#we’re human and it’s a struggle we have.

[inc0mple]

🗝️ ”Keys Are People, Too” 100 Chapter Q&A ⭐️ (ongoing!)

(Last edit: 12/20 10:40 CST)

Hi! :) If y’all don’t know me my name is Inco (it’s not but shh) and I write a fanfiction for Cinderella Boy called Keys Are People, Too. It’s not finished, it’s ongoing and rapidly approaching 100 chapters XD (yes we are like four chapters away but shh rounding) (I PROMISE WE’RE ALMOST TO THE LAST ACT). So because of an ask from @isitamia and, we’ll say the 100 chapter milestone… tada Q&A??

I don’t know how many people are going to engage with this but that’s totally okay :) I love ranting about stuff and I’ve put a lot of thought into this story, so it would be cool to have an outlet to answer some questions where they don’t get forgotten in AO3 comments. And if you guys also have general questions about writing advice/things like that, I am not an expert but I do also like talking about stories.

So please ask! I’m not planning to close this at any specific time—I was thinking y’all could comment questions under this post or via reblogs (I might miss them in reblogs though) and I will edit this post to answer them, and also reply to you so you know your question is answered. This might get like 10 notes and that’s fine haha (I have zero idea how many people regularly read my story beyond the ones who leave comments), but if there are a lot of questions I’ll try to categorize them. Really just a place to drop info for fun :)

Q&A below ⬇️

I tried to make it organized. It's... kind of organized. Kind of.

Plot/Characters

"What key archetype isn't one of the siblings? Do we get to know their archetypes soon?" asked by @spookieee28 12/20

I'm not gonna say the archetypes at this point in time because it risks spoilers. You will find out by the end of the story and hopefully by that points all of the archetypes should be relatively clear. Some have already been mentioned like the chapter "Heralds and Thieves" for Jade and Cooper, I think (?) Cora has been mentioned as the Innocent archetype, etcetera.

"Which character do you struggle writing the most and which feels easier for you, if you have preferences?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

"Do you ever struggle with keeping Cinderella Boy's canon characters in character?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

I'll answer both of these together. Chase is pretty easy for me because I just channel chaotic gremlin energy and it seems to work. Buddy is OKAY although I am struggling right now making him vulnerable while still retaining him Buddy-ish-ness if that makes sense? Deacon is just Deacon... I am sorry, I feel like I don't really do anything to characterize him, he's just there as a sounding board XD I will say- I daydream situations for CB ALL THE TIME which gives me a lot of comfortability with the canon characters and considering what they would do and say and how they would react. I do have a little bit of difficulty characterizing the human keys so I just kinda went like "oh WELL that's because, UUHHHH, the key siblings don't match the keys exactly! That's it that's the answer!" because I felt like Silver wasn't quite Silver-ish and stuff. As for struggling writing the most I have two main answers.

BRONTE. For those who maybe haven't read this but are scrolling through it anyway, or aren't there yet, Bronte is the "human" version of Bronze and I kinda accidentally eliminated him from the story until like... the 80th chapte ror something like that. I had a lot of trouble actually writing his dialogue and scenes with Chase. It just did not have Bronze's snarky energy. So that was tough and I feel bad because I really feel like I did not do him justice :c

DUKE RAVENELL!!!!!! Ravenell hates me. He gives me so much trouble primarily because I just plunked him in at the beginning and didn't give him a real personality beyond a few vague notions. I've really had to sculpt his character as I went and it's especially difficult because Ravenell is intended to do a lot of plot device-ing. He perpetuates a lot of themes in the story and he is a HUGE character foil to Chase, because he often reflects the opposite of Chase's (and Idonea's) values and intentions. I want him to be morally grey and I am constantly fighting a BATTLE with this man to make sure he isn't too likeable or too hateable. I posted on Tumblr like a week ago really just asking for a diagnostic and the response made my day because people are all OVER the place about this man, some people love him, some will never forgive him, some are like "he's alright but there's something off about him and I can't help but distrust him" and others are like "I know he keeps making mistakes but I can't help but trust him" and I LOVE IT. Fortunately I think he's finally in a place perception-wise where I want him. I want the confusion. So badly. Only now I have to continue to fight this stupid tug-o'-war to keep him properly dividing until the end of the story XD

Behind the scenes

"How did you come up with the plot for KAPT? Was it just a little thought that popped up in your head one day, or did you have like inspiration or something?" asked by @xcitrix 12/20

"Did you have an idea for how you wanted the story to end when you first started writing or did you come up with more ideas while working on it?" asked by @lapileaf 12/20

I'mma answer both of these (and any others if they are asked) in kinda the same go if that's alright. In August I was wanting to write some fanfiction for CB, and one idea rotating in my head was, what if Chase went into a nonfiction book? Like he thought it the most effective way to study for a history project, or he saw a mention of Ex Libris, or something. So, completely directionless, I drabbled out the first chapter of KAPT where they find the book in the museum and... adopt it. And then it sat there in my Google Docs for like two weeks while I worked on a different fanfiction, Violets and Chains. I tried to return to it a little bit and got through the first anthology chapter where they're in the Chartesia battle, but that too did not have a plot behind it, I was like "myeh... trebuchets... uh... and now there's a guy... oh maybe they're PRISONERS..." And then brain did not work and I gave up. Eventually got myself together, BS-ed the rest of the scene, and then sat down and essentially ranted to myself about potential ideas until I figured out the plot.

More ideas have kept cropping up as I've worked on it. There are certain puzzle pieces that are foreshadowed in even teh first ten chapters that I didn't even mean to foreshadow because I hadn't thought of the yet - the plot was generally mapped out but has defintely been refined and added to as time goes on. Eventually you get into the flow of a story and everything just starts clicking into place, like you yourself are theorizing about an external work. Keep in mind that because I am publishing it as I write each chapter, KAPT is a first draft, and I have to hatch out plot points and main parts of the story as I write and make my best effort to recover any loose threads or things like that. It's a fun exercise!

"Do you plan to stick to the story you have already till the end or is there a possiblity you'll have to change some things if we get to know more about canon Ex Libris/Buddy lore while it's still ongoing?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

There are some new bits of information that are kinda iffy for KAPT, but ultimately because KAPT takes place inside a book most of the Buddy/Ex Libris lore is not applicable. Regarding Buddy's situation I am going to go ahead like I was planning to originally, and I'll add a disclaimer when time permits. I don't think either way throws a wrench in the plans too much but I would rather be confident in the themes I've already set up as opposed to trying to hastily recover new lore in the last third of the story, if that makes sense.

"How did you come up with your ocs? I know some, like Jaime, come from another original story of yours ... but what about characters like Ravenell, Galeus, and Rose? What inspired you? How did you decide their personaltiy, their struggles? Did you take inspiration from yourself for anyone, similar to how Punko took inspiration from herself for Chase? Do you follow any specific process to come up with ocs, like follow a list, scheme, or coming up with hypothetical scneraios?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

A lot of the characters are cameos from a passion project I've been working on for years called IFI (no I will not tell you what it stands for) - Jaime and emma are from there, as well as several others including Alexei, Nishan, Mattheo, Kelitia, Indie (the Marchioness), King Aarius, and King Olivyn. So those are just plunked in and then Jaime decided to become part of the plot. As for the other original characters made specifically for KAPT, they just kinda got plopped in for one reason or another (I wanted Rose to connect to the Chartesia lore, Ravenell to have a foil for Chase, and Galeus because, well, there had to be a king) and then I slowly worked to build connections, themes, and character. Often times I don't specifically sit down and think "this character will be this way", it just emerges naturally from their dialogue, like I'm chiseling something out that was already in the stone like an archeologist, as opposed to carving my own new sculpture. I've always written that way and it makes it difficult when I am required to add structure to my writing or explain why I do things the way I do. I will say it is all VERY inspired from my own life and beliefs; Rose exists as a confidante in the story, and many of her more preachy dialogue pieces are things I'm getting out of my system. So yeah, not really a lot of structure to it, they just appear... and I figure them out as I go... most of my characters are in some way facets of myself or the way I percieve life. As I get more experienced with writing I'm sure I'll be more intentional with them, but for now, they are Athena and I am Zeus.

"How do you post daily" (kind of) asked by @isitamia 12/20

To give an actual answer for this because I know it's a lot to post a 2-4k chapter PER DAY - I am a student and have a LOT of downtime in class where I can't really do anything but write. That is how. Also, I have taught myself to be a prolific writer because that is the thing in my life I can always rely on when other things are unstable.

"How did you extend the story so far? I love the plot and it's kinda insane how you were able to develop it so much, at this point it's a full novel and I kinda live for it LOL. Also how long would you consider one act?" asked by @shyve3 12/20

Two parts to this question, I will answer them both;

I didn't mean to. I am really bad about being concise; I can't. When I write and get passionate about a story there's so much I want to stay and I can rarely fit it into what most people consider a pallatable length. I just get going and... idk... unstoppable force or something lol. And yes KAPT is at least the length of a typical trilogy XD ITS BEEN FIVE MONTHS

Regarding the act question, I ORIGINALLY said KAPT would be three acts, with the first ending when Chase goes down into Rose's "tomb" for the first time, the second ending with the Bronte part, and the third being the final one. It is actually more like four now, with the "second" act split into two at the masquerade ball. We are so close to being onto the actual final act, which should be a 4th of the total fic, so we have maybe 30 chapters left (?) (we'll see lol)

I don't have a specific length, it's just the way the story tends to ebb and flow if that makes sense?

General stuff

"Do you have any advice as a writer?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

I AM SO BAD ABOUT THIS because I really do just go type type type and words appear. I know there's more to it than that but I've spent a lot of time writing and not a lot of time learning how to write so I have the experience without the actual education behind it. Write what you care about :) I mean NO DUH but like - your best stories will come from the heart. You will find prolificness (is that a word?) in PASSION. If I didn't care about Cinderella Boy or the themes I'm trying to communicate in KAPT would I spent my days writing a chapter a day ABSOLUTELY FRIGGIN NOT I'd be writing a different story. So yeah - write what you love and your audience will find you. What the world needs is a buncha people doing what they love really well because it's what they care about. Also, I didn't include your full comment here, but I am excited to read your fanfiction! <3 Please post it on Tumblr when you also post it elsewhere!

[ephie-om]

Ever since MC was little they always knew they wanted to be a menace

CW: violence, rough language

Day 20: MCs and OCs

MC has adapted incredibly to the Devildom. You were more than a quarter of the reason that Diavolo’s exchange program had been deemed a roaring success. You’ve been nearly poisoned by food, almost killed by demons, actually killed by a demon, and had your privacy invaded at every turn. But somehow you have come to call the House of Lamentation a home. You blossomed into one of the most respected creatures in the Devildom by demons and humans alike.

You throw a pile of clothes into your suitcase haphazardly. Lucifer raps on your doorframe loudly, “We need to be out of the door in ten minutes.” You nod your understanding. The house thrums with a buzz of noise, brothers calling out to each other. MC can hear Beel accuse Mammon of stealing one of his shirts and Mammon’s vehement denial. You smile to yourself as you struggle to close your suitcase and roll it out of the room.

Lucifer’s voice rises above the din. “Does everyone have everything they need? Once we leave, we’re not coming back!” A murmur of assent rises from the foyer. “Alright, let’s go.” Cheers fill the building as you all file out carrying your luggage. Beel’s arms are filled with several of Asmo’s suitcases as well as his. Your group makes its way to a stone circle crackling with magic. Barbatos has just finished preparing the incantations, and Lucifer directs all of you to pack into the circle with nothing sticking out. An elbow jams into your stomach and knocks the breath out of you. You wheeze a curse, and the magic rising makes the space behind your eyes buzz. A powerful hum fills your ears and you close your eyes.

When you open them again, a light wave of nausea passes over you, mostly from the journey but also from the light. The warm sun beats down on you, a welcome feeling. The demons beside you flinch and shield their eyes, and you chuckle. Barbatos has set you outside of a Hotel Corvo branch, and your group piles in as the demons take in the human world from the lobby. Lucifer gets everyone checked into their rooms and tells you to drop your things at the door and reconvene near the front desk. He pulls out a paper schedule from his unseasonably warm coat, which immediately gets crumpled as his brothers spot more interesting things on the street through the glass doors.

You find yourself dragged along with Mammon and Satan to a coffee shop across the street, both nagging you for flavor recommendations. They’re both talking a mile a minute and you finally give up, telling them that you’ll just order for them. Satan gets an iced white mocha and Mammon gets a disgustingly sweet blended caramel drink. You order your own drink of choice and sip idly while they browse the mugs for sale. Another customer bumps into Satan from behind, and he shoots the back of her head a withering glare, remembering Lucifer’s strict instructions to act like humans. That meant no violence unless absolutely necessary and no demon forms, both rules that Satan felt like were personally targeted.

Mammon splits off from your group after spotting a high-end department store and Satan elects to try and find a thrift shop. You’re fairly sure that an affluent area like this wouldn’t have one, but you accept the challenge anyway. It’ll be a good way to see more of the area, if nothing else. You wander down sidewalks here and there at Satan’s insistence, happily taking in the familiar smells and sounds.

He spots a dingy-looking building down a side street, grabbing your hand to tow you along with him. You duck into the door and the heavy scent of patchouli hits your nostrils. You cough from the smell and the person at the front desk glances up at the two of you. “Welcome in,” he drones, looking back down at his phone. Satan stands there for a moment, looking over the variety of clothes for sale.

“Satan, I don’t think this is a thrift store. I’m pretty sure this is just a sketchy regular store.” He shrugs and wanders to look at pants, and you wriggle your hand out of his. You’ve made it a mission to get gifts for all the brothers, and the streetwear style sold here would probably suit Beel or Mammon perfectly. You catch movement out of the corner of your eye, another employee exiting the back room. He’s tall but skinny, slightly hunched over. You go back to browsing, trying to find a good pair of sunglasses for Beel while he’s up here.

A pair with burnished orange frames stands out to you from the back of the rack, and as you circle around to grab it, you notice the same employee again. As you look at him, he hurriedly turns back to a rack of shirts. You pluck the sunglasses out and keep them securely in one hand, trying to show you aren’t stealing anything. Satan waves to grab your attention and holds up an armful of clothes as he heads to the counter, and the tall employee follows. He rings up Satan’s purchase with a smile that looks out of place on his face, and Satan tries to politely smile back. You browse a jewelry rack near the counter just in case you need to stop Satan.

“So, are you two together?” he asks a perturbed Satan.

“No, we’re visiting with family,” he replies cautiously.

“Well, that’s a shame. Two pretty people like you would make a good pair.”

Satan narrows his eyes. “We aren’t.” He grabs his bag from the employee with a little more force than necessary, but he just smiles back. You walk up to the register with the sunglasses for Beel and a thick golden ring for Mammon. He watches closely as you set them down on the counter and takes his time entering the product information into his computer. “So, have you had any work done?” he asks you casually. Taken aback, you stutter for a moment.

“N-no, never.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. You’re telling me all of that is natural?”

You start to feel the annoyance rise in you as you give him a short nod back. The shop door creaks as it opens to reveal Lucifer. Satan turns to him as they hold a quiet conversation, and as you look over at them, the man at the counter takes the opportunity while you're distracted to reach out and stroke your cheek. You whip back around, incredulous, but he doesn’t move.

Wrath bubbles up from inside of you. How dare he touch you without asking? Your eyes blaze green and your animal, or maybe demonic, instincts take over.

He screams as you sink your teeth deep into his hand, and the demons by the door jump. The tall man tries to pull back, but you won’t let him get away so easily. You bite down harder until your jaw pops from the effort. You smell blood, and he howls in pain. “G-GET IT OFF!” he screams to Satan, who doesn’t move a muscle. Feeling like you’ve accomplished enough, you open your mouth. He drops to the floor, tears flowing, and you grimace at the taste in your mouth, like cheap cigarettes. Mission accomplished, you take your purchases from the counter.

You turn to leave, facing Lucifer and Satan, who are standing there in complete shock. Lucifer swallows hard and motions to his mouth. “You’ve got a little, um…” You wipe your lips with your hand and it comes away red.

“We can stop at a bathroom and I’ll get cleaned up. Are we going to dinner?”

Lucifer nods. “I was coming to get the two of you, seeing as you wandered off.”

You shrug. “It’s not like we were in any danger.”

Satan chuckles softly. “I guess not.”

[cve-th3mvsic]

to anybody and everybody who has a uterus, still gets their period, and uses pads when they’re on their period:

do you ever think you’re like, at the end of your cycle or that your period is done, and you should be done bleeding, (and you’re also js secretly desperately hoping in your mind that you’re done bleeding right now because you’re just so done with it and don’t wanna wear the damn pad anymore), so you decide to not wear a pad/not put on a new one because there wasn’t anything on it before and you’re like almost sure that you should be done, but then later, the next time you use the bathroom, you realize, whoops!! you’re wrong. you are still bleeding, and, just to your luck, you bled through your underwear. and now you’re extra upset because you really hoped that you were done and you really didn’t wanna have to put a pad on, but it bled through and now you have to put a pad on again. and what’s even worse, it didn’t just get on your underwear. it might’ve even gotten on your pants/shorts, or your inner thighs. so now you probably feel gross, and you feel like you have to shower asap.. because who would want to keep the blood on their inner thighs? 

it’s such a disappointment. especially when it’s a lot of blood.

(i don’t mean this in a pissed tf off kind of tone, i’m just bummed out about it. this happened to me today, which is why i’m posting this. i wanna know if anybody else relates)

___

also, i’ve seen lots of people say that apparently, to some people in society, talking about periods/menstruation is considered a weird thing to do. the people that i’ve seen say that have also said that we should normalize talking about periods.

we should 100% normalize talking about it.

we’re fucking humans and it happens to us. we bleed down there. it’s a normal thing for us people with a uterus. hate to break it to ya, but we can’t change that. and ya know, if i could i would. if i could choose to not have a period anymore, i wouldn’t have it. — it should not be weird to talk about periods, or what it’s like having a period. that shouldn’t be considered weird.

like be for real.

the human body is a strange thing (in my opinion), but definitely not strange enough to be something i wouldn’t talk about.

i think that this kind of thing/topic may be something that not many people would have the confidence or guts(?) to talk about .

to the people who may be too scared to talk about the struggles of having a period and what it’s like: i’ll say it for us. i’ll talk about it.

we bleed down there. it’s not very fun. when it starts, it’ll probably get on our underwear if we don’t put a pad on or use some other kind of feminine product to stop it from doing so. (i only use pads, so i dunno what it’s like using a tampon or whatever the other options there are). sometimes, it bleeds through our clothes. like our underwear or shorts/pants. it might be embarrassing if someone sees it, but hey, shit happens. if it does, we shouldn’t be judged for it. it happens, it’s not fun. but it’s not weird.

i mean, honestly, (in a similar scenario), if i peed my pants, hell yah i’d be embarrassed. but dude, i couldn’t get to the bathroom soon enough to go pee and prevent that. yah that sucks, but don’t judge me for it. and don’t compare me to a kid or call me a kid if i pee my pants either. i couldn’t get to the bathroom soon enough to pee, that doesn’t make me a child. i just couldn’t hold it in. big deal. it’s not funny, and it shouldn’t be.

and if you don’t wanna hear about this, cool. you don’t have to.

and ya know, there’s an option of simply scrolling past the post. of simply not reading it. you can ignore this. scroll away. it’s fine. i mean, if you’ve read to here at this point, you did choose to do so.

so if you read this and got uncomfortable, maybe don’t read it. if you’ve become uncomfortable by reading this, maybe you could have not clicked the “Keep reading” button to prevent that.

(i mean, sometimes curiosity kills the cat, but still)

if you did get uncomfortable by reading this, don’t mention it here please. please don’t reply to this post about it. it’d be nice. go talk to someone else about it. i cannot force you to not reply, but i can ask you.

you have your opinions too, and that is 100% okay. we all have opinions. we should be able to share them.

but if they include that you think that the stuff mentioned in this post is weird or gross, please do not reply to this post. i ask you very kindly.

i mean this respectfully, i don’t wanna hear about it. if you disagree with me and what i posted, please go somewhere else to talk about it. i’d rather you not tell me. i cannot stop you, but i’d like you to know that i do not want to hear about your opinion if it is negative. again, respectfully, please go somewhere else to discuss your opinion if you disagree or have a very strong and negative opinion on this.

i do not tolerate any kind of hate. i will not tolerate if you decide to reply to this post, (in any way, whether it’s a reply in the messages thingy or a reblog), with hate or discrimination. if you reply with hateful words or discrimination, you will be blocked. i don’t know if you care about that, but please, take your negative opinion(s) elsewhere. it is not okay to discriminate.

___

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of my fave things about teaching is that I’m NOT a counselor and I don’t have to get into the weeds with a student but also I’m part of their life every day and i see when they’re struggling and I can ask how them how they’re doing and make sure that they know I see them on a steady, daily basis and it will be healing for both of us

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

Just read a post about how you shouldn’t trust a doctor who rushes you and like, yes I fully understand the frustration, so here’s what you can do to stop yourself being rushed:

-ask for a double appointment

-ask for a triple appointment

-fuck it ask for an hour long appointment if you think it’ll help

-be outright about what you want/need from an appointment. If you need more time to process information, say that. If you need the doctor to write out all information, say that. If you have a complex case/long history, say that!

-list all the reasons why you want to see the doctor/vet that day and please don’t sugar coat it. “Been vomiting” is a ten minute fix. “Been vomiting after every meal for the past two years” is not. It needs a double appointment and possibly a referral too.

Doctors and vets are overworked to fuck and exploited to hell. Help us out a little, please

[whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer]

I’ve had a job I’ve worked at for two years. If management wasn’t so bad and I didn’t have to worry about my bills I would have stayed at that job even though I’ve had to deal with a good amount of bad customers. I genuinely loved the job itself.

[void-tiger]

Maybe I’m doing pretty well at containing this, actually. Or at least not the WORST about it…

[00-oh-yanno-00]

i have to work today and i’ll be honest, homies, if i get one more “aw you have to work on chriwtmas :(“ from a customer or another “ik its chriwrmss but we still have a call flow :(“ from management i’m going to throw the whole company into the ocean and then myself off a bridge

[falesten-iw]

There’s a bittersweet joy in witnessing the struggles of the Syrian people bear moments of hope, but it feels like a fleeting spark, a fragile light overshadowed by deeper, relentless forces. Can we call this freedom? Or is it just a brief pause in a cycle of pain that has gripped us for far too long?

For decades, the Middle East has been scarred by war, division, and unimaginable suffering. These aren’t random tragedies, they are deliberate, calculated acts meant to maintain control. As long as Zionism continues to reshape the region, inching closer to the goal of a Greater Israel, true freedom for any of us will remain a distant dream.

But freedom isn’t just about removing one dictator or another. Real freedom requires dismantling the entire system that keeps us in chains. It’s about a shift in power, a dismantling of structures that oppress us all. Until Palestine is free, until the people who are suffering are allowed to breathe, none of us can say we’re free.

This isn’t just a political issue for me, it’s personal. My family in Gaza is living through an unthinkable reality: genocide, freezing cold nights without shelter, hunger, and prices so high that survival is a struggle each day. They’re stuck in a nightmare that keeps getting worse, and their suffering is not just a faraway tragedy, it’s a pain that echoes through me.

And yet, despite the immense pain, I hold on to hope. Because I know that change is possible. Every small donation, every act of solidarity, can ripple outward and transform lives. This isn’t just charity, it’s resistance. It’s standing together to defy those who profit from our suffering. You have the power to be part of this change. Stand with Gaza. Stand for freedom. Stand for humanity.

This campaign is for 26 lives hanging by a thread, including two orphaned children and a family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. She urgently needs surgery to replace infected plates in her body. The situation is dire, and every day is a battle. The video showing the injured family member was shared earlier in this post: Link.

Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.

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@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday @jame7t @el-shab-hussein

@jonpertwee @flipton @bell-bones @ragingbullmode @envytherose

@rodent178 @tangledinourstrings @kraigerzz-blog @frogbrainedfool @the-ending-of-dramamine

@redsavesquare @uninvited-eon @glenbot @ultimateumbreon33 @pitbolshevik

@disastersim @airsigh @cowboy-queer @lapastelr0sa @sharingresourcesforpalestine

@rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @kropotkindersurprise @cruzwalters @la7ma-mafrooma @rosyish

@bookskittychad @streakoflavender @miraclemaya @devilofthepit @paper-mario-wiki

@gay-yosuke @cometcrystal @nb-marceline @cicadaland @charlott2n

@manletwizard @2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael

@penelopiaad @hashiramashonkers @laughtracklesbian @legallymean @b0nkcreat

@crapscicle @uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @momxijinping @longlivepalestina

@saberboi-1 @martinmynster @nako-funky @trans-leek-cookie @vaticinatrix

@moomoobug @narwa @twilightobservationtower @estrellasrojas @knxfesck

@lakeeffectbitch @fatbitchneedsfoodbadly @no-thats-absurd @humanmorph

@sandiwchirlinreal @tcda @misspiggyforvogueitalia @gamb0fficial @vincentspork

@gemstonedraws @frankendykes-monster @mizoguchi @kos-mos @ryoki-ph

@blackwoolncrown @nightwussy @freehologramreview @melancholy-hummingborb

@sister-lucifer @nonbinarymerbabe @raventhecoolestpersonever @ebenrosetaylor @wellwaterhysteria

@inkbomber @collectoroflovelythings @k00ldino @sundung @extrabitterbrain

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@paper-mario-wiki @prisonhannibal @a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster

[bandydear]

Land acknowledgments be like: I would like to acknowledge the traditional, ancestral, unceded territory of the First Nations band we had to google before writing this an hour before the presentation on which we are learning, working and organizing today. I think it’s important to acknowledge the land because growing up as an immigrant here, I never heard the traditional names of the territories. I still don’t use them because, frankly, they’re difficult to pronounce and I don’t like learning things where I can be corrected. Indigenous people were talked about in the past tense and all the struggles they faced were in the past tense as well. It is easier to deny Indigenous people their rights if we historicize their struggles and simply pretend they don’t exist. As an activist, I would like to take this opportunity to commit myself to the struggle against the systems of oppression that have dispossessed Indigenous people of their lands and denied their rights to self-determination, work that is essential to human rights work across the world. I’m not going to invite any Indigenous voices to participate though. We invited one elder here to give us permission to guilt trip everyone in this room for five minutes, but we are making no effort to support the existing Indigenous community. We plan to continue ignoring them after patting ourselves on the back for this acknowledgement too. It’s not that we’re against adding indigenous voices, it’s just not the time and place for it. If anything, we’re for the further segregation of our cultures, because we feel guilty and uncomfortable at the poverty these communities continue to live in when we charged $100 a ticket for everyone to be here.

[jouno-s]

yes seeing the palestine tags not trending for days in a row is disheartening — but that doesn’t mean we’re not talking about it. we are still talking and sharing and reading and we will continue to do so until palestine and every other group of people struggling for freedom are liberated, and beyond.

we have known since this intense new wave of ‘israeli’ aggression started that all social media platforms have been suppressing all forms of palestinian content. so do not become disheartened or demotivated by the lack of tags trending—

*because that does not mean we have stopped talking.*

as people who are not currently in palestine, and especially as non-palestinians, we do not have the right to become demotivated by anything in this situation. we do not have the right to complain that it seems like nothing is changing. we do not have the right to lose hope when palestinians have been passionately fighting the occupation since it began.

and, do not forget about the other struggles for liberation in the world right now. keep talking about palestine, keep talking about congo, keep talking about sudan, about the uyghurs, about the rohingya, about *humanity.*

from the river to the sea 🇵🇸

[senseandaccountability]

"I'm me again"

Yes well this is me getting a little sappy - again - about the spirits/demon thing as a metaphor for the human experience, must be Friday. 

(Yes, this is about Solas.)

Last night my Ingellvar was tending to the graves with Emmrich and she said “demons” and immediately corrected herself, because of course she meant spirits but people outside Nevarra so easily call them demons and Emmrich, one of the kindest and most insightful people in the entire DA verse, would of course never do that. Because he sees them all as spirits. Some of them may be twisted, embittered, furious and cruel but to him they are still, at heart, the same being as their more positive virtues. You are always you, as Solas tells Cole. 

Which is also what Solas argues for all of DAI.

Which is also what Solas personal quest actively shows us in DAI.

His friend, broken and twisted by the mages' bindings, dies a spirit of Wisdom, thanking him and telling him not to be sad. “I’m me again.”

Which is also a very strong theme in Solas entire arc. 

But it’s really not just Solas, or the elves. The eternal struggle of spirits is a reflection of the human soul and what it means to be human. What parts of you does the world let you cultivate, what parts are hidden and twisted in the dark, what virtues would you be remembered for if you died tomorrow? What sort of person have you become? What person could you be? DA is crammed with these themes.

Since the spirit reveal/confirmation, I’ve seen a lot of very detailed and very cool discussions about the specifics of spirit virtues and demon characteristics and that’s some good shit right there, but you can also be lazy like me and very much just read it as various aspects of human nature interacting with each other. We’re all so many things over our lifetime, to different people, in different contexts. We all carry such endless capacity for goodness and gentleness and we’re all so very capable of hurting each other.

In the codex entries we see Solas try over and over and over again to appeal to the better nature of the Evanuris. He is described as brilliant and wise, he is pulled out of the Fade specifically for his wisdom and he tries to get them to reflect that, to listen to his concerns, to use their powers differently. Why don’t you make creatures that can protect the People, he asks Ghilan’nain. Why do you need to push your power further, he asks Elgar’nan, the people are already submitting to your rule, why must you shackle them? War may have twisted him up already but there’s nothing he says that isn’t extremely valid and wise about the Evanuris’ approach to ruling.

But as we learn from the Spirit of Command in Crestwood in DAI, wisdom is considered a soft virtue in a world of war and hierarchy and his reasoning falls flat or gets interpreted as fear or insubordination. Unheard and undervalued, his wisdom grows sour and prideful. He isn’t wrong, he knows he isn't, and he will show them. You are not gods, I will make you see that you are not gods. I will humble you until you understand that I am right. 

This is a profoundly human experience.

The ancient elven empire ultimately falls to its own greed and hierarchies and lack of boundaries - all of which Solas pointed out, all of which he and his rebels opposed. But the Evanuris didn’t listen, they were caught in a power scheme where only individual power matters and everyone else becomes pawns. How ironic then that their empire falls to its own foolish pride and boundless cruelty against the Titans, the first children of the earth. They hurt themselves by hurting them. They wound the fabric that binds them all together. 

Solas as a character is an open, ongoing conflict between "spirit" and "demon" aspects, between light and dark, between identifying as a solitary creature or part of the whole. It’s never more visible than during the final act of DAV where he is at once Solas, standing with the Shadow Dragons against the blight. And also Fen’Harel, scheming to get there in the first place, treating people in his way like dehumanized pawns to reach his final destination, a goal that can be argued to be entirely tainted with pride at this point, a way to soothe his conscience and need to be right more than it’s a way to save the world. And he’s the Dread Wolf, physically embodying the struggle against the corrupt powers since he, unlike the Evanuris, doesn’t believe in binding creatures to fight his battles. It’s significant that while he fights alone, he cannot do it without help from Rook. Elgar’nan directs all of the blight at the Dread Wolf and it takes a sacrifice from the team to free him from its grasp. It’s a battle orchestrated by a god. 

And Solas, powerful as he may be, is not a god. 

That is why it’s so lovely to me that the ending isn’t just a matter between Solas and his conscience or between Solas and Rook or Solas and Lavellan. Because we are not single entities. We are not islands. That’s why we need each other, because we respond to each other, we affect each other, we abuse and love each other and we cannot really understand in which ways until we connect. We use each other to remind us of who we are, or who we could be. Every Benevolence needs a Wisdom, every Command needs a Compassion, every one of us needs someone else in some way, shape or form. We are not meant to be solitary. We all share Solas' deepest fear of dying alone. We all share Solas’ ongoing conflict with the better and worse parts of our nature. We all reflect each other. The ending brings in the past, the present and the person that knows Solas not as a god but as a person.

We are shattered fragments of a greater whole and it was, as Morrigan points out, Solas’s love for and loyalty to his people that set him on this course long ago. And he broke the world. He broke his people. He couldn’t save them, all the horrible things that he has done and he still couldn’t save them. Ultimately and emotionally to him, this isn’t about wisdom or pride or good or evil or any such dichotomy, this is about grief and regret and broken humanity.

That is why it’s so powerful to me that a romanced or friendly Lavellan is so kind to him in DAV. They approach him carefully, they kneel down beside him to make a connection, they are understanding and compassionate and it may not be what he deserves on some grand justice scale of things, but it is without question what he needs. Pride and regret and grief need compassion, hope and benevolence much more than it needs to be proven wrong or challenged, kindness breaks the cycle.

They reach out to him not the way one would reach out to a god, but to a person. Because that’s what Solas needs to be reminded of - his humanity. That’s what their love and friendship has always reminded him of, that's what the Inquisition taught him - that the world is worth caring about because broken as it may be, it is also full of people. 

And people matter. They might not matter to the Dread Wolf, but they have always mattered to Solas.

That's what the good ending represents.

"I'm me again." 

[officeobject]

Gamers, it's donating/reblogging time!

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Hello dear ❤️‍🩹

I hope you are well at this time and I wish you a successful day. I am Ahed Al-Anqar from Gaza, married and have three displaced girls in a school in the southern Gaza Strip that lacks the most basic necessities of life. We live a very difficult life and my children suffer from malnutrition and severe cold and we are on the verge of winter. I have launched a donation campaign to support and assist my family so that we can live, just to survive, and I hope you will help me reach even part of my goal by writing a single post and sharing my current posts pinned to my blog. I hope that you will respond to my request, which is not for me but for the young children. From me, my children and my family, I extend my sincere thanks and gratitude.🙏❤️🙏

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Hello my friend,🇵🇸🤍

I hope you’re well. I’m reaching out today to ask for your support in the difficult circumstances we’re facing. As you may know, my family and I have lost everything after being displaced💔, and we’re now relying on the solidarity of those who stand with our cause and believe in human rights and children's rights❤️.

Any contribution, no matter how small, would mean a lot to us and help us get through this challenging time. If you’re able to donate or share the campaign link with others who care about these issues, I would be deeply grateful🙏🙏🙏.

Here’s the donation link:🖤❤️🤍💚

[https://gofund.me/107a8322]

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and compassion. Wishing you safety and peace always.🙏🤍🤍

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Hello my friends! 👋💓

The situation in Gaza is worsening day by day, and my family is still struggling in very tough conditions. 😔💔

I only have $223 left to reach the $9000 goal, and I hope to achieve it today. 🇵🇸😢

I sincerely thank everyone who has supported and stood by us during this time. 💗🍉

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Please donate a small amount that may save my father's life, he needs daily medication worth 55€ and will undergo surgery worth 250€, please do not ignore my message and do not hesitate to help me🙏

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🛑Account No. 11 due to repeated deletion

✅verified by: @gaza-evacuation-funds

If you can't donate, I hope you'll create a post for me and pin it🫂

[natalievoncatte]

19. Bake

Leaning against the doorframe, Lena watched as Kara furrowed her brows in concentration so intense that it seemed her project might burst into flames. Literally. She was was craned over a cookbook on the counter and mumbling to herself about pearl-sized beads of butter and exactly what size a pearl is.

She never admitted it, but Kara sometimes she struggled with metaphors like that, little things that a human would know that eluded one of the last survivors of a doomed planet. The others, even Alex, thought it was cute or funny but they didn’t seem to notice the pain in Kara’s eyes or how lost she looked when she missed something others all knew.

Lena stalked up behind her and leaned over the counter beside her.

“Hey,” said Lena.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m making a pumpkin pie for tomorrow, but the dough doesn’t look right.”

Lena looked over Kara’s work and frowned. What she had was most definitely not pie dough. She then glanced at the fridge and saw the list of things Kara was trying to make.

“Hmm,” said Lena.

She opened the fridge and freezer and looked over Kara’s pantry and sighed.

This would not do at all.

“We’re taking a break,” said Lena.

“We?”

“Yes, we.”

In a few minutes she had an Instacart list cobbled together and had placed the order. Kara pouted when her attempted dough went in the bin, but Lena stood firm.

“Let me help you.”

Kara signed. “I want to do it myself.”

Lena’s heart felt like it was climbing up her throat. Kara was so effortlessly pretty that it was, frankly, unfair. Her glasses were off and her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and Lena was obsessed. She had on a baggy t-shirt that softened her lithe, muscular frame and hung a little off one shoulder. She looked so soft despite the cords of steel hard muscle that flexed beneath her silky skin.

It made Lena a little panicky. Sometimes she’d think to herself that seeing Kara every time was just like seeing her for the first time, which was exactly like the first time she looked at another girl *like that* as if some pathway had just opened in her brain.

After the grocery order arrived and Lena bumped the driver’s tip to four figures for coming on the day before Thanksgiving, Lena set to work.

“I’ve never seen you cook,” said Kara.

“In the only one in the family who can,” said Lena, as she scrubbed a potato. “Lillian thought doing menial tasks was beneath our dignity, and forbade it. Of course I snuck out to spend time with the staff.”

Kara looked at her softly.

“Let’s get that pie in the works while these boil,” she said, slipping the potatoes into the pot.

Kara ended up helping more than anything, as Lena worked her way through the list.

“This way we’ll just have to make the turkey tomorrow,” she explained. “The rest will all be done and we’ll have some time to relax before everyone arrives. Is your mother coming?”

“She’s staying with Alex this year,” said Kara.

She was looking at Lena as she spoke, her voice a little distant. A shiver passed down Lena’s spine and she felt her cheeks pink a little, as she glanced away and turned back to grating frozen butter for the pie crust.

Kara sidled closer, seemingly reading the cookbook, but every time Lena looked over, Kara met her gaze and quickly turned away.

“Here you go, darling. Fold it like a letter, turn, fold it like a letter, turn. Do that three times, then back in the fridge for half an hour and we do it again.”

Lena was, in all honesty, doing the real work and giving Kara the simple tasks, like peeling the potatoes (which was easy, because she could not only do so without burning herself, but could also just reach into the boiling water to grab.)

Kara neatly folded the pie crust while Lena mashed the potatoes and pushed them through Kara’s sieve for perfect, Michelin-star restaurant smoothness. Lena was a little daunted by the “green bean casserole”, not exactly standard Luthor thanksgiving fare, but it was easier as she was watched Kara follow her instructions to knead dough for dinner rolls.

They worked in companionable silence, Lena doing one task while Kara did another, and slowly they built up an array of side dishes and a wonderful smelling pumpkin pie that Lena had to practically tear Kara away from. She almost wished she’d made a spare pie for Kara to eat right now.

“I’m huuuuuungry” she pleaded.

Looking over Kara’s now-full fridge, full of delicious Thanksgiving fare ready to be warmed in the oven, she pulled out her phone.

“We’ll get take-away delivered.”

Knowing what she was dealing with, Lena ordered enough Chinese for a small army and ended up picking at spicy beef and broccoli while Kara sat next to her, devouring her own body weight from five different containers.

“Here,” she said, offering Lena a fortune cookie.

Smirking, Lena popped it open and unfurled the little message.

“What’s it say?”

A great opportunity lies before you.

Lena laughed. “Nothing. Now we have to clean up, you know.”

“I can do that, you just relax.”

Lena sank back into the couch -she was tired- while Kara rolled up her sleeves and did the dishes, moving a little too fast for a human, at least until Lena looked over to watch her, studying the flexing muscles in her forearms as she worked. There was something playing on the tv, but it was vastly less interesting.

Kara smelled pleasantly of soap when she plopped on the couch, rocking Lena towards her. She sank back and sighed, letting her head loll over so she could look at Lena.

“Thank you for doing all that work. I’d have been hopeless without you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Lena said, softly.

It was getting late, the sun having long set; they’d toiled in the kitchen past nine o’clock.

It was time for Lena to go home.

Kara looked pensive, pretty eyes downcast.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

It was an absurd question, profoundly silly, even. Lena had been to every Danvers family get together for the better part of three years now (there was that one missed year, gaping like a void in her chest, but that was over now, they were better, she wouldn’t spend another Thanksgiving drunk on her sofa and sobbing ever again)

Lena wished she’d opened one of the wine bottles. She needed a little help with her courage. Her voice cracked a little when she managed to say, “It’s getting late. I could just stay.”

Her heart was pounding.

Kara’s hand slid along the back of the couch and she crooked one of Lena’s curls around her finger, playing idly with it. They sat close, turned into each other, almost touching.

“You can have the bed,” said Kara. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Lena felt her throat go dry, and squeezed her hands together to keep them from shaking. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl, and it was weirdly delightful. Kara was watching her cocky confidence and a crooked smile.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” said Lena. “I trust you to keep your hands to yourself if we share the bed.”

“What will you sleep in?”

“Won’t you let me borrow something?”

Kara made a little gesture with her head. Lena nodded and headed behind the partition that made up Kara’s “bedroom wall” and turned to the clothes rack that served as her closet. Hand trembling, she swept each item aside, stopping when she found an old hoodie.

It was threadbare and the drawstrings were missing and it was much too large for her, but it was perfect, a maroon Midvale High sweatshirt. Lena carefully laid it out on the bed and in a single nervous, trembling motion, pulled her top over her head and set it aside.

It was chilly in the apartment, and her skin pricked with goose pimples as soon as the air hit it. She licked her lips nervously and popped the clasps on her bra before discarding it and dumping the sweatshirt on over her bare skin. The hem hung well below her waist.

Feeling her pulse in her throat, she pushed her leggings down and stepped out of them, then padded back out on bare feet, toes curling from the cold floor.

“You coming?”

Kara’s eyes went comically wide when she saw her, gaze instantly drawn to her pale legs.

“Yep.”

Lena retreated to the bedroom… then realized that Kara hadn’t changed. Lena was standing there awkwardly when Kara strolled around the partition and, in a slightly too hurried motion, pulled her own top off.

She was facing away, her back flexing magnificently as she stretched, now clad only in a soft black sports bra. Lena knew she was staring as Kara pushed her jeans down, revealing a pair of flannel boxer shorts beneath. She turned and looked at Lena.

Oh holy fuck, Lena thought.

“I usually just sleep like this,” Kara said, her voice quivering a little. “Is that okay?”

Lena nodded.

She climbed into the bed, sort of precariously parking on the edge. Kara lifted the covers and slid under, her weight on the mattress making it curve towards her, as though Lena were drawn, by gravity, to her embrace.

She let it take her. She ended up right next to Kara, and the lay turned on their sides towards each other.

Lena wanted to scream. This was a terrible idea.

“Hi,” Kara whispered.

“Hi, yourself,” said Lena.

God, she was right there, those muscles, the silky golden-tanned skin of her long legs (how did she have a tan in November?!), the supernaturally perfect blonde curls, and those big, pretty blue eyes just drinking her in.

Lena snuggled up under the blankets, shifting closer.

“So we’re sleeping in the same bed,” said Kara.

“Yes, I see we are. Though neither of us appears to be sleeping.”

“True,” said Kara, “though one might say that we’re about to sleep together.”

“One might,” Lena agreed.

“English is such a funny language. Someone might be confused if I went around saying I sleep with Lena Luthor.”

“Some might be jealous,” said Lena, arching a brow.

“Well of course. They don’t know what a little snuggle bunny you are.”

Lena grinned foolishly, trying to hide it behind the baggy sleeve of Kara’s sweatshirt.

“You’re wearing my clothes, too. Someone might say we’re going steady.”

“Aren’t we? Neither of us had been on a date with anyone in years.”

Lena wanted to feel bold, she really did, but she was so nervous she could barely breathe.

“Are you okay, baby?” Kara whispered. “Your heart is going really fast.”

Lena nodded. “I’m okay, just, um.”

She felt so silly. Here she was, bold, sassy, uber-confident battle bisexual Lena Luthor utterly tongue tied and helpless and in bed with her best friend.

Kara shifted closer, then closer still. Lena thought she might literally depart from her body when Kara’s legs tangled gently with hers. She stared in astonishment when Kara gently rolled her on her back… by climbing on top of her, slipping an arm around her back while the other hand brushed loose locks from her eyes and swept around to cradle the back of her head.

“Are we really doing this?” Lena choked out. “What are we doing?”

Kara’s face filled her vision, inches from kissing her. Hot breath ticked her lips.

“I think the real question is why did we wait so long?”

“If you don’t kiss me, I’m going to die.”

Kara did, dipping down slowly to brush her lips lightly over Lena’s in the most teasing, potent first kiss she’d ever had, a kiss to make her forget all her other firsts. Then Kara kissed her harder and Lena could feel the need in her, hunger and passion pent up for years.

She responded with her own, pressing her hips up to meet Kara.

“You took my favorite hoodie.”

“I did.”

“Be a good girl, and give it back.”

Lena, it turned out, was a very good girl.

When she woke up the next… noonish, she was still feeling the afterglow. Kara was passed out and snoring next to her, arm casually thrown over Lena’s belly. She slipped out from under it and stretched in the sunlight before pulling the hoodie back on. She’d have to find something more proper to wear, after a shower and some breakfast. She didn’t want to spoil her dinner, but she was hungry. Kara had been… exhausting, honestly.

She wanted to do a little dance, right until she walked out into the main area of the loft, bare-assed and hoodie-clad, and found herself face to face with Alex and Eliza Danvers.

“What are you doing here?” Lena and Alex both yelped at the same time.

Eliza was beet red, but said, “Ah, hello, Lena. You came early?”

(And often)

“I, um, that is, I, we…”

Eliza was bemused now, giving her a motherly smile.

“Why don’t you go change and wake Kara up?”

Alex continued to stare at Lena, the wheels almost audibly spinning in her head.

“Okaygoodidea,” Lena chirped out, awkwardly tugging her sole garment down as she darted back into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Lena was in the shower while Kara very loudly explained the merits of texting first or just knocking on the door like a normal person, while Alex snapped back that it was technically still her apartment.

When she finally emerged in Kara’s flannel and Kara’s jeans, Alex and Kara were still bickering while Eliza was simply staring at the contents of the fridge. Lena walked over awkwardly (for multiple reasons) and rubbed at her arms.

“I helped Kara get all the other dishes ready. We only have to worry about the turkey.”

Eliza looked up and smirked at her.

“May I just say… it’s about time, sweetheart.”

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Ending One: Queen of the Jungle

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.

Note 2: Sorry this is short, I wasn't sure how to write this one lol.

In each hand you carried a bucket, filled to the brim with steaks. It was kind of nostalgic of your first time in the exhibit. It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago.

You hummed to yourself as you approached the lions’ area. You furrowed your brow- the rocks had been rearranged in nearly a complete circle, with just enough room for you to walk inside and approach the king of the jungle’s sunning rock.

“Hey, Leona!” you called out to the lion halfling lazily regarding you from his perch, “Dinner time!”

The pride’s leader leapt down from his resting spot and casually approached you, his movements lazy yet filled with grace. His eyes, intelligent and painfully sharp, never left you as you entered the circle of rocks.

The other lions were nowhere to be found. Confused, you searched for them in the shade of the rocks, but there was no one there.

As you reached the middle of the circle, something occurred to you. The usually-cackling hyenas were unusually quiet. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Something’s wrong.

You turned to face the circle’s exit and, within an instant, strong arms had wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back against a solid chest. You gasped and dropped both buckets as you struggled to break free. The grip did not budge no matter how hard you fought.

“Shhh, easy there, herbivore,” a voice murmured in your ear, low and gravely and filled with amusement.

Your heart jumped out of your chest. It was Leona who had spoken, but it wasn’t the Leona you knew. It was the Leona whose gaze had started to linger too long for your liking. The Leona who had always seemed too much like a predator than a human.

But he wasn’t alone. 

Now facing the circle’s gap, you saw Ruggie, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he blocked your only exit.

“Gotcha!” Ruggie snickered, “Took you long enough.”

“What… what are you doing?!” you cried, trying to twist out of Leona’s grasp, making no progress whatsoever on escaping.

Leona’s breath was hot against your neck, “You spend too much time with those other exhibits,” he spat out the word like it was a slur, “You must pay more attention to us.”

Ruggie snickered again and leaned casually against the towering rocks, his eyes tracking every movement you made, “You ignore us. Not fair, y’know? You must remember your real favorites.”

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, “This isn’t funny- let me go.”

Leona chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back, “We’re not joking, herbivore. You play with fire, you get burnt. We don’t like to share.”

“Share?” you echoed, voice shaky with fear and confusion, “What do you-”

“You’re ours,” Leona interrupted sternly, “You have always been ours.”

Ruggie pushed off the rock and sauntered over, his sharp-canined grin widening as he got closer, “You should have seen this coming. We dropped hints. You’re just too silly to notice.”

Leona’s nose brushed against your hair, inhaling deeply, “We’re tired of waiting around. You stay here now.”

You began to thrash desperately in his hold, but he held you effortlessly, like a mouse in a cat’s jaws.

“You’ll love it here!” Ruggie cooed, “No more zoo. No more stress. Just you, us, and the savannah. We will keep you cool. It’s perfect.”

The reality of the situation hit you all at once. They weren’t going to let you leave. They were deadly serious. The playful smile Ruggie wore was just a mask for the possession lurking beneath.

It was too much for you, and as hopelessness began to sink in, you began to cry, “Please just let me go, we can forget this ever happ-”

“You will not leave,” Leona growled, “You are our mate. And if anyone tries to take you away…”

You gulped at the insinuation. 

Ruggie moved closer and brushed a stray tear from your cheek, “Don’t cry. We take good care of you, promise. You won’t worry ever again.”

The vast savannah, once one of your favorite parts of the zoo, now felt like a huge, hot cage.

You were no longer a researcher to them. That much was clear.

And there was no escape from the lion’s den.

[spicy-apple-pie]

Get ready for another episode of…

Spicy Smashing Two Pieces of Media Together in a Crossover!!

Today we have…

Batman and Gravity Falls!!

Okay, so picture this.

The Pine Twins are on a school field trip to Gotham/Wayne Enterprises. Dipper, wanting to fill out his own journal at this point, convinces Mabel to seek away.

“What? You want to hunt down Batman?” Mabel asks.

“Not Batman. Manbats.” Dipper holds up a rough sketch of a bat human hybrid. “There’s been rumours about them. People mistaking them for the actual Batman only to get their face scratched off.” Dipper closes the journal. “Too bad we would only be able to talk to some locals. Obviously they only come out at night, but we’re already in so much trouble for bringing home Waddles.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad.” Mabel mopes. “I wish I could stay to lay my eyes open Nightwing’s Spandexed butt.”

Dipper pats her back sympathetically, “Hey, maybe we’ll get to see Signal’s spandexed butt.”

Mabel then rambles how Signal’s butt falls on her scale of vigilante butts. Pretty high up there tbh.

And then for plot reasons they stay out too late and not only see a Manbat, but also the Batman.

While Batman is figuring out a way to get them home safe, they over hear another investigation going on. Something with dimensions, portals, but most importantly triangles.

They struggle to convince the bats that they need the twin’s help. Until they mention Gravity Falls.

Gravity Falls was an anomaly to the Justice League. They’re aware something catastrophic happened but unsure what or why it went away. They have practically nothing to go off too. Townsfolk are committed to not acknowledging anything happened.

After seeing proof that the twins were there at the time of the incident, Batman decides to let them help.

“Well, uh, it’s hard to explain. My Great Uncle Ford knows the most about it, but he’s a little hard to reach right now…” Dipper fidgets, suddenly aware that BATMAN AND CO are counting on him for info.

“What about that thing that he gave us!” Mabel exclaimed. “The cellphone thing!”

“The cellphone thing?” Robin asks, skeptical of their whole story.

“It’s like this super phone that can reach our Grunkles in the arctic.” Mabel explained, searching her brother’s pocket’s

“But he said that we should only use it in case of an emergency.” Dipper swats Mabel’s hands away.

“Dipper. Bill Cipher is potentially back. How is this not an emergency!?”

Yeah, anyway I think it would be cute. Also Soos and Wendy are there. Soos because he’s sworn to always help and protect the Pines and he takes it very seriously. And Wendy because she doesn’t want to miss out on the action.