#or the ones dying of their wounds or infection or starvation

[shehzadi]

so israel simultaneously bombed: an ambulance convoy going to the rafah egypt-palestine border that was transporting the most severely injured, the main entrance to al-shifa hospital, the vicinity of al-quds hospital and the indonesian hospital. in doing so, they’ve martyred at least dozens of people, with the numbers still climbing, only to then bomb the osama bin zaid UNRWA school barely an hour later, and the scenes coming out of there are literally those of children blown to pieces. they are unrecognisable as humans. may Allah accept them all as martyrs. and if that wasn’t enough, al-shifa, which is now completely overwhelmed with martyrs’ bodies and even more injured people than before since it’s sheltering and treating those from 1. the ambulance bombing and 2. the entrance bombing, is now totally blacked out. no more light or electricity.

while all this was happening in ghazzah, israeli settlers, aided by the israeli military, were/have been continuously forcing palestinians from their land in the west bank by burning their land and shooting palestinians.

this is only what has happened today (03.11.23) in a period of about 2-3 hours. remember, this has been the last 75 years for palestinians.

#i had to write down everything in my head everytime i picked up my phone today there was a new massacre #had to put it somewhere so here you go. the massacres of today. and this is not even counting the palestinians being indiscriminately killed #on the streets just because the idf or the settlers feel like it #or the ones dying of their wounds or infection or starvation #m #palestine #!

[puzzleddonkey]

Rabbid Lore Headcanon: Hopefully Close As Possible To Canon With Some Insane Reaches

Rabbid Biology?

Mortality:

Aside from their eerily humanoid body, stubby legs, mitten hands, buck teeth, and bulging eyes, one of their most startling traits is being borderline immortal (or as it was described in the Rabbids Invasion movie, practically indestructible). Able to endure horrific abuse and remain not only alive but generally healthy and able-bodied. In a majority of rabbid media, they take the brunt of fires, explosions, chemical burns, crushings, crashings, falls, beat downs, skeletal deformation, and plain mutilation, and though coming out misshapen, bruised, furless, or even missing a limb or two, they still manage to not only recover but find humor in it.

It also appears that they're able to regenerate limbs as well, similar to axolotls, though it's doubtful that they can breathe underwater like them as well. However in some cases, rabbids are seen with visible scars, clear unhealed damage that should have healed the minute it was inflicted, but instead has aged. Such outliers, while perhaps a flaw in their DNA, can also be because said damage had afflicted the rabbid psychologically, and thus, the body couldn't heal it properly (as far as observed, a mentally damaged or genetically flawed rabbid cut in half does not, in fact, stay in half, but the scar of where they had been sliced will remain).

Rabbid deaths are yet to be shown, though perhaps the rabbid zombies in the Rayman Raving Rabbids prototype can account for them, but even then, the cause of their deaths or any potential rabbid death remains unknown, their lifespans being just as endless as the rest of Glade creatures, never dying of old age. Though their deaths are not a commonality, the concept of death is not at all foreign to them. They know what death is and are observed to grieve and create funerals for their lost companions. Sure the companions in question are usually objects, but that doesn't mean they are incapable of showing respect for those who are no longer living, and to some extent, makes them spiritual creatures.

Returning to their mortality, slow deaths such as drowning, starvation, or asphyxiation only put them into comas until other rabbids (or humans) find them to resuscitate them, which surprisingly requires very little effort to do. With how quickly they're able to regenerate or at the very least heal open wounds, falling ill from infection doesn't seem very common, though not an impossibility for the fact that some rabbids can catch colds, fevers, or even develop allergies. But even if these ailments get to a point where they become lethal to the host, it's likely that they only fall into a coma as a way to recover over time.

To allow such quick regeneration, the speed and sheer power of the rabbid's nervous system is so intense that they not only can handle extreme volts of electricity but seem to emit such intense electricity on their own. Practically a living battery that when given a slight shock can cause an explosion of hyperactivity. However the intensity of how much electricity they emit seems to vary from rabbid to rabbid, some emitting enough to disrupt radio signals, some managing to learn how to use this trait to their advantage as a way to power machinery or to shoot bolts of lightning like Zeus, but most of the time it's just a quirk that gives them a bit of a rush when electrocuted. A hardy organism, but would their mutilated limbs have the same hardness as the host? Very likely.

Organic Resources:

A resource that does not age or disintegrate can become a valuable one. A cut-off limb has no reason to regenerate, the limbs collected and often hollowed out to create very durable leather, their indestructible yet flexible bones are utilized for structural support of buildings or tools. The fact that rabbids can bruise and form rashes implies the blood flow within their muscles is similar to that of the common mammal, their only defense being an impenetrable hide, without it their flesh is vulnerable to the elements, as well as cuts and tears, allowing them to be prepared and served as a rare delicacy (though the consumption of rabbid matter should be highly discouraged considering the kind of diet rabbids tend to have, not to mention how chewy the meat is, it'll almost be like chewing a massive chunk of meaty gum). Rabbid hide, bones and flesh being an extremely rare and valuable resource that cannot be farmed for the simple fact that almost nothing can break through the hide of a rabbid, adding to their value. If their bodies are near indestructible, did rabbids dispose of such limbs before Earth? They likely ate them. 

Digestive System:

Their stomach acid appears to be extraordinarily corrosive, their odd and powerful intestines able to pass down and gain energy from the rusty metals they consume alongside normal food. Due to this, it has created a habit of shoving anything they find into their maws, either swallowing them whole, sucking them, or taking the time to chew them, though their teeth appear to not be built for breaking down anything other than meats and plants, maybe even some fabrics, plastics and cardboard. Their teeth are structured similarly to a rabbit's, with four incisors and twelve molars, only two of those incisors being the most visible out of all of their teeth, so much so it almost appears as if those incisors are their only teeth no matter how wide they open their maws.

Teeth aside, a rabbid's stomach seems capable of digesting almost anything but even then it doesn't mean that certain items don't harm the rabbid. Surprisingly, they seem prone to stomach aches and stomach bugs, their body reacting just as any would, expelling the contents of the stomach either by the mouth or the butt. One object that seems to have the most impact on not only the rabbid's stomach but their entire bodies is carrot juice. By some bizarre process, carrot juice being mixed with the acids of their stomach triggers an intense chemical reaction within their bodies, creating a yet-to-be-identified chemical that when absorbed into the bloodstream and making its journey to the brain, manages to interfere with the powerful neurotransmitters of the rabbid's brain. Following suit would be what is well known as symptoms of drunkenness, carrot juice mirroring the process that alcohol undergoes within the human body, yet surprisingly a rabbid ingesting alcohol does nothing but make them a bit gassy. Despite having such an intoxicating affect, it only formed an affinity toward carrots, in some cases becoming an addiction.

Another oddity to take note of is their ability to not only hold onto items within their stomach (whether it be food or miscellaneous trinkets) without them dissolving from the stomach acids but also to allow items to pass through untouched without any irritation. For example, if they swallow an item, they can discard it immediately from the other end, the item being no different than how it first went in, the same goes if an item is inserted from behind and is miraculously discarded from the mouth. The muscles are focused and coordinated enough to do it effortlessly, so much so it's usually done for the fun of it. If a rabbid were to be spit roasted, they very likely would not find an issue in it, they may even find it funny.

As for their digestive waste, it's surprisingly similar to human waste, their toxic diet is no different to that of average city folk, and though their numbers are far higher than that of humans, their waste has not become of any environmental concern. How so? Rabbids appear to prefer doing their business in human outhouses or bathrooms. What about accidents or cases of rabbids doing their business how every animal would? It would likely be tended to by some unfortunate human who believed a neighbor had dropped a deuce in their yards. With how common it is for a rabbid to dispose of their waste as a human, current methods of disposing of said waste did not need to be altered by a lot to accustom to rabbid waste, the only changes being the size of such facilities. Just like how all purified water once came from the toilets of man, it also comes from the toilets of rabbid. And just like a majority of organisms, they expel bodily waste from two exists, the anus and urethra, the urethra often sharing orifices with reproductive organs, but compared to other mammals or any creature of Earth and the Glade, their reproductive organs are quite the oddity.

Reproduction:

Rabbits have quite the reputation for reproducing in massive numbers, so it's to no surprise that rabbids would share this characteristic as well, however for modern rabbids, the methods of their reproduction have been altered so drastically that it can no longer be considered natural reproduction, but instead artificial cloning. Before they developed the technology to clone one another - that era being before they had been bullied into violent madness - they reproduced like any other mammal would, sexually.

Sexual reproduction is the process of the genetic information of two organisms being combined to create offspring, one half of this genetic information coming from the male's sex cells (sperm) whereas the other half comes from the female's sex cells (egg), the delicate process that follows being the long incubation of offspring by egg or womb. The length of the incubation, number of offspring, age of maturity, ovulation cycles and general lifespan of an organism has a massive impact on how often they can reproduce successfully. A rabbit's reproduction rate being incredibly high not only due to their short lifespans as prey animals, but also due to their short pregnancies, large litters, quick maturity, and ability to rebreed immediately after kindling, making it possible for one rabbit to have one litter per month. Yet somehow, having the highest reproduction rate of all livestock, rabbids manage to beat a rabbit's numbers by a lot.

How so? Well for one they're Glade creatures, they seem to all spawn in intense numbers (look at Globox), rabbids no doubt sharing this trait to a more rediculous degree as prey animals of the Glade enviroment. Howver one trait that truly sets them apart and adds to their fertility is the fact that rabbids are hermaphrodite. Baring a unique reproductive organ that not only produces both sperm and egg but allows rabbids to be impregnated and to impregnate others, the entirety of their genitalia protected internally and almost invisible from the outside, being so well hidden that even rabbids themselves forget its existence, the only time it becomes visible is when they breed. Not only does this reproductive organ double their litters, considering rabbids have a seemingly endless life span and intense durability, the mortality rate of rabbid kits would be extraordinarily low, almosy all surviving to maturity and becoming one of millions that will be pumping out litters for who knows how long. How the environment they thrived in lasted for so long with their uncontrollable population is anyone's guess, perhaps they were not as indestructible back in the day, which would explain why there are no pre-cloning rabbids in sight, though it's scary to imagine what in the Glade of Dreams was capable of keeping their numbers in check, perhaps they ate each other. Population control aside, while it's simple to grasp how these creatures reproduced in the past, how they reproduce now is quite the puzzle.

It is assumed that after a long period of intense stress and torture, the rabbids reproduction rate would plummet to the point they became completely infertile, which may have been one of the many factors that contributed to their retreat deep into the depths of the earth. From their retreat came not only the rapid evolution in their technology but a completely new culture that focused on senseless self-experimentation, likely as an attempt to reshape their biology into one that can no longer succumb to horrific abuse. With that constant experimentation came the rabbids that are known and feared, having undergone an unknown amount of genetic alterations to the point their very genetic makeup became incredibly unstable making them prone to abrupt mutations.

This instability would be especially apparent in their behavior, having become erratic and violent, their actions impulsive and without reason, the only constant they maintained being the goal for vengeance and war. While their behavioral quirks and technological advancements are a curiosity to behold, for this portion, their reproduction will be the main focus. Either as a result of frequent mutations or continued frustrations in maintaining any form of infancy (surrogacy or artificially), the rabbids eventually discovered that the only method that successfully kept their species alive was cloning (as shown in the opening scene of Rabbids Alive n' Kicking) utilizing massive cloning pools to spontaneously create many rabbids from one. And due to their tendency to mutate, even clones don't end up the same in blood, behavior, or even appearance as the original, especially with the fact that items or creatures are sometimes tossed into these pools, merging those traits and the rabbid's to create unique rabbids. However these mergings are normally used in smaller pools, meant to only create one clone, as a way to ensure that if the merge results in an undesirable rabbid, it would at least only result in one of its kind instead if many.

Exact clones are possible, but the method of which requires more precision. Instead of pools, pods are used to ensure all genetic information is replicated to the very cell (basing off of Mad Rabbid's cloning machine... which wasn't really a pod, more of an emptied refrigerator). Exact-clones are rare, not because of the effort required, but because the rabbids see no purpose in making many of the same rabbid (what if one day they hate that rabbid and by proxy they end up hating a majority of the population?). If an exact-clone is to be made, the rabbid being cloned has to be one of great importance to the colony, for example, scientists.

Almost all high-ranking professors are exact clones of Ph.D. Barranco, the original being the easiest to recognize with their bandages and bruises, having decided to create an exact-clone of themselves before fully committing to their harmful self-experimentation, not trusting any other rabbid to take their place as the top stable-minded professor (they were very insistent about it, and no matter how much they limped and cried in pain, their obsession with experiencing the brunt of experiments was unwavering). That exact-clone being referred to as Barranco II, who would be the superior of all additional Barranco clones, these additional clones supervising non-Barranco pool-clones who have proved themselves to be decent enough scientists. Exact-clones, of course, would technically be considered as actual clones since the rabbid's build and memories is duplicated to the fullest - unlike pool-clones - but rabbids are strange, and with their strangeness comes the need to make up new, very confusing, and contradictory terms.

To no surprise, the mutations and experiments solidified rabbids as mules, but despite being incapable of reproducing sexually, they managed to maintain their primitive mating behavior, or in more crude terms, their ridiculous sex drive. As made obvious in early rabbid media, these rodents are incredibly horny and do not hold back when expressing it, and as a direct result of assimilating with human culture, what they find attractive would align with human beauty standards. They're already not the brightest of creatures, attraction only dumbing them down that much further, courting anything that catches their eye. Whether they're courting another rabbid, a human, or an inanimate object, like a doll or a traffic cone, maybe even a bar of soap. What a rabbid considers attractive is near impossible to pin down, sometimes it's as obvious as a very fit man or a very curvy woman, but other times it makes no sense at all, like a tennis racket or a plunger. Despite their tastes, they seem to be loyal partners, while not as loyal as albatross, they're at least as loyal as humans, one can't help but feel jealous with how a rabbid cares for their inanimate lover.

(A minor note, but due to earth-settled-rabbids progressively becoming calmer and friendlier over time, it may be possible that rabbids have regained some of their fertility. That's if the Rabbids Short featuring a rabbid-human hybrid is canon.)

Subspecies

With such a long period of experimentation and rapid mutations, its to no surprise that some mutations are more common than others, so much so that they're identified as new breeds of rabbid, those being mini rabbids (depicted in RRRGBA, Rabbids Invasion and MxRSparks of Hope) heavy rabbids (depicted in R4, RRR2, MxRKingdom Battle and MxRSparks of Hope), warrior rabbids (depicted in RRR), butcher rabbids (depicted in R4, RRR, Rabbids Invasion, MxRKingdom Battle and MxRSparks of Hope), kaiju rabbids (depicted in Captain LazerhawkBDR) and ancient rabbids (depicted in Rabbids Invasion).

Mini rabbids as the name would imply are a lot smaller than the average rabbid, so much so they could almost be mistaken for rabbid kits, which unfortunately makes them vulnerable to being pet, grabbed and coddled when they don't want to by both outsiders and other rabbids, rabbids in particular treating them as kits, also maintaining some maternal instincts despite no rabbid kits having been born for centuries. They're often more aggressive and more hyper than the average rabbid, likely to compensate for their small size.

Heavy rabbids are a lot larger than the average rabbid, not to mention a lot rounder. Some utilize their size for tasks that require a lot of muscle, while others utilize their size to do what they want to a stubborn degree, knowing well they're a near unstoppable force and immovable object - at least compared to their mini and average counterparts.

A warrior rabbid is almost three times the size of the average rabbid, their fur prickly and dark, their temperament on par with that of a mini rabbid. Their only duty was to guard rabbid hideouts from outsiders, often seen heavily armored and weilding heavy weaponry. They also share a behavioral quirk, that being sleep-guarding (sleep walking but only in their respective stations) which made them extremely efficient guards. They kept order within rabbid societies, doing as Barranco clones command of them and punishing unruly workers.

Butcher rabbids (also known as gorilla rabbids) are the largest of all workers (worker rabbids accounting for all rabbids excluding kaiju and ancient rabbids), as well as the most intimidating with their muscular build and terrifying roars. Despite being quite the weapon, they're mostly tasked with breaking apart materials and food, hence being butchers. With such a terrifying demeanor, they manage to be the friendliest of workers, but that doesn't mean they aren't horrifying beasts when needed.

Kaiju rabbids are the biggest of all rabbids, their emperor (Emperor Jabbit, the rabbid who ruled all of rabbid kind before they had been driven to madness) having been the first to have mutated in such manner, and despite having the ability to destroy entire cities, they're used to dispose of indestructible rabbid scrap (sometimes disposing of rabbids as well), their fecal matter used to power their hideouts. Despite having such a seemingly torturous purpose, the colossal rabbids are content with it, their endless hunger quenched with how much waste rabbids produce.

Now for ancient rabbids, this variety in particular is a bit more difficult to describe when as far as depicted canonically, there is only one survivor, Lapinibernatus. As he claims, he is an ancient ancestor of the rabbid who was living in a global utopia before life on Earth. Thought that explanation completely contradicts the initial invasion of the rabbids, it can easily be explained when recalling the rabbid's most powerful invention, the time traveling washing machine. It is likely Lapini (short for Lapinibernatus) had used one of these machines to travel far back in time to colonize Earth before it was inhabitable for life, creating the utopia he lived in for an unknown amount of time before it all came crumbling down during the Late Heavy Bombardment, no trace left of it as the eras of life on Earth progressed. For potentially billions of years Lapini would be in a coma, his body eventually incased in a block of ice which would be discovered by humans. Earth-settled-rabbids who had infultrated human facilities being responsible for freeing and reviving him. A plausible set of events to how Lapini came to be, but what about his drawings depicting rabbids as having evolved from him?

Perhaps there had been other survivors of his kind who didn't fall into a coma, instead facing the new environmental extremes head-on, forced to use primitive methods to survive. In the wild, high intelligence isn't a trait that survives for long, while it's capable of evolving a species for the better, it's not a guarantee. The energy required to maintain such intelligence across bloodlines is immense, keeping such a trait costing them the opportunity to form more beneficial traits such as strength, stamina, body mass, stronger immune systems, keeping the body warm/cool, and so on. When it comes to an environment of intense competition, higher thought is bred out in favor of more primitive strengths, which could give reason to why rabbids evolved the way they did, growing in body mass and adaptability at the cost of intelligence, a needed sacrifice for the survival of rabbid kind, at least for the variant of rabbids that Lapini was a part of. Why would a rabbid's evolution go from dimwit, to genius, and back to dimwit? Perhaps they were already the perfect organism as dimwits, ideal for adapting to any environment, planet, or dimension, which is made abundantly clear when contrasting the modern rabbid's behavior with Lapini's behavior. A Quiet, anti-social reclusive rabbid is not as adaptable as a loud, social, and invasive rabbid. While these variants are so physically and behaviorally different, there are some traits they all share that are near impossible to breed/genetically edit out of them, such as their odd body structure, bald spots, ears, weakness to carrots, outbursts, love of dance and music.

[whumpsday]

Traitor/Traitor

Writing Masterlist

content: angst, betrayal, captivity, dehydration, starvation, begging, infected wound

based on this prompt by @shywhumpauthor​!

@amonthofwhump​ March Trope-A-Thon Day 7: Angst / Misunderstandings / Betrayal / Catharsis / Reassurances

Pipit could have sobbed looking at their empty water bottle if there was any moisture left in them to cry with.

It had been days since they’d been thrown in the cell, and no one had come to visit them. They weren’t exactly friends with most of their team, they didn’t hang out outside of work, but they were friendly enough that they thought maybe someone would come check on them. Just to see if they were okay. Especially after they’d been tortured.

But no one did. Not even Dole, someone they actually would call a friend. On the first day, Pipit had been mortified by the concept they might have to beg their own team for food and water, but now they’d do anything for the opportunity.

Would they really be left to die here? To die of dehydration, alone?

That was, if their wounds didn’t get them first. The gash in Pipit’s side where they’d been cut during the interrogation was hot to the touch, still throbbing with pain that only seemed to worsen by the day. The fact that they hadn’t eaten in days and barely drinking water didn’t help. They couldn’t even spare any water to wash it out.

But now they were out of water, too. And they were going to die.

Pipit thought they might die during the interrogation. They were prepared to die, rather than give up what they knew. But then...

They just couldn’t believe that even after surviving all that, being released and sent home, they would die at their own side’s hands instead, branded a traitor. A slow, painful, dry death.

Pipit heard footsteps approaching, and their head snapped up instantly. Someone was here. “Help!” they cried, voice raspy and dry. “Please, I’m still down here! Help!”

The footsteps continued until Dole walked into view of the cell. Dole, the leader Pipit had relied on time and time again. If they could call themself friends with anyone, it would be them. Dole was their mentor, the one who helped them become who they were. Their best friend. They’d been thinking about asking to be more.

But Dole had left them in here just the same. Dole had ordered it. And there he stood, looking at them stone-faced.

Sitting on the floor, Pipit looked up through the bars with pleading eyes, desperate. “Dole, I- I’m dying,” they croaked. “Please, you’ve gotta help me. I need help.” Their face tingled a bit with the feeling of crying, but no tears fell.

Dole unlocked the cell, thank god. Pipit tried to stand up, but Dole just glared icily at them, and-

Pipit fell back to the floor, chest exploding with pain as Dole kicked them in the ribs, hard. They knew how often Dole trained, and all that force against Pipit’s already-weakened body had them crumping into a heap on the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, only making their throat even drier.

“Do you seriously think you have the right to ask me for anything after what you’ve done?” Dole hissed.

Pipit fought the urge to scoot backward, anxious of another kick. They stayed where they were, on the floor where Dole wanted them, and sobbed drily as they clutched their aching chest. “What do you want me to do? I’m sorry!”

“Nothing you can do now,” he snapped. “You already went and blabbed.”

Pipit wanted to argue. They wanted to yell that there were hostages, innocent civilians. But they already tried that, and all it got them was put in here.

They held the empty water bottle up, looking to Dole desperately. Please.

Dole snatched the bottle away so fast it made Pipit flinch. “What makes you think you deserve to live after what you’ve done? You should have fucking died in the interrogation room. You knew what you signed up for when you joined.”

“Please help me,” was Pipit’s only response. “I don’t- I don’t know what to do. Please don’t make me die in here.”

Dole’s glare only seemed to intensify, and Pipit tensed up, afraid they’d just be kicked again.

“Fine.” He slammed the cell door shut behind him as he went to refill the water.

Pipit sighed with relief when he returned with a full bottle, barely resisting the urge to chug it immediately. They had to be smart: who knew if Dole would be accommodating enough to give them more?

“Th-thank you.” The words were empty, just a thing they knew was expected of them. Their eyes held only fear, none of the fondness that their gaze used to hold for Dole, every painstakingly build bit of trust shattered beyond repair.

Dole seemed to feel the same about them, though with resentment instead of fear. “Take it,” he said gruffly, shoving an apple at them, “And get out. I never want to see your face again. Leave the country. I don’t care how. If I find you again, I will kill you with my own two hands.” His eyes welled up with furious tears. “And I hope you think every fucking night about how many people died because you opened your fucking mouth.”

Not as many as the hostages they were threatening.

The people whose information I leaked weren’t civilians.

You didn’t see the looks in their eyes.

“Thank you,” they repeated, the words so hollow they would be surprised if Dole read them with any sincerity at all.

Pipit took Dole’s orders one last time.

-

oneshots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@whuarri​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​

@whumpycries​

@zillastar13​

#amow tropeathon 2023 #angst #whump #my writing #betrayal #aftermath of torture #interrogation #team whump #captivity #starvation #dehydration #begging #whump writing

[quietly-by-myself]

Shadow By My Fireplace - Chapter 1

Masterlist

New story! I'm in the mood to write angst, so angst you shall get.

I don't know where I'm taking this story, but it might contain adult content later down the line. Such chapters will be tagged appropriately. Please be safe and heed the warnings.

There will also be light fantasy elements later on

CW: implied slavery whump, conditioned whumpee, intimate/creepy whumper, death wish, dying whumpee (who survives), non-sexual nudity, infected wounds/sick whumpee, references to threatened tendon cutting, fuck-y headspace, ticks, bone breaking, Lyme, environmental whump, medical whump (including wound cleaning and IV hookups), shock collar, implied noncon body mod

===

When Sacha was a child, he sometimes heard a story from his mother about a mighty knight who fished a powerful witch out of the waters with nothing more than goldenrod. Brought down to his knees by his enemy, the knight had not a choice but to summon her. She’d taken pity upon the knight and blessed him with gifts and healing so he might ride into the horizon.

Even if knights were of the bygone past, Sacha still found himself wishing to be one as a child.

Those days seemed so far away, even if they were the only comfort he had in the walls of his captor. He’d been so hopeful. When had he given up? When had he resigned himself to a life of misery?

The room was dark. It was slightly damp, too, but dampness was better than dry air. Dry air would hurt his fresh wounds more. There wasn’t so much as a blanket or a roll of bandages for the oozing, burning wounds on his back. They were surely infected, but the merciful embrace of death was preferable to a life like his.

A doll, a pet for a corrupt, wealthy man. He was nothing more, nothing less.

No, Sacha was to be out of sight, out of mind when he wasn’t wanted by Master. Nobody could know that he existed. Nobody could know what Master was involved with. That was why Master had trained the voice out of him. He needed to be hidden away from the world, away from the light.

Tears formed in his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for a warm embrace or even just a blanket. He was naked, bleeding, and filthy on the floor. Of course he was freezing. He was many days into starvation, many days into blood loss.

Was the end coming soon?

Master hadn’t been down to see him in many days. The noises upstairs were almost non-existent since yesterday.

Maybe Master was leaving him there to die. Sacha knew it was too merciful a fate.

A rush of chills startled him. Yes, the wounds were in fact infected. A wave of nausea washed over him next. He was seldom nauseous. It wasn’t a good sign.

Maybe he’s waiting for me to try to escape.

Chills rushed through him again, though at the memory of his last escape attempt rather than the fever. 

Hamstringing, Master had called it, right? He would cut Sacha’s hamstring and leave him unable to walk ever again. 

That seemed like a mercy. The less he could do, the less he would upset Master.

Maybe the wounds would infect his blood and give him the ultimate relief.

Sacha decided. He would go upstairs.

The door to his room was unlocked. That wasn’t normal, Sacha knew immediately. Master was testing him. He knew now. 

He opened the door all the way to see an empty house. 

Quietly, Sacha walked to the front door. The last time he’d left the house, he’d come back cold and dripping wet after being left outside for five days with broken ankles, tied to a tree, to suffer the elements. The next week, he’d developed Lyme. It was one of the few times that Master had ever bought him pills - antibiotics.

Sacha took a deep breath. This was what Master wanted him to do, after all. 

On shaky legs, Sacha opened the front door to the wilderness, the wilderness he was entirely unfamiliar with, yet felt like an old friend. He didn’t look back as he ran, a deer in the hunt. He just pushed forward, pushed forward, ran through the rubble and debris, until he no longer recognized anything and the forest was all the same.

Soon enough, those scarred, damaged feet couldn’t hold him up anyone. Not with the weight of infection in his bones. He realized that the adrenaline had carried him far away from home. 

Maybe I’ll die here.

A bird twittered a bit overhead as he collapsed, finally too weak to ever lift himself up again.

It wasn’t exactly a bad place to die. At least it wasn’t in Master’s home.

As the void of unconsciousness swallowed him, Sacha took a deep, peaceful breath. It wasn’t a bad day, not at all.

---

Cyril was quick to gather his materials for the day. Though he certainly had the option of going into town for food and materials, he was tired far too quickly of the crowds to find himself there long enough to finish shopping. He preferred his once yearly trip to pick up seeds and iron for his gardening to interacting with anyone, ever.

He was early to rise, early in the sack. After all, the best picking times for his fruits and vegetables was early in the morning, just after the dew but before high noon.

Of course, that was often the best time for hunting, too, when the deer were still out. Deer meat was easier to ration than the fruits and vegetables, though. He could easily freeze it, while fruits needed to be picked in a very tight window to taste their best.

However, today was a hunting day. The meat from his last catch was gone and the winds were turning cold. He needed all the pelts he could get to avoid having to buy blankets. Plus the meat - it would be difficult to hunt much at all in the hard winter. He needed to store as much meat as possible before the cold came.

Deer, he would not find that day.

After he gathered all his supplies and he went towards his usual trapping spots, he stumbled across something he’d never expected to see.

A man laid in front of him, beaten bloody and covered in horribly infected wounds. Instincts from a time long before his quiet cabin in the woods took over as he approached the man, shouting at him, shaking him, begging for him to be alive.

The scene was familiar, far too much so. He pressed his finger to the man’s neck, feeling for his pulse. It was shallow and fast. More worryingly, the man’s skin was also burning to the touch. 

Cyril didn’t realize the tension in his shoulders until they began to hurt. He took a few moments to slow his breathing.

He probably isn’t contagious. The fever’s from all those wounds.

It was probably a worse case than if it was contagious. If he was so sick from wounds, the infection might be in his bloodstream.

Shit.

Cyril dropped his hunting gear, those protective instincts quickly taking over. He picked the man up in his arms and rushed back to his cabin.

Beyond the panic, Cyril was unmistakably angry. He hated people. As he laid the man on his bed without care for the bloody, dirty mess that was his body and got a thin sheet to cover him, it was easy to remember why.

No, he didn’t hate the survivors of tragedy. He hated that there were people who would hurt another so deeply. Memory told him well that he was just as capable as the next person of perpetuating such tragedies. He couldn’t trust anyone. There wasn’t anyone that he could well and truly trust.

He hurried over to the tap outside. The nights had been cold recently. The water would be cold, too. Cyril poured some water into the bowl, then took some ice from the freezer. Quietly, he dipped a rag in the ice water, rung it, and put it on the man’s forehead.

A pang of panic rose in Cyril’s chest when the man made not a noise in response to the cold compress.

Would this beaten stranger really die in his house?

Another one I couldn’t save.

The idea was unbearable. 

He wouldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t. He couldn’t live with himself if he did. Cyril was tired of letting people go. 

I’ll save this one if it’s the last thing I do.

Cyril pulled the skin up on the man’s arm. It held up perfectly and only went back down when Cyril pressed again.

I still have supplies, right?

Without another thought, Cyril went to the cabinet he dared not touch. Inside was a collection of vials, needles, tubing, and instruments - all from that other time in his life. Quietly, he picked out a bag of saline and some tubing. He didn’t have an IV pole. He’d long gotten rid of the thing. However, he had a bedpost and tape. It would have to do.

To his surprise, the skin prepper in his IV kit was still functional. He hurried to prepare the man and stick the needle in his skin. Blood was very, very slow to back up, but he knew he had a good vein when he pulled the plunger on his IV flush back.

A good vein had been surprisingly easy to find on the dehydrated man. He only had one more bag of fluids, but if this got the man to wake up, Cyril could give him water.

Once the drip was going on the IV, Cyril went back into the vials, looking for anything, any antibiotic he might have. The man needed them desperately and he wouldn’t have time to reach the pharmacy in town before it was too late. 

To his absolute relief, he found a one-year expired vial of cefepime. Cyril found it a blessing to have anything at all, much less something he would administer if given the choice.

Quickly, he drew up the man’s dose and quickly put the bottle back. With the speed he was used to having back in his emergency room days, Cyril injected the medicine into the man’s IV, allowing himself to breathe a small sigh of relief.

Next, he re-wetted the rag on his forehead which had already gone hot. 

I need to check him for ticks.

Carefully, Cyril lifted the sheet to the oozing, bloody wounds covering the man’s body. He noticed something he hadn’t before around the man’s neck - a collar.

Cyril swallowed. 

There were tattoos on him, too, which he could only assume weren’t given of his own will. 

Fuck.

By some miracle, the man did not have a single tick anywhere on his body. However, further investigation revealed the severity of his injuries.

Cyril concluded that if the man survived, it would be a miracle.

He decided to start cleaning the wounds on his legs. He’d need to compress them. The man would be laying down for far too long. Blood clots were always a concern, especially with so much broken flesh.

With a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and bandages, Cyril started to work on the mess that was the poor man’s legs.

This part, he was less familiar with. He had always had help in these situations. Scrubbing each of the wounds so carefully and so deeply was tiring. 

Cyril thought back to that time, three years ago, before his peaceful little life in his cabin in the woods. 

Well, not so peaceful now, I guess.

He found himself lost in his thoughts for a long time. Familiar faces of people he’d saved and, more noticeably, the ones he didn’t, flashed through his mind as he worked away at the wounds, covering them and cleaning them.

Even if some part of him found relief, perhaps even gratification, in healing, it was easy to remember why he’d abandoned medicine for the life he had then. People were undeniably cruel creatures. 

Suddenly, the collar was bothering him. Cyril pulled a knife out of his boot and, with the utmost care, cut the leather off of the man’s neck. Under it, he saw burns. With disgust, he looked back at the collar and noticed the prongs. 

Fucking shock collar.

It took everything in him to steady himself again. 

Although he knew it wasn’t healthy, he found himself focusing on the sad memories of his life before the steady himself. Sorrow was easier to control than ire. 

He was like that until he looked up from his work and saw scared, pale brown eyes looking up at him. Suddenly, the world froze.

He’s alive.

===

Everything bagel tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad

#shadow by my fireplace #sacha #cyril #whump #whump writing #medical whump #med whump #environmental whump #death wish #sick whumpee #dying whumpee that survives #whumpblr #whump fic #cw are above

[thetargaryenbride]

We Cough Blood And We Drink Wine [Tony x Daughter!Reader] - C.5

AN: Please feel free to correct me if you notice something out of line or characters being OOC. Thank you. Hope you like it 🖤🥀

Warning: None

Word count: 3K

Pairing: Thor x Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Chapter 4 || Chapter 6

It’s been a month.

A whole month since you, Nebula, and Tony were stuck on the Milano spaceship.

Tony was getting frustrated and worried about you because you refused to eat. You had told them ever since day one that you were a super soldier and that you had withstood long periods of starvation without a problem. But Tony was still doubtful and he felt that you were lying only so he and Nebula could get some food. He worried too much which would turn into anger and frustration because he was helpless. He couldn’t do anything to save you all. He couldn’t repair the damage inflicted on the ship and you were stuck, unable to fly anymore.

It was eating him from the inside out that he couldn’t help his own daughter who was growing weaker and weaker by the day.

Your wounds from Thanos were so grave and you were just so exhausted and drained that even your enhanced healing abilities couldn’t properly heal you which allowed an infection to settle in. And not eating was making you even weaker. You were nothing more than a normal human now – a normal human who was slowly dying in his arms.

“Hey, you,” whispered Tony as he entered your room. The room used to belong to a woman called Gamora but you had crashed into it after taking the ship.

You were currently lying on a bed, something you had been doing for a long time now, covered by blankets in a futile attempt at warming you. The raging fever was making you so cold. Colder than the Siberian fields you had crossed.

“Hey,” you whispered, sending him a smile, your eyes staying closed. They were too heavy. You felt a sudden prickling sensation on your arm and you guessed it was time for your medication. Tony and Nebula had been surprised to find out that Quill had an impressive stock of medical supplies on the ship and they had tried their best to keep your state stable. Recovery was agonizingly slow, though.

“How are you feeling today?” asked the man and you hummed.

“A bit better.”

He smiled. You didn’t need to look at him to know that he did. You two had gotten very good at such types of communication. You could just feel him, his energy, and he could just feel you. Just like how you were exceedingly good at communicating through your eyes only. You could hold a whole detailed conversation just by looking at one another and moving your eyebrows.

“I, uh, bear good news! You’ll be… out of your misery soon,” he sniffed. “We all will.”

“Charming,” you let out a weak chuckle. “Let me guess. Oxygen is ending soon,” you struggled to do so, but you finally cracked your eyes open and looked at him.

He had gotten thinner and weaker, you noticed. You felt concern but at the same time relief. Because death would soon embrace you all and you would finally rest in peace. The only thing that was bugging you was that you would die with many regrets and unfinished business.

And with unredeemed sins.

Suddenly, hot waves crashed on your skin and you gasped, body convulsing. Tony flinched as he quickly took another needle and filled it with a light purple liquid. Finding the needed vessel, he didn’t hesitate to pierce it and pump the drug inside. A few seconds later, you calmed down.

Things like that would occur occasionally. You would suddenly get extremely cold then the temperature would jump and you’d feel extremely hot. Ice and fire would dance in you and cause a hurricane.  

Tony sighed shakily as he grabbed a cloth and dampened it in cold water, tapping your face with it a few times before settling it on your forehead.

“It’s ok,” he choked. “Everything’s gonna be ok,” he caressed your face and leaned to kiss the crown of your head before he climbed in the bed and brought you closer. With whatever strength you had left, you snuggled to your father’s side and let his presence wash away all the fear. You knew he was not telling you something, but for all your genius, you couldn’t understand what it was. 

The oxygen was ending soon and he knew that you had realized that. You even told him it out loud. But what you didn’t know was that ‘soon’ was too close for comfort. In fact, ‘soon’ was coming in mere hours.

And he couldn’t tell you.

He didn’t want to tell you that death would snatch you all away in the morrow. He didn’t want you to die terrified. And despite your efforts at hiding it, he knew that you were.

“Sleep… sleep now,” he muttered as he tightened his arms around you and you nuzzled in the crook of his neck. The least he could do was comfort and warm you. He knew you always slept better when he was close by. He managed to drive both fear and nightmares away. The least he could do was help you die in peace. And the only way for you to die peacefully was in your sleep.

Not much time passed and he felt you relax as your breathing evened out. He planted one more kiss on the crown of your head before he stood up and moved to the other room.

“Hey,” he murmured and the blue woman nodded her head.

“You should be with Y/N,” she rasped out and his lips twitched as he turned to glance in the direction of your room for a second before back at the alien.

“Oh, I’m going back to her… I just… I don’t want to leave you alone either,” he told her offhandedly and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I uh, actually came to invite you to join our sleepover party,” he said with fake enthusiasm and she looked at him with wide eyes. He sat down on the floor next to her and both stared at the window and what was beyond it – the stars.

“I’ll go grab my pillow,” she finally uttered and he nodded, watching as she stood up and left for her room. He stayed for a while, staring at the galaxy stretching in front of him, trying to keep his emotions and tears at bay. He failed. He failed the universe. He failed his friends and teammates. He failed Pepper. But most importantly, he failed his own child. In the end, he didn’t break the vicious cycle of bad parenting. He was just as failure a father as Howard had been.  

Just as he was about to stand up and go back to Nebula and his daughter, a bright light blinded him. It was coming closer and closer and closer. The energy it was giving off was no different than that of an actual star.

Then he managed to look past the glow with squinted eyes and see the shape of a woman who was staring at him with concern and regret. And then she dove down and a second later he felt the ship shake as it began moving once again.  

He was shocked at first but the shock melted into hope as a wide smile stretched from ear to ear. He rushed to the other room, almost bumping into Nebula, and he excitedly told her and, now woke from the sudden jerking movements you, about what just happened. Relief flooded all three of you as you shared a group hug.

A few hours had passed since the appearance of the strange woman. For a second there, as the oxygen was getting thinner and thinner and it was getting harder to breathe, you had begun losing the hope you had built previously. But then you saw the familiar sight of planet Earth.

The joy and relief were indescribable.

You entered the atmosphere and not long after the ship was landing on the lawn of the Avengers Facility.

The people who had been inside had felt the tremors and had run out, wondering what was happening. When they saw the spaceship, their thoughts immediately went to Tony, you, and the others. Who else could be on that ship after all?

They gathered in front of the Milano with hopeful faces.

Then the doors opened and the fresh familiar Earthly oxygen flooded in. You took large, much-needed gulps and let more smiles grace your faces. Tony insisted on you being taken out first but both he and Nebula were too weak. They could barely stand on their feet, much less carry another person so Tony opted to rush, more likely stumble, out of the spaceship to ask for help. The moment he stepped out, he was swarmed by his teammates and surprisingly hugged by Steve, all previous animosity vanishing.

“I lost the kid,” he muttered and Steve’s arms squeezed him. “Pepper…is she?” he asked, dreading the answer, but then the strawberry-blonde showed up breathless and latched onto him for dear life.

“Tony… where is Y/N?” asked slowly Natasha with glistening eyes filled with worry and dread, and he nodded back at the ship.

“She’s inside but her condition is pretty bad. Someone has to… someone has to go get her and bring her to the medical facility at once,” he spoke quickly and shakily and Thor immediately rushed inside the ship.

He harshly opened the doors and peeked in all rooms before he finally found you in one of them, lying on the bed, looking so vulnerable. It sent tremors down his spine. You looked to be on the brink of death and it was their fault.

No. Thanos’ fault.

No. Their fault.

He rubbed his temple in order to disperse the forming headache before he gently pulled the blankets away. His heart dropped. There wasn’t even a single spot that wasn’t covered in bandages.

“Thor,” you whispered with a small smile and he gulped, smiling back at you the best he could.

“Hey, my lady,” he then gently lifted you, trying his best to ignore the quiet whimpers of pain, and moved slowly so as to not jerk you too much, exiting the ship and joining the rest. Natasha couldn’t hold back a tear when her eyes landed on your broken form and the woman moved closer to you, now safely and comfortably tucked in Thor’s arms, caressing gently your cheek.

“How did we get here, huh?” you asked wobbly as your own tears escaped and Natasha managed a broken smile.

“We fought...We lost,” were the words that barely left her lips. “But we’ll fix everything,” she promised and you nodded, your lips still trembling as more tears leaked.

“Blonde suits you,” you whispered and Natasha chuckled, leaning down and pecking you on the cheek.

“C’mon, kiddo. Let’s get you fixed, hm?” spoke Tony softly as he approached the three and caressed his daughter’s head, wiping your tears with his thumbs. You gulped, nodding, and he sent you a weak smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead before stepping away and letting Thor move forward as everyone started walking inside the Facility.

Steve and Thor helped Tony. They brought him to the nearest bathroom and showered him, getting rid of all the dirt and grime. Then they put him in new clothes.

Meanwhile, Pepper, Natasha, and the new woman – Carol Danvers was her name – helped wash you up, but instead of putting you in fresh clothes, like how the guys did with Tony, they put you in a hospital gown because you needed to have more IVs plugged into you than Tony needed and your freshly bandaged wounds would need to receive more treatment very soon.

Bruce forced both of you onto wheelchairs afterward and even when he insisted you were admitted into the infirmary so you could rest, recover, and be treated more thoroughly, you insisted to be part of the gathering first.

You and Tony attracted looks of pity as you rolled into the big meeting room. You were both so skinny and fragile that everyone worried that you’d crumble at any second now.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth,” spoke softly Rhodey, followed by Natasha.

“World governments are… in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census and it looks like he did… He did exactly what he said he was gonna do,” she spoke grimly as multiple familiar faces appeared on the hologram screens, one of them being Peter, making Tony and you look down and place your heads in your hands in total defeat, guilt, and sorrow. “Thanos wiped out… 50% of all living creatures.”

“Where is he now? Where?” asked Tony and Steve shook his head.

“We don’t know. He just opened a portal and walked through.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tony pointed at Thor, who was sitting on a stool next to your wheelchair, his gaze focused on the floor, his elbows on his knees. You were sending him concerned glances that would occasionally flicker to Tony to make sure he was doing all right. Seriously, you just worried too much for these two men. 

“Ah, he’s pissed,” answered Rocket. “He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but there's a lot of that goin' around, ain't there?”

“Honestly, at this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.”

“Maybe I am.”

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep space scans, and satellites, and we’ve got nothing,” sighed Steve before his eyes fully landed on Tony and then on you. “Tony, Y/N, you fought him,” he stated and the two in question turned to look at the soldier with furrowed eyebrows.

“Who told you that?” asked Tony. “We didn’t fight him… No. He wiped my face with a planet and broke every bone in my daughter’s body and then almost choked her to death-” he sneered as his nose scrunched up, causing everyone to flinch as their eyes widened at the revelation of the battle that the Starks had led against the Titan. “-while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the store. That’s what happened. There was no fight,” he accentuated the last word and Steve nodded.

“Ok. Did he give you any clues? Any coordinates? Anything?” Tony just made a mind-blow motion with his hand and Steve sighed as he turned to face you. “What about you, Y/N/N? Do you remember anything?”

“I…uh…” you stuttered as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration which only brought a headache, making you wince as your hand flew to grasp your head. Tony snorted in irritation as he glared at Steve accusingly.

“Yeah, tough luck asking her. I mean, it’s not like the grape didn’t use her for a fly swatter. It’s not like she spent two months on a ship going through infections and fever. Like, can you not torment my kid with pointless questions, Rogers?! As if Thanos would reveal any coordinates to anyone. Are you kidding me?! We got nothing!” spat out Tony and everyone looked down. Thor’s eyes landed on you again and he grasped your shaking hand. You gave him a tired smile through watery eyes and looked at your lap once again.

“I saw this coming a few years back,” muttered Tony after a minute of silence. “I had a vision. I didn’t wanna believe it. I thought I was dreaming.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus,” continued Steve but Tony interrupted him.

“And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy… Sorry,” he said as he stood up. “You know what I need? I need to shave,” he grit out as his hand crashed down the bowl and mug in front of him as he wanted to support himself from falling, using the table. You straightened in the wheelchair, wanting nothing more than to get up and go help your father before he did something that would threaten his health…again.

“And I believe, I remember telling-” he started as he struggled to remove his IV.

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” came in Rhodey’s warnings but he didn’t pay any heed to them.

“-why otherwise, that what we needed was a suit of armor around the world. Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That’s what we needed!”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” asked Steve

“I said we’d lose. You said ‘We’ll do that together too’,” he imitated Steve’s speech perfectly. “Well, guess what, Cap. We lost. And you weren’t there. But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers? We're the Avengers? Not the Prevengers?” he asked as he whirled to look at each member.

“Ok, you made your point. Now sit down, please,” said Rhodey sternly as he tried to grab Tony and help him sit but the man wouldn’t budge.

“No, no. Here’s our savior… She’s great by the way,” he said as he pointed at Carol, and Rhodey was now actively holding Tony and trying to force him to sit down.

“Tony, sit, sit down!”

“We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mills… I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options… Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar,” he grit out in Steve’s face as his hand flew to his chest, ripping out the arc reactor, causing you to quickly stand up alarmed, only to get dizzy as your legs shook. Thor shot up and grabbed you by the shoulders, steadying you as he watched both you and Tony with concern.

“Here, take this. You find him and you put that on,” he growled as he shoved the glowing piece into the captain’s chest. “You hide,” he muttered as he stumbled and slumped on the ground, Rhodey barely catching him.

“Tony!”

“Dad!”

“I'm fine. I...” he waved you off but before he could reassure you that he was alright, he collapsed.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers endgame #tony x reader #dad!tony #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #stark reader #thor x stark!reader #thor x reader #reader #reader insert

[kkglinka]

Ok, so I've been backreading Warrior Nun fandom meta, and random assortment of fics, and I definitely have some contrary opinions. Typical me. :)

The halo is advanced medical technology that doesn't belong on the mortal realm because it channels and is powered by faith energy. (it needn't be religious faith, as the show repeatedly emphasizes, Jillian, Mary and then Ava all demonstrating other forms). It is medical tech that is inappropriately being used in a combat capacity. Much like using a cardiac crash kit as a taser — you can, but that's not what it's for.

We know that the halo will reject individuals, likely based on their mental profiles, and how focused they are on life and living. Someone in despair, too ambitious, too willing to martyr themselves, who otherwise loses faith in living becomes incompatible The biggest clue is how Adriel first chooses as the meatbag locker for the halo, upon its initial theft. He lands in the middle of a battle and looks around for the most mortally wounded by still living person who seems important, and stuffs it in her. He knew the halo would accept an injured host who had reason to live, and counted on her grateful loyalty.

What's interesting is that the halo and crown's color coding indicate that they do not come from Reya's realm, which is color coded blue. The tarasks have divinium bones and kill wraiths, so they aren't demons unless Reya's realm is 'hell'. Then there's Lilith, also color-coded orange, whom Adriel makes no attempt to strike down, but immediately attempts to seduce and placate. Because she is a threat to him. (I suspect Adriel was supposed to retrieve the halo for Reya, but made a bid to keep that power for himself, then unseat her, hence the need for the arc). The warrior nun essentially carries non-combat tech from both realms, re-purposed into weapons, symbolizing how humans have choice, etc.

Second, I don't think Ava's ever died. It's definitely framed that way, and I totally get the romantic, symbolic appeal of that, but I never even considered it while viewing.

We are given explicit info about the orphanage such as the care facilities being very low tech. No heart monitor, eeg, ekg, seemingly not even a basic pulsometer like when you get checked in at a doctor's office. We also see that Ava was unfazed by the nun administering an injection, suggesting this was at least a bit normal. {Whoops, forgot Ava explicitly states no need for pain meds). So I'm guessing she's among small percentage of individuals who have a natural resistance to opiods. She was still in a conscious, hallucinogenic state when the nun was declaring her dead.

Severe overdose symptoms include cold, clammy blue skin, significant respiratory depression, extremely weak pulse and coma. The pulse may be undetectable to physical touch, and all metabolic action is depressed. It's a bit like severe hypothermia, and death in opiod resistant individuals is gradual, if left untreated. In short, the person looks and feels dead. Ava further displays the lingering symptoms of overdose through the first couple of episodes, such as disorganized thinking, emotional instability, lack of coordination, reduced inhibition and, yes, vomiting. That nun had 'mercy' killed so many other kids that she got complacent.

While Ava's midair fall likely caused multiple fractures and internal bleeding, along with loss of consciousness, it wasn't instant death. There was no rapid blood loss which would have caused heart failure, and aside from a portion of separated cranium, her head was intact. It takes several minutes of oxygen starvation for the body to begin dying, and neural function to cease.

Real life medical response would have been to drain fluid buildup while restarting and stabilizing the heart, if necessary, and sealing off the brain from infection, then monitoring for brain trauma from the deceleration squish. It was a scary fall, and Beatrice flipped out, but Mary kicked Ava off a cliff in season one, down onto an uneven rocky surface. What struck me is that Beatrice might have helped power the halo.

(As an aside, if the halo is powered by faith energy, then the decimation of the O.C.S. and their belief in the warrior nun, would have been a huge energy loss for the halo. The only rapid solution would be for Ava to go public).

Anyway, on occasions when the halo temporary runs dry, Ava does not die. Instead, she reverts to a quadriplegic state, indicating that the halo was unable to repair an existing healed injury. So it is acting in a continual state, but as a disability aid, rather than keeping her alive. For her, the halo provides a neural bypass system... which we also saw in the wheelchairs ArcTech developed. Competing disability representation needs and all, but I appreciate that Ava was not miraculously healed.

In short, Ava wouldn't die if it was removed, but her intense desire to live, disability, high altruism and lack of violent/martyr conditioning, made her the ideal candidate. For a device that's not from Reya's realm.

#fandom #warrior nun

[twst-drabbles]

Lilia 6

Summary: Lilia only caught the tail end of the Broken Mirror Incident. But even so, he knew changes were coming.

(Eldritch Prefect time once again. It’s been a while.)

It was less a hunch and more a down right fact that Malleus would miss the ceremony. Lilia saw the robes and heard the whispers around him. A part of Lilia had hoped that there would be a last minute invitation for Malleus to attend the ceremony, but the more rational side to him also knew that was likely to never happen.

Sure, Lilia could simply give the other dorm leader a gentle reminder to invite the Briar Valley heir, or even just have Malleus be in the ceremony with or without an invitation, but such things would produce nothing. There would only be silence pretending to be convenient forgetfulness. And for a royal heir to show up anywhere uninvited would only give fodder to foreign enemies to sully his reputation.

As such, the natural result was for Lilia to go in his stead. Not the most happy of compromises, as he’s sure Malleus will be upset, but he certainly isn’t going to give anyone the implication that Diasomnia, and by extension the royal heir, is neglectful of newly appointed students.

And so Lilia prances towards the door, already used to this song and dance, ready to see the fresh faces of nervous students who have likely heard whispers of this powerful mage as their housewarden.

But the doors flew off their hinges, blasted back by a near explosive force. The edge of them flicked at his hair, pulling a strand off. Long unused instincts flared back to life and Lilia flickered to the side, just in time to see out pour of large black shadows came fleeing out the door.

They writhed and they screamed. They brought curses to his ears that he only heard in the wails of dying soldiers. A coagulated mass of starvation, hunger and yearning. They float like clouds but moved like flesh covered in shadowy maggots. It gazed at him, grinned at him with teeth, tongues and infected wounds.

It didn’t linger for even a second, but it was enough for pressure to build in his head, for his lungs to be robbed of air, for his hands to dig deep into himself and bring out the person Silver, Sebek and Malleus should never see.

But then he heard wails. Small, individual cries, shivering gasps and sniffles, and the war soldier was buried once more.

Lilia turned on his heel and went through the door, finding students kneeling and huddling on the floor in droves. Some huddle together, but most clutched onto themselves for stability.

One student stood out among the rest. You stood out, for the fact that you were still standing, right in front of the mirror.

Or what’s left of it.

Mirror shards were scattered at your feet, ceremonial robes ripped to mere sashes, with your blood leaking through deep gashes. It wasn’t enough to pool, but it still dripped down onto the fine pieces of glass. You had your back to everyone, facing a mirror that only showed a deep abyss.

Lilia made sure to keep you within his line of sight as he gently coaxed students to get up, to support each other as they exited the room. With his actions, the other housewardens followed suit.

A part of him wanted to rush over to you, to make sure you weren’t stuck in place from fear alone, but the headmage had beat him to it. A coat was placed over your head, and the little sagging of your shoulders was enough to tell him that you weren’t stuck in your own mind.

Let Crowley take care of you and the damaged Black Mirror. For now, Lilia will focus on the Diasomnia students and figure out what that thing he encountered was.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #lilia #lilia vanrouge #eldritch au #reader insert

[fizziepopangel]

The Human Centipede Trilogy (TW: mentions of gore, death, and SA)

The first sequence of The Human Centipede was released in 2010 with its second and third installments following closely behind in 2011 & 2015. Labelled as horror, slasher, and splatter, the writer and director of this trilogy (Tom Six) takes viewers on 3 separate journeys; each getting more disturbing than the last.... so much so that only the first movie was worth watching. And, yes, I did waste roughly 4 hours of my short little life watching all 3.

For anyone reading this who isn't familiar with the concept of The Human Centipede movies, the photos should give you an idea of the basic concept of the movies. This of course being that a string of people is surgically strung together mouth the ass, taking the phrase "eat shit" to a while new, sickening level.

Sequence 1: Believe it or not, the 2010 movie was actually good, and something I would and have recommended to those who think they can stomach it. This movie depicts a crazy German doctor kidnapping 3 tourists and sewing the strangers together to create one long digestive tract.... While the doctor's experiment works and he does end up with a functioning three-person centipede, his overall success ends with the tail end of the centipede unaliving himself and the front of the centipede dying from blood poising from the basement surgery (big surprise there, huh?), and the doctor himself being shot fatally by a police officer. While the doctor being unable to hurt anymore people was definitely a huge win, the two officers in his home also ended up being fatally wounded and leave the middle segment of the centipede alive, alone, and most likely on her way to a slow, painful death from dehydration, starvation, or eventually infection from being sewn to two different dead bodies. Despite the ending, overall, the movie was a solid, well shot piece of gore. If I were to rate the film, I would give it a solid 6.5 out of 10 and I wouldn't be opposed to sitting down to watch it again some time.

Sequence 2: A year after the original movie was released, the second sequence of the trilogy came into existence. This movie, while again written and directed by a mister Tom Six, followed a different storyline. As much as I went into this movie experience wanting to like it, there is very little to say about it that's actually good. This sequence actually takes place in a timeline in which the first movie was a movie that the main character (Martin) has an unhealthy obsession with. Martin, a man shy, mentally challenged little man suffering from abuse that had been ongoing since his childhood, falls in love with the idea of the human centipede and decides to study the film in order to make his own human centipede. I won't bore anyone with the details of each individual instance of Martin's crazed centipede extravaganza, but I will say that plot wise, the movie seemed lazily written, and I was sad to see that the movie was shot completely in black and white, which seemed to drown out most of the gore and splatter. On top of that, most deaths in the movie seemed to do little to advance the plot, only really done for the dramatics of it all... and the lazy writing in this sequence really used the "it was all just a dream" trope to wrap the movie up.... While the acting was decent, the style choices in this movie, the unnecessary deaths and crude behavior all seemed like a desperate effort to shock viewers into believing it was good horror because it was uncomfortably gross. Due to the poor stylistic choice and lack of a halfway decent plotline, this film ranks extremely low on my list of things to watch again , ranking at only a 2 out of 10.

Sequence 3: Although fully in color this time, this was arguably the worst thing I've sat through start to finish. After watching the first sequence and enduring the second, I felt obligated to watch the final sequence, and while I again started the movie with a bowl of ramen and an open mind, I quickly found that I would have a long hour and a half. Sequence 3 is centered around Bill Boss (played by the same actor who played the doctor in sequence 1), a cruel yet cowardly prison warden. Again, in this film universe, sequence 1 and 2 are bother purely fictional works pitched to Bill Boss by his accountant to rehabilitate the inmates, cut costs and crack down on prison violence. This leads to the idea that they may be able to make a human centipede with the 500 inmates within the prison walls to present to the governor when he visits the prison. When this experiment is completed, Bill proceeds to shoot and kill the prison doctor that helped them make their sick centipede and worm ideas a reality for being too excited to continue his work when he asks about the next round of surgeries without the knowledge that the entire thing had been shot down by the governor just moments before. His accountant suffers the same fate when the governor returns to the prison with a change of heart about the centipede idea being a permanent fixture in their facility, crediting Dwight (the accountant) for the idea. From SA to torture to murder over greed, to the 500 person centipede (and the caterpillar), there was nothing good within the near two hours I sat through it. It was stale, needlessly vulgar, and overall extremely upsetting to watch. After almost tapping out while watching the movie, I can say with full confidence that I will never be sitting through this again unless there is a hefty amount of cash on the line. there isn't a rating low enough to give this sequence an accurate rating.

Now, I know no one asked me to talk about this trilogy, but I had to. The movies were just too much to not talk about them. I thank everyone who read and enjoyed my late night ramblings on the movie, anyone who didn't can eat shit (see what I did there lol😂).

#fizziepop thoughts #tw mention of death #tw mentions of sa #horror movies #bad movies #movie review #human centipede #tom six

[marlasomething]

(my) Mag a Week: Meat is Soul

Hello there!

I am participating in the "a mag a day" by @a-mag-a-day idea which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened. This is last week's, and the previous one there wasn't because I was pretending to be a Roman demigod...life can be FUN (and with this week hiatus I might use the writing time to finish the post-each season and post-each hiatus ones...). For today I rolled Archivist!Martin Blackwood's TERRIBLE Mom and The Flesh (Eps. 156-176). It's a Season 5 style one...let's see how that goes from now on!

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: body horror (very mild), death, betrayal, self-harm, parenting A+

Also on AO3!

Of bodily and mental autonomy, or the lack of them.

Audio recorded by The Archivist, in situ.

 Meat is meat. The person remembered having read that once, in a…statement? She used to read them, for work, for pleasure, for… existing.

Meat might be meat, but its presence is not enough to properly be, you have to be Something Else to be complete. And this person…this person chose curiosity, she infected her body with curiosity before she had even realised that was the proper pronoun to refer to herself. Her flesh, naturally tender, became hardened with questions and the answers she compulsory searched for.

What a pity that, in the end, no matter how grandiose the personality you inflect upon the meat is, you still have to have some physical presence…and she didn’t anymore.

Still, there she was there; in some pictures, in some vague memories of one called Melanie King, who might have had a crush on her, sadly that she could never reciprocate…maybe she could have taken her now, instead of the broken creature she is now trying to dominate.

 Jon never cared of his body; he cared so little he had been at the verge of dying of dehydration, starvation and/or sheer tiredness more than once. Now, in this new world; this new world he somehow knows should have been his, haven’t the man he had allowed to touch him carelessly shown to his mother the texts that could have doomed him instead of the eyes currently in what was left of his mind…for it was not complete anymore. Only his body was.

His mind has been lost to paranoia and the strings he is willingly allowing The Mother of Puppets to pull, all not to think too much of the kind soul uselessly sacrificed. His soul is so broken the pieces hurt as they try to find each other through bone, blood and what little is left of his meat.

Yet, his body remained his. Rail thin, of skin as dry as a desert and sight worth of an elderly person…but his after all. At least, that was what he thought.

Something is crawling, reclaiming it.

Meat is meat, and his is being marinated with the last wimps of another soul in search of a feeble last try at human life. This soul seems sorry, but not enough to stop.

Just as Jon cannot bring himself to be glad enough of Sasha not being dead anymore. At least, with luck, she will conquer the skin that Martin once caressed.

He had eaten it all and it still aches between his crooked teeth.

 Sasha was not much broader than his former coworker, but she was way taller than the insignificant remnant of a man Jon had always been. Alas, when the union came, meat had to come from somewhere, and so the bones broke.

Thin calcified structures bending to the subconscious wishes of its new owner, who just wanted to exist. And, to exist, physical substance is always needed. They collapse with the existing flesh, making it swells up with the irritation and infection of the putrid air created around the man who had been still, wounds open to the wind, for far too long.

The whole size of the body increases, though there is no proper control over it, not for real. It is just a mass that once was someone, that now tries to be another one who has been lost for far too long. It only manages to stand in there, having to get up so to liberate pressure from within its piled cells.

 They are absolutely nothing of their own, but at least They Are . Their physical presence has trapped them both and won’t let go, as it grows as a bizarre human-shaped weeping tumour…until it breaks.

Only its flesh knows who they will become when the moment eventually came, when their meat turned to be another meat .

  Yes…meat is meat, but I am rather glad I don’t have to worry about the state of mine anymore.

Good riddance, Sims, you should have chosen better than my disgrace of a son.

#a mag a day #a mag a week #mag horror #statement #original statement #the magnus archives spoilers #fanfic #tma #magnuspod #martin blackwood's mom #jonathan sims #sasha james #the flesh #alternate season 5 #alternate universe #ao3

[butterflyinthewell]

Heisei Godzilla headcanons

You want the biggest autistic infodump ever? Here you go. All my Heisei Godzilla brain soup in one post! Most of these are 20+ years old!

Trigger warnings for under the cut:

body horror, puke, suffocation, starvation, burning, animal suffering.

(This document will be confusing to people unfamiliar with Godzilla lore, sorry! The Godzilla wiki is a good place to get familiar.)

Table of contents:

LEGACY OF GOJIRA

Disability headcanon for Godzilla and other stuff...

Godzilla’s heart!

Godzilla’s brain!

Godzilla’s motor issues

Godzilla’s hyperthymesia

Mutating was traumatic to Godzilla and it changed how his disability affects him.

Old Tongue

How Shezilla takes it.

Shezilla’s identity crisis

Family stuff

Play has different roles…

How they screw! (NSFW, stop at this title if you don’t want to know!)

LEGACY OF GOJIRA

A summary of my headcanon for the Heisei era timeline pre- and post- Godzilla vs King Ghidorah, and where my stuff fits in. I put this first because some of this weirdness will get explained afterward. Think of it as an appetizer.

***

Now, some terminology to avoid confusion.

I will use Gojira when I’m speaking about the creature who appeared in 1954. He is the father of Godzilla.

And I will say Godzilla when speaking about the creature who appeared in 1984 onward. He is Gojira’s son.

.

Pre-Futurians:

A young adult godzillasaur charges into a battle between American and Japanese soldiers on Lagos island. It’s WW2. He chases the Americans away, but is wounded in the process and collapses on the forest floor. Shindo and his Japanese troops thank him, apologize for not being able to carry him and leave.

An elderly godzillasaur comes onshore with a whale in his mouth and finds his wounded son. He runs to the younger dinosaur’s side, manages to get him to eat the whale meat and tries to lick his wounds clean. Days go by. Infection sets in and becomes sepsis. The younger godzillasaur is definitely dying.

Then a morning arrives where a blinding flash goes off in the sky. Both dinosaurs have the scales melted off their bodies and they are soon covered in fallout ash. The younger dinosaur convulses and screams in pain. The older one holds his hand and conceals his agony behind a stoic visage. He stays by his son’s side until they both black out from the pain.

Gojira awakens weeks later aware that he is different.

He looks to his son, who is breathing and unresponsive. Godzilla only moves to writhe, convulse and shriek in pain. Unimaginable anguish fills Gojira because this bright light made him and his only child suffer.

Weeks pass. He waits for his son to open his eyes and tells him to stay on the island. Godzilla always listens when told to stay somewhere. He is too sick and weak to move anyway. Gojira tells Godzilla he loves him and heads out to sea.

Fall arrives. It’s November 3, 1954, and Gojira crashes across Odo island. When he pops his head over the hill, he is telling the humans he will destroy them. He heads into Tokyo not long after. His rampage is an act of pure, spiteful revenge. Days later, he is killed by the Oxygen Destroyer. As he dies, he curses at the humans for the suffering they caused him.

Godzilla spends more time exposed to the radioactive fallout, so he grows a bit larger than his father although not by much. He wanders around Lagos island until the chill of winter arrives. He spends days calling for his father, but gets no answer. So he finally swims out to sea and spends the next several decades alternating between hibernating and absorbing radioactive waste in and around the island.

Finally, he had consumed all the radiation nearby and has to venture out to find more. He also hoped to find his father. So, in December of 1984, Godzilla made his presence known by attacking submarines, a nuclear power plant and finally coming ashore.

(My inserted headcanon) A young 13 year old Miki Saegusa was in the train car Godzilla picked up and dropped. She was the only survivor because her parents shielded her with their bodies.

Steven Martin was correct when he said Godzilla was looking for something. Unfortunately, what Godzilla sought could never be found because his dad is dead. Only Miki knows who he’s looking for.

The situation escalated, ultimately ending with the Super X destroyed and Godzilla plunging into Mt Mihara.

Godzilla was released from the volcano in 1989. He encounters Miki again, gets infected with the anti-nuclear energy bacteria and battles Biollante. After defeating her, he heads out to sea where he proceeds to be ravaged by the ANEB.

Enter the Futurians… Miki Saegusa is among the people from the 90s to go back in time…and here comes the fun part.

🌀🌀🌀🌀

Post-Futurians:

Godzilla is teleported off Lagos island and into the Bering sea at a randomly chosen time (1970s), where he lands on a bunch of nuclear waste and undergoes his painful mutation utterly alone. It’s more violent because the nuclear waste is more concentrated and toxic.

(My inserted headcanon) Miki returns to the present with the others. She feels a weird fracture in her memory, as if aspects of her past happened twice, but she doesn’t tell anyone because it’s too confusing to explain.

Behind her, history is repairing itself…

Gojira comes ashore on Lagos and can’t find his son. The nuclear bomb test happens as planned (which also created King Ghidorah from the abandoned Dorats, but it took a long time for him to grow up to size), and Gojira suffered through his mutation alone, too.

But he no longer had a reason to wait around, so he left the island as soon as he was strong enough to move without screaming in pain. He crosses Odo island and makes landfall in Japan in August instead of November.

When he pops his head over the hill, he is asking the humans if they saw his son or know where he is. They don’t understand, so he gets pissed and trashes Tokyo. He is killed by the Oxygen Destroyer. As he dies, he calls out for his son.

Far away in another time in the Bering sea, Godzilla wanders between unconsciousness and seizures and misery because his surroundings are so toxic. When the mutation process is complete, he is twice the size of his father. He wanders the seafloor, absorbing stray radioactive waste between long stretches of sleep.

The events of 1984 and 1989 play out the same, but people remember Godzilla as being 100 meters tall (328 feet).

(My inserted headcanon) Miki’s younger 1984 self is picked up in the train car as before, but now she senses Godzilla recognizing her and being confused as to why. He shows her images of herself as an adult in a jungle. Her 1989 encounter with him on the helipad dredges up the same confusion.

She lives her life up to the Futurians again, which closes the loop, and now she understands what happened and why she feels like she has lived her life up to that point twice. Past Miki and present Miki are now one and her feeling of fracture goes away.

Shindo sends a sub out to recreate Godzilla to fight King Ghidorah, but he doesn’t know Godzilla already exists until it’s too late.

Godzilla is gravely sick with the ANEB, but Shindo’s nuclear submarine powers him up enough to overcome the illness. He comes ashore in Japan and takes down King Ghidorah and kills the malicious Futurians who created King Ghidorah.

In typical Godzilla fashion, he goes stomping into Tokyo. He encounters Shindo in one of the skyscrapers he is about to knock down. Shindo, the man Godzilla sees as the person who deserted him to suffer through his mutation. He kills Shindo with his breath and comes face to face with Mecha-King Ghidorah. The battle ends with Mecha-King Ghidorah destroyed and Godzilla is plunged back into the sea.

Time has been rewritten, but Godzilla’s existence is a fixed point and cannot be overwritten. No matter what anyone does in the past, the universe will ensure Godzilla exists.

Shezilla happens in 1994 (movie year with inserted headcanon), a year after Godzilla battles Mothra and Battra.

Time splits 2 ways from the moment of her conception in a Petri dish. If the Doctor was flying the TARDIS through here, they will see a timeline split here, and the future they see depends on which branch in the timeline they follow after Shezilla enters the picture.

🌀🌀🌀🌀

BRANCH 1– ‘Canon’ timeline: Shezilla’s mutation overtakes her due to an underdeveloped nuclear gland. She dies. She and Godzilla had conceived a baby, but Shezilla was too sick to survive having it.

Godzilla takes her body to Challenger Deep because he doesn’t want predators to eat her. It’s a massive scientific loss, but there was no way to tend to her body with him hovering around.

He still thinks she will wake up because his heart stops and starts a lot due to his heart defect, and he doesn’t realize it’s an abnormality. Over the next month he tries feeding Shezilla from his own radioactive stores. Shezilla has what is essentially a coffin birth since Godzilla’s radiation was feeding the embryo instead of Shezilla. But the egg can’t survive the intense pressures and it is crushed instantly. Godzilla is totally crestfallen. He nuzzles Shezilla’s nose and the flesh sloughs off. She is decomposing.

Now Godzilla accepts that his mate and their baby are gone to the Stars. He leaves the seafloor in a state of mourning.

The Shrinking Project happens that same day. The man behind it has a vendetta against Gojira, so he’s taking it out on Godzilla.

Shezilla’s spirit possesses Miki Saegusa and tells her Godzilla must live. He has work to do. It takes time for her and Miki to understand each other, but once they do they work together to ensure Godzilla stays alive.

The same group of people behind the Shezilla project rescue Godzilla from the nasty person who only wants to torture him.

Godzilla isn’t doing well while tiny. He begins showing all the signs of acute heart failure. The Shezilla team figures out how to keep him alive by doing something dangerous and unprecedented. They patch the hole in his heart and ablate the underdeveloped nerve bundles that cause his arrhythmias, and he slowly returns to his normal size in short bursts after the shrink ray wears off. A confrontation between him and the nasty vendetta guy happens while he’s man-sized, and it doesn’t go well for vendetta guy.

Shezilla’s spirit can finally rest, so she departs into eternity after a moving goodbye to her mate.

History carries on through BabyGodzilla being found, Mechagodzilla, Fire Rodan, SpaceGodzilla and Destroyah.

BabyGodzilla grows up into LittleGodzilla and then Junior. Godzilla raises the little one as his own. He tells him all the stories his own father told him and imparts the knowledge of his kind’s history. Everything Gojira told Godzilla becomes known to Junior.

After battling Destroyah, Godzilla dies of a nuclear meltdown and his soul ascends to the Stars where Shezilla and a daughter are waiting. All that is left of his physical presence is a lump of corium.

Junior finishes his mutation into an adult godzillasaur thanks to the immense radiation of Godzilla’s meltdown. He takes the corium out to sea and lays it in next to Shezilla’s skeleton in Challenger Deep and grieves over them both for a long while.

Then he has to feed again, so he ascends to the surface and takes down an aircraft carrier transporting nukes. From that day on, Junior carries the legacy of Gojira alone.

🌀🌀🌀🌀

BRANCH 2– ‘Survival’ timeline: Shezilla gets very weak and sick because of an underdeveloped nuclear gland, but Godzilla is able to feed her massive, concentrated doses of radiation that allow the gland to achieve critical mass and keep her alive.

A small island becomes a dumping ground for radioactive waste, so the Godzilla family is more apt to go there. Their rampages into cities become extremely rare. Humanity is slowly learning to coexist with kaiju.

MechaGodzilla isn’t necessary and is never built. The metal from Mecha-King Ghidorah is used instead to reverse engineer its technology into things like quantum computers, medical devices, vehicles for space travel and safer nuclear power plants. The Shrinking Project doesn’t happen either because the tech is kept under lock and key and only a few people know where.

Shezilla nests and lays an egg. She and Godzilla are awakened a while later by the sound of cracking. The egg hatches.

It’s a girl with brown eyes. A kaijuologist who speaks Latin nicknames her Filia, which is Latin for daughter.

Junior’s egg is discovered while Rodan is away, so he is taken into human custody without incident. He hatches under Azusa Gojo’s watch and will grow up into a typical unmutated godzillasaur in a safe enclosure.

SpaceGodzilla happens in (movie time) 1995. He tangles with Rodan in the upper atmosphere and sends him crashing into Pripyat, Ukraine. His body falls into the Chernobyl power plant. He appears dead. Nobody will move him until because he is laying on the damage he caused and preventing radiation from leaking out.

When SpaceGodzilla lands, it’s Filia who curiously wanders over to check him out. She gets kidnapped and imprisoned in a crystal cage. Shezilla confronts SpaceGodzilla after hearing her daughter scream for help, and he utterly insults her mate by insisting he would be a better one. She gets enraged and fights him, but he overpowers her and leaves her seriously injured. Godzilla comes ashore after hearing Shezilla’s distress calls. Unfortunately, SpaceGodzilla is already gone. Godzilla. Is. Pissed. Off.

Shezilla recovers quickly. She and Godzilla both go on a rampage towards SpaceGodzilla. It’s a violent, bloody, nasty battle. SpaceGodzilla propositions Shezilla again. This time she says yes, and she seduces him as a trick. She gets SpaceGodzilla all the way to the point of climbing on top of her…and that’s when Godzilla knocks down the tower SpaceGodzilla is using as a power source. Shezilla flashes a grin at SpaceGodzilla and point blank trashes his shoulder crystals with her atomic breath. She kicks him off her, and her and Godzilla both kill him with their atomic breath. Filia is set free and all is well.

In 1996, reports indicate the radioactivity caused by Chernobyl has dropped to safe levels, safe enough that people can move back in.

Then a fireball is tracked over Hong Kong. It’s Fire Rodan, and he is burning up from too much nuclear energy. He decimates large parts of Hong Kong with his radioactivity and the sonic booms of flying by. At the same time, Destroyah is emerging from the water in Japan and causing havoc.

Filia, now the godzillasaur equivalent of a preteen, is awakened from her sleep by a telepathic call from Miki Saegusa and another girl, Meru. They lure her in to fight Destroyah. She’s up for the challenge.

Along the way, she meets Rodan, who mistakes her as the baby taken from his island a few years ago. She has no idea what he’s talking about and figures the runaway radiation is scrambling his brain. She tells him to hang back and off she goes to take on Destroyah.

Then her parents awaken to find her gone and set out in search of her. They end up tangling with Rodan, demanding to know what he did with their daughter. Rodan leads them to where Filia and Destroyah are duking it out at Haneda airport. Seeing her parents arrive distracts her just long enough for Destroyah to stab her in the chest and inject micro-oxygen directly into her nuclear gland. Destroyah throws Filia at her parents.

Filia is mortally wounded. Godzilla tries to feed her from his own radioactivity, but it doesn’t work. She’s too young and injured.

Shezilla goes berserk when she sees her daughter hurt like that. She charges Destroyah while Godzilla tries to save Filia. Rodan rages as well even though the exertion is raising his temperature to dangerous levels. He helps Shezilla battle Destroyah.

Filia apologizes to her dad for running off and stops breathing before he can tell her it’s okay. Godzilla screams when his little girl dies. He charges into the fray with tears pouring down his face and tells Destroyah he is going to wipe him off the earth.

Destroyah manages to cleave Rodan’s chest open with his horn. Now mortally wounded himself, Rodan glides towards Filia’s body and lands on top of her. He doesn’t realize she is dead and vows to guard her. His melting body pumps a massive dose of radiation into Filia’s corpse. She starts to breathe again and opens her eyes as the flesh melts off Rodan’s face. All that is left of him is his skeleton and a cloud of radioactive ash.

Destroyah is about to overpower Godzilla and Shezilla when the radioactive ash cloud surrounds them all. The radiation seeps into Godzilla and Shezilla, filling them with power.

A spiraling red atomic beam blasts in from one side. It’s Filia. Godzilla and Shezilla turn to Destroyah, who is now triangulated between an angry godzillasaur family. All 3 unleash simultaneous spiral red beams and Destroyah is reduced to nothing.

Godzilla and Shezilla are all over Filia, loving on her and crying when asking what happened. Filia answers that Rodan saved her and turns to indicate his empty skeleton. They all share a moment of silence for their unwitting fallen ally and return to the sea, leaving Tokyo to clean up the mess.

Things are uneventfully quiet. Filia grows up into a lovely adult godzillasaur. She separates from her parents by creating a den on the north side of the island. (Her parents are on the east side).

EarthCam sets up a few webcams on the island, playfully named Monster Island, in 2009. People all over the internet can log on and see the Godzilla family go about their lives.

The peaceful times break in 2011, when a massive 9.0 earthquake strikes Japan. A tsunami follows, and the destruction and fires are more massive than anything Godzilla or his family could do in that short period of time.

The earthquake damages an enclosure where the only living dinosaur, Junior, is kept. The enclosure is large and as close as possible to his natural habitat. Azusa Gojo is dragged kicking and screaming to evacuate before the tsunami arrives. When it does, it destroys the rest of the enclosure and the dinosaur stumbles free. He’s at home with the water and staggers towards the glow of a towering fire.

It’s Fukushima, and the reactors have melted down.

Junior gets hungry. He eats plants and fish around the burning nuclear power plant. He is exposed externally and internally to the radioactivity leaking out into the air, water and soil. His presence prevents helicopters from stopping a massive explosion of radioactive steam. Junior is right in the middle of it. His outer scales are burned off. Now in pain, he staggers away and falls unconscious into the receding tsunami waves. Humanity loses sight of him and assumes he perished.

Azusa tries to pull resources to search for Junior, but all efforts are focused on recovering from the disaster. She agrees despite how it hurts and accepts that the dinosaur she raised by hand is gone from her. Miki Saegusa senses what is going on. She keeps it to herself because humanity has meddled enough with the monsters and she wants them to live in peace. She focuses her powers on detecting and locating anyone missing after the disaster.

Weeks go by. Junior awakens to somebody nudging his shoulder. He is no longer a dinosaur.

The mutation manifests differently on him because of the chemicals he ingested and came in contact with. (MIREGOJI!!!) His greenish-gray pitted skin and spiky dorsal spines are quite a sight, but it’s not his reflection in the water that he’s looking at.

The first thing Junior sees is a beautiful girl with brown eyes. Filia smiles and asks him if he’s okay. It’s love at first sight.

Ancient godzillasaurs has a tradition when it came to potential mates. Her dad told her all about it and she wants to uphold it, so she takes Junior to meet her parents.

Junior meets Shezilla first. He’s nervous and charming. She likes him immediately! Then Godzilla comes out to have a look. He’s huge and imposing even though his movements are jerky and stiff.

The moment they lock eyes is a tense one.

Godzilla asks Junior if he promises to treat his daughter’s heart like the treasure that it is. Junior swears on his life that he will. Godzilla tells Junior he better be impressive when he makes his move. Again, Junior swears that he will.

Godzilla nods his approval. He takes Junior’s hand, he takes Filia’s hand and clasps them together. Filia grins up at her dad. He tells her he’s happy for her. Then Godzilla and Shezilla stand together, watching their daughter and her future mate walk off.

Junior tells Filia his story of where he was all this time, and he mentions relating to how Shezilla feels like a young outsider. Filia says not to worry about it. Her dad didn’t worry about her mom’s mysteriously absent past, so she decided not worry so much about Junior’s.

Junior asks Filia to tell her story. She does. It’s a long tale stretching back millions of years. The sun goes down and the Milky Way is bright in the night sky. Junior is falling into her eyes. Filia is falling into his. He makes his move. Filia consents. They conceive.

Junior can’t stop thinking about the humans who took care of him and doesn’t know what happened to them after the ground shook. He slips away in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t recognize the disaster-ridden coastline when he arrives. He has a soft spot for humans because they were kind to him, so he locates a bunch of people swept away by the tsunami. Living and dead alike are gathered and placed on dry land where rescuers can reach them.

Junior finds Azusa on a balcony far inland. She recognizes him despite his mutated appearance, but she doesn’t understand his roar is telling her that he’s fine and about to be a dad. She cries instead, so he leaves and that is the last time they see each other.

A year later, Filia and Junior crouch by their nest and watch their egg hatch. It’s a boy with heterochromia. One eye is yellow, the other is brown. He has Junior’s facial features and Filia’s elegant long tail. He’s smaller than Filia was when she hatched. Kaijuologists nickname him Kage(kah-geh), which is Japanese for shadow, because his hide is black like one.

Kage falls out of his eggshell in a curled up position. It takes him a few days to walk and his hands are tight fists. The way he moves reminds Filia of her dad. And she is right, he inherited Godzilla’s heart issues and the subsequent neurological issues.

Kage is a grumpy little baby at first because he hatched in the winter and it’s cold. His parents keep him warm in their cave for the first few days until he’s able to shuffle around. His legs are much more affected than Godzilla’s, but he can walk if he goes slow and he’ll get a little better at it with time. He falls over a lot because he’s pigeon toed.

Filia and Junior are overwhelmed with joy because their baby didn’t keel over dead like they feared he might. They take Kage to meet his grandparents. Shezilla dotes on him immediately, and Godzilla is totally amazed to see another godzillasaur who Moves Like Him. He looks down at the baby godzillasaur and sees both his mother and father looking back at him through his grandson’s eyes.

Kage squawks a challenge because he can’t roar yet. Godzilla belly laughs as he comes to understand what his own father saw in him when he was little. Then he gets a goofy grin on his face because teaching Kage all the tricks to managing his Palsy will be so much fun! Kage will grow up surrounded by a loving family with a legacy as old as the sky.

Disability headcanon for Godzilla and other stuff...

(The disability stuff pissed people off. SEETHE MORE...)

Godzilla’s heart!

If you managed to get a drone into Godzilla’s body and passed it into his heart, you would find the septum stops about 2/3 of the way down. The hole looks almost like a nostril, and right smack in the middle of it are the two nerves of his heart’s conduction system– much like the bundle of His in humans. The same genetic quirk gave him a quadricuspid aortic valve (he has 2 aortas and a foramen of panizza like a croc), but that doesn’t affect him at all, it just looks cool.

He has a conduction system almost like a human’s as a result of his mutation, but it added two extra malformed bundle branches that shouldn’t be there. The extra bundle branches are usually overridden by the main set. Pre-mutation, his heart muscle developed itself to contract harder on systole, which pulls the apex (pointy end) up and almost closes off the hole. It continued to do this after his mutation.

Chaos happens when his heart beats really fast and the signals start jumping to the extra bundle branches. A sustained fast heartbeat turns into v-tach. His heart muscle doesn’t contract as efficiently when it’s flailing around at high speed, so the shunt isn’t pinched off as much and his myocardium is the first thing that feels the “burn” of less oxygen. (Which is why he gets chest pains, Pangs in his narrations.)

Sometimes, (but not always) the v-tach turns into v-fib and it’s a mess. He gets the head rush feeling and won’t pass out if the v-fib only lasts 1 to 2 seconds, but he goes down if it lasts any more than 5.

His nuclear gland acts like a defibrillator that stops his heart (asystole) and the electrical system resets itself back to normal sinus rhythm. Someone running an EKG would see the shock, the pause and return to normal sinus on the tracing. You can’t tell it’s happening from the outside– his body doesn’t convulse– all an outsider sees is he falls, he stops breathing (or has agonal respirations / guppy breathing), he starts breathing again and groggily gets back up. If he’s underwater, he appears to go to sleep for a few seconds and wakes back up.

The only time human eyes witnessed Godzilla going down in full arrest was in 1984, when the cadmium triggered an arrhythmia and stopped his nuclear gland from delivering the little shocks that usually set things straight. The people didn’t know that happened because nobody was monitoring his heartbeat. He might have stayed down if not for the nuke in the atmosphere recharging him.

Godzilla can and has “died” many times, but his radioactive regenerative abilities replenish the failing cells. He can go days to weeks without a heartbeat or oxygen and still come back to life with a hefty dose of radiation supercharging his cells.

His nuclear gland is a huge, white lobular organ taking up all the space between his thoracic internal organs. His heart is sort of “shrink wrapped” to his nuclear gland like a stuffed animal inside a colorful Easter basket.

Somebody taking an echocardiogram or MRI of his chest will initially misinterpret the image as a pericardial effusion or cardiac tamponade. Actually, it’s salt water and it acts like heavy water. He’ll take gulps of seawater from time to time and that’s where it goes. His heartbeat circulates this fluid through his nuclear gland while also pumping blood through his body. The pressure of this pericardial fluid rises or lowers depending on how deep he dives into the ocean, and it keeps his heart pumping efficiently when his rhythm isn’t thrown out of whack.

Here’s one more bizarre aspect of his biology: His heart sits low in his chest like a bird’s due to how his mutation affected his organs. The apex is actually below his sternum, and his whole heart is pushed down out of his ribcage if he bends backwards (which he can’t really do on his own.)

You may think that makes it more vulnerable, but actually no. :P

Godzilla has a tough, hard to penetrate exterior and really thick skeletal muscles because his internal organs are super fragile and easy to injure. It takes a lot of penetrative force to do his organs any harm. External blows won’t hurt his insides because his muscles and bones absorb and distribute the impacts around his surface. The only way to successfully inflict internal blunt force injuries is to drop him onto hard ground from the uppermost atmosphere, and good luck managing that unless you’re really powerful...or something.

By all accounts he should not be alive at all. He was already dying as a normal godzillasaur, and the mutation forced his body to adapt for survival. His lungs are huge to maximize gas exchange in the air, and basically all the tissue under the hide on the front of his neck is lamellae that he can expose or cover as needed. He “holds his breath” to dive initially, exhales underwater and that triggers the folds in his neck to part and expose his gills. Another reflex closes them off completely when he surfaces.

He is able to take the oxygen from the water and divert the carbon dioxide into his lungs as gas, which lets him roar or use his beam underwater. (Lung breath provides the force to start the beam, stomach gas sustains it! :D)

He can technically “drown” if he inhales water, however his body has ways of preventing that. You would have to cut certain nerves in his neck and, again, good luck achieving that.

Godzilla’s brain!

If you want to get technical about it, Godzilla has an ABI (acquired brain injury) caused by hypoxia.

In humans ABIs are brain injuries that happen after birth. A TBI(traumatic brain injury) is considered an ABI too, but not all ABIs are TBIs. If you hit your head and it damaged your brain, that’s a TBI, which is an ABI. If you didn’t breathe properly after you were born and it damaged your brain, that’s just an ABI. Cerebral palsy is an ABI. A blow to the head that causes bleeding in the brain is an ABI that’s also a TBI. See how it works?

For Godzilla, “birth” is a muddy subject. He hatched from an egg, so the rules are a tiny bit different. Godzilla (as a typical pre-mutation godzillasaur) formed normally in the yolk of his egg with the exception of the ventricular septal defect in his heart.

The VSD didn’t pose much problem in the beginning when he was just a little blob. Issues arose as body finished developing and the fine tuning began. He needed more and more oxygen, which his heart couldn’t supply properly, and both his cranial and spinal brains were damaged as a result.

The motor areas in his spinal brain took the hit first, which affected his legs and tail. Then it happened in his cranial brain, which affected his upper body. Someone “candling” his egg would’ve noticed he moved less and less as his muscles tightened up.

Certain areas in his cranial brain failed to mature and migrate properly. The areas responsible for cognition got hit the hardest by that, which would lead to him having an unnatural fear response cycle (not enough emotional area connections to his tiny amygdala-equivalent), trouble with perception / spacial awareness and difficulty processing information. The areas of his brain that didn’t form properly linked up in a new way, and that led to his unusual hyperthymestic memory. It literally looks like a bridge of neurons across the bottom of his brain and functions like a human hippocampus.

Guess what’s parked on top of that? His dinky bundle of amygdala-equivalent neurons. There’s only 1 bundle, whereas humans have 2. Those neurons aren’t connected with the rest of his brain, but they do connect to his brain stem, so they work a bit like 2 cords side by side that plug into the same wall outlet. The outlet is his brain stem. It’s why stimuli trigger physiological changes associated with fear, but not the emotion itself. So young Godzilla lacked the instinct to flee any danger, but felt his heart speed up, felt his breathing get faster and became more alert. Then he got angry because he was annoyed by the sudden bump of alertness.

Godzillasaurs don’t have a cerebral cortex as we know it. Still, their brains are arranged with bundles of neurons that function with similar complexity to more evolved animals. Maybe, if they had survived to evolve like the apes did, they might have come close to or matched humans in terms of intelligence.

Post-mutation, Godzilla’s cranial brain seems small and simple at a glance (It’s about the size of a classic Volkswagen van), but someone weighing it would be surprised by its mass. He developed a neocortex with shallow gyri and sulci that function similarly to human frontal, temporal, occipital and parietal lobes. It’s because of this that he’s capable of “higher thought” beyond what he could do as an unmutated godzillasaur, such as thinking about the future and being able to “question” things. (His equivalent of going “wait, is it a good idea to do that?” Usually he does whatever *that* is anyway…but the ability to wonder if he should is one he didn't have before! So when he looks back in his memory he asks himself questions he would’ve asked at those times if he could.)

Now, remember his dinky bundle of amygdala-equivalent neurons? They branched out to connect with his hippocampus-equivalent and it’s why trauma triggers an emotional fear response instead of just the physiological part, but other stimuli only set off the physiological response.

Godzilla grew a very primitive limbic system. It’s because of this that he connects more deeply to an emotional range he wasn’t wholly capable of pre-mutation. Part of that was his ABI, so the mutation helped connect areas in his brain that weren’t connected before.

These brain changes happened rapidly over a span of days, hence the temporary deafness and blindness Godzilla struggled through as his body changed. The tonic-clonic and myoclonic seizures he endured came from the already-damaged areas of his brain migrating (which irritated surrounding tissues) and new neurons growing so fast they sheared themselves apart.

The seizures both intensified his hyperthymestic memory and exacerbated the ABI-related cognitive issues he already has. His “hippocampus” bridge was encoded with all this trauma between seizures, which allowed it to connect with the emotional areas of his brain to create the circuit where trauma leads to a proper fear response. He hasn’t had a seizure since his mutation completed, but his bouts of clonus (shaking / twitching) and full body spasms (random tensing up) can look like one. He has more all-over spasms when he’s fatigued, the clonus just happens randomly.

Godzilla’s intelligence is average for his species, but the issues caused by his ABI post-mutation mask it. He would have a pretty serious case of dyscalculia, no sense of direction and a complete inability to read maps or numbers if he was human. The only reason he has any sense of direction is because he uses his hyperthymestic memory, the horizons and Earth’s magnetic fields to navigate his old migration routes by feel. A strong magnetic pull can throw him way off course. He can recall sequences of actions perfectly because his autobiographical memory is always recording things, and the right stimuli make him recall it.

And those weird extraordinary abilities mask his struggles. If he was human he would get misdiagnosed as intellectually disabled due to presenting in such an unusual way. He’s cognitively disabled.

Kaijuologists miss the cognitive issues because Godzilla doesn’t live in a world where his cognitive struggles interfere as much. He doesn’t speak our words or think like us, so it’s hard to tell a species thing, apart from his personality, instincts and a cognition issue. Testing him and Shezilla together would make his issues and their personalities glaringly obvious. (Godzilla tends to be blunt and brusque, Shezilla is inquisitive and analytical.)

Godzilla gets stuck mentally, but to an observing human it looks like he is suddenly angry for no reason because he gets a specific expression on his face when it happens. It’s a sneer coupled with a frowning, wide-eyed thousand yard stare that could peel the paint right off a car.

This “stuck” condition has to do with how he processes information, his spacial awareness, the environment not matching up to what he thinks should be there and his inability to suss out what’s different or why it’s different.

Example 1: (With family)

There’s a boulder formation on the island he, Shezilla and Filia call home. He looks at it a lot. One day he leaves to feed on something radioactive.

Filia starts playing around on the boulders and accidentally knocks one of them behind a bigger one, so it’s no longer visible. She runs off to do something else.

Godzilla comes back, looks at the boulder formation and sees something is different. But he can’t figure out what that difference is, even as he stares at the gap where the missing boulder should be. He remembers it was there, but his mind doesn’t click in with what happened. That’s a spacial awareness issue tangling up with his memory.

He gets really mad because he knows something is wrong and can’t figure out what it is!

Shezilla goes up to Godzilla and tells him what’s wrong because she knows that frown with wide open eyes means the gears in his head are stuck. Telling him what’s wrong gets him unstuck before he flies into a rage. The temper tantrum is disarmed.

Nobody has to put the rock back because that’s not the problem. Godzilla’s brain is a bit like HTML text page where the missing boulder is somebody forgot to close a <b> tag in the title, so the whole page ends up with bold text. All Shezilla does by telling him it was moved is give him the </b> tag. Now he can understand what’s different and why.

Putting the boulder back will also get him unstuck since it “fixes” the “broken picture” he’s stuck trying to process. It doesn’t matter if it’s upside down or facing a different directly entirely, it just has to be there.

He wouldn’t have had the problem if all the boulders got moved, because then the whole picture is changed instead of just a small part. Big changes make him go “wow, wtf?”, but smaller ones cause him to get stuck.

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Example 2: (Alone)

Being hyperthymestic causes Godzilla to get lost in his memory a lot. It’s not quite maladaptive daydreaming because he’s mentally going over another part of his life.

He goes foraging in Tokyo, but his mind is traveling millions of years ago to when he walked among trees many times taller than him. He loses track of what’s real and what’s recollection. His mind’s eye sees trees, not buildings.

Then a maser cannon zaps him in the chest, abruptly yanking him to the present. He sees the buildings instead of the trees. He doesn’t know where the trees went, so he knocks a building down thinking the forest is right behind it. And it isn’t.

Now there’s a bunch of maser tanks, missiles, artillery, etc slamming into Godzilla. It’s a bombardment of bright lights, smoke / gunpowder smells and loud noise while he’s already confused about where he is in time, so on top of being confused he’s now in sensory overload too.

He gets pissed off because he can’t find the forest he remembers and he can’t think his way through what is past and what is now with all the chaos being thrown at him. The tantrum* kicks in. He smashes everything in sight, screams at the JSDF that he’s lost and destroys more of the city out of spite because nobody is there to tell him the forest he’s looking for is long gone. He thinks it’s hidden in or behind the big buildings, and no it doesn’t occur to him that a whole forest can’t fit inside / behind a building that’s as tall as he is. That’s a hint of the spacial awareness issue.

So he smashes buildings and there is no forest. It takes a lot of smashing and stomping for him to realize there isn’t a forest hidden in the city.

The tantrum cools his rage enough to think clearly again, but it’s mentally and emotionally exhausting. Giving up isn’t something Godzilla likes to do. In this case, he has to, because all the activity has his heartrate up and his chest hurts. That’s always his warning sign to chill out.

Godzilla takes out a nuclear reactor, feeds and leaves. He’s irritable and sore as he swims away. He gets home to his island, which has a beautiful forest. The environment matches his memory again, so he calms down and goes to sleep.

* It’s not like an autistic meltdown at all. Godzilla doesn’t have control of whether or not he has a tantrum once his temper explodes, but he can choose how he responds to it. He chooses to yell, smash stuff and make a mess. Sensory overload is painful, confusing and annoying to him, but sensory overload alone won’t make him lose control of himself. He just smashes everything around him until he stops whatever’s causing it.

If Shezilla is in the city with Godzilla, she can calm him down and lead him away without as much destruction. No matter how mad he gets Godzilla will never purposely try to injure his own family members, and Shezilla knows this. She knows how to talk to him and help him get in line with the present. (And by ‘talk’ I mean communicating in Old Tongue. :P)

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Example 3: (Alone)

I’m gonna borrow from my Shrinking Project fanfic to say it’s possible to make Godzilla shut down mentally and emotionally by taking him through a lot of rapid changes in a short period of time. This is the worst way he gets stuck mentally and it’s the hardest for him to deal with.

So tiny!Godzilla is plucked up out of the ocean after being hit by the shrink ray. He wakes up on a lab table to giant humans staring down at him. Goro, the aggressive one, throws his arms up in an attempt to intimidate. Godzilla reacts to that by getting pissed off and asking the guy what he thinks he’s doing.

Goro keeps escalating Godzilla, and then Reiko suddenly comes over with a tank of gas that knocks him out. Godzilla wakes up in an enclosure that’s all plain surfaces. It’s unfamiliar and strange.

A lot of things happen between that enclosure and the main laboratory. Then Reiko smuggles Godzilla out, so he ends up in a dark shoebox. Dark is scary to him, so he scrapes holes in the box to get some light. He goes from the shoebox to Reiko’s bathtub.

The environment never stays stable. He’s always finding himself somewhere completely new with new information to process. It’s stressful. He gets exhausted.

So Godzilla lays down wherever he is and turns inward. No matter where he is, he will slip into a deep sleep because he no longer has the capacity to deal with what’s going on.

If he’s allowed to sleep it off, he’ll be fine when he wakes up because sleep is how he rests his brain. If he’s awakened and disturbed, he is sluggish and depressed due to his ability to think / process information being greatly diminished.

Now, Godzilla won’t be processing much if he’s chasing an enemy through various environments or seeking sustenance. Giving him a goal gives him something concrete to focus on. But if there’s no goal and several rapid changes happen quickly, it’s like ripping apart a puzzle he’s trying to finish and making him start over. Eventually, he’ll flip the table and refuse to start over again, and that is his brain shutting down.

The best thing anyone can do, whether it’s humans or Shezilla, is to leave him alone when he curls up on the ground. He needs that shutdown sleep. If something like that happened around Shezilla in an inopportune place, she would tell Godzilla this isn’t the best place to sleep and take him somewhere better. If it’s humans handling a tiny!Godzilla, putting him somewhere quiet and dark and not disturbing him at all is the best way to help him recover.

This situation is the kind of stuck where only time will get him unstuck.

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Godzilla can eventually solve most problems on his own. If it’s not a life or death situation he’ll let it go once he’s done being pissed off about being stuck on it.

In Godzilla vs MechaGodzilla II he gets mad because he can’t find Baby. He throws a tantrum and trashes part of the city before he leaves. Later, he decides that if he smashes MechaGodzilla, he’ll be able to get to Baby. And that’s what happened. Humans would say that’s not correct, that MechaGodzilla wasn’t holding Baby prisoner, but Godzilla saw MechaGodzilla as a metal abomination getting between him and another of his kind. He removed the obstacle and Miki Saegusa led him to Baby.

SpaceGodzilla imprisoned LittleGodzilla, so Godzilla smashes through a city in a rage to reach SpaceGodzilla. He figured out that SpaceGodzilla was using a tower as an energy source like he uses radiation, so he destroyed the tower. Killing SpaceGodzilla nullified his crystals, which set LittleGodzilla free.

Godzilla’s problem solving is slow and depends on the situation, but 99% of the time he eventually gets his brain unstuck. Sometimes he thinks fast and comes up with a solution right away, sometimes he doesn’t.

That doesn’t mean he’s totally unable to get himself unstuck or solve a problem, it’s just easier if someone is there to help him get unstuck. It saves him the grief of being confused for however long it takes before he figures the issue out or lets a minor thing go.

Godzilla’s motor issues

I ran with Godzilla’s neurological movement issues by taking the stiffness of the Godzilla suits or the quirks of animatronics as aspects of his character.

It would be technically incorrect to say he has cerebral palsy because he doesn’t have a cerebral cortex as we know it (in his skull brain or his spinal brain!), but the chronic hypoxia in early life affected his muscles and movements in a manner much like spastic cerebral palsy in humans. The son of my kaijuologist character in my WIP Shrinking Project fic mentions knowing somebody with CP, so that’s sort of how I let the audience in on the similarity. Godzilla refers to it as his Palsy and that’s how it goes.

He’s very hypertonic, his range of motion is limited and he can have some brutally painful muscle spasms. He wakes up very stiff and sore most of the time, though it’s worse if he slept for long periods without moving in between, and he will stretch and move until he loosens up to his version of normal.

Godzilla has opposable thumbs and has enough dexterity to unscrew things and use a pinch grip, however it’s a lot of work to make his hands do fine motor tasks. His hands “like” to be in fists or cupped, and it’s a conscious effort on his part to splay his fingers.

He gets clonus in some circumstances, usually when he’s stiff after a long sleep. It happens slow enough to look like a twitchy voluntary movement due to his massive size. It’s more obvious when he’s tiny. He just sort of ignores it unless it hurts, then he might turn his head and growl at the offending muscle group.

The spinal brain was affected by the hypoxia, too. It helps control the lower half of his body, and having it is the reason he can walk at all. He walks with a stiff gait because he leans on his tail like a cane or crutch. He likes to be sure his feet are solidly connected to the ground when he steps. He isn’t able to run or leap because he doesn’t have the gross motor coordination to pull it off without falling on his face. He can, however, hop or bounce. Neither of those actions are energy efficient, so he tends to reserve those to express excitement or happiness. Sometimes hopping and flailing his arms happen due to an exaggerated startle reflex or as an involuntary whole body spasm in response to pain.

The secret to Godzilla’s ridiculous physical strength is that he uses his spasticity the way an archer uses a bow and arrow. He lets the resistance in his muscles build and BAM releases it so his muscles snap into the positions they ‘want’ to be in. This works for throwing things, it goes for punches, kicks, tail smacks and his famous shoulder ram.

The same stiff muscles that make him so clumsy on land make him an excellent swimmer underwater. He likes being in the water because his body listens to him more there than on land. That’s because his tail is pretty much under his full control and that’s what he uses to swim, so in the water he can go exactly where he wants when he wants.

And finally, his skeleton is basically one giant internal orthotic device. His big, buff muscles don’t deform his skeleton because his skeleton is “telling” his muscles to stay in the right places. Sometimes he will tear muscles, ligaments or tendons, but his mutated regenerative abilities repair the damage in minutes to hours. He may temporarily lose the use of a muscle group until the damage heals.

Godzilla is somewhat aware that he is disabled; he recognizes that it’s hard to move and get his body to obey his brain. He doesn’t really see his limited range of motion as abnormal. In his mind, everybody is different and it’s what makes him different.

Before his mutation, back when he was an itty bitty baby godzillasaur, his parents used their teeth to gently tug his tail, arms and legs into their proper positions and taught him how to walk and use his hands. They didn’t leave him to die because he was their only surviving egg and they wanted to give him a chance at life. After his mom died, his dad took over in keeping him out of trouble and out of the jaws of predators. Young Godzilla learned all the stretch moves he does after waking up from his dad, and he still does them millions of years later! :)

Adapting is something he had to do all his life, so he’ll find ways to accomplish a goal he’s set his mind to. If he has to go 100 miles out of his way to get around a mountain he can’t climb, he’s going to walk those 100 miles. The cognitive issues will delay him because he’ll try to scramble up the mountain and fall a bunch of times before he changes his approach.

Buuuut if somebody makes Godzilla angry enough to go around a mountain to have a “friendly chat” with them, they are going to have a bad day when he gets there.

Godzilla’s hyperthymesia

Godzilla is hyperthemestic, which basically means he has an extreme autobiographical memory. It goes back further than hyperthymestic humans because he can remember all the way back to the day he hatched from his egg.

It is a cool ability; he remembers every step he has taken in his life. He remembers every meal he ate, what the weather was while he ate it, who was with him, where he was and whether or not he liked what he ate. If he could talk and understand the concepts of dates, months, years and clock times, he would be able to tell you what day of the week any calendar date will fall on in any given year. If he could read, he would have entire books memorized.

He remembers old migration routes and territories in relation to Earth’s magnetic fields, so he will patrol them by “feel” even though Earth’s magnetic fields have shifted over time. This can lead to him traversing into populated areas or wandering seemingly nowhere. His travels have a purpose that are driven partly by instinct and partly by the desire to find the world he knew before the Fireball killed everything.

The downside is the stream of memories tend to intrude on his everyday life. He may appear to be doing nothing when he stares off into space, but he is actually daydreaming his way through a memory from a few minutes ago or millions of years ago. There are some memories he doesn’t enjoy reliving, but they loop up. It’s not uncommon for a modern day experience to trigger one, but they can bubble up on their own.

A sufficient distraction usually breaks him out of this, such as a fight or painful stimuli. Sometimes he causes himself pain on purpose to get out of a memory he doesn’t want to relive. He does it by throwing his head forward to trigger his most painful back spasms. It looks like an aggressive mood, or like he’s screaming at nothing.

He is always comparing modern day to the world he knew before the asteroid that ended the dinosaurs (Fireball). Sometimes he will wander into a city while deep in a recollection and only realize it’s not the forests he grew up in when the tanks start shooting.

As you can imagine, it gets frustrating for him. One moment he swears he is lying safe between his parents or wrestling with Shezilla, and in the next he gets a face full of missiles.

His cognitive issues sometimes cause him to get confused between reality and memory. He’ll freak out thinking the modern time is the memory and not know why the forests he’s familiar with aren’t reappearing. He sorts himself out eventually, but it’s an emotionally painful sorting because he misses the world that made sense to him. Our world is too chaotic and strange.

The only human capable of understanding how Godzilla’s memory works is Miki Saegusa, the psychic who knows how to read his mind and make sense of his thoughts. He talks to Miki a lot through his memories and he has been telling her his life story in piecemeal bits for years.

She senses his location because he tugs on her mind and broadcasts where he is by how ‘loud’ his memories are. Human minds are like candles and Godzilla’s is a bonfire. He is easy to sense because his light and heat drown everything else out.

Miki can pick Godzilla up from across the globe if he decides to broadcast because his mind is so strong. It took her awhile to get used to that tugging feeling, but it stopped scaring her a long time ago.

Mutating was traumatic to Godzilla and it changed how his disability affects him.

Godzilla’s mutation actually gave him mobility he didn’t have before. Pre-mutation, his arms were almost useless by early adulthood due to contractures despite his dad’s best efforts to help him exercise them.

Clenching one’s fists tight takes effort, right? Clenched fists are Godzilla’s default. He uses that same clenching effort to open his fingers. They never really relax. His parents (when both were alive) taught him to keep his hands open and wiggle his fingers every now and then so they don’t get stuck as clenched fists. It became a habit, so he does it more or less without thinking even after his mutation.

The same effort didn’t transfer to his arms, unfortunately. They were curling up tighter and atrophying from contractures as he aged, but the mutation process changed that. His hands still really, really, really ‘want’ to be in fists all the time.

Post-mutation Godzilla has pretty decent hand dexterity and opposable thumbs. It’s easier for him to grasp things than it is to let go of them. Few realize the focused effort he puts into using his hands because he makes moving them look easy. It’s not. There is no incidence of moving his body that’s easy for him, but he doesn’t see it as effort because it’s his normal.

The mutation from a godzillasaur into Godzilla pushed his bones and muscles into a new formation, which is why he stands upright instead of tilted forward. Of course, this caused a different setup of mobility issues.

Godzilla was pretty much comatose when the Futurians teleported him somewhere else in time. He regained consciousness when he landed on spent radioactive waste on the seafloor, which caused a bright flash of light. Then he passed out again and finally woke up to the pain of his body mutating.

He felt his internal organs changing. He felt his bones and muscles stretching. His skin / scales literally split like ripped clothes because of his rapid growth and his hide grew back as keloid-like scar tissue, giving it a pitted appearance. His whole surface feels like a big scab and it’s his biggest, most visible scar.

Godzilla spent several days totally deaf and blind because his eyes, ears and brain were the last parts of him to complete the mutation process. He crawled around on the seafloor like Kamata-kun from Shin Godzilla until he realized he could use his arms again.

He had to figure out the tingly feeling in the roof of his mouth meant Sustenance was nearby, and he had to learn he could absorb it by touching it.

He made himself sick eating dirt off the seafloor for awhile because he got hungry while his stomach was still changing. He threw up a lot of blood during that time because he was experiencing radiation poisoning that healed as fast as it harmed due to his mutated healing abilities.

He ran fevers. He couldn’t eat. He had seizures as his neurons multiplied, which damaged his redeveloping brain as much as the chronic hypoxia that affected him in his youth.

The most painful part aside from muscular-skeletal growth was the formation of his nuclear gland that acts like his internal nuclear reactor. It’s actually cancer that his body adapted to keep him alive instead of kill him, and his radioactivity prevents it from metastasizing to kill him the way cancer normally kills. That organ tore a lot of nerves and forced his internal organs to rearrange around it. It leeches nutrients from his body if he doesn’t absorb enough radiation to keep cell division and cell death on an even keel. He can temporarily get around this by eating meat like he used to, such as whales, but it’s not long-term sustainable.

Walking became more difficult. His legs were in a new position and his center of gravity moved to a slightly different place. He never wholly gets used to that, so he loses his balance a lot.

He was still mastering his ability to walk again when he showed up on Japan’s shores in 1984. Sadly, the humans didn’t understand him when he asked if they saw his dad. Instead, he ended up in a volcano. He got a lot of practice walking while stuck in Mt. Mihara, so he was better at it when he emerged from there later.

The mutation process is an extremely traumatic memory for Godzilla, and he remembers every conscious second of it due to his hyperthymestic memory. It’s why being thrust into darkness against his will terrifies him; he thinks any darkness he doesn’t go into himself will hurt.

If you want to see Godzilla freak out into a terrified panic, let him go to sleep somewhere with light and wake him up in pitch darkness. He’ll screech. He’ll vomit due to the psychosomatic association, crap all over himself and flail around, slamming into things he can’t see as he scrambles to find a source of light.

The trauma is so intense to him that he temporarily forgets he can create his own light. He feels phantom pains like the pain he felt when his whole body changed. Then his heartbeat goes wonky, which triggers more pain, which triggers even more freaking out until he loses consciousness or spits out his atomic beam and assures himself that he can still see something.

The tiniest speck of light will turn off the panic reaction in the snap of a finger. He’ll cry when the fear passes.

The worst part is the meddling of the Futurians deprived him of his dad’s comfort during it all. They went through it together on the island before the Futurians got involved. His dad held his hand through the whole thing even though he was in terrible pain himself.

Instead, they got separated. The ‘54 Goji went ashore looking for his missing son and died for his efforts. Godzilla turned up in ‘84 looking for his missing dad and got dropped in a volcano for his efforts.

Godzilla is very aware of what he’s become because of the Change. He relived it all when he saw Shindo’s face inside his own reflection. It’s why he gave that deep, tired, sad sigh.

He knows what he is and that he can’t be what he was.

Old Tongue

Old Tongue is the language of godzillasaurs. They’re born knowing it, it’s instinctual and it’s not a language humans can really learn. It is a combination of vocalizations, facial expressions and gestures.

(Flashing lights warning)

Can we communicate with him in Old Tongue? The short answer is…not very well. We could get very, very, very basic things across, like “I’m not a threat to you”, but a true conversation is impossible because there are nuances we, as humans, can’t replicate.

A lot of nuances are lost to humans because godzillasaurs emit sound frequencies outside our range of hearing. Sometimes Godzilla may not appear to be making sounds when he actually is.

He makes a lot of squeaks, whines, groans and trills that can only be picked up by the right audio equipment.

Godzilla is aware that humans only respond to some of his sounds. He thinks we’re deaf with such a limited hearing range, and he’s also aware that our communication is different from his.

But let’s imagine humans are the same size as Godzilla for a moment and we’re at eye level with him. Can we goof up communication? Yup!

Godzilla isn’t threatened by eye contact like most other animals. If he looks at you, he will look you up and down because he’s paying attention to your whole body.

If he snorts as he’s looking at you, he’s telling you he’s addressing you. If you turn your back to him, he will roar. Turning your back when addressed is rude and vulgar, like a middle finger. Don’t do that!

So you don’t turn away, you tilt your head down instead while still looking at his eyes because you’re unsure. That’s going to make him square up because that is a gesture of distrust. If you bare your teeth, he’s going to charge because you’re signaling that you’re here to fight.

If you walk closer to him while keeping eye contact, he will think you’re looking for sex or a fight. It won’t take him longer than a second to know you’re not looking for sex. If you dare to show your teeth, he’ll smack you off your feet for challenging him.

Maybe you’re eating a snack. Let him sniff it. Godzillasaurs lived in pods like lion prides, whoever had food shared it with everybody else. Greed is rude!

So even if Godzilla won’t like your cookie, he will appreciate that you offered so he could decline.

Your back itches and you can’t reach it. He will come over and scratch it, then offer his back to you. Go on and scratch it! Godzillasaurs groomed parasites off each other, so return the favor. Refusing is mildly rude, it hurts a bit like ignoring someone who opened their arms to hug you.

Can Godzilla learn some of our gestures? Yeah!

He points to things with his snout, but grasps that humans use their hands and fingers.

You’re bobbing your head to some good music? He’s going to copy you because those strange noises are fun.

He will figure out pretty quick that waving is a gesture of greeting and farewell.

Btw a greeting in Old Tongue is a chuffing noise similar to a tiger. This is one instance where you can say “hi” properly by imitating the chuffing sound. It’ll delight him!

All in all, communication with Godzilla would be very basic at best. You can’t take a word in any human language and translate it into Old Tongue.

Old Tongue can be translated into human languages if someone who speaks both can find a way how, but 1) the possibility of a human being Old Tongue capable is almost zero and 2) it’s very imprecise and the translations are more like a description of the meaning behind the communication. So whoever translates it will have to say it in a way that makes sense to whoever they’re translating for.

Trying to copy Old Tongue without knowing what you’re doing is like meowing back at your cat. Godzilla will laugh at you because you’re saying gibberish.

Btw Miki Saegusa recognizes Godzilla speaks a language, but she can’t quite understand it enough to translate it. He knows this so he talks to her through images and emotions.

How Shezilla takes it.

How did Shezilla learn about Godzilla’s disability? She asked him why he didn’t run and jump like her, and he told her about the Palsy. She had no idea what that was, so he showed her.

He tried to jump forward as far as he could and nearly face-planted after a very short hop.

He made a valiant attempt climb the rocky cliffs circling around the center of their island; he showed he couldn’t raise his upper arms higher than his shoulders and didn’t have the motor control to vault himself up onto a chin-high cliff like Shezilla could, but he was able to awkwardly scramble over anything knee-high or lower.

Then he tried to run, made it a few steps and went down face first into the sand as soon as he picked his tail up to remove his ‘crutch’. He happened to crash on the one spot on the beach with slippery rocks where getting up wasn’t easy. That was a pretty bad fall for him.

Shezilla was alarmed, of course, and bent over to make sure he was okay. She licked the tiny drops of blood off the end of his snout because he hit the ground that hard. His dad showed him how to turn sideways when he fell to avoid hitting his nose, but he went straight down anyway to truthfully show her why he didn’t run.

Shezilla realized he couldn’t reach the beautiful tropical rainforest and brilliant blue lake in the middle of their island. She had planned to show it to him. She felt a little sorry for him as she watched him thrash his tail and slip while trying to get back up.

Godzilla paused a moment to rest and straight up asked her if she still wanted him after knowing about his Palsy. The question didn’t come from a place of insecurity or shame, since those sorts of feelings about disability were a thing humans bestowed on each other. He asked out of honesty, because he wasn’t sure if any babies they had would inherit it.

Shezilla’s pity dissolved right there because he showed her exactly who he was in those short few moments and that made her love him more. She laughed, helped him up and told him he had eyes, fingers, toes, teeth and a tail in all the right places, so there wasn’t a problem. That answer showed Godzilla exactly who she was, and that made him love her more.

Shezilla offered to not run or jump around him if seeing her do it reminded him of what he couldn’t do. Godzilla said no, she could run and leap whenever she wanted because he loved watching her be graceful. Doing those things showed off her muscles, and he loved that about her!

But Shezilla wanted Godzilla to see the beautiful place in the middle of their island, a place inaccessible to him due to the terrain, so she came up with a plan.

She waited for him to go to sleep and set to work digging / breath-blasting a notch through the cliffs. She arranged the biggest blasted pieces all over the rocky slippery spot in the sand. That way, Godzilla had something to grab onto and get up if he took another spill there. (Cuz sometimes that happened.)

When Godzilla woke up, she showed him what she did and took him through the notch she made. Something about her Fire felt different that early morning, but he couldn’t suss out why because he didn’t have time to ponder it while following her.

Godzilla looked through the mist at this new-to-him part of the island, a spot where the plants were mutated to be bigger than typical plants due to the natural nuclear reactor underground, and his eyes welled up.

The plants were a bit different because of evolution and all that, but the lake was like the shiny rocks he found deep in ocean caves.

The colors, the humidity, the heat, the sounds and the smells reminded him of the Old World he knew before he Fireball destroyed everything. This was the home Godzilla searched for in the strange forests of shiny boxes and weird trees.

Shezilla had no memory of this due to how she was created, but she saw the familiarity in Godzilla’s eyes and knew this mattered to him. She followed him through the beautiful greenery while he told her all the stories he knew about the Old World and she came to realize what her gift meant to him.

And she was glad, because she needed somewhere to call home, too.

Then they had a splash fight in the lake and rolled around in the greenery, and in the midst of their goofing around Shezilla showed Godzilla the nest she dug out near the lakeside. She said this was the perfect place to raise a baby.

And that’s how Godzilla found out he was going to be a dad.

Shezilla’s identity crisis

Poor Shezilla. There’s a period where she swears she lost all her memories somehow because she can’t recall being tiny like Filia. Her first memory is “hatching” fully grown from a metal and glass tank. She came out with a lot of instincts and genetic memories, so she knows things like how to communicate in Old Tongue, how to use her beam, that she needs radiation to survive, etc.

But knowledge-wise, she was a blank slate.

Shezilla is a clone. She was cloned from Godzilla’s cells, but his DNA in his skin cells is so mutated that she might as well be a whole different godzillasaur because she has genetic traits that Godzilla doesn’t, such as smaller dorsal spines, lighter coloring, a more agile build and golden eyes.

She goes through a bit of an identity crisis when she comes to understand she wasn’t born from parents like Godzilla was. She’s terrified that her soul isn’t real. She’s worried that she herself isn’t real enough. For a time she expected the Stars to wipe her out of existence. When she had Filia, she couldn’t sleep for a few nights because she didn’t want the Stars to take her daughter back as punishment.

Godzilla convinces her that no, she did not choose to exist and only somebody’s own bad choices determine their ultimate fate. Being born wasn’t her choice and neither was how she was born.

He helps Shezilla get through her identity crisis even though he can’t really understand what she’s going through. He tries because he loves her so much and it breaks his heart to see her so scared. Every day he tells her he loves her, that he would always choose her as his one and only, and he reminds her that she’s a fantastic mother to their baby girl.

Shezilla comes around after a long period of soul searching and Godzilla’s reassurance.

Family stuff

Mutated adult godzillasaurs mostly subsist on radioactive materials, but occasionally eat for the taste and enjoyment of eating. They’re considered omnivorous although they prefer meat.

Young godzillasaurs like Filia have to eat to grow and give their body the fuel to go through physical maturation. Radiation is supplemental to support her rapid healing abilities and keep her mutation from killing her. The food to radiation ratios reverse as she gets older and learns how to sense its presence.

Godzillasaurs eat meat by tearing bite sized pieces off and swallowing them whole. Filia doesn’t have enough teeth to take those bites, so right now Godzilla or Shezilla do the biting part. They take a big bite of a whale or whatever, tear it into smaller pieces and feed them to Filia. They pick the meat off bones too, as Filia can’t crunch up large bones and she’s likely to choke.

But if she manages to catch a small animal like a seal or a bird? She can eat that in one gulp and the radiation inside her body will kill it before she starts to digest it. This happens sometimes because she practices hunting by pouncing on or chasing small animals, so a successful catch is like a cookie to her. Her parents take her hunting with them when they’re getting her something to eat and she is learning to hunt by watching them.

Watching Godzilla and Shezilla feed Filia is strikingly similar to watching a parent bird of prey feed its chicks, and it includes all the facial messiness of humans spoon feeding their babies. Whoever feeds her is also in charge of lick-washing her face during the meal to keep her clean. Godzilla and Shezilla trade off on feeding duty, but sometimes they feed Filia together. It’s a very tender and intimate bonding exchange. (And sometimes, mid-meal, Godzilla and Shezilla look at each other in awe, like “we made this baby!”)

Just picture these huge creatures, beings feared by the general public, taking turns slowly bending over with a piece of meat held in their teeth, letting Filia take it and tenderly licking the mess off her face between bites.

The proof that this tenderness is rubbing off is seen best on days when Godzilla is having trouble moving around. He likes to lay down and nap when his body is being crappy about cooperating for him. So Filia will go catch something, maybe a seal or a pelican, or maybe a small octopus, bring it ashore and feed it to her dad with the same gentleness he feeds her. He eats it even though it’s like giving a human a single crumb of something and she washes his face afterward. She thinks she’s helping him, and it melts Godzilla’s heart when his baby girl does that.

Play has different roles…

Godzilla and Shezilla play differently with each other than they do with Filia.

In many ways Godzilla and Shezilla’s roughhousing plays the same role as some forms of dance for humans; it alludes to sex. Once one or the other is pinned, they engage in “suggestive” behaviors like nose nuzzling or nibbling at each other like they do when they’re settling down to mate. Sometimes it leads to that. Sometimes they get up and start again because it’s fun.

When they play around and roughhouse with Filia, they are teaching her how to fight. Filia is getting 2 different fighting styles because her parents don’t fight exactly alike. Shezilla is all about loose speed and surprise. Godzilla is stiff inexorable brute force.

So Filia can try to climb on her dad, and he’ll yank her off, or wrestle her to the ground. That is teaching her how to get rid of somebody hanging onto her. And don’t think climbing up to the back of his neck where his arms don’t reach will work, because he’ll use his tail to bat her off or take a controlled fall to knock her loose.

Filia can try to pounce on her mom, but Shezilla turns at the last second and pins her to the ground. That teaches Filia to pay attention to her opponent’s situational awareness and do a better job of staying hidden until she’s sure she can get the drop on somebody.

There are lots of roars and snarls during play, but they don’t sound threatening. The blows, throws and tail whacks aren’t as hard. Claws don’t dig in and teeth don’t rip out chunks of flesh. Sometimes Godzilla hits hard by accident because controlling his body isn’t easy for him, but he apologizes and Filia understands it was an accident. He has never caused her any serious injuries.

Filia’s fighting style will mature into a mix of her parents as she grows up.

When she is old enough to start going into season, Shezilla will be the one to engage her in “adult play”, which will both teach her how mating works and teach her how to fight off a rude suitor who is too rough or doesn’t get consent first. It’s the godzillasaur equivalent to the sex talk. (Nobody actually mates during this, it’s more of wrestling around and showing her what positions she’ll be in.)

Godzilla will coach her during the game on how an interested suitor will behave, what displays to look for and where to hit to make a rude suitor lose interest if he acts without getting consent.

The fastest way is a nuclear pulse, but that is saved for if the rude guy actually gets their private parts hooked together because that’s painful for both parties. The goal is to stop him before he gets that far. A headbutt to the nose, claws slashing the eyes, throat or armpits, and a point blank beam to the face are pretty effective. Unmutated godzillasaurs did everything except for the beam and nuclear pulse. Sometimes it led to the death of the rude fella since girls had long claws and sometimes ripped out major blood vessels while fighting him off.

If Filia had been a boy, Godzilla would be engaging in the physical part of play while Shezilla explained what to look for when a mate is receptive to display advances. Godzilla would give a very stern warning to never go for it until a mate gives the all clear, because hard physical NOs are painful. The mnemonic in Old Tongue translates to something like “if she doesn’t give you her head, you might as well be dead!” because the girl shows consent by rubbing her head against the guy’s neck like a scentmarking cat. It is totally not okay to continue until she gives that signal. No ifs, ands or buts!

If we step closer to canon and imagine this with Junior, who had no mother present, Godzilla would fulfill both roles of teaching and explaining. This would also apply if something happened to Shezilla and he was the only parent present for Filia, but he would be a lot gentler with the play part.

And btw godzillasaurs in the Old Days were huge on the whole consent thing. Godzillasaurs who didn’t get consent were kicked out of their pods and nobody wanted them. The facial and neck scars on a guy who tried to take a girl against her will were pretty much a visible signal that he didn’t behave himself.

The guys do a lot of the “work” during mating, but it’s the girl who is ultimately in control when they consent. If they are forced into that position, it gets ugly fast. No godzillasaur who tried to force himself on a mate ever succeeded in reproducing because the girls are taught from a young age to kick his ass if he ignores their NO.

Godzillasaurs are animals, they have strong instincts to mate while in season, but they can think about their actions and resist the impulse for gratification if they want to. A godzillasaur with poor sexual impulse control would be a terrible father who sets bad examples anyway.

How they screw! (NSFW)

(I saved this for last. Don’t read past this point if you don’t want to know. I wrote this down because PEOPLE KEPT ASKING HOW, so whoop there it is!)

They’re animals. Huge, mutant radioactive animals. They don’t care who’s watching as long as whoever is in the area doesn’t interfere.

It’s not an emotionless act for them. It’s not always driven by instinct. Sometimes they do it because it feels good.

Godzilla only needed to do his display act the very first time. That was all the muscle flexing, showing off his teeth, showing off his dorsal spines, bringing Shezilla a nuclear reactor to show he can provide for her and hoping she liked what she saw.

Now that they’re established as a couple, they have ways to flirt and signal that they’re in the mood.

Most of the time, they exchange the Old Tongue equivalent of sweet talk. He will tell her she is the brightest star in his sky. She will tell him he is her sky. They hold hands. They snuggle. They entwine their tails. They sleep all curled up around each other.

…And sometimes they tackle each other and roll around being silly because they like to play! (Godzilla is the frequent instigator of play. :) ) Occasionally, their play gets more serious and intimate. Sometimes it’s foreplay.

Before I go on, a wee bit of anatomy / terminology:

Being in season means Shezilla has mature egg cells and Godzilla is mass-producing sperm. This isn’t happening if they aren’t in season.

The only way to tell Shezilla is in season is her scent changes, and humans can smell it. It smells kind of like a stinky summer day dumpster to us, but it’s perfume to Godzilla.

Shezilla goes into season twice a year unless she’s gestating a live egg or raising a baby. It takes her about a month from conception to laying the egg, but she’ll ‘know’ inherently if she’s going to be a mom or not because her body will start diverting radioactivity to her pelvic organs. Being in season for her lasts about a week unless she mates, then it goes away because the deed is done. She gets more laid back when she’s in season because her body tells her to save its energy to mate and grow a baby, but she’ll be very amorous / affectionate if Godzilla is around.

She’ll flirt with him by walking up to him, huffing in his ear and brushing past him as she walks away again. That’s her “Hey, honey, come get me.” He follows her and they…yeah. :P

Godzilla shows it outwardly when he’s in season. His dorsal spines get a bit bigger / spikier and his muscles bulk up and get more defined because it’s the guy’s job to impress the girls, much like many bird species.

The muscular bulking up happens over a period of about 3 months and peaks when he’s in season, then it recedes over another 3 months. The sharpest spikes on his dorsal spines shed off in flakes until they’re back to pre-season size.

Somebody observing him every day may not see it happening unless they take photos and compare. His sperm count rises and the 24 hours where he’s considered in season is when it’s at its highest, so it triggers the hormones that tell him to pass those genes on. He gets really frigging horny.

He goes into season once a year for about a day unless Shezilla is around. Mating triggers it to stop, same as with her. He’ll cycle in and out of season with her cycles because her pheromones trigger sperm production. Shezilla being around accelerates the processes that make his body go into season so he can be ready when she is, so it looks like his going in and out of season is on fast-forward. His dorsal spines will stay spiky, too, rather than shedding off later.

An in-season Godzilla is grumpy and a tad aggressive because of sexual frustration (major urge, no relief), but that stops when Shezilla is around or it goes away by itself within 24 hours because his hormone spike ends. His in-season period is so short because his radiation kills a lot of the sperm, which ends the hormone surge. Pre-mutation, his in-season period lasted a week.

He flirts with Shezilla by flexing his muscles and batting his eyes at her as he walks by. That’s his “Hey, babe, I want you.” She jumps at him, which sometimes knocks him off his feet and they…yeah. :P

Their cloacal vents are right in front of where their tails split off their bodies. You have to be standing directly underneath them while they stand upright to see the slit in their hide because the muscles keep it tightly shut when not in use, as that keeps out infections and other nasty stuff. This is important for positioning when they mate because they do it via the aptly named cloacal kiss.

You can trigger Godzilla’s vent to open by squeezing the base of his tail where it joins his body. It’s an infantile reflex he retained due to his Palsy, whereas in typical godzillasaurs it goes away when they grow in their first full set of teeth. When he was little his parents stimulated him to go to the bathroom and cleaned him up afterward. That reflex is still active, too, but he won’t go on you unless you wipe him with a warm wet sponge to simulate mommy cleaning him up. It’s like helping newborn kitten void wastes.

This does NOT trigger sexual sensations, you need suction to do that because of how his body’s sexual response cycle works.

ANYWAY…

—–

Now for how they do it.

Shezilla’s dorsal spines are smaller and able to sink a little into her back because she lays supine and Godzilla gets on top of her. The rounder tips allow her dorsal spines to support her weight or sink into what she’s laying on if it’s soft enough. It doesn’t hurt her to lay on her back unless she’s slammed down, but Godzilla doesn’t do that because he’s not an overeager jerk. ;)

An able bodied godzillasaur would squat here, but Godzilla can’t do that, so he gets onto his hands and knees and Shezilla grabs him just below the armpits with her claws to help him get into position. Her knees get pushed apart and upward to rest against his hips.

They wiggle until their vents line up. Godzilla everts the muscular inner walls of his cloaca into Shezilla’s vent, her muscles grab onto it and they hook up and seal together like the space shuttle to the ISS.

Godzilla lays all the way down until they are chest to chest and cheek to cheek. His hands go behind Shezilla’s shoulders, though sometimes he holds onto them, and she slides her hands forward to grip the backs of his shoulders. That’s a perk of his disability– they’re able to embrace each other and be really close while they mate.

Shezilla’s cloaca muscles tighten and initiate suction, and that is what stimulates Godzilla’s sexual response cycle into action. He’ll reach orgasm* in about 1 minute, but it will take longer than that for his semen to get down and out so an orgasm for him can last 5 to 6 minutes while in season and 3 to 4 when he isn’t.

Godzilla gets a burst of oxytocin when he nuts. With every squirt he shoots a backyard swimming pool’s worth of semen with the force of a fire hose at full blast. It happens in several bursts over a span of 5 to 6 minutes when he’s in season. Sometimes it’s so intense he shivers and sees stars.

He has to shoot hard. There’s a lot of ground to cover once the sperm is sent on its mission.

Shezilla’s coiled up oviducts are as long as an American football field when uncoiled. The ducts widen themselves as much as possible, so Godzilla’s stuff has to get pretty far in on its own to have a chance to hit the mark.

Shezilla’s body reacts with a burst of oxytocin at the first squirt of semen and stronger muscle contractions to pull the fluid towards her ovaries. She sucks it up as he pumps it out and it’s a suction strong enough to take the air from somebody’s lungs and burst their eardrums. Her orgasm is as intense and long as his and she finishes after him because he gets a head start. Sometimes her eyes roll back because it’s that dang good.

He can tell by her breathing and the eye rolling that she’s enjoying it. She knows he’s enjoying it when his back muscles spasm. That’s something felt, not really seen.

For them, there is no situation where one comes and the other doesn’t. Actually, his causes hers. They go into a trancelike state so they don’t pop apart too soon or accidentally hurt each other. The more still they are, the better it feels. Sometimes they look at each other and fall into each others’ eyes, other times they close their eyes and nuzzle noses.

When they’re done, they feel giddy and the “high” from all those neurotransmitters and it hangs around for around 15 to 30 minutes. They will be in a really good mood, which is evident by either a rambunctious bout of play or they groom each other and cuddle.

Aaaand that’s it. They’re finished doing the deed.

They can mate pretty much anywhere if Shezilla can comfortably lay back. On land, underwater, it doesn’t matter. Their favorite way to do it is in the surf– a kaiju recreation of From Here To Eternity, only he’s the one on top and they’re screwing instead of smooching.

Now, is it possible to interrupt the act? Yes and no. You can ruin the good feelings by interrupting them, since it yanks them out of the trance and cuts off the endorphins. They can separate if they have to, but Godzilla is going to be spraying everywhere because he can’t stop that process once it starts and it is messy. (Also, for him, embarrassing!)

But you’re more likely to get hit with a nuclear pulse from both of them. They zone out, but they stay aware of their environment and can respond to a threat if necessary. Shezilla can sweep the sky with her beam, and Godzilla can sweep the ground with his.

Really, it’s best not to disrupt them. They don’t respond kindly to coitus interruptus.

.

* Orgasms for them are a biological necessity that gets all their fluids where they’re supposed to go. It makes the mating process pleasant so they have the drive to keep doing it when their instincts say it’s baby making time.

—-

So why aren’t there a bunch of babies running around? Good question.

Unfortunately, Godzilla’s and Shezilla’s sex cells are so mutated that conceiving Filia was a literal 1 in a billion chance where 2 sex cells without too much genetic damage made contact. That doesn’t stop them from trying anyway, because for them sex is intimate and enjoyable, and instinct drives them to do it when their bodies tell them they’re “fertile”.

Godzilla’s mutation killed one testicle entirely. The one that works barely works, but still churns out a lot of sperm. His sperm morphology is a mess. It’s super hyperactive, so looking at a sample under the microscope is like watching a cloud of gnats flit around. Getting an accurate count is impossible. Speculation is it’s in the trillions. Some of his sperm cells can have up to 4 tails pointing 4 different ways and can’t go anywhere fast, those are the slowest moving ones. Others have a tail that’s too small, or it has 2 heads, or they’re totally misshapen and missing genetic material entirely. Some have a mid-piece that’s too short, too long or a weird shape. The healthiest cells that can make the swim carry damaged genes that can’t create a new life. The cells missing genes entirely (empty) tend to die as soon as they leave his body.

Godzilla’s blood is dangerously radioactive, but his semen is worse. It glows soft green in the dark until it dries. (His blood doesn’t.) It gets thicker as it dries and turns into a flaky paste. If it’s inside Shezilla’s body, it forms a mucus plug to keep the live sperm from seeping back out, but she may still dribble a few drops when she stands up after they mate.

But Godzilla’s semen is more radioactive than polonium-210, which is one of the most radioactive substances around. It’s a very strong alpha, beta and gamma emitter, though gamma is the ‘weakest’ output. You’ll 100% get skin cancer if it gets on bare skin unless you wash it off immediately. Wet or dry, it doesn’t matter. Get a lot of it on you (ie a spill) or get some in an open wound and you die. Inhale a flake that’s floating in the air because you didn’t wear a dust mask and you die of cancer later. If you’re enough of a doofus to eat or drink it, you’re really gonna die because alpha radiation is the most dangerous when it gets inside your body. I won’t even think about the beta and gamma you’re getting too. Yikes.

Shezilla’s egg cells tend to die or get damaged as they mature. It’s impossible to get a sample from her, but it’s safe to say her internal radioactivity damages the genes and it’s not likely she’ll have any more babies. The “dud” eggs she lays occasionally are just as dangerous as Godzilla’s semen, more so after it’s broken open. Same deal– don’t get any goo on your skin, and don’t try to make an omelette unless you have a miserable death wish.

After Filia, every other time sperm and egg cells meet leads to instant apoptosis. If Shezilla lays an egg, it’s a dud– just the chorion, amnion, and allantois without an embryo, similar to a human molar pregnancy. She knows it’s empty because of the lack of radiation diversion before laying, so she will eat the egg to replenish the nutrients lost when her body formed it. Godzilla doesn’t watch that part.

If Filia is around, Shezilla saves part of the shell for her to eat. Filia ate her own eggshell after she hatched because it’s nutritious, so eating some from a ‘dud’ egg is like a little vitamin boost for her.

Btw, Filia doesn’t hang around and watch her parents do it. She isn’t quite old enough to understand what they’re doing; she thinks they’re taking a funny nap. They taught her to leave them alone while they “take a nap”, so she’ll go somewhere else on the island and play until she hears them rumble around again.

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END

#Godzilla #disability headcanon #actuallyautistic #autism #Tay don’t look #Youtube #infodump #Heisei Godzilla #gif

[tales-unique]

FAULTS OF THE HEART

Chapter 1

The woods were always a sacred place for you. When you entered their depths you felt a sense of serenity and safety that had no comparison in the civilized world. The sounds of the wind rustling through the leaves, flowing streams, and the sounds of the birds and the rabbits and the deer — all the sounds of Life. So, it felt only natural for you to go to them when running for your life. Even under the light of the full moon, dappled on the ground through dense tree cover, you knew how to navigate the trails in the undergrowth. “She’s heading into the trees!” The call echoes and forces you to push harder, to run faster, so you might live to see the sun rise.

Neither you or the others in your small village knew of the now occupied reach and how the surrounding lands had been claimed until it was too late. They waited until someone unwittingly stumbled onto the land so they could make an example of them in a show of power. He called himself The Baron. He was an asshole. In taking what had been free land for himself he had doomed your village to a slow, painful death of starvation unless they bowed to his will. There was no other alternative for the village, lest they lose everything. It was his brutish thugs that pursued you, all because you strayed too far trying to feed the people you cared for. “I can’t see her! Where’d she go?” “I don’t know! Just keep looking!” You stop, sliding down an embankment to seek cover.  Hunkering down further as you hear your pursuers coming ever closer, you force yourself tighter between the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. Mud and mulch cling to your cloak and soak your back and legs but you know that if you move now you will die. Holding your breath you freeze as one of the men stalks by where you’re hiding, narrowly missing your head when he strays too close to the edge. It feels like hours, lying there in the cold, wet earth, before you hear their voices and their steps recede until there’s only the sounds of the forest left. Even then you wait a moment longer before slowly rising to your feet, brushing yourself down with shaking hands. The Baron won’t stop pursuing you if he knows you’re nearby, so it’s with a heavy heart that you know you can’t return to the village. Your possessions, though meager and few, are lost to you. Your small home left to fall into ruin. The friends you had made will become distant memories. Bitterness settles deep within your stomach and you weep, out of anger, out of sadness, that one mistake was your undoing. It’s difficult to stop the torrent once it’s unleashed, but you know you can’t linger any longer. You should already be running far away from this place. Sniffling, you wipe frantically at your eyes and nose on tattered sleeves, continuing your escape.

The soft, building light of the rising dawn brings with it a sense of melancholic relief. You wander wearily through the trees, their figures no longer familiar now that you’re so far from home, the waking songs of birds sounding triumphantly in the air. They have survived the night, and so have you. Almost. The sharp, searing pain that erupts abruptly in your left shoulder blindsides you and you stop, the world suddenly going still. For the longest moment you forget how to breathe and your mind goes blank. A choked gasp escapes you as all at once the harsh reality of what has happened comes crashing over you like a tidal wave. At first you can’t tell exactly what is lodged in your flesh, your mind a garble rush of adrenaline, only that the pain is pointed in a single location. An apprehensive glance to your shoulder sends a chill down your spine. With a whimper you reach up with your uninjured arm to feel the sharp iron tip poking through ripped flesh, warm, fresh blood coating your fingertips, then behind to gingerly finger a long, slender body of wood. An arrow, lodged so deep in your flesh it came out the other side. Your nose crinkles as the metallic tinge in the air finally hits you, gagging from the rush of dizzying sickness that sends your stomach into freefall. Pain radiates from it, rippling outwards, rending your arm useless. The shrieks of panicked birds in the canopy overhead snaps your attention to the archer hiding among the trees, the rushing footfalls thudding against the ground betraying their path; one small mercy. You force yourself to move, crying out with the effort as you hold your arm still with a firm grip. It’s the only way to limit the damage the arrow can cause while moving, but it does nothing to stop the excruciating pain it leaves in its wake. Blood leaks between your fingers but you don’t stop, can’t stop, or else you will die at the hands of this assassin. Another arrow narrowly misses your head as you veer sharply to the side, towards the sound of running water. If you can make it to the water and lose them you might just make it. That is, if the exhaustion and blood loss don’t take you out first. Several more join the hunting party, to your dismay. You pant, your head spinning and your mind beginning to fog, but at least you don’t fall. The sight of clear water fills your vision and, to your shock, a man. He startles as you rush into view, arm veined with bright scarlet, bringing with you a band of armed men. It looks as though he’s in the middle of fishing, but that’s quickly forgotten when he sees your injury and the company that are after you. “Please!” You plead, falling to your knees before him in the dewy grass, “please don’t let them kill me!” Sharp gold eyes watch you for a moment in shocked silence before he turns to eye each man as they surround you both. They’re all pointing their weapons at him, swords and bows and arrows alike, shouting for him to leave them to their business. One of them separates to train his bow on you, likely the same man who shot you in the first place, as you clutch desperately at your bleeding wound to stem the flow. “We said be on your way, stranger!” Another one snarls to the man, “this bitch is ours.” It all happens in the blink of an eye. You barely have time to comprehend the situation before it’s already over. The man stands before you, a hovering sword at his side, and only then do you realize that he has killed them all in a single sweep without so much as raising a hand. You hazard a look at the carnage around you and instantly regret it; each man dead with his throat cut, shock petrified on their faces. Quickly you look back to the man, watching him with wide eyes as he descends upon you. He speaks not a word as he looks over your shoulder, still bleeding despite your grip on it. “P-please help me,” you beg feebly, your body feeling heavy under its own weight. The blood loss was starting to take its toll on you and, though the feeling felt oddly muted and detached, you were terrified.

The sequence of events that follows next are mostly lost to you, but not for a lack of trying. You remember fragments, haphazardly pieced together. Blurred scenery. White hot pain. The scent of burning flesh. A tightness around your shoulder. Muffled talking. You try to sit up, the edges of your vision tainted black, but a firm yet gentle hand on your chest pushes you back down into soft sheets. “Where—” Your voice quickly dies in your throat as searing pain shoots through your shoulder and down your arm, a sharp cry escaping you. It takes you a moment to recover but when you finally open your eyes you gawk at your surroundings.Your mysterious savior has brought you to a musty room filled with shelves upon shelves of books, a low, crackling fire catching your attention in the dusty fireplace. Looking down at yourself you see that you’ve been set upon an old chaise lounger, a lumpy pillow beneath your head. It smells of dust, as do the sheets, but there’s an odd sense of comfort that they, and the room as a whole, offers. “I removed the arrow,” he finally speaks, golden eyes observing you as you struggle to sit up, “you should rest, you’ve lost a lot of blood.” He moves to stand, collecting up the bloodied rags and tossing them into a bowl filled with water dyed crimson as he walks to the door to leave you in peace. It’s only as he’s leaving that you realize that he’s cleaned and bandaged your wound, no doubt saving you from infection and blood loss and the slow, painful death they would have brought you. “Wait!” You call, voice hoarse. He stops, remaining with his back to you. “I,” you swallow, breathing laboured from the effort of your outburst, “I wanted to thank you, for helping me,” you grind out, an aching throb pulsing from your shoulder down your arm. For a moment he is quiet and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake in speaking to him, but that thought soon vanishes when he turns to look at you over his shoulder. You wait in anticipation for his reply, clutching the sheets weakly. “Get some rest,” he says, softer this time, but he quickly steels himself and leaves the room without any further comment. The door is left slightly ajar so you listen to the sound of his receding footsteps before sinking back slowly into the sheets. The makeshift bed is nothing like your own but it’s more than you could have expected from a stranger so you’re thankful, heaving a sigh of relief. Then you frown, because you don’t even know his name.

#Castlevania #Castlevania Netflix #Castlevania Imagine #Castlevania Imagines #Alucard #Alucard Imagine #Alucard Imagines #Adrian Tepes #Adrian Tepes Imagine #Adrian Tepes Imagines #Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Fugitives Part 2:

Part 1

@teheranb I apologize this took so long.

Warnings: mentions of IV lines, mentions of medicine, self-hating/chastising, animal death, gross food (rat meat), fever, starvation, dehydration, trapped in a cave, talk of death, pessimism/lack of hope, needles

~

They were running... again.

The IV lines, the old medicines... how could Hero be so stupid? Of course a cabin in the middle of the woods would be an old hero base. Well, not of course, because it is not entirely common to have a base nowhere near any known civilization and of that small size, but still. She should've scouted the building, looked for homeowners, predators...

And cameras. Cameras watching them like a fox does to a rabbit.

A quite obvious one too. A blinking red light, stuffed into a corner. Classic, so classic that Hero actually considered the possibly of having to have her mind restarted like a computer.

But of course that sci-fi fantasy was not real, or possible. Yet. If a rottin cabin could be a base, then a way to restart the brain could be quite realistic if scientists worked on it.

The dilemma between whether or not shutting down and rebutting the brain was a possibility was not the most important thing going on at the moment, however.

Hero was running, as stated above, with an injured villain in her muscular arms. And, if you have not guessed it, she was running because there were heroes, her old allies, running after her.

"Take a left," Villain hissed suddenly, his voice spoken with such clarity that it nearly sent Hero to her knees. But nonetheless, Hero dove towards her left.

Sure enough, the villain led them to a deep ditch. Hero jumped into it and started to run, thinking about how lucky she was to have grassroots covering her-

A bullet whizzed past her ear.

Hero ducked, covering Villain as she fell. The villain hissed, but said nothing else- not even a whimper as his shoddily stitched wounds brushed against sharp rocks.

Hero resumed a crawling position as she helped push Villain to his hands and knees.

"Can you crawl a bit?" She asked.

"Cave 'head," Villain answered, lazily and slurred with no strength left in his voice. Telling her to turn absorbed the last of the remaining strength like cat litter on an oil spill.

"Yeah, yeah I see it," Hero replied and helped guide Villain over various rocks and tree branches.

The cave ahead of them was small. They would have to crawl to get inside, and given that, they would have to block the entrance and then not have an escape point.

They would be starved out, but the cave was the only hope for safety at the moment.

Villain went in and immediately collapsed on the ground in a tangled mess of limbs. Hero stiffened when she saw one of the bullet wounds begin to bleed again. Not now Hero, she told herself. Grab a boulder.

Using her superhuman strength, Hero grabbed a hefty boulder and pulled it into the building's entrance, leaving the villain and hero in complete and utter darkness.

"Are you okay?" Hero asked and blindly ran her hands over Villain's body. She felt his muscles move in an upward fashion. He nodded, or so she thought, but whether he did or not, it still equaled the same answer.

He was not okay. Not one bit.

She could tell by the way he just laid there, exhausted. Hero crawled right up next to him and coddled his head close. He didn't resist as if his joints and ligaments were made of fluid- which also worried Hero. If he got sick, if infection set it... would she be able to sacrifice herself for his well-being?

That wasn't even a question. There was no "sacrifice of the mighty". If she gave herself up, both she and Villain would be captured and killed.

He couldn't get sick. There was only one way out of this and that was him staying alive on limited resources.

How hard could it be? Hero thought with a cold shiver sliding down her back.

《~~》

Day Five:

Hero shivered as she snuggled close to Villain to preserve body heat. Periodically, she would jab him in his side in an attempt to keep him lucid as possible. But, eventually, the need for sleep got too overwhelming that even her persistent taps couldn't keep him awake.

They were beginning to starve.

There was no food in the cave, just murky water that drippled off the sides of the cave droplet by droplet. Heck, not even a puny mouse had visited them yet.

Hero pulled Villain in until her weakening muscles started to ache. His stomach had heat radiating off the two wounds, as did the rest of his body.

"Hey bud," Hero murmured, shaking him. "You up?"

"Mm," Villain replied, not really waking up.

"Cold?"

"Mm."

"Is that a yes or no?"

"Yeh."

"Okay."

Fever. Why did he have to have a fever? It wasn't like the current conditions could permit such a miracle to happen, but it still was very unfortunate.

Day 6:

Hero placed a piece of moss on Villain's forehead and around his neck. He didn't wake up that morning, just tossed and turned in fitful slumber. In the dim lighting, Hero could just make out scabbed over abscesses on his stomach.

He wouldn't make it two more days in this condition, Hero realized with a gut wrenching pang as she tried to cool and warm Villain at the same time.

Hero pursed her lips, draining a soaked piece of moss into Villain's mouth. He opened his mouth, but didn't swallow- not that it mattered, there wasn't enough to swallow anyways.

Hero's own hunger pangs and need for water disappeared within the first couple days, though she feel could her own body weakening as fatigue started to get to her.

Later that day, Hero heard a squeak. Glancing around wildly, she saw a rat sniffing her moss operation in the light. Slowly advancing, Hero proceeded to catch the thing.

She did, hands wrapped around the body and Hero ended its life by smacking its head against the wall. Quickly, she used her fingers to dig in...

"Villain!" She called, her voice hoarse and slurred, as she shook him awake. His eyes blearily opened. Hero didn't waste a second. She tore some of the flesh off the thin bones and chewed it up before regurgitating it and placing it on Villain's tongue- he was too weak to chew through the tough meat.

He numbly gnawed at the flesh and swallowed before his eyes started to drift closed.

"No stay awake," Hero shook him again. "You have to eat."

Villain mumbled something and Hero jostled him again, but he was lost to the world.

"Crap," Hero whispered and took a bite of the sour food herself. She ate only a few bites- you never knew when another opportunity would come along.

Day 7:

Hero woke up late that morning, or at least she thought she did. Villain's head was on her stomach where he laid curled up in a tight ball. His fingers grabbed at her dirty shirt with such intensity that Hero was genuinely surprised.

The rat laid next to them, right where Hero placed it to protect it from scavengers. She woke Villain up and helped him once again to eat.

It was disgusting. More than disgusting. Revolting even, but it was the only thing keeping them from starvation.

Villain fell back asleep immediately after finishing his meal. Hero took the time to look him over. Infection was running rampage. Thank God there was no flies or his body would be eaten alive, especially with the intoxicating smell...

Hero pulled his shirt back down and wrapped her arms tighter against his frame. He wouldn't be alive much longer, so she might as well comfort him for as long as possible.

Heck, she wouldn't be alive for that much longer if that rat was the only source of food in the whole cave.

Day 8:

His breathing was shallow and he didn't even wake up that morning. Hero let herself cry, murmuring into Villain's ear and she held onto his limp body.

"Please stay with me," she whispered. "We can't fight this together."

But the villain didn't move, nor woke up to say that everything would be okay.

Because it wouldn't.

How could it be okay? He was dying and she wasn't too far behind.

Hero sobbed, tears streaming down her face and into his grimey hair.

"Please," she shuddered, but it was no use. He was losing the fight, his breaths slowing...

"Quick give him this!"

Hero jerked herself around to come face to face with a masked stranger. Hero wrapped her arms around Villain protectively.

"Who are you?" She spat.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. For all I know, you could be working with the heroes."

"I'm not," the stranger chuckled. "Give him this. It'll give his body some strength until he can properly take care of him."

Hero looked at the needle in the stranger's hand.

And then back up at his masked face.

"Okay," she said and administered the liquid.

#villain whumpee #hero whumpee #hero caretaker #heros and villains #injured villain #tired villain #tired hero #tw death mention #infection #writing #whump #injured whumpee #feverish villain #feverish whumpee

[doctorslippery]

(Knowledge) Ancient tomes of sacred lore begin fading away.

(Life) All healing magic now comes at a cost to the casters own health.

(Light) The sky is darkened to a permanent twilight.

(Nature) Large swathes of wilderness are infected by a strange rot.

(Tempest) Droughts spread across the land as rain doesn’t fall as often.

(Trickery) People with normally good humor become cold and bitter.

(War) Morale is decreased and soldiers begin to mutiny against their officers.

(Death/Grave) Undead creatures have a chance to randomly rise from graves without a spell cast by a necromancer.

(Forge) The knowledge of forging mithral and adamantine armor and weapons is lost.

Nothing. Once the god is the creator of it’s own domain, but it is able to maintain itself in its absence

(Arcana) All spells now have a chance to go wild.

(Fire) The world becomes cold as it goes into a long winter

(Air) The air becomes polluted and difficult to breath. Many people die of lung related issues.

(Water) Rivers and oceans go stagnant and unmoving.

(Earth) The land becomes infertile and unusable.

(Time) Time rifts start appearing everywhere causing things from the past and the future to come into the present.

(Dragons) All dragons, dragonborn, and kobolds turn to dust

(Darkness) The world becomes filled with endless light and a never ending day

(Love) Family and friends start to hate one another and form grudges over the smallest things

(Order) Revolutions happen everywhere and anarchy reigns supreme

(Good) Empathy and altruism are no more as people are looking out for themselves

(Evil) Angels descend from the heavens to purge the world now knowing that there is no evil god to protect the wicked

(Nature) The forests run amok. Animals and plants invade cities, as every natural order accelerates out of control.

(Nature) Conversely, the forests and fields begin to die. Animals grow sickly and lethargic.

(Nature) The seasons begin to spin out of control. A day dawns with blazing heat, but snow covers the ground to a foot by lunch, and a monsoon rages that night.

(Death) Nothing may die. Nothing. Not the cattle, not the sickly, not the old, not those grievously wounded. Souls are bound to their bodies, and may never set off on their journey. Chop someone into bits, and every tiny piece still twitches in agony.

(Any) As the gods ‘body’ decomposes their essence (what they were the god of) infects the land affecting all who lived below their realm eg if the goddess of nature dies – nature explodes over the area (eventually after hundreds of years the natural green will die and become the land will become barren after the body completes decomposing). If it was the god of war or anger – every person and animal in the realm becomes driven by anger/easily angered, and plants become more dangerous, etc

(Nature) nature becomes twisted and more and more aberration like.

(Nature) herbivores turn predatory and hunt for meat

(Forge) weapons turn weak, Metal is prone to bending and it tarnishes easily.

(Weather) drought spreads across the land

(Weather) destructive “sunder storms” where lightning falls like rain destroy the landscape.

(Weather) winter never ends.

(Any) Angels, demons, fey, other gods, and spirits start competing for that gods power and worship to fill the vacuum

(Any) If the god who dies has worshippers still his corpse enters an odd undead state. He’s too week to be an actual god again or become truly alive again. However his remaining worshippers keep him from truly dying.

(Any) desecration of the area in which it died.

(Any) the nature and landscape where it died twisting to reflect the gods domain

(Any) people in the area also changing to reflect the gods domain

(Any) powerful magic soaks into the land creating powerful items. Things like spiders whose venom can only be cured by other god touched magic. Plants whose berries heal you and their juice can even raise the dead, etc.

(Knowledge) every self aware creature must succeed on a DC 10 Int saving throw or take 1D4 psychic damage and lose as many memories as the DM decides while also losing 1d4 Ing Stat.

(Any) The heavens begin to fall to earth/fuse with the material plane

(Any) Paladins will be in a huge pickle during their conquests.

(Protection) Warding and shielding spells no longer work.

(Protection) The ancient wards that kept the Elder Evils, horrible beings whose power even the gods fear, at bay fall.

(Any) People realize the gods are not immortal, and in reaction, faith in all of the gods begins to falter.

(Tempest) The entire world becomes still: no wind, no waves, not even clouds, like the world is perfectly smooth.

(Trickery) Nobody remembers that they can lie. Everyone either states the truth or is silent, ruining the world’s governments by disabling political maneuvering.

(Forge) Metal no longer melts, making all previously forged weapons exponentially more valuable, even an old rusty sword.

(Any) All of the people that were sacrificed to the gods come back (betrayed heroes, betrayed family members etc), but all of the things that gods has given to us fade away.

(Any) Outsiders from other worlds reveal themselves as the liberators, freeing us from our oppressors by killing the gods.

(Any) The god is replaced by another god that does a terrible (or better) job as the dead god temporary replacement.

(Any) The god was slain, the being that slew the god gains the gods power or becomes the god

(Any) Nothing. The god may have been responsible for creating or shaping it’s aspect, but once it was created it doesn’t need the god to maintain it.

(Any) The gods power leaks from its remains. Any magic of the gods aspect is greatly amplified for several years. The closer to the remains the greater the power is amplified

(Death) Everything that dies rises as a zombie.

(Death) Spirits of the dead are unable to move on. Everything that dies becomes a ghost.

(Death) Spirits of the dead start coming back to the living world

(Knowledge) people begin to forget things. (Names, places, history, how to do things, what they were doing, etc.)

(Life) every living thing becomes sterile (animals are unable to have children / plants cant produce seeds)

(Nature) microorganisms reproduce at an accelerated rate & every other living thing gets wiped out

(Nature) plants and animals become withered anemic versions of themselves

(Nature) plants and animals begin to die off (decay / rot / slowly crumble to dust / slowly turn to ash)

(Nature) plants and animals begin to mutate into monstrous versions of themselves

(Nature) plants experience explosive growth and begin to take over everything

(War) People begin to become more violent and warlike.

(War) People begin to become too apathetic to fight each other. Eventually, people become too apathetic to do much of anything. They just stand around in a daze until the die of starvation or thirst.

(Any) All clerics suddenly overload on divine power (as if the gods power has been divided between them). And they all start to slowly go mad, and start to lose control.

(Light) a massive and well known constellation vanishes and leaves a dark patch right in the middle of the night sky

(War) A vanquished war-god drops his enormous miles-long sword, which falls to Earth and pierces deep into the planet’s mantle

(Death) The god’s followers begin killing at random, hoping the power of their faith will resurrect him

(Light) Random people all over the realm begin to go blind

(Tempest) A whirling hurricane forms in the middle of the Ocean… and doesn’t stop growing

(Forge) The followers of this deceased god begin a pilgrimage to destroy every craft ever created and stamped with his symbol

(Arcana) The god’s death leaves a hole in the weave. Something… unwanted fills in the gap with Its body.

(Nature) The wood of the deity’s patron plant (oak) begins to disintegrate into dust all over the world. Buildings topple.

(Life) This god’s followers have a crisis at the oxymoron of their god dying. They are slowly driven insane

(Grave) The god itself rises as an undead, an anathema to its own mission

(Arcana) People start forgetting spells. (As a spell is cast, roll to see if that is the last time it is cast)

(Arcana) Everyone gains a cantrip. Now this minor power is just something everyone does, like breathing or eating.

(Any) Suddenly there is a war in the cosmos. Minor deities, greatly powerful beings like Warlock Patrons, and other generally unknown greater powers are vying for the position.

(Any) Upon the god’s death, their body is split into thousands and thousands of pieces. These rain down like meteorites but instead of being falling rock bits, it’s a new people recently awoken. Who are these newcomers and what is their memory of or connection to this lost god?

(Tempest) Ocean currents fluctuate wildly

(Earth) Widespread tremors and volcanic activity

(Tempest) Unpredictable squalls

(Light) Continuous winter sets in

(Order) Ubiquitous revolutionary sentiment arises

(Music) Instruments quickly go out of tune, and singers forget words and have their voices crack more often

(Magic) All casters and magic items are treated as one level lower

(Nature) Animals behave erratically and crops fail

(Fate) Prominent heroes begin to meet ignominious ends

(Luck) Coin tosses and dice rolls result in predictable patterns (Heads tails, heads, tails/1,2,3,4,5,6,1 etc.)

(Luck) Randomness begins to fade. The first to go are critical successes and critical fails, but very rapidly all rolls end up as 10.5’s.

(Any) Their power returns to its source where anyone could take it for themselves

(Any) When trees and plants are cut down, instead of sap, blood starts to weep from the cuts.

(Winter) Animals that hibernate don’t wake. Plants and trees stay in their winter state. Even if the weather gets warmer things affected by season act like it never ended.

(Knowledge) every creature’s INT ticks down steadily as their memories slowly disappear until all life is reduced to animalistic intelligence.

(Death) no one can die anymore. HP can’t be dropped below 0 and no one can die of old age, accumulating age bonuses and penalties until all physical stats are reduced to 0.

(Light/sun) the sun and stars go out. The temperature continuously drops until the entire world is frozen over.

(Magic) all spells, enchantments, supernatural and spell-like abilities, etc. get progressively weaker until the entire world is basically in a null-magic zone.

(Nature) plants and animals become incapable of reproducing.

(Life) healing magic no longer works. Natural healing progressively weakens until it too is no longer possible.

(Trickery) it becomes impossible for anyone to lie or mislead

(Forge) a small mountain range of metals and the occasional gem crashes into the planet in 3… 2… 1…

(Knowledge) everyone receives random revelations rather simultaneously.

(Trickery) some guy shows up three days later, wondering what all the hubbub’s about.

(Life) Every wound healed by their clerics starts to rot, and everyone reanimated becomes undead.

(Trickery) Their holy texts go blank, holy symbols turn to dust, and all knowledge of the god is ripped from mortal minds, the god is dead and forgotten in all ways. While most people feel like they’ve forgotten something, the most devout worshippers to the lost god go mad from the hole in their mind and soul.

(Trickery) The gods secrets are spread throughout the world, the common-folk learn of their rulers corruption, people discover their spouses cheating, children learn their beloved dog didn’t go to a farm, all secrets good and bad are made known and will rip families, kingdoms, and even other faiths apart.

(Any) A shockwave of power blasts through the realms, knocking everything unconscious for d10 hours

(Arcana) Spellcasters and magic items begin to “glitch”, causing them to either be completely unable to cast spells/activate items or the spells go wild.

(Any) People and clerics begin to notice that something is…missing…

(Nature) Many two headed animals are born the following day.

(Any) The god(s) start to slip away out of people’s mind, and they start questioning if they were ever thing to begin with.

#d20 #rpg #dnd #dungeons and dragons #fantasy #sword and sorcery #campaigns #fairy tale #mythology #fable #dungeon master #dm #game master #gm #hackmaster #magic item #magic weapon #magic ring #spell book #d12 #d10 #d8 #d6 #d4 #d100 #dice

[poormeowmeowcollector]

A Wild Game Of Survival

Pairing: Dark Loki x Female Reader, Loki/Sigyn

Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence, Language, Dark, Loki (he is a warning). Each chapter will have individual warnings.

Summary: In a world where everyone is immortal until they meet their soulmates, I expect to have a nice life with them and I was so wrong.

Notes: yes, it has first person narration. It's an old one.

Chapter 3: Captured

Warnings: Violence, Loki, hate on sex workers, kidnapping, hostage, starvation, dehydration, biting, infections, cursing, mentions of sex assault (not graphic and doesn't happen. Loki is bad but not that bad)

Summary: hospitality gone wrong

Notes: this is the darkest chapter in the piece. You can hate on Loki for this one, he had it coming.

First chapter previous chapter AO3 next chapter

I woke up in a dark room, a small lamp on top of my head being the only light. I saw a door with no handle but no windows, and a small toilet. I was underground.

The door opened and I proceeded to slam my kidnapper with a blast of light, but his Darkforce swallowed it and left me panting.

"If you don't want to die of fatigue, you should stop attacking me with Lightforce. I will consume it," Loki's voice said in an imitating tone. He had the upper hand and he knew it.

"Open the hole, whore," He commanded, his fingers squeezing the right place to force my mouth open. His other hand took a spoon and shoved it inside before closing my mouth and nose.

"You sick bastard," My full of hatred comment made him cast an empty smile, some faint lines popping on the edge of his eyes.

"What? You expected a five star hotel? Maybe some hugs and soft kisses on the forehead? Didn't they teach you how cruel life is?" He mocked.

I was unchained, so I attacked him physically. He easily grabbed my hand and his green force held every muscle of me.

"Listen well, you little whore, for I will say this once. If you attack me again, I will pull off your limbs and let you starve in these four walls, dying while covered in your own piss and shit." He spat, jaw clenched in anger.

"You lie." I said more to myself than to him.

"You wish I do, darling," The sick smile was still on his face. I relaxed, knowing that I should wait for the right moment before I strike.

"Good whore… You became a whore, didn't you? "Pay me $100 and I am yours tonight," Oh, what we do for survival…" His words hurt like lemons in the wounds, but I hid it under a cold face.

"I would rather a thousand lifetimes as a "whore" than one as a killer," I shot back, his smile widening.

"What do you think you will become after you kill me? A heroine? You hate me for killing my soulmates but you dream about the same act every time you close your eyes. You are funny, the funniest I met. A funny whore," The way he used that name again and again scared me. Did he want to rape me before killing me.

I didn't speak, and it only pleased him more.

"What's the matter, dear? Did the snake bite your tongue?" He chuckled, his cold hand grabbing me by the jaw when I broke eye contact and forcing me to look at him.

"Rule two if you don't want to starve, never break eye contact. I want to see the fear and hate in you," He demanded. I didn't react, I just waited for him to let me.

He did it after a few moments, a bottle of water falling beside me before he left. I waited until I was sure he was not watching before I emptied it.

I needed a plan to get the hell out of here. I can't use Lightforce, not until he's too weak to use Darkforce. So, I will have to weaken him with physical strength. Unexpectedly, while he's vulnerable. I have to wait until I find a hole in the armour to poke. Then I run, or I kill him. Or, I wait for the right moment to take away his new toy, to take my own life. The next one can carry the mission to kill him, if I fail.

But for now, I have to play his game and wait.

~~~

Later, I wish I knew how much time later, the metal door opened again. Loki walked in with a tray of food.

"When did I order and I don't remember it?" I asked, more curious than hateful.

"You need food to stay strong enough for me to feed. Apparently, your Lightforce gives me strength. You are more important alive than dead, make sure to stay like that." He spat. So, that was his plan? To milk me? He left the tray in front of me and sat half a meter away, his eyes pinned on me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"Waiting for you to finish your food. You have five minutes to begin eating before I force it in your throat." His voice was still plain and cold, but I didn't buy it.

"You won't," I commented, sure he was lying. Too sure. And like Icarus who floated too high, I got burned and fell.

He grabbed the tray with the rice and held me with his magic as he grabbed me with one strong hand by the jaw.

The fever made him slow. I grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed him hard on the toilet. It would not kill him, but the concussion would be awful and the infection would make it worse. I jumped up and ran like my life depended on it. Because it did.

"Swallow or choke," He demanded again. I swallowed only after the lack of air made me dizzy. I then bit his hand.

"Ouch, you bitch!" He yelled, taking the bleeding hand away from me. I didn't answer, preparing my next movement.

"Got anything to say? Like an apology before I let you die in here?" He was furious, I knew it. But I would not be a disciplined sheep.

I opened my mouth only to spit on his face, hitting my aim in the eyes. He raised the non harmed arm, ready to slap me before he lowered it again and chuckled.

"You shouldn't waste your fluids like that," He said before leaving, taking the full tray with him.

I am fucked.

~~~

Probably three days passed, if I judge on my symptoms.

Peeing was in the past, and so was sweating. I was lost in my mind, trying not to faint. I knew that if I closed my dried eyelids, they would not open again. But their weight was getting more and more.

He didn't lie, he was determined to let me die in here.

My body was too weak to move, not having to piss or shit helped with the embarrassment. I could feel a strong pain in my right, probably my liver screaming at me. But I couldn't do something. I was trapped, abandoned to die.

My eyes finally closed as I let go and gave up, tired of being a human raisin. I was about to dive into nothingness. But something changed.

I felt something liquid on my lips. Water. Sweet water. I drank and drank and drank, I thought I would explode. I stopped only after the source dried out. I then casted my light to heal me, since I was strong enough.

That was a mistake.

I opened my eyes to see Loki grabbing me, an empty bottle on his one hand and the other one covered in darkness as he was feeding with my light.

"Let me heal, at least," I hummed, my voice still too weak.

"You did." He answered shortly.

I sighed, waiting for him to finish before I can heal myself. He soonly let me, the black hand revealing a bandage on the palm, exactly where I bit him.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asked. I didn't speak. Another mistake.

"Answer when I speak to you!" He yelled, his good hand slamming the wall behind me. But I didn't flinch.

"I can bite you and you need me to fix it. Also, am I still delirious or are you sweating in a cold room?" I listed the information I obtained. He was indeed sweating and he looked paler, weaker. Light-headed, feverish, infected. He bled when I bit, and his mouth was dirty. I infected him. I am still weak. But high chances are that I heal and he worsens. I had my chance to leave.

He looks annoyed but too tired to argue.

"The lesson is that you don't bite," His voice came out throaty, I noted and nodded. He left me a tray of food and another bottle of water and sat half a meter away. I had to play with his rules, until I am strong enough to escape.

So, I grabbed the spoon and started eating the soup in silence, not looking up at him as he was watching me. It was a plain and salty thing, probably canned and heated, but my hunger made it taste like heaven. I only stopped when the kidnapper interrupted.

"That doesn't sound good," I commented as Loki was clearing his throat, trying to get his breathing in control after a pretty bad coughing fit. That's why he took my Lightforce, he needed it to heal himself. But it was not enough.

"Mind your own business, whore," He barked, voice still raspy.

"Touche," I basically sang and started eating again, ignoring him completely this time.

After I finished, I pushed the empty tray at him, knowing that he didn't trust me with the spoons and forks. He simply grabbed it and stood up in a smooth move, turning on his heels and leaving before closing the door. I plastered my ear on the door, waiting until his steps vanish before I heal myself completely, drink some more water and fall asleep to gain back my lost energy.

It was the best decision I made in that room.

~~~

I woke up when a hand banged the metal door. I was on my feet when I saw an extremely weak Loki, like I predicted, standing in there.

"Can you cast Lightforce?" His Old Norse accent was so hard I barely understood him. I nodded.

"Do you want to feed or to heal?" I asked, quickly catching up with the situation.

"Healing," He mumbled and laid on my stomach without a warning.

"What will I get in return?" I bargained. We both know who had the upper hand now.

"A week," He answered shortly, and a bad coughing fit stopped him from speaking more.

"Damn… That infection really got into you… I think I should clean up my mouth," I mumbled.

"When?" He asked, mocking me. I could feel how much he was burning against my stomach.

"My schedule is pretty flexible," I smiled.

#dark #dark loki #dark loki x reader #loki x reader #tw violence #tw kidnapping #tw dehydration #tw starvation #tw biting #tw infection #tw hate on sex workers #it gets worse before it gets better #angst #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #multichapter #fanfic #fanfiction #Loki fanfiction #Loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki/sigyn #loki

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 23

Things seemed to be going according to plan. When we were notified of Vindi's capture at least. T.H. and I had finished booby trapping the northern exit and were now trarting the last sweep of the lab that Master Kenobi had ordered. We were to find and terminate any surviving droids and secure the facility so that the GAR could seize the lab's assets. Everything had been going smoothly, until someone reported one last capsule missing. A capsule that contained the virus.

Senator Amidala informed us that Vindi had given it to a droid and that it most likely still had it. So the entire place was placed on lockdown. Comms were alive with chatter and new orders were being relayed down the chain of command. Every hatch was secured, the corridors to those that had been blown up in our attack were sealed, and within less than two minutes, the entire facility was closed off to the galaxy. And most of our troops were still inside. As soon as everything was closed, a tremor shook the entire place and knocked a lot of us off balance. The droid had set off the bomb.

The laboratory's safety measures kicked in and blast doors started to close down on safety rooms. I yelled at my partner to run for the nearest one, but we were right in the middle of the facility and all safety rooms were at least three corridors away. We run anyway. All around us doors were being closed and the feeling of being chased by an unbeatable enemy grew as we grew closer to the nearest safety room.

When we rounded the corner, Senator Amidala and Representative Binks were running through the threshold as well. The door closed down on the safety room as the Senator turned and saw us, eyes wide in surprise and desperation. We were locked out. Behind us, a wave of blue smoke approached with the speed of a Kaminoan wave. I put my mask on as fast as I could and turned the filter on for toxins before T.H and I were swallowed by it. It was ironic, such a deadly and unstoppable virus that closed in on you with the ferocity of facing your worst fears; but when you closed your eyes, it felt like a warm summer breeze on the skin -soft, tender, loving.

"Please tell me your helmet filters toxins as well as smoke." I begged my partner without turning to face him.

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Comms went wild with activity, superiors checking in with their troops, making sure the dignitaries were alive, trying to confirm the virus had been contained. I took the built in earpiece out of the comms device attached to my left forearm and put it on. I didn't want anyone listening in. Not when I knew what would come next. The device in my ear beeped with an incoming message.

"Commander Foreas." I said.

"Kriari, thank the Force, are you okay?" said the voice of my master.

He sounded worried. I didn't blame him, we both knew what this meant.

"T.H. and I didn't make it to the safe room. Clone helmets don't filter toxins, and while mine does, I'm not sure it can filter the Blue Shadow virus.," I told him honestly. "We will hunt down the remaining droids, but Master you need to leave-"

"I don't want to hear it, young one." he interrupted. His voice was strained, like even considering leaving me -all of us- here hurt him physically. "Anakin and I will find a cure."

"Master you need to consider that you won't be able to-"

"I am not leaving you there to die on your own, Kriari. I couldn't live with it, and I'm pretty sure I would have two battalions mutineering if I tried." He tried to joke.

I thought about the Pack, about my friends so many systems away, somewhere on the other end of the galaxy, waiting for me to return.

"If I do die here, it won't be your fault, Master. I want you to know that." I said. "Say you understand."

"I do. If the worst comes to happen, is there something I should tell Master Plo or any of the 104th?" he asked.

"Tell them I'll still have their backs, always."

I cut the conversation short, not wanting my mood to decrease any further. T.H.'s morale would go down even further and we still had a lot to do. I looked at him, he had taken his helmet off and was looking at my face. His expression was somber, but determined. We were going to die, he knew that, but he'd be damned if he showed any weakness now.

"Ready to take it out on all the tinnies left?" I asked him with a grin. Even if he couldn't see it, my eyes crinkled with the gesture.

He returned it and I could see the cold determination in his eyes. He would go down fighting.

"At your side? Any time, Commander." he said putting his helmet back on.

…

We were able to make contact with both Ahsoka's and Rex's teams, they had all made it to a safe room but had been intercepted by droids. They had closed the blast doors a second too late and were now all infected. Some of the men were already showing symptoms, and their physical energy was being depleted way sooner than anyone anticipated. By the time senator Amidala, representative Binks, T.H. and I made it there, Nax was already dead and Waxer was getting weaker by the minute. Both Rex and Ahsoka were infected as well, but they were powering through as best as they could.

We had all made up our minds though. We were finishing the job and making sure the virus stayed inside the lab forever. It didn't matter that we were still inside, we would all give our lives to save the galaxy from a fate even worse than an intergalactic war. We separated into two teams, one Jedi each. The men of the 212th would be coming with me, and Rex and Ahsoka would be going with the digitaries. We would clear out the reminding droids and make sure not a single hatch was opened. I did warn the other team about the boobie traps on the northern hatch so they wouldn't be getting any nasty surprises.

Before we went our separate ways, I took both Ahsoka and Rex aside.

"Take care, you two." I said, patting both their shoulders. "May the Force be with you."

"It was a pleasure, Commander." Answered Rex, saluting me.

"May the Force be with you too, Kriari." returned Ahsoka with a sad smile.

There was no need for more.

I turned to the rest of my team. Waxer, Boil and T.H. were all waiting for orders. I had one wounded man and three infected. One of them was having a harder time dealing with the virus' symptoms already. The chances of us making it out alive were slim, very slim. But still, I couldn't bring myself to remain stoic, cold, unmoving. I wanted them to know that I would be willing to go down with them. I wanted them to know that my life was not worth more than theirs.

So I took my mask off.

They said nothing. they didn't need to. They understood the statement I was trying to make and accepted it. I was dying with them, that day or any other day the Force deemed it. I was going to die there anyway, the chances of our masters finding a cure were almost nonexistent, if the virus didn't kill me then starvation would. I was a walking corpse either way.

As it turns out, there had been a lot of droids left inside the lab that were now trying to escape. Thankfully, most of them were regular battle droids and SBDs, we had taken care of the droidekas already. It doesn't mean the fight was any easier, we were all more lethargic and tired as time went by. The virus affected airways and lungs, so breathing became increasingly difficult, even to those of us who were holding up better than the rest.

I made each member of my team take turns wearing my mask, the less contaminated air they breathed in, the better. It gave each of us a little more energy and clean oxigen every time we wore it, and for the most part, I think it was the thing that saved us in the end. The first of us went down once the last droid was destroyed. Waxer started gasping for air as he tried to hold on to the wall for support. His left hand went up to his neck as if trying to pry his larynx open manually.

I went into healer mode immediately. During my stay in Dorin, I had been taught the basics of Force healing, as well as first aid. The thing is that Dorin had a toxic atmosphere and intoxication was not uncommon, so even if I wasn't technically a healer -or had the makings of one- I knew I could at the very least help him breathe easier.

I instructed them to lay Waxer down on the ground and stripp him off his upper body armor. I put my mask on his face carefully, making sure the airlocks were secure and the filters working correctly. I kneeled down by his side and put one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead. I needed to calm him down enough for his body to relax and not struggle against me when I channeled the Force into his lungs. Waxer's body went limp within seconds, and when I deemed him ready, I moved my other hand to his chest.

It had been a long time since I had attempted to perform this procedure, but I would be damned if I didn't at least try. I focused my attention on his lungs, on his bronchi, on every channel the virus had stuck to and obstructed. And then I tried to persuade the midichlorians within them to fight against the virus. It was slow work, careful, meticulous. One thing was to persuade a mind to do your bidding, another entirely was to persuade organs that work on automatic reflexes. If done wrong, his immune system could detect my presence and deem me a threat. If that happened, I wouldn't be able to persuade it to focus on the virus instead of me. So I decided to do things right. Feel the Force around me, find the light and let it guide me through the process. There was no time for worrying, for what ifs, there was no time or room for anything other than the task at hand and the life, slowly fading before me. My hands tingled with the effort and little droplets of sweat started to form on my forehead and back. I didn't have all the pieces to the procedure, I knew the basics, but I knew in my soul that I wouldn't have called myself a Jedi if I didn't at least try to save this man's life. Because that's what he was, not just another clone, not a replaceable number on a list. A life form with a name, with a story, with a life and friends that cared for him. A person.

I could feel my breathing getting shallow with the effort and the unfiltered air. I could feel myself getting weaker as I used the Force in me to keep Waxer's alive. I could also feel the rest of my team's worry rising. They felt fine, physically at least, if a little tired, but their worry was rising steadily.

"Commander," started T.H. "Your face…"

I didn't answer, I couldn't afford to get distracted. I had finally convinced Waxer's immune system I wasn't its enemy and was now in the process of helping it fight back the virus.

"Comm-"

"Shut up, will you? Can't you see she's trying to focus?" Snapped Boil. "Just keep your eyes peeled for enemies and your ears open for comm chatter."

"She's going to get herself killed if she keeps this up," he insisted.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation after that, the treatment was working, even if it was slow going and consuming every bit of my energy. But it wasn't all me, Waxer's body was doing all of the heavy lifting. He was so strong, fighting so hard. It was his strong will to survive -even when unconscious- that kept me going. He didn't want to die, not yet.

So I wouldn't let him.

The only thing that got me out of my trance was the beeping in my right ear. It was a closed channel.

"I hope you are still there, young one." Said the deep voice of my Master. "It would be a real waste for you to die on me now."

I chuckled in my exhausted state, shedding a few tears of relief.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to hear your voice, Master." I confessed, falling on my backside and attempting to brace myself. I was so sleepy, so exhausted, I wanted to lay down and sleep for a lifetime.

"Hang in there a little more, Kriari. We'll get you out of there. All of you."

I allowed myself to let my tears flow freely as T.H. took a hold of me and Boil helped Waxer sit up. I hid my face in the trooper's shoulder as I exhaled in relief. We were getting out, we were all getting out. I knew Jedi weren't supposed to fear death, be it their own or others', but I felt no guilt then. I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty. I would live to see my friends, my family again, and I couldn't be happier.

#TWP #clone wars fan fiction #star wars the clone wars #plo koon #obi-wan kenobi #commander wolffe #captain rex #ahsoka tano #padawan!oc

[johannestevans]

Vampirism: What Is it?

Wrote out an article about vampires, as applied to vampires like those in Heart of Stone, and in my other original work! Thinking I might start making semi-regular Wiki-style articles with world-building like this.

Tip Jar

Vampirism is a disease communicable by a magical, blood-based virus (sanguinavirus A) originally found only in the infernal bat (Desmodus infernus), a species that came from Averna, the nether dimension commonly known as Hell, which came to Earth in approximately 9000 BC. Observing that some of these bats were very hardy and resistant to damage, in the vicinity of what is now known as Northern Iraq, some sorcerers at the time chose to examine them in detail, and realised they were infected with the aforementioned disease. By artificially cultivating the virus for human transmission, they created a strain intended to infect mundane and magical humans (sanguinavirus B), and thus created the vampire. 

Today, according to records from the International Vampiric Council, there are approximately thirty to forty thousand vampires spread across the Earth, with the vast majority of them originally having mundane or magical humans that were infected with it.  Sanguinavirus B is an extremely hardy virus that immediately makes changes to its host's make-up in order to ensure it can safely exist within it and sustain itself, and thus triggers what is broadly known as the vampiric disease.

What is a vampire? 

The term "vampire" commonly refers to a human - ordinarily but not always from a magical community - who has been infected with Sanguinavirus B, and has subsequently contracted the disease known as vampirism. This is not to say that only humans can be vampires, however - many animals are capable of contracting vampirism, as are many fae species. 

Once it has been transmitted to a new host, the sanguinavirus establishes itself in the core of its host's body, around the heart, and forms new matter that has been compared by some academics to a hindbrain. It devotes itself to initially changing the make-up of its host body, and then focuses itself on defending the host from threats, boosting immune response, strengthening the host, and ensuring it retains a temperature low enough for the virus to remain healthy. The vampiric core allows vampires to heal from even severe injuries very quickly, and makes them heavily resistant to damage or weakness. 

As well as priming its host to resist damage or attack, the sanguinavirus creates in them a heavy thirst for blood, specifically for the iron-rich protein haemoglobin, and the vampire will be driven to quench this thirst in the same way they would be hunger or thirst for water. 

A human vampire will typically develop an ability to extend two of their canine teeth, which will become very sharp, in order to pierce a victim's skin, and after making this piercing, they can lap at or suck from the blood that comes from the wounds. These teeth inject a vampiric venom, which is made up primarily of two parts - an anti-coagulant, to ensure free blood flow while the vampire drinks, and a strong analgesic that will impart a feeling of euphoria upon the victim. As a vampire ages, their venom typically becomes more potent, and stronger venom's effects can last for several days, and even have hallucinogenic effects, or induce memory loss.  

One of the primary changes in the vampire's body is in the increased density and number of tightly corded fiber that makes up their muscle: muscle becomes very tightly packed and heavy in make-up, meaning that many vampires are far stronger than their undiseased counterparts. The skin is also thickened and hardened, and the veins are tightly constricted in order to help keep them safe from harm and to ensure they are appropriately insulated by the heavy flesh. As a result of this strengthening of both skin and muscle, a vampire is typically far, far heavier than their human counterpart, and most non-vampires would struggle to lift or support the weight of one. 

With the thickening of the vampiric skin, the vampire ceases to sweat, and in such cases as the vampire becomes overheated, the veins will further constrict and the skin will become slightly thinner in an attempt to ensure heat can escape. In the case of the latter, the vampire's skin will seem chalky and strangely static in appearance, and these are the elements a doctor should look for as signs of fever, as opposed to a sweaty brow. 

Vampires do still need to eat food and remain hydrated, on top of their appetite for blood, and studies have shown that vampiric appetite is not noticeably different to that which they had whilst human, although some particularly strong-tasting or aromatic foods can become overpowering and thus less palatable once the disease has been contracted, owing to the enhancement of vampiric senses. With that said, vampires can survive starvation or extreme thirst for far longer than their human counterparts, even if they are also deprived of blood. 

 The sanguinavirus thrives best at lower temperatures, and the body temperature of a human vampire typically stands at approximately 23° Celsius, or approximately 73° Fahrenheit. Vampires are subsequently very cold to the touch, as well as their flesh being hard when pressed upon, and their bodies are often compared to corpses in physicality. Vampires prefer cooler temperatures, and although due to the magical nature of their disease, they can often retain their homeostasis up to much higher temperatures, if a vampire contracts a fever, or if they are under threat from fire, it can rapidly become very dangerous for them. 

Many vampires - although not all - are highly sensitive to direct sunlight, and have to shield themselves from the sun. It's generally recommended for vampires to shade themselves as best they can, wearing clothes that cover the skin, carrying a parasol or remaining in the shade, and to use a high-factor sunscreen. 

Those vampires sensitive to sunlight will often begin to burn and blister within minutes of being under direct sunshine, and there are documented cases - although none in recent history - of vampires dying from combustion following exposure to sunlight alone. 

Many of the vampire's senses are heavily enhanced following the contraction of the disease, particularly their senses of hearing, taste, and smell. Due to the enhancement of the latter, some vampires find themselves sensitive to some strong scents - such as garlic, fish, or some strong chemicals - and vampires typically have strong enough hearing to keep track of the heartbeats of anyone else in their vicinity.  

Although the vampire's sense of sight is not particularly improved by the contraction of vampirism (it has been noted that both colourblind vampires and vampires with myopia or hyperopia, as well as vampires who are blind or partially sighted, retain their impediments post-turning), many vampires find that the extent to which their eyes take in light is heavily improved, meaning that they can see in low-light conditions, as well as being able to navigate by ear in complete darkness. As a result of the former, vampires can develop photosensitivity, particularly to the shine of bright sunlight or to strong fluorescent lighting, and will wear sunglasses in public. 

Vampires' homes are often lit by candles or by low-impact, warm lighting that is easy on the eyes. For ancient vampires particularly, although these are problems many vampires have, adjusting to the modern world in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution has been difficult because of the constant hum of electricity in wires, water moving through pipes, and particularly the high-frequency noises of motors and light bulbs.

 Due to the aggressive nature of the immune system after the vampiric disease has been contracted, some vampires also develop overpowering allergies, particularly to plastics, cleaning chemicals, and diesel and petroleum-based products. In urban and industrial areas, it is common to see vampires wearing clothes that cover them from head to toe, and to wear sunglasses or even goggles, and to wear some form of face covering, such as a mask or piece of gear to breathe through, and perhaps ear plugs. 

Many vampires have highly developed sound proofing in their homes, or choose to live away from urban and industrial centres in order to avoid overstimulation. Vampires are widely regarded as immortal, due to the fact that the effect of their disease is to ensure that they do not appear to age, and vampires can live for centuries upon centuries, if not millennia. 

This is not to say that the vampire is immune to damage - common causes of vampiric death are exposure to fire (although unlike humans, they do not die from smoke inhalation, but from the heat), hyperthermia, and as a result of fever from another contracted illness. 

Because of the effects of the vampiric "hindbrain", which encourages ultrafast healing in the vampire, and because the vampire's flesh is so resistant to being pierced or cut, it is difficult for a vampire to be injured. They can recover swiftly even after breaking a bone or severely injuring an organ, although they do not regenerate limbs. 

In cases of severe head injury, the "hindbrain" has been known to suddenly swell and take over many unconscious processes ordinarily controlled by the prime brain, such as control of the nervous, circulatory, and respiratory systems, giving the brain much needed time to heal itself.  With that said, vampires are not capable of limb regeneration, and they cannot regenerate lost limbs, nor regrow their head once they have been beheaded. 

A traditional method of execution for a vampire is to drive a hard stake made of iron or heavy wood through their heart while they are lying on their back - this is because a hammer is needed to work up the necessary force to pierce the vampire's hard, dense chest, and the stake must pierce directly through the "hindbrain" to prevent it from assisting the vampire in later healing.

  Sanguinavirus can be transmitted between parent and baby, although there are some additional health risks concerned for expecting parents - some vampires struggle to drink enough blood whilst pregnant, as all the protein is consumed by the foetus, occasionally necessitating a regular transfusion. 

Contrary to popular belief, children who've contracted vampiric disease do continue to mature and grow, and although they have the teeth and a mild venom from birth, they do not form the strong, dense flesh, or sensitivity to light, that is typical to vampires until they reach puberty. 

Young vampires tend to grow more consistently throughout puberty rather than having the sudden growth spurts human children often have, and as a result, many of them have complaints of sustained aches and pains until they're fully grown. With that said, on average, vampiric youths often grow taller on average than their human counterparts. They usually cease to visibly age at around the age of twenty-five.  

Being an artificially cultivated magical virus, sanguinavirus takes two elements to be transmitted - first, the new host must be bitten by a vampire, or to somehow have an infected vampire's venom in their veins, and secondly, they must then ingest the vampire's blood, or have it enter their bloodstream.  

A common myth among noble vampires, which has been roundly debunked by academics, is that the working class and poor vampires came about because they would capture and eat infernal bats that had drunk their blood. In actuality, there are vampires of all socioeconomic classes, because even at the advent of the vampiric disease's introduction to humanity, there were different sorcerers at work upon it, and later, noble vampires would often transmit the disease to their favourite servants or slaves, or to merchants and tradesmen in their communities. 

It has been posited by many academics that there is a risk of sexual transmission of the sanguinavirus between a vampire and a partner from whom they have fed, because there is a potential for blood-to-blood contact because of tiny abrasions during sex. It is recommended that vampires use appropriate prophylactics during sex, even if they are using a chemical birth control, and to use plenty of lubricant. 

Full guidelines for safe sex for vampires can be found on the website of the International Vampiric Council.

#as defined by dictionary #vampires #worldbuilding #heart of stone