#not an attack on people who have those pets

[jazeswhbhaven]

Theory Time!!! (please don't criticize me too hard on this I'm only throwing caution to the wind)

⚠There are spoilers below the cut from Chapter 7 and other parts of the game new players may have missed or not read yet, proceed at your own risk⚠

Let's begin with the last part of the sub-story. There was not much happening, a friendly day of Ppyong hanging out with the bestie and then....

This stood out to me. He was already acting out of character earlier in the sub story for this chapter after he ended up in the hospital. Before then he was perfectly fine and behaving "as normal". What is it that he wants to forget? Hasn't his life been pretty standard for a average man growing up in SK? He also doesn't do anything too bad, so one starts to question...

Also, beforehand, Minhyeok truthfully never did want to know much about what happens in Hell other than the random question he asked back in Chapter 4 about death when he was visiting Ra-On's parents' graves. *keep this in mind I'm going to mention it later*

Now, when he mentions this here it's a big fucking clue that something is not right. Usually asking hypotheticals like this is prepping the other for the real question/confession just in case they might have a bad reaction to being told the truth. It seems though that Ppyong affirmed his worries that he would be friends with someone who isn't a devil as long as they were on Hell's side. Like Samael (Leamas). But then...it happens....

Minhyeok is fucking gone right before he was about to say something incredibly important and could change the dynamic of his and Ppyong's friendship. What's more is that I'm guessing that right around the time that Ra-On and the others found the Minhyeok child version from what was said here.

And then....this.

This is a big cliffhanger and a huge clue that something is going to happen to Minhyeok to where there will no longer be moments like we saw before between him and Ppyong. Now, I am quite sure this doesn't mean "death" in the way that's typical. This could mean that this version of Minhyeok will no longer exist and this is where my theories come in---->

Theory A: Minhyeok is Ra-On's Guardian Angel

So if go all the way back to beginning, Minhyeok jumped in front of Gabriel's attack to protect Ra-On

"I don't have hard feelings for you"

He says the same thing to Minhyeok before slashing him across the chest in an instant. To me, since the beginning I thought the phrase as a bit odd considering when would Gabriel had seen Minhyeok before?

Unless he absolutely has

Gabriel is not against killing his own people. Neither are his brothers. This is shown plenty times in other instances. Minhyeok originally being a guardian angel for Ra-On since their parents death would be possible because angels, like Leamas have decided to go rouge and no longer do the bidding of "God's plan" if it meant murdering those you loved.

Minhyeok as a Guardian Angel for Ra-On could simply be...over time and each generation he's manifested as a human so he could keep a close eye on the descendants of Solomon. Perhaps before he was Minhyeok, he was someone else, and in the very beginning he was originally an angel who fell in love with Solomon and vowed to protect his descendants in any shape or form.

Now, that's really throwing some stuff out there based on this interaction but don't worry I've got other stuff too to help my thought process based on what happened after he was slashed.

Classic.

But Satan confirmed it. Minhyeok is out of the building. Using human logic...and the amount of time it probably took for Satan and Gabriel to do their thing, he'd been sitting there for possibly over five minutes or more pretty much "dead". Any human gone for that long is guaranteed to be gone. And in the rules of death for any movie I've seen...when you do ask for a loved one to come back, they aren't themselves. Think "Pet Semetary" rules.

But even after the contract was sealed between Satan and Ra-On, he was there to take them anyway regardless of what contract they may or may not have wanted to form.

And there's Minhyeok acting pretty much like himself. Nothing out of the ordinary except this huge scar on his chest.

Now I'm going to take you back to the Halloween event. I don't have specific screenshots for this because I was a dummy and didn't record it 💀 But follow me the best possible.

During Minhyeok's visit to Hell with Ppyong by his side, it was very strange that with every single angel attack, he only suffered scratches and bruises. There's explosions, weapons, and he's defenseless and yet...he didn't immediately die.

THEN, Minhyeok runs into each Seraphim. Michael avoided him, Raphael attacked him and threw him into a wall but then decided...nah I won't. Then Gabriel yet again tried to kill him but this time it didn't work due to the contract Ra-On made and it overriding the damage Gabriel's scythe brings...to where Minhyeok can not be killed by it ever again. Gabriel decides to pack it up though frustrated because he ofc was unaware of said contract ever being made on Minhyeok in the first place.

Here's where my Guardian Angel theory also gets somewhat supported in a strange way...

Minhyeok must have been under Gabriel's rule, hence why he just keeps trying to kill him because he went against God in the first place. Also it appears that Gabriel only focuses on things he deems important so anything else might get ignored or tucked away so he doesn't remember all the details correctly. I think his speech pattern is not only a part of his personality, but him truly trying to remember if he already said something or did something before.

The reason the other two Seraphim didn't bother touching him, is that they are aware of his purpose and his status after seeing the slash mark glow on his chest. (yes it was glowing apparently)

Ya'll are in luck I found this screenshot in one of my old as fuck posts lol

You see how he's perfectly fine??? I even questioned back then how could he possibly be okay after being fucking thrown through a brick building by Raphael who could clearly kill him in a second flat.

yeahhhhh yeahhh something's up

But the thing about it, is remember Satan said Minhyeok wouldn't remember too much of anything after being revived and the thing is Minhyeok does end up talking with Gabriel and he does remember him and Gabriel remembers him too.

But before anything else gets discussed Satan shows up anyway and that's done and done.

Now if you're wondering how could no one detect that Minhyeok is an angel the entire time, it's very easy.

Remember no one could clock Leamas as an angel? Everyone pretty much accepted him as a devil and went along with it. The only one who was even skeptical was Sitri but I chalked that up to him being like that in the first place.

I believe that because it was Gabriel that disguised him, that power is great enough to even trick the Kings, so imagine an angel's soul that travels through every human destined to be near Solomon's descendants? With that much time to cloak yourself, surely no one would be able to notice anything.

Minhyeok's memories, everything he went through ofc is valid. But he's had to do it often and so well, that each life he lives as a human gets eaiser, that is until...something different happens.

The reason all of this is coming to a head, is because this Guardian Angel never expected to fall in love with one of Solomon's descendants, that being Ra-On and now it's complicated.

How does this tie in with child Minheyok?

He mentions once after his fainting spell "I should have grown up sooner" and then later..."Growing up isn't always a good thing" It could be that now since Ra-On is in Hell, and he can't do much to protect them while on Earth he feels perhaps he has failed them somehow and in order to truly save them...he has to start over. The only way he can is to manifest himself in Hell as said child in order to look over them and then later he would then reveal his angel form once all is said and done.

Theory B: Minhyeok became an angel after dying

Let's start with some lore from Chapter 4's sub-story. Ppyong made it very simple that humans just die, they are not meant to go to Heaven nor Hell, their soul is just sort of floating around aimlessly.

However, the options as he states, if you have special talents or are a good being you are called to God and given a chance to either live as a devil in Hell, an angel or Heaven or forever in the human world.

Given the circumstances, that Minhyeok sacrificed himself for Ra-On, this is very much an option that happened, however there was a contract made at the same time to bring him back and this could affect things. Also, God is MIA so these terms could very much be different in Minhyeok's case.

Gabriel pretty much made the choice for him with his scythe. The contract brought him back and because of the injury now he's no longer the Minhyeok everyone knew and grew up with. The angel part of him is dormant during this time and low key to where he doesn't even realize it himself. Thus why everything went back to "normal" for him.

But in Chapter 7, once Ra-On got closer to the Ark Covenant....things were changing up. And the part of the trailer of Gabriel mentioning "did he have something to do with that" and a obscured silhouette of a mystery angel....

It's very possible that Gabriel indirectly turned Minhyeok into an angel and now he has someone to help bring Ra-On to Heaven which was part of the plan in the beginning.

This would be why we see Minhyeok suddenly acting out of character after his fainting spell, suddenly being reminiscent and also tell Minseok (the older brother) to be careful.

This would also explain Minseok not recognizing his own brother and being uneasy the entire time about his behavior being out of the ordinary. This theory is uh a little harder for me to validate but it's there!

Theory C: Minhyeok isn't Minhyeok at all, but rather a clone of an existing angel in Heaven meant to keep an eye on if any of Solomon's descendants pop up

This could easily tie in my previous theories in bits and pieces. Gabriel having no issue killing said "clone" because he knows he can just make another one and it's purpose has been fulfilled. Since Ra-On is still alive though, this causes problems for him so he has to go back and rethink.

Issue though, is that Ra-On cares for Minhyeok and asked for him to be brought back. So now this clone is running around, Gabriel is pissed about that but not too concerned which is why he's left him alone, again he's stuck on Earth, unable to get in Gabriel's way so why should he care?

When Ra-On is in the Reverse Babel Tower, Gabriel has to set everything into motion, but at the same time Minhyeok's clone is reacting to said change as well. This is when we get child Minhyeok who could very well, just a different form of Minhyeok's true angel form which isn't ready to be revealed to Ra-On just yet. This could also tie into why Minhyeok on Earth vanished. His existence is no longer necessary which is why that was the last time Ppyong would ever see him again.

Things to think about:

So...what about him giving Ra-On his cum for energy?

It's funny that none of the devils ever stated that Solomon needed both exclusively. It could be that he was just that powerful of a human and adapted so well that he didn't need both sources.

At the same time, since Minhyeok wouldn't be human in either case, perhaps it was never human essence needed in the first place, but angel essence and devil essence to keep humans thriving in Hell.

Where did Solomon get his dose of angel essence? Well...that I'm unsure of without throwing a wild ass accusation that he didn't need it because he had formed a relationship with God, and thus one night with him meant he'd have essence for eternity.

wild huh...

So what about the Kim family? It could be possible that Minhyeok didn't even exist until Ra-On's parents died. This would be why Minseok had a lapse in not recognizing him in the hospital because he never existed in the first place and it was just a false memory planted in his head.

Because think about it, after Minheyok's disappearance, and one day Ppyong tries to find Minseok as Juno only to be told "Huh? I don't have a younger brother, you must have me mistaken for someone else." and this crushes Ppyong's world. (i know sad stuff I APOLOGIZE)

I'm pretty sure that's all I had in terms of what I think is going on with Minhyeok, which tbh this ruins my idea that he and Ra-On are the OTP...because I mean what are they gonna go back to? He ain't there anymore and it's very much leaning toward the fact that Minhyeok is really an angel T^T

Like??? I wouldn't even know what to do in that instance as Ra-On I think I'd just be irritated and go to Niflheim and sleep in Belphie's room for like a week or something or have Buer do that pressure thing so I can be knocked out for a while. ANYWAYS, as I said at the very beginning these are just my theories and I don't expect any of them to make sense to everyone nor do I think it's gonna happen exactly as I stated. BUT yes, please feel free to pop in my inbox or reply with your thoughts. I'm sure we are all thinking similar in some ways.

[skyward-floored]

Happy appreciate a dragon day, more hdw au. This takes place sometime after this fic here, but beyond that I don't have the exact timing down. It doesn't matter too much though. (Injury/blood warning, also a bit of vomit)

This will have an eventual part two.

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Link wakes up to his head pounding so intensely it feels like Darunia is stomping around inside of his skull.

He drags his eyes open with a groan, squinting against the pain, and tries to focus through the blurriness of his vision. Someone was talking, he thought, but the voice didn’t seem familiar. There was also a rag over his mouth, and Link grunts, wishing he could take a deep breath.

Where was he? What had happened?

He didn’t remember... much of anything, but he must have gotten here somehow. Wherever here, was.

Link focuses on trying to get the blurriness of his vision to fade, blinking and attempting to focus. It works somewhat, and his vision clears enough for him to see when a man walks up to him, a smirk on his face.

Uh oh.

“The glorious hero finally decides to grace us with his presence,” he says, and another blurry figure walks up, tearing the rag from his mouth.

Link winces, and someone laughs, and ice slips into his stomach. His vision focuses a little more, and Link looks around, taking in the dingy room, the group of men in soldier uniforms, the... tools on the table.

He can’t help but swallow at the sight of those.

“Where am I?” he demands, pulling at his tied wrists. They're already sore. “What do you want?”

“All kinds of things,” the man closest to him sneers. “Grant over there wants his hand back. Marc wants justice for his family. Me, I want to see a pretty scarfed traitor on his knees, screaming and begging before we kill him.”

Link’s stomach churns but he ignores it. “If you’re referring to me, I’m no traitor.”

The man laughs. “No? Bold words, considering who you are. Half beast. The son of the dragon that the sorceress had leading her army, a half-monstrous brat.”

Link pales.

“Who told you that?” he demands, still pulling at his wrists. A very small circle of people are aware of that secret, and he trusts all of them not to have spilled it. How does this man know?

The soldier merely crosses his arms, a smirk on his lips.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s obviously true though, one only has to look at you to know you’re not true Hylian,” he sneers, and Link bristles, ignoring the hurt the words ignite in him. “The son of the sorceress’s pet attack dog.”

“Volga did not join Cia willingly,” Link says coldly. “And his actions have no bearing on mine.”

“Don’t they?” the man says in a mocking tone, putting his face close to Link’s. “You’re the son of a murderer. I saw him burn men alive with his flames and then tear the corpses in half. He’s nothing but a scaly weapon that likes to pretend it’s a person.”

Link’s blood boils. His relationship with Volga is more than complicated, but that’s just wrong.

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

The man punches him in the face.

“You’re no better,” he scoffs as Link reels, pain throbbing across his face, warmth dripping from his nose. “Killing anyone who turns on you. Letting the sorceress use copies of you to kill your men. Letting a dragon fight at your side, knowing he’s a murderer.”

He draws his sword, and holds it near Link’s neck.

“You’re a beast, and you deserve to die like one.”

“Killing me won’t solve anything,” Link says quietly, resisting the urge to swallow. “Cia is dead. Hurting me won’t heal your scars. It won’t get your families back.“

“No. But your screams will be satisfying all the same,” the man sneers, and pulls his sword back. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it slowly. Shall we start with your hands? Maybe a finger or two...”

“How about we give him marks to match Caydin’s?” a voice says from further back, and the man with the sword grabs Link’s chin, tilting it to the side.

“Good idea. We’ll make his bigger though,” the man grins, and pulls a dagger out and sets it against Link’s cheek. “Maybe remove an eye while we’re at it.”

Jeers and laughs follow the comment, and Link takes a steady breath as the steel caresses his cheek, forcing himself not to react.

They’re looking for a reaction. And he won’t give it to them.

Even when the blade begins to drag down his cheek, Link bites his tongue and tries not to voice his pain. He won’t react. He won’t.

The blade just starts to flirt near his eye when a noise echoes somewhere outside of the room, distant but loud. Link is so startled that he forgets to force back a reaction, and he gasps as the blade digs into his cheek.

The man grins, dragging it down his face all the way to Link’s chin in a slow movement. A small whine escapes Link without his permission, and the man positions his weapon right beneath an eyebrow, eyes glinting maliciously. Link glares back at him, determined not to cower even though his cheek aches and throbs and there's blood tracing down his face and the blade is right over his eye and he’s trembling in anticipation of losing it.

Then a roar booms through the hall, and a dragon bursts into the room, half-destroying the doorway.

The man closest to him hisses with rage and snatches something off the table nearby, jabbing it into Link’s arm without any hesitation. Link feels a sharp prick even as relief hits him at the sight of Volga tearing his way into the room, and the man beside him looks...

...Smug?

The other men scatter with shouts and screams as the dragon leaps for them, blue eyes blazing. A single swing of his claws is enough to knock most of them out of commission, and the rest flee when he turns on them, the man who had been on the verge of removing Link’s eye narrowly escaping a blast of fire.

The room is quickly void of enemies, and Volga turns to Link, melting out of his dragon form and into a human one. He rushes over to him, and Link dazedly watches his eyes dart across his form, pausing on his bloodied face. Fury flickers in his gaze.

“Are you injured elsewhere?” Volga asks sharply, slicing away his bonds with a claw. Link is too stunned to speak, relieved and reeling from the events of the past several moments, and Volga takes his shoulders in his hands and gives him a shake. “Snap out of it Hero, are you hurt?”

“I don’t— I don’t think so?” Link says uncertainly, having finally found his voice. His arm hurts, and his face, and so do a few other parts of him, but he’s pretty sure he can walk. It’s nothing too serious. Hopefully.

Volga stares at him, then huffs and quickly removes his hands from his shoulders.

“Good. We need to move quickly if we’re going to get out of here. Follow me.”

Volga stands and turns, and Link gets to his feet, wobbling a little at the stiffness in his limbs. Volga starts moving though, so Link is forced to move to keep up with him, ignoring the pounding in his skull and aching legs.

He feels like someone got a rolling pin and went to town on him, aches all over his body, the pounding still keeping up behind his eyes. Link wipes some of the blood from his face, cheek stinging and throbbing, and he swallows. His chest feels tight as they move, and despite how he’d like to ask Volga exactly how he found him and got in here, he saves his breath for running.

His steps trail further and further behind Volga’s though, the odd tightness in his chest increasing, his legs wobbling the further they go. His arm starts to ache, then numb, and it hangs limply at his side. And as if that’s not worrying enough, his vision starts to wobble as well, especially when he turns corners. His more than certain concussion must be worse than he thought if he’s having this much trouble.

They reach some stairs and Link’s breath wheezes, and his steps drag more and more, despite how hard he tries to keep up through endless tunnels and passageways.

Finally, he can’t do it anymore.

“Volga,” Link coughs, leaning heavily against a wall, “V-Volga wait.”

The dragon stops and looks back at him, and concern flickers over his gaze as he strides back to his side.

“I-I just... need a second,” Link wheezes, and Volga leans down so he’s nose-to-nose with Link. He looks him over again, more slowly than the first examination he’d given, then breathes in long and slow. Link waits for him to say something, unsure of what he’s doing, and slightly afraid to ask. Is he... smelling him?

Volga’s expression suddenly darkens.

“...Safflina,” he growls, something flashing in his gaze. “They weren’t taking chances.”

Before Link can ask what that means, Volga lunges forward and pulls him into his arms, resuming his quick stride down the hallway. Link scrambles to hold on with only one working arm, head spinning from the sudden movement.

“Whoa, wh—”

“You’ve been poisoned, hero,” Volga says without looking at him, speeding his pace further. “Time is of the essence.”

“What? But... safflina isn’t poisonous,” Link says, blinking a little dizzily.

“There is a rare strain of it that is poisonous for dragons in high concentrations,” Volga says curtly. “But that knowledge isn’t well known. Those fools who captured you would have no method of obtaining such information.”

“So how did they..?”

“I don’t know,” Volga growls, his grip tightening just a little. “But it doesn’t bode well.”

Link frowns, then coughs, his breath a little tight in his throat. His stomach is churning now, and he goes a little more limp in Volga’s arms without meaning to.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but it feels like Volga holds him a little tighter.

Lantern light flickers off the walls as Volga’s steps pad rapidly through what Link guesses is an old outpost that got phased out of use. He’s not entirely sure, especially since his vision is being rather unreliable suddenly, but he can’t think of where else they’d be.

He wishes Proxi were here. She’d probably know.

“Hero, stay awake.”

Link blearily reopens his eyes, not even realizing he’d closed them, and sees Volga is looking at him rather intensely.

“You will not wake back up if you fall asleep, stay awake,” he repeats, and Link summons what strength he’s got left, trying to fight against the dizziness and darkness that threaten to pull him under. The torchlight flickering off the walls makes the space behind his eyes hurt, and keeping them open becomes a monumental task.

His arm stings and cold trickles into his chest, stealing his strength as it feeds. It’s merciless, and growing rapidly, and Link finds his eyelids falling no matter how hard he tries to stop them.

“Link,” Volga snaps, and if Link were more awake, he might pick up the fear in it. “Do not sleep.”

“F...ive minutes...” Link mumbles, and gets a shake for his trouble.

“No. Wake up right now,” Volga snarls. “I will not lose another to safflina, wake up.”

Link peels his eyes open again, dark blots clouding his vision. He can vaguely make out Volga’s face, see the horns on his helmet, but not... really. The blue of his eyes stands out, but that’s all he can truly see.

They look strangely panicked.

“Link your mother will kill me if you die, WAKE UP.”

Volga shakes him again and Link’s stomach revolts, bile rising in his throat. He gags, and the shaking immediately stops, a muttered curse flicking past his ears.

Link feels himself get tilted to the side as he vomits up what little is inside his stomach, weakly retching before falling limp with a pathetic whine.

Volga’s arms tilt him back the moment he’s finished, and hold him tight. Link thinks they might speed up after that, the sound of steps pounding in his ears. He feels dizzy and cold, throat burning, hurting deep inside. A twitch runs through him, and Volga shifts his grip, holding him even tighter, his arms radiating warmth.

And some long-forgotten instinct in Link’s mind recognizes the warmth Volga is giving off as safe, protection.

Maybe it’s the dragon in him. Maybe it’s the poison addling his brain, or the blood loss. Maybe it’s the way Volga is cradling him to his chest with a hand in his hair and still shouting for him to stay awake, even if the exact words aren’t really reaching Link.

But whatever it is, despite how horrible he feels overall, he also feels... safe.

So Link curls into Volga’s hold, and drifts.

[the-travelling-witch]

OH MY GOD HOLLY UR KITTEN WHISKERS IS ADORABLE!! Rest in peace I’m sorry she passed, but my goodness I love those cats with the folded short ears

She was truly adorable

she really was adorable!! also she wasn’t actually a folder short ear (hence no folded ears) but a british shorthair!!

i’m not a fan of pets being bred in a way that borders animal abuse and i’d never get a pet like that; so no cats with pushed in noses or pugs that can’t breathe

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

[sweetandglovelyart]

Are there any other Kirby fans on here who are also fans of Star Trek? I know of a couple people already, but I’m trying to see if there’s anyone else. I personally see a lot of parallels between Kirby and Star Trek, and some of my Kirby fanart is Star Trek-inspired, so that’s why I’m asking.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

average United States contains 1000s of pet tigers in backyards" factoid actualy [sic] just statistical error. average person has 0 tigers on property. Activist Georg, who lives the U.S. Capitol & makes up over 10,000 each day, has purposefully been spreading disinformation adn [sic] should not have been counted

I have a big mad today, folks. It's a really frustrating one, because years worth of work has been validated... but the reason for that fucking sucks.

For almost a decade, I've been trying to fact-check the claim that there "are 10,000 to 20,000 pet tigers/big cats in backyards in the United States." I talked to zoo, sanctuary, and private cat people; I looked at legislation, regulation, attack/death/escape incident rates; I read everything I could get my hands on. None of it made sense. None of it lined up. I couldn't find data supporting anything like the population of pet cats being alleged to exist. Some of you might remember the series I published on those findings from 2018 or so under the hashtag #CrouchingTigerHiddenData. I've continued to work on it in the six years since, including publishing a peer reviewed study that counted all the non-pet big cats in the US (because even though they're regulated, apparently nobody bothered to keep track of those either).

I spent years of my life obsessing over that statistic because it was being used to push for new federal legislation that, while well intentioned, contained language that would, and has, created real problems for ethical facilities that have big cats. I wrote a comprehensive - 35 page! - analysis of the issues with the then-current version of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in 2020. When the bill was first introduced to Congress in 2013, a lot of groups promoted it by fear mongering: there's so many pet tigers! they could be hidden around every corner! they could escape and attack you! they could come out of nowhere and eat your children!! Tiger King exposed the masses to the idea of "thousands of abused backyard big cats": as a result the messaging around the bill shifted to being welfare-focused, and the law passed in 2022.

The Big Cat Public Safety Act created a registry, and anyone who owned a private cat and wanted to keep it had to join. If they did, they could keep the animal until it passed, as long as they followed certain strictures (no getting more, no public contact, etc). Don’t register and get caught? Cat is seized and major punishment for you. Registering is therefore highly incentivized. That registry closed in June of 2023, and you can now get that registration data via a Freedom of Information Act request.

Guess how many pet big cats were registered in the whole country?

97.

Not tens of thousands. Not thousands. Not even triple digits. 97.

And that isn't even the right number! Ten USDA licensed facilities registered erroneously. That accounts for 55 of 97 animals. Which leaves us with 42 pet big cats, of all species, in the entire country.

Now, I know that not everyone may have registered. There's probably someone living deep in the woods somewhere with their illegal pet cougar, and there's been at least one random person in Texas arrested for trying to sell a cub since the law passed. But - and here's the big thing - even if there are ten times as many hidden cats than people who registered them - that's nowhere near ten thousand animals. Obviously, I had some questions.

Guess what? Turns out, this is because it was never real. That huge number never had data behind it, wasn't likely to be accurate, and the advocacy groups using that statistic to fearmonger and drive their agenda knew it... and didn't see a problem with that.

Allow me to introduce you to an article published last week.

This article is good. (Full disclose, I'm quoted in it). It's comprehensive and fairly written, and they did their due diligence reporting and fact-checking the piece. They talked to a lot of people on all sides of the story.

But thing that really gets me?

Multiple representatives from major advocacy organizations who worked on the Big Cat Publix Safety Act told the reporter that they knew the statistics they were quoting weren't real. And that they don't care. The end justifies the means, the good guys won over the bad guys, that's just how lobbying works after all. They're so blase about it, it makes my stomach hurt. Let me pull some excerpts from the quotes.

"Whatever the true number, nearly everyone in the debate acknowledges a disparity between the actual census and the figures cited by lawmakers. “The 20,000 number is not real,” said Bill Nimmo, founder of Tigers in America. (...) For his part, Nimmo at Tigers in America sees the exaggerated figure as part of the political process. Prior to the passage of the bill, he said, businesses that exhibited and bred big cats juiced the numbers, too. (...) “I’m not justifying the hyperbolic 20,000,” Nimmo said. “In the world of comparing hyperbole, the good guys won this one.”

"Michelle Sinnott, director and counsel for captive animal law enforcement at the PETA Foundation, emphasized that the law accomplished what it was set out to do. (...) Specific numbers are not what really matter, she said: “Whether there’s one big cat in a private home or whether there’s 10,000 big cats in a private home, the underlying problem of industry is still there.”"

I have no problem with a law ending the private ownership of big cats, and with ending cub petting practices. What I do have a problem with is that these organizations purposefully spread disinformation for years in order to push for it. By their own admission, they repeatedly and intentionally promoted false statistics within Congress. For a decade.

No wonder it never made sense. No wonder no matter where I looked, I couldn't figure out how any of these groups got those numbers, why there was never any data to back any of the claims up, why everything I learned seemed to actively contradict it. It was never real. These people decided the truth didn't matter. They knew they had no proof, couldn't verify their shocking numbers... and they decided that was fine, if it achieved the end they wanted.

So members of the public - probably like you, reading this - and legislators who care about big cats and want to see legislation exist to protect them? They got played, got fed false information through a TV show designed to tug at heartstrings, and it got a law through Congress that's causing real problems for ethical captive big cat management. The 20,000 pet cat number was too sexy - too much of a crisis - for anyone to want to look past it and check that the language of the law wouldn't mess things up up for good zoos and sanctuaries. Whoops! At least the "bad guys" lost, right? (The problems are covered somewhat in the article linked, and I'll go into more details in a future post. You can also read my analysis from 2020, linked up top.)

Now, I know. Something something something facts don't matter this much in our post-truth era, stop caring so much, that's just how politics work, etc. I’m sorry, but no. Absolutely not.

Laws that will impact the welfare of living animals must be crafted carefully, thoughtfully, and precisely in order to ensure they achieve their goals without accidental negative impacts. We have a duty of care to ensure that. And in this case, the law also impacts reservoir populations for critically endangered species! We can't get those back if we mess them up. So maybe, just maybe, if legislators hadn't been so focused on all those alleged pet cats, the bill could have been written narrowly and precisely.

But the minutiae of regulatory impacts aren't sexy, and tiger abuse and TV shows about terrible people are. We all got misled, and now we're here, and the animals in good facilities are already paying for it.

I don't have a conclusion. I'm just mad. The public deserves to know the truth about animal legislation they're voting for, and I hope we all call on our legislators in the future to be far more critical of the data they get fed.

[thecloudsarefalling]

Just kinda want to rant

I cannot stand what Israel is doing in the slightest. It's nothing short of a genocide. But on a more personal note, they're ruining the childhood of one of my closest childhood friends.

She would travel to Palestine every summer to visit family, I was never entirely sure of the exact place, but I definitely remember checking her location from time to time while looking over the Snapchat map to check my cousin's backpacking trip through Europe over that same summer, and I had definitely seen her within the Gaza strip many times

She has so many family members in Gaza, a handful had been caught in the US, lucky enough to evade the genocide, but not all of them. It's disheartening to see her childhood ripped apart by an overzealous army who have no idea who she is

Who any of the people in the Gaza Strip are

or those on the West Bank

When I repost the hundredth TikTok of the day about the genocide in Palestine, I mean it. I mean look at all of these people having their lives ripped away from them. I mean look at the lives of all of these children who will never get to experience the beauty of Palestine in the way my friend has. I mean look to all the people who have passed and those who continue to pass. Those committing suicide because their outlook for the future is dim. I mean look to those who could never begin to escape, killed by disease, illness, and the destruction of Gaza. I mean watch for the journalists who are being slaughtered in constant bombings and targeted sniper attacks for speaking out against Israel. I mean the family of both my childhood best friend and all of those whose lives, and land, are currently threatened by this genocide.

No one should have to be a martyr, not because of the cruelty of Israel, famine, disease, and most certainly not of greed. No parent should have to witness the death of their child, nor child witness the death of their parent. No partners, siblings, pets, or families should be torn apart because of greed.

I am outraged over this, but I feel so small because I don't have any way to help people escape Gaza. All I can do now is use my voice, and though I no longer subscribe to any religion, I pray for the freedom of those in Gaza, and for those in Palestine, that they'll be able to survive and live freely as they are meant to.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

Words: 2650

Notes/Warnings: Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Angst but also fluffy-ish stuff. Implied smut. Mention of pregnancy. I think that’s it. TG:M people ignore me. I don’t know what I’m doing here either, but i'm embracing it for now. 

Part 2

When your brother pierced through armor into pale flesh, you felt it as if he had driven that blade into your body instead of the body of the man you love. You felt the shock of icy steel penetrating warm and delicate tissue, and the suffocation that came from the mutilation of your lung. You felt droplets of blood run down your front as you reached for the blade that was not there. As children, you were taught not to remove it. Not unless sufficient care was nearby to stop the bleeding before too much was lost.

Paul did not respect that knowledge. He yanked his knife out of Feyd’s torso and watched with relief as he collapsed to the ground. His body landed with a thud that matched the heavy beat of your heart. A beat that reminded you your blood was rushing strong, keeping you alive while your lover was draining dry of the strength to keep himself from leaving this world, from leaving you. 

You wailed in the silence of those around you. Screamed at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face. You tried to go to him but the Fremen snatched you before you could reach him, forcing you to your knees, one of them slapping a hand over your mouth. This was not the time for hysterical outbursts; it was a time to stare in awe as a new leader accepted his victory and claimed power over the emperor and his daughter. 

“Shut up, girl,” a male voice spit in your ear. He was tired of the struggle you were putting up against the hand squeezing your face. You were ruining his opportunity to witness a beautiful moment in history. A defining moment. A moment you didn’t give two fucks about. 

No one spared you a glance save for the witch whose vibrant eyes were drilling into the side of your skull. A woman your father had instructed you receive as a stepmother following your third birthday. A manipulative woman whose smile in front of the Duke had masked the scowl permanently seared onto her face when looking at you—a decades-long act that the capture and death of your father had freed her from. And she’d wasted not a second displaying her distaste for his daughter. 

Not long ago you'd thought to thank Lady Jessica for not loving you. Her lack of love made her so terribly desperate to rid herself of you that when cornered the night your family was attacked, she’d thrown you right into the arms of the Harkonnens—a fate she believed would destroy you rather than thrust you into a life you would come to cherish.

“A gift for you, nephew,” the baron had said after the fighting ceased and the soldiers, with you in their grasp, had returned to their unfamiliar home.

Feyd-Rautha had not rushed when he descended the staircase and approached you for the first time. His eyes were unblinking as he’d taken in his present; a slow drawl from head to toe that sent shivers down your spine. 

“An Atreides,” Feyd had said in a low voice, deep and thick and eerily lovely.

The baron’s voice did not contain the same appeal. “Yes. Do you like it? A new pet for you to ruin.”

You’d stood frozen as Feyd traced a knuckle down your cheek before grasping your chin and running his thumb over your bottom lip. He’d possessed not a lick of shame when his index finger drew a line from the dip of your throat to your cleavage. There had been no consideration for your feelings when he tucked that same finger between your breasts and the neckline of your nightgown and lightly tugged you forward. 

You had gasped with your stumble, your hands pressing against his chest to catch your fall while he smirked at the blush tinting your cheeks. His tongue then darted out to dampen his lips before he moved his hand to the curve of your waist and squeezed. 

“Perfect,” He’d said, not in a loud declaration of appreciation, but in a tone meant for your ears only. Then he’d grabbed you by the wrist and led you to his chambers.

When the door had slammed behind you after you were jerked inside the room, you were suddenly filled to the brim with panic. You’d heard the rumors. What would he do to you? How would he do it? Would you suffer long? 

A tear had slipped down your cheek that, once noticed, was brushed away with his thumb. 

“Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”

You’d swallowed, stuttering, “Wh-What do you mean?”

He’d pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing pale skin taught over defined, well-trained muscle. Then he’d stepped into your space, inching you backward until your spine was flush with the wall. He’d fisted the flimsy, nearly see-through fabric of your nightgown in his hand and slowly dragged it up your body until fingers could sneak under the hem to graze your inner thigh.

You’d sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable waves of heat that rippled from his touch.

“Atreides or not, you’re much too precious to ruin the way my uncle suggests,” he had said, his lips a hair's-width away from yours. “I've been looking for you for so long. You're mine now, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He hadn’t loved your hesitation—you could see it in his eyes and in the downturn of his lips—but he was satisfied when you’d truthfully said:

“No.” Because you weren’t. Not after he had brushed that tear off of your cheek.

His next question had caused your heart to skip a beat from the concoction of emotions it shot through you. Fear of the unknown mixed with unexpected excitement.

“Have you done this before?” 

You’d shaken your head and in response he lightly nodded, his nose nudging yours. 

“You want to?” he’d asked, hiking your leg up to his hip, and you found yourself nodding as well. “I won’t make it hurt.”

You’d replied with a soft “Ok” before accepting his kiss with as much fervor as he was giving it, thankful that what you’d imagined was awaiting you upon your arrival in foreign territory was far from what you were receiving. 

Days later, when you had mentioned that he did not live up to the rumors of his cruelty extending to all areas of his life, he’d hummed. Said, “I make many bleed, and enjoy it. I feed off of their pain. Those who have been in my bed are not spared this, and it will not be uncommon for you to see me stained with the death of others, including my former pets.” 

He’d paused then, allowing you a moment to question your future as one of those pets, if that's what he considered you.

“But I have been searching for something that I’ve wanted for a very long time,” he’d said. “Something that hasn't existed within these walls. Something I will never want to harm. Something…soft…and sweet,” he had admitted to your surprise.

He’d then told you that you were that sweet thing. That he’d known it from the moment he saw you. That he was choosing you. 

But it was a choice that had its repercussions. 

All things must have balance, and you had tipped the scales. From his gentleness toward you, a darker, more gruesome beast emerged when facing off with others. A brutal warrior who never surrendered and never lost. A sadistic man who showed no mercy to the opponents whose blood you would later wash from his body. He had annihilated his previous reputation as just the famed killer of Geidi Prime and evolved into something more, all because of you.

That was why you thought he would win against Paul. Your brother was skilled, but the universe had long known the name Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his prowess in combat and his ruthlessness which had only grown with time. 

So why was it not your brother on the floor with his love sobbing and struggling to reach him?

In the thirteen days since your lover’s death, it is that question that has robbed you of all peace. 

Despite your brother having escorted you back to Caladan for the time being, you find no sense of home or happiness in your birthplace. You walk the beaches and fields that, as a child, you dreaded one day leaving, but they are not the same. Nearly a year has gone by since you were last here, however, so much of what you once loved about this planet is overshadowed by the shattered heart caused by Feyd's death. 

When you were young, your father would often express his wishes for your future. He would paint a beautiful image of you bringing your children to play in the gardens of your childhood home, carefree and unburdened. It was a source of comfort that he used to mask the reminder of your duty as an Atreides: that you would not be marrying and having children out of love, you would marry in the name of peace and produce heirs in the name of security. And it seems in the end, he was right.

With Feyd unable to claim you, Paul will be the one to secure new arrangements for your future, which just so happens to greatly fare in his favor. After all, he just declared war, and you are the ripened political pawn at his disposal.

“Are you well?”

You turn as sharply as you can at the intrusive voice, but the uncomfortable skirts of your dress are thick and stiff, restricting your movements. Feyd never made you wear anything like this and you forgot what it's like to be weighed down by layers of fabric. You fucking hate it.

Paul stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back and a light smile on his face. Clearing his throat, he joins you on the balcony attached to your old room. 

“I know we haven’t spoken much about what’s to come. I’m sure you’ve been curious,” he says. 

You shrug, shake your head, and return your gaze to the horizon where ocean meets sky. 

“We have matters to discuss.”

Matters such as where he will be sending you off to be married, you imagine. He must act quickly if he intends to establish and gain control over house alliances, since they weren't overly enthusiastic about accepting him as their leader.

“Let's sit down,” he tells you. He grasps your hand before you can object and guides you to one of the balcony benches. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat beside you and says, “I am going to ask you something. And I want honesty.”

You sigh. “What?”

“When you were with the Harkonnens for those many months, were you treated like a slave as I had feared, or were you something far from it?”

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important,” Paul states, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the way you wept over him after we fought, and how he denied every offer I made in exchange for your release…” With his pause, he shakes his head. “I thought maybe he had messed with your mind, confused you, and that was why you were so hysterical over his loss…but that’s not right, is it.”

“Paul–”

“Does he love you?”

It takes conscious effort to keep your body from shifting uncomfortably. “What is it to you?”

“He survived his wounds,” Paul says. 

The casualness with which he shares that news heavily contrasts everything that runs through you. Your heart stops. Your lips part, unsuccessful in drawing in oxygen. Your eyes no longer see anything but Feyd’s face as it flashes in front of you. The way he looked when he last smiled at you. The way he looked the last time he came inside of you. The look of him when he died—or almost died. Death had been there, looming over him. 

You’re trying to will away the tears. Paul is watching you too closely. “Wh–What?” you say.

“He’s alive, and he is demanding you be returned to him,” he informs you. “So, tell me: is he truly threatening me so aggressively over one of his ‘pets’? Or is he threatening me to get back the woman he loves?” 

The woman he loves. You never imagined yourself in a situation where your brother would ask if a member of a centuries-long rival house loves you. But then again, you never imagined a member of a centuries-long rival house loving you to begin with.

You remember the night he told you. It was late and your bodies were bare after having bathed together. You were searching for your nightgown when he said “Come to bed, my love.” 

You sighed, defeated. He’d called you that before, but whether it was real or not was such a mystery and it hurt your heart a little bit more each time. “You shouldn’t call me your love unless you mean it,” you finally told him. 

You heard his footsteps when he stood from the bed. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Why would I call you that if I do not mean it?” he asked. Then he hummed and said “You know me better than that, my love” before dipping his head lower and nipping the shell of your ear with his teeth. 

So yes, he loved you—loves you. But there’s something in Paul’s voice as he asks you that question that gives you pause. It’s too gentle as if luring you into a false sense of security. The Harkonnens are not known for their capacity to love, and Feyd loving you could be seen as a weakness; his one vulnerable spot.

As monotone as you can manage, you reply, “If you’re being threatened you should just send me back and be done with it. I know you have more important things to worry about.”

Paul’s lips thin in disappointment. “I can’t send you back,” he says. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He sighs. “Because I believe he loves you. And I need to see how far a Harkonnen is willing to bend for an Atreides,” he says. “If he wants you back, he will have to be open to negotiations.”

You stand sharply, take a few steps from him, and blow out a heavy breath through your nose. You were told your brother changed after drinking that magic water and it shows. Holding you hostage for political gain is not the same as marrying you off. 

“I would like to be done with this conversation,” you say with a huff.

“I understand,” he replies, so you turn to enter your bedroom. But before you’re fully through the door, he says, “There’s more, though.”

You freeze. 

“I had a dream,” he says, his voice coming closer. “There was a boy, no more than five years old. He had your features and your hair but his skin was of the same paleness as the Harkonnens.”  

Sucking in a breath, you brace yourself with a hand gripping the door’s frame. 

“You’re pregnant, sister,” he tells you, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. “But I'm very glad to know that the heir of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a product of love rather than an unfortunate incident,” he says. “Additional incentive, should it be necessary.”    

In your shock, you can’t look at him. He doesn’t need you to. You can see his smirk in your peripherals, then he pushes off the frame and heads toward the main door of your room. 

“Try to get some rest, sister,” he calls over his shoulder. “You really shouldn't be on your feet too long.”

[freebreadmoon]

is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?

YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing

requests are open!!

You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.

Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.

“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“

“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.

“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.

“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.

“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.

“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.

“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.

“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.

“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.

“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.

“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.

“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.

“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.

While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.

“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.

“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.

“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.

taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor

[emmyrosee]

Kenma loves you. He'd do everything for you.

But right now, five minutes away from marrying you, he's having one of the worst panic attacks in his life. Who thought inviting this many people to a wedding was a good idea? Who thought his social anxiety could manage that?

And when he manages to work himself into an absolute mess, clutching his chest as he grunts and pants into the air, he thinks this is it. This is when it crumbles, he’s going to pass out, and when he wakes up, you’re going to have left him for someone better, someone who can offer you the life you deserve.

Even with Kuroo cupping his cheeks in his hands, begging him to breathe and ground himself, asking him to look for colors and do basic math, it’s not enough. Now, there’s too many eyes on him, too many voices in his head, too much judgement. His world is spinning faster.

Until you come in.

You, pushing Kuroo out of the way, resting your forehead against Kenma’s as your thumbs roll over his hot cheeks, come in to save him, like a knight in shining armor. He grabs at you, letting the textures guide him back to some form of grounded, enough where the ringing in his ears stops and he can finally, finally, get a breath in.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he managed, but its tight and choked and filled with snot.

You don’t care. You move a hand to gently pet his hair, smoothing the messy locks from his face and hooking them behind his ear.

“Whats got you so spooked? Huh?”

“C-ant. Tell you.”

“Shhh, okay. That’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

Because kenma can’t tell you he can’t go out there and marry you in front of all those people. You’ll be heartbroken. But for now, all he can do is indulge in your touch and whimper out a few more sobs, hoping the feeling of suffocation will let off of his chest within a few more moments.

[deadghosy]

I was wondering if you could do a miniso penguin reader being a delivery boy for all of hell (mostly hazbin)

I JUST LOOKED IT UP AND OMGGGG ITS SO CUTEEE🦆💗🦆 AND YES I WILL! THANK YOU MY GHOST

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: you deliver mail all over hell, but mostly to your favorite place!

Okay starters off….you definitely get petted by the sinners who walk by you. Like you are so adorable!

I headcannon that you have a magic barrier that activates when you are in danger. Like say for example, a sinner tried to stab and mug but a bubble appears around you as you quack and roll away.

But like…you are the most known person in hell. YOU COULD BE WALKING AND GIVING MAIL AND IMMEDIATELY- “Hey [reader]!”

Yeah you’re quite known🦆🔥

The overlords love you! Carmilla adores you as you help her move her things around with her supplies of angelic metal. And Alastor….he joked about eating you up because of how cute you are..you definitely hide behind carmilla as she glared at him.

Alastor said sorry as he buys you ice cream for scaring you. (Charlie made him do it after carmilla snitched on him)

The most place you love giving mail to is the hazbin hotel! You like it there as you always get greeted by the people there gently. Charlie would pet you as she gushes how cute you are and how you should’ve been an angel.

Husk just pokes at your chubby and cute body as you quack and rub your face in his leg. You are the size of a penguin so guess how small you are 😭💗

You and fat nuggets are best friends, dead ass you both speak animal to each other and just gossip… “quack…” “oink oink..” “QUACK?!” You yelled pointing to Alastor as fat nuggets nodded seriously. Angel tried to record it but he just couldn’t help but laugh

Lucifer loves you! Like at first he would just watch you around hell secretly as he didn’t want to scare you off too easy. But soon he felt over protective at how pure and nice you are to other sinners and hell born

I headcannon every time it’s extermination, you would be forced to be at the hotel as you bake cookies to past the time helping Charlie and the other feel less stress as the angels kill the sinners.  

“So like…do you lay eggs or somethin'?” Angel asked looking at the egg boiz under you as they are sound asleep. You just stay there like a mama penguin as you shrugged.

“[READER] I CHOSE YOU!” Vaggie yells as you waddle to a person and hug them in need. Its funny to imagine you being used a Pokémon who’s only attack is “HUG SURPRISE!”

I headcannon you to use a rolling attack. LIKE FOR EXAMPLE, you are getting chased so you roll like a ball and BOWLING BALL THEY ASS! STRIKEEE‼️‼️

You have a room in the hotel, it’s just you don’t stay there often. But the other would loved if you stayed at the hotel with them as they find you lovely to around. Like imagine how cool it is to be tired from delivering mail all day just to go to the hotel and see your own room.

Immediately passing out in the soft bed😭🦆

I imagine you walking, more like waddling and the egg boiz just copy your waddling as they are still baby chickens in eggs.

Velvette definitely has you go to her section of the vee tower so you can wear those cute sailor boy outfits 😭 like imagine how cute that is….

Sir Pentious and nifty love you also as they find you adorable. The egg boiz love you, and nifty….she just finds you interesting how every sinner knows who you are and wants to be your best friend.

I can see you being sick and not coming to deliver mail to the hotel, and immediately you wake up sniffling as you waddle to your door to see a bunch of gift baskets as you quack surprised at all those candies and get better cards….man you are loved

[revelboo]

Do you mind writing an Optimus Prime part 2? Whenever 😄 inspiration finds you.

Sure! Also, I just accidentally found out that a single post can’t have over 100 links in it by accident with my Masterlist... Guess I get to par that down to the first chapters of everything and add actual previous/next links to the individual posts to navigate within a storyline.

And I’ve had a few people speculating about it and tried to make it a bit clearer now on the masterlist: the IDW stuff is all one big continuity with Lost Light and the random kink snippets clearly separated as alternate takes/AUs now.

Gravity pt 2

Optimus x Reader

• “You’re going to give them a heart attack when they come to if you don’t stop looming like that,” Ratchet mutters and Optimus looks up trying to decide if his old friend is joking. Given the frown, Ratchet’s serious and he’s not sure what to make of that. He’d known humans were fragile, but your heart can just stop? From fear? “They’re a little banged up, but fine,” Ratchet adds as Optimus stretches out a servo to touch your still form and then hesitates. You’re just so tiny, he’s not sure he can touch you without breaking you. “Who are you giving this one to?”

• Like it’s a forgone conclusion he’ll pawn watching over you on someone else. Someone less busy, less weighed down with duty. “It’s my responsibility,” he says, watching your chest rise and fall. You’ve been out since he caught you and so very still. He keeps his optics on you so he doesn’t have to see Ratchet’s expression. Because this is his responsibility and his guilt. He knows it’s not fair to trap you on the Ark, but keeping the surviving Autobots safe is his priority. And the other humans seem fine. Mostly.

• “Bumblebee would take them,” Ratchet offers, a hand touching his arm. “I think he’d be glad of the company.” Shaking his head, Optimus carefully curls his servos around your limp form and lifts you. Hears Ratchet venting tiredly behind him as he walks out and carries you through the halls to his quarters. Trailbreaker and Hound both turning to look when he walks by, curious. Maybe it’s been a mistake to try to keep his people far from humans. Maybe not. Sideswipe probably won’t be the last to abuse his rules, but he’s not ready to trust the humans to not betray them yet. He can’t.

• Your head is ringing, sinuses burning as you stiffly shift and your body complains about it. Why do you feel like one big bruise? There’s a blanket wrapped around you, but whatever you’re laying on isn’t that soft. Something presses so gently between your shoulder blades that it’s a ghost of a touch then slides down your spine. Repeats the stroke. Lifting your head, you squint up at a huge face staring down at you and everything slams back into focus. The Jeep that wasn’t a Jeep. The wreck. Giant, alien robots. One of which is holding you in one hand while it runs a huge finger down your spine again and again. You start shaking. That petting stopping when it notices.

• You’re awake. And not screaming. That has to be good thing, but remembering Ratchet’s warning, he rumbles and presses a servo carefully over your heart. It’s not stopped, but it is racing. A little, warm hand lands on his servo, your eyes wide in fear as you just tremble. And he understands, you have to realize how tiny you are compared to him, how easily you can be hurt. “You’re going to be okay, little one. I have you,” he says, optics snared on that tiny hand on his. And he knows he’ll protect you just like his Autobots. Be sword or shield for you, whatever you need. You’re his to care for now, that trembling fear hurting him to see.

• That rumbly, deep voice sings in your bones where you’re touching him, because that voice erased any doubts. Blue eyes is definitely a he. And as crazy as it is, you believe him despite the fear. There’s an earnestness in that voice that’s almost a promise of safety. Wonder mingles with the fear still thrumming through you as you stare at those pretty glowing eyes and think that they look unbelievably kind. The thought almost immediately followed with the certainty that you probably have a concussion.

Previous

Next

[eve-was-framed]

the amount of mass killings committed by us military veterans with a history of domestic violence should be a huge red flag but still the government and pretty much every news outlet seems to gloss over those factors completely every time this happens. data shows that at a disproportionate number of mass killers served in the military.

the most recent New Orleans mass killer was motivated by religious extremism, but also served in the military and planned on murdering his entire family but instead decided to drive his truck into a crowd of people.

the maine bowling alley shooter was a veteran with a history of domestic violence and chose that location because his ex liked to hang out there. before the shooting law enforcement and the military was warned by multiple people multiple times that he was planning to do something like this and they did nothing. 18 killed.

the sutherland springs shooter was a veteran with a well documented history of domestic violence and spent only 12 months in prison for attacking his wife and son and pointing a loaded gun at them, and was constantly threatening to murder them. he was later investigated for rape, had a history of animal abuse and bragged about adopting pets so he could use them as target practice, posted online that he was going to do a shooting, and he chose that location because that was his ex’s church. he ended up murdering 26 people including his ex’s grandma.

there are more examples too, but my point is that it seems extremely obvious that domestic violence offenses aren’t taken nearly as seriously as they should be. and it also seems obvious that the complete and total lack of any accountability for military members who commit crimes against both civilians and other members (look at the rape statistics) ends up attracting young men who have a desire to commit violence and they come out of it even more mentally unstable and dangerous.

[hugsandchaos]

Amity Park has an animal shelter.

Well, obviously. Lots of towns have those.

And like most animal shelters, there’s this one animal who hates everyone. A black cat. A very fluffy black cat named Salem, and she’s constantly hissing and swatting at people. That is if she doesn’t bite.

One day, a worker comes in early to find the infamous ghost boy holding Salem in his arms and petting her, talking softly to her in ghost speak, and Salem is nuzzling his face and purring like an engine.

I made this just because I think it’d be funny if a ghost hunter got a little too close to an injured Phantom and a black cat came out of nowhere and started attacking the ghost hunter, so Phantom has to pull the cat off and is trying to calm them down.

He’ll be carrying Salem and she’s the most peaceful cat you’ll ever see, but as soon as someone reaches for him, she starts acting like a demon.

[bella-goths-wife]

I really enjoy your work with the Vees and Sound manipulation Reader, I’m curious about how Alastor would react to the fact the Vees having a ‘pet’ with that power?

Alastors reaction to the Vs pet

Warnings: alastor, violence, terrible foreshadowing, poor reader is uncomfortable

Alastor had actually met you before you became the Vs pet, just before his 7 year disappearance

You were a fresh soul in hell and just figuring out how to survive and use your ability to your advantage

It was quite similar to how you met vox, you were unaware of how powerful alastor was and you tried to surprise attack him with your ability so you could rob him

You used your sound manipulation to create a loud noise in his ears to try and shock him but a shadowed hand grabbed you before you could do anything more

“Afraid that won’t work on me, my dear” he said with an irritated grin as he turned to you “now, why don’t you tell me your name and what you think your doing”

His shadows had tightened around you as you hurriedly explained your situation and begged for mercy

There was something so familiar about you to alastor, your eyes almost looked identical to someone he once knew

He examined you carefully and took in your appearance as you begged and couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity that seemed to come from looking at your eyes

“Well my dear, considering your also a fellow lover of music I’ll forgive you for your ignorance” alastor had said with a grin as his shadow let go of you and you fell to the ground “come along darling, I wish to discuss many things with you”

He bought you dinner and watched as you ate it with gusto, realising how hungry you must have been

He had you explain your ability to him in great detail with the promise of more food if you did so

He noted that it was unusually generous of him, but he just couldn’t shake his curiosity

After you explained everything to him, he simply nodded and with a click of his fingers he gave you more appropriate clothes to keep you warm

He gave you the simple advice of learning who to charm and who to steal from, promising you that he believed you had the ability to charm the entire pentagram of you used your abilities correctly

After that he disappeared and a few years later you worked for vox

Upon alastors return, you crossed his mind a few times a week as he wondered what happened to you

It wasn’t until he saw you on angel dusts cellphone and questioned him about it

He said that what alastor saw was a post on velvette’s social media, and the post featured a picture of you dressed in lavish clothes that matched velvettes

Velvette had her hand resting on your shoulder as she commanded you to pose, and alastor couldn’t help the look of disgust that crossed his face

In truth, after hearing of Charlie’s hotel he had hoped to find you and enlist your help for his own entertainment

But to see you with the Vs, who exploited your ability in all the wrong ways, he felt nothing but more disgust and resentment towards them

When he said you should charm people so you could survive, he meant people who were worth more than those tacky Vs

And the worst part of it was that he still felt some type of familiarity from you, and his intrigue wouldn’t let him just let him let it go

So don’t worry darling, alastor will find a way to speak to you somehow

He has to, he needs to figure out what connection you have to him to make you so intriguing

And to find out why only you and him shared music based abilities

[robo-writing]

Sometimes I sit here and think about baby Logan, you know the one from the first X-men movie? With the grey hoodie? Yeah that baby Logan. Anyway, I think about Deadpool pulling worst Logan into more time shinaganen shit and of course worst Logan’s gf (who was his gf in his last universe but of course died during the attack, but this one either never met her universe Logan or something) and somehow, she runs into baby first Xmen Logan wearing the grey hoodie and running around clueless as where the hell he is, until he bumps into a surprisingly pretty woman who for some reason is cooing over him and calling him a precious baby,(and did she just pspspspsps at me?? I’m not a fucking cat? No the hair doesn’t look like cat ears?! The hell wrong with you lady?!) and he only gets her name before a older version of him in a gaudy yellow suit shows up to grab her and take her away, grumbling about having to keep track of two overgrown toddlers while a mouthy guy in a red leather suit says some stupid shit before following after the older version of Logan into some strange portal. Of course soon after baby Logan gets found by Xavier and when he ask who the woman named y/n is, Xavier just looks at him confused. (Of course perhaps that Logan will meet y/n a few years down the road, or he never sees her again, a shame really, she was quiet a looker, despite being so weird, he can stand being called a baby or a kitten by her again)

Waking up in a strange building is one thing, but walking out of an elevator to find a woman starting him down is another—especially when she keeps calling him kitty.

“Oh my god, look at you! You’re so young!” Her voice is high-pitched, oohing and ahhing at him like some kind of attraction. Maybe it’d piss him off more if you didn’t look so cute doing it.

“Cute lil kitten aren’t you? And your ears are so fluffy!”

You reach up to touch his hair, and he would grab your hand if someone else didn’t already beat him to it.

A gaudy yellow suit is the first thing he sees, then—what the fuck?

“Doll, I told you not to go wandering off,” the stranger says, and it’s now that his day goes from bizarre to fucking impossible because he’s staring at himself. Older, sure, but his voice, his body, damn near everything—

“Oh peanut! It’s time to go!” Says another man in a bright red jumpsuit, and he can hear the other man groan in response.

“Alright, you heard him.”

“Aw,” you complain, following after the two of them. “Wanted to pet him before we go.”

You wave to the younger man behind you, giving him a wink along with your name. “Come find me when you’re all grown up kitty! I’ll be waiting for you!”

“Wait—!”

His words fall on deaf ears, the trio disappearing soon after in a yellow doorway. His jaw drops, unsure of what just happened was real or if he’s just high as a fucking kite.

After a couple of introductions and many confused glances, he finds out that the three people he met are not students or professors, and that no one in the room had ever seen them before. Years pass along with many, many, life changing events and his odd welcome party becomes a memory of the past.

That is, until he finds out Charles has hired a new school counselor, and she looks just a bit too similar to be a coincidence. Once he gets over the shock he extends his hand, to which you accept.

“Names Logan.” He says, and you give yours in return, the same name you gave him all those years ago. It’s now that you point to his hair with a small smile.

“Do you style your hair or does it always come out like that?”

His eyebrow raises, unsure of the line of questioning. “Not really? Why do you ask?”

You open your mouth, then close it with a shake of your head. “Forget it, you’re gonna think it’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan replies. “Try me.”

You bite your lip, debating on whether you should speak, eventually choosing to bite the bullet. “Well, it’s just that your hair kinda looks like ears. Y’know, like a cat.”

His chuckle is instant, evolving into a laugh. You’re getting more and more nervous, afraid you said something wrong until his hand gives you a good pat on the shoulder.

“Y’know, you’re the second girl to tell me that,” he muses, leaning in close. “But come to think of it, ‘kitty’ has a better ring to it, don’tcha think?”