#but she kept trying to escape

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Astarion and Karlach are perfect foils showing how trauma from having autonomy ripped from you, your body forcibly changed, and then used as a pawn serving a master can present wildly different, but still with that same under layer of RAGE.

[writingamongther0ses]

The New Pet

Summary: Zavir is having a very rough day. The warlord's pet is probably having a worse one- at least they have a giant monster to befriend. Based on @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt of Galaxies Away. It was either this or aliens deal with Earth's oceans.

Today was a horrible day for Zavir.

Scratch that, it had been a horrible month. Starting when he had been told- he hadn't even volunteered, he had been told like he was a common soldier- that he was going to be sneaking onto the ship of the most feared warlord in the universe.

To be fair, Pix Gui Haban was in a good mood. It was dangerous when he was in a good mood. That was when he wiped out species. Zavir's mission was to sneak on board and where and when Haban was attacking next. The part that was kept quiet was figuring out why the warlord was in a good mood.

There could be a few reasons. One, the Light just shone down on Haban. Two, Haban had just succeeded in a new conquest and the good mood lingered. The third was most horrifying.

Gui Haban could be in a good mood because he got a new pet.

Generally, new pets weren't a problem. Most species in the universe liked having animal companionship. The issue with Haban's pets, however, was that the Pix's pets were people.

Haban liked to kidnap members of rare or dying races and keep them until he got bored. Only four had ever escaped Haban's grasp, and that included Haban's sister, Gui Ava. Their stories were horrifying. Zavir's stomach turned whenever one let out a new piece of info.

So, yeah. The secret part of Zavir's mission was seeing if Haban had kidnapped a new person. If he did, he would have to figure out how to get them out or at least get the information out so the Federation could figure out how to rescue them.

That led into the horrible day.

Sneaking in had been easy. Zavir had trained himself to look like he was meant to be there. The trick was not secretly panicking. The issue was when he had to start poking around and stealing information and then accidentally triggered the alarms.

There was way too many alarms. He knew Gui Haban was a paranoid man, especially considering his species' history of civil war, but this felt like too much even for him.

Either way, guards started rushing around. Zavir flattened himself against the wall, trying to count the number of guards.

Then the wall had opened behind him.

Zavir fell back with a yelp. He should've expected this, considering Haban liked hidden doors. (Ava had complained about it many times, with her brother using them for dramatics or to stalk his prey.) Instead of a hallway, however, he found himself falling down a shaft, his tail aching as it whacked into the walls as he tried to slow his fall. It didn't work-

SPLASH.

Most species were weak to hydrogen hydroxide. Zavir's race, the Selken, were not. But that didn't mean that they liked water. Rather, it was the opposite- hydrogen hydroxide matted and tangled their fur to such a painful degree.

The minute he was submerged, he began to swim up. He looked around as he moved. He could see what looked to be glass, like something at an actual zoo and a feature of the quarters of the "pets". The hydrogen hydroxide meant that there was a few species that could be kept in here.

Then Zavir made the mistake of looking down.

He shrieked the minute he realized he was being stared at. The monster, because his frazzled mind couldn't think of what species it was, was huge. It stared at him with huge, beady eyes, like it was considering whether or not to eat him. That was all he could take in because the hydrogen hydroxide was rushing into his open mouth, of shit he was going to-

SPLASH!

He barely felt hands grab his arms and yank him up. In his daze, he thought he saw one of those hands move forward and make...make...make...okay, he was hallucinating. There was no way someone was stupid enough to shoo a giant monster.

Then his head breached the surface.

The person he hallucinated shooing grabbed his collar and started dragging him along. Zavir barely felt his back hit something soft in his haze.

The last thing he saw was green eyes, staring at him with concern, and then the silver collar she wore, the tag announcing her planet and species. His last thing was well, guess we know he got a new pet.

What was a human?

[shannonsketches]

Z-Crew in a competitive escape room scenario in which they have to use teams but Vegeta and Bulma are not allowed to team up for several reasons so they both immediately call dibs on Gohan but he teams up with Piccolo while they’re arguing over who gets him so Geets volunteers Goku to Bulma’s team and picks up Krillin and runs away before she can say no

[boudicca]

took the train to the comic book store after class and got to pet a little puppy who was inside :^) and my prof gave me an extension. good day so far!!!

[thegreatestheaver]

sometimes I think about the fact that one of my homestuck troll ocs is canonically spayed like why did I do that what was going on in my head

[bmpmp3]

my inability to play mobile games nowadays is also a source of suffering as a person who loves rhythm games. i miss her (SIF1).....

[woodfrogs]

first monarch of the year released! she was in chrysalis for 13 days and eclosed really quickly (i checked in on her at sunrise and she was still green then surprise! butterfly time.) monarchs emerge all wrinkly and pump fluid through their wings to spread them out, then let any excess drip out. her wings were already ready but she wasnt crawling around so it hadnt been too long since she eclosed, and when i picked her up she did drip a bit on me lmao.

i wanted to get her on a flower asap since i didnt know how long it had been and she was refusing to go on the one i offered her. so i just took her outside. its windy out so she was a bit uncertain, but as soon as i put her on a dandelion she took off and flew into an apple tree! i guess she found the flower too unstable. i lost track of her trying to get a better angle :( but the wind is pushing her towards a field with lots of clover and goldenrod.

godspeed little butterfly. i hope you make it all the way to mexico!

[sharkzippo]

thinking about the new x-factor again because i was just reminded how pyro and cecilia reyes have met before, when she saved his life back in the 80s. and since pyro is on this “redeemed” streak, i hope at some point they bring up how he repaid her by lying to her face, taking advantage of her empathy and betraying her without a second thought, which resulted in her getting fired from her job and giving in to joining the x-men ( which eventually came with it’s own terrible consequences, as it always does ). basically i just want pyro’s redemption to not feel as hollow as it does. i think that could be fun.

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[meatriarch]

im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.

[meatriarchived]

i did not sleep yay for me im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.

[melonisopod]

The problem with publishing my WIPs on AO3 is that most of them are tied to my Fate AU with my Mastersona OC and I don't really have anything together for that like an overview or a ref sheet or a profile because my life is a mess and also I've been kind of changing it a bit over the years.

[itsyourcoffinnowmylove]

Marius acting like he has the most difficult and sacred task out of all the vampires when he just took it upon himself one day to kidnap and hold two immobile people hostage in his basement for thousands of years has to be one of my favorite parts in tvc

[forbodium]

today is my big exercise day for the week apparently

first i cut the grass in the afternoon and then found a collared cat in the backyard and she was really sweet but she ran as soon as her mom came to pick her up, so we chased her around until she got tired enough that i could grab her

[rhaenyratargeryn]

Getting way too caught up in my headcanon of a scion of a noble loth house, taken hostage as a child and managing to escape her captors and flee into the depths of the Underdark to what could only be certain death for one so young... spending days terrified and going sick with hunger.

And then a light shines through the rocks. Silver, and dim compared to the light of the sun she has never seen, but so bright compared to the darkness she has known. The light calls to her, guides her to a path that orientates her and enables her to find her way home-- passing a test she didn't even know existed. An unlikely pair... a goddess of moon and stars and a drow child who had never seen either. Blessed not with eyes of crimson, but eyes of the clearest opal.

She takes a new name in defiance of what her people call her. Cursed. Excommunicated.

Anathema.

[bixy]

There's no way to say this without sounding weird but I think my most attractive/hottest friends are the worst communicators because they'll do whatever but people always forgive them no matter what just bc they're hot

(also when i mean hot i mean generic normie hot that’s kinda bland to me but a lot of people are into and men throw themselves at)