#ungulate express

[celesse]

I was wondering if you were going to do a special Christmas/holiday design this year like you did with Halloween?

Happy Holiday! 🎄

I'm not sure if I'll have time to do a new design this year, but I currently have last year's Ungulate Express shirts available!

You can keep an eye on the Ungulate Express collection here and also sign up for the newsletter to be alerted to any new designs that might drop 💖

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Let's talk about zoo animal welfare for a second...

(And I want to preface this by saying I have a 4 year Bachelor degree in Animal Science (focusing in welfare and behaviour with a major in Canine and Equine Science) before I got sidetracked into zoo animals and did 3 internships working with wild canids, ungulates and marine mammals - this involved both hands on behaviour modification/desenitisation as well as hands off behavioural observation and welfare study. I worked for 2 years as a marine mammal specialist and worked specifically in facilities to improve husbandry, behavioural training and welfare practises.

I also worked in a facility in the Asia Pacific, working to improve welfare standards for bottlenose dolphins and continued to work with cetacean welfare researchers after this. I also did a course in zoo management, husbandry and welfare and this involved working in an accredited zoo facility learning things like exhibit design, behaviour management and husbandry with multiple species.)

So a few points to say about zoo animal welfare when discussing zoo standards and practises:

The average person does not have the expertise to do behaviour observation and welfare evaluation in zoo animals - that's why when the general public visits a zoo and says "the animal looks sad" it's worth being skeptical of that claim. But it doesn't mean a gut feeling about a zoo's quality can be completely invalid. Just that it might be worth researching further or seeking more information.

However, with experience, it is possible to analyse behaviour in the context of welfare. And context to that behaviour is always important (for example, Moo Deng showing stress related behaviour towards the specific context of being touched or followed around by her keeper - very much an indication of poor handling practises)

Poor animal husbandry and welfare is not limited to specific countries or regions, however it can be more normalised and accepted under the influnce of cultures and laws. Or even just the culture of the zoo itself such as the "this is the way we've always done it" places.

Being an accredited zoo is a start to good welfare, but it doesn't make any sort of welfare concern obsolete. And accreditation is supposed to ensure that welfare concerns are addressed but because they are mostly run as a volunteer based organisation, they often don't have resources to check into every concern (unless it's a government funded organisation)

A zoo contributing to conservation research is great, but not if it is at the expense of the animals' welfare - welfare should always be prioritised, with research and conservation efforts to follow.

Welfare is a state that is in flux. So a negative welfare state can move into positive welfare state under different influences.

There are multiple factors that influence zoo animal welfare: enclosure/habitat, expression of natural behaviour, guest interaction, diet, enrichment, water quality, hygeine ect. It'll rarely just be one factor, though it does depend how salient that factor is.

Just because a keeper or management of a zoo have been there for a long time, doesn't mean they can't be criticised - it is possible to be still using outdated practises and believing in methodologies and management practises that need updating - that's the whole point of continued education

Having limited resources can often impact welfare. Giving a facility the resources they need to improve is a good start to improving welfare.

Even if an animal is being handled in an inappropriate way for a short time, that doesn't mean that can't have long term implications for welfare eg. if every time your dog jumped on you when you got home and you smacked him in the face once before going on with your day, that doesn't mean that your dog won't learn negative associations with your arrival just because it was one time.

Best practise husbandry of zoo animals involves:

Use of positive reinforcement based voluntary husbandry and health care

All interaction based on choice and voluntary interaction that is reinforced with primary reinforcement such as food

Mostly hands off approaches for the species that require them (ungulates, large primates, large carnivores)

Relatively stable social groups with aggression only in specific situations/contexts that are normal for the species

Back areas for animals to rest outside of public view

Species appropriate habitats to meet species specific behaviour requirements

Five freedoms of welfare being met but goes above and beyond the bare minimum

Poor zoo animal husbandry involves animals:

Being forced into anything such as presentations, education programs, medical procedures/gating

Any use of physical punishment such as chasing, slapping, pushing or poking - negative reinforcement such as bull hooks are also fairly outdated in handling species like elephants

Being excessively handled, chased and touched/restrained for no reason (eg. for social media videos)

Showing signs of avoidance and aggression constantly towards their keepers

Have constant conflict happening in their social groups

Are living in enclosures that are not suitable for their specific specific needs - size is only one factor in this. Substrate, habitat design, water quality ect. are also things to consider.

Are too close to the public/at risk from the public

Have no areas to retreat from the public/rest away from potential stressors

Have no enrichment program/no daily enrichment

Those are all flags that there could be some poor welfare happening and that a zoo is not prioritising welfare

Okay there's the ramble of the day done. Feel free to ask questions for further clarification if needed.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Paschal Moon

Summary: Jensen finds crossing the tracks isn’t always a bad thing

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Astronomer!Reader

WC: 2358

Warnings: some angst, really bad punning(sorry) divorce, cheating, innuendos, cursing, reader says shit like I do IRL 😅

A/N: 10/24-I’ve fixed the grammatical errors and expanded this part, cause you know me, I can be chatty and I've written a sequel!

Square Filled: @winchesterandbeyondbingo -midnight @spnmixedbingo -secret dating @spnaubingo -wet dream @j3bingo -camping @howbadcanitbebingo -cliche galore

*Moldavite

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no Beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

It was Thursday night, and once again, Jensen found himself the proverbial third wheel. The Padalecki’s meant well, dragging him everywhere with them since he filed for divorce, wanting to keep him from brooding with a bottle when not with his kids.

And it wasn’t that Jensen didn’t mind socializing. It was knowing the evening would be filled with repetitive I’m sorry, and the look of sympathy that sent him straight to the open bar first for many a shot nowadays. 

Feeling the slight buzz he needed kicking in, Jensen put on his game face and, with another tumbler of liquid courage in hand, made the rounds, chatting amicably with various groups and catching up with old friends.

Things were going pretty well until some dumb fuck turned to Genevieve, loudly blurting they’d heard Danneel making the rounds with guys with more sizable assets was the reason for the divorce pissed off her moose-sized husband, who bellows shut your unprepossessing cake hole causes a momentary distraction allowing Jensen to escape out a nearby door before punching the sonuvabitch with the double entendre himself. 

Slamming it shut, he stomped to the riverside view, wrapping both hands around the horizontal guardrail and squeezing like he was wringing a chicken's neck when the simultaneous swish of fabric and a hand holding half a glass of liquid appeared.

“Looks like you could use this more than me.” 

Jensen’s eyes met those of the tall drink of water he’d noticed throughout the evening. Looking at the glass again made her laugh, “I’m not slipping you a Mickey.” Lifting it to her lips, he watched her throat ungulate as she drank and felt Jen Jr. rising to attention. “See, Peaches, I’m not some crazy stalker.” 

Jensen takes the glass and feels a spark when their fingers brush. “Thanks, I wasn’t thinking..that.” Throwing back the rest, he appreciates the liquor's smooth slide down his throat. “It’s been a pretty shitty evening.”

“Preaching to the choir, Peaches! I came ‘cause my second cousin on my mama’s side girl broke up with him, and now I know why.” She bends over and retrieves a bottle, giving Jensen a fantastic view of her breasts artfully showcased in her cocktail dress, and pops up, pointing the bottle at him.

 “That motherfucker thought he could pimp me out for a promotion! What the hell is it with people having a ring on it?” She grabs his left wrist, tilting it so the outdoor lights glint off the wedding band he hasn’t removed yet, “Acting like this means absofuckinglutely nothing?”

“Now you’re preaching to the choir. My soon-to-be ex was doing that while I was working in Vancouver and telling everyone it’s because I’m lacking.” Jensen couldn’t stop self-dissing since catching Danneel and one of his closest friends together.

“Hoooly shit!  You’re the guy whose wife runs around saying you couldn’t find her clit with a map, GPS, or fucking bullseye paint on it!” Jensen’s eyes widened at her audacity. “Hell, most gals just use a vibrator if they wanna get off that bad. And did you just admit your package is..?” She wiggles her pinky finger while refilling the glass, “Don’t get me wrong, no shame if you know how to use it.” 

She finally noticed his expression slapped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! My mouth doesn’t know how to stop once I get started. Blame it on my upbringing.” Jensen took a drink to cover his humiliation, and a stiffener for no telling what she’d say next asked, “Upbringing?”

Removing her hand reveals a guileless smile: “You know what they say, you can take the girl outta the trailer park.” Bewilderment crossed his face to her self-deprecating response. “Yeah, I’m that relative they always warned you about.”

“Little late with the warning, sweetheart.”

She burst out laughing, and Jensen found himself doing the same.

Later

Jensen couldn’t believe it. 

In his profession, showing unscripted emotions was a sign of weakness many would exploit. Yet, here he was, a forty-three-year-old man usually in control, sitting outback of this building with a woman he’d never met before, who’d upended that control.

She was the distraction he needed before knowing it; he did something he’d never do under normal circumstances, told her everything, and got a response of, “That sucks balls, and not in a good way!”

“Kicker is; she wants alimony.”

“What a gall darn minute. You caught your almost ex doing the beast with two backs, right?” Jensen hums in response. “Peaches, I’m no lawyer, but I’d say that ain’t fucking happening,” She tips the second five-finger discounted bottle over the glass he’d again drained. “And no offense, your ex makes those whores back in Ratchet City look almost pious. Most have the decency not to fuck in your bed.”

Jensen rubbed his face, “I can’t believe I’ve told a stranger about my marital problems.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to unburden yourself to someone you don’t know.”

“I haven’t even told my family or Jared!”

“And Jared is?”

“The guy who has my back no matter what.” She ponders his response for a moment. “That’s probably why. You’re afraid that if he knows what happened, it’ll diminish how he sees you.” Jensen appeared confused. “Guys POV... if I caught my wife fucking around and saying it’s cause I couldn’t keep her satisfied in the sack, I’d not wanna discuss it either. But I know it’s,” wiggles pinky again, “Horseshit.”

“How?”

“You dress left, and I’ve never had an iPhone stand up to say hello.” Jensen struggled to formulate a coherent response. “Ahh, come on, Peaches, you know you’ve given many people wet dreams about the Ackelconda.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Cause you’ve got the juiciest peach of an ass, and I wouldn’t kick you outta bed for eating crackers,” she says, winking at him, but before he responds, they hear a booming, “Jensen!” Jared appears out the side door, walking towards them. “Fuck, man, I’ve been looking all over for you!  We need to get going; it’s almost midnight.”

“Well, pooh, and here I thought I was going to get lucky,” she says as they stand up; a ringing church bell echoes across the river twelve times. “Guess it’s time to leave the ball and head back to the pumpkin patch.” 

Walked past Jared, she nodded and was almost to the open door when Jensen yelled, “Wait!” She paused as he ran over, “You can’t leave this way. I don’t even know your name.” She held out a hand, “Give me your phone.” He unlocked it and noticed her smirk while she was typing. “Give me a ring if you ever cross the tracks, Peaches." 

Both men appreciated her retreating form when Jared asked, “Who was that?” Jensen doesn’t answer until she disappears in the crowded room, then glances at the screen and gets his you’ve got to be kidding face.

“Cinderella.”

****

Weeks later

One afternoon, they were hanging out watching football, and Jared, tired of nagging Jensen about getting back on the horse and calling her, pulled out the big guns, telling him if he was going to act like a girl, maybe he should put on a skirt and call himself Jane.

That irked an inebriated Jensen, who fumbled his phone out of his pocket, pulled up her contact info…and chickened out again, tossing it on the couch. Jared saw her number on the screen and tapped call, knowing he risked getting kneed in the nads. Two rings later, her voice came through the speaker. 

“Peaches, you’re slower than molasses crawling uphill in January giving a girl a holler.” Hearing her voice mellowed Jensen, and they agreed to meet on Friday at a hole-in-the-wall for lunch where he wouldn’t be recognized.

That lunch became dinner. Dinner became bar hopping, and after indulging in one too many, they sneaked into Blue Hole Regional Park, went skinny dipping, and did things that would scare fish. Afterward, she takes him to a Waffle House, somewhere he hadn’t been in years, for a bowl of 4 AM chili.

****

Monday morning, coffeeholic Jensen grumpily fumbles around the shoebox-sized kitchen in her hundred-year-old farmhouse, searching for a mug while waiting on an aged percolator to finish.

Bending over to look in the dishwasher, he discovers one with a rainbow-maned unicorn flipping the bird, saying, I Run On Caffeine Sarcasm & Cuss Words.  Straightening up, Jensen bangs his head on an overhanging cabinet and finds the last two words apropos. Finally brewed, Jensen steps out onto the shady front porch, sipping on the dark roast, and sits in one of the old rockers, contemplating if he’s having a midlife crisis.

They were barely acquainted twenty-four hours before they got together, in the biblical sense. He heard Dean's gravelly voice telling him to stop being a dumbass, that he deserved this after the shellacking Danneel delivered the last few months.

What astounds Jensen is that when his heart broke harder than he knew it could, she was the solace he craved, and he began to believe it would mend with her.

Jensen was nervous because tonight was extra special.

A few months back, she bounded into his home excited about an upcoming celestial event and field trip her astronomy class was taking. She really, really wanted him to go, even though they agreed to keep their relationship secret until he’d finalized his divorce. It struck Jensen that it would be the perfect night to do something he’d wanted to do since their first date, so he said yes while mentally making other arrangements for the night.

****

“Peaches, this isn’t the way.”

“We’re not going there sweetheart.”

“I realize that Captain Obvious! What I want to know, wtf?!  Are you trying to get me fired? I have a class...."

“That Dr. Carnegie is graciously covering.”

“Why is..what did you do Jensen?”

“I went to the head of your department,” she groaned, “And inquired if someone else could supervise because I’d planned a special night with my girl.”

“What happened to us keeping on the DL? Carnegie is the biggest blabbermouth! Everyone on the planet’s gonna know about us by morning!”

“My divorce was finalized this morning.”

“WHAT!” she indignantly squawked. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Jensen bemusedly listened to her ongoing rant, eventually picking up her hand and kissing its back, entwining their fingers as he drove on for another hour to Inks Lake State Park. “Since when do you camp out?” She asks when he pays for an overnight camping permit. “Cause the one time I asked, you gave me stink face at the mention of a tent.”

“Since the day you bounded into my home all excited and asked me to come with you. I wanted to make tonight special.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I sincerely appreciate you compromising your creature comforts for me.” Jensen scratched the back of his head, “Well, it’s not technically camping out. I got an air mattress that fits in the truck bed.”

“I know it’s a yearly thing, so what makes this one so special?” Jensen asked as he gazed up at the moon awash with a vivid pink hue. The question made her lift her head from the telescope’s eyepiece, and an amused expression crossed her features.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? Or do you want me to paint you like one of those French girls?” Jensen peers down at his unintentional position: one hand tucked behind his head, bowed legs splayed, one knee slightly bent, his other hand lying near the sliver of skin peeking out between his dark henley and well-worn jeans.

 “What makes this one so special?” She walks towards the truck, setting foot on the back bumper, gripping the tailgate, and hopping over it onto the mattress. “It is the moon's proximity to the earth.” She crawls forward, placing her hands on either side of his shoulders and slung a leg over Jensen’s hips, slowly sitting down. “Plus, being ultra-close, the color is so vivid that whatthehellisinyourpants!!”

Jensen quickly sits up, about to grab her waist so she doesn’t hit the sidewall, but she scoots down his legs. “That’d better be a sex toy in your pants and not Peyronie’s disease.” Jensen gave her a bewildered look. “What can I say? I like your cock as is. Curves just right for my pleasure.”

“Your mouth is gonna be the death of me..” “..but what a way to go?”

Jensen flopped on his back, groaning, “This isn’t how I imagined tonight going.” She smiled and crawled back over him, “So let’s pretend we’re on set. I’ve flubbed the scene and do another take.”

“That’s why I love you,” reaching up, Jensen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The fact that everything that pops into my head comes flying out of my mouth?” Jensen chuckles at her question. “Yeah, I like you, just as you are.” He reaches into the pocket she sat on, pulls out a box, and opens it, revealing the ring he’d chosen. “And would be the luckiest man alive if you’d marry me.”

Taking her left hand, he slides it on her finger, feeling apprehensive at her silence. It is almost deafening, having never known her without any response. “Getting nervous here, sweetheart,” Jensen says as he sits up. "Look, I know we’ve only been together for a short time. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to answer right now.”

“What’s the stone?”

“Umm... it’s a Moldavite.” She gets that expression he still isn’t sure what to make of it. “I know it’s not conventional, and if you want to pick something else,” Jensen breaks off, watching her eyes fill with tears.

“You gave me this not ‘cause you’re being cheap. The stone, you knew what the significance of its origin would mean to me.” She cupped his cheek, “You’ve never put on airs with me, never been anything other than yourself. A genuine, caring, funny-as-hell doofus with a beautiful soul and I’m saying yes!”

Paschal Moon 2.0-coming 10/24

SPNTAGS:  @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva @lassie-bird  @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987   @smoothdogsgirl @deans-spinster-witch

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

How would ungulates do sign language with a more limited possible set of signs? I feel like ears would be a big factor, but they can't replace hands. Leg motion could be a partial factor, but then they couldn't really walk and talk.

My assumption is that you mean a quadrupedal sapient species, like sapient deer or horses, since walking on all fours would indeed prevent the use of any forelimbs being a tool of silent communication.

in this case, I think they would put a lot more emphasis on facial expression and body language. The examples I'm drawing are all in profile because ungulates tend to have very wide vision with a blind spot directly in front of their face. as a result, visual communication would be best done while two of them are standing next to each other.

(image description: four simple sketches of a deer-like creature's head, displaying different forms of body language. first, the option to use its large ears like semaphore flags, moving them in different directions. second, the option to use blinking as morse code. third, the option of head motion, shown here as a nodding movement. fourth, the option of an expressive face, shown here as the creature making a face of disgust with its mouth open, nose crinkled, and ears laid back. end description.)

you could go with a combination of these, studying the body language of horses in particular. horses are domestic animals that have a complex relationship of communicating with humans, so that's a good place to start for nonverbal hands-free communicative language!

morse code and semaphore flags rely heavily on alphabetic spelling, with their signs mostly just representing singular letters. but your ungulate folk can assign bigger meanings to their own ear and blinking signals! especially combining it with the motion of the head and the expressiveness of their mouth, I'm sure they could create a whole complex language. it may not directly translate out into clean english grammar, of course, but neither do real human sign languages.

I don't think they would, for example, be able to communicate something as distinct as "oh I think I see a strange creature hiding between the trees just ahead of us", but they could communicate "strange creature [that direction] hide" or something like that. it's not necessary for their language to have complicated grammar. Language only needs to be able to convey ideas in a clear manner.

hope that helps! i'm no expert on sign language, so maybe some of my followers will have more ideas to add.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Dirubael

This entry happens to be pretty clear on what the animal looks like, so there's a strong similarity between the different depictions this week -- the main difference is how each artist interprets what the hell is going on with these horns.

If you're not sure what this is about, you can find an explanation and the rest of the series so far at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

The entry people are working from this week can be found here:

And if you want to join in for next week, that creature's entry can be found here:

And now, art in chronological order as it was posted:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has designed an antelope-like creature that almost passes as normal if you're just scrolling past... and then you look at it properly and see that it has horned eyestalks. That is wild and I love it. (Fencing with those horns must be a challenge since its eyes are also moving around, but I assume it's adapted for that kind of thing.) More commentary to be found in the linked post.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) went more of a rhinocerous direction, resulting in this nifty-looking creature. The thick, sturdy build here plus the tusks probably make this one pretty formidable in a fight even if it didn't have long, mobile horns. Dangerous beast. Also take a moment to admire that background, and consider clicking on the linked post for more details on inspiration & sources. (And thank you for providing alt text.)

@pomrania (link to post here) has another creative interpretation of what these mobile horns might actually be -- they're actually clusters of quills that can tense up into horn-like structures when the creature needs them. I think that's quite clever, and I really like the choice to show it fencing on the left there.

@ectocs (link to post here) has something that looks kind of like a boar and kind of like an ungulate... I'm getting "dog", too, mostly from the legs, but that might just be because that's the type of quadruped I spend the most time around. Solid Nonspecific Mammal either way. Anyway, the stand-out here is the interpretation of its mobile horns -- they're a set of mantis-like forelimbs, which happen to rest against the sides of its head to give the appearance of horns. I like this interpretation a lot. Check out the linked post for more information, sketches, and (I enjoy this) a recreation of this creature in Spore.

@citrvsdrake (link to post here) has also given us a very solid Nonspecific Mammal that's a kind of of boar / buffalo / horse blend. This one has traditional horns, but the way they are positioned communicates quite clearly that they are mobile. Fairly threatening expression, too, so let's scroll away quickly. (Welcome, Citrvsdrake!)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) notes that their interpretation has ended up going in the direction of "necromantic experiment", which... yeah, it definitely does look like that. We've got a few different animals blended together for the shape of its body, then a boar's skull with some additional spikes for the horns, and a spiky, exposed spine down its back. Honestly, if your necromancers aren't making stuff like this, what are they even doing with their time?

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has joined a general consensus of "boar-like creature with long legs like a horse", which really is a sound interpretation of the text. Traditional horns, and the linked post talks a bit about the difficulty of such an anatomical feature (as well as other things, go check it out). That's a pretty good boar's head, in my opinion. Also impressed by the fact that CheapSweets is doing this with a brush pen.

All right, to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

As I'm sure is completely obvious from this picture, this creature is the Yale.

(Unrelated to the U.S. university as far as I know -- I checked, and the university appears to be named after Iâl in Wales, while the creature's name probably comes from the Hebrew word for "ibex". Though according to Wikipedia, the university does feature some decorative yales in various places, presumably as an obscure pun in a "canting arms" sort of way.)

This is another one of those mythical creatures that didn't quite make it into the modern consciousness -- an ibex that fences with its horns is maybe a bit too low-key to compete with manticores and dragons for attention.

Also, I have to note that I think it's interesting how the medieval artist decided "jaws of a boar" didn't include tusks. The only visual indication I see here is maybe those jowls?

[baaaa-king]

HUENICORN SPECIS INFO DUMP

hayyyy, so like, i have most of it in a docs but imma post some here and you can read the rest!, the ramble is under Read more

HUENICORNS

Huenicorns are a humanoid species who are friendly to humanity due to their origins. Where ever Humans are, so are Huenicorns.

 Huenicrons can be characterized by their loud, bright and heavily saturated skin and clothing colours; which they refer to as ‘colour schemes’, their enormous height compared to the average human, their singular hooves which make up their feet like other Equine Ungulates, their partially unmoving  and permanently affixed masks which, often depicting cheerful expressions, a long tufted tail and finally, one or multiple horns, spiraling from their heads.

 Huenicorns are also known for their seemingly overly cheerful dispositions, not saying that they are incapable of feeling negative emotions, it’s just incredibly hard for them to do so. You’d have to be, enquote, “The most annoying, narcissistic, pessimistic, rotten, two-timing lowlife to even get a semblance of a frown from one of those clown fellas”. Huenicorns choose to see the bright side and have fun in every situation, to the point where they are often thought of as reckless and unserious at the best of times. This is simply not true. Huenicorns are highly intelligent and empathetic. Their antics are more often than not the perk up everyone needs in order to progress in some way shape or form. Most people don’t want to admit it, but seeing these goofy horse-clown-people is enough to brighten ones day majority of the time.

HISTORY AND ORIGINS

Huenicorns just kinda showed up one day. That’s literally how they originated.

In the 23rd century, the KromeWorks Science Institute of Earth had a stabilized portal to what has been dubbed ‘false space’, a parallel plane of existence from which a new form of energy had been discovered. The first Huenicorn wasn’t even discovered until a newly employed intern was tasked with reporting to the head of the project at the time, Guerro Monti. Upon the Intern’s arrival, they stopped in their tracks. The rest of the staff were used to new interns staring and marveling at the stable portal and paid them no mind. It was only when they spoke that they realized something was off.

“Mr Monti sir, was there supposed to be an 8 foot tall cryptid in a lab coat on your team?”

At that the entire team paused and slowly turned to the, now noticed, 8 foot tall multicoloured (unnamed at the time, in both individual and species) creature holding a clipboard near the portal. He gave an enthusiastic wave. “Hello!” And all hell broke loose.

Read more on the Docs so Tumblr doesn't die on me ksjdsj

[adobe-outdesign]

got any thoughts on Tonu?

Tonu are obviously rhinos, though in classic Neopets style they have a mane (seriously, Neopets LOVES manes) and a few large spots on their sides. They sport a singular horn on their nose and standard odd-toed ungulate feet. They're nothing fancy, but they have just enough that they don't feel overly straightfoward to their IRL animal counterpart. Color use is also good, with a light base color for the skin and darker accents on the mane, tail, horn, and toes. No complaints here.

The Tonu definitely benefited from customization, loosing the very strange looking face with its oversized eyes, improper perspective on the left side, and unneeded line under the horn. Stuff like the tail shape and the mane size also improved, and the number of small spots on the side were reduced by one.

Favorite Colours:

8-bit: I went over this in my 8-bit colour review so I'm not going to go into too much depth here, but this is a beautiful color. There's lots of details in the pixels, including multiple layers of shading, and it comes with a very fun rainbow mane and unicorn-esq horn/tail. These elements are wearable as a bonus, so you don't have to keep them if you don't care for them—though personally I like them a lot, and I feel like they keep the colour from being overly bland.

Candy: What can I say? Tonus just do really well with rainbows. The candy Tonu has a subtly swirled pink candy body with these rainbow cotton-candy accents, including a unique shape for the mane and tail. The horn is given stripes to match, and some blue eyes make the whole thing pop. It's tasty, it's pretty, and it's fun—what's not to like?

Wraith: Wraith is one of those colors where how good it looks depends entirely on whatever artist worked on that species. I'm happy to report that the artist who worked on the Tonu did a great job with it. The entire body has a very fluid motion to it, with swirls around the mane and tail, and tings like their knees and nostrils have become stylized shapes. There's a careful balance of positive and negative space, and an appropriately malicious expression. Good stuff.

BONUS: Using a birch tree (and yes it is a birch, though admittedly the leaf shapes are a bit off) for the Tonu because of its white, rough, constantly-peeling bark is a brilliant pick, as it perfectly fits with a rhino's rough skin. The textures are good and wrap around the body correctly, and the leaf mane and tail are integrated with care. (An honorable shoutout goes to magma, which is solid but didn't quite make the cut.)

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Outside Online:

On February 29, Daniel, Wyoming resident Cody Roberts allegedly ran a juvenile wolf down with his snowmobile, taped its mouth shut, transported it to the town’s Green River Bar, posed for photos with the animal, then either beat or shot it to death, depending on which version of the report you read. State wildlife officials received a tip about the incident, and later fined Roberts $250 for a misdemeanor violation of Wyoming’s prohibition against possession of live wildlife. No other charges or penalties have been brought against him. As of April 10, however, the Sublette County Sheriff’s Office announced that they—along with the Sublette County Attorney’s office—are now investigating Roberts.

“The individual was cited for a misdemeanor violation of Wyoming Game and Fish Commission regulations, Chapter 10, Importation and Possession of Live Warm-Blooded Wildlife,” says the Wyoming Game and Fish Department in a statement addressing the incident. “The department’s investigation indicated there were no other statutory or regulatory violations.”

The 206-word statement itself acknowledges the controversy that’s raging around the incident, saying: “The department acknowledges the significant concern and dismay expressed by many people from around the state and nation.”

Why was Roberts able to torture a wolf to death with no serious consequences? The answer lies not only in Wyoming’s incredibly lax wildlife regulations, but also in the violence that permeates the relationship between the state and its most famous wild animal.

After being extirpated in 1926, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) reintroduced wolves to Wyoming in Yellowstone National Park in 1995. Wolves, the villains in many childhood stories, are a locus of fear for humans. But the animal also serves a vital role in its native ecosystem, where it helps keep ungulate populations healthy by slowing the spread of disease. And it does that at a net financial benefit to taxpayers, since tourists now flock to the state to view wolves. A study conducted in 2021 found that wolf-related tourism brings over $35 million annually to areas surrounding the park.

Speaking of taxes, before all the culture warring and fear mongering, it was the goal of the Republican Party to reduce tax burdens faced by the wealthy and corporations. The Republican Party’s policy positions are widely unpopular, so the GOP instead hoodwinks voters using fear and lies. The Republican-led Wyoming Statehouse passed a bill in 2021 calling to exterminate 90 percent of the state’s wolf population—a bill based on lies and misinformation. Pushing for policies based on fear instead of science has led to regulations around wolves that are unique among wildlife laws, mostly in their encouragement of cruelty.

When management of the species transferred from federal to state control in 2012, Wyoming’s political leaders established two distinct areas with differing population management goals. Areas adjacent to Yellowstone were set aside for trophy hunting, where wolf hunting is regulated. The rest of the state was designated a “predator zone” where wolves can be killed without regulation, reason, or justification. Wyoming also classifies coyotes, red fox, stray cats, jackrabbits, porcupines, raccoons and striped skunks as predators, and permits killing them throughout the state.

“You could pull a wolf apart with horses in 85 percent of the state,” explains Amaroq Weiss, Senior Wolf Advocate at the Center for Biological Diversity. In the predator zone, there is no regulation governing how or when wolves can be killed. This stands in contrast to typical hunting regulations in any other state, where what are called “methods of take” are carefully defined to ensure animals are killed in ethical, humane ways, along with precise dates, to-the-minute guidelines on legal shooting hours, and generally universal bans on artificial light sources. The age and sex of animals it’s permissible to shoot are also written in law. But none of that is true in Wyoming’s predator zone when it comes to wolves. You don’t even need a hunting license or tag to kill one, just the opportunity.

Weiss cites “wolf whacking” as an example, and it’s how Roberts captured the wolf he would go on to torture and kill. The term describes using a snowmobile to run a wolf to the point of exhaustion. Once it slows or collapses, you kill the animal by running it over. As Roberts’ escapade demonstrates, sometimes that might take multiple impacts, and sometimes the animal is simply left to die a slow, painful death.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for systems and headmates who are pet regressors!

Like age regressors, many folks may pet regress for a wide variety of reasons! Whether you, your system, or your headmates pet regress as a coping mechanism, trauma response, just for fun, or anything else, it's important to remember that you are a welcome and important part of the plural community just the way you are! So here's to all the plural pet regressors out there!

🐸 Shoutout to pet regressors who enjoy being regressed and spend a significant amount of their time regressed!

🐭 Shoutout to pet regressors whose animal identities are lesser known or uncommon pets like reptiles, birds, ungulates, or rodents!

🐱 Shoutout to pet regressors whose regression is closely tied to being otherkin, or whose pet regression aligns with their kintypes!

🐴 Shoutout to pet regressors who need help taking care of themselves when regressed, and to those who can easily care for themselves while regressed!

🐹 Shoutout to pet regressors who regress as a trauma response or a coping mechanism!

🐮 Shoutout to pet regressors who are new to regression or are just starting to get involved in pet regression!

🐶 Shoutout to pet regressors who use or want things like collars, leashes, harnesses, chew toys, grooming brushes and tools, (human-friendly) food and treats, pet beds, and other pet supplies while regressed!

🐰 Shoutout to pet regressors who educate others on pet regression, or help advocate for pet regression’s SFW nature!

🦊 Shoutout to headmates who are caregivers to other members of their system who regress, and to systems who are caregivers to others in their lives who pet regress!

🦄 Shoutout to disabled pet regressors whose regression is influenced by chronic pain, fatigue, or illness, who are unable to act in ways that are common yet physically demanding while regressed!

🐺 Shoutout to pet regressors who identify as pet regressors even if their regressed animal identity is a wild animal or would not be fitting for a pet!

🐯 Shoutout to pet regressors who can't control when they regress, and who rely on help from others when they regress involuntarily!

🐻 Shoutout to covert pet regressors who may seem and act normal or inconspicuous while regressed!

Pet regression can influence anyone, and there is no one right or proper way to be a pet regressor! Pet regression can look incredibly different from system to system, and even from headmate to headmate. Regardless of what pet regression looks like for you and your system, know that there is nothing wrong with regressing to cope or just for fun. You're allowed to express yourself and explore your identity however you wish, and pet regression is nothing to be worried or ashamed of! We truly hope you can enjoy and make the most of your time spent regressed. Thanks so much for reading, and take care!

(Image ID:) A pale orange userbox with a cluster of multicolored flowers for the userbox image. The border and text are both dark orange, and the text reads “all plurals can interact with this post!” (End ID.)

[thedaemonarchivist]

Could I request a tiger analysis please?

The TIGER (Panthera tigris) is the largest living cat species native to Asia. Largely solitary, tigers are tough, resilient, and steady, somewhat habitual and remarkably stubborn. Tigers are highly adaptable and resourceful despite largely living in forest habitats and occupying home ranges: they are powerful swimmers and capable climbers (though less so than many other cats due to their size). The tiger is an apex predator which preys mainly on ungulates such as deer and wild boar, which it takes by ambush: these cats are patient, methodical and practical, but obsessive, dedicated and highly devoted. Distinctive black or dark brown stripes mark the tiger's fur; this feature is advantageous for camouflage in vegetation with vertical patterns of light and shade, such as trees, reeds and tall grass: tigers are calm and relaxed, but bold, and likely manipulative. Tigers are normally silent but can produce a wide range of vocalisations, including growling, snarling and hissing. In friendlier encounters, tigers will prusten, a soft, low-frequency snorting sound similar to purring. Tigers also communicate through their tails and ears, facial expressions, scent marking and bunting, or rubbing against each other's bodies: these cats are remarkably expressive, communicative and playful. Tigers are independent with loose ties, confident and self-assured, sensitive and perceptive, likely courageous and opinionated, but tactful, prudent and not particularly bullying or hostile.

The SNOW-WHITE TIGER is a colour morph with extremely faint stripes and a pale sepia-brown ringed tail: these cats are more avoidant, solitary and likely guarded.

The WHITE TIGER is a colour morph with a white coat and sepia-brown stripes. These cats are bolder, highly spirited and likely more confident.

The GOLDEN TIGER is a colour morph with pale golden fur and reddish-brown stripes: these cats are likely more calm, relaxed, patient and highly indulgent.

[animelovelover123]

DMC: Family Pet AU – Habits Die Hard (part 1/2)

Link to Master List [Links to other parts can be found in master list.]

Set-Up

Growing up in your colony where any of your people could be, and were, snatched up any moment to serve a family, you were taught from birth what to expect when you were eventually taken. How to please, how to survive, and how to ride out any possible abuse. The latter two things were of no use to you though as the Sparda family took exceptional care of you and would not inflict serious punishment past a stern talking to. But for the first year, you couldn’t quite shake off your colony’s warnings and teachings, some being cute, some being bad, some being sad.

V

You shift uncomfortably atop the cold wood flooring of the dilapidated house. It was one of many abandoned homes in this city but this one had most of its walls intact, blocking out much of the cold night breeze, so you had decided to sleep there for the night. Not that the wind didn’t pass through, creaking the decaying structure around you and making your body shudder, but this was your best option right now. So, you curled up further on the hard floor, the furniture in the house being either wholly destroyed or still damp from the rain last week so they were even less comfortable, and tried to fall asleep.

Then, slow, quiet, yet still heavy footsteps moving outside of the building catch your attention. You raise your head from your bent knees and are met with the glowing purple eye of Nightmare looking at you through one of the building windows. It watches you, unmoving, as the goopy consistency of its body ungulates as if it were thinking. As you two stare each other down, you hear a set of footsteps, lighter and faster than Nightmare’s, approaching the building. Then you hear the broken door of the building being pushed open and your name being called.

“V?” You call back, recognizing his smooth voice, though it had called your name with a bit more alarm than his usual calm demeanour would allow. V followed the sound of your voice to the room you were in.

“There you are.” V turned into the room, his worried expression softening upon seeing you but quickly turning back into concern as he looked down at your shivering form. “I have been looking for you, my little wanderer.” V’s hair turned from white to black as he called Nightmare back. His tattoos also darkened, showing that he had called back Griffon and Shadow as well. V must have been using his familiars to search for you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to sleep.” You reply plainly as V walks up to you.

“But why here?” V reached his arm out to you. “Come songbird, let us return to Nico’s van where it is warm.” V puts on a calm smile, though he was still a bit shaken from having awoken in the middle of the night to find you gone.

“I can’t.” You answer, only glancing at the hand held out to you. “I’m just the Pet, I can’t sleep in the home unless I’m told to.” Your colony had taught you such. Although, past aunties had conflicting stories, with some demon families seeming more open to letting their Pet sleep within the family home while others outright forbid it. You had not been given direct instructions though, so this was the safest option.

“Well, you have my permission.” V reached his hand forward further, practically begging you to take it. But when you refuse, he lets out a defeated yet understanding sigh. “But that is not enough, is it?” It was Nico’s van; V didn’t exactly have the right to say who could and could not sleep in it. Though he was sure she would welcome you wholeheartedly if she was awake. “I won't force you.” V then got down beside you. “But if you could allow me this one thing,” He then called forth Shadow as he laid your head atop his shoulder. Shadow flopped her large, warm body over you two like a purring blanket. “please let me at least keep you warm for the night.”

Nico

(The morning after V's story.)

Nico sat on one of the steps leading into her van as she flicks the butt of her cigarette to the pavement, stomps it out, and kicks it to join the other 11. Her eyes scan the area, back and forth, as she pulls out another one. She had been high-strung all morning despite how desperately she tried to hide it behind her usual sassy attitude. The last she saw of you was the night before. When she fell asleep you were outside with Nero so she assumed you were safe. When she woke up an hour ago though you were nowhere to be found and Nero claimed you were awake when he went to bed. She just about snapped Nero’s newly returned arm for not making sure you were put to bed, as he was the last to be awake with you.

V was also gone but he had a habit of disappearing and she knew he had his animals to defend himself. You though, you were like a defenseless little puppy. And, as far as she knew, V fell asleep before her and you disappeared after she herself passed out, so you two were probably not together. At least if you and he were together you had protection, but if you were alone…!

Thankfully that last part was proven wrong when you and V returned hand in hand.

“Sweetpea!” Nico tossed the freshly lit cigarette aside to instead practically tackle you in a hug. “Where in the hell have you been?” Nico backed up enough to look at, and cup, your face. “You damn near gave me a heart attack, not botherin’ to leave word on where you were goin’.” She glances between you and V. “If y’all wanted to shag in some ally, you coulda left a note or somethin’.” She flashes a glare at V to show that she blames him for the lack of consideration she assumed had happened.

“We did not run off together.” V defended, his expression stoic, unaffected by Nico’s debaucherous accusation. “I woke up much the same as you, fraught with concern over our missing Pet.” V used his cane to tap the ground near the pile of cigarette butts left by Nico, indicating that he knew how worked up she got over your disappearance. “I found our little wonderer alone in an abandoned building trying to sleep.”

“What!?” Nico turns back to you, her expression a mix of confusion, concern, and pity. “Why would you hold up in a shack like that?”

“I wasn’t given permission to sleep in your van.” You explain.

"Permission? Sugar, you don’t need permission for somethin’ like that.” With a chuckle, she squishes your cheeks a bit and shakes your head like you would a chubby-cheeked pet animal. “And you know what? In the van is the best bed especially for you. It’s called my lap.”

Nero

“Food’s ready!” Nero announced from his spot in front of the barbeque, placing the last of the cooked skewers atop the already impressive pile.

“Finally!” Nico sighed dramatically as she stood up from where she had been sitting in the grass with you, Kyrie, Credo, V, Griffon, and Shadow. “I didn’t think you would be so bad at this.” She said, making a hand motion towards the garbage can that held the smouldering remains of obliterated skewers.

“I’m not bad at this, it’s your stupid grill. Who puts a goddamn turbo mode on a grill?” As Nero and Nico bicker about how practical a grill that shoots out a pillar of fire every so often is, the other humanoid family members rise from the grassy ground and make their way to the picnic table. Except for you.

You were just the family Pet. You were nowhere near important enough to eat at the family table, at least that is what your colony had taught you. And so, you stood back, stayed where you were along with Shadow who only raised her head.

“Hey, don’t forget us deadweight.” Griffon cawed, jumping off a nearby bush to glide around Nero.

“Ya ya,” Nero waved off, in too good of a mood to get grumpy over the insulting nickname right now. As his family (the ones that were present at least) gathered at the picnic table and began to eat the skewers he had spent literal hours putting together, along with the other sides that were made and brought to this potluck, Nero stepped back into the house. He quickly returned with a bowl and bag in hand. Griffon landed on the ground in front of Nero excitedly and Shadow jumped to her feet beside you, ear twitching as she sniffed the air. “I may have been saving these for you guys.” Nero said, fighting down his blush. Even if he bickered with V’s familiars, he had come to like them quite a bit. He handed Griffon a bowl of seeds and berries, both demonic and human breeds, who cawed excitedly, wings flapping but not taking off. Griffon carefully took the bowel into his beak, easily holding it with his multiple lower jaws, and toddled over to the picnic table to eat with the rest of the family. Nero then opened the bag and pulled out a rather large demon leg bone with much of its meat still hanging on. He threw it towards Shadow who caught it easily, quickly trotting off to teeth at it in the shade of a tree.

Then Nero looked at you, now standing alone. You watched Nero expectantly, waiting for whatever food he decided to gift you with.

“What are you doing over there?” He said with a playful smile before motioning you towards the picnic table where the family was enjoying their lunch. “Come on, it’s food time.”

“Ah! But…” Your eyes drift to your family that were too busy eating and chatting to notice the worry in your eyes. Nero saw though, and it left him with a sinking feeling in his heart. “I’m just the Pet.” Your colony had taught you that your role was that of a servant, nothing more. You would take what food was handed to you gratefully and stay out of the way.

“That’s not true.” Nero cut off your reminiscing with a happy voice that held sprinkles of pity and seriousness. “You’re not just a Pet, your family too.” Nero approached you and gently grabbed your hand. “Now come on, I want you to sit beside me.”

Sparda

You can hear Sparda’s breath start to regain its regular rhythm as he calms down from his high. You turn your head to look at him, able to see his blissed smile fade into one of peace despite the low light in the room from the dwindling fireplace. Even though you lay side by side atop his bed, you can still feel the lingering warmth of his lips that travelled the expanse of your body not too long ago. You can feel the remaining pleasant ache in your lower back and core. You can still feel the fluttering in your chest at how sweetly he had smiled down at you and showered you in compliments and praises. But then you remember the warnings of past aunties from your colony, how a Pet’s job was to have sex and then get out of the way once used.

As carefully as you can, trying not to disturb Sparda, you start to slip out from under the blanket. You are able to swing your feet off the side of the bed and onto the plush rug under it before you feel a tug at your hand.

“Where are you off to Pet?” Sparda asked, his voice deeper with tiredness and relaxation. He didn’t sound angry or demanding, instead gentle and concerned.

“We are done, aren’t we?” You ask. Did Sparda want another round?

“Ah… yes, I suppose we are.” He said, eyes wandering to the bed sheets below him as he took on a look of disappointment. His eyes drift back to you though and his hand gently squeezes yours. “But that doesn’t mean you have to leave.” He tugs on your hand gently, a welcoming smile on his face. “Come, rest with me, you must be tried.” You let yourself be pulled back towards Sparda who sits up to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your bare chests together. “I wish to hold you longer, to sleep with you in my arms… if that is alright with you.”

Eva

(Immediately following Sparda’s story)

The warm, welcoming feeling of Sparda’s embrace as he insists you sleep the night with him is suddenly washed away by the sound of the bedroom door opening.

“Oh.” Eva takes in a little gasp. Despite her subdued reaction, your brain goes into a full-on panic when you realize the situation you are in. You were naked, in bed, wrapped in the embrace of the family leader when his WIFE had walked in. Even though this was your job as the family Pet, this was the kind of situation that got a lot of your people killed by jealous and territorial mates.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You cry, scrambling out of Sparda’s arms. In unbridled fear, you throw yourself off of the bed and onto your knees before Eva who jumps back a bit at your sudden actions. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You babble almost incoherently through oncoming tears. Your begging comes to a stop though when a gentle hand cards its fingers through your hair.

“It’s alright dear.” Came Eva’s calm, sweet, motherly voice. “There is no need for you to apologize.”

“B-but…” You stammer, keeping your head down until you feel Eve tug gently at your arms.

“You were just doing your job dear, I know that.” Eva leads you to your feet, smiling sadly at your tear-stained face. “There is nothing for you to fear sweetheart.” She gently wipes your tears away with her thumbs then places a chaste kiss atop your pouting lips. “Now then,” She turns you back towards the bed where Sparda still sat, waiting patiently with a gentle smile of his own. “I think we could all use some rest.” Sparda pulls back the covers as Eva leads you back towards the bed so all three of you may sleep in each other’s embrace.

Credo

“Do you understand the danger you put everyone in?” Credo asked, patience hanging on by a thread at this point as he sat glaring up at the small group of new recruits, two teen girls and one teen boy huddled together on the other side of his desk. You stood off to the side, your panic rising as the tension in the room grew despite not being part of the conversation.

“We just wanted to have some fun.” One of the teen girls argues back, hand on her hip and glare on her face, being the most confident compared to her friends standing close behind her. The two friend’s stances were tall and formal like they had been taught to stand as a knight of The Order, but their forced stoic expressions had long since broken in shame.

“Your missions are not the time to have fun.” Credo pointed out sternly, clearly annoyed but focusing his frustration on the one teen continuing to be petulant rather than the two in the back who listened and clearly regretted their actions. “As knights of The Order, your duties are to watch over and protect the people of Fortuna, not disturb a demon nest for entertainment.”

The cold tone of one of your family members set an alarm off in your brain, one that flashed with memories of other Pets from your colony being beaten and broken by their angry demon family. Whether what brought on the anger of the demon was due to the Pet’s actions or not was often inconsequential to whether they would receive dealings or not.

“Oh come on.” The teen girl rolled her eyes disrespectfully. “No one actually believes in The Order’s prissy values.”

Credo slammed his hands on the desk as he stood up, his patience snapping at the teen’s disregard for the morals and values he, as the captain of the Holly Knights, believed in wholeheartedly. This anger, though not directed at you in the slightest, shot you into a fight or flight response and you ran from his office. You could hear Credo call out to you but that only made your panicked mind frantic. You find a small linen closet down the hall and hide inside. You cower in amongst the clean sheets and spare blankets as you carefully listen for any sounds that could mean you are being hunted.

After a few minutes of just hearing people walk by casually, giving you a bit of time to breathe, you hear Credo’s voice. It was back to his calm, serious tone, with a hint of concern as he called for you and asked people in the halls if they had seen you. It doesn’t take long for him to locate you. For a moment your racing heart makes you grab hold of the doorknob to stop Credo from opening it, but he didn’t even try. Instead, he knocks on the closet door lightly, calling your name. “I know you are in there.” He could hear your nervous, dog-like whining through the door. “Are you alright?” He waits for you to respond, but when you don’t, he sighs. It wasn’t a sigh of frustration. It was one of acceptance. “I won’t force you to come out, but know that my anger was not at all directed at you.” He places a hand on the door separating you two. “I will leave you to recuperate at your own pace. I will be back in my office; my door will be open for you if you feel comfortable to return.” He truly hoped you would, but he would not burden you with his desire when you were the one in distress. However, he could not stop his lips from curling up into a pleased smile when you opened the closet door for him.

[celesse]

I 💖 reindeer 🔔🦌🎀

[themculibrary]

Blood/Gore Masterlist

And I Am Always with You (ao3) - Lauralot T, 90k

Summary: He tries to reach out to Steve, but he can’t feel his arm. It’s too cold. Everything is cold save for his blood and Steve’s smile.

Long after Bucky forgets his own name, he remembers "Steve."

Broken Wings, and Fallen Idols (ao3) - AlexTheShipper bucky/tony T, 13k

Summary: Your wings are an expression of your soul, and Tony Stark’s wings once white and beautiful are scarred and bloody. Betrayal after betrayal, heart break after heart break.

Casualty of war (ao3) - wolfypuppypiles M, 22k

Summary: Peter got knocked down in Civil War, but when Tony went to check on the baby Avenger, he realized he was more badly hurt than first realized.

There wasn't meant to be any casualties, but there always is in war.

Fighting And Helplessness (ao3) - Agib E, 126k

Summary: Peter hummed audibly at the pleasant memory of his Dad, and ouch, he missed him already. How long had he been here now? Where was here? How long would he be alone, without his Dad, without the feeling of home and safe and warm. Peter needed to think, needed to take note of anything and everything he could. He was a Stark and he could get out of this if he just used his head.

Or...

Peter is kidnapped and Tony just wants, no, needs, to find his kid.

Go Ugly Early (ao3) - just_another_tinker steve/tony, clint/phil, bucky/natasha E, 252k

Summary: He’s The Captain?

This was not good. This was so not good.

There were theories of course, of what The Captain would look like. Most followed the typical Hollywoodesque belief that he was some version of the Godfather, sitting in a dark room with a cigar, commanding his forces with a flick of his wrist. There were even some that even thought that The Captain was not one person, but a whole network of people with eyes and ears everywhere.

The blonde Adonis in front of him was definitely not what Tony was expecting.

Of course, in the end it didn’t matter.

There was a reason no one knew what The Captain looked like.

Because anyone who saw his face never lived to tell the tale.

look closer (c l o s e r) (ao3) - GalaxyThreads T, 23k

Summary: "Tony wants to scream.

He wants to yell and shout and rip apart these non-teachers, demanding to know what happened, who hurt his kid, what the heck is going on. How this stupid field trip turned into a nightmare from hell and Peter is bleeding and scared and Tony doesn’t know what to do. How to fix this."

AKA: the field trip to SI from hell, because it's not a good thing an entire high school knows Peter (allegedly) works at SI. (one shot, gen)

manage me (i'm a mess) (ao3) - technically_direct eddie/venom E, 131k

Summary: The thing about Eddie, right, is that he's kinda an enormous fuckup. And it's starting to catch up to him a bit.

For real, the BEST thing to happen in those six months after he and Anne broke up was getting an alien parasite, and that was accounting for the whole 'it was eating his organs' thing.

Persistence Hunting (ao3) - grocketinmypocket M, 6k

Summary: "You need food, Rocket. Worse than me. A hell of a lot worse than me, and I'm worried about you. We have water, neither of us are hurt, but both of us will die eventually if we don't eat. And I can hunt down one of those," he said, pointing off into the distance at a four-legged ungulate of some kind, grazing on the tough grass.

"Neither of us have any weapons, genius. You're gonna just run up to it and crack it on the head with a rock?"

"No," Peter said. "I'm gonna run it down and slit its throat."

Screw Them, I Love You (ao3) - Silvergray1358 peter/wade E, 23k

Summary: When Peter Parker reveals his identity to Deadpool, both men struggle to work around this new dynamic. It doesn't help that the Tin Man known as Iron Man is sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong, thank you very much.

Slow burn, eventual smut, chivalry, manly tears, and a little bit of hot sauce.

Stem (ao3) - IamShadow21 steve/bucky T, 7k

Summary: Bucky Barnes discovers sugar, demands coffee, makes a variety of involuntary noises, cuddles up to Steve Rogers, regrows a limb, and fakes it 'til he makes it at being a person.

The Addicting Kind of Love (ao3) - Nimiamlove (orphan_account) bucky/steve/tony M, 10k

Summary: ...Tony wasn’t surprised when he entered the communal floor and saw his boyfriend making out with the best friend... but didn't mean it hurt less.

~*~

“Buck, what have we done?!” The blond asked alarmed and tears started to pool on his eyes. “I can’t lose him, I love him Buck”

“I know” the brunet answered “I love him too; we will fix this, come on”

The Influence of the Earth (ao3) - bluesyturtle T, 131k

Summary: “Why are you in my city?”

“Way I hear it, it was my city first,” he answers coyly with the smallest shrug.

After the near-disaster with the Insight Helicarriers, the Winter Soldier flees D.C. and heads for Brooklyn seeking familiar ground--or what would have been familiar ground to Bucky Barnes. Trouble follows him to New York in spite of his good intentions, but he's soon joined by a team of extraordinary people who all want to see him free. They work together to tear down a weakened but extant organization in the hopes that he won't be torn apart with it.

The Sky's The Limit (ao3) - CoopPenny bucky/tony M, 88k

Summary: Tony's held a great secret since Afghanistan and he intends to keep it till the day he dies but it gets increasingly harder when your forced to live with spies and super soldiers. Especially with Natasha popping out of practically no where asking dozens of questions about his Three YEARS in the Ten Rings clutches.

Threads, Celestial and All-Knowing (ao3) - xottan loki/tony E, 115k

Summary: Tony Stark was a man, born on earth and mortal. Anto Havrson, however, was the God of War and Innovation, the Second General of Asgard and Prince Consort.

The world did not know, of course. How could they? Tony Stark was an icon, a hero, a man of great power. Who would ever imagine he was a God trapped within mortal flesh, forty years living on Earth without his family, without the object of his devotion? That is, until Loki appears suddenly one day and the Norns themselves decide to intervene.

A tale of grief, prophecies and obscure futures, but most of all... A tale of great love.

T.O.N.Y. (ao3) - HeroofProcrastination steve/tony T, 60k

Summary: After Civil War, things weren't okay; Rhodey paralyzed, the Avengers split, and he was all alone. It was time to right the wrongs and Tony knew he had to do it. He'd run the numbers and did all the tests, there was only one way to fix all of his mistakes; to keep the Avengers together and to stop the Civil War altogether. Iron Man had to be taken out of the equation. And Tony knew just the Doctor who could help him pull it off.

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep (ao3) - Mizzy steve/tony E, 23k

Summary: Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

Who Has Known Heights (ao3) - MountainRose, szzzt steve/tony E, 72k

Summary: Before his injury, Tony had been a fast, intuitive flier: agile in the air, as those of his wingshape usually were, able to tumble and swoop and then trade back the speed for lift, and always get the best of the bargain.

That was how he referred to it; not ‘abduction’ or 'captivity’ or 'maiming’ but injury, the most neutral word possible. Though Steve had never, not once heard him call it an accident.

Worry Knot (ao3) - Shi_Toyu bucky/loki/tony E, 26k

Summary: Tony, James, and Loki go on a little trip.

[heavenlyhoundoom]

I made a cuphead au where every character's different in some way called Mughead au.

Cuphead and Mugman personalities swap and they wear the opposite colors of what they normally wear.(Cupman wears green and Mughead wears orange)

Elder Kettle and MS.Chalice switch roles.(Elder Chalice and Mr.Kettle)

The Devil and King Dice also switch roles. King Dice is now King Demon and Devil is now Dice's right hand goat named Darrell.

Isle 1

The Root Pack is now The Fruit pack with Sal being a pear, Ollie being an apple, and Chauncey being a banana.

Goopy Le Grande is now Rolly Le Rock and is a rock that does a lot of rolling instead of bouncing as his name suggests.

Ribby and Croaks are now toads who fight using magic instead of muscle.

Cagney Carnation is now Cagney Cactus.

Hilda Berg is a mermaid instead of Cala Maria.

Isle 2

Esther is the princess of the ungulate(hooved animal) kingdom.

Djimmi the great is a strongman who fights with muscle rather than magic.

Beppi is a mime who is depressed.

Wally Warbles is now a bat living in a bat house named Eddie Echoes.

Grim Matchstick is an alicorn named Gleam Magic.

Isle 3

Sally Stageplay and her husband switch roles.

The Phantom Express is now The Festive Express and goes from being Halloween themed to being Christmas themed.

Rumor Honeybottoms is now the termite queen, Rumor Woodenbottom.

Captain Brineybeard is now an astronaut instead of a pirate.

Calamity Maria is now an alien instead of a mermaid.

Dr.Kahl and Werner Werman switch species.

Isle 4

Chef Saltbaker is now Chef Pepperbaker.

Glumstone is a small troll, he has giant gnome friends, and The Ulcer is now The Booger as you end up in the gnome's nose instead.

The Howling Aces are a bunch of cats called The Meowing Aces.

The Moonshine Mob are the cops and the ant cops are the mobsters now, and the mob ants have a giant chameleon instead.

Bonbon is a candy outlaw turned sheriff.

Mortimer Freeze is now a fire wizard named Mortimer Burn.

King's leap are know just checker pieces.

[loftylockjaw]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Covet Couture / Kieran’s apartment PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Kieran (@debauchfairy) SUMMARY: Wyatt gets another distress text, this time from Kieran. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very slight wrspice near the end (b/c of course) but nothing explicit!

—

Trust was a funny thing. Kieran didn’t trust Wyatt, much like he didn’t trust any other person, but it was based on some very simple logic. People were self-serving, himself included, so trust was always a foolish endeavor. At least when it came to simply putting your trust in someone. Kieran trusted that Wyatt still fancied having him around, trusted that the shifter had no longing nor reason to rat him out to a warden. Yes, Kieran could put his trust in want and that was about all the safety he was going to get. 

Especially when the choice was between getting some help from the shifter or waiting here for fuck knows how long until he had the strength to force his glamor back up. 

His ears perked at the sound of a car outside, discomfort with the situation adding onto the quite hefty physical discomfort. Maybe this had been the wrong call, even though just turning his head to move his gaze towards the back door made his head throb, which in turn forced a sharp inhale followed by a sharper pain in his ribs. Kieran wasn’t used to too much physical pain, barring a right hook or two from angry club goers, a single hit usually dampened by alcohol, or a somewhat close call with a warden. This was… new. In a bad way. 

“Now you’re finally in on my private joke of predator versus prey,” Kieran greeted once the door had opened and shut, having resigned himself to looking at the opposite wall instead of straining his neck. Not because he didn’t care to see which emotions would flash across Wyatt’s face, that was irrelevant. His dislike for this scenario grew with every passing second, the shift of a power dynamic so visually obvious even without the blood starting to dry on his face. Hunkered down on the floor, with what was technically his true form on full display, Kieran couldn’t wait for this moment to be over. 

—

If you’re free, could use a hand at Covet Couture. Not a come on. Bring your car. 

If he had a nickel for every time he got a distress text from someone in his life he wouldn’t be a rich man, but he’d have an annoying number of nickels to deal with. Still, there was no complaint from him as he did what was asked, driving himself to the store he knew Kieran worked at, checking his phone again to see another text telling him where and how to access the staff entrance. Following the instructions provided, it was only another minute before he was stepping into the boutique, and his eyes quickly started to scan the dark for Kieran. His heat signature was easy enough to find, and as Wyatt approached, his poor condition was made even more apparent. Slumped against the wall, staring straight ahead and cracking a joke about—oh. Oh. The deer legs (those were deer legs, right?) were unexpected. As were the horns. As was… well, all of it, really. Of course Wyatt had known Kieran wasn’t human, or that he was at least some kind of advanced human, but this was a pretty far jump from that. Was he a shifter, too? God, there were too many fuckin’ kinds of shifters in this town. 

Squatting down to where Kieran sat, Wyatt didn’t miss a beat. He started to look the other over, making sure there were no wounds that needed immediate attention before slipping an arm around his torso and the other beneath his… ungulate thighs, lifting him into a bride's carry. “Funny joke,” he said without a lick of humor in his tone, carrying Kieran back the way he’d come. “Get you in the car, then come back n’ lock up. There anything you need from in here?”

—

There was no way of avoiding Wyatt’s gaze once he reached his side, Kieran’s eyes searching the usually quite readable face for any cues. His expression was annoyingly blank, guarded even, and Wyatt had no questions or witty comments. Only a dry reply in a tone he hadn’t yet heard from the shifter. The bridal carry felt like overkill but judging by how Kieran tried (and failed) to suppress a wince at just that, probably a good thing. It would heal, faster than for a normal human even, but at this point the pain was forcing a vulnerability that made his insides feel icky. So of course directing the focus onto Wyatt was the obvious solution. “What, this not how you expected to be spending your evening?” he quipped, hoping to incite any sort of reaction. 

Kieran started to shake his head at the question, immediately registering that as a bad idea, hissing at the way his neck protested the movement. “No,” he bit out, letting himself get discarded in the car with a sigh of resignation. Any witty comment about his pride or his human disguise felt like it would be wasted on Wyatt at this point and honestly, it felt like a bit too much effort with the way his head was throbbing. Once the car started up, Kieran found himself unable to keep quiet, projecting his own pathological curiosity onto Wyatt. “You’re seriously not going to ask?”

—

“No, actually, I was just settling down to a liver dinner with some fava beans and a nice chianti,” Wyatt responded with a smirk, recognizing Kieran’s second attempt at deflecting with humor and deciding to, well, humor him. It didn't change the way his stomach was in knots seeing Kieran so battered and bruised, but he could at least fake it. For Kieran’s sake. 

With the store locked up safely, Wyatt returned to the car and climbed into the driver's seat, giving Kieran another sideways glance to make sure he was okay (relatively) before starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. “Ask what? About what happened, or… what's with the legs?” He gave a breathy laugh, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove the now-familiar route to Kieran’s apartment. “I ain't in the habit of askin’ questions, cher. But if you want me to… let's start with who did this?”

—

Finally seeing an actual expression move over Wyatt’s face did wonders to loosen the discomfort in Kieran’s chest which had nothing to do with cracked ribs. Not that any further introspection would be performed, the faun simply happy to have brushed off further pesky feelings that in no way contributed to the general direction of fun, easy and seductive he tended to roll in. Brief fear for his life at the hands of a hunter was already plenty of off-roading for one evening. “One of those sounds divine,” he replied, thoughts flitting ahead to which bottle of alcohol would be opened once he got back to the apartment. 

Rolling his eyes at the soft laugh, something that also hurt apparently, Kieran turned his head carefully to regard Wyatt’s profile - trying his best not to cause any antler related damage. It couldn’t be that the shifter minded, being far from human himself and having been aware that Kieran wasn’t either. Not something he tended to overthink and wasn’t about to start now, just… overflow unease, too aware that his ability for hypnosis, his essence, was useless in this state. “Want is pushing it,” Kieran huffed but still wondered how much to share with Wyatt. Just because he did ask didn’t mean all the answers would be provided, no details spared. But he had showed up, seemed like he was owed something in return. “Just figured someone smart might have used this opportunity to gather information.” Smart, manipulative, distrusting… “Hunter. One for the undead, mind you. Turns out he wasn’t… as fond of my little party trick as say, you.” 

He didn’t have any reason to suspect Emilio would be back. The message felt properly received, in every bruise and cut and pained inhale. Knowing the slayer’s name did raise an interesting thought however, made Kieran wonder if Wyatt could be persuaded into tracking down a particular meal. If the faun asked very nicely. Lucky for Emilio, at this point it felt like more effort than it was worth so Kieran sighed (which also fucking hurt) and added, “don’t think he’s coming back.” He didn’t add that the slayer could have easily ended him if he’d chosen to - admitting that outloud was a bigger blow to Kieran’s ego than it could handle tonight. 

—

“Well, I never claimed to be smart,” Wyatt countered, meaning it more than he'd probably admit to if pressed. Jokes were one thing, but actually confronting the fact that he had a tendency to do stupid things, never learned his lessons, and constantly let his emotions get the better of him… he'd sooner eat someone than let them call him out like that. 

Wyatt’s expression darkened, though he tried not to let it show. He knew a few slayers, one of which was certainly still skulking around town. But there was probably a lot more than just him, so it'd be no use jumping to conclusions. “You oughtta be more careful,” he warned Kieran, ever the hypocrite. It was useless anyway, Wicked’s Rest didn't give a shit how careful you were—it'd chew you up and spit you back out regardless. The lamia sighed, turning onto another street. “Okay, but if he tries to fuck with you again, tell me. You never know with these clowns.” 

His curiosity was climbing, despite his insistence that he didn't care. Eyes jumped quickly to the antlers on Kieran’s head, and the shifter bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before speaking again. “Fine, I'll bite… what, uh… what flavor of weird are you, exactly? And what is that party trick of yours that I like so much?”

—

Kieran huffed in amusement and instantly regretted it, each and every sore spot complaining. No, maybe Wyatt wasn’t the smartest but his head wasn’t just filled with air, either. The amount of time he willingly subjected himself to the influence of a faun, plus his career, that made him out to be more of a fool rather than an idiot. An important distinction. It definitely worked in Kieran’s favor and as far as he was concerned, the shifter was smart in ways that mattered. Not exactly like Kieran had been privy to a formal education like every other human but he was wily, a much more valuable skill than just ‘being smart’. A skill he thought he recognized in Wyatt, too. “Sure are pretty, though,” Kieran played along, cursing the slayer because his face hurt too bad for an accompanying wink. 

What Kieran could only construe as a deep dislike for hunters swept over Wyatt’s face, a valid emotion. The half-warning, half-command however… “Oh honey, please stop making me laugh, it hurts like a bitch.” Be more careful. Please. No fun had ever been had by being careful. He’d stay away from Emilio at all costs, that much was certain but deep down, Kieran knew that this encounter wouldn’t stop him from antagonizing dangerous people in the future. It was instinctual at this point. Wyatt’s expression was once again unreadable as he offered assistance in case of a next time and Kieran’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he gave a noncommittal hum of agreement. Sure, he could let the lamia chow down a hunter for him if it came down to it. A win-win, nothing more to it. 

Kieran let his eyes drift closed for a moment, since one of them seemed adamant on trying to swell shut anyway, a soft smile the only confirmation that he’d heard the hesitant question. “Knew you were curious,” he murmured, wondering how much Wyatt knew about fae and how much Kieran felt like divulging now. “Fae flavored,” he started, cracking open his good eye to gauge the shifter’s reaction. “Faun, to be exact. We… thrive on euphoria so only makes sense that we can influence it. Well, it’s more of a carelessness that we inspire, really.” Wyatt didn’t need to know the details or hear words like ‘feeding’ or ‘hypnosis’. Even though Kieran doubted the man would care, too hooked on the high that only someone like Kieran could deliver. 

—

Of course Kieran brushed off the warning like it was nothing, because really, it wasn’t worth anything… especially not coming from him. But he’d felt compelled to say it anyway, and lacked the level of introspection required to dissect the exact reason why he’d been compelled to say it, so he just shrugged. Kieran was an adult and would do as he pleased, it wasn’t Wyatt’s concern. Except for when it involved him playing chauffeur, apparently. Maybe even playing nurse, once they got back to Kieran’s place. That’d be ground over which he’d lightly tread.

Fae flavored. Okay, so… great. Like Leo, then. But not, because Wyatt was almost certain that if Leo had this euphoric inducing ability, he’d be using it left and right. No, Leo was some other kind of fae. Faun, though… that sounded fun. Or it was fun, Wyatt knew from first hand experience, and where was the downside? So Kieran inspired carelessness. Freedom from the weight of responsibility and the self-imposed shackles that tied Wyatt down each and every day. Hell, he’d learned a few things about himself while under that influence, and he didn’t hate those things. “Sounds like you’ve got a pretty sweet deal, then,” he replied. Sounded like everyone ought to have their own faun, if this is what they were capable of. 

Arriving outside Kieran’s apartment not long after, Wyatt parked as close as he could and once again made sure to carefully gather him from the passenger seat, knocking the door shut with his hip before marching them up to the stoop. “Here. Hooves down,” he chuckled, gently depositing Kieran’s feet on the ground, glancing around once more to make sure no one was around. “Grab your keys.”

—

There was no obvious hesitation or disgust that Kieran could easily pick up on but he was trying to read the man’s expression from his profile, in a dark car with a concussion and one eye threatening to swell shut. Maybe Wyatt didn’t really know much about fae? He obviously didn’t know about faun and with the way the shifter didn’t particularly seem to be careful with his words… Finally, a confirmation that Wyatt, at the very least, valued Kieran’s ability over whatever he was. Not that it mattered, there were plenty of people out there to replace Wyatt if he had a change of heart - maybe not the ‘same flavor of weird’ to use the shifter’s phrasing, but certainly ones that would just as willingly get on their knees for him. One person’s opinion didn’t matter. Not really. “I’m not exactly subtle about finding myself to be a splendid specimen.” 

Living in Deersprings was a blessing, with most of the residents tucking into their sofas after dinner and staying there until their early bedtimes. The street was vacant as Wyatt scooped him up again - not strictly necessary but a hell of a lot faster than letting the faun wince and force his way on his own - and it was impressive, how careful he was. Kieran had seen him tear monstrous creatures to shreds, seen him drunk and brash and unfiltered, take it rough and give as good as he got. Correction, the gentle side was unnerving but Kieran’s head hurt too damn bad to linger on it. “Enjoy it while you can,” Kieran grumbled, opening the door and meeting blue eyes for a moment. Deciding that if Wyatt wanted to follow him inside for some incomprehensible reason, Kieran wouldn’t stop him from wasting his evening. “Just know I’m saving every jab. You’ll get yours.” Later, when he didn’t feel like a popped balloon. 

The apartment was such a sight for sore eyes, a straight beeline made for the bathroom to root around for painkillers and pointedly avoid mirrors, to the kitchen for a bottle of tequila for some better analgesia and then finally the couch to start forcing it all past the split and swollen lips. He’d deal with the dried blood of it all later. “How the fuck do you take a beating every day?” Kieran sighed, settling into the safety of his apartment, the soothing burn of the tequila. 

—

“I’m shakin’ in my boots,” Wyatt hummed, amused, as he followed Kieran into the building. He went to the hallway that led back to the bedroom while Kieran moved to the bathroom, opening a door that was likely a linen closet—bingo. Taking a hand towel out, Wyatt then headed for the kitchen and started rooting around in the fae’s freezer, shutting the door just as Kieran entered. He was paid little mind, Kieran grabbing the booze and sinking down onto the couch without a word, that is until he asked about, ah, work. Wyatt wound the towel around the ice cubes he’d gotten from the freezer, creating a makeshift icepack that he walked over to Kieran with a smirk. “Get used to it, I guess. Pain tolerance is pretty high after twenty-somethin’ years of it.” He gently set the ice pack against Kieran’s eye that was starting to swell shut, swapping out hands with him before disappearing down the hallway a second time—this time for a washcloth. That blood ought to go. 

A bowl was easy enough to find, and Wyatt filled it with cool water before dumping the washcloth in it. This was a familiar routine for him, one he could practically do in his sleep at this point. The bowl was brought over to the couch, set on the coffee table, and Wyatt perched on the cushions beside Kieran after wringing it out. He started around Kieran’s chin and lips, going as gently as he could, deeply familiar with the ache the other was experiencing and not wanting to exacerbate it. 

—

Normally, someone rummaging around his apartment would not have been met with such a cavalier attitude but this evening was full of exceptions - having someone inside the apartment without the immediate intention of taking him to bed, for one. Letting Wyatt do his thing had been the right call, the relief from the cold immediate and very welcome. The question had been hypothetical and the answer one Kieran could have predicted. The faun had no interest in getting used to this feeling, much less the one from earlier, the ice cold reality of the slayer’s threats. “You can take a pounding,” Kieran hummed in agreement, quite thankful for the distraction of being able to take cheap shots at the shifter. 

A few more decent gulps of tequila went down before Wyatt returned, adding to the haziness at the forefront of his mind. There was probably something to be said about mixing booze with a head injury but Kieran was more than human, it would be fine. He’d eyed the bowl curiously on Wyatt’s arrival, stunned into an exceedingly rare moment of silence as the cold cloth passed over his skin. Yeah, fine. He deserved as much, honestly, providing Wyatt with a break from reality the way he did, a release time and again. That line of reasoning was comforting - this really wasn’t so different to any other sort of favor Kieran usually relished in, whether it be gifts, drinks, attention or something more sensual. This was still very much the correct hierarchy of power. 

Even with the occasional jab of pain and accompanying wince or hiss, Kieran found his eyes closing, relaxing into the almost soothing motions of blood being wiped off. The booze and pain meds probably played their part as well, bringing his mind away from the pain and, with a deep inhale that now hurt considerably less than before, allowing him to shift his focus towards throwing the glamor back up. 

“You know what would really help?” Kieran murmured, pulling the ice pack away from his face, eyes opening to find Wyatt’s before he was claiming his lips. It made the cuts and bruises sting but he didn’t really mind this amount of pain. “A bit of your euphoria. Speed up the healing,” he explained, feeling more like himself now that he was no longer exposed nor vulnerable from pain. The way his head threatened to float away, that feeling he was used to. “If you don’t mind taking care of the heavy lifting.”

—

Wyatt scoffed lightly, only mildly embarrassed now that he’d worked more on coming to terms with the person he actually was versus the person he had always thought he was: he was by no means ‘all the way there’, but Mateo had already done a lot of footwork in dismantling the image Wyatt had of himself. Or of what he was supposed to be. “Yeah, well, brick houses tend to be built with that in mind,” he countered softly. 

Each wipe of the wet rag was careful, a far cry from the way he’d sometimes take one to his own face if he didn’t have the strength to stand in the shower or make his way to the lake. Wipe, dunk, wring, repeat. The water in the bowl was turning a light pink, like some sort of concoction out of a fairy tale—to match the man with deer legs and antlers that was sitting in front of him. Not wanting to make the other move his head to clean off the opposite side, Wyatt instead knelt in front of him, body pressed between those furry knees (was that even a knee anymore? he didn’t know deer anatomy) as his hands reached up for the other’s face to resume his work. 

A small smile had settled on his features as Kieran seemed to relax into the coddling, and then suddenly those legs around his waist were changing. He glanced down at them, then back up, watching the antlers dissolve, or… dematerialize right in front of him. Insane. His own shift was pretty one-to-one… things grew and stretched, or shrank and shortened until they were no longer there. This was just… well, it seemed like high magic, if he had to compare it to his own, brutish version that involved a total reconstruction of his physical form. He was mystified. 

Blinking once or twice, Wyatt dropped his gaze to Kieran’s face again just as the other was speaking, moving the ice pack away and closing the small distance between them to surprise him with a kiss. My euphoria will speed up the healing? It didn’t make sense to him, but then many things didn’t. And he’d regret it later if he didn’t help Kieran feel better as quickly as possible, so the shifter just smiled, twisted around to put the rag back in the bowl of fairy water, and stole the bottle to take a pull of the tequila. “Just tell me what I need to do,” he mumbled amenably. 

—

There was no longer any regret over the call for assistance, Wyatt proving himself more than useful in this particular scenario. It was a one off, anyway - Kieran wasn’t about to offer himself up as a punching bag on the regular. A blip, a slight detour away from the unconventionally conventional, allowing for something that was bordering dangerously close to tenderness this one time. Everything else was par for the course, including the blue eyes looking up at him and asking to be told what to do. 

Even bruised and woozy, Kieran had no trouble letting the tendrils of his influence wrap around Wyatt, even less trouble telling the other exactly what he wanted from him. He was fairly familiar with all the things that made Wyatt tick at this point, where he liked to be touched, which turn of phrase worked wonders on him - enough so that Kieran barely needed to move and risk jostling his injuries. No, he could let Wyatt’s hands do the work, meticulously guided by Kieran’s command, dark eyes drinking in the sight while he consumed every crest of pleasure. 

It did help, feeding off the shifter providing a much needed restoration of energy, but not just the actual ‘life sustaining’ part. This way made the whole evening feel more… transactional, not just a favor or something to be brought up as a bargaining chip later on. 

—

There hadn’t ever been a time when Kieran’s influence was unwelcome, but it was especially welcome tonight. Wyatt had been doing quite a good job of alienating himself while trying to ‘stand up for himself’, as he put it, when in reality it was just bullying. He was so filled to the brim with anger and hurt and desperation that he lashed out at everyone who so much as looked at him wrong, and those altercations were starting to bite back. He felt miserable, but didn’t want to show it. He felt alone, but didn’t want to acknowledge it. He felt like every last little good thing he still had in his life was dangling by a thread that was quickly unraveling, and he couldn’t face it. Some part of him was probably trying to sabotage those things, to make the inevitable end come quicker so he could get over it sooner. As if he’d be getting over anything—he still got a lump in his throat at the mention of his mother. He still got hot under the collar at the mention of his cousin, rage sparking up like a bolt of lightning starting a forest fire. He still felt unworthy, undeserving, and unlovable but god the desire for it was so strong, he couldn’t hold himself back. Instead of sparing everyone the pain to come, he kept wrapping other people up in his mess, destined to take them down with him. He’d never be satisfied, he thought. He’d be like that bolla that lived underground and slept most of its life away, only waking to partake in a ravenous, man-eating rampage. He was in his rampage era, and the next sleep might be his last, if he pissed enough people off. 

That’s why this time with Kieran was so nice, so needed. There were no strings attached here. If Wyatt went down in a blaze of glory (or of sin), Kieran would shrug it off and move onto the next. While it didn’t satisfy his desire to be loved, it did allow him to exist without guilt. That shit was freeing. So he was happy to give Kieran what he wanted, happy to listen to his instruction and provide a service he knew he was good at, internally preening in response to the praise that trickled his way between soft groans. In return, he got to feel nothing but elation for a while, and that was well fucking worth it, in his mind.

Coming back down was never great, but it was a discomfort that Wyatt shouldered along with the rest of the tribulations in his life, smirking though the dull ache—though the light of it never reached his eyes. Normally, this is where he could have gotten up and left the apartment. He hadn’t made a habit of sticking around afterward, and Kieran seemed perfectly content with that. But this time was a little different, and in spite of the strings that definitely did not anchor them to one another in any way, he felt like the offer ought to at least be made. Kieran was recovering, after all. What if he needed more help from Wyatt? What if he needed to… to thrive again, as he’d put it earlier? If it helped, Wyatt wanted to do it. He wanted to be of use to someone. 

“Do you want me to stay or leave?”

—

It seemed silly now, the fleeting feeling of vulnerability Kieran had experienced earlier this evening while showing his true nature to Wyatt, along with the fact that he bled easy. A situation in which the faun was the vulnerable one didn’t exist - not because of what he was or was capable of but purely because Wyatt would have him beat at every turn. The man was longing, aching for something out of his reach, not privy to Kieran’s luxury of getting pretty much anything he wanted (as long as that want was carefully regulated within a certain frame, of course). The perfect playmate for a faun. 

Any physical aches were a dull footnote at this point but Kieran held no misconception that tomorrow wouldn’t be absolute hell. At least he could welcome sleep for tonight, injuries as well taken care of as they would be, the faun well satiated. The question caught him off guard and he regarded Wyatt curiously, weighing his options. Kieran generally preferred not to share his sleeping space for two reasons, one of which was obsolete now that his true form had been revealed. The second reason… Wyatt was endearingly needy but also brimming over with boundless, possibly misplaced, pride. He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking this was more than it really was. 

“You can stay,” Kieran decided but there was no talk of want. Want implied something more, something other than the convenience of keeping Wyatt around tonight. Semantics, but he was fae, after all. And if Kieran didn’t particularly mind the steady sound of breathing, the grounding warmth of a body next to his as sleep pulled him under, he was sure to have expertly forgotten as much by the time morning came around. 

[adobe-outdesign]

I'm loving all the neopets posts, would you ever consider reviewing my not very popular favorite the ogrin?

Ogrin have a reputation for being an "ugly" Neopet, but in all honesty I don't really get why. I can get why they're not super popular, as they're not overly cute nor elegant, and they don't really have a distinct visual hook compared to some Neopets—but ugly? Not so much. There are a few things that could be tweaked, but I still like Ogrins as a whole.

Visually, they're kind of like an okapi of sorts, in that they're ungulate-like and have stripes only on the back part of their bodies. However, they also have a few unique features, such as having paws instead of hooves. I like this, as it makes for a more interesting creature design.

The body is broken up pretty well into three shades of the same color—darker accents for the fur, the base color, and tints for the face, underbelly, and paws. This helps with contrast and readability. I also feel like the stripes could've been the same color as the fur.

As a whole, the stripes are the one issue I have with the design—they feel a little cluttered in such a small space and they already have a lot going on with the rest of their bodies. They're interesting, but I feel like they would've looked a little stronger without them.

Ogrins were released not too terribly long before customization, so they look about the same other than the markings not quite reaching the tuft of fur on their cheeks in the customized version and a wider stance.

Favorite Colours:

Robot: Robot Ogrins have a really neat look, giving them an incredibly intense expression and some really slick plating over their bodies. I do think they're a smidge too detailed—the weird blades on their forearms, extra lights on the tail and haunch, and head light could've all been dropped—but it's still neat looking. I do wish it had a mane-like structure on it though, as it doesn't read much like an Ogrin without it.

The uncased version is also interesting, with fun spring-like horns and a neat looking jaw. However, it doesn't really look like it goes under the cased version at all, and between the two, the cased is the stronger design.

Tyrannian: Ogrins already have a pretty prehistoric look to them in a sense, so the Tyrannian Ogrin works out well. I like how the stripes have been increased to be longer and cover more of the leg (once again, very okapi-like), and details like the spots on the fur, claws, and a longer beard. However, I do take a bit of issue with the head—the mohawk should've also been spotted for consistency, and the face needed a far more grumpy, more caveman-like look to it.

Chocolate: My favorite part of this design are the little chocolate shavings that form the mane, which is a fun concept that works really well. It also sports a nice white chocolate drizzle for the stripes, whipped cream fur, and has a nice drippy look around the base of the paws. It's cohesive and looks really good (and delicious).

BONUS: Unsurprisingly, I also have to give a shout-out to the giraffe design with the spotted Ogrin. It's super simple but looks very nice, and the spots feel a bit more cohesive than the stripes did on the original design.