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keferon · 5 months ago

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Part 2 of Jazz and Prowl in space!

Gonna start calling it Odds of Survival.

Prowl loves entrusting his life to reckless strangers.

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Prowl pulled the release to the airlock and the music was swallowed by the vacuum of space.

Bursting forward, Jazz launched outwards riding the pop of escaping air. The first quintesson had its eye socket repurposed as an ankle bracelet before the second measure even began.

Ah.

Prowl probably should have specified he wanted to try speeding past rather than confront their opponents directly.

Jazz's improvised footwear writhed sluggishly before the mech twisted his ped inside its brain case, finishing it off and turning to face the next nearest opponent.

Odds of survival 26%

The white and blue mech launched himself upwards as the nearest quintesson went for a dive bomb. It's teeth breaking on impact with the sky bridge. Jazz twisted in midair.

They fell in slow motion, back arching against a starlit backdrop. An upside down visor met blue optics. Jazz nodded his head to the side, flicking one horn up and one horn down.

Did he just wink? (#^%)

The falling mech unsheathed a blade from his wrist, driving it through the sputtering quintesson.

Oh Primus has he been flirting the entire time?

Jazz spun, slicing into the next quint to close the distance.

I can not. I can not assume that was intentional. It has to be a cultural miscommunication.

The last two quintessons pounced. Swinging hard, Jazz caught one's jaws with a forearm while he kicked the downed another in the side of the head. The third was attempting to bite into his back but the teeth couldn't get a full purchase on the rounded compact plating.

Odds of survival 22%.

Prowl snapped out of his social etiquette downward spiral. Sprinting from the safety of the airlock door, he knelt behind a large section of external piping, lining up his shots.

Tacnet spun to work.

It was designed to calculate hundreds of possible variations of large scale engagements, including the number of soldiers, type of weaponry available and could even determine the approximate number of ammunitions that would be left over, provided Prowl had enough data at his disposal.

Calculating the marksmanship needed to dispatch three hostiles at medium range while distracted by a highly competent ally?

Odds of Survival 32%

Laughable.

Three shots burst through the thin atmosphere.

Quintesson wreckers were built thick skulled and stubborn. Luckily they came with easily identifiable gaps in their organic construction.

The Quints fell from Jazz, each with a smoking hole where and eye used to be. Jazz looked at Prowl, then the smoking quintessons and back up to Prowl before doing finger guns again.

Speaking of thick skulled and stubborn.

Prowl put on his best Commanders Scowl and pointed in the direction they needed to be currently running in.

Doorwing sensors hiked as he picked up on movement from behind. The incoming hostiles was palpable even in the moons thin atmosphere. Quintessons rarely favored stealth.

Prowl began running.

Jazz kept pace, half turned around to keep track of the incoming troop. Prowl kept his optics locked forward, not remotely willing to risk tripping on the torn apart path.

Tacnet locked on to a large silvery pillow that'd been exposed to the atmosphere.

Expanding LLX Lithium battery. Explosion on contact 90%

Prowl shouted a warning but the air was too thin to carry beyond his own audials.

Jazz will step on the lithium battery in 1.5 clicks (88%) and will be critically injured in at least one leg (76%).

Prowl grabbed Jazz's servo and yanked.

Music erupted in the moment of connection.

Vibrations ran up his arm and across his frame. Inside his audials, Prowl could make out the song Jazz had begun in the airlock. Looking at his visor, mouth agape, only one thought could form in Prowls mind.

How fragging loud is he playing that music?!?

Jazz perked up, and pulled Prowl around in an arc. Multiple sharp impacts thudded into the ground behind him. Prowl turned and almost wished he hadn’t.

Three heavily armored Quintesson bombers equipped with bio-mechanical ballista.

The javelin like spikes were as long as Prowls arm and designed to pin targets in place while the slow moving blimp-like body of the bomber got into position to blow them all to the Pit.

Prowl tugged Jazz in the direction of their objective, refusing to let go in case he tried to launch himself at the bombers. Prowl wasn't sure how Jazz would manage to do so, but Prowl felt an overwhelming nagging sensation in his tanks that he'd fragging try.

Jazz was evidently fine with this arrangement.

As the music pulsed between their palms, Jazz leapt at a diagonal, pulling Prowl along for the ride. The low gravity was so damn floaty. It continually forced Prowl to readjust his footing so he wasn't frantically treading air every time his peds left the ground.

Jazz was evidently fine with that too.

Another round of ammunitions impacted where the two of them had been running.

Their egress began to take on a pattern Prowl was quick to pick up on. It took the bombers 8 clicks to reload, launching at the same time, half a click after musical flair in Jazz's song. At the moment of the flair, the mech would launch them in a nearly unpredictable pattern. After the first two times of nearly getting his arm dislocated, Prowl began catching onto these moments and moved his momentum in sync with Jazz.

They'd started dancing.

The Tactician had an iron fisted focus on matching Jazz’s frankly eradicate lead. The longer the duet continued, the more data he had to work with. Prowl steadily progressed from Reacting to Anticipating. Feeling a core deep satisfaction that came from sinking into mastering a new skill.

By the time they’d escaped the bombers range, they’d made it too the base of the first hurdle.

Their reprieve would only be brief. The bombers would catch up in approximately 50 clicks (88%), giving the mechs a small window of precious semi-safety in which they needed to scale the wall before them.

Prowl craned his helm back at the barrier.

He would not be able to scale it on his own in time (95%).

Could Jazz? (65%)

While carrying him? (19%)

Jazz rapidly tapped his side.

The alien was crouched low, impossible legs bent with potential energy. He tapped his own back, gesturing for Prowl to grab on already.

Prowl threw himself over the mechs broad back. His digits frantically searched for a hand hold, flinching away from nearly digging into fragile vents.

I can’t-

Jazz leapt.

“You’re really grab-able - Isn’t that kinda stupid?”

Stupid stupid stupid.

Prowl skated off of Jazz’s rounded compact plating, that he specifically SAID was supposed to make him hard to hold on to.

He landed hard on his aft, denta clanking together painfully.

47 clicks remaining.

Jazz hit the ground beside him before Prowl had fully gotten back up. Now facing him, Jazz grabbed Prowl by both wrists and pulled him chassis to chassis. Jazz positioned his arms to link Prowls servos behind his helm, then set his own servos tightly onto Prowls waist.

Jazz nodded once, like he was satisfied with what he’d just done.

Prowl made a facial expression that a psychiatrist would find concerning.

42 Clicks.

Jazz nodded again, like expected Prowl to respond in any coherent manner, and lifted.

Prowls legs swung forward on instinct. Following the motion, Jazz wrapped them around his waist. Through the screaming haze of his processor, Prowl had the presence of mind to lock his ankles together as he realized Jazz’s true intentions, and manually aborted the logic cascade that had nearly crashed over him.

Package secured, Jazz let go and started their ascension.

Legs bent at an impossible angle to slam multi segmented peds flat against the metal walls. Despite Prowl’s body blocking most of his view, the alien mech was unfettered by the lack of vision. Jazz hardly bothered with proper hand holds, instead opting for incredibly strong magnetic grip built into his servos.

The magnetic backwash splashed over Prowls doors wings, forcing him to temporarily offline them or risk crippling vertigo. The structure they were scaling shook violently like something large had just irrevocably broken.

This is fine this is fine this is fine this is fine.

At 35 click’s remaining, Prowl centered himself enough to search for their pursuers.

Damn it!

The bombers were a fraction faster than he initially calculated. Six clicks before we’re in range (87%). Luckily, Jazz was more than a fraction faster than initially calculated as well. At this rate, they’d reach the top simultaneously.

No reason not to be proactive.

Prowl found that if he tightly cupped one servo around the back of Jazz’s helm, he had just enough leverage to bring out a side arm. After all, the bombers were already in range of him.

Steadying his elbow over the other mechs shoulder, Prowl took aim.

Five clicks.

The bombers flew in V formation.

Four clicks.

Too heavily armored for a standard sidearm to pierce.

Three clicks.

The lead bomber opened up its front in preparation for combat.

Got you.

Prowl threaded the gap, his shot skirting over the ballista in favor of impacting the bombers prodigious cargo. He watched something spark inside a split second before it succumbed to total annihilation.

The shockwave felt like a single soft papft of a breeze in the starlit air.

Jazz hefted them over the top of the wall, not dropping Prowl in favor of sprinting with him at full speed across the top of the hurdle.

One of his arms curled around to support Prowls back, allowing the Praxian to release his death grip on their helm. Prowl leaned back into the hold, allowing Jazz freedom to see again.

Jazz turned his helm around 180 degrees-

Did not know he could do that did not know he could do that.

- to look at the fire works behind them.

Jazz whistled appreciatively at the sight. He turned back to Prowl, visor locked onto his face as they carried him across the roof.

Reverberating music, nearly crashing, numbed doorwings, and a deeply satisfying kill all followed by a display of casual body horror was making Prowl just a little bit delirious. As a result, Prowl wasn’t entirely sure what expression he was making, just that Jazz was inordinately fascinated with it.

Without looking away, Jazz leapt off the end of the roof.

Prowl watched as Jazz glanced over his shoulder and back to him.

Do a double take.

And then crush Prowl to his chassis.

Jazz’s visor was over bright, both horns snapped completely forward and from somewhere inside his chassis, Prowl could feel some internal component spinning into overdrive, sounding for all the world like teeny tiny screaming.

Why are we still falling.

Prowl turned as far as possible in Jazz’s iron grip.

The sky bridge was collapsing.

Odds of Survival 4%

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Jazz, everytime Prowl one-shots an enemy: I need to get his number.

If you’re curious, the song Jazz is playing can be whatever you like. Personally I kept switching between listening to “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by Kiss and “I Feel Love” 12” version by Donna Summer while writing.

- SSTP

OH GOD AHAHJFKFK THIS IS SO FUCKING GREAT HELP

And the concept of music playing between them??? I'm s o l d. "I was made for lovin' you baby" is basically JP OST for me at this point ehehhmgmgm

Jazz: Hookay I need to transport the machinery from the point A to point B. Focus! Let's go!

Prowl: One of those tiktok videos where you can see some Reddit post and hear AI narrating it while Minecraft parkour is playing on the background. Except it's gay panic instead of reddit post and internal screaming instead of narration and even more gay panic instead of minecraft. ......and everything is overheating probably lmao

Also can you really call it a JP fic if their odds of survival never dropped lower than 10% according to Prowls brain? Ahahjgkgk all amazing JP fics have to do this. It's inevitable and I love it so much~~

#You made me think of like....#Jazz is impossible to grab unless he wants you to grab him #so whenever Prowl wants to hold/grab/stop him he can do that because Jazz lets him. Like he feels a hand touching his shoulder and stops #or smth #while Prowl is very grabbable and Jazz could just yank him by literally any part of his body lol #Cybertronians made of metal plates with pretty wide gaps between them #also often placed in layers #so Jazz could just stick his fingers literally anywhere and ta daaah~ perfect holder #....well if we don't count the fact that sticking your hands under someone's plates is extremely intimate gesture for those you're close wit #or doctors #where do I lead with this thought #idk. I just think it's funny. Cultural miscommunication do be extremely gay flavored in mecha universe what can I say #mecha writing #mecha jp writing #mecha pilot jazz au #jazz #prowl #jazzprowl

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whenthelightisrunninglow · 2 months ago

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how's the other guy holding up

#submas #emmet #sketches #//#submas angst #this JUST in you can draw fanart .#THEY DON'T TELL YOU THIS BUT YOU REALLY CAN JUST POST LIKE. MOSTLY UNFINISHED DRAWINGS THAT ONLY CONVEY SOME OF WHAT YOU MEAN. AT 4 AM !#see it's very hard for me because i have a lot of serious THOUGHTS about these characters but #not the patience for the necessary care that would go into drawing them properly. or writing fanfiction long enough to get the point across #either way #i have a lot of thoughts on pretty much every aspect of how i think everything happens for SOME reason but I PERSONALLY #i personally think that emmet would take leave from work #maybe i will make a proper post about this another time but i was like #thinking just about. as much as he loves his job. he loved it when he was doing half a job built for 2 people. and the other person #was one of his favourites in the world #i don't think it would really bring him any sense of normalcy. to go do his job alone #and i don't think that keeping gear station in optimal working condition ''for when ingo gets back'' would necessarily be his top priority #the priority rather would be to try and get him back LOL #and it's important to ME that emmet actually succeeds in this #for a variety of reasons. but it's 4:30 am and i'm a little too tired to get into the intricacies of my imaginary reunion scenario #this is unrelated to that but i have also been thinking about like. i bet emmet would hate condolences #my friend said something that made me think about this a while ago but y'know #''i'm sorry for your loss'' do you literally not know that he likes winning more than anything else 🙄#anyways that's enough of that. i have more to say but maybe not in the tags. and another time

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wordsofwhimsy · 4 months ago

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𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚎𝚜 & 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 - 𝙿𝚝. 2

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】 ⦂ Fluff, romance, & slight!tragedy

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ None

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ “Forrest Gump” by Frank Ocean

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

♫♪ This is love, I know it’s true… ♫♪

Mornings had always been hard for you. Most days you struggled to even open your eyes, let alone get out of bed. As a young teenager you mother had told you this was a sign of depression. You of course, being a teenager, brushed off her concern. It took several years for you to come to the same conclusion on your own.

Mornings with Mark were different.

The sun seemed softer, warmer, dripping through the blinds like honey. The songbirds were a melodious symphony that gave you a sense of peace. Your mind was blank as you slowly blinked into consciousness. Mark’s sleeping form was the first thing you clearly saw as your vision came to focus. He was laid on his side turned towards you, lips slightly parted, and his face completely relaxed. He was beautiful, and you were in love. Unable to help yourself, and perhaps even unaware of your own actions, your fingers reached out to trace slowly over his shirtless chest. They moved gingerly over the plains of his abdomen, dipping into the valley between his pecks, and skirting along his defined collarbones. In synch with your fingers finding his jaw, you leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

Mark’s arms snaked around you in response, pulling you into a languid yet strong embrace. His mouth moved against yours, melting you into a puddle on his bed. “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you murmured against his lips.

“No, no,” he assured between quick, soft kisses. Then he paused and added, “Well, maybe.” You rolled your eyes and pushed playfully away from him. Chuckling he and pulled you back in, keeping you close. “Wait no I’m kidding, come back.” You immediately gave up the fight and settled comfortably back into his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, and in that quiet moment you wished it could last forever. That was until you felt a pang of hunger curdle in your stomach. Knowing that an embarrassing growl was just around the corner, you asked,

“Would you want to go get breakfast?”

“That sounds good,” he responded, burying another kiss into your messy bedhead. “Get ready. I know the perfect place.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Konnichiwa!” A woman of small frame and jet black hair stood at your table side, a toothy grin painting her face.

“Konnichiwa,” you greet back with a small awkward chuckle.

“Are you Americans?” the woman asked, head slightly cocked to the side.

“We are—sorry, we don’t know Japanese.” You threw a quick glance to Mark whose eyes were fixed on you.

“That’s okay~” the waitress responded promptly in a singsong tone. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the pancakes.”

“I’ll do the tamagoyaki [a/n: this is a “sweet and savory omelette” that is a traditional breakfast option in Japan], please,” Mark added, his stare only now moving to look at the waitress.

“Hai!” She gave a slight bow before heading off to presumably ring in your order. Waiting to be sure the waitress was out of earshot you finally looked to Mark with an incredulous expression.

“Y’know, this is definitely not what I had in mind when I suggested breakfast.” He flashed his pearly whites at you, apparently pleased with his choice.

“Trust me, Japan really has breakfast figured out.” You chuckled before taking a sip of your water. “My mom and I come here sometimes.” The unspoken question on your mind: did your father come too? Instead, you say,

“Debbie makes some of the best pancakes, I’ll have to see if this place can stack up.”

“Pun intended?” Mark laughed.

“In all seriousness, I’ve never been to Japan before. Tokyo is gorgeous!” He hummed in agreeance.

“You should see the countryside.”

“If it’s anything like it is in anime’s I can only imagine.”

“Honestly? It’s pretty close.” Your foot bounced under the table, still shaking off the jitters from the flight here. You took another sip of water, dehydrated from the adrenaline rush. Mark’s broken face came into view as you put the glass back down. He tried to hide it, but you knew him well, and his pain spoke to you even in the silence. Uncrossing your legs you slipped your foot from the sandal you were wearing and reached out to rub your toes over calf. This seemed to bring him back to you, his body tensing for a moment then relaxing. “I’m excited for you to try these hotcakes. I’m telling you they are kind of ridiculously fluffy. It’s like eating a cloud.”

You laughed, eliciting a grin from him. “Well now I’m really excited.” Your morning continued on in this fashion, conversation staying to lighthearted subjects and an obvious all together avoidance of what happened yesterday. A part of you wondered if he chose to eat on the opposite side of the planet in an attempt to avoid hearing any news stories or strangers’ conversations relating to the matter. The thought alone left your heart burning in your chest. As desperately as you wanted to talk to him and find out the details of the event, you would leave the ball in his court and wait patiently for him to be ready to open up.

Instead, you offered him wordless comfort in the small gestures of connection as you sat there together. Rubbing your foot against his leg under the table, reaching over with your hand to rest on top of his, placing a kiss to the top of his head when coming back from the restroom. It was the best you could give him, and though they seemed insignificant to you, they meant the world to Mark. They were all he needed in that moment.

“Okay, don’t tell Debbie, but that might have been the best pancake I’ve ever had,” you confessed, leaning back in your seat with your hands placed on your stomach in dramatic effect. Mark’s face lit up.

“I told you! It doesn’t even make sense how good they are.” You laughed at his excitement.

“Speaking of Debbie, is she working today?” The joy melted quickly from his face, and yours mirrored the same emotion.

“I doubt it. I should probably go see how she’s doing…” You stayed silent but nodded your head in agreement. Having paid the tab a few minutes prior, you both stood from the table and headed back to the small alley you’d landed in. “Ready?” he asked, you now cradled in his arms with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Mhmm.” You both move in synch towards each other, kissing slowly and deeply. The feeling of his lips against yours never ceased to put butterflies in your chest, your toes coming to a point in pure bliss. Your mouths moved together, complimenting one another effortlessly. His tongue skimmed along your bottom lip but then pulled away shyly, sending chills down your spin. By the time you broke away for air you were already high above the ground and moving just below the clouds. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, still unable to handle the height after all this time.

Instead of thinking of how far up you were, you focused on the feeling of weightlessness you had when held in his arms. For all his strength and otherworldly capabilities, he treated you like a delicate flower. Doing his best to offer you the world while forever being mindful of your fragility. He always kept you so secure, and flying like this in his arms left you with a feeling of almost ethereality.

Unknown to you, this feeling was requited in Mark – only he felt the weightlessness in his mind and heart. He could never let you go, and had resolved long ago that you would be apart of his life forever. Even in the centuries to come where you were dead and gone, you would live on eternally in his heart.

♫♪ I won’t forget you. ♫♪

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible show #invincible fandom #fluff #mark graryson fanfic #I literally have so many fanfic ideas in my head lmfaoo #but no time to write them 🙃#if anyone's got an requests for a Mark x Reader fanfic I'm here for it!#Can be any type of reader #but it's gotta be Mark #Sorry to all the rest of the cast - they're great!#But they don't get my gears going like my guy

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sunlight-shunlight · 29 days ago

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suddenly sitting up awake at 12am: i think thedas has a genre of memento mori types of paintings, where they put a skull in with some fancy still life stuff to indicate that the patron/artist is wealthy, but also Pious and thinking about Inevitable Death rather than material things (even though they're lovingly rendering all the silverware and expensive fruits and lace tablecloths or whatever)

BUT. since andraste is associated with fire, this is done by including like a lit candle or an urn of ashes or something in the composition, to show the piety and focus on the impermanence of life! i think this would be common in orlais especially. presumably tevinter is trying not to play up the "whoops we turned the saviour into a burnt kebab :)" angle in their religion, so they'd have... idk. a knife or something? to indicate the sword of mercy as the pious symbol of death rather than the fire itself?

#txt #i feel like a skull wouldn't be a common thedas symbol of mortality (in the positive and maker honouring sense)#bc of all the... corpse possessions...#it would have a very nefarious association #so ashes/a fire would be their way of indicating that idea #bro i'm so sad that dragon age is over and they stopped their in-universe history focus #we could've had thedas andreas maler 😭#the thing to know about me is that if any video game has Paintings in it i'm just constantly looking at them #out of my way enemies. this is an art gallery to me.#i will slaughter 5636 darkspawn or guards or whoever is standing between me and Picture #i just think it's really neat to consider the material culture and art forms within fictional settings like that #i want to see... horrible pretentious orlesian art salons.............#imagine the drama #also in thedas you CAN literally make a deal with a demon to get good at painting #so like #imagine the possibilities... haunted paintings? each one literally drags you into a nightmare? some dorian grey shit?#some rival artist tries to frame their competition as an apostate/elf blooded/whatever to win favour??#ough. augh. why did they get into manosphere analogies instead of this #i'm sad now fhdhjdjgjsh #i can excuse all the other writing crimes but i can't believe we never got more thedas art history.....

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pa-pa-plasma · 8 months ago

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I know the concept of more supernatural/paranormal elements is cool but it will never stop being funny to me that in every series ever, when a ghost shows up the main characters have to do rituals & research the history of the haunted item or house or even whole town & use specific items like salt & incense & talisman to banish the ghost all dramatically & supernaturally, but in Danny Phantom this kid just shows up with nothing but his fists, a thermos, & pent up aggression. put em the fuck UP, you ectoplasmic son of a—

#Danny Phantom #i'm watching caped crusader & i can't stop thinking. if Danny was here he would've beaten the shit outta this ghost 5 minutes in #also this is why whenever someone throws a ''who would win Danny or X'' scenario at me i always say Danny if he was being serious #cuz this kid has the perfect combo of superpowers. he only seems like a loser because all his villains ALSO have those powers #if he went up against anyone else & had adhd medication he'd win laughably easy #i know it's easier to write him as so incompetent any normal human villain can take him out despite his powers #but realistically by s2 i feel like unless they have anti-ghost weapons or some kind of mind control going on #they simply could not even touch Danny let alone fend him off or take him down #Danny could literally just possess them for 1 second & when they're having a possession hangover cuff em. easy peasy lemon squeezy

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fatedroses · 2 months ago

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Don’t let his pretty face fool you, that man is snoring his ass off.

#ffxiv #sketch #zenos yae galvus #adventurer zenos #estinien wyrmblood #the chance of Zenos making dad-level noises is rare but never zero #the hunting duo from hell #estinien is zenos’ favorite pillow #the scions can basically just drag this man into their arms to get him to pass the hell out #the inevitable consequence of Zenos offering the chairs to his companions when he’s tall enough to sit/kneel on the floor most of the time #estinien is his first choice because imagine being literally any of the other scions #and this huge ass man starts leaning his entire body weight back against you #behold the pair of anti-social creatures- and good luck separating them #two dudes who bonded over mutual respect of strength and hobbies #one listens to the weird ass food the other tries #and the other listens to the wacky as theories on aether and anthropology #while also planning their next hunt together #I realize that I write them as Estinien basically being an in for Zenos’ to integrate with the rest #whole ass emotional support dragoon right there #neither of them know how they hell they got in this position #they don’t really care regardless lmfao

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yaralulu · 4 months ago

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pre-canon tamcien takes up so much space in my brain it’s not even funny. and i’m not even talking pre-canon like when lucien lost his eye or sm, im talking about when tamlin and lucien were practically two strangers living in the same house. im talking them knowing each other for like a total of one month and awkwardly skirting around one another. tamlin not quite knowing how to talk lucien but wanting to help him anyways. lucien confused as to why a high lord has taken such an interest in his well being but finding himself opening up all the same. their first real talks, the small endearing interactions, the getting-to-know each other stage.

it’s such a random era to be obsessing over like??? why am i thinking about this nonstop

#they’re like worms in my brain #i’m (trying) to write something about this era bc it is one of my favorites to contemplate about #thinking about them healing each other during their time of grief just does something to me (makes me wanna scream)#thinking about tamlin’s kindness especially literally being the reason lucien gets through losing jesminda #like they SAVED each other and i won’t accept any other answer #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #tamcien #pro tamlin #pro lucien vanserra #i think about them a very normal amount can you tell

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justaz · 1 year ago

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arthur (prince of camelot) still has to study under a tutor bc yknow uther wants him to be very intelligent before becoming king or something bc its super important idk idc anyways merlin is doing chores in his chambers while arthur is squinting at a book and merlin eventually caves and asks him what he’s reading and arthur gruffly explains that its a collection of stories from greece that make absolutely no sense so merlin asks him to read them outloud to him. arthur of course teases him and calls him an idiot and asks how he could possibly help but does as he’s asked and reads the stories to merlin as he does his chores. merlin (being crushed under the weight of destiny and tormented by the prophecies that kilgharrah spews) understands the stories almost immediately and gets all excited and starts rambling about them with arthur. arthur is glad to have someone who understands so he can give something that reflects a hint of understanding to his tutor who accepts it and moves onto the next unit of education.

the thing is, arthur finds more stories in camelot’s library and brings them up to his room to read them aloud to merlin under the guise of completing his studies but really he just wants to watch as merlin’s eyes gleam when he understands whats happening and listen to him ramble on and on about them bc he’s gay. the stories stick with merlin though and he realizes that they’re cautionary tales, that the heroes who were told too much of their future doomed themself to fulfill them - that them fighting the prophecies led to their completion. merlin takes it to heart and gives a big “fuck you” to kilgharrah before forging his own fate and helping morgana with her magic and handing out an olive branch to mordred and now everyone can live happily and peacefully in an albion teeming with magic.

#merlin and arthur are of course at each others side in the end #merlin is curled up with arthur in their bed and says a silent thank you to his king for saving him #arthur returns the sentiment wholeheartedly #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #fic idea #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #hc #head canon #merthur prompt #i have my own hc of fate vs destiny in bbc merlin and i like to incorporate that into everything i write #but then i realize that not everyone thinks that way lmao #i like to think that destiny is unavoidable. merlin and arthur are destined to form albion and lead it together #i think fate is like a fragile version of destiny #i think most people are tied to fate and will follow what they are fated to do unless those who arent tied down by fate change course #like i hc that seers are able to see the potential future of what is to happen should they not interfere #and the goddess leaves it up to them to choose. so like seers arent tied down by fate and can change the course of history #since merlin is literally magic incarnate i also think he isnt tied down by fate and can act to change things #kilgharrah told merlin the prophecy that would result in the dragon getting free and ending the pendragon line #and since merlin never got close w like any druids or magic users. no one told him the inner workings of fate vs destiny #so he listened to the dragons warnings dooming him to fulfill the prophecy that brought about one of the worst possible futures #bc the dragon was salty about his whole species being eradicated by uther and vowed to destroy the pendragon line #omg im ranting okay post over thank you and good night

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popcornkwantum · 1 year ago

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"Jerry is Lincoln's and Scary's biological son, which means teen pregnancy" or "Jerry is adopted"

NO.

It's Scam Likely again

What's the one good thing that Grant and Marco got out of Scams shitty wedding gift? Their son Lincoln. So Scam has learned that the best gift at a wedding is giving someone a child of course

#a few days ago I saw a post in which someone said that Scam is responsible for multiple children in s2 #he made up the prophesy so Hero was born #he sent Grant and Marco to the titanic so they adopted Lincoln #he quite literally brought Hermie into existence #scam likely will always be sCamming children into existence #can you see my vision?#Jerry and any potential family interactions have been spinning in my brain as short fic ideas #i hope to be able to write them and post them soon #i also hope we'll hear more about Jerry in the upcoming teen talk but I doubt it #dndads #dndads s2 #jerry dndads #scam likely

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localvillagecryptid · 4 months ago

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I'm incredibly curious if there are any SVSSS ships that don't exist on AO3 yet. Like, there's a sizeable enough cast that the combinations are pretty large in number, especially if you consider poly ships. Even so, I feel like I've seen every combo under the sun. But is that really true? Is there secretly a ship so batshit out there that no one has even dared to consider it? Inquiring minds would like to know.

#tell me so i can either write it or prompt someone to do it lol #chances are its of like. 2 side characters or something #like i doubt shen yuan has any missing combos bc hes literally the mc everyone wants a piece of him #so its probably the slightly less popualr guys that are missing. anyway im desperately curious guys #svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #tianlang jun #luo binghe #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #zhuzhi lang #yeah i keep staring at the tags and i swear ive seen them all at least once

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pinkseas · 4 months ago

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hi hi hello hiiii

new siffrin & isabeau touch starvation / physical affection centered fic just dropped 🥰🥰🥰

link here if u r interested!!

and have such a lovely day if not 💞💞

#literally @ work so i cant make a proper promo post LMAO #isat #siffrin #can interpret it as isafrin if youd like i simply personally did not have any romantic intent behind writing them #isat fic #realizing ive never posted any of my own isat fics and have no idea how to tag them 💀💀#whagever. good enough go my scarab #aly.writing #aly.fics

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wildstar25 · 1 month ago

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While it goes fairly similarly to how it would in game, there's a lot of backstory related nuance that kinda shifts the entire vibe of their reunion... this is fairly long so im putting it under a read more

When the Exarch told Arsay her next destination would have her hopefully meeting with Y'shtola, Arsay was beyond excited. After the twins, Y'shtola was the next person on Arsay's list that she really, really wanted to see. She rode that enthusiasm through the entire trip into the Great Woods. Not even Emet-Selch's pompous attitude and unwanted presence could cut through Arsay's cheer. Which was likely for the best, had she not have her best friend to look forward to she'd likely have wanted to rip the ascians head off rather than entertain conversation with him.

They found themselves surrounded. Arsay's humour was NOT appreciated by Thancred 🙄. Emet made a show about leaving them to their fate. And then she heard it, the voice Arsay had been wanting to hear all day, though called by a name not her own.

It took a moment for Arsay to process it all: The new look, the fact that all these people seemed to be at her command, her intense hostility... Still, it was Y'shtola! Y'shtola through and through! Arsay's heart nearly jumped into her throat once her brain caught up to her other senses.

(I love how from far away the pixels make it look like Arsay had a big open mouth smile. She was so excited to see her friend! Were she not at multiple arrow/magic staff point she'd be running up to give Y'shtola a hug.)

Arsay thought perhaps this was a prank? A little unlike Y'shtola but then again she did have a darker sense of humour. Plus Y'shtola knows Arsay likes a good gag now and again so maybe...? But sadly Y'shtola again seriously insisted they were sin eaters so that couldn't be the case. Arsay was at a lost for words- a rarity for her.

The mere suggestion that Y'shtola could have forgotten Arsay... her heart deflated like a balloon, all the joy it once held rushed out in an instance. Personally I think Urianger was covering his ass here trying to mask his knowledge of the light corruption. Still there was no way he knew just how devastating his words were to Arsay.

No, Urianger couldn't have known that Arsay had spent much of her life believing herself to have been forgotten by her parents as they left her in the south seas for greater adventures. That they wrote her but a single missive, where in which they promised to write more. He couldn't have know how, when no other letter arrived for her, she took it as a sign of being unwanted; not worth keeping their word for. He wouldn't have known much of what Arsay does, she does in hopes to touch the life of another in such a way that they might dare think of her from time to time, even if only in passing. Urianger wouldn't have a single clue how a simple notion spoken in whisper could send Arsay down an immediate spiral.

Arsay stares at Y'shtola, hands held firm in the air, praying for Urianger to be proven wrong.

Once before has Arsay's soul been knocked clean of her body, and had it not been for the absence of said body in her immediate vision she would have sworn it had happened again. She felt numb. Any other word spoken after "The one I know not." was static to her. There was no rational thought happening behind those wide eyes. Not even a slim chance that Arsay could be considering that something was perhaps wrong with her. All she could think about was the immense and sudden heartbreak she was actively experiencing.

Meanwhile, Y'shtola struggled to come to terms with what she was hearing versus what she was seeing. Before her was a figure so immense of light aether, how could Urianger words possibly be true? She knew Arsay's aether. Such brilliance was not something she'd readily forget. In fact, she'd go as far as to say it's image plagued her mind despite her best wishes along with equally inconvenient and unsavoury thoughts. Y'shtola had been awaiting the day Arsay's aether came into view once more for gods know how long. Yet he insists that this unknown figure before her is that very same person; that this was her Warrior of Light. As much as she did not want to accept it what other rational explanation could there even be?

Y'shtola stood aback, her harsh tone wavered as she stammered in disbelief. Again she scrutinized the strange light infused aether. Though she could discern that it vaguely held the form of a person any potential detail was obscured by an intense glow that radiated from it's core. She supposed perhaps she could picture her memory of Arsay slotting into the blurry silhouette... oh by the twelve. A chill runs down her spine. Y'shtola has never been one to panic, yet if this is truly Arsay before her then that can only mean terrible, terrible things.

With the initial shock worn off things begun to come back into focus for Arsay including Y'shtola who's gaze was fixated on her, clamouring for answers. As if on cue her voice returned to her. Despite this not being the reunion Arsay had imagined, out came the words she would have said regardless.

Not a hint of resentment carried through her tone. If anything, she sounded as if she was amused by the situation. As much as it hurt to think that the person Arsay considered to be her best friend had forgotten the appearance of her aether (something she understood as being unique to her); Arsay couldn't help but feel like she should have anticipated it. Sure, it had only been a month for Arsay, but it was three years for Y'shtola. That's quite some time to be apart. More than enough for Arsay to no longer be relevant enough to be recalled from time to time in Y'shtola's daily life. The irony of it stung. Arsay had only just begun to believe she wasn't as forgettable, as insignificant, to others as she feared... Funny how things turn out. She felt foolish to have overestimated the depth of their friendship. Guilty too for burdening someone she cared for with her own lofty expectations. Arsay only had herself to blame for this outcome. One would think she'd learn her lesson by now. What a laugh. Compelled by this joke only she was privy to, a short chuckle escaped from her lonesome smile.

The familiar voice rang through her ears and stirred her heart. There was no denying it. Her friend was finally here ...And Y'shtola welcomed her with an ambush. Delightful. She breathed out a heavy sigh. This was not at all how Y'shtola had wanted their meeting to go but she'd not let herself be vexed by such things. She pushed the tinge of dissatisfaction to the back of her mind. Arsay of all people would understand the things one must do to protect others. This greeting would be water under the bridge to her in but a tic. What mattered most is that the Night's Blessed were no longer under any (immediate) perceived threat. Her dear friend's aether on the other hand... Her head began to swirl with questions. Questions surely the Warrior of Darkness could soon help her attain the answers for. The thought alone brought it's own sense of relief. A smile tugged at the corners of Y'shtola's lips. There was no denying how happy it made her knowing her wait was over.

The tension in the air settled along the fur on Arsay's tail. She gave Y'shtola nod of acceptance, mindlessly forgiving her when in truth the apology felt hollow to Arsay. It wasn't at all what she wanted to hear but it wasn't as if hearing anything else from Y'shtola would help ease her nerves. It is what it is. At the very least, she was happy that Y'shtola looked to be in good health. Best focus on that for now.

Arsay and the rest followed Y'shtola from a distance quietly through the woods. Even through the canopy strong light polluted the forest floor. It gave Arsay a headache, much like everywhere else she had been to on the First. She often relied on her headband to block out the worst of the sun's rays back home but it did nothing to defend her light soaking eyes from the ambient brightness. She had been getting used to it but for some completely and totally unknown reason it began to feel worse.

Now and again Arsay would spot Y'shtola looking back over her shoulder towards her. Each glance had Arsay suddenly anticipating, hoping, that Y'shtola was about to call her over, and when that did not happen it made Arsay like a fool all over again. Foolish, and then frustrated. A degree of frustration that could be easily alleviated were she allowed to wander off and drive her knives into whatever foul beast first crossed her path. Alas, Arsay had to stay with the pack and sit with her growing bad mood she was not supposed to have. Her cheeks began to feel weary from the smile she kept plastered on her face.

Y'shtola guided the scions along the path to Slitherbough at a steady pace. Though she maintained a lead on them by no means was she walking fast enough that Arsay couldn't catch up should she want to do so. That's what Y'shtola had come to expect from Arsay; if the opportunity presented itself, Arsay would not hesitate to encroach on Y'shtola's personal space. It was a habit Y'shtola was not all that fond of initially- it was overwhelming for someone who more often kept to herself- but in due time Y'shtola found herself yearning for Arsay's touch. A terrible yearning which only grew stronger in its absence. Though she tried with all her might not to, Y'shtola would quickly glance back at the group only to be disappointed that the insufferably bright glow of aether was just as far from her as it way before. For Arsay to be so unlike herself... perhaps it was not only her aether which has been afflicted. The thought gave Y'shtola pause, the roots of worry began to sprout within her.

She also had to admit there was the slim chance that being held at weapon point and accused of being a sin eater had upset Arsay. But, It could have been worse. At least Y'shtola didn't frame her for regicide. Y'shtola's brow furrowed. There was no way Arsay could actually be mad at her. Y'shtola has given her colder shoulders than that in the past and Arsay had brushed it off without issue. It had to be something else.

Be it her worry for Arsay or due to her general dismay of the earlier happenings that she could not seem to shake, Y'shtola was no longer in the mood to let sleeping dogs lie and Thancred had made the unfortunate decision of opening his mouth. She'd not been a fan of how he had been conducting himself to say the least. Nor was she willing to let his inability to move on rob a young girl of her autonomy. Tongue as sharp as ever, Y'shtola made her opinion clear and sent the man running with his tail between his legs. Minfillia too sulked out not long after.

Arsay, bearing witness to this, felt just awful for Minifilla (as she called her). The smile she had held onto dropped the instant she heard the cave doors close. While Arsay is usually in favour of Y'shtola's tenancy to speak her mind so openly, all the aggravation that had been stewing inside her had now suddenly come to a boil. She had to lash out. She wanted to be mad at Y'shtola, for anything, because Arsay still felt deep down like it wasn't right to hold her responsible for the thing she was actually upset about.

"Really, Y'shtola? You had to bring that up just now?" Arsay crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're the last I'd consider to come to Thancred's defence." Y'shtola's eyes narrowed, "I am not indifferent to Thancred's troubles. Nevertheless, I will not apologize for holding him to a higher standard after all these years. He has ever been a man of considerable resolve, and that is what I will continue to expect." "Then I best warn you: expectations only lead to future disappointment." The accusatory tone in Arsay's voice made Y'shtola tail twitch. "Excuse me? Arsay, what has come over you? You've not at all been yourself. Pray tell, have you felt any considerable changes since defeating the light-" "Perhaps, Y'shtola, you should be more concerned with how you have changed." Arsay cuts her off with a hiss.

Silence. You could the tension in the air with a knife. Arsay turns on her heels, "I-." she stops herself when she heard the crack in her voice. With a click of her tongue she flees out through the cave doors as fast as she could.

Urianger, who had been a fly on the wall for their heated back and forth, clears his throat. "Should thine wish be to give chase, thou can entrust in me the beginning duty of reviewing the tablet." Y'shtola let out a sigh. "I realize I am not as I was on the Source, but I cannot say I regret the decisions that allowed me to come this far." She proclaims largely for her own sake before turning to Urianger. "Allow me a moment to settle this. I shall return shortly."

All of that finally leads into this scene which actually the first time I ever tried to pose and write a story type scene. So excuse the slight jank of it (and the fact that Arsay's character voice has absolutely shifted some since then. Also ignore the fact that Arsay is wearing the darklight bracers in that old pose. It was taken at a point before I was using mods and I was still figuring out Arsay's shadowbringer glam- they were a hold over from previous expansion's glams)

the director commentary for their make up is Y'shtola finally accepts that Arsay is mad at her but is still defending her actions because it was the right call at the time. Again she tries to explain that Arsay's aether is fucked up in a way only to be cut off by Arsay airing out one of her deepest insecurities- her begging for validation. It's only then that Y'shtola realizes what exactly Arsay is upset over- and that her friend had absolutely 0 clue as to the light corrupting her aether. In a moment of absolute kindness from Y'shtola: instead of explaining then and there of Arsay's suspected light poisoning, she tells Arsay exactly what she wants and needs to hear. (And its this act of kindness that later becomes the catalys for Arsay realizing how much she loves Y'shtola upon learning about the light corruption and putting two and two together that Y'shtola was way nicer to her then she could have been in that moment.)

This is like maybe the 1st time Arsay has a public-ish breakdown and it really is "out of character" for her. But I cannot stress enough how much this shit triggered her and how bad she is at handling negative emotions. Like she really has a problem of not letting herself feel bad about anything and all that pent up stress gets funnelled directly into fighting. Its super cool and normal if you think about it and totally healthy if you ask her. When she cant channel that rage through her knives it escapes other, less productive ways. She did immediately felt awful about snapping at Y'shtola. Even if she wanted to be mad at her it wasn't right and Arsay knew this. Literally hearing that Y'shtola cared about her and thought of her was all she needed to put herself back into order. Y'shtola, still worried about Arsay's aether, was more than willing to move past this awful reunion of theirs and continue on just as they had been back before she was sent to the first.

And from there everything is pretty much normal! They made up, Arsay caught up to Minifillia and Runar, Y'shtola went to work on the tablet, story stuff happens, Arsay has her oh moment, they get together and so on.

Thank you so much @darkmadorz for giving me the excuse to write about this!

#arshtola #arsay nun lore #arsay nun #this is loooong lol #and while writing this I did encounter many praising posts for shb yshtola and i am also too always praising her #but listen #I do think she could have had just a little more tact when it came to calling thancred out on his bs #like i dont feel bad for him I feel bad for ryne who then felt like she needed to defend their relationship #because she too was incredibly insecure about it #I know Y'shtola just cares a lot and when she cares a lot she can sometimes put her foot in her mouth and thats a great character trait #i love her for it. trust.#but I also like the idea that Y'shtola was particularly snippy in that moment because she was already very worried about Arsay #and fucking up what could have been a sweet reunion for them both upset her more than she wanted it too #not that it was her fault for having the reaction to arsays aether #but it was just kinda a “oh shit goddammit” kinda upset #and Thancred's compliment sounded a little too smarmy for her liking #unintentionally being another thing Yshtola and Arsay have in common: lashing out a little too badly when stressed about something else #it was wild rewatching that cutscene where she chews thancred out cause that one i did not really ever revisit #they have Arsay smiling through the whole thing which is in character but definitely not a genuine smile from her #and yeah on literally any other occasion Arsay would have been like “ooo get'em girl”#but yeah she was just looking for a reason to be upset #also some of those cutscene shots are of my own making because the reaction shots from arsay didnt quite match the emotion I wanted #I did not proof any of this btw so sorry if it doesnt read that well

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