#the apex predator indeed

[blackblackheart]

Sighs.

Hangs a lantern on the balcony of his treehouse

"Too many'a you lot getting lost in the bloody woods. You're gonna get eaten by bears, or gored by rutting stags. Or shot by me."

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

35 / 2.1k / shark merman Price and remora mermaid reader for mermay :)

...

Price isn’t stupid. He knows you’ve been following him since the early morning as he makes the rounds through his favorite reef. You’re stealthing poorly—just poorly enough that he knows you’re there, but you’re still small enough to dart into the reef every time he tries to get a good look at you.

He's been ignoring you and hoping you’ll take the hint to buzz off before he makes you buzz off.

You think you’re getting the hang of sneaking up on him when you turn a corner and lose him. And then he’s sneaking up on you.

You peek around the bright lumps of coral, wondering where he’s gone, when something blots out the sunlight above. You look up to see him—the long expanse of muscle and bulk on top and the smooth shark’s tail below—as he peers down at you.

You stiffen, pressing yourself to the sandy sea floor.

He scans you with his dark eyes to determine just what kind of creature has been following him. Not a threat, decides. Even as a mer. You’re too small. Too soft. You have no teeth to speak of. How laughable. And a tiny little thing, at that.

You straighten up, watching him circle you. You’d been looking for an opportunity just like this. That’s why you were tailing him. But now that his shrewd gaze is finally on you, you feel exposed.

He takes his time inspecting you. Then he swims a wide arc around you once more and lowers his clawed as if to touch you. You force yourself to stay still, your tail curled under you on the sand.

“You’ve been following me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

Price hooks one of his claws under your chin and pulls your head lightly upwards. You slowly rise as he tilts your chin up until you're suspended in the water in front of him.

"You should be scared of me,” he says.

You settle your own hands on his wrist in contentment. You look less like a meal being evaluated and more like a kitten being scratched under the chin. "Would you like me to be scared?"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. He knows exactly what this is. You're a remora mer, which means you instinctively seek out and bond with bigger creatures. Even if that creature is an unfriendly shark mer. Surely you must know how dangerous it is to be within his reach?

"You're very big. You must be king of this reef,” you say.

He pauses as the praise washes over him. He knows how intimidating he is, and you should realize you're nothing but small, soft and fragile. But obviously your instincts for fawning and flattery are finely honed.

He can see the way your little self seems to be drawn to him. A remora mer, indeed. He's seen others like you, but they've always avoided him. He could just as easily kill you as he could accept your company.

There is something pitifully adorable about you. The way you tilt your head and expose your throat unwittingly is endearing. He knows it’s because your instincts are leading you to bond with him for the safety he provides. You're too willing.

"Do you lack the common sense to fear an apex predator?" he asks, voice low and amused.

"Yes," you respond obediently.

He can see the way your little body is pressing up to his hand, desperate to get closer. He moves his arm, gently guiding you closer to him. "Good," he rumbles softly before using two claws to stroke down the curve of your neck. "Very good. You're too small to survive my teeth, you know."

"Of course. Much too small. Your teeth are so big and sharp."

"And you're soft and weak. Soft as a piece of kelp, I bet." He gives the tip of your tail a flick, and his eyes glitter as you bob and shake out your tail fin at the touch. Fussy little creature. "You're not very good at what you're supposed to do, little mer."

You open up your eyes. "I'm not?"

"Following me for hours without even trying to ingratiate yourself to me," he growls. "You're supposed to busy yourself with my needs. Not..." He trails off as you tilt up into his touch, almost nuzzling his hand. He gives your forehead a light flick with his claw to make you pay attention. "Acting like some kind of pet."

You quickly smooth yourself down. "Of course. I know that." You dart closer, putting your small hands on his inner arm, his shoulder, his chest, inspecting him. Your fingers glide over him, brushing and scratching and plucking away bits of sea debris and dry skin. Grooming him. "I just thought you might want me to be scared of you first."

Oh. He’s enjoying this far more than he thought he would. For something so soft, you’re quite bold.

He presses on your hip to turn you slightly as you work, idly inspecting you in return. "Maybe later. Let’s see if you’re worth the effort first." He rests his chin on his other hand to watch you fuss over him. It's been a long time since he had any kind of attention on him. You dart around behind him and busy yourself with his hair next.

He leans into your touch when you start to untangle his hair. "You seem to enjoy this.”

“I do.”

“Good for you,” he drawls. "Are you good for anything else?"

"I'm good for lots of things." You move from his hair down to his tail, trying not to stare.

"Oh?" He reaches up and idly drags the back of his knuckles down your spine and over the fin there. He smirks as your fin flattens with the touch. "Like what?"

"Anything you can think of."

"Anything?" He gives a low rumble in his throat at your words. "Don't go promising favors you can't fulfill, little remora."

"Okay," you chime.

He grabs ahold of your tail fins. "And don't agree with every single thing I say, either. That makes you far too easy to manipulate."

"Yes, sir!"

He rolls his eyes. You really are a pushover. It's like you want him to be cruel to you. He lets go of your tail but twirls his fingers in the tip of your tailfins. "Is it your instincts that are making you so deferential? Or are you just a coward?"

You pretend to think about this for a moment. Then you respond, pleasantly, "Which do you prefer?"

"Mm, so you do have a brain."

"Me? No, surely that can't be. Not a thought in my head, sir. Promise."

He eyes you like a disobedient puppy. You're putting on this fairly convincing act, being a mindless, servile little thing, and it's confusing his instincts to know you're doing a fair bit of manipulation yourself to win his protection.

"Might prefer you a bit more brainless, actually," he says. He nudges the underside of your chin with his knuckle this time instead of his claw, noting how you drop what you were doing to follow the gesture as he guides you out in front of him again. "You're willing to do anything I ask, then? No questions?"

"Yes, sir.” You rest your much smaller body against his forearm again. “Anything.”

He looks down at how you submit willingly to his hand, taking in the sight of your small body pressed up against it. He feels something primal coil in his gut at the display. You let yourself fall under his control so easily. "What if I told you to open your mouth like a goldfish?" He brings his thumb up to your lip. "Would you?"

You open your mouth.

Interesting. He taps your lower lip with the tip of his thumb. "Wide," he murmurs. "Open up wide for me."

You open wider.

"Now bite."

You bite down around the tip of his thumb.

His lips twitch up into a smile at the feeling of you nibbling at him, the little scrape of your teeth. "Good. Harder."

You reposition your grip and chomp down in earnest this time. He grunts. Your teeth are smaller than his, but they're still sharp.

"There you go. Not bad for such a small mouth." He pulls it away, half-expecting you to start hollowing your cheeks on his thumb if he dawdles too long. "Have you ever had to deal with bigger fish?"

"Of course," you chirp. Like it's no big deal.

Price snorts. It's hard to imagine something like you doing anything but darting behind the nearest rock at the first sign of danger. “How many have you killed?"

"None."

"Right, I'm sure you ask them nicely to leave you alone," he says. "And do they listen?”

"Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

"And when they don't, what do you do? Do you fight back? Do you give up?"

"Well..." You wring your hands briefly. "You're going to handle it now, right? So what does it matter?"

"It matters to me." For some reason, the thought of you trying to fight back against a larger fish makes him restless. "You still need to know how to defend yourself."

You frown. "You're not going to do it for me?"

He scoffs, but you're starting to make him feel something close to concern for you. He doesn't know why the thought of you being defenseless irks him so. "Are you really that helpless? Are you really so soft that you just want me to fight all your battles for you?"

"I mean, you're a shark."

He huffs irritably at that, his annoyance with you outweighed by his annoyance with himself for feeling concerned over you. "Do you think I'm going to do everything for you just because I'm bigger and stronger?"

You smile at him, pleased.

Ah. He's the fool suddenly. He grabs you around the waist with just one of his big hands and brings you close, his voice lowering in warning. "Stop smiling, little fish."

"Okay," you chime.

"I told you to stop sounding so bloody agreeable. You make me want to bite you." He lifts you up in front of him to get a clearer look at your face. Your eyes are too wide, your smile is too sweet, your body is too flimsy. It's all infuriating to him. He’s been roaming the ocean a long time and he's grown comfortably hard and cold. You’re not changing that. "You have no self-preservation instincts at all, do you? You're just going to get yourself killed one day."

You settle into his hand comfortably. "Maybe so. Can I get you anything else, boss?"

You're hopeless, he decides. With how sweet and docile you are, he feels something clawing at the inside of his chest the longer he holds you.

Instead of answering you, he fits you against his chest, into the crook of his arm. There. Better. He can keep you closer this way without having to look at your silly doe eyes.

“Not now,” he says finally. “Maybe later.”

You lean into the position, tucking into the side of his chest like you're making yourself at home. "Okay, boss."

He can’t decide if he likes you calling him that or not. He can feel the way you nestle against him, settling in comfortably and making no effort to resist. You really are too easy to control. Just a little pull and you're molded against his side. He feels you start to smooth down some of his chest scales without even thinking. Grooming him. Nice and clean. Little busybody.

He's not used to being pampered, but feeling the tension start to bleed from his muscles under your touch… maybe it’s not so bad. He glances down at you, wondering how you're able to look so contented tucked up against him. His chest rumbles as you scratch near his throat. He lets his muscles relax under your hand.

You're an annoying little thing--too innocent, too naive, too sweet, and he conveniently forgets how capable you are of convincing him of that to win him over--but it's been too damn long since he's allowed himself to be comforted.

Maybe it would be alright to let you stay with him for a little while.

...

more Price / more mer au / masterlist tag

[homunculus-argument]

One thing that can save you from so much needless bickering online is always taking an "innocent until proven guilty" approach about whether or not somebody is an idiot. If something that a person you don't know is doing, thinking, or saying makes no sense to you, it's better to assume that your initial assumption of what's going on is wrong, and that there's some additional element in this that you're unaware of, and what they're up to makes sense in context.

Let's say that someone posts on tumblr: "oh great, there's a fucking crocodile on the backyard. Hope it goes away before I have to let the dog out." Talking about it in a very casual way like that's just shit that happens sometimes.

And this is read by someone whose first assumption is that everyone online comes from a similar background and cultural context as they do, and thinks: Well, if there was a crocodile on my backyard, that would mean there's something horribly wrong, and I would be unsettled indeed. As this person does not seem appropriately freaked out about this, then clearly they must be an idiot.

And so they swoop in to scold the OP for being so casual about something that must clearly be a dire situation, an apex predator like a crocodile roaming around is an emergency worse than any regular invasive species, they must immediately find out where that creature escaped from and not let it out of their sight!

And meanwhile, the original OP argues that every single step of that plan is insane and they are not going to do that. And they continue arguing like this, because one is correct in their stance that an escaped crocodile in an environment it doesn't belong in is a dire and serious situation, and the other one is correct in their stanse that it would be ridiculous to call animal control over simply seeing a wild animal naturally chilling in its native environment.

And this whole argument could have been avoided if the responder had taken the alternative route: Concluding that since behaving the way OP does in their own environment would be idiotic, then clearly they must be living somewhere else.

And a simple question of "are crocodiles normal where you're from?" could have settled this immediately, as the two would have immediately come to learn that one of them is from Australia and the other one is from France.

[maiko-coy]

That mermay comic you made. Are they fighting because of territorial dispute? Is Sun attempting to protect the diver? Or is it as simple as they hate each other?

Its actually a mix of all three!

Both Sun and Moon are apex predators. I'll try to explain this in both of their perspectives: Sun: 1.) The territorial dispute is more sensible on Sun's side because diver is stranded in a shallow area, somewhere where the light of the sun can reach and hence, where Sun strives. Moon is the intruder, in this case. 2.) Sun's perspective of diver is like watching a lost baby fish trying to survive on its own and Sun may or may not had immediately adopted them as a part of his pod. Hence, the protective/doting attitude. So yes, it is his instinct to protect the diver. 3.) Sun has a backstory with Moon that indeed ends up them hating on each other. Moon used to be part of his pod. Moon: 1.) Moon is a deep sea creature and his territory is definitely not on the shallows, so him being in the shallows is suspicious. However, Moon met diver first than Sun. Its a rocky first impression but Moon does end up warming up to them. While he did not consider diver as a pod member, he does consider them as an interest and may have marked them as an extension to his territory. Basically, he's saying that he owns diver in some weird fishy way. This explains his equally territorial response to Sun when he saw that diver was way too near Sun. 2.) Moon hates Sun for what he did back before. Sun used to be part of his pod.

[yanderes-galore]

Most of the Smilling Critters were requested already. So, why not do it for all of them? I'd like a concept for Hoppy Hopscotch.

Sure! As usual, this is my take just like I did with the others.

🐶DogDay🐶

🐱CatNap🐱

⚡️Yandere! Hoppy Hopscotch Concept⚡️

🐰(My Version)🐰

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Manipulation, Possessive/Protective behavior, Blood, Dark themes, Forced companionship.

Hoppy is certainly one of the more energetic Critters.

She's enthusiastic and fond of activity.

Although... The rabbit has a tendency to be loud, bossy, and impatient....

She's overly eager but willing to slow down for those she deems a friend.

Like my previous Critter concepts, Hoppy has a "plush" and monster form.

She smells like peppermint and has soft green fur...

But she also has a tendency to get dirty due to playing.

I imagine Hoppy is a bit pushy to make her obsession play with her.

You are her favorite person, which makes her quite clingy.

Most of the time Hoppy stays in her smaller form.

She seems like a plush, yet she is indeed a living creature.

She's only up to your waist, not including her ears.

The rabbit loves to jump up to eye level to greet you, often bouncing around you.

She has a calming effect like the other Critters, yet often snaps you out of such a state due to her energy.

Hoppy's favorite thing to do is play.

When she was first put into your care, all she wanted to do was run around and play.

You'd often toss a ball or play soccer with her.

Even if you weren't active she was insistent.

The pushy green rabbit often pouted or clung to you if you refused to play.

Hoppy considers you her best friend.

All the Critters think this towards their obsession.

The rabbit loves it when you hold her, cuddling into you with soft fur.

Whenever you're stressed, Hoppy pushes you to go play with her.

If not, she'll reluctantly sit still to ease your worries.

Her peppermint scent helps a lot.

Hoppy's monster form is a large slender creature... with strong digitigrade legs.

Hoppy is fast in her monster form with strong back legs.

She's tall like the other Critters, easily towering over you in monster form.

Yet despite her appearance... She's just as playful as ever.

The scariest part about her is her agility.

It would be hard for her obsession to escape since she's quick to block them off.

She's a needy toy, often not leaving you for any reason.

She hops around you in her smaller form, rarely showing her larger form.

She loves it when you pet her, kiss her soft head, and cuddle her.

So much so that she's envious of anyone else who takes your attention.

If you met her in the long abandoned orphanage, she'd originally stay in her plush form.

Like most of the Smiling Critters, Hoppy doesn't want to scare off a potential new friend.

She only shows her monster form if she feels you're in danger from other toys or something.

Her agility also allows her to cross large gaps, which is useful.

Hoppy may be unnerving in monster form, yet she still wants to play.

In her monster form it's like your roles are reversed.

Now you're the smaller one.

The large rabbit often enjoys carrying you around, or playing tag.

She always wins tag.

In fact, Hoppy may just view your escape attempts as a game.

You're just playing, aren't you?

This is just a game!

You'd never leave your best friend, right?

Right!?

She hates to scare you... yet she can't hide what she is.

A monster... a creature that needs to sustain herself on food like everything else.

While she does try to keep you comfortable by staying in her smaller form, you'll still see her monster form.

It's terrifying to see her claw into some other living toy, feasting on the meat like a true apex predator.

It's ironic... she's such a cute rabbit...

But pounces on prey like some skilled hunter.

It scares you when she comes back to you, smelling of musk and blood...

Yet still somehow keeping a peppermint scent....

She's covered in blood after her feasts, or even just fights to protect you.

She vows never to hurt you, yet you keep looking so scared.

Even when she swaps to her smaller form and cuddles against your leg, you kick her away in fear.

Hoppy doesn't mean to scare you...

But she doesn't care if she scares you when she drags you back to her.

You may be scared... yet she's even more scared to lose you.

She hasn't had a friend in years.

She's had to survive down here nearly alone.

Hoppy doesn't mean to make you cry...

Yet she still drags you away in monster form, deep down into the depths of the orphanage to hide you in her burrow...

Once there, the rabbit holds you close.

Her ears droop as she watches you sob, the scent of blood still fresh in the air.

Despite all that... you can still faintly smell peppermint...

An echo of the toy she once was around you.

[kirain]

Bg3 companions as animals?

This was an interesting concept!

Shadowheart: The wolf. A fearless hunter stalking her prey, seeing through the dark, and protecting her own. Sometimes lonesome, but fully devoted to her pack. Don't be fooled by her fangs—she'll use them, but she has a softer side. One of kindness and compassion. Her trust just needs to be earned.

Lae'zel: The cheetah. Strong, fast, and independent. She's an apex predator with a superior sense of smell and direction, and she will kill anything that gets in her way. But deep down, she's not as aggressive as she looks. She's curious, cuddly, playful, and far more tolerant than people give her credit for.

Karlach: The llama. Vivacious, joyful, and larger than life. She lives for fun and adventure, meeting every day with a smile. She loves to eat, frolic, and socialise, though she can be a bit stubborn at times. And don't mistake her gentle personality for weakness. She'll defend her pack to the death, and she's tougher than anyone could possibly imagine.

Wyll: The stallion. Noble, loyal, and carefree. He's a leader, always looking out for his own. His instincts tell him to run, but he always runs in the right direction, bucking and kicking at anyone who dares to threaten the safety of his herd. No matter how hard life gets, his spirit cannot be broken.

Gale: The raven. Insightful and intelligent, with a strong connection to the mystical. Quick to solve problems and guide the lost, though many wrongfully see him as a bad omen. If shown love and respect, he will return it tenfold, performing great feats for his friends and mating for life.

Astarion: The white-winged vampire bat. A solitary and slightly vain creature who lives off of blood. Mired in superstition, people fear him, but he's not nearly as sinister as the legends suggest. For the most part, he's harmless, generous, composed, and he can indeed bond with a small group of which he will become extremely protective.

[soylent-crocodile]

Chiropterex (Monster)

(artist unknown)

(Back in the distant era of the early 10s, my family got Netflix as a novelty. Nowadays streaming has consumed film and television like a rabid beast, but back then, my brother and I found a little British show called Primeval. Weaned on BBC nature documentaries from a young age, this was an exciting new spin on Walking with Dinosaurs, and we loved it.

The future predator is no question the most iconic creature of the series, a future bat that is both inspired by earlier spec evo and has gone on to inspire many other monster designs, including the earlier moorkutlot. It seems only fitting it be translated to Pathfinder.

By the way, I'm abandoning the proposed evolutionary history the later seasons provide- that these actually evolved to eat humans in a post-apocalyptic cityscape- and make them what I think is most obvious to me.)

CR3 TN Medium Animal HD5

Chiropterex are an aberrant species of roughly wolf-sized terrestrial bat, an arboreal, nocturnal apex predator of the islands it calls home, where no other land mammals have reached. They live in small family groups of about four to six members, typically consisting of a mated pair, a nest of about six children, a few children of previous years who stay around to help, and maybe one or two aunts or uncles. Typically, however, they hunt alone, feeding on seabirds and large moa-like ratites who evolved alongside them. These family groups keep in contact with each other using echolocation, and if a lone hunter runs into a struggle, it will call on the dissembled family to help.

Chiropterex are notorious man-eaters, and many a shipwrecked crew has met its end at a family of ravenous land bats. Many peoples of island cultures consider chiropterex to be evil spirits, and indeed there is at least one island where the magic of The Abyss has infected the local population of these predatory beasts.

Some outsiders have tried to domesticate chiropterex, or at the very least use them as weapons. They are a tempting subject of domestication; they are mobile, intelligent, fast-growing and have large clutch sizes, but all attempts so far have ended disastrously.

Chiropterex Companions

Starting Statistics: AC: +4 Size: Small Speed: 30ft, Climb 30ft Attacks: Bite (1d3), 2 Claw (1d4) Ability Scores: Str:10 Dex:22 Con:8 Int:2 Wis:12 Cha:7 Special Qualities: Blind, Blindsight 90ft, Scent Lv 4 Advancement: Size: Medium Attacks: Bite (1d4), 2 Claw (1d6) Ability Scores: Str +4 Dex -2 Con +2 Special Qualities: Flurry of Strikes

This hunched over creature has long, clawed arms and a bulbous head that ends in a short, needle-toothed mouth.

Misc- CR3 TN Medium Animal HD5 Init:+5 Senses: Perception:+6 Blind, Blindsight 90ft, Scent Stats- Str:14(+2) Dex:20(+5) Con:10(+0) Int:2(-4) Wis:12(+2) Cha:7(-2) BAB:+3 Space:5ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP:25(5d8) AC:19(+5 Dex, +4 Natural) Fort:+4 Ref:+9 Will:+3 CMD:21 Immunity: Gaze and other visual effects Weakness: Vulnerability to Sonic  Offense- Bite +5(1d4+2, 18-20/x2), 2 Claw +5(1d6+2) CMB:+6 Speed:30ft, Climb 30ft Special Attacks: Pounce, Flurry of Strikes +3/+3/+3/+3(1d6+2) Feats- Dodge, Mobility Skills- +11 Climb, +10 Stealth, +6 Perception(+8 Racial to Climb) Special Qualities- Flurry of Strikes Ecology- Environment- Forest, Urban (Warm) Languages- None Organization- Solitary, Family (2-4 Chiropterex, 6-8 Young Chiropterex) Treasure- None Special Abilities- Blindsight (Ex)- A chiropterex’s blindsight is echolocation-based; it cannot sense within areas of Silence or similar spells. Flurry of Strikes (Ex)- A chiropterex may, as a full-round action, give a flurry of stabbing strikes from its claws. It makes four Claw attacks at a -2 penalty each. 

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

would a corviknight be a good pet?

I corviknight would indeed make a great pet… for a very specific kind of owner. This incredible pokémon wouldn’t be the easiest for many people to care for, but they are well known to get along with humans and they are highly intelligent, just like real-world corvids!

One of the biggest things holding corviknights back on the score end of things is their size. While they are certainly light for their size, despite their armored appearance, this species is much larger than one would imagine a house pet to be. At over seven feet tall, corviknights need a lot of space to thrive. If you live in a small apartment, no matter how pet-friendly it is, it likely won’t provide a corviknight a lot of space to move around. Additionally, it would be very difficult to transport a corviknight anywhere unless they wanted to fly there themselves. The vet? The groomer? Good luck!

Thankfully, it appears that corviknights are pretty easy to train, in no small part due to their high intelligence. In the Galar region, this species can be seen working alongside humans to run an airborne taxi service (Shield), indicating a friendliness towards our species and a willingness to be trained. They don’t seem to be aggressive towards humans in any way, despite their apex predator status (in most regions, that is) (Sword, Scarlet).

Due to the combination of their intimidating black armor and formidable moves, corviknights are powerful foes in combat (Sword). In their native Galar region, no other pokémon dares to mess with corviknights, and with good reason. Moves like Steel Wing and Brave Bird make them quite dangerous, especially considering their size and weight. These powerful moves do affect the species’ score, coming into sharp conflict with the positive points gained from their friendly, easy to train nature. It’s important to consider, however, that the safety of your corviknight may be at risk depending on where you live. In regions where tinkatons live, like the Paldea region, corviknights are far less dominant, often falling victim to attacks from these natural predators. This has made it unsafe to replicate the Galar region’s taxi service there, and would make it dangerous to let your corviknight play in any areas where these pokémon may be waiting for them (Scarlet). If you are planning to adopt a corviknight, I insist that you do research into if tinkatons live in your area, or if any of your neighbors own one, for your pet’s safety.

All this being said, it should be clear why corviknights should only be taken in by specific trainers. This species may have been successfully domesticated, and they are known to be quite friendly and safe around humans despite their size and menacing appearance, but they require a lot of space to live, and must be kept away from predators that they have little to no defenses against. So long as you are able to provide them with the care that the Galarian airborne taxi service does, you should be able to manage, but I must point out that many people won’t be able to do so.

[esotheria-sims]

It was the third night since Annika ran away from home, and her supplies were running low. She was out of her hideout gathering berries when she caught sight of her father entering the forest, his telltale aura glowing in the murky dark.

Ducking behind the foliage, Annika observed. She could only make out so much from the distance, but she clearly noticed the sad, tired slump of the illuminated figure. He'd probably been out all day looking for her, worrying himself sick. Annika tried to swallow back her guilt; she felt awful for her dad, but couldn't go home. Not yet.

Gabriel Blackbird had scoured every nook and cranny of Wyvern's Bay in the three days his daughter had gone missing, turned every stone, tried every spell in the proverbial spellbook. But nothing had come up with any results. There was only one location left to try, and it was the one place he simultaneously hoped to find but also not to find her: the Crooked Forest, notoriously known as the hunting ground of the Great feral wyvern.

And indeed, there were traces of beastly presence everywhere Gabriel looked: clawed footprints as big as truck tires; hot embers casting an eerie glow on a pair of gnawed skeletons (human skeletons, he noted); and even two large, scaly eggs tucked away in the depths of a cave. Gabriel would rather not be around when the mom of those eggs came back for them.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a gust of wind coming from behind, closely followed by the thunderous clap of wings. Wand at the ready, Gabriel whipped around and gasped in horror at the sight before him. To his great misfortune, Wyvern's Bay's eponymous apex predator had returned to its nest.

And it was now staring right at him.

[ineedlelittlespace]

for the character ask game: Peri "ART" helion

Send Me a Character

First impression

"You were lucky." sent a legit chill through my bones. As a concept, a sentient, overpowered spaceship is ten kinds of terrifying, and those first few moments that we experience with Murderbot are a little terrifying, too.

Impression now

ART is indeed still terrifying, but more in the way of those rescue tigers you see in YouTube videos that goof around like housecats and look a little offended afterwards when they don't quite manage to maintain their apex predator dignity. I love how much it loves its people, even as it delights in exasperating the hell out of them.

Favorite moment

The screaming match it has with Murderbot in Network Effect shortly before MB locks itself in the bathroom. They're both under so much stress, both so worried about the people they love, and on top of it all, they're both navigating the painful waters of their first-ever friendship fight (something neither of them has ever had to face separately, let alone with each other). It's such a big growth moment (even if the growth is more growing pains than anything else).

Idea for a story

So...I just started reading the Temeraire series...And ART gives me the most intense dragon vibes. I'm not usually one for AUs, but...

Unpopular opinion

I don't know that it's really an unpopular opinion, but I do fully believe that ART is significantly meaner/more ruthless than the actual Murderbot in the friendship. Murderbot does what it needs to in order to win the fight its engaged in. Unless it's been provoked in the extreme, it isn't going to use an ounce more violence than necessary. Meanwhile, ART goes straight for the nuclear option in basically every aspect of its life because it likes to get its own way. And I LOVE that for it.

Favorite relationship

The little family unit it's formed with Seth, Martyn, and Iris! It has clearly grown up a beloved gifted child of two adoring parents, and that is the sweetest start in life I've ever read for a manmade lifeform.

Favorite headcanon

If its loose bookkeeping and even the way it met Murderbot in the first place is any example, I fully believe that ART gets up to all sorts of mildly(?) illegal mischief when its crew isn't looking. No rules can contain it, thank you very much.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

10. The Revenge

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence.

From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen @one-of-thewalkingdead

Seconds before I’m about to walk out the door, Miss Williams's warning rings in my head. I allow the madness to take hold of me. I retrieved the small listing device from all those months ago. Something in me wouldn’t allow me to throw it away the first time.

The drive was no less frustrating. The closer I got the more I wondered about the warning. Vault Tech was indeed crooked, but killers? I couldn’t wrap my mind around such a theory.

I’m escorted to Barb’s office. The meeting is running late. Such a surprise. As I sit alone in the silent space. The darkness creeps in once more. I dig into my pocket and grasp the listening device placing it inside my ear. The static clears and voices can be heard.

“Mr. Howard, would you mind if Barb’s assistant pops in for a quick hello? He’s a big fan.” I nod with the practiced actor's smile, “of course.”

She dips back behind the doorway leaving me to listen to the conversations in the meeting room. “Our sales are fine. Sure, rumors of the peace negotiations have set us back a bit, but we're here to offer you an opportunity. We'd like to collaborate on some of our vaults.”

“I-I don't get the vaults. When it's time to come out, what if people are still alive on the surface?

They'll be Stone Age creatures. Probably eat whoever steps out of your vaults.”

“That isn't an issue. Our vaults have the resources to survive for centuries. Meanwhile, our competitors... you know, every other human

who isn't us... will be dead on the surface. Because after all, what is the ultimate weapon of mass destruction?”

“Time is the apex predator. And in the event of an incident, time is the weapon with which we will defeat all of our enemies. That is how we will win the great game of capitalism. Not by outfighting anyone, but by outliving them.”

“Even if you outlive all external threats, here's my problem with the vaults. You confine a bunch of rats in a nest for a long time, they end up eating each other. So who's to say your rats are gonna survive better than those animals on the surface?”

Everyone overlaps each other bickering back and forth to no end. “If I could refocus the discussion.” Barb's voice pipes up, “When I think about the future, I think about my daughter... Janey. How do I provide her with a better future? That's what we've invited you here to discuss.” They agree in the room. “And how do we design our vault societies so our children have that better future? I suggest we hedge our bets. Bud here has an idea for three interconnected vaults. But we need more ideas. We need your ideas. Because it was the spirit of competition that made our companies great, and I propose we bring that same spirit of competition to our solution.”

“We have over a hundred vaults spread across America. Enough for each of you to claim several, where you can play out your own ideas for how to create the perfect conditions for humanity. Whatever you want to do, no one needs to know. And may the best idea win.”

I can’t believe what I am hearing. Humans are viewed as nothing more than experiments.

“So what's Vault 32 and 33? Just people to be controlled?”

“What? No! When you put it like that, it sounds downright morally questionable. They're our breeding pool, the ultimate expression of HR R&D. Genetically selected to breed with my Buds to create a class of super managers. People with positivity, people who make lemonade. People who will inherit the Earth after we've wiped the surface clean. I have our first test subject lined up for freezing in the upcoming months.”

“We could intentionally overcrowd a vault so people have to compete to survive inside it.

We have been developing a Synthetic humanoid bot replicating (y/n) (l/n). It has a memory hard drive the size of a large computer. I would like to see a vault governed by it.”

“What about using a vault to develop a super-mutant soldier using illegal immigrants?”

“We could pump psychotropic drugs into the air supply.”

“We could separate parents and children, and only the smartest kids reach adulthood.”

“There's a lot of earning potential with the end of the world. But we're talking about making a significant investment based on a hypothetical. How can you guarantee results?”

Silence resumes before my heart clenches and my mouth falls agape at the words I hear ring in my head. Barb's chilling voice speaks, “By dropping the bomb ourselves.”

“Mr. Howard? Everything all right, Mr. Howard?” I shake my head, in shock, I get to compose myself but just remain a shell of a man. They are going to kill her…

“Uh, fine. I'm-I'm... I'm-I'm fine, Betty.” She opens the door further, “He is so excited to meet you.” A young skinny man walks through the door. He grasps my hand, “Mr. Howard.

Huge fan. I'm Henry, but, uh, everyone calls me Hank. Wow. I played for (y/n) at the wrap party.”

Did he? Poor soul of a boy was so unrememberable. I shake his hand with a ghostly smile. “You know, that scene? That scene where you shoot Joey Toro in the face? Feo, fuerte y formal.” He stumbles over his words, “I was just wondering, if-if... if you don't mind, um, I hate to be that guy, but, do you think you could give me an autograph?” As requested he gets what he wants. A quick scratch of my signature on a slip of paper.

Barb slipped into her office just as I passed Hank the paper. “Oh, Cooper. I didn’t know you’d be here this early. Sorry, you had to wait.” I shake my head, begging myself to remain calm. “Did you sign them?” I rush her, trying to leave this building full of sorry excuses of Americans' work.

She opens up a folder and examines the contents inside. With a nod of her head, Barb shuts it with a grin, passing it to me. Lo and behold she did sign it. I leave the building feeling my heart beat out of my chest. I have to get home to my love. This all could’ve been a ploy to get her alone.

I rush home, bursting through the door, and go right to the living room. Empty. I walk to the kitchen. Empty. Bedroom? Empty. Basement? Empty.

“(Y/n)?” I double-check the entire house twice. And still no sign of her. “(Y/n)!” Screaming and tracking my steps backward. I run out the back and into the barn. Sugarfoot remains as happy as could be, but no (y/n) inside. “Where are you at, honey? (Y/n)!” My head begins spinning. She’s gone…

“Cooper?” I spin around at the speed of lightning. There at the entrance of the barn stood (y/n) safe and sound. I rush for her, gathering her frame in my arms. “Are you okay?” She asks, running her delicate finger through my hair. I hold her close, a firm grip on her. She was mine to protect and that I would do until I was sent to my grave.

~

“What is this?” Cooper asks holding up a check from Vault Tech. “Oh, I got a call a few weeks ago. They told me I was needed back in the lab because they had to do a remodel on the bots. I'm assuming that’s the check.” I return to my notebook trying to compose.

“You didn’t tell me.” “Did I need to?” He stares at me, an unreadable expression covering his face. “I would’ve appreciated it.” I nod, “Okay. I’ll make sure to let you know in the future.” Once again I return to the notebook.

“Did anyone say anything to you?” I look up at him, “like what?” “Like… out of line, or unprofessional.” I shake my head, furrowing my brows. “No. Everyone was very nice.” “What did you do there?” “I picked out wigs for the bot out of the choices they had made and I picked out the makeup that would be applied.” He stays silent, his foot tapping as he thinks. I close my notebook and adjust my body to face him, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. Just… didn’t expect you to do any more business with them.” I narrow my eyes at him in confusion. “It’s money, Coop. We’ve got bills. I don’t tour for another 6 months. Is it that big of a deal?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah it is.” A nervous sweat engulfed him. “You… we shouldn’t do any business with them. Not anymore.” He practically pleads as he grabs my hand. Tracing the lines on my palm, memorizing their curves. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” Confused and slightly worried. I comfort him in the presence of my arms. He relaxed at the touch.

~

Cooper was gone filming, and I lazily lay on the couch having a day for myself. Cheese plate on the coffee table and a glass of wine in hand. The phone rings causing me to roll my eyes.

“Hello, (y/n) speaking.”

“(Y/n)! Henry here.”

I furrow my brows. “Hi, what can I help you with?” He gulps on the other side of the line, “Listen, we need you to come down to the labs in 31. We’ve got some remodels to get your approval of.” I bite my lip. “Oh, Henry I wish I could, but-“ he interrupted with haste, “it will only take a few minutes. Promise.” I sigh looking at the clock. Cooper was busy on set, and I had no way of reaching him.

“Only a few minutes,” I say in a firm tone. “Yes, yes, of course! Just meet me outside the building and I’ll escort you to 31.”

~

The large metal door closed behind me with a loud mechanical hum. "Geez." I laugh awkwardly. It's so quiet in here. "I've never been down this far before." Henry leads the way silently. "They're just around the corner, here." I look behind me, my nerves growing. Something doesn't sit right. "Where is everyone?" He doesn't answer, instead, he walks over to a number pad and types away. To my right sits rows of large glass pods. One individual opens with a hiss. The freezing vapor seeps from the pod quickly. "What’s going on?" Before I can turn around I feel a sharp prick in my neck. "Ouch!" I grab my neck and force myself to turn around, my muscle’s already losing functionality.

There she stands with an empty injection needle and a stone-cold expression. "Barb?" I ask in shock, "What did you do to me?" I feel myself sway, my legs losing the ability to hold myself up. "We needed a test subject, and well, you didn't read the fine print in your contract." I fall the the ground, grasping the edges of her dress. "Barb, please." She glares at me, "You want me to take pity on you? After everything you did to me, you're lucky this is as far as I am going to go. Have a nice nap, (y/n)." I collapse fully onto the metal floor completely unconscious.

~

While (y/n) was frozen, her home was ransacked, her belongings torn into, and valuables gathered. Random items such as photo books, jewelry, clothing, makeup, and random items were taken and put into boxes. Samples of her blood scattered about the home. A knife lay on the kitchen floor with her fingertips. A home invasion turned wrong in the worst ways possible.

The worst sight for Cooper Howard to return home to. Their home is broken into, furniture and belongings broken, and his songbird missing from the cage. Her blood painting the grounds of the property.

Calling the police did nothing. Cooper was looked at as the main suspect. Struggle actor with a young successful beauty on his arm? Why not marry her in haste and claim her fortune? They were wrong in every part. The only reason he got off was because they were unable to find a body. No body no crime.

However, the public didn’t view it as such. If his reputation wasn’t ruined before it was now. Half the people blamed him, calling him a murderer as he walked down the street, and then some souls would take pity on him. The only thing to do was drown himself in drinks and other questionable substances. Cooper Howard was struggling more day by day.

[onceonafullmoon]

A Marionette's Ball

Yan! Chevalier x Fem! Reader x Yan! Gilbert

Tw!! Manipulation, threats of violence, implied captivity, period typical misogyny and Gilbert Von Obsidian himself

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal.  And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

-----

You need to stop fiddling with your necklace.

You know you need to calm down, but doing so is another story; you can practically feel the weight of everyone’s stares on you, not malicious, but prying still in their curiosity.

And it’s tough fighting the urge to snatch one of the champagne flutes off of the waiter's plates and down it in one gulp, but the subtle warning of Chevalier’s fingers pressing at your waist helps you forget the idea.

Right.

Just make a good impression and then you’ll get to go back to your own schedule with only one scrutinizing set of eyes on you.

It’s almost impossible to mess this up anyways, with all the effort Sariel has been putting into making you a “true lady befitting of a prince”.

Ha.

The audacity of that claim makes you laugh. 

As if you had a choice in any of this. 

As if you were something more than a puppet on a string pulled by the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Nevertheless, you pushed through the lessons easily enough, it was, at the very least, an escape from Chevalier’s smothering presence, although you would rather have buried your nose into a good book instead.

At any rate, it doesn’t seem like much of your work will be put into play considering the way that Chevalier has you glued to his side.

You suppose you get the hostility, he’s always been a touch smothering even before… this, and it doesn’t help that princes from other nations are currently visiting too.

Not that you would have the opportunity to meet any of them considering how anal Chevalier was about your “safety”.

In fact, if it were a year ago when you were still “unruly” he would have probably kept you chained in his room the whole time.

Well, if all good behavior amounted to was this then you probably could have thrown a fit to get yourself locked up again. Now it was too late, and you were stuck smiling fakely at some random noble who came to give his greetings. 

“My, my, if it isn’t the mystery woman that everyone’s been wondering about. Everyone’s been wondering about the one who stole the Chevalier Micheal’s heart, it's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you.” The nobleman, who you recall vaguely being named Lord Wessley, greets you with a certain, subtle prying look on his face as he studies you.

“Oh, you flatter me, but I’m afraid I’m not much to speak of. Any compliments should be redirected towards my fiancé.” You smile, cringing at the use of the word fiancé but happy enough with the way Chevalier’s brow furrows ever so slightly in annoyance.

You can almost hear his voice ringing out in your ears.

“If you have enough time to dish out praise, then you have enough time to do something useful with yourself, simpleton.”

“Praise worthy indeed!” Another man cuts in, rudely, albeit he’s possibly a bit drunk already. “An arsenal of military feats, a genius intellect that only appears once a century, and now a bride to be, you’re truly something else Prince Chevalier!”

You have to try your hardest to bite back the laugh bubbling up in you and Chevalier slightly grimaces.

Wessley furrows his eyebrows slightly at the intrusion but doesn’t comment, or rather, doesn’t get the chance to comment as he’s interrupted again. 

“And what a beauty she is, I can see why you’ve kept her locked up away from the rest of us!”

And now you are no longer smiling.

Karma really is a bitch.

The grip around your waist tightens and you find yourself conflicted about whether to celebrate the (hopefully only) verbal lashing this misogynistic bastard will get or to intervene for the sake of this very clearly drunk man.

Empathy wins out in the end, but also because you don’t trust Chevalier not to immediately jump at the chance to “incidentally” find this man charged with treason.

“I’m flattered by praise, truly, but you look a bit sickly to me, are you feeling alright?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off smoothly.

“Poor thing, I bet you can hardly stand, much less answer coherently, but there are several couches in the foyer for you to rest at. I’d escort you myself but, considering the circumstances, perhaps Lord Wessley can escort you instead?”

Of course, Wessley himself isn’t too keen on leaving the conversation, seeing as he probably started it to discuss his own business. But when you phrase it in such a way of offering good will, he can’t refuse. 

With a furrowed brow he replies in kind and leaves.

Perhaps Sariel’s lessons did come in handy, you think as you find yourself alone again.

A sigh from Chevalier has you mending your thoughts, not completely alone, unfortunately.

“How bothersome.” He grumbles, finally letting his arm drop from your waist.

“Yeah, being stuck around someone you can’t stand, tell me about it.” 

He gives you a look which would scare the living daylights out of even a battle hardened soldier, to which you innocently smile at.

You know him well enough to know when you’re actually in trouble.

“What? Just offering some words of support in your trying times Prince Chevalier, now wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

Your smile dips into a frown when instead of falling for the taunt he smirks at you.

“Prince Chevalier? I recall being referred to as fiancé earlier.”

You narrow your gaze, regretting your earlier decision to speak.

“Don’t read much into it, you’ll strain your eyes trying to find nothing.”

He simply smirks again.

“Complacency is a dangerous thing isn’t it?”

He leans in closer, tilting your head up, sending roils of annoyance and slight embarrassment through you as you fix your eyes on his face, unwavering from his.

“...It’d be a shame for you, if all your efforts were for naught.”

He chuckles derisively, letting you go. 

“Now, wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

You glare at him, annoyed that he used your words against you, before deciding to make a tactful retreat.

“Now that I’ve taken care of your nuisances, I’m taking care of mine for a bit and freshening up. Does that please your highness, or should I stay tethered to your side for another hour?” 

He scoffs. 

“Just don’t get lost, simpleton.”

To use Clavis’s terminology, the Cheva translation of that would mean: “Go ahead, but if you aren’t back in 10 minutes I will find you and there will be consequences.”

“...Whatever your highness wishes.”

—

You supposed Chevalier already knew that you weren’t going to the bathroom to freshen up, rather instead to find a private area to ruminate at being bested by him once more, and that almost made you even more upset.

It’s stupid that you’re even angry, you know that there's no winning a fight against him. It was already a given that he would twist your words around in an attempt to make you succumb to him, and yet…

You furrow your brow as you turn the corner.

It was all you could do, if you could annoy him, even just a bit then that would be victory enough… 

At least it should be, if you didn’t get carried away with it.

But damn you for having a competitive streak and damn him for pointing out the one idea that would make you sick to your stomach.

(Although, maybe if you thought about it more, you would find it was only his own sick desires taking form in his words.)

“Complacency, my ass.” You mutter, as you push open the door to the library.

Despite this being originally Chevalier’s domain, you’ve also been quite the avid reader, and so any time alone with books was welcome. And even if you weren’t alone… well at least he had the sense not to disturb you, outside of his general presence.

Scanning the room when you enter, you find your eyes catching on the rows of bookshelves before halting when you see the shape of a figure, dimly lit by a candle.

You frown slightly.

While there were no set rules against entering a host’s library, it was still considered bad taste to enter rooms you weren’t explicitly given access to. Not that this person seemed unaware of it, judging by the lofty coat you could make out they seemed to be born into wealth.

Well, you weren’t exactly a shining beacon of manners either, considering that you were ditching your debut ball in order to sulk in the corner of a dark room because your captor/fiancé bested you in a game of wits.

Although, when you put it that way, your life does sound significantly more ridiculous.

You, albeit hesitantly, decide to give the person the benefit of the doubt and approach them to direct them back to the ball.

“Excuse me?” You call out, nearing the figure. “Are you lost?”

They turn around, and it becomes apparent that they’re a man. But not just any man, you realize, as a few more details come to light that have you suddenly freezing in place.

First, the dark crimson eye that gazes upon you while the other hides behind a black eye patch.

Second, the black cane who’s shiny finish glints in the candle light.

And lastly, the golden encrusted emblem, signature of an Obsidianite.

“Oh no, I’m exactly where I need to be.” Gilbert Von Obsidian responds cheerfully.

…

You suddenly have the sense that you’ve, to use words that Chevalier claims are “crude and boorish”, absolutely fucked up.

To be fair to you, you hadn’t been able to see even a glimpse of any foreign princes, much less would you have predicted that the damn Prince of Obsidian was going to be there, or more accurately here, in your lovely library safe space. 

It’s not often that anyone other than Chevalier makes you stumped on what to do these days, but that goes to show how dangerous complacency really is.

“Prince Gilbert.” You finally manage to greet, falling into a practiced curtsey. 

When you pull your head back up, he has an innocuous smile on his face, eyes crinkled slightly.

“No need to lower yourself, (Name) (Last Name), soon enough we’ll be on the same social standing won’t we?”

Oh, of course he knows who you are, couldn’t make it any less difficult for you could he? Still, the provocation (actually, whether he knew it as a provocation or not was a matter to be unseen yet) of your future engagement has you irritated as well as afraid.

“You never know what might happen.” You respond neutrally. “I’d hate to offend because I grew cocky.”

“Cautious, aren’t you?” He questions.

“That’s a good trait to have, although, I can’t say I would’ve thought the woman who tamed the Brutal Beast would be so meek.”

You want to laugh at his attempt at a jab, because he couldn’t be closer to the truth.

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal. 

And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

But even still, you couldn’t help the words that poured out of your mouth.

“I would argue that being meek and being cautious are entirely different, but it must be difficult to understand from your perspective.”

“That so?” He hums. “What’s your view then?”

“That you can’t tell the difference, because for you, someone who has been powerful and feared for so long, there’s hardly any need for subtlety when dealing with others. For people like me, discretion is a necessary tool.”

A tinge of bitterness seeps into your tone as you respond, or maybe it's jealousy; you can’t tell. 

But it’s enough to make Gilbert pause, facing you, seemingly looking at you like he hasn’t seen you before, his eye glinting with something akin to interest. 

Oh.

Shit.

You’ve always had a bad habit of overplaying your hand during your time with Chevalier, possibly because you were so used to a lack of consequences due to his soft spot. It would’ve been better and safer for him to believe you were Chevalier’s little trophy wife and suffer the stab it would take to your ego. 

“...I suppose that “genius’s thinking alike” must be true, for you to be able to make such a succinct assumption about me.” He smiles, this time his eyes glinting with something darker.

“...I wouldn’t go so far as to imply that Prince Gilbert.” You say, desperate in your attempt to backtrack.

“Oh? Cowering now, are we?” He asks, the smile on his face growing more predatory. “And here I thought you’d be more vicious.”

He’s clearly trying to pry at you, to goad you into snapping at him, but you’ve since realized that the playing field had favored him from the start and you’d do better to avoid the trap he’d set for you.

“...I think you have rather high expectations, that you might think of me similar to the company I keep.”

“And you’d be right.” He says, drawing himself closer to you, even more empowering as he draws near, his red eye glistening like the blade of a knife.

You find yourself wanting to run, like the terrified lamb you are in the face of the threatening jaws of the beast in front of you.

But you don’t.

Because these damn beasts are always just toying with you, never daring to go for the killing blow.

He towers over you, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, but you find that you can’t quite summon up the effort to change your expression.

“…”

“…”

Moments pass and his eye widens a bit, seemingly shocked at your lack of expression.

“You aren’t scared, are you?” He states, more as a fact than a question as he pulls himself away to an appropriate distance.

You shrug as if to say you don’t quite care, but you felt like laughing.

The truth is, he’s wrong. 

You’re constantly scared, every single day of your life.

When you wake up, when you go to sleep, you’re filled with horror constantly, terrified by the man who lays beside you. Every move you make is calculated and stuff, made in fear of the blades, not set to cut you, but rather everything you know and love.

Even now you’re scared, not quite by the prospect of death, but by the fact that it doesn’t scare you.

The fact that you would rather accept freedom in the form of being removed from your earthly ties than to live another life being tethered to this life scares you, because you know death is the only way you’ll be safe from him.

It brings you only slight ease that despite his best efforts of chasing perfection, Chevalier still only amounts to a man.

Gilbert’s laugh snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the man in front of you.

“That’s excellent!” He says, toothy grin lighting up his face, eye lighting up like he’s a child who’s found a new toy to play with.

Somewhere deep down you can feel a familiar sense of dread forming in the pit of your stomach that only comes with Chevalier, almost like deja vu.

It shouldn’t surprise you, after all it’s said that the prince of Obsidian is a genius only the likes of Chevalier could rival. It’s the type of gossip you used to absentmindedly listen to while busying yourself walking down the streets.

Still, you’ve survived Chevalier, albeit with your share of scars, you can handle at least one chance meeting with another snobby prince.

“Are you done threatening me then Prince Gilbert? I believe my fiancé is looking for me.” You say, keeping your tone neutral.

He chuckles, that wide, creepily childlike smile still on his face as he hears you speak.

“Of course. Tell Prince Chevalier that I congratulate him on finding such an interesting toy.”

“Of course.” You mimic, turning on your heel to leave. “Perhaps next time we can meet in a more fitting setting rather than the library, Prince Gilbert.”

Petty, yes, but he doesn’t seem affected by the rebuttal you throw his way judging by the small laugh he lets out as you leave.

Toy, huh?

You think, as you find yourself retracing your steps back to the ballroom. 

More fitting than lover that’s for sure, but you doubt even a genius like Gilbert would understand from just a glance that that was the case, rather he meant it in a dismissive manner.

But still, you can’t help the bitter smile that appears on your face at the statement.

Because you would end up back at Chevalier’s side, and either through your expressions or through his own logic system that you couldn’t possibly fathom, he would understand everything that happened. And then, like always, you would end up locked up in a cage while, ironically, the beast who should be locked in there would prowl around, growling at anyone who came close, possessive of his toy.

And the worst part is, even though you could see the path paved for you, leading you to your own demise, you still had to follow it, like written in a story, like fate.

And maybe that’s why you smile instead of frown when you see your beloved captor’s face twist into a look of grim understanding as he sees you again, wordlessly gesturing you to draw nearer with his gaze.

Because ironically enough, the only person even close enough to understanding or even changing your situation was the same breed as the monster that possessed you.

And it’s an amusing thought to you.

But if you could see the expression of a certain dark haired man, thinking almost fondly on your interaction, you wouldn’t find it half as funny.

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Ok but hear me out. Gryphon lute au. Sera adds a few extra ingredients when making lute. Hawk feathers, lion teeth or claws. Apex predators of land and sky.

Big magic event of making a new angel who should be an absolute killer, and *bamf!*

Gryphon Lute is chasing the reflection of some light like a cat with a laser pointer.

Yes, that's pretty much exactly what it is

I think hwo I'm gonna have it is while the exorcists are al bde different the same type of bird that doesn't limit them to only being bird-angels

Lute is a gryphon for example, and yes, she does indeed chase around light reflections, Adam finds it fucking hilarious he has about 8 laserpointers

[ananke-xiii]

If you've been following me for a while you're certainly aware that I openly despise love triangles in fiction because they're almost always executed in a way that's completely unappealing to my personal taste and, consequently, perceived by the audience in a way that's invariably flat and flavorless to me.

For instance in Supernatural, whether you like/ship them or not, there are two established love triangles: Dean/Benny/Cas and Dean/Crowley/Cas. In both cases the apex of the triangle is considered to be, as far as I've seen, Dean and this is one of the reasons why these two triangles are boring to me. The way I personally see it (and that makes love triangles more bearable to me) is to consider the perceived apex's favourite as the real, hidden apex. In these examples, then, the real apex is actually Cas.

The way I see it, love triangles can be interesting if ALL power dynamics are explored. In the case of Dean and Benny it's so clear that it's Dean who holds all the power in the relationship because Benny is written like Dean's ideal&perfect&amazing partner that does everything Dean wants and asks for. As far as Dean and Crowley are concerned, things are different because Crowley is, initially, a total predator and a scheming abuser towards Dean until they made him discover "the power of love" that supposedly erase all the harm that was done before. Eventually, then, Dean holds way more power than Crowley in their relationship and, from beloved Juliet the hellhound's stand-in, Dean becomes Crowley's master. Both Benny and Crowley, however, "lose" the battle without even starting it because they're positioned as perfect brother/partner and fun brother/father's figures, respectively, while Dean and Cas' relationship is interesting because Dean seems to be way more interested in a third type of relationship, aka that with his best friend.

The thing is that in both these scenarios the one who really holds all the power is Cas. He literally doesn't need to do or say anything and Dean would "choose" him anyway. And viceversa with Dean (in different cases than these ones, though, in Dean's case the "third wheel" in his relationship with Cas is Heaven which, admittedly, is much worse than what Cas has to face). The power dynamics between Dean and Cas is just much more interesting than the other two because it's like a seesaw, it's always about them even when other people are involved. They're each other's best friend and it's very, very difficult to compete with that because (and I think Supernatural did very well in this respect) "best friendship" is not "just" about support and love. There's also antagonism and eroticism and everything that a non-threatening, charming, desired relationship with the Other entails. It is indeed magnetic and it's at its best when it's described as a polarity unless, I think, the third or fourth party chiming in is "powerful" enough to destabilize the connection.

And this is precisely why I don't care for these love triangles. In Dean/Benny/Cas case it's just so obvious that the moment Cas would eventually come knocking on Dean's metaphorical door no ideal&perfect&amazing partner could compete. I could've been interested if they gave more space to Cas and Benny's relationship: give me jealousy or competition or curiosity even, whatever, but give me some spice. To me it wasn't spicy enough so the love triangle feels bland to me (the actors played very well, I'm not talking about perfomances here, I'm talking about what we actually get to see on the screen).

The Dean/Crowley/Cas is potentially veeeery good because Crowley and Cas have history and if they had showed a little bit of that the triangle could've been interesting to me. In other words, I guess what I'm saying is that I don't like these love triangles because there isn't enough Cas&third party-related dynamics in them and, the way I personally see it, he was the real, hidden apex in both cases. Things would've been just much more savoury to me if that was actually showed (I believe it was implicitly showed because Cas' appearance/disappearance in Dean's life is what starts/ends these triangles but, like, the whole point is that I needed more screentime with Cas and Benny and Cas and Crowley for the trope to be interesting. To me).

[witchofthesouls]

I've had prime predacons on the brain, do they have mating habits? Do they lay eggs? Since predaking is the leader of the last 3 predacons does that mean he gets first dibs if a lady dragon/predacon shows up or would it be a battle of suitors? Do predacons make good parents even with the fact they're technically clones and only have vague genetic memories of their culture to pass on?

I got sooooooo many thoughts about Predacons and their influence on Cybertron's modern-day frame-schematics, especially with that throw-away line about Seekers. Like I'm running away with it~!! 🏃‍♀️

Seekerkin can trace their frame and coding quirks back to the Predacon species that delved into the Rust Sea. Unlike their exclusive land and air kith, the sea hunters were able to escape the catastrophic radiation by diving down into the depths.

These particular subspecies of Predacon passed many traits to their descendants, including but not limited to: the sexual dimorphism of larger, powerful femmes to agile, brightly-colored mechs, the trine-protocols and flocking mechanisms, multiples in carriage, prey-drives, and superior senses akin to beastformers and mechanimals.

The Wilder tribes still use vocalizations and have behaviors that can be traced back to their ancient kin and kith via oral traditions from Keepers. This leads to a lot of tension with the Seekerkin city-states that try to erase and rewrite the history of their frames.

While Vos is framed for their trine-protocols and being a strange breed of aerials onto itself, Praxus refined the hunting tactics and flocking behavior, and Polyhex's wetlands and underground labyrinths kept polished the traits that made them formidable sea predators.

The Predacons eschewed Prima's Call and his Guiding Hand for the established city-states to remain in the Wilds. Capable of speech and sharp intelligence, Predaking's kith were the apex predators of the sky, hunting down others for food, and were terrors to the young mecha prior to T-cogs.

This is due to claims of superiority. Unlike the other frames, they didn't require the immediate protection of the Primes. On top of their massive size and strength, flight and fire capabilities, advanced nanite colonies, thick armor, and heightened senses, the Predacons have a very unique quirk: collective unconscious.

Predacons are proud of their closeness to nature and beastly frames. In their opinion, they are the second closest to Primus, outside of the Thirteen, because of it. "A gift," they decree, by the Creator to give them such wild frames suited to the planet with the capabilities to shape it.

In the oral traditions of the Wilders, it's said some of their ancient kith could bend "cold fire" aka lightning. And that's why certain landmarks in the Wastelands still stand in defiance of Time and Prima's "Forceful" Hand. It was also said that they often crossed with "the Shadow of the Light" and the "Lord of Beasts."

Out of all the Primes, they respect the inescapable strength and spirit of Megatronus, Solus' forging and might, and Onyx for his understanding of their kind as he, too, ventured to the edges of extremes. "Lord of Beasts," indeed. They are creatures suited to an untamed Cybertron.

The social structures of the land hunters are very loose and minimal. Adults are mainly solitary creatures with exceptions to mating season, child-rearing, and seasonal gatherings to collectively mine volcanoes for minerals and guide massive storms to ignite new Energon nodes- preparations for the lean portion of the vorn.

The sea hunters are smaller and slimmer than their land-counterparts, so they have strong social ties of multiple generations to maximize the survival of their young, resource efficiency, and hunting tactics.

The mating behaviors of Predacons differ by their type, but there are similarities. Do they do not feel shame over cycles; heats and ruts are simply a fact of life. Much like beastformers, Predacons have reproductive heats.

There's courting gifts of fresh kills, raw ores, and chunks of minerals as well as showing off skills.

If there's an uncourted or unclaimed female in heat, then a Dance or a Mating Hunt will occur after competition has been bullied to back down. Females in heat are highly temperamental and incredibly aggressive, so those who wish to remain single and unmated would either cripple or kill persistent hunters.

Among the sea hunters, males show off their bright colors and hues to demonstrate health and virility as well as attempt to groom or nuzzle a female of a different pod/flock. It's common for a binary or triad of males to mate-nap a female from elsewhere: proving their tactics against her and her extended kin.

Whereas the males of the land hunters will show off strength by battling other males in the vicinity to prove their worthiness among his nearby neighbors before battling her for breeding rights.

If a female Predacon (or Seekerkin) was discovered, then Predaking would bully the other males to establish dominance before stepping up to plate to fight her.

Child-rearing is a shared responsibility. Nest building and bulking it with supplies. Keeping out intruders since baby Predacons cannot properly fly until they reach near mechling stage (adolescence).

Males can't produce sparkling-grade, so females are stuck in the nest until the newsparks gain their sight and actually climb out.

Mechs do help with a special tank in their frames that reguitates a melted slag of nutrients that helps boost the newsparks' systems.

Once the sparklings can eat more solid, the sire and carrier will take turns hunting and caring the nest.

Sea hunters have an easier time as child-rearing is more communal. Newsparks and sparklings are defended and supported by well-established adults guarding the shallow nursery reef, while hunters support the pod with an influx of food.

[r0-boat]

Courting gift

Tarzan! Emmet x gn!reader.

Sfw drabble

When Zoroark's court, they give valuable gifts, whether that be food or some sort of trophy from accessible hunt, anything to show their strength and ability to provide.

Emmet was in a dilemma with this human he had been watching for quite a while. You were indeed not a Zoroark, and he had not cared enough in the past to pay attention to what humans like to give their mates. He would like to kick his past self in the tail now that he was actively trying to court the human that had just set up camp in the middle of the woods.

What do humans like??

This question he pondered while digging through his den, deciding to hold on to some sparkling rocks that caught his interest and some bones from his greatest kills. His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance; you ignored the berries and bones he had left before he almost got your attention with the shiny rocks. He watched you from the dense brush as you picked up one to inspect it, only to put it to the side.

Humans were quite picky creatures, but he would not give up. He did not want to lose you to a weak and inferior human he always sees stumbling around the man-made dens.

No, he was better as the same member of your species that seem to have a close bond with Pokemon as you did. And not only that, he was strong, having been essentially raised by Zoroark apex predators of Hisui. He could hold his own against any threat that threatened you, he could make sure you were fed every day, and he could provide you with warmth and love beyond your wildest dreams. Emmet hated losing, especially when he was obviously the better choice.

That's when his eyes laid upon it, his precious treasure, a medium-sized rock that he had found back when he was fooling around in the caves with the pups in his pack. For some reason, the indents and markings drew him to this rock. And he knew that you would be drawn to this rock like he was before.

When he laid the rock in front of your tent, his heart hammered in his chest like the last few times he had placed something in front of your tent before. He had never interacted with another member of his own species; now, the thought of doing so scared him. At some point, Emmet wants to get closer, but for now, just watching you from a distance is enough

With a yawn, you stretch your first week camping alone in the wilderness. It was Child's Play compared to your previous excursions going head to head with dangerous Alpha Pokemon. However, a few days after trying to map out your camping spot and the forests surrounding it, you've had peculiar things happen to you. It seems something or someone had been leaving items around your tent. You thought at first it was some wild Pokemon, but you have come to realize that the Pokemon around here were far too skittish around humans for that.

First, it would be berries. The berries looked fresh enough though you had no idea where they came from then; it was shiny rocks and bones. You wish you could at least find the Pokemon that was giving you these trinkets, and they get with at least a scratch under the chin and coo about its cute and unusual behavior. When you crawled out of your tent, you had failed to see the much larger Rock from the last just outside your tent.

You hissing pain as you stub your toe picking up the rock. Your eyes widen when you turn it over. It was just a plain rock at first, but the markings that resembled a feather felt nostalgic for you, a sense of warmth culminating in your chest as your fingers gently traced over the plume. Wanting to keep this strange rock that gave you such a feeling of warmth safe, you brought out your bag from your tent, stuffing the stone inside.

From the bushes, his eyes widen, seeing the slight smile on your face, his heart trumming in his chest.

Does this mean you accept his courting gift?

He wanted to puff out his chest in pride and March up to you, presenting himself as the male who gave that illustrious gift to you, but something within him stopped him. The idea of your eyes upon him made butterflies flutter in his stomach; the concept of Emmet being in your presence made him feel shy. He wasn't ready, but he didn't want someone else to take you. He would have to work up the courage, and by tonight, he would finally meet you. What could possibly go wrong?