his taste isnt enhanced to hell and back. but like. most lacrimas after the tenrou shit have electricity in them. nice little snack. and he just summons lightning every once in a while and that more than makes up for the small magic it takes to summon it. besides eating proper food takes time and its messy and hes really got shit to do yknow
that combined slayer magic? like the lightning flame dragon and iron shadow dragon and white shadow dragon? yeah so
they can be anything. like natsu isnt stuck to just lightning. and theyre not even stuck to just other dragon slayers magic. like when he ate zancrow’s it was dragon god’s flame, he just didnt realize it. if wendy ate sherria’s it would be dragon god’s wind. if laxus ate orga’s hed be dragon god’s lightning.
again theyre not stuck to just their element and whatever was the first one they tried that wasnt. natsu can be a blinding flame or a burning shadow or a scorched metal or a heatwave (gray hates this one) or feverish poison. theyll all make him sick afterwards like lightning flame.
gajeel’s is shining iron and melting sword (yknow gallium? the metal that melts at body temp? basically) and scrap tornado and venomous blade and shocking steel. he gets weak after them instead of sick
wendy’s is prism and suffocating winds and scorching air and sharp wings and noxious breeze and storm (yes with water and more evidence of laxus being a storm dragon slayer but this time he will smack you upside the head if you mention it). she gets sleepy afterwards
sting’s is blazing light and cutting bright and prism (being the same as wendy’s which is Odd) and hurtful white and lightning’s blinding. he cant think clearly after
rogue’s is burning shadow and cutting darkness and night’s fog (not fog but it is a physical darkness) and blindingly nothing and encompassing and electric eclipse. he gets so hungry after
erik’s is blazing acid and venom and bane particles (laxus hates this one) and purify and comatose and seizing poison. he gets lethargic
laxus’s takes after everyone else except wendy. lightning flame, shocking steel, lightning’s blinding, electric eclipse, and seizing poison. instead of storm he just gets more powerful lightning but wendy says its because he actually is controlling the wind but he doesnt think so. everyone calls it dry lightning in front of him but they say this is another point for storm dragon slayer when hes way away from them (he still hears and still punches whoever said it when he gets to them).
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Aether, yawning: "I didn't sleep at all last night..."
Cumulus, patting his back: "Aw, buddy, bad dreams?"
Aether, shaking his head: "Dew has been reading Dracula with Rain."
Cumulus: "He kept you up by reading? But Swiss' room is between his and yours...?"
Aether: "You know that scene where Dracula crawls up the wall and Jonathan Harker says he moved sort of like a lizard or whatever...?"
Cumulus: -nodding-
Aether: "I thought something was scraping against the wall outside, but, nope."
Cumulus, imagining it: "...That's some impressive grip strength."
Aether: "I know, right? I kept watching because he was just skittering back and forth with such ease..." -he yawns again- "...I couldn't just go back to bed."
Mountain, walks into the room, yawning: "Did you see-"
Cumulus and Aether: "Dew lizard climbing? Yes."
Mountain, blinks: "...I was going to ask if anyone made coffee, but what? Dew was sleeping all night."
Aether: "That's impossible! I saw him!" -pauses- "And, wait, how would you know that?"
Mountain, turns to reveal Dew clinging to his back: "I fell asleep standing up, so he latched on."
Dew: -sleeping like a weird bat-
Cumulus: "A lot to unpack here, but, okay, then who did Aether see on the wall?"
Rain, from the ceiling: "Look what I can do!"
Aether: "...This is hurting my brain."
Mountain, grabbing the coffee pot: "And my back hurts, better to get used to it sooner rather than later." -sips coffee- "...This is old." -keeps drinking it-
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never.
ellie accidentally scares you. you leave. probably not the best idea you've had.
I hope y'all enjoy this!!!!! Lots of good stuff yknow getting dragged across the floor, threatened to be killed, yadda yadda (also ellie deals with some emotion heyyyyyy)
18+, wlw oneshot
word count: 5,992 (goddamn)
You knew she hadn’t meant to hurt you. You knew it had just been an accident, a slip of her claw against your throat that just so happened to be a little too deep, a little too bloody, a little too close.
She hadn’t meant it, really.
But fight or flight was a strong instinct. Your gut reaction was to run, and that you did. It hadn’t been merely fifteen seconds after the slice of her nail to your neck, the thin red line of your blood down your frontside, and your eyes went wide, glazed in animalistic fear, lip trembling in a quiet sob, your hands shaking, grabbing your phone and your keys and barreling out of the front door, leaving Ellie behind without even a glance backwards towards her. Of course, if it had been anyone else, she would have pounced, snarling, sinking gray teeth into their shoulder to bring them down like a lioness would a buffalo, for even daring to attempt to run from her.
But the only thing Ellie could fathom was how much she really didn’t want to see how your hand grasped at the bleeding wound she had inflicted, that fear in your eyes directed towards her, ever again.
Demons weren’t hardwired to feel remorse, or regret, or anything other than hatred, bloodlust. Any remnant of the woman she was, had been crushed into sawdust, thrown to the wind to be forgotten and forced down by time. Ellie could remember faint inklings of what guilt felt like deep in her soul, so riddled with disease and suffering it was difficult for her to recognize, but it was there - regret of a single mother that had been etched into her DNA, something not even the Necronomicon could take away or replace altogether. And that feeling, that sharp twinge of fuck what have I done I fucked it all up for good this time was an insistent voice gnawing in the back of her fucked up brain.
Needless to say, it was at moments like these where the ancient evil realized it was indeed quite sweet on you.
—
You weren’t really sure why you had run so quickly out of her apartment, weren’t familiar with the surge of explicit fear that had ravaged your body when she had, albeit accidentally, wounded you. You had never run from her before, not even upon your first meeting her, that sudden run-in after exploring the abandoned building and your curiosity had almost gotten you slaughtered. But at this moment your lizard-brain had decided to feel terror, and fight or flight had unanimously chosen flight.
Now, you just felt silly, the gash in your neck was much less a gash and more akin to a scratch that your cat would make; yes, Ellie had drawn blood but, considering her unique nature, was that really so out of the ordinary for her? The blood had stopped flowing nearly as soon as it had begun, and now you were halfway to your own apartment, white-knuckling your steering wheel and you wanted to literally die of embarrassment. Not only that, your mind refocused on poor Ellie, how awful did that make her feel? You sprinting out of her home, terrified over… what, exactly? Seriously, what the fuck?
The incident, although from the outside looking in, seemed very petty and minute, raised a relatively serious question about the nature of your relationship with Ellie - you two couldn’t have been more different, and sometimes the question of your compatibility for lack of a better term, arose. This only added to the equation - were you and Ellie truly too different from one another to even begin to try? The very thought in your head of never seeing her again made your stomach twist in nausea.
With an exasperated sigh you decided to continue to go home, now too embarrassed to face her and try to, probably badly, explain what just happened. She was an ancient demon, of course she wasn’t going to understand some dumb human’s flighty behavior, how sometimes things that didn’t bother you suddenly did bother you, how anxiety worked, all those boring human things that you just tried to keep to yourself. Being around Ellie could be difficult, to say the least - you weren’t exactly sure how much humanity the woman still had left, you weren’t sure how she would react to.. anything, really. Apparently, demons had good days and bad, just like people - sometimes Ellie was an absolute pleasure to be around, funny, playfully mean, even gentle and sweet at times. But other times, she was cruel, angry, sharp to the touch. On those days, you figured she was just hungry, or maybe something else. You knew she could get upset, could see it in how her head would jerk, her body twitched, her eyes glowed. Maybe, on those days, when Ellie was a little snappier than usual, a little more harsh, there was something human bubbling up inside of her, maybe she was trying to piece together the person she once was. Maybe existing in this world as something so old you couldn’t fathom, so divine in its own sick right, so otherworldly - maybe it hurt. Was Ellie in pain herself? Did her body ache, after so long of being used as a puppet, her arms and legs twisted and retwisted back together, stagnant scars weeping across her joints where she was first taken by the book? Was she burning? You didn’t like to keep those questions around.
Being close to, and especially sleeping with a thousands-of-years-old monster disguised as a pretty single mother was not something anyone had written a self-help manual about. It’s not like you could just hop onto the internet and google search my zombified demon girlfriend just drew blood while scratching me, should I be concerned she’s going to actually turn on me and eat me, or are my feelings totally invalid right now? and get hundreds of hits from Cosmo articles and women’s advice blogs.
You really were quite alone with this problem.
So you decided to stay home for the next two weeks, because your idea of facing a problem was more like doing the complete opposite and ignoring said problem until it disappeared. You at least attempted to live your normal routine, but you quickly found out Ellie had been your routine. You didn’t know what to feel, terrified Ellie was angry with you for leaving, terrified you broke her.. heart? The Deadite version of a heart? She hadn’t shown up or made herself known at all, no demon-related hallucinations of blood filling the bathtub or dead birds on your doorstep or even excess bugs in your home. Nothing. Regardless, you were too much of an anxious wimp to face her, to drive back to the apartment building on the corner on the far side of town, to simply take the broken elevator (broken for anyone but you) and burst through her front door and grab her shadowy face in your palms and kiss her like you’d never kissed her before, some attempt at an apology for running out on her in the first place.
You had thoroughly known Ellie was a monster when you first started becoming interested in her. You had known of her violent ways, of her summoning and chaotic nature, and in spite of that, because of that, you stayed by her side completely, a silent promise to her that you would never be pried away from her, not even if your human instincts kicked in. But here you were, alone, sinking into your unmade depression bed at near three in the morning, wallowing in self-pity for breaking your word to Ellie, for running, for not going back.
Despite feeling sorry for yourself, your feelings for the woman held fast, and soon enough you found yourself missing her terribly; you missed her fucked up jokes, that lingering scent of iron and rot and smoke that always dripped from the air, how there always seemed to be blood trickling from beneath her door, the stupid busted elevator and the stupid busted stairs and her stupid pretty face and her stupid pretty voice–
You probably broke ten different traffic laws just in your frantic drive from your apartment to hers.
You weren’t really sure what to expect when you got there - you decided to knock on her door rather than just barge in like you typically did, as you weren’t sure you’d even be welcome in her home anymore at this point - no idea of how an offended Ellie would react. Your thoughts of anxiety, nervousness that she no longer wanted anything to do with you, or that you may even be met with your blood-soaked end as soon as she realized you were here, were broken in place by the front door slowly creaking open by itself, controlled by Ellie, who was nowhere to be found in the front hallway of her apartment. There was this shrill cold in the air, blistering and dull, and it reminded you exactly of how it felt when you first met her, freezing, dark, empty.
But alongside that chill there was a familiarity, a sense of being called home as the door opened just for you, and you knew, then, she was the one beckoning you back to her, back to where you belonged. God, how you missed her.
You finally found her in the bathtub, filled with water, there was no telling how long she’d been cooped up in there; the water had long gone freezing cold, dark with the seepage that always flowed from her nostrils, her eyes, ears. It shook and splashed over the edge as she craned her body towards you, acknowledging your presence with a flash of bright eyes, clawed fingertips clutching the side of the porcelain tub and she stayed still for a moment, peering over at you standing helplessly small in the archway of the bathroom. Her scent was the strongest here, orange spice and rot, a smell you had come to want to delve yourself into at all times, save you were ever not near her for more than a few moments. You felt unbelievably tiny and minuscule at that moment; Ellie rose to her full staggering height, bones snapping into place, inhuman arching and joints popping and you could hear her spine creaking as her legs propelled her upright, water sloshing over and spilling onto the tattered old bathmat and she was petrifying, horror incarnate, death bubbling up as she stood, towering. Her worn-out button-down soaked through, clinging to her lithe body, translucent in places and you could see fragments of her ages old tattoos under the drenched fabric. Dull red hair flowed over her thin shoulders and her neck was gashed open and graying, her eyes boring into yours, some lifeless shade of diluted red-milk, filled to the brim with an emotion you weren’t quite sure how to interpret - anger, demonic rage at your leaving, but something sincere, a monster’s version of sparkling happiness that you had come back? You really couldn’t tell but the hairs on the back of your neck were alight and standing on end.
“Ellie, I,” the frightened squeak in your voice made you want to kick yourself, last thing she needed to know of was your fear at that moment. “I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to stay gone for so long–”
The sentence you attempted to utter out was viciously interrupted by Ellie suddenly falling down onto all fours, sending water flying across the room, hitting you in the face and she was crawling out of the tub, straight to you - an animal, an apex predator with its sight still as day right on your middle. Ellie’s movements were jerking, swaying, not complete movements but in pieces, her human facade barely clinging on to her. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, run from her and she grabbed onto your lower legs, nails digging painfully into your exposed skin, leaving tiny impressions of her claws as she clambered her way up to your face. Every part of your body she grabbed onto in her way up was set alight in a blaze and you felt her manipulating you back to her, you don’t need anyone else but me, stupid girl. You’re nothing without me. Nothing.
Her breath was sweet and hot panted right onto your face, her black hands wrapped around your temples, her eyes fiery and you felt your knees going weak as she lolled her tongue out, laving it across your cheeks in long swipes, leaving gray saliva dripping down your face, grunting and whimpering and her body shaking. She was licking you like you were her long-gone owner and she was some fucked up mutt, some hellhound sent to tear your soul down into the bowels of the earth. Maybe she was, and you found yourself not giving a shit, as long as she kept holding onto you the way she was.
You stumbled backwards, cautiously letting your own hands move to her hair, threading your fingers in the tangled locks there and you felt her body tense, freeze up for a split moment - and then she was violently shoving you down to the floor, your back slamming into the hardwood. You let out a shocked yelp on impact, and Ellie laughed meanly, both of her strong arms flying down on either side of your head, bracketing you in. The gold, tarnished jewelry around her neck dangled down onto your face, the cold chain scraping your cheek, your heart nearly breaking your ribcage in fear, in something else.
Heat and wet pooled in between your thighs at the sight and weight of her on top of you, and Ellie reacted as immediately as she understood - her nose was unlike anything in the entire animal kingdom, the scent of you heavy on her nostrils and her eyes turned near black, her body shaking with deep accusing laughter.
“I can smell how wet your cunt is, you filthy thing. Do you like that, sweetheart? When I push you around?”
Your throat was dry, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the floor. She was terrifyingly beautiful, necromancer of the sick feeling that bubbled in your spine when you were around her, your soul surely tainted and worn thin by her and you wanted it all more than anything you’d ever wanted before, wanted her more than you could muster.
“I’ll teach you to ever try to leave me again, you stinking slut. I’ll tear you to shreds if you ever think you can walk out like that again and I’ll leave you alive to feel it all.” She was roaring at that point, shrill shrieks vibrating your spinal cord, making your ears feel like a knife had been dug in and spun about, the entire apartment building seeming to shake in her wrath.
Tears of fright, of want, of building excitement boiled in your eyes, dripping down your face and Ellie leaned forward to lap at them, each touch of her tongue followed by a sweet kiss, direct contrast to her evil words she barked at you. You sniffled and nodded pitifully in understanding, unable to get any words to leave your trembling mouth.
Then she was literally dragging you, flipped over onto your belly like a shot deer, ankles in her inhuman grasp, across the floor. You inadvertently screamed out, her strength and the sharp tug of your very human, very fragile body across the wooden floor and over the area rugs decorating the apartment more than uncomfortable, to say the least. You could hear the demon’s growling and chittering mixed in with your noises of pain as you got dragged backwards by your feet into the living room, her nails drawing blood around your ankles and rug burn covering your frontside where your shirt had lifted. Your mind was in a hundred different places, instinctive human fear spreading through your nervous system but there was a more overpowering sense of arousal at Ellie’s blatant violence, her uncaring attitude and the forceful way she had pulled you from the bathroom to quite literally throw you onto the threadbare couch with a quiet grunt from your throat.
“You’re mine. You and that vile, spoiled cunt of yours. You are mine, and you always will be,” she snapped her teeth in exasperation. Her words were misshapen, the syllables off ever so slightly, giving away how far she truly was from any semblance of human anymore, the letters stripped to their raw sounds and you could see Ellie’s building frustration in her inability to speak fluidly. In that moment, you splayed atop of the sofa, her kneeling in front of you, hands clutching both of your knees, there was a flash of pain in her gaze, a worry that was almost not so alien - something you yourself could recognize. A silent plea that you really were here, and you weren’t going to leave again, and god it had been so long since she had felt any humanity left in her but alas, there were remnants - and she felt those remnants when she looked at you. No kandarian curse could ever take you away.
Ellie couldn’t apologize to you. But she could make it up to you in so many other, better, ways. And for you, that was okay.
Pulling herself up to meet your eye level, her face centimeters from your own, she kissed you - and it was as if the world outside went black, the switch turned off, no noise, no sight, nothing. Suddenly you remembered exactly why you kept coming back here, to this condemned place, to this literal evil, letting it take you over and over, and it was her - you wanted to touch her and trail your fingers through her hair and over her pretty shoulders, down her back and press your lips to every piece of her body and make her shudder your name but you held yourself back, for now. Let yourself be ravaged by this beast because you had an understanding of that is what Ellie needed, then - was for you to lie still and let yourself be worshiped by this repulsive god, to let her remind herself that yes, you were hers and no, you weren’t going to leave her ever again. This was your apology to her.
“I should bite you, here,” a sharp claw caressed the bob of your throat, the exact place where only a handful of days ago she had accidentally scratched, as she pulled away from your lips, tickling the frail skin there. Her face was slightly shrouded by the darkness in the living room, moonlight casting eerie shadows across her angular face. Her eyes were literally glowing, worked up, angry, aroused.
“Bite you, drain all of your blood out, hm? Let you flop in it like a dying fish. I could. So easy. Like biting through but-ter.” a soft, warbled chuckle that went straight to your soaked pussy. Her brow arched.
“I could just drink you down. ‘Til you’re nothing. Nothing but a dried up corpse. I just want a little taste, baby girl.” you sighed raggedly, her body pressing forward into yours until she was draped over you, her mouth directly next to your face. You could feel her breath against the shell of your ear as she spoke.
“Won’t you let me have a taste, sweetheart?”
The vertebrae in your neck popped with how quickly you nodded your head, exhaling hard, involuntarily leaning back into the worn couch, opening yourself up to her - and isn’t that what you always did? No matter what the woman did, no matter how much blood was spilled, how many bodies lay in her wake, you were there, willingly by her side. Internally, you were no less evil than Ellie - in fact, moreso. At least Ellie was more akin to an instinctive predator than a soft-willed human like yourself.
That internal monologue was quickly chased away by Ellie’s nose, pointed and probing, starting at the underside of your chin and following a hot trail down your frontside. The curve of your throat, dipping into the indent of your chest plate hitting your collarbones, down in-between your nipples - she paused there, moving her head side to side to leave a wet press of her lips to both areola - sniffing down, through the valley of your ribcage, the line of your belly, tonguing your navel. Nipping at your lower stomach pudge, she panted and huffed like a foxhound on a scent, chattering her teeth and her hands were following shortly behind her nose, running her palms down your arms by your sides, flowing down your hips and settling in-between your legs, claws biting at your inner thighs. You watched helplessly as her powerful body moved with her, arching backwards so she had enough room to pry herself between your knees, once again taking her place knelt before you. It was some type of magic, seeing such a being as Ellie knelt in front of you, but you knew - you absolutely were not, never, in charge here. Her eyes fluttered, long lashes battering, her expression near soft and giving as her nose ended its pursuit and landed right at the apex of your thighs - pressed right at the ridge of your clothed cunt, she took a long drag of an inhale of your scent, eyes rolling. Ellie stared up at you like a wolf, bloodshot eyes unblinking and arrow-sharp right into your own. You could do nothing but simply stare back.
In a whirlwind of movement, Ellie maneuvered her way closer to you, using a clawed finger to virtually rip your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop, the sound of the fabric pulling and tearing hitting your ears before a whoosh of cold air hit your now exposed skin. Your head went back against the arm of the couch and you gasped harshly as she took no time, no teasing, no soft caresses or build-up - her mouth dropped open and went forward, taking the entirety of your cunt in, nose pressed to your mound and her tongue opening you up to her, one long, hard sucking pull of your flesh. Trembling legs were weighted down by Ellie’s large palms, keeping you still and in place to accept all of her intrusion; she was rough, careless in her treatment of your pussy, biting and slurping as hard as you could handle, obscene noises and your startled cry of pleasure enticing her to go harder, faster. She was lulling you into another dimension, another universe where it was only her and you, her tiny human pet, for all of eternity.
Stars twinkled behind your eyelids, white hot and yellow shrapnel; the demon’s mouth was unlike anything you’d ever felt, somehow blazing hot and numbing cold at the same time. It was like your body was set ablaze under a glacier of ice, spiraling, falling into some deep dark unknown, only for her to grab you back into her embrace, holding you tightly to her chest. She would let you fall but never allow you to break, not altogether anyways, piecing you back with every dig of her nails, every swipe of her black tongue against your exposed clitoris.
You gained enough confidence to crane your head down to see how she was latched onto your core, nose flaring as you saw that she was already looking directly at your face, all half-lidded eyes and drawn in cheeks and hair tousled around her pretty face, hands gripping your outer thighs, thumbs moving in slow, dangerous circles there. You wished you could imprint that image of Ellie between your legs forever, burn it into your retinas to witness again, and again, and again. Ellie may have been ancient, disgusting, a bundle of pure chaos, but to you, she was the most perfect being you could ever conjure up in your diseased reality.
“Oh god, Ellie–fuck, please, more, more,” you begged, voice splintered. A thin smirk quirked up the corner of her mouth; she shook her mighty head back and forth, purposefully slow as to keep you as on edge as possible - she never gave you outright what you wanted, no - you had to plead with your life to get anywhere near what you truly desired. It was her sick, twisted little game, and you either played, or got nothing, and you couldn’t handle having nothing from her.
“You only get what I choose to give you, slut. Look at you, begging for more like a starved animal,” Ellie’s voice telepathically rattled in your brain, bouncing off every neuron, alighting every nerve rushing down to even your fingertips, her mouth never stopping its onslaught of your cunt. Bits and pieces of her words were unintelligible to you, spoken so sweetly in some language you didn’t know, something as old as the solar system itself; a demonic, otherworldly font, known only by those possessed, transcribed on the very pages that brought her here. The mix of this unknown jargon that seemed to come from every corner of the room at the same instant, had your ears throbbing, spliced in with her words of fucked up sweet nothings - tied together with the beat of her tongue across your clit, lips suckling at your dripping folds; you tensed, hardly able to breathe through it all, the chanting of obscenities blossoming into praise, and with one final swipe of her mouth between your thighs you were coming, hips stuttering and pushing against her face, pieces of her name between your lips. She drank it all down, swallowed you up, sucking til you were near crying, your hands desperately attempting to push her face away to no avail; she would continue as she damn well pleased, only stopping until she’d had her fill of you.
But oh, she wasn't done with you quite yet.
Pulling back from you spit-slick core, your own wetness and saliva leaving a thin line from her lower lip to your flesh, Ellie’s eyes glowed under the darkening light in her apartment, a slow sultry journey up your body once more, stopping to bite here and there, a kiss or two at your abdomen. Your head lolled back in exhaustion.
“Mine, mine, all mine. Always mine.” mumbling to herself, half spoken, half conjured in your mind. “Not finished making you mine, little thing.”
With that, you were being grabbed, hoisted upwards into a sitting position, knees pressed to the couch cushion and your arms out in front of you, hands forcefully moved to hang on to the armrest before you. You hadn’t even the time to recuperate, still your pounding heart from your previous orgasm and here she was, bending you into some other form to do god knows what to you. But you were pliant, willing, happily allowing her to mold you into whatever she wanted, because this is what she wanted, needed, of you - relinquish your control to her, and she would be your lifelong protector, partner, a twisted facsimile of a best friend.
“There you go. My good girl. So ready for me,” her voice so sweet, contrasting how absolutely terrifying she truly was; a large hand enveloped your chin, turning your head to the side so she could swathe her lips across your cheek, reaching your mouth to kiss you as if you’d disappear into thin air if she didn’t. Her mouth was still wet from your pussy, your salty taste lingering on her gray lips. The room spun in your cloudy vision as she released you, urging your body up a tad, just enough for her to slip down behind you, sliding beneath your raised hips - the upper portion of her face visible beyond the softness of your belly as you shifted your gaze downward, her crimson hair a halo around her shining eyes.
You involuntarily flopped forward, arms quivering, hands grasping at the fabric of the armrest as Ellie snaked her own arms around your upper thighs, efficiently anchoring you down, her strength frighteningly more than your own as you flexed and realized you genuinely could not move an inch from where she wanted you. Anticipation boiled your spinal cord and she yanked you down, like a cinder block in lakewater, delivering your cunt right to her open mouth.
“Ffffuck, Ellie, ohmygod,” rough pants and whines slipped from your tongue as hers was winding up inside of you, licking deeper than she had been, as gravity opened you further - alighting nerves you weren’t aware you had, your clit swooning over the tip of her nose.
“I am God. Only me. Only me. Only me.” archaic, deep chanting in-between laps at your pearl, eyes igniting with some sinister brine, you had no choice but to sit there and take all she gave you, the drawing of your folds into her freezing mouth and swirls of her pitch-dark tongue over, across, back to back on your most nerve-filled, overly-sensitive spot. You knew Ellie enjoyed pushing you to the absolute edge, testing your human limitations and picking you apart, lick by lick, until you were crying, screaming, babbling her name and bygone texts she had imprinted in your soul. Head thrown to the heavens, pleading, practicing dark prayers to whatever fucked-beyond-belief god that would listen - and it was her whose ears your shaky words fell upon.
But through it all, despite the iron grip across your thighs, she allowed you one small victory; grinding your hips across her face, fucking her tongue exactly where you needed it most. She ate you down as roughly as asphalt because she needed to stitch your taste upon her mouth, regardless of the festering demon she needed to know you were hers, in every sense - only she could make you feel this good, only she could take you like this. Had you actually left for good, it very well might have been the end for Ellie, or at least, any semblance of Ellie that remained. Hell itself may have come and swallowed her back down, just as she was swallowing your cunt.
Your eyes transfixed themselves back down upon her, sweat beading along your hairline, your hips aching with every thrust forward but it wasn’t enough. Obsidian blood vessels deepened across Ellie’s neck, shoulders, cheeks - you were hotly aware of your second orgasm inching closer in your abdomen, and so was she; she could feel every molecule of your body, alight with dopamine, and it was as if she could feel when you came as much as you could. Somehow you were both connected, a dull red string from her to you, in every sense. When Ellie fucked you she planted little shards of herself deep within, tiny jet-black crumbs of kandarian evil sprouted in the marrow of your bones, the pulses of your heart. When Ellie made you hers, she was truly remodeling the very innards of who you were - and you went down with no fight.
“You won’t ever leave me again. You are nothing without me.” the whispered voice in your head was angry, a quiet rage, a fury she kept with her at all times, waiting to be unleashed, always teetering on the edge.
Ellie’s body was trembling underneath you, taught with pent-up desire to give you everything she had, to keep you as close as physically possible, her legs drawn up, bent at the knee - your own hands swayed backwards to grasp onto her kneecaps, using her legs as a brace to thrust your lower body harder, faster against her face. Her nails scraped harder over your thighs in approval at your touch. You were a mess, panting, drooling, unable to form articulate sentences without blabbering.
“Ellie, please, that’s so fucking good I’mgonnacome–”
Upon your announcement you felt her smile lewdly, focusing her entire mouth solely on your clitoris, alternating between harsh pulls with her teeth and softer sucks against it, humming praise through her throat, the vibrations shuddering through your entire body. Your eyes were white, rolled back like marbles and you fell forward, hands flying to her hair - your body wanting to keep her where she was, that perfect spot, holding her face in place and red locks tangled in your shaking fingertips. This time, she didn’t reprimand you for moving her where you needed her; her repeating chant of mine mine mine mine never escaping the turntable in your ears.
Huffing and whimpering your way through the throes of your climax, Ellie’s mouth still molded perfectly to your cunt, slurping and open-mouthed kissing you through it, a literal supernova of light ricocheted up and down your back, sending sparks to your fingers, your toes, directly into your bloodstream - fire and ash and pure energy balled up in your throat and you could feel your legs buckling and your hips churning but weren’t aware of it in that moment. Only the sharp pang of bliss that barreled through your body, and the woman beneath you that was responsible for it. Ellie’s cruel laughter echoed through your skull, only egging on the process and you eventually rode it out, and slumped forward with a pained, overspent noise.
Exhaustion overtook your senses, your body unraveled and thoroughly used, your legs cramping and fatigued. Cold hands helped you move so that you were on your back on the couch looking up, and all you saw was her, face drenched in you and her eyes were luminous, gleaming rays of blacklight and her expression was softened a bit from earlier. There wasn’t that harsh spiral of fury at the front of her eyes; it had since been tucked away for later, and now she allowed you to finally breathe, to finally relax.
“Don’t leave again. I won’t have it,”
There was a scarce sincerity in Ellie’s face, her features blurred and gentle by the moonlight that was soaking the living room, dancing shadows and ghosts alight in the backdrop of where you both sat. She was so beautiful, delicate-looking, even; high cheekbones and sharp, attentive eyes. You sat up to rest on your elbows, mesmerized with how the panes of light illuminated her hair, the indents of the knuckles across her long hands as she wrapped them around your face, cold palms shaking with an inhuman flutter. For a split second, she was human again, pleading with her lover to stay, please don’t leave me. I have nothing, I have no one without you. Stay.
One of your own hands came up to rest against hers, clutching it tightly, the bones beneath her thin skin poking through like spider’s legs. You shook your head no, I will never leave you ever again, I promise and that promise was final, eternal. Longer than a lifetime you had sold your soul over to her, given it willingly. She could bite and tear and rip you limb from limb but in your sick mind it was her way of loving you, of adoring you, devoting her soulless heart to you and you could do nothing but accept it. Wanted nothing but her, regardless, because of, what she was.
“Never, Ellie, I promise I’ll never leave. I promise. I’m so sorry, please, forgive me–”
But she shushed you, gently, as a mother would her weeping child. Swept you up in a tight embrace, her arms cradling you around your back, palms flat against your shoulder blades. Her nose nuzzled into your neck, tickling the skin there, and you welcomed her in entirely, pressing forward against her, never close enough. Despite this sudden display of gentleness, you could still feel her claws against your back, pressing just hard enough for you to purposefully feel them. You could still hear her growling, not directly from her throat, but embedded in the very cells of your brain, a dangerous warning.
Leave again, sweetheart, and I’ll decorate this apartment with everything that is inside of you.
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you know, i'm unable to see saint as an ending, any more than it is a beginning.
gh--alright. i'm going to preface this by saying it is after 3am where i live and i am on enough melatonin to sedate a horse, which is probably why i've been possessed to write this post to begin with. all of this is up to interpretation, half of this is shit i made up in my brain, and maybe (probably) i'm finding meaning that wasn't intended to be there and maybe (probably) i'm grasping at straws (haha jusr like
but. okay. if you know me, you might know that I am a Paleontology Nerd. and you might know that I quite enjoy waxing poetic about it. bear with me here i promise this is connected
within rain world, there are multiple lines of dialogue that I would like to bring up--
Ah, in the end, everything reaches the conclusion of its journey. I'm not sure how many of us are even left in this world. A new cycle is already unfolding, one we need not be a part of. We've long outserved our purpose. (Looks to the Moon, Rivulet's campaign)
A little beast!
Come to join me in this great undoing.
The old world will soon vanish, wiped from history, to pave a path for the dawning of a new era.
How many have been consumed so far? Were we the tenth civilization, or the thousandth?
Amusingly, they thought their small struggles bore such great significance.
All was naught but to serve the void. (Two Sprouts; Twelve Brackets, Saint's campaign)
even the title of the credits theme--Reclaiming Entropy--seems to speak to my point. which is:
there is one thing the world proves, time and again, and that is that life cannot end. it is a cycle in and of itself. entropy reclaims, epochs end. volcanoes erupt, meteors fall, glaciers melt. few can change fast enough to accommodate. 83% of genera went extinct during the Great Dying.
and yet, as entropy all-but-guarantees massive destruction, so too it all-but-guarantees that destruction is not absolute. that remaining 17% grow and spread and diversify. the world ends. the world lives. the world is changed. the world is new. the world is alive.
any that cannot change with it, die.
as Moon states in the dialogue shown above, the Iterators have outserved their purpose. this is their flaw. they cannot change, and they cannot reproduce, and they cannot perpetuate themselves forever. they live for a long time, yes, but time and entropy claim all.
and that time and entropy, indeed, is named as Saint.
I... do not interpret Saint's campaign literally most of the time, unless I'm thinking about them as a Character TM. but I think that to see them as an ending, as an absolute--it goes against this world's very nature.
the Saint is not absolution. the Saint is the psychopomp for an era. the Saint is the turning of the epoch.
I would like to point out the Scavengers. they have grown and spread and changed.
The scavengers never cease to adapt, even in this weather! (Looks to the Moon, upon being brought a lantern as Saint)
they are widespread and ever-adaptable. they will live, i would hazard a guess, even when most do not.
even the lizards! they have grown fur (or feathers--i personally hc it as feathers. but it's not clear) in an adaptation to the cold. the strawberry lizards have developed unique and beautiful adaptations. the orange lizards have spread throughout the land. undergrowth grows lush and warm, even as the world is carpeted in tundra (it is not a wasteland! look! they're alive, they're changing!).
how can you look at this world and say it is dying?
how can you look at this world and say it is dead?
the saint is an ending, but so too--perhaps even moreso--the saint is a beginning.
the saint is the impact winter. the saint is entropy. the saint is change.
the saint is a mass extinction event.
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Rumor Has It
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Leona Kingscholar/GN!Reader (one-sided), Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader
Word Count: 1,090
Note: Like I said, this is probably better for Valentine's Day, but I wanted to publish it anyways. I might try to write some spooky (not really) prompts later.
Warning(s): angst
There’s a rumor going around that the Ramshackle prefect has somehow befriended the fearsome Malleus Draconia.
Leona usually doesn’t care what gossip travels through the school as long as it isn’t about him. However, this particular rumor draws his attention because it’s about you and the horned bastard.
So when he arrives at the library during your usual study session, which usually means you work and Leona take a nap, he can’t help but stare. You finally look up from your notes, meeting his piercing gaze.
“Yes?”
Chin resting on the palm of his hand, he regards you quietly. After a beat of silence, he scowls. “You’re friends with that lizard,” he states.
Your brows knit together as you try to wrack your brain on who Leona could be referring to. Understanding dawns as your features smooth. “You mean Malleus? You could say we’re friends...”
“Better be careful that monster doesn’t make you his next meal,” he scoffs.
Rolling your eyes, you wave off his comment. “Malleus isn’t like that. He’s…” you pause as you try to find the right words “he’s different, but he’s nice. He wants to make friends even if he’s a bit intimidating, but that’s not really his fault.”
“Sounds like you like him.” His eyes narrow. Leona notices the way your features soften and your lip curves upward slightly when talking about the lizard. There’s a brightness in your eyes that is hard not to notice. A sort of soft ache settles in his chest as your eyes widen as you quickly babble out a denial.
“We-we’re just friends!” Tugging at your shirt collar, you avert your gaze. “Go to sleep, I can’t study with you talking to me,” you grumble.
Before he can say anything else, a sharp ‘shhh!’ from Riddle forces him to snap his mouth closed. He buries his head in his arms, but can’t sleep as your expression floats in the front of his thoughts.
---
There’s a rumor that the Ramshackle prefect is giving out chocolates to a certain Malleus Draconia.
He hears your footsteps before you come into view. In his usual napping place in the botanical gardens, you peer down at him from above. His nose twitches when a small red box is placed on his chest.
“What’s this?” He sits up as he takes the offered box.
“I made chocolate,” you explain. “Anyways, I thought you’d like some, though I’m sure you already received plenty from admirers.”
Taking off the lid, perfectly square pieces of chocolate sit in neat rows in the box. He pops a piece in his mouth. The chocolate is smooth with a sweet yet bitter taste. “Dark chocolate…”
“Yup! I thought you might like it over milk. Plus, dark chocolate is supposed to be better for your health,” you inform him with a grin.
“Not bad, herbivore.” He covers the chocolates to save for later. “So, you like me?” He smirks as you give him a gentle swat on the top of his head.
Adjusting your book-bag, you shake your head. “Of course I like you. I wouldn’t let you nap on me otherwise.” Glancing down at your phone, you sigh. “Sorry I have to head to class. See you later?”
He gives you a halfhearted wave before settling back down for a nap. Your footfalls retreat in the distance as he finds himself unable to stop the small smile on his face.
However, his good mood doesn’t last for long as he hears some students gossiping later in the day. He feels a jab in his chest again and absently touches his chest. He’s still clutching your box of chocolates as he stalks through the campus to Ramshackle dorm.
In the distance he can make out your figure at the gates of the dorm and the taller form of the lizard. You hand a similar red box over with a laugh. The chocolate he ate before leaves a horrible feeling in his mouth.
His keen hearing picks up your words as they float down the pathway. “...make gargoyle shaped chocolates. I hope you like them, Malleus!”
Leona’s jaw aches from clenching so much. “Thank you, child of man. These are…amazing.” He can hear the awe in the overgrown monster’s voice.
When he nears, you look over. Your lips are pressed into a pleased smile, and your eyes glitter brightly. “Oh, Leona? I thought I was meeting you in the library.” The glitter fades as you meet his gaze.
He throws the other male a look before shrugging. “I decided I wanted to take a nap at Ramshackle.” He saunters right between you and the horned bastard and deftly grabs your arm. He pulls you away without stopping as you give a quick good-bye.
One glance over his shoulder, Leona can’t help but feel victorious as the great Malleus Draconia stands by the gate looking dejected. Serves him right.
---
There’s a rumor going around that the Ramshackle prefect has fallen for Malleus Draconia.
Leona hears this rumor while waiting for class to start. His ears twitch as the students around him gossip in hushed whispers. He grinds his teeth as he hears that monster’s name mentioned with you again.
Leona leaves so he can’t hear anymore. His head pounds as he decides he needs a nap before he ends up snapping at someone. His walk through the empty halls is interrupted by a familiar laugh. Your laugh.
His blood runs cold as another, deeper, laugh mixes with your own. He doesn’t want to believe the rumor, but his heart can’t stop pounding loudly. As he rounds the corner, he sees you with the lizard. You’re leaning against the stone wall of an alcove while the lizard hovers over you.
You hold the monster’s hand as you jabber about something. He doesn’t take his eyes off your face as he listens intently. You two are intimately close, and there’s no denying that there’s something going on. You’re too engrossed in your conversation to notice Leona pass by.
It’s for the better.
He’s not angry at you. No, he’s angry at himself for not acting. He should’ve done something the moment those idiotic rumors started going around. But he brushed them off, and he foolishly believed you would eventually pick him. Yet, he never really gave you a reason to choose him, and maybe you took his behavior as just a part of who he is.
Rumor has it that Leona Kingscholar is in love with the Ramshackle prefect, but he was too late.
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Again, cool response to the last question, so I'll let you pick from these options:
And there are things I have fan-fixed in my head to the point that I have to remind myself that the fix-it isn’t part of the actual canon: favourite one of these?
Or
Your/a favourite part of actual canon. Like, maybe something little but it's just so lovely and fitting to you and you're just happy that it exists?
I’ve been a little down on Trek lately, so I’m going to type as fast as I can to brain-dump, in show order, the first things that pop into my mind that I absolutely love in Trek canon:
Kirk calling Nomad his son, the doctor
Christine Chapel’s snark to Roger Korby about schtupping the androids
Mark Leonard’s performance in Balance of Terror
the Horta (a great mama)
“Edith Keeler must die.”
Captain John Christopher, United States Air Force. Serial number 4857932.
Tribbles
the lesson of The Cloud Minders that we must have empathy and listen to others when they tell us about their lived experience in an environment unlike our own
the cheap-ass animation of TAS
Q
Bynars and Minuet
Beverly Crusher’s frustration in Arsenal of Freedom (and the episode’s Good Ship Lollipop joke)
Picard shooting the other version of himself in Time Squared (to clarify: out of respect for those times when we have to stop ourselves from getting caught in loops/doing stupid stuff and we summon up the courage to break a bad cycle and move forward)
K'Ehleyr
Picard out-lawyering the Sheliak
Rachel Garrett; Yar and Castillo
Lal (but I can’t watch the end anymore, it hurts too much)
the Shakespeare and “Set a course for Betazed. Warp 9.” comedy in Ménage a Troi
Best of Both Worlds, I and II (Shelby inclusive)
every conference table discussion in all of TNG
Beverly’s jump in Remember Me (such a damn good episode)
the reveal in Future Imperfect (which one? all of them)
The Dancing Doctor tap dancing with Data
Darmok. And Jalad. At Tenagra.
Ro Laren
Troi saying, “You could have easily been right” to Ro in Disaster
Hugh, Third of Five
the fact that The Next Phase has so many plotholes and they’re forgivable because the episode is so fun and great
Scotty on the holodeck version of the TOS bridge and Picard joining him
Rascals!
Deanna’s “Ancient West” outfit
the Jefferies tube music and make out session in Lessons
Attached. Oh, my heart.
the Enterprise with three nacelles … and that absolutely perfect last shot of the series
“You exist here.”
Sisko’s casual, everyday affection for Jake
“Old Man”
Rejoined. Lenara Khan. The love. That kiss. The emotional stakes. All of it.
the three Ferengi hitting their own heads to try to fix their universal translators so the 20th century Earth military people mimic the movement to try to communicate
every second of Trials and Tribble-ations including Sisko working overtime to stop fuckmaster Dax, tossing the tribbles, Sisko meeting Kirk, “We do not discuss it with outsiders,” and so much more
Kira blaming Bashir for putting the baby inside her when … you know … behind the scenes
The Sons of Mogh helping with the harvest in Children of Time
Far Beyond the Stars — some of the best if not the best science fiction I have ever seen
the monster fakeout (and kindness) in The Sound of Her Voice, even though the end makes me cry
“Computer, erase that entire personal log.”
Solok
Sisko and Kassidy discussing their comfort levels about a simulation in which the reality was segregation
Janeway waterfalling off the sofa to be closer to Mark on the screen
“Warp particles!”
the lizard babies
the two Janeways in Deadlock
Remember (a painfully good Holocaust episode that doesn’t get enough credit and, yes, I know the path the script took and I’m glad it ended up as a B’Elanna episode)
“I don't know what I'm seeking.” “Then I believe you are ready to begin.”
“The child you spoke of, the girl. Her favorite color was red.” Also, Tuvok’s meditation lamp in the window for Kes.
hot damn, Counterpoint, yaaas
everything in Relativity
“The Yankees, in six games.”
Janeway going after Seven in The Voyager Conspiracy
“This is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay at Starfleet Command.” “It's good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. We've been waiting a long time for this moment.” “The feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, the micro-wormhole is collapsing. We have only a few moments.” “Understood. We are transmitting our ship's logs, crew reports, and navigational records to you now.” “Acknowledged. And we're sending you data on some new hyper-subspace technology. We're hoping eventually to use it to keep in regular contact, and we're including some recommended modifications for your comm system.” “We'll implement them as soon as possible.” “There's someone else here who would also like to say something.” “This is Admiral Paris.” “Hello, sir.” “How are your people holding up?” “Very well. They're an exemplary crew, your son included.” “Tell him, tell him I miss him. And I'm proud of him.” “He heard you, Admiral.” “The wormhole is collapsing.” “I want you all to know we're doing everything we can to bring you home.” “We appreciate it, sir. Keep a docking bay open for us.”
“Nice hair.” (Live Fast and Prosper)
Janeway and Jaffen in Workforce
the spot-on legal concerns of Author, Author
“Set a course. For home.”
(Nothing from Enterprise or Prodigy only because I haven’t watched enough of Enterprise or any of Prodigy)
Burnham and Georgiou forming the delta with their footsteps
the CGI on only the shields protecting Burnham from space
“Are we in session? Because I didn't know you were practicing again. Because if I have your undivided attention for fifty minutes, I can think of a whole bunch of other things we could be doing.”
“That's as depressing a trait as I've ever heard.” “I don't give a damn … I still don't give a damn.”
Cornwell beaming in, phaser aimed, taking command of Discovery
Cornwell phasering the fortune cookies
Cornwell’s voice breaking: “So my Gabriel is dead.”
Detmer’s little bounce when Emperor-as-Captain Georgiou takes command
Pike beaming aboard and instantly being all like MOJAVE to prove to the audience he’s the guy from The Cage
New Eden. Everything. Oh my God (pun intended). The visuals. Owo’s backstory. Pollard patching Pike up after he’s shot. The light at the end. Oh my God, yes. That episode. Yes.
Number freaking One beaming aboard and having her lunch briefing with Pike (Chris and Una’s decades-long friendship wasn’t canon yet, but it shows here so beautifully)
Gabrielle Burnham
“In case the shit hit the fan.”
Michael Burnham on truth serum
Book
Laira Rillak, everyone!
Q&A
season 1 Raffi Musiker
Fleet Admiral and Commander-in-Chief Kirsten Clancy
“You owe me a ship, Picard.”
“You need a feather in your hat.”
Riker greeting Picard
Hugh greeting Picard
the separate trio of Raffi, Clancy, and Deanna all telling Picard he’s shit
Rios singing in Spanish
President Annika Hansen
everybody finding each other in the Confederation Universe
Liam Shaw — a character with incredible highs and lows
Majel Barrett as the computer voice when the crew gets to the Enterprise D
“Somehow I figured you might.”
everything in Ghosts of Illyria
Spock and La’an’s mind meld
Spock and T’Pring in Spock Amok
“You cannot resign. The loss to Enterprise would be unimaginable. To me.”
“If you’re going to steal a starship, do it correctly.”
Neera Ketoul
La’an normalizing needing to eat all the time as a teenager (especially important for girls to hear)
Pike and Una visually checking in with each other so often that it’s in their cartoon versions (that whole episode, actually, including, “Riker!”)
That’s scrolling through episode titles and jotting down stuff I love off the top of my head, fam.✨
Thank you so much for this ask, anon! ❤️ I needed this positive energy in my life.
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When Fate Intervenes- tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Part 2
[Part 1]
Peter arrived first, not knowing there would be a second party to this whole ordeal.
The office was not too big and had a cozy feeling to it. There were books filling the couple of bookshelves lining two of the walls. A comfy chair and a couch sat in the center of the bookshelves.
On the other side of the office there was a desk with a couple more books, papers, and plants. Sitting at the desk was Peter's psychics teacher, Mr. Hertz.
He was a man in his fifties. The grays of his hair were showing through the browns, more so on the side of his head. There were lines on his forehead from thinking so much and some by his eyes and face from his smile.
"Sorry I'm late Mr. Hertz traffic was terrible getting back here from New York." Peter rushed his words out.
"Relax, Mr. Parker. Though your attendance is one of the reasons we're here today you're actually not the last person to the party." Mr. Hertz told him. Gesturing for him to take a seat.
Peter gave a puzzled look as he sat down in the chair in the corner. Not sure what his teacher meant until you threw yourself into the room in your hurry.
"I'm. so. sorry." You managed to get out in between breaths. "I'm. late."
"Yes, you are Ms. Y/l/n. A common link between you and Mr. Parker here." Mr. Hertz pointed out bringing out attention to the other body in the corner of the room.
You both managed weak hellos when your eyes met. Not sure why the other was in your meeting, other than common attendance issues. But if that was the case you knew of a couple other students that should be here as well.
"I'm going to make this plain and simple. I'm going to do somewhat of an experiment with the two of you in exchange for wiping your attendance problems for the semester." Mr. Hertz began
The premise seemed promising. You could definitely do with a clean slate.
Peter was thinking the same thing and he did love a good experiment just us ones that didn't involve himself as a guinea pig. After his Spider-Man bit and the fight with the Lizard he made sure to be extra cautious around new science ventures.
"What kind of experiment? Like test subjects? Guinea pigs?" Peter started rambling off words seeing if anything stuck.
"Oh no, dear boy. Nothing that drastic. Merely to see if I can get two bright students to their full potential. See you and Ms. Y/l/n are both some of my brightest students. I know because I've seen Ms. Y/l/n help students understand the reading or homework and I've seen your homework and grades Mr. Parker. " Mr Hertz went on to explain, " but somewhere the two of you are lacking in some part of the course work. I want the two of you to get together after school and figure out what it is and how to make it better. I expect to see the results of your findings by the end of the semester."
But Peter and you let out a groan, both of you not having the time to babysit someone with the workload you already have.
You took a glance at Peter before thank Mr. Hertz for this opportunity and turning to leave.
It took a moment for Peter's brain to catch up to what was going on around him. He was still trying to figure out how he could juggle this with everything else in his life. Last thing he needed was to add a civilian into his life. Not again.
He saw you walk out the door and knew he needed to talk to you about getting out of this.
"Hey wait!" Peter called out, after saying goodbye to Mr. Hertz.
You turn around in the hallway to see the guy from the meeting, Peter, standing there.
"Peter, right?" You questioned when he caught up with you.
"Yeah and you're y/n?" He asked
"Yep. Can I help you? Look, I'm tired and just want to get home." You asked a little quick and slightly biting, the weight of the day getting to you. Before mentally facepalming yourself. This guy did nothing to you and for all you knew was just stuck in the same lane boat ride as you were. But you also didn't want to make friends, you just wanted to get by and try to manage your life.
"Look, I'm sorry. Did you need something from me?" You reattempted your first question.
"Yeah. Yeah. Umm…I just wanted to see if we could get a date set to meet up for this." Peter stumbled a bit over his words.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'll have to figure something out. I already have a very tight schedule as it is and I'm not sure how I'm going to fit this into any of it." You explained to the man.
He wasn't prepared for your attitude towards the whole situation. Never expecting you to feel the same way about this thing.
"Oh. Yeah. Cool. Just let me know when is good for you. Guess I'll see you in class." Peter said as you nodded and gave him a small wave before heading out the building.
Something about you intrigued him but he shook his head. He made a promise never to get close to anyone again for their own good.
And it seemed like you were on the same page. Both of you needed this to work but without putting in the work. If only you could figure out how to manage that.
Peter took off in the other direction on his skateboard itching to get back to patrol. While you headed back home to study for the remainder of the night.
Both of you putting this meeting in the way back of your minds. Because what are the odds you'd actually need someone like Peter Parker in your life or he'd need you?
Part 3
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Hey,love your blog! I really like your headcannons, I feel like you really get them, y'know?
Anyways, what kinds of games do you think the mercs would like? As in, video games. Would they like tf2?
Scout: yes, he would play TF2, only as himself and he is THAT kind of Scout player. he mostly plays FPS games, competitive ones. it makes him feel like he's hanging out with his brothers again, especially when everyone starts throwing insults at each other. he somehow manages to be the only person in the lobby not actually made, but it's probably because he's instigating everything
Soldier: yes, he would play TF2. he plays a lot of FPS games like Scout does, but his actual guilty pleasure is playing those old Army Men CD-Rom games from the early 00s
Pyro: yes, they would play TF2, but they treat it more as a dress up game then actually get in and fight. they'd play a lot of games like Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley or things like those. and every single game has everything decorated perfectly. they often go to someone else on the team who also likes those kinds of games for advice on new things they wanna add
Demoman: yes, he would play TF2. he has fun with it, even if it's difficult for him to play having only one eye. what he really enjoys playing are things like Umbrellas Not Included or Potion Craft, simulation games like that. they're a bit easier for him and he especially enjoys ones with choices you have to make and a story that plays out over time
Heavy: yes and no, he would only play TF2 if someone asked him to play with them. he isn't too big on video games in general. he'd really only play games with someone else if they asked him to and that's where he gets the most enjoyment out of it. playing and bonding with someone over it
Engineer: yes, he would play TF2, only as himself and he only Rancho Relaxo's all over the place after he sets up. he'd play games like Satisfactory, building factories and trying to maximize his space and resources. and it's such a big bonus if the game gives you a cute little companion like the Lizard Doggo
Medic: no, he would not play TF2, he tried once and got too angry at how everyone kept treating him when playing himself. he absolutely loves rage games. yes they serve their purpose and make him angry, and yes he knows every time he starts it up that he'll be yelling in German at pixels on a screen. but he finds that to be a good way to burn off stress
Sniper: yes, he would play TF2, but only sporadically and then he won't play again for another several months. he'd enjoy things like BOTW or TOTK. more open-world adventure type games. side quests galore, no forced tasks he has to complete and can take things at his own pace. combat is fun and he can challenge mini-bosses if he wants a real fight. that isn't to say he doesn't also sneak off to play AC at least once a day, he's gotta make sure his flowers are watered
Spy: no, he would not play TF2. he instead would play things like the Sims or City Skylines because they require the least amount of mental effort and are a great way for him to just shut his brain down for the evening
yeah, that's what being in the fandom since the game's initial release does to a man. but forreal, honestly that's the best kinda compliment I could get! I try really hard to stick with a more canon take on the Mercs, and I'm happy it appeals to people
also, I've answered one (maybe two?) asks about the Mercs and playing TF2. this one I'm just answering if they WOULD. not that it matters, but to avoid any confusion lol
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another concept, mentions of the loki series !! what if loki lost his mama, like mama just dissapeard. but it turns out mama was taken by the tva and is under the custody of mobius, because mama is like a dangerous variant.
so when loki gets captured by the tva and gets to the room where he is interrogated by mobius loki sees mama and he just immediately slips. imagine if he slips to a pretty young headspace and just wants to be cuddled with mama all day. he just missed mama so much, he just wants to be with her.
🐈⬛
Reunited Again
(GIF not mine)
Pairing: little!Loki x Mommy!reader
Warnings: Age Regression, Loki is crying (poor bean🥺), fluff
⭒𖥸⭒
"So, you're part of the TVA's courageous and dedicated workforce?" asked Loki while walking beside Mobius.
"Yes."
"You were created by the Time-keepers."
"Yep."
"To protect the Sacred Timeline."
"Correct." Mobius replied and Loki laughed, stopping to walk. "Is that funny?"
"The idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd." Loki rambled down and Mobius tilted his head.
"I thought you didn't like to talk." he teased making Loki scoff at his remark. "But I bet you have a lot to talk with her."
"Her?" Loki asked and one of the TVA minute men opened the door for him and Mobius.
"After you." Mobius waved his hand.
Walking inside Loki saw someone standing with their back to him in the room before a desk.
"I hope for you that you got me the grapes because I'm already in a bad mood, Mobius." the woman said and Loki recognized that voice instantly.
Mama.
"I brought you something even better." Mobius answered and you turned around. Your eyes widened and you let go of the papers you were holding.
"Loki..." you whispered, placing one hand over your mouth and one over your stomach. You approached him slowly and when you stood before him you reached your hand up to his face, caressing his cheek.
"I will leave you two alone." Mobius excused himself and shut the door behind him.
Loki was frozen in place, not believing that the person who spend hours cuddling with him, calmed him down after nightmares, had accepted him for who he was, and he thought had left him, was standing right in front of him now.
"Please, say something." you sniffled, caressing his face now in both hands.
Loki completely forgot about the current situation and hugged you, starting to cry softly with his face buried in your neck.
"My sweet boy." you whispered and kissed his head, pulling out of the hug and wiping away his remained tears. "Mama missed you."
You lead him over to a small orange couch that you literally begged Mobius to get you and sat down, with him holding your hands tightly in his own.
"Why did you leave me?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"Oh baby, I didn't want to leave, the TVA took me."
"W-What?"
"I created a Nexus event as you did and they had to fix it. I wanted to go back to you and stole a tempad but they caught me and wanted to prune me which Mobius saved me from. That's how I ended up as his 'assistant'." you explained and Loki was listening to every word you say, he missed your voice so damn much. "I'm classified as a dangerous variant now and have to wear this all the time." you pointed at your neck and he only noticed now that you wore the same collar as him.
Loki touched his own and started to feel constricted in it. This whole situation is just too overwhelming for his brain to comprehend and him feeling little isn't making it any better.
You caught up on his distress and moved so he could lay on top of you, carding your hand through his hair and rubbing with your other soothingly over his back.
"Shh, I'm with you now and I will never leave your side again." you said and Loki looked up at you with teary eyes.
"Promise Mama."
"I promise, my prince." you kissed his forehead and smiled when he wrapped his arms tighter around your body like his life dependent on it, slowly falling asleep.
You cuddled him for several hours, just enjoying having him in your arms again until Mobius came back with different clothes for Loki.
You sighed in relief when Loki didn't wake up and smiled at Mobius.
"Wow, I think I've never seen you smile since you're here." he whispered and you looked down at your little boy.
He looks so peaceful.
"I never had a reason to." you replied, letting your head fall back on the armrest of the couch, turning back to look at Mobius who leaned against the desk. "Thank you...for bringing him back to me."
"It took me a long time to plan this." he confessed and you chuckled, making Loki stir slightly. "I will help you both to escape from here."
⭒𖥸⭒
Taglist
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So somehow I ended up with a post from one of the rationalist types I'd eventually blocked and man... it's interesting to look back at what they have to say after having curated it away for a while.
Because at the time I was arguing with them, I felt like it was really important to figure out the flaw in their logic and prove it, and now I just feel like... it's such a profoundly different way of thinking from my own that... it's not that I'm saying "stay in your echo chamber, it's not worth it to consider other ways of seeing things," but it is that... "that's an interesting way of seeing things in the abstract, but it's too foreign to me for me to use it to make any policy recommendations. I wouldn't know where to even begin."
The issue at hand was guns, and the person was basically saying that in order to have an opinion on gun control you'd need to demonstrate basic understanding of the mechanics of how guns work, including specifics about the AR-15 if that's the gun you deem most in need of regulating.
Basically, the argument was "I wouldn't be a good person to opine on infrastructure policy if I'd never studied how bridges work. The people deciding policy about guns should be the people with the intense special interest in them."
The OP attributed why this isn't the case, why so many people who are vocal about wanting gun control are clueless on how guns work, to a strange moralization of disgust. They shouldn't be grossed out by the gun. They should study and examine and think about the gun, in a dispassionate way.
And this is where they lost me.
At the time I was arguing with it, "does empathy matter for morality" was the animating discussion I was having with these people. And they were saying that no, it doesn't, it's all emotiony and reckless and all that weird lizard brain junk makes people fearful and reactive, not good.
Where the thing they're glossing as "weird disgust at a machine" Is, very often, "horrible memories of someone using that machine to induce the worst trauma of my entire life."
Yes, they care about the machine. But they don't care about it in a nerdy kind of, "is this the best machine for the goal of killing my best buddy in homeroom?" kind of way. They care about it in "when the person pointed that at my best buddy in homeroom THEY DIED" kind of way.
It's not... right... to just gloss over that as disgust, I don't think. It misses that what people are reacting to aren't just DISGUSTING acts (though they are that), but profoundly and fundamentally IMMORAL ones.
Is an AR-15 immoral? Not any more than a cross is that someone has set on fire.
But if someone has set a cross on fire, it's LIKELY that they mean for their action to be interpreted in a particular way that IS immoral.
Which is what people think you're doing when you wear your rifle someplace random. "I know that this has been and will continue to be used to slaughter the innocent. I'm wearing it precisely because that makes me look badass."
Is that what those protesters actually mean? Not necessarily (though I think the Three Percenter types probably do, sorry not sorry.) But it's reasonable for people to see it that way.
Which I think is the whole reason I was defending empathy as a part of morality anyway. Whatever the specifics, moral emotion isn't something that's just tacked on to morality I don't think. We're social, so actions carry meaning.
When we do actions that we know frighten or horrify others to make a point, we're not ALWAYS assuming they'll be neutral observers or that they'll have an exposure therapy that wasn't so bad experience seeing us.
Sometimes, we're FUNDAMENTALLY BANKING on the idea that they won't.
And that's a bit mean, hence me (perhaps overly) recommending empathy as a point against doing that.
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Super angsty prompt (tw: suicide plan)
So, the whole reason Spider didn't get sent to Earth was because he was too young right? What if, as he got older, the idea of sending him to Earth once he was eighteen floated around?
Jake finding out that Spider had a plan if that were to ever happen
Omg you have such a big brain this is a great idea!!
“What the hell is this, hm?” Jake stared into Spider’s eyes as he averted them, too ashamed to make eye contact with the Olo’teykan.
The question was rhetorical of course. Jake knew exactly what he was looking at when he accidentally peeked into spider’s personal log, a diary of sorts, expecting the entry on screen to be something akin to «today was a nice day, saw a lizard» or something like that, but instead stumbling upon a 100% serious suicide plan.
The silence between him and Spider sure was awkward when he re-entered the room that was supposed to be empty, but instead had a slouching Na’vi looking at him with a glare that contained a thousand emotions. Why the heck was he there anyway? This computer room practically belonged to the kid since no one used the damn thing.
“Where are they? Where are the pills?”
“Why do you care?” The teen met blue man’s eyes, hurt seeping into his words. Something was obviously very wrong.
“Don’t test me kid, what has gotten into you?” Upon hearing concern in Jake’s voice, an emotion rarely directed towards him, Spider began cracking.
“They…they want to send me to earth.”
Silence.
“….What? who? Who wants to send you to earth?” Jake took hold of boy’s shoulders, bringing him closer, prepared to hear names.
Too bad Spider didn’t have them.
“I don’t know I just…heard Max arguing with someone and they said they’ve been "talking to the others" and I’d be better off going "back", since I can’t breathe in this atmosphere and….don’t have an education.” Spider’s shoulders dropped as his frown deepened. “They said I’m a freeloader…and that I might end up like my "old man".”
Jake’s face was now one of shock as he mentally went through all the staff he knew in this facility. Who the fuck would say such things about a child? In their vicinity nonetheless?
Spider once again, refused to look at the Na’vi in front of him, instead pointing his gaze to the floor as tears began filling his eyes.
“And I…I-I don’t want to leave, Jake.” His voice was shaky. “To a dying planet, with no soil, no forests, no oceans and no Eywa…I just…I can’t” a tear fell down his cheek, but a big hand wiped it, cupping the side of his face.
Jake brought himself even closer, to the point where their foreheads almost touched, like he was about to let Spider in on a big secret.
“Now, listen kid. No one will send you away, you hear me? They don’t have the right.” He began speaking, his other hand reaching up to cup Spider’s other cheek. “You might not be blue, but you are Pandorian, this is your home, and living among us is your birthright.” Spider nodded as Jake wiped away another tear. “These dumb labcoats can spill their venom all they want, but you will always be Ometakayan. And we don’t send our own to their death. Get it?”
“Yes sir..” the kid was smiling now, still teary-eyed, but now from relief rather than desperation.
“Plus…who else will Kiri and Lo’ak drag into trouble if you’re gone huh?” The man smiled back, and his attempt at comedy got a small chuckle out of the boy.
“I’ll talk to Max and settle this myself and you — delete that log and take your ass outside. Tuk has been looking for you all day.”
“Yes sir!”
Getting his optimism back, Spider went up to the computer and pressed a couple buttons, before running out of the room. Jake exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. That kid may be somewhat of a stray cat around here, but at the end of the day he was part of the tribe, and he cared about him damn it.
Now, about that mysterious group of scientists…
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How to properly enrich your dinosaurs genetically engineered monsters so they don’t breach containment
Velociraptors
I feel like they were on the right track in Jurassic World letting the raptors chase the pig and training them tricks to keep their brain stimulated, but they didn’t take it far enough. Give them puzzles to work out for treats. Large scale versions of the ones they use for cats and then eventually move on to toddler puzzles once they’ve clearly mastered the cat ones. You will have to move on from the toddler puzzles so I recommend hiring a professional puzzle maker. Do not make an escape room puzzle. You do not want your raptors thinking about escaping places. We want them to have enrichment so they don’t want to escape, but if you give them a pretend escape room they’re going to see their enclosure as a new level.
Tyrannosaurus Rex
Honestly I don’t know if we have enough of their behavior patterns to accurately predict what their enrichment needs are. We do have Dr. Grant stating that they want to hunt instead of being fed, but if we’re counting Camp Cretaceous in our lore here (which I am), they will also eat food that’s been left for them, which is actually accurate to real t rexes as they would hunt prey and scavenge. But in lieu of any other potential avenues for enrichment I’d say better to let Rexy hunt. You might just have to focus on keeping your fence going with backups upon backups and systems that can’t be shut down by a single person. Spared no expense my ass
Spinosaurus
We also don’t see enough of the Spinosaurus to predict her enrichment needs, but I think a solidly land based enclosure was a mistake. Her enclosure should look a bit closer to that of a turtle’s but on a much larger scale obviously. I’d say also to build her enclosure away from other predators as she seems to seek out fights for fights sake, though this behavior could be attributed to boredom and potentially could be avoided with proper enrichment, but aside from allowing her to hunt we don’t have any indication from canon as to what she would need to properly stimulate her. I think perhaps you could try the puzzles from the velociraptors on a scale appropriate for her as she does peel open an airplane for “treats”. Most importantly though don’t do fucked up experiments on her to give her a personal vendetta against humans.
Dilophosaurus
Okay, I know we see even less of them than we do rexy or the Spinosaurus, but I think we get a little more here. Frilled lizards exist and I think we can carry over their enrichment over to the dilophosarus which means giving them places to hide and things to explore. Also I think they’d go crazy over a lazer pointer so maybe get one that’s on an automatic system that they can turn on themselves. Again, letting them hunt is incredibly important.
Pterodactyls
The birdcage is a good idea, but poorly executed in canon. Yeah I get they want the guests to see as much as possible, but glass? Cmon. The birdcage in JP3 is much better, though obviously keeping up maintenance is absolutely crucial. I would say though to make some tunnel things that are actually meant for them and little structures they can hop on like when they were chasing Eric. Also probably get birds to use as prey for them so they can get some real exercise in.
Mosasaurus
Listen. I’m gonna be honest here and say I have no fucking idea how to properly enrich sea creatures. The only thing I can say is that the lagoon isn’t big enough. For an orca maybe, but for that giant?? Absolutely not. In fact, making an enclosure properly sized for the mosasaur would likely involve less building an enclosure and more fencing off a significant portion of the ocean. And on top of that, the potential consequences of the mosasaurus getting loose are far worse than any other animal in Jurassic Park/World. Yes the land based carnivores can kill millions, but if the mosasaurus reached the open ocean the impact it would have a devastating impact on the environment as it would be the absolute apex predator with nothing on earth capable of stopping it but it’s eventual death.
Herbivores
I’m not going to go into herbivores enrichment as they’re not a huge problem in canon, buuut I think letting guests just walk freely among them was not the move. Just because they’re not interested in eating people doesn’t mean they’re not interested in killing people. The gyrosperes were a step up from the jeeps, but I’d say still pushing it. The zip line in Camp Cretaceous actually seems like the best idea canon has for guests viewing the herbivores, but I would recommend at least daily if not twice daily maintenance checks. Also don’t put fuckin poisonous plants where they can be found by the herbivores. I know they “don’t eat them” but it’s too risky in case they do eat them. At best you’re looking at the world’s most expensive vet bill, but at the most realistic you’re burying them because there just aren’t any vets trained to treat dinosaurs and know their biology well enough to help them get better.
Indominus Rex
I’d love to start this out by saying not to genetically engineer monsters, but as Doctor Wu points out “nothing in Jurassic World is natural” so instead I’d say pay better fucking attention to what genetics you’re splicing together and listen when your mad scientist tells you you’re going too far. Genuinely, the indominus Rex as is could not be properly enriched. You cannot make the genetic combination you made and successfully stimulate the resulting animal you have to change the dna used.
Sure you could try socializing her with other dinosaurs, but given she ate her twin I don’t think that’s going to go well. Yes, you could also try having her imprint on a human, but that would require a human being to be much closer to her than is safe. The raptors give Owen shit and try to eat him when he saves the boy from them, imagine that but on a massive scale. It’s not pretty. Given her raptor dna I think this is another situation in which the puzzles would be a good idea, but it wouldn’t be enough to make up for poor socialization.
Indoraptor
Don’t fucking make a dinosaur specifically for killing other human beings what the fuck is wrong with you??
But let’s say you did make Indy with the same genetic code. Given the fact our boy Indy is on a much smaller scale, I think socialization could actually work here. The same tactics applied to the raptors would likely work here as well. Let him actually be raised by his mother and don’t abuse him???
Scorpius Rex
No. Unlike the indominus who most likely can’t be enriched or socialized properly, there is no proper way to enrich or socialize this animal. It’s safer and more humane to leave them on the drawing board.
Closing Notes
All of the information here would not actually be accessible until after the parks have been made and subsequently destroyed, but I feel hiring an animal behavioral expert and a proper expert on animal enrichment would lead to much better solutions than canon seemed to have in place. Also I will note that without Scorpius Rex, the indominus Rex and the Indoraptor wouldn’t exist in the first place nor would we have any way to tell in advance that the Scorpius would turn out so unstable so its existence is a bit of an inevitability, and therefore the indominus Rex is also an inevitability as again, they wouldn’t know ahead of time how impossible it would be to socialize and enrich the animal. The events of Jurassic World and Camp Cretaceous occur as in canon. However with the Indoraptor we could take the information we gained from working with the raptors and seeing the indominus in action to properly socialize and enrich it. The events of Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom could potentially be avoided.
Additionally the care for actual dinosaurs would probably be different than these as again Ingen’s genetic engineering made vastly different creatures and I only took proper dinosaur behavior into account where it matched with the behavior of the Jurassic dinosaurs.
I’m literally just some guy with a hyperfixation making some guesses. There’s almost definitely more possibilities for these animals’ mental health that a real professional could list, but these are just my thoughts based on what we see in canon.
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PJO episode five! (Fashionable late, but we rally)
Opening with the polluted waters of the Mississippi River In the intro card. Thank you to the commenter who corrected me last week.
Add a checkmark for Percy and Co domestic terrorism checklist.
Percy, thinking his friends are mad at him only to be dumb found by a hug.
No hug for Grover Underwood. Cry every time.
Percy is thinking. the neurons are firing.
Percy is unable to think.
Grover Underwood being a response 24 year old
ARIES THE TWITTER TROLL
✨️Aries also fuel shipping wars, keep it civil tumbler✨️
A family born of Khaos
Properly menacing performance, casting a pro wrester was so the way to go.
Annabeth has never seen a movie. Ok, Feredrick Chase.
Grover and Aries is a conversion I didn't know I needed to hear but I'm very happy I did.
Grover's convert Narsasism disguised as altruism like some sort of- TALE AS OLD AS TIMEEE! and Aries falls for it.
The obervers of perabeth: love it , neutral, or hate it. all rejoice, for the budget allowed for Alexander Nestor Haddaway's hit debut single, "what is love"
Percy remembers his mom's stories. Percy says something dumb. Annabeth is checking his ass.
Let the horror comence: thinking about the complex implications of the pjo family tree and the insidious effects on the characters' psychology.
Grover masterfully playing to Aries ego, true heart of the trio.
HE HANDED HER THE PEN HOLY SHIT
Percy sacrifices himself in Hera's throne reafferms Walker as a ✨️golden✨️ casting choice for Percy
"He isn't like that," Can't lie, that made me feel something.
5'7" Percy jackson unabashedly standing up to 6'5" god of war, Aries does something to my lizard brain. (Yes, I had to Google that fact for the bit)
Truck to Vegas, baby! Wooooooo
Oh, do you know Grover? Im sure you do.
Lin Manuel Miranda next week, The Lotus Hotel, and many more hijinks. Pacing of this episode felt more on beat this week.
✨️excitement✨️
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