#I was kept in a cage

[zombie-boygrrl]

There is nothing like being triggered into your dog related childhood trauma, feeling like you're back in that rusted cage, and then four days into that flashback, you see a cat get hit by a car.

The cat flops towards you on its side, looking as if it's playing.

If it wasn't in the road, no one would be any wiser.

Except me; Except you.

I saw your eyes; glossy, pupils wide.

You landed on the pavement, outstreching a paw as I ran towards you.

You twitched, your tail curled, your back arched.

There was no blood.

You didn't let out a sound.

You just looked at me.

And suddenly, I was you.

Led on that pavement, statically pleading for help.

Your eyes were glossy as you died.

And here I still am, led on my side.

And all I know, is I have been were you have been.

But you were a cat, and I, a dog.

I tried to save you.

For almost twenty minutes, I tried to save you.

I didn't leave your side, not until you were wrapped up in that pinkish red towel, and driven away from that pavement.

You urinated two minutes before you were taken away. I knew that that was it.

Is this it for me too?

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[b0nelessdoodles]

started this before mystic flour dropped and then was too busy trying to pull her to finish this lmao anyway tfw you and the besties are going nuts or something

[elfcollector]

I feel ill. All the fools and villains who ever fell for my ploys, they're — they're here!

[nixthelapin]

The irony of Émilie leaving her rich, restrictive family to explore the world only to also restrict her kid to the house and a social group that’s just an extension of her own

[aquitainequeen]

Bits and pieces of worldbuilding/setting that I really liked in Furiosa:

We only see one wheeled vehicle in the actual society of the Green Place, and it’s a pedal bicycle, and it’s being used as a blade sharpener. Right after that we learn that the Vuvalini travel by horseback, so the intruders’ bikes stand out all the more as ugly and alien in this place of abundance. (Also, for a piece of symbolism, from what I remember the raiders had killed a horse and were butchering it for the meat.) At the same time the people of the Green Place are familiar with petrol engines; Furiosa and her mother are clearly experienced with motorbikes since they know how to ride, sabotage and (in Mary Jabassa’s case) fix/upgrade them, a nod to the future when the last of the Vuvalini will turn back to petroleum to survive.   

Dementus’ followers eating the peach that Furiosa picked, marvelling over it; a fresh piece of fruit is precious in the Wastelands.

The History Man has clothes covered in writing as well as his skin, and he has a tattoo kit so that he can constantly add more words to himself!

I really appreciated that Dementus’ subordinates actually had personalities and lives outside of the narrative that we’re shown; for example, it was great to see ‘Mr. Norton’ join the war band via a battle to be the last person standing, and steadily rise up the ranks off screen until she’s part of Dementus’ inner circle and taking part in his worst atrocities.

We get to see what happens to the serfs when the Citadel is attacked -- there’s no room for them in their lord’s fortress and their only shelter is holes scraped in the earth. Shows us precisely what Immortan Joe thinks of his followers.

What’s an excellent way to show that the Guardian of Gas Town is a man of wealth and taste? Why, reveal that up in his high tower overlooking his domain, he possesses a massive mural of an absolutely gorgeous painting from before the end times that he recreated himself, with only some pages from a book for reference!

I’m sure we all remember that moment in Fury Road where the Dag cuts that terrifying chastity belt off of Cheedo, and Angharad firmly says ‘We’re not going back,’ and that’s all that needs to be said about how horrendous life in Immortan Joe’s harem was? Well, now we get to see numerous women in light airy clothes, drifting about the harem, one of them coming up to Furiosa and telling her with a smile that she’s safe now – even while all of them are wearing those dreadful belts.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

The first mission the Court send their newly minted Talon on is an assassination attempt on the ward of one Bruce Wayne… Dick Grayson.

Calvin— can’t kill Dick. He can’t.

He didn’t know it would be the boy he grew up in the circus with they want him to murder in cold blood. He didn’t know— didn’t recognize him until the knife was already at his throat.

But he remembers now. And he won’t do it. Never. Never.

He’ll run. Disappear. Dick doesn’t know who he is, it’s better that way, and if he’s lucky the Court will be too busy hunting him to care about the failed assassination.

Unfortunately for Calvin, Dick does remember; Recognizes the Talon.

And he’s not inclined to let his childhood best friend slip through his fingers again after years of believing him dead.

[palepuppytimetravel]

Sam waking up from a nightmare, crying and shaking, Dean hurries to be by his side...

"Hey it's ok Sammy, it was just a nightmare"

Then it happens again and again and so on for like a month.

Until Sam finally breaks and confesses what his nightmare is...

Sam, sweating and trembling, says, "Dean, I miss him so much"

"Who Sammy?"

"Lucifer"

Dean feels like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water over him.

[sallymew4]

hhnnghhh oohgg. namgyu. boytoy

[s0fter-sin]

god the way ghost’s voice drops when he tells soap, “you’ll need to improvise to survive”

before that, everything he says is steady but when he acknowledges that soap’ll have to do something outside his skill set, something he intimately knows to be difficult, his voice wavers. he does the same when he says, “welcome to guerrilla warfare”; it’s sombre and serious in a way he doesn’t act for the rest of the mission. if you read into it enough, he almost sounds apologetic; like he knows exactly what soap’s about to go through and wishes he didn’t have to

he keeps soap going; poking at him and making jokes, giving him tips and asking about his progress. he never lets him stop and take a second to think bc he knows the moment he does is the moment it'll all hit him; the betrayal, the pain, the fear, the deaths, all of it will drown him and if that happens, soap won't make it

he needs him to be a soldier through and through and he knows this is one of the worst kinds of battlefields you could end up on

and the only times he slips is when he acknowledges that fact

it happens again when he says, "tryin' to get you here alive and in one piece". his jovial dark humour facade drops for just a moment when he has to face the potential reality of losing soap. then he tries to pick it back up again with, "one of us has to survive to tell the tale"; completely discounting himself as a survivor to try and rally soap and make him think it’s all down to him

and soap does the same thing

when he's calling out for ghost on the radio, he's tentative, testing the frequency, then when he doesn’t get a response, he grows desperate; "ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?"

then when ghost answers, he smooths out his voice; he hides the pain, the fear, and no matter what response you give to ghost asking if he’s injured, soap brushes it off (“i’m good”, “what’s the difference?”, “i’m not a medic”). soap decides it’s in ghost’s best interest to hide the extent of his injuries

he doesn’t know where ghost is, if he’s secure, if he has any weapons; he doesn’t even know if he’s in las almas until he says, “there’s a church, i’m headed to it”. for all he knows, he could’ve run in the complete opposite direction. if ghost knows he’s hurt, then his attention would be split between his own survival and soap’s

and soap, who lets himself be poked and prodded towards the church, needs to hide his own doubts. maybe he needs ghost to believe he'll make it so he himself can believe it ("what are my odds?" "don't make me bet against you", "think i'll live that long?" "probably not")

he all but begs ghost to tell him he'll get through it and if he knows just how bad off he is, maybe he'll change his mind. maybe he'll think he won't make it to the church

maybe he'll leave him alone for good

"you injured?"

"i’m good"

"let's find out how good you are"

[angheling]

Here’s a little doodle dump of Tonis I put together because I love him

[mytdpblog]

OKAY BUT LIKE

If Harrows soul was indeed put in Pip... Didn't Viren have a way to get him back out? Or was that his plan all along, to take over Katolis and let everyone think Harrow is actually dead and let him be king? Since he wanted Ezran and Callum dead too😬

[partycatty]

i must be real with you all. 2018 was a dark time for me.

[merakiui]

Omg the amount of potential from the event’s recent chapter😆..I know you’re gonna cook so well with it

(ʃƪ¬‿¬) and cook I shall hehehehehehe. No one does it quite like Skully J. Graves. I still can't get over the fact he drugged the Jack Skellington... his beloved idol!!!!! And his voice when saying the enchantment for his UM!!!! WAAAA SO CUTE!!!! I love his voice a lot.

My thoughts are oscillating between yan horror, shameless horny, and sweet fluff for him. He did nothing wrong. I think the real scary night is the entire cast catching Skully and I making out in the cemetery. >:D they will have to pry us apart. We're meant to be methinks!!!!!

[s0fter-sin]

idk why it wouldn’t let me answer this @kissmesharman but i absolutely love this, ghost not knowing how to process his omegan traits, to allow himself to be the one who is vulnerable and be protected instead of protecting is so ‼️ being soft, being open and accepting always came with consequences; it was always met with pain and betrayal and you only have to learn a lesson so many times before it sticks

the insidious ways roba and his ilk tried to force him into complacency, using their pheromones and rumbling and scruffing to trick his instincts into submitting- all they did was make ghost bury his omega so deep inside, he almost laughed at the irony of his own burial. even after he’s exhumed, he doesn’t hear it for years; naturally doesn’t heat even without suppressants, doesn’t purr, doesn’t feel that innate safety an alpha’s presence is supposed to bring

just being near other designations calms you down, whether they’re family, pack or even strangers thrown together in too-cramped barracks. it levels out your hormones, gives you people to act your instincts out on, and it’s never a surprise to walk into the cherries’ barracks and find them all tucked inside the resident omega’s nest; discordant purrs and chuffs layering over each other, too-big feet tangled together, still young enough for the milky smell of pup to cling to the edges of their scent especially clumped together like this. a lot of them won’t make it through selection, won’t find pack in each other but it’d be cruel to strip them of this simple comfort

ghost hasn’t stepped inside a nest in almost a decade

hasn’t felt the desire to build up softness and safety, to spread that feeling of home to the 141 even after he admits to himself that they’re pack. even after months of rejection - growling at soap’s happy chuffs whenever he saw him, pumping off bitterly aggressive pheromones to drown out gaz’s pack?home?safe?good? scent until he knew the beta felt sick with the sour poison, avoiding price whenever he was in pre-rut despite it being the most tempting and warm time of year for an omega to be near an alpha, those days before the terrible need when alphas are all affection, rut drunk with the happiness and safety of pack - they still welcomed him with open arms and bared necks as if he were a second pack alpha and not an omega

he’ll posture and loom over any unfamiliar presence, anyone that could potentially be a threat to his pack; his growls a thunderous undercurrent that shakes the very ground and makes anyone who hears it submit on instinct. soap and gaz happily submit to him; almost vibrating in place when he scents them, enduring their appeasing nibbles and licks at his hidden mouth, falling to heel whenever he decides to take over a situation. price shows it in other ways; nose blind after too many breaks and too many cigars, he lets ghost gentle him when his stress reaches its peak, hangs his head and just breathes as ghost threads his fingers together and cups them around his neck, squeezing his scent glands with his palms. ghost bumps their temples together and they’ll just stand there until the burnt scent of tension leaks out of the air

they’re not shy with their submission until most people just assume ghost’s an alpha based purely on the actions of his pack

they’ll never point it out, but the 141 has never suffered for lack of a pack nest. bc ghost unknowingly makes individual nests wherever they go

he’ll push soap into the comfiest sofa cushion after scoping out a safe house, tug gaz’s jacket straight when he uses it as a pillow and eye mask in one, pace in front of the bedroom price claimed to ensure his pack alpha is safe inside his den. he divies out rations, always opens them and switches the desserts so gaz and soap don’t argue over who got the better one; takes the instinctual first bite of anything scavenged or hunted to know it’s safe just to wait until everyone’s done eating and full before taking his own portion. they all present themselves for ghost’s inspection after missions; lets him run his hands and nose over them to check for injuries and it’s ghost who more often than not ends up taking care of them instead of sending them down to medical

they’ll never tell him, never make him face his own behaviour before he’s ready to come to terms with it himself. as much as ghost’s convinced himself otherwise, his omega is alive and well and his pack will welcome his shy return whenever he feels ready to step back into the light

[wolfsetfree-if]

This might be weird to ask, but if MC doesn't leave the room. . . how do they pee? They don't go outside and using the human sized bathroom that's probably beyond the door would be difficult, esp if they hurt their leg.. so yeah. When Bela told my MC about the bathroom this thought just struck me and now I'm hyperfixating on it. In the cage they probably had something like.. I dunno.. a bucket?

:,)

This is the ask I would hope would never come...

I have asked myself the same question, and I have spent a couple of nights thinking about this... the reality is that I purposefully glossed over the issue because... I don't realy know🥲

The most probable answer I have is that the bathroom (the two bathrooms in the house actually), as the rest of the house, have been designed to be functional as a wolf and as a human. Because the pack doesn't always stay in human form, and they too would need to use the restroom at times...

So maybe they designed one to use specifically as a wolf? Kinda similar to a squat toilet (if that's the term), made to be accessible and easily used by a wolf.