#Hunt Live Prey

[subbalakshmisastry]

WHITE TIGER VS BENGAL TIGER

[mishacakes]

sometimes different hyperfixations roil around in your head and you go “hmmm how can i combine these”. also sometimes ur like “damn this visual is cool” and have to exorcise it like a demon

[chocolatepyrusart]

Swim at Your Own Risk

[cardworksartblog]

"To be praised by carnality and hunger incarnate...

... is to doom yourself to following it's teachings."

[lesbiten]

people be like wahhhh coyotes are so evil and terrible they kill your dog/cat/kid

brother why was your dog/cat/kid outside unsupervised when you live in an area with a high population of coyotes

[coockie8]

My issue with the mentality of just keeping any cat you come across that happened to be outside, is not every fucking cat you see outside is a fully outdoor, or even just an indoor/outdoor cat.

Like this obviously doesn't pertain to people who find a cat outside and then actually look for the owner, but I see way too many posts from people who found a cat outside, instantly assumed it was a stray or an outdoor cat, and just fucking kept it, without even bothering to try to find a potential owner.

Sometimes fully indoor cats get out, and actually yeah, you are just an asshole fully stealing someone's lost pet.

Maybe their people where moving in or out, and the cat slipped out. Maybe this cat usually gets walked, but slipped out of the harness (this has happened to me, luckily my cat went fully brain dead as soon as she was loose and I was able to catch her), maybe they did move, and the cat escaped to try and find its way "home". Any number of things could have happened, and you literally can't fucking know!

But no, not every single cat you see outside is available for you to just take home and keep!

[lesbianuhaulindustrialcomplex]

someone in my city is currently trying to say in our city subreddit that we have a "cat serial killer" on the loose. is the name of this serial killer perhaps coyotes and cars.

[wizard-eater]

do you vore wizards.Are uou a Wizard Vorer

That's a good question! Now onto our next question

[cubicpeebles]

Fun Fact!: The webs of Rot surrounding Spool's can aren't strong enough to consume creatures on their own, meaning that Spool usually comes to finish the job!

[lassieposting]

God though

There are multiple references to "the General" building the Little Palace as a safe haven for Grisha. As in this General, General Kirigan, not a previous persona of Aleksander's from a long time ago.

So the Little Palace must be fairly recent? Within Kirigan's believable lifetime. So it hasn't really been that long since Grisha were living in hiding, or in tiny hidden villages, or whatever. Outside of his time in the army - throughout various lives - this is probably the most people he's ever had living and working and learning around him at one time.

And. If the Little Palace is where all the new baby Grisha are brought to grow up and study, and it's also where he lives and works most of the time, he's going to cross paths with the children a lot.

I love the idea that sometimes he's just. Accosted, by small Grisha. In the hallways or the gardens. Because the Little Palace is safe, and they're too young to remember how it was before, how dangerous it would've been for them. And the Black General is feared and respected and hated in equal measure at court and across the borders, but these children, growing up under his protection, have no fear of him at all, even as a near-stranger. To them anyone in a kefta is part of their family.

And like. This is bizarre beyond belief for him - for all the adult Grisha who grew up before he made a deal with the King - at first. Baghra beat it into him young that he should never trust anyone, not even other Grisha, for desperate men will do terrible things to survive. Always a litany of rules to keep him safe, to stay one step ahead of the otkazatsya. Don't tell them your name. Don't summon where they might see you. Don't wander too far or the Druskelle will snatch you. Don't let anyone touch you, or they'll kill you for your bones. Love no one, boy, it makes you weak.

And now, suddenly, that is over. These children will never know that fear, will never understand what it is to be hunted for existing, with nowhere safe to turn. They will always have a bolt hole to return to, in the Little Palace. And he finds that he doesn't really know how to deal with that - with how much more trusting it makes them.

A procession of small children passes him in the corridor as he's talking to Ivan, and a little girl at the end of the line stops to tug at the sleeve of his jacket. When he looks down, she holds up a tiny flame cupped in her hand like she wants to give it to him to hold. Her front teeth are missing. I can make it by myself now, she announces through a thick lisp. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to close his hand over hers, quash that flame and hiss at her the same reproach he'd always get when he used his abilities somewhere he could be seen, where he could've put them both at risk. He has to remind himself that that was a different world, and a fear this girl will never truly understand. He blinks, and his throat feels dry and scratchy when he manages to choke out, Well...well done. Keep, uh. Practicing. As the child darts away after her classmates, he meets Ivan's eyes, as wary and mistrustful as his own, and can tell he's thinking the same thing.

He loses count, over the decades, of the number of children who shyly sidle up to him to ask him questions. He's used to being the subject of curiosity, at court. He's used to being feared, too. Hated. But these young Grisha, their curiosity is untainted, friendly even. You're General Kirigan, aren't you? Is it true you can summon shadows? What's your horse's name? How many battles have you won? My pa's First Army, an' he says he would'a never come back from Ryevost if you didn't come help 'em, so...thank you. Do you really get to go to the Grand Palace and see the king?

Alina finds a drawing hidden among a stack of papers in the top drawer of Kirigan's desk - a smiling boy surrounded by a sea of happy people in blue and red and purple, and a single figure in black. The words My Famlee have been painstakingly scrawled in a top corner in a very young child's shaky hand. The parchment is yellowed with age and battered around the edges, the colours have faded - this picture is old, certainly old enough that the child who made it must be a child no longer. She's never thought of Aleksander as someone sentimental enough to keep a child's picture; she's far too young to have any idea how it twisted up his insides, a bittersweet kind of grief, to see young Grisha feeling safe and happy and valued as he never had. The precious result of a lifetime of struggle and sacrifice. A reminder of what he'd achieved for his people, made for him by a boy with no idea of the trauma he'd been spared.

Fedyor tells Alina a story over drinks one evening, about the time a misplaced toddler from the creche wandered into the war room, and Kirigan conducted half of a morning briefing while valiantly trying to ignore their attempts to climb onto his lap, before giving in and spending the other half stiff-backed and tense with the little wretch on his knee, happily colouring in a map of Ravka so messily it had made the muscle in Kirigan's jaw twitch. Does him good to get pushed out of his comfort zone once in a while, he tells her. Reminds him he's human.

A kid falls over in the courtyard and starts to cry, and Alina goes over to pick them up and dust them off and give them a hug, because she's done her share of helping out with the younger kids back at the orphanage. She's no stranger to a scuffed knee. Aleksander follows behind her to hover at her shoulder, like he doesn't know what he ought to do, while the child sniffles into their sleeve and Alina tidies their hair. She feels him move behind her, and the child suddenly bleats out a laugh, high and delighted. He's crouched down like she is, his hand outstretched, and a little horse figure made of shadows is gambolling in the air inches above his palm. The child is transfixed, scraped knee forgotten. He glances over at her, eyebrow raised, and she gets the strangest feeling he's looking for her approval, confirmation that he reacted correctly.

You make me a better man, he told her once, as though she was the only person ever to have that effect on him.

She isn't. She sees it, even if he doesn't. The Grisha he's protecting make him a better man, too.

Just. Local scary shadow-summoner army general completely bewildered by friendly kids, more at 11

[dogcollarpunk]

my life really got so much more pleasant once I started my anxiety medication.. like insanely.

[mothwiingz]

seaspark cat version

whats sharkstar doing with that scruffy ass rogue!!

[slverblood]

Have we considered . . . Ketheric but with themes of the wild hunt, hunting any would-be Justiciars or do-gooding Selûnites who attempt to enter Reithwin?

[preywhore]

Hey ha ha you're super cute, do you wanna follow me out into the woods? Promise I'll go slow enough so you can keep up, don't worry about all the rustling and snarling noises it's probably just some squirrels or something~♡

What a great idea!! 😍 I’m gonna go reaaaaaally deep where no one could possibly hear me scream just for fun since it’s so pretty and safe in the woods… the squirrels are rlly getting bigger every year huh

[sympathywiththought]

These deep longings,

these dreams I house within my mind and soul;

Neglected, never carried out.

They're coming for me like hungry wolves, like spreading forest fire, like sharks after blood;

And I, in my fear, absurdly,

think of a cage instead of wings.

𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐯𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞, Live and Die and The In Between

[toadstool32]

Sleepytime accidentally became just listened to haatos song buta and I'm extremely wired to fuck shit up but I'm bed bound and I have class tomorrow. Need to play holocure I abandoned my haatons to starve