#Also I was an animal trapped in a human body who needed to return

[loganhowlettshousewife]

okay so feral logan i love him your honor I was just thinking, maybe logan when he's like chapter five-ish(? (like when he's already at peace with both his human and animal side). And idk he gets desperate, and so damn desperate that he's just like feral growling and grabbing and tugging at reader's clothes.

But but with him being actually so desperate so needy that is the reader who ends up taking control in bed and handing him everything he needs in a silver platter. Plain down just feeding him love in a silver spoon typa shit

taking control

animal - bonus headcanons

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

this doesn’t exactly follow your request but i love the idea of reader taking control in bed so... (also i haven’t written in almost a month so this may be bad)

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (m!receiving), unprotected piv, blood, logan’s canon pain kink

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan always takes control in bed. he starts off slow and loving, worshipping every inch of your body until the smell of your arousal is too much to bear and the animal in him takes control. he loses himself to his baser instincts to mate, to breed, to claim.

he’s needy and desperate, taking anything he can get, wanting anything you’re willing to give him. he’s in control, and yet sometimes, while you’re in the throes of passion, you’ll gasp out praise or whimper his name and feel him pause, faltering for a moment, his cock twitching inside you, caught off guard by his desperation to please.

you wonder what would happen if you took control, if you told logan that he had to obey your every command. all he ever wants is to make you feel good, you imagine he’d be so good at following orders.

it’s a thought that’s been running through your mind for days, one that haunts your every thought and yet never comes to pass, escaping you every time logan kisses you with the intention of going further, your brain melting into a puddle, suddenly unable to form coherent thoughts.

you’re dressed in a pretty red slip dress you’d bought specifically for logan reaction, waiting for the sound of the shower turning off, anticipating his arrival into your shared bedroom, warm and naked, hair damp and curling slightly, perfect and beautiful and yours.

you meet his eyes as he walks into the room, his eyes darkening in an obvious display of lust as they trail over your figure. you smile, pleased, as he rushes towards you, dropping his towel in his haste, trapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply.

you melt into the kiss, into the beautiful familiarity of his arms and his scent, into the warmth of his hands on your body. he lets his hands roam and explore your body as if it's both the first and last time he’ll ever have the opportunity, palming at your breasts, flicking his thumb over your nipples, leaving a trail of fiery heat with every brush of his skin against yours.

it’s nearly impossible to pull away, but you manage just enough to mutter the words into the shared air between you, your lips so close to his that they brush as you speak.

“i want to try something,” you say, hesitant, nerves and arousal and excitement mixing into a heady cocktail of sensations, “let me take control tonight.”

logan hesitates, and so you rise onto your knees on the mattress, running your hands over his shoulders and down his broad back, staring into his eyes as you plead gently, “i want to take care of you. you always make me feel so good and i want to return the favour. please?”

you know exactly what you’re doing to him, lowering your voice, giving him your best bedroom eyes, pleading. he hates to say no to you. he won’t say no to you.

logan’s agreement isn’t verbal, rather it comes in the form of his easy compliance as you switch positions. within moments you’re straddling him, grinding down against his hard cock as you mouth wet kisses on his neck and trailing down his chest, biting and sucking at the skin to leave marks. they won’t last and you both know it - you can already see his skin returning to its usual golden colour - and you wish not for the first time that he could keep them, to think of you every time he looks in the mirror, reminded of your adoration.

you reach his happy trail and shift your attention to his thighs, kissing around his cock but never touching it. it’s flushed red, tip leaking, begging for your attention. logan groans, fighting against the urge to grab you, clawing the sheets instead.

“fuck,” he groans, “please- need you.”

finally, you take him into your mouth, savouring the heady weight of him on your tongue. you take your time worshiping his cock, taking him as far as you can and using your hand to jerk off the remaining length of him. you bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue around the tip and catching on his slit.

he’s breathless, low sounds escaping his throat every time you take him deeper, swallowing around his cock. it’s unlike the rough growls he lets out when he’s fucking you, his voice a deep rumble uttering your name like a prayer, animalistic and wild and with an edge that would terrify you if you didn’t know him so well. he’s needy, almost submissive.

“fuck, darlin’, i’m close,” logan warns, and you pull off when you feel him start to twitch on your tongue.

“not yet,” you reply, a rough edge to your voice from the strain of taking him. he’s big enough to make blowjobs a challenge, but one that you enjoy, leaving your throat thoroughly wrecked afterwards. 

you climb onto his lap once more, kissing him, letting him push all of his restless energy into something, his hands finding purchase on your waist as his tongue explores your mouth, tugging you down so that you grind against him.

“help me take this off,” you tell him, tugging at the fabric. he wastes no time, his claws releasing with a sharp sknt, and in mere moments the pretty lingerie you’d bought is destroyed, pushed off your body and thrown aside by logan’s desperate hands. it doesn’t matter - you’d bought it knowing that logan would likely ruin it.

the sharp metal of his claws brushes against your stomach, the cold making you gasp. he starts to pull away but you grab a hold of his wrist, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss the divots between his knuckles where metal meets skin.

you grab logan’s cock, lining it up with your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. it’s always a challenge to take logan, even with your pussy dripping, slick with arousal. he stretches you out perfectly and for a moment you forget that you’re supposed to be in control, letting him control the pace as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, gentle as you adjust to the size of him.

you give him a warning look, pushing his hips down to stop their movement. logan could easily overpower you and continue, but he obeys, albeit grudgingly, letting you set the pace as you ride him.

the sight of him underneath you is heavenly, and you understand now why he can’t seem to control himself when your positions are reversed. 

it doesn’t take long for the both of you to lose yourselves to pleasure, your pace losing its rhythm, logan shallowly thrusting up into you, unable to hold himself back from chasing after the feeling. he can’t seem to form words, communicating his pleasure through animalistic growling and grunting, noises similar to the ones he’d made when you’d first met him and he lacked the capacity to speak.

you know what he needs, and though the position is slightly awkward, you lean forward to lick and suck at his neck, prepping the skin before biting down hard enough to draw blood. the warm, tangy taste of iron fills your mouth as logan cries out, pumping his cum deep inside you as you keep up the pace, your own orgasm so close you can taste it.

lazily, logan brings one hand to rub circles on your clit, providing the exact pressure you need to have you clenching around him as you come.

you collapse onto his chest in the aftermath, enjoying the feel of his sweat-slick skin against yours. you press your fingers over the bite mark you’d made on his neck, pouting at the way it’s already begun to fade, his skin stitching itself back together.

“it takes much more energy when you’re the one doing all the work,” you say, breathless, waiting for your heart rate to slow and stabilise.

he hums, “but you looked good on top of me.”

you laugh, pressing your face into his chest, stifling the sounds with his skin. he runs his hands over your back, lingering on the curve of your ass. it’s intimate without being inherently sexual, appreciative without necessarily pushing for more.

“does that mean you liked it?” you ask after a few more moments of basking in the comfort of his embrace.

“i think i’d like anything as long as it’s with you,” he says, a vulnerable declaration for only the two of you to know, one that squirrels its way into your heart and hides behind your ribs along with every other lovely confession logan has made to you.

“i think i need more practice, so i can figure out how to work around your strength and hold you down,” it’s a throwaway comment, you’re spent and comfortable and used to being able to speak your mind around logan.

his grip on your ass tightens, squeezing the flesh, and his cock stirs where it's trapped between your bodies. his lack of refractory period still occasionally catches you off guard, as it does now, and you gasp at his obvious interest pressing into your stomach.

“think you have the energy for that practice now?”

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[ateliersss]

Oh, take me back to The Night we met

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Attempted Rape, SA, Murder, English isn't my first language Word Count: 10.162 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ Surprise! I hope you are surprised because I was starting to doubt myself. I actually believed I wouldn't even finish it this year. Anyways, I wrote the finishing 6.800 words in the last seven hours and my brain is mush. I hope it didn't affect the pace or logic of the plot. If so, I will edit it in a few days. Comments are always appreciated.

⇨ Also, if you tell me I wrote an unrealistic reaction to seeing a Yautja's face for the first time, let me tell you, you and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't reacted the same.

1936, Earth

"Thank you, ma'am." The soldier in front of you returned your identity card, the national animal printed on it facing you.

You returned his bright smile with a tight one. You were already used to identifying yourself to patrolling soldiers after work. It was for "safety measures", according to the government.

While you were busy putting away your identity card, the boy looked nervously over his shoulder to his comrade who nodded back to him, encouraging him to finally man up and just tell you what he had rehearsed a dozen times already to eventually make a move on you and ask you out.

"A-And thank you for your service, ma'am!" He blurted out, louder than he intended to, with a soft blush covering his cheeks.

You closed your purse and looked up at him in confusion.

The boy, you now noticed, had to be at least five years younger, probably around the same age as your younger brother, Emil. And you recognized him now, too. He was patrolling around this area two to three times a week.

At your confused face, he gestured a little awkwardly to your uniform, the white dress and blue-grey blouse underneath it. "D-Doctors and nurses are in desperate need in times like these a-and saving lives is a remarkable job!"

"Oh." You looked down at yourself before you pulled your coat tighter around your body and smiled softly at him. "If that's all, I'll take my leave now. Have a good night, gentlemen."

He visibly deflated at your words and mumbled a quick "Have a nice evening, ma'am." but you barely got half of it when you turned around to continue your way back home. The second your back was facing them, your smile dropped.

You hated it, hated this, this so-called life you and everyone around you had to live. Horrible and disgusting things were happening, but no one dared to speak up. You were all trapped, too scared to act, too afraid to do something.

And the people could feel it, the tension that was stretched so tautly that was just waiting to snap. The whole world was holding its breath, deferring that one moment when the match would ignite and reduce everything and everyone to rubble and ash.

Meanwhile, your brother was beaming with pride as he was now considered old enough to join the army and could finally fight for his country. On the other hand, your father, the only other family you still had in this world, was far more reluctant when it came to the plans of the government and his son's naive blindness of patriotism.

No one was talking about the horrifying wrongs your home country was doing for years now, but everybody knew, everybody saw. And if someone even dared to utter a word about it, they disappeared.

That didn't stop your father from ranting about it behind the closed doors of your home. He did so, of course, in Emil's absence. He was family, yes, but nowadays blind obedience could manipulate even a brother and son to go against his own kin.

You loved your brother dearly. He was a good guy and he only held a very strong pride for his home, his people, and his culture. But sadly that was the only thing he acknowledged around others. He denied the "rumors" of a genocide going on and overlooked unintentionally the more sinister motives of others in the world of politics and the military. He was truly and utterly blind, but you couldn't condemn him for that. Not really.

The Great War ended when Emil was three years old and you remembered him crying when your father told him he couldn't participate in it anymore. Ignorant of the horrors that happened at the Front, he and a few boys from around the neighborhood would play war and were disappointed when they were told it was over. The worst part was the elder men sitting on benches near their battlefield, telling them their people were the superior power since they had been able to hold their own against three opposing countries in the end.

You sighed and started to fumble around in your purse for your keys as you reached your destination. After a quick look into the mailbox — the usual evening newspaper and another flyer that encouraged men between the ages of twenty and forty-five to sign up for the military — you made your way up to the first floor and poked around in the lock with the key, a little distracted by the newspaper as you were searching the headlines for anything concerning. There was another report about a skinned man found hanging upside down from a church tower. Unbelievable. At times like this and there was a maniac running around, killing people in the most grotesque way for fun.

"I'm home!" You called into the dimly lit hallway, knowing your father was sitting in his usual spot in the living room.

After dropping your purse next to the wardrobe, toeing out of the white pumps, shrugging off the coat, and hanging it on the coat rack, you walked through the corridor and past five doors. The ones leading to the bathroom and the kitchen were open as always, just like the door of Emil's bedroom. Although it hadn't been inhabited for a few months now, you would always leave it open after cleaning. It was false reassurance, but that way it seemed as if he was still home.

"How was your day?" Your father asked gruffly from his spot on the wing chair, the morning newspaper still in his hand before it got replaced by the evening issue you handed to him with a kiss to his temple.

"It was…"

Screams.

Blood.

Wails of a newborn.

A cold body.

"…long."

"Mhm." Your father hummed, his eyes scanning the front page before turning it. "Hah! Sightings of another black cloud of smoke and the authorities tell the public another farmhouse burned down. Do they think we are stupid? Unbelievable these people! Think they will get away with it, hiding it from the public eye, and no one would notice!"

You weren't entirely sure if he had even listened to you, but you didn't care. You weren't very eager to start a conversation with him anyway.

"I'm in my room. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Though you didn't expect a response, you waited a few seconds — maybe today he would ask if his son had finally sent a letter — before you turned around to retreat to your room.

Since your father had lost his legs in a bomb attack at a munitions factory where he had worked during the Great War, he had changed. A lot. Before, he was quite a gentle and jovial man who worked hard and never shied away from showing how much he loved his family. Nowadays, he was resentful and bitter towards everything happening around him.

It was exhausting, not only listening to his complaints day in and day out but also being nothing more than a maid and caregiver to him. You were the sole breadwinner in this house. You worked yourself to the bone in a business that was equally about life and death but gave you more grief than joy. At least it made the medical care of your father a little easier. The surgery, the medicine, and the wheelchair would have cost you a fortune.

When you would get off work, more would await you at home. Taking care of the household was your responsibility for nine years now since your father wasn't capable of doing it anymore. After the first week of dusting and sweeping, washing the dirty laundry and ironing the clean ones, going grocery shopping and cooking, as well as taking care of your father like washing him, helping him get to the toilet, and such, you cried yourself to sleep with the thought of quitting and running away.

But you didn't.

You were miserable, yes, but you stayed. You stayed with the hope of a better life in the future. Maybe you will be married to a nice man in a few years like your girlfriends already were. You had experience with men, sure, but none of them you would consider fit to be your husband.

In your bedroom, you quickly got rid of your uniform until you were only in your undergarments, a baby-blue silk panty that flowed around your mid-thighs and an uplift brassiere of the same fabric and color, both with a lacy hemstitched design. You were about to throw the white and grey-blue dress into your other dirty clothes when you noticed red speckles on the left sleeve.

Yes, the day had been long, too long for your taste, and when your shift did end, you felt hollow once more. You could still see her in that bed, screaming and crying.

Watching her, you had wondered if you would ever end up like her.

You shifted in your place, second-guessing before you finally turned and looked at your reflection in the mirror that occupied one corner of your bedroom. You hesitantly lifted your hands and placed them on your belly.

No. Your job showed you women struggle and in pain every day. You would never do that to yourself. Being a mother was not worth the probability of taking your last breath during labor, giving your own life while granting another to your child.

Today was another reminder of that.

The girl in the delivery room, Johanna, was sweet and lively. You met her occasionally on a monthly check-up when you assisted the doctor who took her into his care. She would tell you about her and her husband trying for this baby for years and how excited she was.

You bit the inside of your cheek when tears once again started to well up in your eyes when you thought of how helpless you had felt when you stood in that room. Your colleague, an older and more experienced woman, was holding the crying newborn in her arms. The doctor was doing his all to save the unsavable while Johanna's body got colder as the dark red spot grew bigger on the white linen of the bed.

Today had shown you once again that you would never let something like that happen to you.

"You have to incise into her abdomen."

Not ever.

"No!"

Not in a million years.

"No, Mi'ytiar… you have to, you have to."

You would never put someone else's life before yours, not even the one of your never-going-to-happen baby.

"Save our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please."

Sighing, you got ready for bed. You were far too tired this evening to get anything done. The laundry had to wait until tomorrow and your father probably already had eaten, so there was no need to get to the store. For now, you needed to stop thinking.

A whole week passed and you had followed your everyday routine like every other day. Occasionally, when you walked past the room where Johanna had delivered her baby and made her husband a widower, you paused and stared. Instead of the freshly made bed and the stark white linen, you saw her dying as she bled out. You saw the doctor, yourself by his side and the nurse holding the baby at the foot of the bed.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see said nurse smiling pitifully at you.

"You are still there, right?" She asked softly, her eyes scanning your face.

You swallowed and nodded. "It's like that every time I come here. I don't know why. She's not the first I watched dying during childbirth."

The elderly woman patted your cheek and guided you away from the delivery room by the crook of your arm, pulling you away from the sorrowful abyss before you could drown any deeper in it.

"You liked her, that's why." She started, "I had a Johanna, too. A long, long time ago. Although she was a lot younger, she was just as excited to be a mother. Poor thing died just like her baby."

You gasped and now it was you who looked with pity at her. "Why?"

"The baby was stuck." The older nurse sighed, "She pushed and pushed and tore. By the time the doctor started to cut her open, she died of internal bleeding." She had to clear her throat before she continued, "The baby died with her. A little boy. He got himself tangled up in the umbilical cord."

You turned your gaze from her face down to the ground and watched your feet walk an unknown route. Swallowing down your tears, you forced yourself to concentrate on not stumbling over your own feet.

You did like Johanna. You had empathized with her, even though children would never be part of your life. She had just wanted a baby, a part of her and the man she loved united in one body, and all that she got was death. She hadn't deserved it. At least the thought that she might be together with her baby in heaven now, thanks to her belief in God, soothed your heart a little.

"Go home, (Y/N)." The elderly nurse interrupted your train of thought.

Looking up, you saw her holding up your purse and coat. Apparently, she had led you to the lounge where the doctors and nurses spent their lunchtime.

"But I still have six hours to go." You tried to argue but bit down your lower lip when she shook her head.

"If someone should ask for you, I will tell them you didn't feel well and that I sent you home. There are certain benefits as the head nurse." She winked at you, pushed your belongings into your hands, and shooed you in the direction of the exit.

"I promise I will feel better tomorrow." You called over your shoulder and waved at her, giving her one last smile before you shrugged on your coat and left.

Thirty-two minutes later, you got off the bus and turned around the corner into your street, your purse dangling back and forth on your wrist. With your extra five hours, maybe you could finally start that book on your bedside table if your dad wouldn't find any reason to turn your attention to him.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, you walked a little faster, already searching for the key. Like always, you checked the mailbox — nothing again — before you hopped up the one flight of stairs to your apartment, the sound of your heels on the wood filling the otherwise silent staircase.

The noise seemed to attract the woman living across from you because you barely reached the top of the stairs when she ripped her door open and stared at you with wide eyes.

You paused and looked at her in concern. "Mrs. Walter? Is everything okay?" You asked and carefully inched closer to her.

For several moments, you didn't get an answer. Only when you opened your mouth to ask her again did she slowly lift her trembling arm and point past you at something you could not see.

Strange. The only thing back there was your apartment door, so…

The slamming of Mrs. Walter's door barely reached your ears when you turned around. All you could hear was eerie silence, not Mrs. Walter quickly putting her distance between her and the door, not the dog barking from above you that got awakened by the slamming door, not the traffic noises outside.

The door that you diligently locked every morning before you got to work and unlocked every evening when you returned home hung on its hinges. In quick strides, you reached it and ripped off the note that was nailed into the wood under the peephole. Your eyes scanned over the words as you pushed the door open and entered the apartment.

A search was carried out here due to a tip-off of a conspiracy against the country and its people. All residents are requested to report immediately...

Tears clouded your view and made it impossible to make out the rest of the words. But there was no need to. You already knew what you needed to know. Your father was dead, no questions asked, no evidence to prove that he was innocent or guilty, no interference by the judiciary. He had dug his own grave since he started to badmouth and criticize the current sins committed by the government.

You slowly navigated your way through your destroyed home, your hands supporting yourself against the wall, careful not to get caught in something with your pumps. You had to duck under the big shelf close to the entrance of the living room. It was tilted to the side so that the upper part was now leaning against the other side of the wall. Everything that had ever been placed onto it — pictures, plants, certificates, and other little knick-knacks — was now scattered on the floor.

It got even worse in the living room. Everything had been turned upside down. Your father's chair was thrown to the side just like the couch and the coffee table. The books from the huge bookshelf that covered the length of the smallest wall in here were pulled out and tossed on the floor, pages ripped out and strewn on the floor. Pictures were taken from the walls and the glass crunched as you stepped over them. Dirt was covering the floor as if someone had been digging in the soil of the potted plants. The carpet was overturned, partly thrown onto the couch, and revealed the wooden floor it usually covered.

Your living room had been thoroughly searched and you doubted the rest of your home looked any different.

In a daze, you carelessly let your purse drop to the floor and shuffled to your bedroom. Opening the door, you were greeted with a view you had expected — your bed was tilted to the side, clothes from your closet were now scattered on the floor, and your mirror was lying face down on the floor.

When you saw the pictures of you and your family carelessly thrown into the corner, you couldn't hold the sob in any longer. You sank to your knees, curled into a ball, and cried to your heart's content with your eyes squeezed shut.

You lost your mother at a young age, lost your father for the first time after his accident, lost your brother to the country, and now lost your father for the second and final time. Now, you were wholly and utterly alone. Not for long, though. If you didn't come forward and turn yourself into a possible fair trial in the next sixteen hours, you would be taken just like your father and die the same way he did.

Your breakdown had been apparently so nerve-wracking and tiring that when you opened your eyes, it was dark inside your room and outside your window. Groggily, you propped yourself up and looked around, disappointedly ascertaining that you hadn't been dreaming at all. Your eyes scanned your room, still a little out of it, until you spotted your clock on the wall, surprisingly intact. 9:24 PM. Now you had less than ten hours left.

How would you spend your last ten hours in freedom? You didn't know, but you for sure wouldn't do it in here. You needed to leave.

As quick as you could you switched your nurse uniform to a skirt and your favorite blouse, fixed your make-up and your hair to look less like a mess and more like the respectable woman you usually were, and left the apartment after putting on your shoes, coat and grabbed your purse. At first, you strolled around with no real destination in mind, but the darker it got the higher the risk of being stopped by a patrolling soldier.

You had enough money with you to occupy yourself with a few drinks, so why not enjoy yourself, let a little loose? You never really got the chance to try it out. Your job unironically prevented you from unnecessarily damaging your liver and you had the responsibility to take care of your family. Your girlfriends always invited you on girl's night, but sadly, you had to decline almost every time, be it your father or another night shift forced upon you. They had another planned on the weekend in a few days, the first one in a very long time you would have had time for. Not anymore. When they would sit around a table and share the newest gossip, you had already started to rot away in a mass grave.

You entered the first, non-shady-looking bar and plopped down on one of the bar stools on the right. When the bartender finally took notice of you, all he needed to do was to take in your gloomy figure pitifully slumped in your seat to grab a glass and fill it with a brown liquid. No words were spoken — you didn't feel like it and he noticed that — as you grabbed the glass, tossed the liquor back, and placed the now empty glass back down. The alcohol, whatever it was, burned like hell and you couldn't help but cough, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The bartender, meanwhile, wordlessly filled your glass again and without any hesitation, you emptied that one too.

You spend almost four hours like that. Losing count after your sixth shot, your head started to feel funny, like the world around you was spinning too fast. You mused what your life would have been like if your mother hadn't died when you were just nine years old, if your father hadn't lost his legs when you were seventeen, if your brother had chosen a normal job at your current age. You could have grown up like any normal girl, could have joined your friends more often to hang out, could have started going on dates again after your last boyfriend dumped you for neglecting him.

And what about your future? What about the man you wanted to marry in a few years? Every day, you daydreamed of someone who would just sweep you away in his arms and take you far, far away from here. There had to be a place somewhere where you could live your life in peace without a brewing war and the constant fear of death. You waited for someone who would make your life easier than it currently was, who would take the weight from your shoulders and not add some more on them every single day. Someone who loved you passionately and would spoil you after nine years of labor where you worked yourself to the bone. Someone who would take charge and let you rest when you needed it. Someone who was the other half of your soul that hopelessly awaited to be rejoined with its counterpart.

When you reached out to your glass for the nth time, a hand softly clasped your wrist. Looking up, you saw the bartender giving you the same pitiful look you had received for God knows how often today, from your colleague at the hospital to some of the other patrons who entered and left the bar during the last few hours.

"I think you should get home." He said firmly and pulled his hand away.

No longer being hindered, you lifted the glass up to your lips and emptied it in one go. "I no longer have a home." You dully answered, your speech a little slurred.

"We close in a few minutes." He tried another route, anything to get you to stop drinking.

He may not be interested in what personal business you have to drink yourself under the table, but even he wouldn't let a young woman like you do that to herself.

"Fine." You mumbled, grabbed your purse, and searched for the money that was stored somewhere in there. You hummed when you finally found it and without looking at it, you dropped it down on the counter. "Here."

You held onto the sleek surface of the bar to lift yourself up and from your seat, supporting your whole weight with one hand while you needed several attempts to grab your coat. Not bothering to put it on, you turned to leave and even you were surprised that you could still walk in a (more or less) straight line.

"Hey, you paid too much!" The bartender called from behind you.

Not bothering to stop or turn around, you simply proclaimed, "Keep it. Where I go I won't need it." and pushed the entrance door open.

Outside, you tilted your head up, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It instantly freshened you up and cleared your mind a little. Looking left and right along the sidewalk, you decided to take the left and began strolling wherever it was taking you, once again with no actual destination in mind. You had no idea what time it was, but you guessed you had around five or six hours left. If you're lucky and didn't get held up by some patrols, you could visit the park one last time where your parents, Emil and you would hold a picnic every summer when you were younger. It would only take you ten minutes on foot. It wouldn't hurt to visit the place that held so many good childhood memories and bask in them in your final hours.

You were walking for a mere two minutes when you heard a whistle from your right. Halting your steps, you turned your head to the side and looked over to the source. There, on the other side of the street, were two men sitting on a bench and two standing around them. One was holding a beer bottle while the others were smoking their cigarettes.

"Hey, pretty lady." The one with the beer bottle called over to you and lifted it to toast to you.

You quickly snapped your head back forward and continued on your way, your strides bigger and faster to create as much distance between you and them as possible.

When you thought you were safe, you felt a hand clasping your wrist whose owner pulled you back and against his strong chest.

"Hey, hey, hey." The voice of the man with the beer bottle breathed against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. "Don't be shy. We were just celebrating my friend's promotion." To your horror, he put his hands on your hips and turned you both to his three companions who had seemingly followed him, all of them wearing leering grins. "Why don't you join us, hm? We could need a little entertainment." He murmured against your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Before he could place his lips anywhere close to your skin, you struggled out of his grip and stumbled a few steps away from him. "I-I'm sorry, but I need to go home. I'm already late."

The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch stepped closer to you, smirking when you accidentally walked right into one of his friends. The guy immediately held you against him, keeping you in place.

"I think you could spare a couple of minutes." The leader said firmly and reached for your blouse.

Fear seemed to be a great way to quickly sober one up because the next thing you did was stomp down on the foot of the man that was holding you, your heel hitting his toe perfectly, causing him to let you go with a cry in pain and a curse. Next, you rammed your knee into the crotch of the man in front of you and when his body doubled over, you pushed him to the side and bolted down the sidewalk.

Not daring to look back, you sprinted as fast as you could, but the alcohol made it hard to keep balance, not to mention the nausea that bubbled up in your stomach. But you ignored it and tried to keep it down when you heard their calls from behind you, coming closer and closer.

This was not how you wanted to spend your last night, this was not how you imagined it. Tears clouded your view and you narrowly escaped the grabby hand of whatever guy that was closest to you when you ducked down and sharply took a left turn into an alley.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.

The next thing you felt was hard concrete as you fell forward when a heavyweight collided with your back. You cried out in pain when you hit your head, then hysterically screamed in panic when you felt hands on your skirt and you started kicking around, not caring if you hit something or not. You heard a grunt when your heel finally made contact with the shoulder of one of them, but you barely had time to bask in your little victory when a punch to your face almost knocked you out cold. Your body went instantly slack, a long-winded groan leaving your mouth.

"Move your ass and hold her down." The voice of the leader sounded from somewhere above you. "And turn her around. I like to watch their face when they give up."

Hands turned you on your back as your screams and cries accompanied your attempts to fight their hands off.

"No… please no." You begged as your wrists were pinned above your head by a pair of rough hands. "No!" You screamed louder, in a high-pitched, panicking voice when your blouse was ripped open, your brassiere following suit, and your chest got groped by a calloused hand.

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt an eager mouth around your nipple, harshly sucking on it while your breasts were still in a painfully hard grasp. You tried to gather your last strength, the drinks earlier and then the hit to your head from the fall tempted you to just fall unconscious, but you bucked your body up in hopes you could throw whoever was above you off of you.

Only you couldn't move. Someone was straddling your thighs, hindering you from moving.

You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and the blurry image of the leader pushing up your skirt presented itself in front of you.

"Stop, please! Help!" You started screaming again, causing the leader to sigh in annoyance.

"Could you please shut her up, for fuck's sake? I'm trying to enjoy myself here." He growled at the guy who was holding your hands down, his patience growing thinner with every passing moment he wasn't able to force himself inside you. "When I'm done with her, you get what's left of her."

"No, no, no..." You wailed when you heard the clinking of his belt and a zipper being opened, but you soon got silenced when a palm pressed down on your mouth.

Rather than keep watching him, you closed your eyes in defeat, now only feeling how he moved closer to your crotch, his fingers pushing your underwear aside, and positioned himself against your entrance.

A dull thud behind your attackers stilled them for a moment, but a raging roar got them to whip around. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever feral animal was going to maul you and those men.

A scream, something wet splashing on you and something, someone, heavy landing on top of you got you to finally open your eyes again. You stared right into a gaping hole where the head of a person normally should be. Maybe it was the shock of almost ending up left on the ground in this alley, covered in bruises, blood and bodily fluids after they were done with you, that kept you from screaming.

In a daze, you pushed the corpse off of you and looked down at your body. It was covered in blood, parts of a splattered brain, and white fragments that had been the skull of the leader of the group. His head had burst into pieces. No animal could have done that and no human either. There was no weapon on earth with that much destructive power, so what…

With slow eyes, you looked up from your soiled legs. The guy now lying dead next to you had been obscuring the view of a large creature standing no more than three meters across from you.

Whatever it was, it seemed livid. Its body was heaving with wrathful breaths and its long fingers were twitching, clenching into fists before relaxing them again. Its massive form was hidden by darkness and you could barely make out its silhouette.

It felt like an eternity with you just staring at the creature and it (probably) staring right back. The other assaulters, two of whom had fallen to the ground in shock with the sudden attack on their leader, hadn't dared to move a muscle. Maybe they were in a trance just as you were, not for the same reason, of course.

"H-Hey!" The fourth guy squeaked, breaking the tension that seemed to suffocate the whole alley. "Wha-"

In a practiced, seemingly effortless movement, the creature whipped out its arm, and something silvery shot out of the darkness. It wrapped around the throat of the man, choking him and sending him to his knees. He was clawing his neck and tried to remove what seemed to be a whip made out of sleek silver and grey material. 

You watched him as he desperately tried to free himself and blood started to flow from where the whip was wrapped around his neck down to his shirt, turning the light blue fabric deep red. Your eyes then traveled along the bladed chain, you now noticed, to the other end of it, and found the large creature moving towards you.

If you would have been able to make a sound, you would have, but you were still too out of it that no noise escaped your bloody lips when you were finally able to distinguish your savior. 

It was indeed huge, a massive body that was dwarfing any human being you could think of. Its appearance was bizarre. Its feet and calves up to its knees were in unusual boots made out of metal instead of leather with an interesting design. You wondered if it was the skin of the creature or if it was wearing a net-like cloth that was visible on every body part that wasn't hidden beneath armor like the chest plate that bled over into a full sleeve of its arm. It was covering the left side of its chest but not enough to conceal a rather fit upper body. You found yourself staring a lot longer at the well-defined, almost sculpted abs of it. It was no doubt a male.

As you were eyeing the creature up, he yanked on the whip. You were only aware of a dull thud when the bladed chain cut off the head of the man who had been in its hold. 

You didn't register when more blood sprinkled on you as you were too busy trying to imagine a face underneath that strange mask. With his green, brownish, and beige reptilian skin, the long black tendrils sprouting from the head, the long claws, and the animalistic posture, he was, without a doubt, not human. 

An arm wrapping around your throat from behind, preventing you from breathing evenly, brought you back to reality. You immediately put up a fight, scratching it and pulling on the arm in hopes he would let go.

It was one of the attackers that had fallen to the ground when the creature had appeared. He must have scrambled over to you when his last companion was foolishly enough to run up to the murderous beast, trying to do something quite laughable, only to be impaled by a spear and was now hanging on the wall to the right like he was a portrait above a chimney, the spear rammed through the brick of the apartment building.

The idiot behind you thought the creature would let him go if he was holding you hostage as if he wasn't going to kill the both of you just like his buddies. So foolish, you internally sighed.

"S-S-Stop! I'm warning you!" He screamed at the towering figure which was closing in on you. "I will… I will kill her!"

The creature stopped a few steps away from you and reached behind his back. Quicker than your eyes could keep up, his hand shot forward and he threw something of the size of an orange at the man.

Yelling, the man loosened his grip, his instincts kicking in to fight against whatever was sticking to his forehead. In his struggle, he fell on his back and started rolling around on the floor when the little device made a strange wiring noise. His body went stock still when he was engulfed in a net, restraining him. Then the man screamed bloody murder when the wiring noise grew louder and the device pulled the net tighter around him.

You turned to him, only to see the strings cutting into his skin, drawing blood, until only pieces of his body were left of him, leaving him unidentifiable to whoever would find him and his friends.

Now, it was only you in that alley. You, the beast that saved you and the bloody massacre, turning the place into an image of horror.

You were going to get sick if you stared at what had been a living and breathing human once any longer. Rather than wanting to face the creature when it was going to kill you, you turned back around and then startled back. Said beast was crouching in front of you, the head cocked to the side.

He reached out a clawed hand and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever gruesome death he had planned for you. You thought back to everything you had achieved in your life, every person that was still dear to you, said goodbye to every place you loved to visit, to the movie you had wanted to watch in a week with a friend, to the unread book on your bedside table and every dream you had wanted fulfill — you had actually planned to do that in a few hours. At least he was going to give you a quick death and not whatever the authorities had done to your father.

Something poked your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a closer view of the strange mask covering the creature's face. His hand was outstretched and a finger was prodding your skin. A strange noise was coming from behind the mask, something you could only describe as a rumbling purr. 

You stayed still, afraid if you would only move a muscle, it would set the creature off and let him drag his clawed finger up to your temple where a trail of blood had started to run from the wound you got from the fall. You hissed in pain when the pad of his thumb stroked — probably unintentionally hard — over your lower lip, the rough skin touching where it was busted. He pulled its thumb away only to replace it with the back of his pointer and middle finger to caress your jaw and down to your throat. The touch caused you to swallow which he most likely could feel. Only when you felt the scaly sensation on your skin dip too deep, too far beneath the ripped remains of your blouse, you gripped his wrist.

The creature's head snapped up where it had followed his exploration. You flinched back at the sudden movement and quickly loosened your hold on his wrist, pulling it away like you had burnt yourself.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, your voice hoarse.

What if you had just signed your death? What if you touching him like that had triggered him? What if he thought you were a threat now? What if he thought of it as highly offensive? What if he was going to kill you now? What if-

A low thump caused you to flinch when he hit the left side of his chest with his right fist. With parted lips, you looked from his fist up to his masked face and then back again, confused, both at the gesture and the lack of aggression towards you. Almost as if he could understand the look on your face, he repeated the action with a little more determination after he inched closer to you. You were more focused on his sudden closeness, daring not to move back, but you hastily turned your gaze down to his fist. It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was trying to tell you after the vast change of demeanor — from murdering in cold blood to trying to… communicate with you?

"You?" You tried hesitantly.

It really was your best guess on what he could mean.

A soft growl reached your ears from underneath his mask, making you tense up but relaxed in relief the second his attention turned to his forearm. You watched in curiosity as his clawed pointer finger ghosted over the armor-like wristband that started flashing in a bright red and made strange beeping noises like when a caller on the other line hung up before you could. Your mouth opened without you even noticing. You had never seen something like it, probably no one ever had. How was it functioning without cables like your telephone and radio did?

"Are you telling me you are married?"

You jumped back a little when a male voice chimed from his wristband.

"To a cup of tea, I will never say no."

"I can't believe you put the jar in the oven!"

You looked at him in astonishment as more voices sounded from his forearm. Human voices.

He kept repeating the same three sentences, but they seemed to get shorter with every replay.

“-telling me you are… telling me… me.”

"-a cup of tea… tea."

“-you put the jar in the… you put the jar… the jar… jar.”

He seemed to be satisfied as he let out a deep, low-pitched chirp before he played the cut and put together word snippets to you, his head facing you now.

“Me-tea-jar.” He hit his chest once again before playing the word again. “Me-tea-jar.”

"Meetja?" You tried the word, tried how it felt on your tongue.

He let out a deep grumble before he played the same word again and leaned even closer to you.

“Me-tea-jar.”

"M-Meetiar. Mi'ytiar."

With his head slightly cocked to the side, he tilted it forward in a one-movement nod as if to say, "Now you got it." and his fist hit his chest one last time.

"You. Mi'ytiar. T-That's your name?" You asked and hoped you put the puzzle pieces together correctly.

Another nod before he pointed at you.

"Oh." You softly said, shifted your hips slightly, and nervously placed a hand on your own chest. “(Y/N). I'm (Y/N)."

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounded from his forearm when he touched his wristband. “(Y/N).”

You couldn't help the small smile and you nodded. "Yes. (Y/N)."

The creature — Mi'ytiar — lowly grumbled in appreciation and you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs with a laugh. You couldn't believe you talked, more or less, to something that undoubtedly didn't belong on earth while you were surrounded by death after being spared from something that would have scarred you for life just because you had been out drinking to have one last night in freedom until you would follow your father in an early grave. Your life really had taken a strange turn in just a few hours.

"What are you?" You asked him and tilted your head to the side.

"Hunter." He communicated with the help of his wristband.

"Where do you come from?"

"Sky."

"Sky." You repeated the child's voice and looked up.

So he came from the sky. You wondered if he meant the clouds or maybe the moon. It could be the stars for all you knew. Was he the only one living there, or were there more? Maybe one like him lived on each star the night sky had to offer.

As you were looking up in thought, Mi'ytiar took his time to admire you. You were, what you humans would use, adorable. He didn't hunt humans very often as they weren't much of a challenge, but sometimes he would visit earth out of curiosity. Your kind was interesting and his ancestors had been quite fond of them when they used them to breed their prey centuries ago. Humans have continuously developed from then to now, so it was fascinating to watch.

Like he watched you now. He admired your wide eyes, the curve of your nose, and your rosy cheeks that displayed the dried tear streaks of panic and fear. He admired the shape of your lips and the cut that had caused you pain when he touched it. He admired your shiny hair that had once been pulled up in a neat bun but was now hanging loosely and messily around your face, framing it like it was a piece of art. He admired your small, shaking hands that were desperately holding the ripped-open blouse together, protecting your modesty and the naked skin of your trembling shoulders when the fabric had slipped down to your biceps. You had been so incredibly warm and soft when he had touched what you were hiding now.

A quiet hiss got you to look back at him and you watched with uncertainty as his fingers first pulled on the one tube that was connected to his mask and then the other before he removed it anxiously slow. You mentally prepared yourself for the most horrific sight of your life, but when the top half of his face was laid bare, you sucked in a breath. It wasn't the foreign shape of his head, the texture of his skin, or the spiky triangle-shaped bumps that circled the sides and the back of his head like a crown, clearly dividing where the roots of his hair ended and his face started. It was his eyes, though an abnormal orange, that was salient and captivating you. They didn't look like what your wildest fantasies had to offer, but they somewhat seemed almost human — a black pupil surrounded by an orange iris. And not just any orange. It was the kind of orange that stretched across the sky at every sunrise and sunset. The only difference you spotted from your own eyes was that he had a black sclera instead of a white one.

You would have gotten lost in them if he hadn't removed the mask fully, so his lower face was showing too. You wouldn't exactly describe it as terrifying, but the sight of his mouth was, to say it simply, unnerving. It was hidden behind four tusks that represented his mandibles. You were fascinated when he suddenly made a clicking noise but were taken aback when he extended the fleshy texture to reveal two rows of teeth. It was like he had two jaws, one when the mandibles were retracted to his face and one when they were extended and showed his actual mouth. His upper jaw held three teeth with two larger fangs on each side, his lower jaw held the same amount only were they a little thinner, so his fangs wouldn't hinder his mouth from closing.

Even after the initial shock subsided, you wouldn't exactly use the word pretty, but there was something about him. Thrilling and particular, astounding and intriguing, but also alluring.

The longer you looked at him, at Mi'ytiar, the more accustomed you got to his appearance.

Another clicking sound reached your ears and you stopped mapping his features with your eyes, only now realizing how he looked down at you with his head tilted to the side. When you mumbled his name, almost as if it took all your courage, he straightened up and his eyes snapped to your hand that had loosened its grip on your blouse. He followed its movement, getting closer to his face, and when you turned your hand so your palm was facing him, his own hand reacted fast and grabbed your delicate wrist.

Bad idea, real bad idea, you thought. He wasn't exactly hurting you, but his grip wasn't exactly soft.

Instead of tugging against his hold in an attempt to free yourself that would obliviously fail, you let your arm go slack. Instead of panicking, you remained calm. Instead of screaming at him to let you go, you kept your mouth shut and waited for his next move. If you triggered him in any way, he would surely kill you.

Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, was amazed by you and in awe. He wouldn't be the first Yautja to be enthralled with a human in this kind of way, sure, but he hadn't expected to be one of them one day. You were extraordinary in the way you looked at him, didn't mind the proximity he had put you in, and apparently seemed to seek for it.

Contrary to what you believed, he pulled your hand closer to his face by the wrist, causing you to move from your side-sit on the floor to get on your knees. Your lips parted in surprise when he pulled his mandibles in and he himself brought your hand up to his cheek.

The sensation underneath your touch was unusual and new. His cheek wasn't like that of a human when you would press the fat until you could feel the jaw bone. It was springy, considering it was only a fleshy layer that covered his mouth. You moved your hand down to his outer jaw, which consisted of his mandible, and followed its length with your palm. You could feel the firm muscle and bone and gave it a gentle, experimental squeeze. Almost automatically, he made a soft purring noise like that one of a cat and you blushed at the possibility that he was enjoying the caress.

You, of course, had no idea that you were touching a highly sensitive part of his anatomy and would be alive to tell the tale afterward.

Just as you were curious about him, he was eager to explore you as well. Carefully, he reached out and through the ripped-open front of your blouse. Seconds later, his palm made contact with your stomach and he could feel how you tensed up. He looked up into your eyes, but when he found nothing that indicated that you despised his touch, his hand ran along to your waist and down to your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your belly. It was strange how you could feel his thumb near your navel and, at the same time, his other fingers on your lower back, taking the width of your hip like it was nothing.

The both of you were too busy in your explorations that you had grown ignorant to your surroundings, so when a scream filled the previously quiet alley, you grabbed his extended arm, not to push it away but to hold onto it in panic, while Mi'ytiar whirled his head around to the two outlines standing near the street at the end of the alley. Your body was hidden by his massive one, so it looked like a monster was kneeling among his freshly killed victims, basking in the glory of his crime.

Mi'ytiar's mandibles flared and the guttural roar that left his lungs made you cling to him in fear. Not of him, but the consequences that you would have to face if those who had stumbled upon this scene without context would call for the patrolling soldiers. You heard more screams and hastily retreating footsteps as the couple ran as if their lives depended on it.

Large hands grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, and you had barely time to hold onto him before he started climbing up the metal scaffolding of the balconies of the apartment building, jumping up and landing on the roof. With an arm secure around your waist, he jumped and ran further and further away.

And you let him.

2024, Yautja Prime

"What you smiling for?"

And all of a sudden, those purred words were taking you from your past life to your current one. You hadn't even noticed you had stopped drawing random figures and forms on Mi'tyiar's naked chest. At some point, you had started daydreaming with that far-away look in your eyes and a smile slowly making its way on your lips as you were lying on him, between his legs.

"Just thought of the night we met." You drawled lazily and rubbed your cheek against his reptilian-like skin. "My hero in shining alien amour."

"My amour does not shine."

Now you had to laugh. Sometimes, you couldn't help yourself when he was so bluntly clueless. Humans and their analogies were oh-so confusing.

"It's a human saying, my love." You explained as you crossed your arms on his wide chest and rested your chin on them. "A male who saves a female from danger. A male who would sacrifice himself so the female can get away without harm."

Mi'ytiar reached towards your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek before he dragged it over your lower lip. You were dreamingly looking up at him, basking in his loving touch. You were placing your hand on his and turned your head to the side so you could pepper his palm with light kisses.

He couldn't help his body's reaction, he just couldn't. He was starved of your touch.

You suddenly stopped your sweet kisses when you felt something big poking your stomach. You looked down, although you could only see how your breasts were pressed against him, before you looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You are insatiable." You smirked and hoisted yourself up after placing one last kiss between his pecs.

You straddled his midriff but left enough space between you and him so you could reach underneath your body and grab his semi-hard cock. Even at this size, you had a little trouble fully embracing it and getting your fingertips to touch.

You hissed when you felt the familiar sting of his sharp mandibles and teeth digging into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and offered him more access. Mi'ytiar let out a feral growl when your blood finally hit his tongue. He relished in it, tasting so sweet, just like the rest of you.

Grasping your hips with both of his hands, his claws scratching your delicate skin, he pushed them down to his crotch.

He needed you again, needed to be so deep inside you, so he could see the bulge of his cock forming in your tummy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap up, barely missing your entrance and dragging his cock through your sopping wet folds that were covered with your combined releases from your last mating moments ago. It elicited a whiny moan and a wiggle of your hips.

"Stop teasing, tanhì. Put it in." You groaned and started rubbing yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, coating it with your mixed cum that was still leaking from your hole.

Mi'ytiar wrapped a large arm around you and started to get up, his other arm supporting himself to manhandle you on your back to be on top. The second your hazy mind registered what he was doing, you placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back down. You preened when his body immediately went slack, allowing you to do as you pleased with him.

He was staring up at you with flashing eyes. You didn't take the lead very often, preferring it to be dominated by your mate, but when you did, he was gladly giving you the power you wanted.

The first time you had tried to be on top, it had gone from steamy to ugly pretty quickly. You had been on your back when you tried to push him and switch your position, but since he had been unmovable like a rock, you had untangled yourself from him and told him to lie back. You were straddling his hips, humping his hardening cock for exactly thirty seconds before he flipped you over and on your back again. You had then mewled and tried to push him back once more, causing him to growl. For your attitude, he bit roughly into your throat, hoping it would keep you submissive. You let out a cry and hit his chest with both of your fists. This time, Mi'ytiar showed you his displeasure more vocally when he slammed his flat hands next to both sides of your head and roared right into your face. Safe to say, it scared the living daylights out of you and caused you to escape his caging arms. He, of course, followed you quickly and tried to amend his outburst with purrs and snuggles rather than words.

The next time you were on top, he vehemently focused on staying seated on the edge of your nest with you on his lap as you rode him with his helping hands on your hips. His eyes strayed from the spot where his cock was disappearing inside of you, to the bulge in your stomach that grew and shrunk with every movement, to your bouncing breasts, to your pleasure-contorted face.

After that, he couldn't get enough of you being on top.

The same was the case now as you slowly inserted his throbbing cock into your-

A wail broke the sensual atmosphere, causing the both of you to jerk your heads to the doorway connecting the room to the rest of your home. With your maternal instincts kicking in, you practically jumped up from your mate, his half-inside cock slipping from your tight heat, and ran to the room where the sound was coming from.

Mi'ytiar slumped back with a displeased grunt. He loved his pup dearly, truly he did, but he hadn't been able to mate with you for an eternity — five months, double the time the healer had advised you to keep from being intimate with each other after the pregnancy because a certain someone had been overly cautious with you — and his cock throbbed painfully at that sorrowful thought.

He got up from the nest and followed the direction you had run off to. Your five-month-old pup was sleeping alone in his room for only a short part of his life. Before that, his crib had been standing next to the nest in your room, quickly accessible and in reach should he need any sort of attention. Now, he was sleeping in his big brother's former nursery, which you had lovingly prepared when you had been pregnant with Akail, your first pup.

Mi'ytiar watched you standing in front of the crib in the middle of the room, your back to him, as you rocked the whiny pup in your arms. The wholesome thoughts of his beautiful mate taking such good care of his youngling quickly turned into an animalistic need to breed you once more when his eyes trailed over your curves that had gotten bigger after bearing his second son. They fixed on your legs where trails of semen were running down your skin from between your inner thighs.

He was faster by your side than you would expect from a being of his size. He pressed his bare body against your own, hands on your hips pulling you closer, his cock digging into your back. Mi'ytiar bent down to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, purring lowly.

"He was just hungry." You whispered as you watched your pup falling back to sleep.

Bending over, you placed your little one back into his crib, careful not to disturb him. You had to bite your lip when you felt Mi'ytiar pull you back against his crotch to rub himself against your ass. All you needed to do was push your ass back into him for him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and turn to leave your son's nursery.

Giggling, you looked back to the pup's crib and whispered, "Dream of the stars, my little Toyah." before you got carried back to your nest.

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[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

Unraveled Pretenses ◈ Pairing: Zhongli x Fox Spirit Reader ◈ Contains: mentions of yin/yang, wonky mythology, feeding urges, monthly werewolf-like behaviors ◈ Wordcount: 1911

Unbeknownst to the rest of Liyue, the retired Geo Archon was living among them, pretending to be a human, trying his very best to blend in. He's confident in his disguise since nobody's confronted him yet on what his true identity is. His days of descending on this city as a dragon are long over and now he simply enjoys leisurely strolls along the harbor as an unassuming consultant of a funeral parlor.

You were a young and curious fox spirit who after hundreds of years, finally gained the ability to transform into human form. Of course your first destination would be to visit the dazzling city by the harbor, full of colorful lanterns and the joyful sounds of its human crowds. You bump into a handsome man with the most striking amber eyes. His gaze lingers, causing your heart to quicken. He smiles and utters an apology.

"Are you lost?" He asks you. "I couldn't help but notice you wandering along the pier. Are you perhaps looking for someone?"

"No, I'm actually not from around here." You quickly reply.

With that admission, the kind man took it upon himself to be your tour guide. He introduced you to many of Liyue's prominent shops and even brought you to an inn where he requested a room for you to stay when you told him you didn't have anywhere to stay the night. The problem was, you had no mora on you.

"I see..." He coughed, realizing that he also didn't bring any mora. "Please place it on the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's tab."

Since he was the first friend you made in this unfamiliar city, it never occurred to you how strange Zhongli was. You assumed many things about humans based on your own observations of him. He was fascinating, with his endless stream of stories. You learned so much about humans from just listening to him ramble about the city. He also asked his employer if you could help out at the funeral parlor. Humans worked to receive mora, which they purchased things with. Nothing was free here, unlike in the mountains. You eventually needed to repay Zhongli for all the kindness he's shown you. That's what a human would do. Even though he put everything on the Wangsheng tab, you found out that all of that mora he spent on you was ultimately going to be deducted from his own paycheck. You might be a fox spirit masquerading as a human, but you weren't an ungrateful prick. Fox spirits get a bad reputation in this part of Liyue because of their tendencies to steal from and trick humans, but those were usually farmers who regularly left out animal traps. Fox spirits weren't as devious as they're rumored to be.

What was originally supposed to be a quick trip to satisfy your curiosity about humankind turned into a prolonged stay. You had become a resident of Liyue harbor. Your friend Zhongli was now your neighbor and you regularly stayed over until late, drinking tea or wine with him. It was your first time drinking during a full moon, when yin energies were at their strongest. Your human appearance relied on your stockpile of yang energy that you had slacked on replenishing while you stayed in the city. In a panic, you rushed out of the courtyard and into the streets before Zhongli could return with another bottle of heated wine. You only had one human friend in this city and you couldn't let him see you with fur sprouting out of your skin and a tail dragging behind you under your skirt. It would frighten and disgust him. You remembered all the stories you heard about fox spirits, sinister creatures who take the form of seductive vixens to lure impressionable human victims into dark alleys to feed off their yang energy.

Your body grew weaker the further you ran. The moon loomed overhead like an omen, silently mocking you for pretending to be something you were not. Yang energy, where would you get yang energy? Panic coursed through your body as your eyes scanned the streets. There was scarcely any people loitering around at this hour aside from drunkards. The thought repulsed you, but your yang deficiency drove you towards a lone figure laying against a wall up ahead. It was risky to feed off humans, especially in a city like Liyue where prominent exorcists reside. You could be caught and killed. Your pelt would be made into a luxury rug to be sold off to a rich collector. You didn't live hundreds of years to end up as somebody’s rug.

The only other option was to find a place and hide, enduring the crippling hunger pangs until the full moon went away. With how weak your body was getting, you weren't even sure if you could make it out of the city and into the forest before you passed out.

"There you are. I wondered where you wandered off to." A familiar voice sounded from behind you just as you were about to collapse.

"Zhongli?" You managed to say, head spinning as your body was lifted off the ground. "Wait..."

You didn't have to look in the mirror to know that you probably looked hideous with your human form slipping. You could see your claws instead of fingernails as you raised your hands to encircle Zhongli's neck. Your tail swung from side to side as he walked with you in his arms.

For some reason, ever since he scooped you up, your hunger pangs diminished. You still felt extremely weak due to the lack of yang energy, but at least you weren't lightheaded anymore. The tuffs of fur that had sprouted up along your arms disappeared and it seemed like your claw were shifting back into fingernails. Was it Zhongli?

"You don't look scared." You noted curiously.

"Should I be?" He smiled down at you as he made his way back through his front gate. His door opened for him as if a ghost had pulled it open. Zhongli set you down gently on his chaise.

You realized how unusual your friend's reaction to your appearance was. For Archon's sake, you had a furry tail! Humans don't have tails. He was too calm, too collected.

"When did you know?"

He chuckled, handing you a piping hot cup of tea. It smelled a bit strange, but the scent seemed to help ease your symptoms.

"Ever since I laid my eyes on you." Zhongli admitted. "You have a distinct aura about you that humans do not possess."

"I didn't think it'd be this bad." You glanced up at the moon through his window, a bit conflicted.

"You are safe here. Nobody besides me will know about your secret." He assured you. "If you need it, I can help you request for a few days off from the funeral parlor."

"There's something else..." You trailed off, catching yourself before you said something inappropriate.

Zhongli was already doing so much for you despite not being under any obligation to. You already decided to endure the hunger pangs until the full moon was over and now he had provided a safe place for you to do that. You shouldn't ask for anything more from him.

"Do you still feel unwell?" He furrowed his brow, leaning over you and placing a palm against your cheek. You were awfully cold to the touch. "It seems that the red ginseng was not potent enough. Perhaps I should consult Baizhu to see if there is something more effective for replenishing yang energy."

Your eyes widened at his words. How does a human know so much about what you're going through? For the first time since you've met him, it suddenly struck you how unusual this man was. Perhaps you had simply spent too much time with him. Proximity renders the eyes blurry.

"That's not really needed." You couldn't let him get another person involved in your ordeal.

"Indeed. It looks like my presence has been able to keep your symptoms at bay. Perhaps..." He suddenly paused, clearing his throat. "May I propose something?"

"Hm?" You raised a brow.

"A contract." He said softly. "You do not have to agree to it if you do not wish to. I am simply offering you a solution if you wish to avoid this sort of affliction in the future."

Your mind raced through all the possible solutions he could possibly be alluding to and realizing there could only be one that involved his help. Suddenly the room got a little hotter, or was it your face? You drew in an anxious breath.

"I trust you didn't wish to harm any humans because of this condition of yours. If you did, I would not have found you in the state I found you in. Consider it... my gratitude. You need not worry. If you were to feed off me, it would not affect me as severely as it would a human."

"You say that like you're not human."

"I never said I was human." He chuckled, reaching out and petting your furry ears. "That, my dear, was something you assumed of me."

Your shocked expression seemed to cause him great amusement.

"What are you then?"

"If you really must know, I suppose I can show you." He sighed. "It would only be fair since I am seeing you as you are now."

Zhongli's body began to shift, growing a bit taller. Brilliant golden scales scattered along his skin and a long scaly brown tail extended from behind him, ending in swirls of gold. Your eyes widened when two crystalline horns sprouted from the top of his head, gold like cor lapis. You were speechless for a good minute or two, unable to look away. Zhongli was no human for sure. You believed what he said just now and finally understood why his mere presence could suppress your hunger for yang energy. In front of you was a fucking dragon, the very manifestation of yang energy. You could drink your fill off him and it wouldn't even make a dent.

"Are you really letting me feed off you?" You had to ask him again to make sure. Just the thought made you unconsciously swallow.

"Please be gentle."

Zhongli chuckled as you grabbed him by the lapels and pressed your lips against his in an open-mouthed kiss. He groaned softly in protest as you rolled on top of him, pinning him underneath you. Much-needed yang energy flowed up from his lips to yours. You drank it in greedily, like a thirsty traveler stranded in the desert.

When you finally had your fill, Zhongli was panting from lack of air and a heavy blush was spread over his face. This was way too intense for a first kiss, you had to admit, but could you be blamed?

"It worries me that you may need to do this every month." He spoke up.

"Do you want to retract the contract already?"

"I said no such thing." He smiled at you.

You could see your reflection in his amber eyes. Since the first time he laid eyes on you, he already knew. It felt nice laying in Zhongli's arms like this without your mask. He was him and you were you. Neither of you were what you both pretended to be. You would probably never truly blend in, but if Zhongli could pull it off, so could you.

[mcmonstructuk]

Top 5 Godpoke headcanons, GO! *Sits back with popcorn*

SCREAMS WITH JOY

Okay I’m gonna try to choose some shorter ones otherwise this post is gonna be like 50million years long UEHEH - There will be Great God Grove spoilers ahead

1.) Okay anyone who knows me and has heard my insane ramblings knows that my godpoke is birdfolk!! Specifically crossed between a crow and a black vulture. Since both birds are heavily associated with death, I decided to have death be a huge part of their culture. They respect it greatly, and have a few traditions surrounding it;

One of these traditions is that if yew come across a corpse in the desert (which is where Godpoke’s hometown is located), yew must take time to care for and bury it correctly, and not doing so is considered disrespectful and is frowned upon. Whether it’s a human’s, an animal’s, hunter, prey, doesn’t matter. For this very reason I imagine godpoke to carry around a small knife/dagger, as part of the burial tradition includes cutting a feather from yer hair, and placing it with the body. They do this with the belief that the dead will carry the feathers on into the afterlife. It shows that someone cared for and loved them, even if it was a stranger

2.) Since godpoke grew up in the desert, they have a huge (now irrational) fear of being trapped. Not trapped in a locked room or trapped by a person, but being trapped or caught in something, and not being able to free themselves. Their hometown was very isolated. There were not many people around. This means that the wilderness around them was large, and getting stuck out in said wilderness often meant death. Whether that was from lack of food, lack of water or being picked off by wildlife, yew won’t survive if yew don’t have someone there to help yew. (I actually wrote a short fic exploring this and how it effects them in the grove if anyone is interested in seeing that.. blinks)

3.) More on the irrational fears from the desert segment; they’re also afraid of being alone, especially when vulnerable. This is a huge problem for them as since the events of the game, they’ve taken it upon themselves to help out King and Bug with delivering mail on top of being the new godpoke, which tires them out QUICK. By the time they’re done with work, they’re exhausted and usually need to sleep, but can’t go back home to do so because they would be alone. Asleep. During the day. When the animals are all awake. Of course this fear is now completely irrational since they live in the Grove, I highly doubt there’s any deadly creatures to worry about; but it still gets to them. And so they often choose to return to King’s domain to rest. Knowing she’s always nearby puts them at ease, and allows them to get any rest that they may need. King doesn’t mind at all! She loves them, and wants them to feel safe. They sometimes may choose Missy or Thespius as alternatives too, depending on if King is able to have them there or not (ofc they’d also love to be with Patty, but by the time they’re done with work, she isn’t,, on the odd occasion that she’s free tho, they’ll choose to be with her instead)

4.) Now onto some simpler things; Godpoke used to be a carpenter! They used to build and repair wagons the most, but they also whittle as a hobby! One of their favourite things to gift people are small carvings, tools or figures that they’ve created. Actually discussed once with my friend Mint/King about godpoke finding sticks (haha dumb bird) that they think King might like, and if they’re big enough, they’d make carvings into it and gift them to her. I imagine they have also made many a custom paintbrush for Razzma too, and ofc some wooden flowers and maybe even bowls and plates with floral engravings on for Patty

5.) Thespius is teaching Godpoke how to use sign language to communicate! While they’ve always known sign, it was never the “right” sign. Once again due to their isolated origins, the sign language they were taught wasn’t universal at all, and was made up for them by the people of their town when they became mute. Thus, no one could understand them whenever they’d try to sign something. Thespius decided to take it upon himself to ask if Godpoke would like to learn a more universal sign language, so they could communicate better without having to play charades, or collage speech together with megapon. I chose Thespius for this since apparently in his original concept, the extra hands he has used to spell things out in sign, so it’s nice to think that he’s fluent in it,, I imagine godpoke would also in turn then teach Thespius how to use their sign language, so they could both talk to each other in whichever they wish :]

GUHH it was so hard to pick just five, I have SOOO MANYYY. I need to think of more silly stuff tho a lot of mine are based around like. Angst. UEHEH but yeah I can also go into detail about Godpoke’s background too if anyone craves,, I was thinking of dumping that all here but ohh my lord that would be a lot to read UEHEH so I decided to stick to smaller thangs for now.. but yeas I do have more to share rubs my hands together evilly

[iwtvdramacd18]

Well y'all know I have to do it. Louis T4T fic reclist

for @iwtvfanevents A meal 2 remember event! I'm picking one to highlight per person here but everything is HIGHLY recommended and many folks here have multiple T4T and trans hits as well as collabs!. (And I'm not telling you who, you better give them a click through)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am amazed by peace–@dictee

This was a holiday surprise so desperately needed. There's an intimacy to every description here, I think of some deep conveying of wanting... wanted to be wanted and wanting to want in turn, and the joy of knowing you can be! And you can have that. One of those fics that feels like a film in your head. Whenever this updates my day stops so I can enjoy it.

try to swallow the wave– @diasdelfuego

Mindblowing use of prose, bringing disconnect and identity to the forefront. Mixing heartbreaking emotion and unexpected elation. I can't believe you first published this anonymously because I was lamenting the fact I couldn't give the author flowers... AND NOW I CAN. Brought a tear to my eye when I first read it. I get chills just thinking about reading it again.

Snow in the Champagne– @nakiaslilhoodoo

There is something masterful about taking these bigger than life characters and bringing them to a very relatable, intimately mundane level, the ability to take these "smaller" moments and give them weight and heat and humor. Grounding in small objects, rituals of love, that's the type of stuff I love.

cleave/tie– @kittyldpdl

What an emotional ride. Can you just call a fic "fleshy" and leave it like that? Carnality and horror, this is something I want to talk about at length but can't for hear of spoiling the experience. I live for the levels of trans parenthood on display as well. Scars in fiction that make you slam your phone down and shout NO WAYYYYY.

Allude me, Pursue me, Consume me.– @salmoncakepls

Angela Carter is nodding along to this.... LOVE the fairy tale trappings and the bleeding of human into animal and past the two thresholds. Incredible imagery that sticks to the mind, once again trans parenthood let's make it crazy let's make it insane. Ending chapter had me holding my breath.

perpetuum mobile– @knifeeater

I wanna pretend like I have something indepth to say about this. I really do. Because the depth is there. Thinking about vampirism in the far flung future, vampire bodies like orbiting planets and satellites. But also. This is just really fucking hot WE FUCKING? IN THE FAR OFF FUTURE????

breath, held– @enterprisery

Love the exploration of brief returns to humanity in an erotic sense, vampiric play with the vulnerability of mortality? The focus on sensation (and brief letting go of it), the communication and heat behind it, love to see Loumand getting down in this way.

Once Upon a Wine-Dark Sea– @weather-mood

Recommending the entire series because like many worthwhile many-chaptered many forked stories there's a lot of context to be taken in (and by all means you should take it in, the whole is recommended), Charybdis is chiefly what puts this in this list specifically, and ofc I must point to Tidelines, ongoing; another fairy tale/ mythic epic.

And here are some rapid-fire fic recs featuring trans Louis:

rhododendron– @blueiight (MY BELOVED...)

in a lonely place–@devotiondroid (FINE you're the final nail selling me on danlou noir....)

Charred–@blacclotusss (ANOTHER HOLIDAY BANGER)

Pleas on Deaf Ears–@ bloodiedroses (WHEW)

[nur-ein-amor]

Hi I heard you do monster AU things!

I've been looking at those monster au 141 team things, and I was wondering if you could do a Percht!König and Survivalist Werewolf!Reader! (pref male)

Essentially the reader has been camping in the dense forest in just a tent and uses the forest to their advantage, hunting, scaling trees for shelter if dangerous creatures are nearby, using an axe or machete of sorts to help harvest materials or break their way through the underbrush. But one day the reader runs into König in Percht form (Percht can be pretty territorial) and ends up in a tall tree, König circling them. Eventually night comes and König returns to his den, little does the reader remember it's a full moon. Before the reader knows it their gaze is trapped on the full moons hypnotic glow as the Werewolf curse takes effect.

Upon hearing the sound of something violently thrashing near his territory, Percht!König finds a large werewolf(The reader), feasting on a dead moose. It's rather appalled because uh, moose can take a hit from a semi-.

I'm running out of ideas to add to this so I guess get creative- also can the werewolf have soft but spiky looking fur?-

[I'm all in for interspecies stuff :D]

To be honest, I'm not a writer and probably the last time I wrote anything was 5 years ago.

You would need to contact any authors who write anything on this fandom, etc.

I say right away, everything is translated through a translator. And instead of Y/n, I use a Reader because it's easier while writing.

And to tell the truth, I was bored when I found this query and eventually decided to write it, so, yes.

Sorry if it was turned bad. Nothing romantic or fluffy. Just if you really want what you need just write to someone else who can normally write.

Percht!König and Survivalist Werewolf! Male! Reader!

Maybe part 2 . But if someone want or ask about that.

The sun was setting, bathing the dense forest in a warm golden light. The air was filled with the smell of pine trees and the sounds of birds chirping. The Reader, an experienced survivalist, has set up camp in a small clearing, and his only shelter is a simple tent in the forest.

But for him the forest was home. He knew every inch of it, from the tallest trees to the smallest animals that lived in the forest. The dense forest was an ideal place for such a person (okay, half human, you could say) like the Reader. He lived in various forests for many years, relying on his hunting, gathering and survival skills.

Surviving in the wilderness was not easy due to some possible dangers, weather and seasons, but the Reader learned to adapt. He foraged for food, hunted for animals, and climbed trees to seek shelter when dangerous creatures were nearby or while hunting to spy. He also always carried an ax with him, using it to gather materials or while making his way through the forest.

The reader has lived in this forest for a long time, enjoying the freedom and solitude that the forest provided. But little did he know that their peaceful existence was about to be disrupted. One day, while doing a routine hunt in the winter forest, the Reader came across a creature unlike anything he had ever seen before, although this creature stood with its back to him, perhaps not even paying attention to the Reader's presence. It was tall and imposing, with a twisted and gnarled body, covered in tufts of matted fur and large, twisted horns on its head. It was König, the German monster known as Percht, and he was in his terrifying bestial form.

Perchts could be very territorial. The Perkht were a race of creatures that lived in the forest, and they were not known for their friendliness to humans or other creatures. Watching from a safe distance, the Reader saw and knew that he needed to be careful of possible approaching danger. The Reader quickly retreated back in order to return to his camp, hoping to avoid confrontation.

But Percht, known as König, caught the scent and began tracking him down. The reader could hear his heavy footsteps and low growl as he moved closer and closer to him. In a panic, the Reader grabbed an ax and climbed a nearby tree, hoping to wait out König's presence. But the fact that it’s already getting dark and it’s winter doesn’t help.

Watching from his place, the Reader saw König circling at the foot of the tree he was on. His eyes glowed in the darkness of the evening sky, creating an eerie feeling. You could hear his powerful breathing and the sound of his hooves scratching the ground. The Reader was sure that the monster was simply waiting for the Reader to come down to attack. The Reader knew that he was safe now, and hoped that Perkht would eventually leave. What the Reader didn't know was that there would be a full moon that night. As a result, after some time, König left, emitting a menacing growl, realizing that he could not get enough of fear and flesh. König, returned to his den.

And so the Reader, having checked and waited, still came down from the tree, first throwing his ax down into the snow, and then he went down himself. Taking the ax in his hands, he began to run from that place, being careful of the nearest and possible danger, not paying attention to the crunch of snow under his boots. Not paying attention to the sky, he continued to run towards his tent. As the moon rose higher in the sky, the Reader felt a strange sensation come over him. At night, one could feel the werewolf's primal instincts take over.

The reader was no longer in control of his actions, and his mind was clouded by the desire to hunt and feast. Transformation was always painful, but the reader got used to it. What they weren't used to, however, was the insatiable hunger that came with it. As werewolves, their senses were heightened and they could smell fresh animal blood from a distance. He could not control his body as his limbs began to lengthen and his skin became covered with fur and the feeling of blood and thirst swept upward while shreds of tattered clothing lay in the snow and an ax somewhere in the snow.

**Thirst** Only thirst controlled him at this moment.

The once peaceful forests are now filled with fear. Sniffing the air, the werewolf's heightened senses detected prey nearby. He followed the scent of elk for miles, his stomach growling with hunger. The elk, unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows, continued to graze peacefully. But the graceful creature was no match for the ferocity of the hungry werewolf. Suddenly, the werewolf jumped out of the shadows and attacked the unsuspecting moose. Its massive jaws clamped down on the moose's neck, drawing blood and causing the creature to let out a deafening scream.

But the Reader did not limit himself to one bite. With sharp claws, he grabbed the elk's flesh, tearing out huge pieces of meat. The moose, writhing in agony, struggled to escape the werewolf's powerful grip. But the werewolf's grip only tightened, his primal instincts took over, and he furiously charged into the helpless animal. The sound of bones cracking was heard above the deafening roar of the werewolf and the cries of the dying elk. As the elk's life slowly slipped away, the werewolf let out a howl of victory, raising his bloody muzzle to the moon. The moose now lay in a pool of his own blood, his body mangled and torn apart by the werewolf's merciless claws.

Percht Koenig was resting in his den deep in the forests when he was suddenly awakened by loud sounds echoing through the night. He stepped out carefully, his hooves clicking on the cold ground as he scanned his surroundings for the source of the disturbance.

A disgusting smell suddenly filled his nostrils, causing him to curl his lips in disgust. He followed the scent, his keen senses leading him to a clearing where the full moon shone brightly, illuminating the gruesome scene. A huge elk lay on the ground, torn and lifeless, its body mangled and covered with deep claw marks. A werewolf stood over the corpse, his muzzle covered in blood.

Perkht let out a loud, guttural growl, and the Reader responded in kind, preparing to attack. König's claws extended and muscles tensed, ready to defend its territory. The two creatures surrounded each other, their eyes meeting with a deadly gaze. The reader felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins as his wolfish instincts urged him to attack. But he also knew how important strategy was in such a battle. As König rushed at him, the Reader quickly dodged to the side, stabbing him in the side with his claws. The monster howled in pain, but quickly recovered and responded with a devastating blow of its claws.

The reader felt the sharp pain of claws on his fur, but refused to show weakness. He responded with a vicious bite, sinking his teeth into Percht's flesh. The creature let out a bloodcurdling scream and retreated. The battle continued, Reader and Percht König exchanging blows. With one last burst of energy, the Reader pounced on Percht König, pinning him to the ground. He let out a howl of triumph as the creature let out a sigh, defeated at the hands of the werewolf.

[11queensupreme11]

I think that regardless of the divorce between Hades and Persephone the seasons will continue to happen, if we think about the myth we will remember that the reason why Persephone was permanently trapped in the underworld was because before returning to her mother she ate some seeds of pomegranate, so following this reasoning we can think that their marriage was just a formality to preserve Persephone's honor since she was kidnapped and probably abused by Hades (we know that at that time if a woman was abused she should marry the abuser to preserve her and her family’s honor)

We know that some curses cannot be broken even by the gods (Beelzebub as an example) so we just need to think that the curse present in pomegranates (it is in all underworld foods) are so strong that even the gods who eat them are forced to be trapped in the underworld without being able to free herself, so Persephone would still be forced to spend 6 months in the underworld but now she is no longer forced to be imprisoned in the Palace of Hades and is free from the obligations of a wife

As the curse still forces her to spend part of the year there, the seasons continue as her mother is still unhappy with the situation but now the seasons (mainly autumn and winter) are much milder as Demeter is happy with her divorce. daughter, the seasons being milder (autumn and winter) and stronger (spring and summer) is not necessarily good since climate change can accidentally destroy the existing ecosystem, it would practically be divine global warming melting the ice areas, leaving deserts and hot areas in hellish temperatures, plants and food would ONLY be able to grow in spring since this would be the only climate that would not have an excessive change, which although it doesn't seem like it is very bad since planting only in one area for just a long period of time without giving the soil time to rest will deplete all nutrients from the soil leaving it infertile

Due to the changes, it would be impossible to plant food in other seasons as fruits and vegetables would not be able to adapt to climate changes and it would be unnecessary to resort to the use of pesticides and other artificial cultivation techniques to keep the few harvests alive, this would affect the quality of the crop. food would decline and would cause prices to increase since with the drop in food production it would not be able to match the great demand of the population and this would cause an increase in world hunger and food insecurity for the poorest people since we know that when there is a large demand for a limited quantity of a product the price of that product will naturally rise

The problem will be so big that it will probably also affect animals, wild animals will have difficulty adapting to climate change (probably these animals died from heat and cold as their bodies were not adapted, in fact now that I think about the high temperatures can lead to natural fires that would devastate entire forests) and many will die due to lack of food (without plants, herbivores will not be able to feed themselves and without herbivores, predators will not be able to feed themselves and this will probably collapse many ecosystems), the Livestock industries will also be affected as they, in addition to having difficulty feeding animals, will have to worry about them dying due to the climate (many industries will probably go bankrupt) with the drop in production products such as meat of any kind will probably rise in price which will undermine people's purchasing power, which will generate even greater food insecurity

In short, everyone on earth will suffer because Percy indirectly destroyed a harmonious ecosystem thousands of years old because she is so hot and charismatic, I can't imagine the look on her face knowing that humans are dying as collateral damage of her being in an ALMOST relationship romantic relationship between her and the yanderes, not to mention the damage that Poseidon can do with the tides, Beelzebub with diseases and violence and Apollo with literal Global warming, our girl is indirectly leading humans to extinction just by exist

BRO???? 💀💀💀

i have to ask, but are you an environmentalist major or something related to that????

cuz i remember you (or at least i think it was you) sending a previous long ask about the consequences of poseidon making it dangerous for humans to be in the sea, you were talking about pearls, medicine, sea food, etc and it was sooooo well-written and detailed omg 😂

but everything you wrote is EXACTLY why i'm making it so all four seasons still exist 💀 talking about the aftermath with the ecosystem is just give me psychic damage cuz i'll feel like i'm back in my bio class again 🫠

[mrs-bluemarine]

F/Obruary day 2 | Plushies

Since I've been in an 99 mood today, why not use this one for him!!

I don't have any pictures of him, just imagine that header is a sexy sexy picture of a robot train conductor. Divider is @!cafekitsune's!

Pairings: 1-99-Y x. Oh wait, they don't have a name yet? Ok

WC: 500-something

Warnings: Original character jumpscare!! The Horsemen are here, also some coarse language, what can u except in the Wasteland

Above the shop door, a bell rang as the disguised robot stormed out of the building, treasure in hand. He looked left, then right, bright yellow eyes locking in on the four humans he was traveling with, scoping out some booths for fresh goods.

His boots stomped through the dirt, leaving a clear imprint with every step under his heavy metal body. He came up to the brunette first, Abby was her name. He tapped a rough, gloved finger on her shoulder, getting equally bright golden eyes in return.

1-99-Y lifted his fuzzy, periwinkle hostage up in the air by an ear trapped between two fingers and a thumb, “What do you call this?” There was the familiar buzz in his voice they all heard when he spoke in that monotone sound. There was a hint of curiosity there, but it was still the same dull tone as usual.

Novvah was at Abby's side quickly. He looked at the thing in his hand, then the artificial lifeform, his chipped eyebrow raised. “A jackalope? They're a pretty common animal, dunno how many you'll find underground.”

“Jackalope…” The robot hummed, taking the thing into both hands to analyze it more clearly. “...No, I understand the creature it is. I want the name of this thing itself.” He explained further, poking it with his metallic digit. “It's too soft to be a true animal. Is it a carcass, filled with something?”

“No, nuts and bolts, it's a toy.” Novvah sighed.

“It's a stuffed animal! Not a real animal, it's made of cloth, and stuffed with soft things to make it nice to cuddle with!” Abby chirped in that voice that never lost its enthusiasm.

The rest of the Horsemen surrounded the tin man while he filed away the information given to him. Eric poked at it, a soft “Cute” mumbled between gritted teeth. Alba was excited about the color, being a fan of the pale blue herself. “How come you bought it before you even understood what it was?” She asked.

“That intruder has said before that she likes jackalopes. Do you suppose that it would like this, as well?” 99 said.

“Who doesn't love plushies!” Abby grinned.

Novvah spoke next, a sly little smirk on his mouth. “That gal has been visiting the underground longer than we have! How come she doesn't get first name privileges?”

The blonde quipped, “Not using her name, but buying her gifts? You're a walking contradiction, aren't you!”

99 brought the plushie back to his chest, almost protectively. He was staring at it even longer, a strange and foreign feeling settling over his wires and circuits the longer he looked at it. “I suppose so.” And the redhead began trailing off in the direction of home, his inner compass never failing him.

The bell above the door rang a second time, a greying man with wild eyes staring down the lone A.L.F., who continued to ignore his desperate cries. “Hey, kid! No walking off with the merch, you still need to pay numbnuts!”

Alba jolted backwards, blue eyes wide with horror as if she was watching something far more gruesome than her reality; “YOU DIDN'T EVEN PAY?!”

[quietwingsinthesky]

I take the time loop and I FIX the Lucy 👀

note 1 to take from this being the wip title: i need to stop naming my documents after monster factory quotes. note 2: this is the torment machine and i am putting lucy in it.

basically. okay. outline of the story is i am putting lucy into a timeloop that starts... well, either starts upon kidnapping desmond and getting him into the facility or starts like directly when AC1 starts just to make it even more jarring for her. and it ends when she dies, because she always dies. she pretty soon also discovers that it ends if desmond dies, too. she discovers this because she kills him. like, more than once. a lot, probably. lucy's initial solution to the timeloop is not 'tell people and get help', though that doesn't work, but it's 'desmond can't kill me if he's already dead' mixed with a little 'this is a mercy killing, it's better for him this way'. because she is, understandably, extremely fucked up from being trapped in a loop of her own murder and desmond is both the guy who keeps leading to that pain continuing but also someone she cares about.

like. i do want this to have. if not a happy ending, then an ambiguously hopeful one? i want her to get out of that temple alive. that's the goal i AM fixing the lucy.

shaun or rebecca might have to die in her place a few times first and lead to her purposefully resetting the loop, (possibly with desmond's help? guy's already wacked out on time memory bullshit. eventually, he is going to believe her when she figures out how to prove that this is happening, and he's going to want to get her out. even if he knows she killed him a bunch. because he killed her first, and desmond does kind of seem like the kind of guy to feel guilty over actions he took in another timeline that he had no control over. and there is something beautifully fucked up about desmond letting lucy kill him in return to reset the loop even though they've both 'survived', because they know, they can't keep going forward in a world where someone else died in lucy's place. there has to be another way out. maybe.)

like i said. i take the time loop and i fix the lucy. but she does have to suffer before that <3

The Animus is a little like putting a human brain in a microwave and heating it slowly enough that the hidden aromas leak out. It’s not something that can be undone. You can’t uncook meat, and you can’t unslaughter the animal that died for it.

Lucy should stop missing breakfast, but dying makes her nauseous.

Desmond is limp and sweating. The first few sessions had been the hardest on him physically. Are always the hardest on him. His body develops a better handle on it than his mind, and… She never really gets to see if his mind gets a handle on it at all. If Desmond stops seeing ghosts or if he starts to believe he’s one of them. It’s her fault, and her fingers move along the variable controls of the Animus.

The benefits of a long-term study: you have a few decades of free time before they matter. All the projections that whisper about brain tumors are just hearsay until one of your subjects develops one, and you don’t have to let any of them live long enough for that to happen. The mice fared worse. She wasn’t on that team, but they still delivered the pictures taken of foaming mouths, wild-wide eyes.

Desmond twitches. A failure in the machine. Every muscle in his body should be shut down; all the electrical impulses in his brain are feeding into the Animus, and the Animus is reflecting them back and out to its monitors in waves of radiation Abstergo claims as harmless.

Sweat is drenching his shirt. Warren finally pays attention when the Animus betrays her with a warning of overclocking.

“End the simulation, Lucy,” Warren orders.

Her fingers move to the controls to do so before she can think.

Desmond convulses, and she locks the settings instead. Warren can override her, always, but it will take him precious seconds. Seconds he wastes. First another command, “Lucy, turn off the Animus.” Then, he is close, and his hands are on her arm, his nails digging in, and he is dragging her away. Her skin aches when he shoves her out of his way. Desmond’s mouth is open. She stares at the wet wreckage of it, and she’s glad he doesn’t open his eyes.

She would have listened to Warren if Desmond had opened his eyes.

[wip tag game]

[makariosse]

Angel and Beast

Bishop Barron discussed how humans are an integration of angels and beasts, being both body and spirit, not extremes as ancient philosophers suggested. As spirits, like angels, we can ascend to contemplation of mysteries; yet, like beasts, our bodies have demands—hunger, sleep, and other needs—to ensure our health. He mentioned that God's plan was not for body and spirit to be separate, but one, as a human is both. He elaborated that the tension we feel during or in the occasion of sin is the opposition of body and spirit, which is why we must strive to practice virtue to master our desires rather than be mastered by them.

I reflect on this with what St. John of the Cross stated. He said that when he had desires, he had nothing, but now that he has God, he has everything without desire, emphasizing the virtue of detachment from the world. In my personal experience, I also ponder marital embrace. Before marriage, there is tension between a man and a woman; a desire to finally be together as they anticipate their marriage. This tension is not to be sought after, but reflects the desire of Christ to be with His Bride, the Church. It is not an invitation to sin, but the yearning and longing before one fully returns to Christ. In marriage, a Sacrament, the Lord becomes one with His bride, represented by the groom and bride. They are finally together after a long wait. Their union is blessed by Heaven; the tension is washed away. Like Adam and Eve, the man and woman become comfortable with each other's bare bodies; there is no shame, for they are one flesh. The struggle with the tension of desire is gone; the man and woman are free to behold one another in joy, peace, and celebration.The same way the gladness of our Lord's heart is shown when we are finally with Him. He rejoices in us, without fear or doubt. Marriage is truly an image of God. The body and spirit have become fully integrated; a master of oneself, and only then can we say that a person may have reached the summit of virtue.

Bishop Barron discussed how the image of our Lord Jesus Christ in the desert demonstrates Him as the perfect example of angel and beast integrated. He is God Himself, and at any moment of His command, His holy angels would come to His assistance; but in the desert, He was also among the animals, which made Him also a beast—an animal that desires to eat and sleep as necessary. He is the image of an integrated angel and beast; for while hungry and exhausted, He portrayed mastery of self by refusing Satan's temptations. An icon of what we must strive to be in times of trial, to stand firm in our virtues and God's commandments through and through. Blessed be the man who remains steadfast in the fire of tribulation and wills to live like our Lord Jesus Christ, who sanctified our sufferings that they might not be in vain, but be another way to imitate Him: in suffering and in glory. Amen.

Bishop Barron was not literally saying that the Lord is an angel and wild beast, as our Lord Jesus Christ is divine and human. Angels have their own "offices" depending on their choir (nine choirs of angels; St. Thomas Aquinas). In that sermon, Bishop Barron refuted the notion that ancient philosophers like Plato and Socrates imposed—that we are souls trapped in bodies waiting to be freed from material existence. This is contrary to Christian belief, which emphasizes that a human being consists of both body and soul. Bishop Barron mentioned that this is also an argument against materialism, the belief that everything "material" is evil, which is not the case in Christian theology. In ancient philosophy or the ancient world, it was controversial to suggest that any "god" would care about the world or material things; that gods would only care about the soul and spirit. But our Lord—as stated in the Nicene Creed—created both the visible and the invisible. He rejoices in His creation and considered it all good (Genesis). His creation (even the material world) is not evil, but only human attachment(s) and how one utilizes the material make things evil. The same as Scripture says it is not money itself that is evil, but the love of money.

"The Angels and Wild Beasts" title of the sermon metaphorically describes humans as having a spirit capable of contemplation, like angels, and having earthly bodies, like wild beasts, with appetites or desires (sleep, food, basic needs) to maintain them.

[wanderingmind867]

When Diana Prince wakes up on the beaches of San Francisco, a complete amnesiac with no powers (due to a magic spell Circe cast on her), she ends up being taken in by I-Ching. From there, Diana learns the fine skills of martial arts. She learns about how I-Ching is being hunted by CIBER (who finally learned he existed), and that he needs Diana's aid to take down this criminal organization and enjoy freedom for the last few years of his life. Diana agrees to help him, since his mission gives her a sense of purpose with her amnesia.

So in their day to day lives, Diana Prince runs a fashion boutique and I-Ching helps run a soup kitchen. But in their shared home (owned by I-Ching, who allows Diana to live with him), these two train and plan to lead counter strikes against CIBER and their operatives. Wonder Woman may be missing, but Diana Prince is still doing what she used to do. Bringing down injustice and helping the innocent.

In any case, i'm now going to use terminology as if this were an animated tv show. This season of Wonder Woman's show would get around 26 to 29 episodes, all about Diana and I-Ching battling Veronica Cale and CIBER. Diana would slowly begin recovering her memories, but not her powers. And Diana would also run into Veronica in both her civilian identity and her evil Doctor Cyber identity. There's a deep enmity between them, as Diana sees Cale Pharmaceuticals for what it is: a greedy and exploitative corporation ruining humanity.

I can't cover every encounter Diana and Doctor Cyber have in these 26-29 episodes, but I can cover the grand finale of this season. Diana and I-Ching have finally infiltrated Doctor Cyber's secret lab. They fall into a trap, but Diana successfully manages to break free and save I-Ching. Then her and Cyber get into a physical fight, one which ends with both of them learning each other's secret identities. And then they realize cyber's lab is about to explode, but there's no way to stop the detonation.

Diana and I-Ching successfully escape the island, but Veronica spurs the aid of Wonder Woman. She refuses the aid of that "fake feminist and socialist." Cyber tries to escape the island using her jet pack, but it runs out of fuel shortly after she gets into the air. So she crashes into the water, and ends up seemingly dying in the explosion of her island lair. A body was never found, but Diana assumes she died.

Unfortunately, she didn't. She was horribly disfigured in the accident, and she returns to land only to find she's now lost her entire company. Cale Pharmaceuticals was forcibly broken up, and all of it's private healthcare clinics were converted into free rehab centres and other important healthcare related services. The name of Veronica Cale now only symbolises greed posing as female empowerment.

And this only makes the now hideously disfigured Veronica Cale hate Wonder Woman even more. So Wonder Woman has a new arch-enemy. As if Circe, Doctor Psycho, Cheetah and all the others weren't enough, now Doctor Cyber also wants her dead. She couldn't get any plastic surgeries to stick, so now she hides permanently behind cybernetic enhancements and her iron mask. She's still a greedy shill to the last, however. Almost all of her crimes end up screwing over people in some monetary way. She truly will never learn: money simply isn't everything.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hi Zombie😌❤️ For your return trip:

I've read about intergalactic fics recently, and there's a particular interesting setting that soldiers could develop their spiritual animal that could fight alongside of them in a physical form.

Suppose you are one of the soldiers on the intergalactic battle field, who do you want to fight alongside with and why?(you could come up with their spiritual animals)

A. Ari, who always comes up with the craziest ideas and encourages you to jump from the fleet to the Bug's nest like he does. Crazy, but his plans always work out. Your superiors order you to pair up with him to train him to care about casualties.

B. Steve, who you can always count on to have your six. But he is even more reckless than Ari. You could only pray that he gets lucky and escape Death in the next battle. Your superiors order you to pair up with him so he doesn't go solo as he always wants to.

C. Curtis, who was born in Project Wilford, one of the deadliest soldiers alive. Rumor is he has gutted hundreds of Bugs in one battle, and made it out alive. He's mysterious and silent, and you can't help but wonder if he is a man or a literal killing machine. Your superiors pair you up with him to keep an eye on him, in case he runs wild.

Bonus Extra: D, Winter Soldier. The real Killing Machine. Losing an arm in a battle before scientists made him a robotic one. The only reason why your superiors ask you to pair up with him is because the winter soldier is highly unstable, and that he had asked to see you (why is that? You don't have the slightest clue)

Most of my contemplation on this has gone into what my own inner beast is/would be. I've settled on "Mutt". While different breeds can specialize in types of training, a mutt has the potential for all types, especially if it's a military service dog. So let's go through your list!

++

Ari - I'm gonna say his inner beast (in this scenario) is a Firehawk. A bird that starts fires in order to flush out its prey with no consideration for the damage it causes.

For this, I'd probably be a mutt with guide dog training. Ari has this huge blindspot in his vision when it comes to casualties so I've been assigned to guide him through the parts he can't see. Additionally, guide dogs can practice selective disobedience so that they don't accidentally walk their human into traffic just because they got the command to walk. This will be very helpful for working with Ari and helping him to navigate casualty costs.

++

Steve - I kinda wanna make Steve's inner beast a honey badger for this one. They are intelligent, fierce and survive a lot of things they shouldn't.

To help Steve's survivability, and to increase the likelihood he'll actually want to keep working with me, I think my inner beast would have to be a mutt trained for medical service. Whether it's getting him medical care or getting him out of danger until rescue can arrive, a medical service mutt would likely be most helpful.

++

Curtis - I'm actually not sure what his inner beast would be. I'm torn between a shark and a large feline (i.e. Jaguar).

Either way, my inner mutt clearly needs PTSD/psychiatric support training. Learning to read his body language since he doesn't talk but also helping him find his voice again. Being a barrier between him and others when he needs it. Protecting him. Reminding him of his humanity and caring.

++

Bucky - I'm sure a lot of people think Bucky's inner beast is a wolf. After all, one of his nicknames is White Wolf. But I don't think so. He's a sniper first. Silent, attacks from a distance, patient, solitary. His inner beast is an owl.

The reason he's asked for me is because, in this scenario, my inner beast is a mutt with military training in bomb detection. He lost his arm because, from his bird's eye view, he missed some traps that were set out. He's not gonna risk that again so he's asked for me to accompany him so we can keep each other safe. I'm his scout, his trap disarmer, bomb defuser, etc.

++

I hope you find these answers satisfactory!

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Girls Group 2 Round 3 Match 4

SUBMISSION PROPAGANDA:

Izutsumi -

"Izutsumi is a picky eater and she has sensory touch issues as well plus as a catgirl she automatically gets autism because all cats have autism by human standards."

Alluka -

"OKAY so this might just be me having brain worms about things, but I feel like Alluka and Nanika together are a really good allegory for what it's like to be autistic. For those that don't know-- Alluka is a child who's been trapped in the basement of her family's manor ever since they learned that she's possessed by a spirit called Nanika. The reason that they trapped her is because Nanika can grant people any wish they desire, no matter how dangerous or impossible, but she always takes something of great value in return. The person won't know what will be taken until it's been taken, and people have lost body parts, friends, and other things.

Alluka doesn't control when Nanika comes out, but when she does, the person that she's talking to MUST ask three wishes from her before she's able to leave. Most of her family doesn't attempt to understand her besides the most basic "oh she's possessed and we have to abide by these rules if we want things to be safe and normal again". They simply refuse to interact with her and remain afraid and disturbed by her. Nanika herself can't really speak many words, but she clearly isn't just an unfeeling monster that grants wishes like they believe her to be. She has feelings and desires too, and she cares deeply for the people that love her. Even though she's different than others and seems inhuman and incomprehensible to most people, she's still just a person- a child, and if people put in effort to try to understand and communicate with her, they'd be able to see that she doesn't actually want to cause anyone harm, she just has certain rules that she needs to follow that allow her to function normally.

Alluka and Nanika are two parts of a whole. While they are considered to be separate entities, they both inhabit the same body and share each other's experiences. So any struggles that Nanika faces are also felt by Alluka once she wakes up and Nanika hides away again. Even when Alluka is asked to hide Nanika forever so that she can have a normal life, she refuses and gets upset and distressed, because Nanika is a part of who she is, and she doesn't want to hurt Nanika in that way. Together, Alluka and Nanika are an autistic girl who is unable to mask the part of herself that makes her seem different from other people. As a result, most people don't understand her and are afraid of her. They shun her, abuse her, try to "cure" her, use her for whatever she can give them, and then try to kill her when they decide she's too much trouble. Really, she's still just a girl. :("

[lunarsilkscreen]

A Theory About Fusion Samus, The Baby, and SA-X.

After Metroid 2, Samus collects a baby Metroid who believes Samus to be her mother. During Super Metroid, this Baby is found on planet Zebes, having been collected by the pirates, and experimented on.

This Baby absorbs all of Samus' power and Returns it to her when she needed it the most against Mother Brain; and the subsequently destroyed by Mother Brain.

Or was she?

In Metroid Fusion; the Titular Samus (After having rescued Animals from Zebes infected with the Parasite X) Absorbs the X *AND* A Metroid Core herself. Becoming both Human, Metroid, *and* Parasite X incarnate.

Or; Was *this* Samus really: [The Baby]?

Super Samus is faced with a choice at the end of Super Metroid; Investigate and save some animals trapped in a vault while escaping Zebes, OR ignore those animals because all their friends and family are dead either way.

What if; Super Samus didn't hear the animal's cry at all? What-if; [The Baby] had escaped after absorbing her "Mother's" DNA during the energy absorption... What if; She had them gone to where she knew she could find Parasite-X: in order to recover. She is after-all a "Super Metroid" and not your regular Metroid. Perhaps she hadn't died at the end of the game.

After absorbing information from Mother Brain, memories and DNA from Samus, and feasting on Parasite-X (who we know can take the form of other Animals already) Morphed Super Metroid into a sort of *Fusion Metroid*.

What if the reason the science team needed to "surgically" remove Samus' s armor was *because* it was an actual part of Her? A type of Bio-suit *also* made from X.

And The Body inside wasn't Samus at all; But her Daughter.... [The Baby].

Think about it; Vulnerable to Ice, so much so that her copied Suit wasn't able to protect against it at all; Capable of absorbing X, not because of a vaccine, but because she was *already* a Metroid. And the Metroid vaccine itself; only working *because* she *was* a Metroid.

Unless the Vaccine was made of Parasite-X; which actually does have the ability to morph your DNA; it doesn't make sense why Samus' DNA would rapidly change into a Metroid.

It makes more sense that the Baby Metroid would turn into *her* because of the Chozo's experiments on Samus' DNA in order to make her invulnerable to the Metroid to begin with.

[Link to Metroid.Fandom]

Here's where it gets Ominous; What if the linear gameplay of Metroid Fusion, Adam, and all of the story that we as the player are told about Fusion Suit Samus is a Lie?

What if; Samus had ejected the life forms from her own cargo hold, only knowing they were a threat to her? That pod could conceivably been picked up by The B.S.L.

And Adam, and everything that Fusion Samus knows (And that the Fandom actively hates about the series) were memories implanted into Fusion Samus as they tried to manipulate the Clone into doing their bidding?

Kinda Like Bioshock 1. "Would You Kindly; Not use your weaponry Samus?"

Why does this matter? Well the whole reason Samus in both Fusion and "Other: M" don't use their weapons are because she was asked to. The reasoning is; that the weaponry *could* destroy sections of the space station. It's later (in both games) that we find that ; the station was much stronger than they gave it credit for.

And in both cases; Samus has to decide not to follow a "direct order" just to use her own equipment; that they asked her to bring with. Why even bother bringing the equipment if it's "so strong it'll destroy everything"

So I ask again;

What if Fusion Samus *is* "The Baby"?

And; what happens if Super Samus catches wind that the Space Federation was actively experimenting on, and manipulating a clone of her?

[superluigiglitchy]

Really specific ass headcanons on the cast of SMG4

Meggy is really stubborn about sleep not because of her coffee addiction but because of nightmares she has from the anime island incident, the YouTube graveyard and pretty recently from Wild Spaghetti and Wren and pretty much just her trauma in general which results in her having some pretty bad insomnia

She's gotten better though because the glitchy gang don't want a repeat of what happened the last time she didnt sleep for days (read: she got a pretty bad fever because her human body hasnt adjusted to her newly made immune system and prettu much had a breakdown both from the stress, sleep deprivation and delirium caused form her fever) and she's trying to be better for them

What usually helps her sleep is having her cat Loaf near her, having one or more members of the gang sleep in a cuddle pile with her, a good cup of tea with some ramen noodles or the most embarrassing one for her: being rubbed behind her pointed ears

So far Mario and Luigi are some constant cuddle buddies of hers but Tari is a close second with Melony, Boopkins, Saiko and surprisingly Bob in third

With Meggy only looking human physically, she still retains all her inkling functions (plus a little something extra thanks shaggy) meaning yes she can still very much purr and she hates it

Mario and the others often exploit this

I am applying my inklings are basically aquatic cats headcanon onto Meggy and no one can stop me

Saiko is allergic to pollen and is practically knocked out during the first week of spring, yes Tari fusses over her a lot during this time

Bob is capable of being a good business man, he just needs to shed his old habits and bad practices this is easier said than done though

Unbeknownst to anyone not even herself, Tari is very susceptible to viruses, why she hasn't been infected by any is both a combination of dumb luck and being smart on what video games she enters (which is also a result of dumb luck) however that may change soon if TvWare involved now

Kaizo very much teases Saiko about her crush on Tari after he found out every chance he gets, he in turn nearly gets whacked with a hammer by the red faced pinkette

He's super supportive of her crush and will kick anyone's ass who objects, wingmans with Meggy so the idiots can finally confess to eachother

Mario wears a lot of star patches and bandages because he's silly like that

Peach went apocalypse survivor mode for a few weeks and did pretty well while trapped in the demon pit her castle was in, it's just that she got infect by the demon goop A week before SMG4 and the others could go down there to fetch the star, if the crew were to return and search around the remnants of the castle they would find a camcorder and a series of videos tapes of Peach's exploits and find the last 3 tapes are of her expressing her thought as she's been thinking of her actions from the past few years as of late and her regretting how she treated the others, Mario especially and how she wants to apologise to them and treat them all better once she gets out of this literal hell hole

Of course we all knew what happened after that

Luigi has seven evil ex boyfriends, each of which have experienced the wrath of Mario

Mario is also super supportive of Luigi and will also kick anyone's ass who objects

Peach and Daisy are dating, no one is aware of this and no one has figured it out

Pls add Daisy to SMG4 I want to see her kick ass and be a menace

Tari knows some karate moves and will not hesitate to use them post- western spaghetti, clench just speeds up the fighting with a laser and other dubious weapons that Tari didn't know her arm had

Boopkins has a guilty pleasure of watching scooby doo

Smg3 would make an animal sanctuary for any friends Eggdog makes

When Meggy gets sick (which is rare AF) she sorta acts... Kinda like a feral cat

Bob can confirm this statement with all the beak bite mark scars he has and scratches too

For some reason she's not mean to Mario, Luigi, Saiko or Tari (which is to be expected) but also Jubjub and Boopkins

Mario and Luigi consider Meggy A third Mario brother, Meggy cried for an hour straight when she found out about this because of how happy she was

She know uses the named Meggy Spletzer-Mario

Yes I still find it funny Mario and Luigi's last names are Mario so Mario Mario and Luigi Mario

Swag and Chris married for tax benefits

Everyone thinks that's a lie

[cosmica-galaxy]

Pspspsssppsspss I. LOVE. YOUR. MIMIC. CAMERAMAN!!! <3 So spooky, so horrifying but in a cute kinda way y'know? Like a snake :3

Anyways, I gotta ask a couple of things about this guys. If they can't possibly find food, what would these guys do? Do they starve, find an alternative or do they actually need food and are just hunting for enjoyment?

And if Veteran Cameraman were to encounter one of these, like they're chasing a human for food or something, what would he do? He looks like the type who can fend them off just fine by himself (again, so sorry for asking about him. I just love this non-OC character of yours so SO much 😅)

I have been WAITING FOR THIS--ahem! Do they NEED to eat?: Mimics need sustenance to live. They have biologies that can only be sustained with fresh meat. HOWEVER, frequent periods of lacking prey is expected. So they usually eat what humans used to eat. Snacks, rations, canned goods (can included), and utilizing other means of surviving. However, processed food does NOT taste good in the slightest to them. Fresh meat is the corner stone of their diets and it will always be preferred over other goods. What is their biology?: They are primarily organic in nature, but anomalous as well. They are primarily predators, which means they need meat to live. To sustain what? Nobody really knows. Some features of the mimics can change, such as "coat color", body type, and even if they have tongues or not. Some have tongues, usually those of higher ranks, which also means they are capable of communication and language. A popular theory among scientists is that they chose to "steal" the appearance of alliance members to hunt their most primary prey, Skibidis. Showing some form of intellect among their kind. Do they have large counterparts?: In short, most likely not. Smaller bodies are easier to maintain and keep energized, in comparison to the higher demands of a bigger body. If one happens to exist, it must mean that there's an abundance of prey or regular source of food. There may also be a high risk of cannibalism among larger mimics. How intelligent are they?: Just because they eat like feral animals doesn't mean they are stupid like said animals. In fact, many of them are quite cunning and show remarkable problem solving skills and team work. For one, they always travel in packs. If there's one, you can be guaranteed there's going to be more. Some are capable of communication and speech; while others are capable of working with their teammates to corner, trap, or break open hiding places where prey is located. However, they are also aware of relationships with either their prey or the alliance. The alliance is not their primary targets nor their enemies, so they have an unsteady truce with them. However, they know when to call it quits when the alliance gets involved. For example, if they are chasing a human prey item and the prey manages to get back into a group of "real" units, they are very well aware that the alliance is protective of humans and the chase abruptly ends. With the alliance members defending the prey, the mimics go back into hiding. For making units that you can't even eat your enemy would be both a waste of energy, time, and resources. There are FAR more units in the alliance then there are mimics. However...some are more determined than others and will continue to stalk the prey item, even while in the company of alliance members...from a safe distance of course. Who commands them?: Nobody truly knows. They DO have hierarchies, in which this influence is so strong that if their matriarch calls out for the clan members to return, they will even stop pursuing prey to answer the call. Usually, it's lowly peons doing most of the work under a larger matriarch or leader. However, one incident that was reported that there was a large sound emanated from somewhere...and even the leaders of the mimic packs answered the call. If there is a bigger mimic out there...it hasn't been detected yet.