#uh. ask to tag. ig

[fiddles-ifs]

don't know if you've talked about this before but if nazeri is a Muslim and mc is an Atheist, is that something that could ever cause problems in their relationship? do you think any characters could have some type of strain in their relationship when one believes in a god/s and their partner doesn't? I've seen a lot of problems with this stuff in real life especially when it's a christian/atheist relationship because the religious person will get stressed and feel like they need to "save" their partner by converting them or else they'll go to hell, so from what I've seen a lot of those relationships break up in real life. I was curious on how similar/different it would be with your characters and the mc. How well do they deal with the differences I guess.

Btw I was not trying to be disrespectful with this question at all, and if it made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry.

It doesn't particularly cause a lot of friction? Nazeri is content to stay in their lane when it comes to personal beliefs like religion. Obviously if you have a Gentlemens' Discussion about it, they're going to bring up what makes them happy about being Shi'a, and occasionally they might encourage their partner to attend ṣalāh just to see if they like it or not. Nazeri themself is pretty loosey goosey about their own beliefs, and some of the more religiously inclined consider them. Kind of a "bad" Muslim?? To their dismay.

Religion is a tough subject in a world where monsters exist but you can't tell anybody about them. In a lot of ways, Nazeri is using theirs as a crutch to stay sane. They try not to bother with anyone else.

One area that would grate on Nazeri would be alcohol, especially functional alcoholic Trackers. This has less to do with religion and more to do with the MC's overall health, but they also don't like the stuff in their house.

[starlooping]

this song has been stuck in my mind for several months tbh. everyone check out MAL DU PAYS (Monophobia) by @starvingnarcissistmusic (sorry for the tag) . its awesome. does a cool pose.

edit: as someone, who had thsi song stuck in my head for month i still somehow managed to get the lyrics wrong. electric chair for op (me). it's supposed to be '"if nowhere is home". oh well XD

[aro-culture-is]

Closeted aro girl culture is struggling to be friends with a lot of girls in my class because all they seem to want to talk about is boys/men. Oh, this guy from tiktok? Yeah, that is a human man alright. Cool 👍

.

[ghastigiggles]

and it goes without saying that i have been killing him (ft. once again @tenta-tickles' goofass)

[hollypies]

Zonai Link au ref sheets!!!!

Basically when Link was placed in the Shrine of Resurrection the shrine's settings were set to Zonai! The Sheikah had built over the original shrine, improving upon the ancient technology left behind. Unfortunately when most of the technology was buried so was the knowledge of the shrines true capabilities.

So basically the Shrine is given an injured Hylian, but since it's settings are set to Zonai the Shrine freaks out like "Oh my goddess this zonai is absolutely fucked up 💀" and spends the next 100 years 'fixing' Link.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

chomping at the bit to explain why a certain take on a character really irks me but also I don't like starting drama ever

[cable-salamdr]

Would people like to be on a tag list for whenever I post art

[feralwetcat]

William and Ashe online friends AU…. Do you have any more thoughts?

yeah!! i have an entire google doc:3

my main thoughts are how much they know about eachother, because having online friends myself, there is only like three i can put a face on, and two I've seen enough to recognize in public

i think they've seen eachothers faces, not often though, but a few times throughout the years, and vaguely know eachothers real actual names but feel weird using them cz they knew usernames first (which. i am working on. coming up now with usernames is hard💔)

i think they definitely tell eachother about irl stuff, especially because they've been in contact since before william left deadwood, but leave out. honestly a big chunk (ie ashe never really mentions the book, will never says he died just says he was injured, no mentions of anything hero in regards to themselves (not counting after meeting), etc) tho william does say some concerning shit

i also have a small (growing) list of games i think they would've played through and shit, because i think it's fun:3 (current list is a half finished still going baulders gate playthrough, multiple stardew saves, at least one it takes two game) tho i doubt they've completely finished all of them yet esp cz most require a setup and i severely doubt will has access to one of those most of the time

the rest of my thoughts are about how this would effect the timeline (not much) and what'd happen during s2 (because i thrive on sadness and tears)

timeline wise this changes like 0.2 besides adding a few more ashe and william moments and ints, like how i think while at marks place for the first time they'd probably talk alot more because. thats yr online bestiepop who is In Your House (qnd also just experienced a major traumatic event, and is also apparently a hero, and dead??) yk, much to the confusion of Literally Everyone Else (i think william gets messages and makes comments before meeting Ashe irl, and has bits like 'oh he'd like this' or smth, so everyone vaguely knows he has a friend, but thats the depth of it really)

NOW my angst thoughts:3

since this follows pretty much the timeline just with more ashe and will, during s2 will absolutely is just. Sad. he'll send ashe messages, pretend hes just taking a nap, or that hes just busy with schoolwork, or something instead of trickster-ed, that is one of if not his closest friends and hes suddenly gone, and I don't think he even processes that for a while (though all the chaos demon stuff does really hammer it in), and seeing the trickster at the WATCH base that first time REALLY fucks with him on a higher level

i also, surprisingly, have thoughts about Dakota and Vyncent, however my fingers hurt from typing so that is a later thing🙏

[vhvrs]

let me be hypothetical - dont be scared, its only [ theoretical ]

alts

[telesodalite]

Thinking about KrokFire...

Thinking about them sparring in the cargohold, because it's a long trip, and cabin fever is setting in, and Misfire is gonna pop a gasket if he doesn't do something about it soon, since flying in open space gets real boring real fast, and it's making everyone a little nervous, but Krok has time to kill, and maybe, quietly, he's also two steps away from doing something stupid just to feel alive again after cruising around pointlessly, mindlessly, endlessly, for so so long... (It's barely been a month)

And sure, Misfire is a terrible sparring partner. He has no technique, no concept of proper balance, or an inkling of how to use the weight of his own frame. He rushes headfirst like he's more bull than fighter jet, he talks too much, he spits, he bites, and he can't stand losing. But, in a roundabout way, it almost makes him the perfect partner in Krok's eyes.

Crankcase won't spar, "can't" he claims flatly, gesturing at the gaping hole in his helm, but Krok can respect his want for distance. That occasional flash of fear and frozen unease in Crankcase's visor in close combat doesn't go over his head. He knows that look. He gets it. He won't push.

Fulcrum... well, a streetlight might be a tougher fight, or at least it would stay up longer and complain less. So much for a once respectable officer of the empire. What was Deathsaurus' command thinking promoting anyone without any actual combat training? It would almost be pathetic if Fulcrum didn't find a way to put the vitriol of thrown fists into his words instead. Now there was some swears Krok hadn't heard in a couple millennia, it would be inspiring if it wasn't his own spark Fulcrum had been damning to the pits and back through a bloody nose.

Spinister? Now Spinister was a good fighter, a better fighter, Krok wasn't so prideful to deny that truth. He'd tasted the dust of the cargohold floor enough to know it was a definitive fact. But Spinister held back, he was careful, he matched Krok's pace, his movements, he held himself defensively, any attack was quick, simple, and merely restraining. It was less a fight, and more a waiting game until Krok finally gave up, and that... well, that did sting a bit.

But Misfire? Misfire was a different beast all together. Sure Krok could dance circles around the flier all day, but it wasn't totally effortless work, he had to stay sharp, Misfire was so predictably unpredictable, he kept him thinking, moving, on his toes, and maybe it felt good to sidestep another stupid headfirst charge, easily grabbing and swinging Misfire around by his arm, so unbalanced all Krok had to do was let him go, and the weight of his own frame would send him careening into the crates stacked around them.

Most days, Misfire would give up by then, pull himself off the pile of overturned cargo with no small amount of burning shame and frustration, as he avoided Krok's optics and stormed off into the bowels of the ship before Krok could say something to ease the sting of losing again and again. Misfire didn't want his apologies though, and even as a pang of guilt ate at him over it, Krok knew he'd be back eventually.

But today, too pent-up and bored to quit now, Misfire pushed himself back onto his feet and charged back in again, and again, and again.

And Krok moved with him again, and again, and again. It was almost repetitive, but lively enough that he could feel the energon pumping through his head, a thrumming beat in his audials that reminds him of deafening battlefields and roaring stadiums, and oh, he'd missed this feeling, the adrenaline, the movement, more so than he thought he did.

Maybe it's the overconfidence that gets him then, or the memories pulling him out of the present, but Misfire's fist suddenly comes slamming down into his mask, and for a moment everything becomes a blur, until he finds himself on the floor, clutching at the shattered metal falling from his face in disbelief.

Faintly he can feel the twinge of broken mesh, of pain pinching dully across scarred flickering sensors, and maybe it's the adrenaline that pulls a suprised and breathy laugh out of him as he stares down at the pieces in his hand.

Maybe it's also the disbelief, the sudden shock at being struck hard enough to break his mask, by Misfire of all mechs. Or maybe he's cracked his helm, finally snapping something important deep in his processor, some vital function that kept him sane all these years.

Either way, an old familiar buzz of heady energy fills his chest, loosening his joints and straightening his struts as he stands back up, brushing off the broken remains of his mask as he stares back at Misfire, barefaced and bleeding and amused as the flier's optics go bright and wide.

And all Misfire can do for a moment is stand there, wide-eyed and breathless, his own adrenaline filled frame and hammering processor still trying to make sense of the broken plating of his knuckles and the energon trickling down Krok's scarred lips.

But connections are made, and it's a panicked realization at first, a cold dread, a 'ohhhhh fuck oh primus I fucked up I'm dead I'm so fucking dead-!' sort of feeling, as Krok's marred face breaks into an energon stained grin. But then there's another feeling, growing somewhere underneath the panic, a sudden curl of heat in his chest, a flush of pride, conviction, a sort of frenzied joy at the sight of broken mesh and fresh energon, and another rush of hot anticipation as Krok began to move again, circling, waiting, an unspoken question in the air as he rolls his shoulders back and flexes his hands.

And Misfire answers eagerly, suprising himself almost as he charges foward again, wanting more of that feeling, wanting to win again.

It's not really sparring past this point, and somewhere in the back of their minds they both know that. Every strike, every kick, every punch, it's all thoughtless instinct, each clash of plating, and bite of denta, and scrape of fingertips, is part of a mad dash for victory in the gladiator pit of scrap and debris they've built around themselves.

Of course, it can't last forever. They're no real gladiators, no phase-sixers, no primes, and movements get sluggish, vents rattle and wheeze as coolant pumps reach their limits, and building condensation slides powerless punches right off of scuffed metal and mesh.

Even like this though, worn out and bleeding from more scrapes than he had half a mind to count, Krok is still better, and Misfire is still predictable, and it's no great feat to sweep his legs out from beneath him, landing him flat on the floor, wings spread out and chestplate heaving.

Overworked joints sharply protest as he goes to pin the flier down bodily, and finally Krok faces the fact he has to consider how to end this, so he might let his own beaten frame finally still for a moment to breathe.

But as Krok catches one flailing arm in his grip, scoffing at the desperation, still goading Misfire on even as he tries to end this, a hand stubbornly catches his throat, but stops before it can truly squeeze.

And once more they're not really moving, just staring, watching, but it's less wired and tense now, rather, its shaky, a little unfocused, as exhaustion filters out in heaving puffs of hot air between their frames.

Someone's plating is rattling, Krok isn't sure if it's his own or Misfire's, but the cost of adrenaline is painfully noticeable now. His grip loosens on Misfire's arms, and the idea of total victory is less sweet as his cables begin to ache throughout his inner-framework.

But Misfire's hand slides up to catch his jaw before he can lean back and relent to a truce, and he's pulling him closer, and Krok starts to push him off, call it quits before either of them breaks something past repair, but a flash of energon on Misfire lips catches his eye, and that hadn't been there a moment ago?

Before he can even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Misfire is pulling him down again, angling his helm upwards to feverishly meet his lips half-way.

Although the mesh of Misfire's face was throughly bruised and scuffed, Krok had frustratingly failed to return the favor of a busted lip. So, it had to be his own, smeared across Misfire's face at some point in the scuffle, it shouldn't have been interesting in the slightest, but Krok's processor was hazy, slow, and his optics trailed Misfire's glossa as he licked his lips and made an odd curious sound.

And maybe it was a stupid move to make so impulsively, one he'd regret making probably, but still too caught up in the waning heated high of the fight, Misfire figured he could worry about losing such a hard-earned battle later. Right now, this seemed far better than actually winning, and the taste of Krok's energon felt like a victory and reward nonetheless.

Bracing himself as Misfire wriggled his other hand free to splay out over his thigh, holding him desperately against his frame as he tried pulling him even closer, Krok considered the heat dispersion warnings flickering distractingly in his peripheral, and the very noticeable strain on his back and legs, even his arms.

It's not a great position to be in right now, after all they've done already. He'll regret it, he knows he will, his body will make sure of it, if Spinister doesn't first.

But then Misfire's glossa is sliding against the jagged edges of his teeth, and he's making hoarse little pathetic noises into Krok's mouth that stoke some sort of ego at having the flier so desperate beneath him, and Misfire's hands are warm and heavy over aching plating and seams, and really, on second thought, after weeks of boredom, why the hell not?

They've got nowhere to be.

[raiiny-bay]

some kel sketches i'm working on

[fluentisonus]

this song (c. 1860-83) is not particularly nice or kind in depiction or tone but i do keep thinking about it a lot in terms of the gender that's going on here & how sort of. idk. casually talked about & openly understood it is in the song. like again it's mostly just being made into a joke w some lewd implications here & there it's not nice. but it's there in a way that does really stick with me

[cake-nastyy]

WOE throws u all a collection of doodles

(second pic i posted on my twitter but FORGOT to put on here. oh well lmao)

[cr0wteeths]

how do you feel about proship vs anti?

i miss the "don't like don't read" era 👍 I am quite anti censorship

and my ao3 history would give certain people a heart attack 👌

[lucent-nargacuga]

more oc fandragons!

left to right: adael, rhodo, wyn

[pocketramblr]

I always found it slightly awkward how media makes siblings or people who see each other as siblings call each other brother/sister all the time as in real life you almost never see people do that with their own siblings (maybe someone out there like that)

In the case of Arkham Shadows I see why they did though because Bruce quite literally tells Harvey he loves him and Harvey says it back. Can't have the audience think Batman is in love with the DA.

They had Bruce pay for his college, pay for his campaign, pay for his surgery, pay for his therapy and had Harvey have him as his best man at his wedding. Wow..... Sugar baby Harvey is real.....

The calling sibling title thing is less common in English than in some other languages for sure- me and a couple of my siblings do it on occasion, but it's for a bit then. More common is when I call one of my close family friends "my sister" or "my nephew" when talking about them to someone else because it's faster and easier to say that than to say "my friend who I've known since she was born and lived with for a few years and consider a little sister" or "child of a close family friend who considers me an aunt" to someone who doesn't know them. Which is a lot of words to say that if they wanted to fully sell me on the brothers thing they should have either had a different bit or should have referred to the other as "my brother" when talking to an unrelated character instead.

But "oh no we have to make Bruce not look gay" has been a problem DC has struggled with more than once for many decades and it basically never works so I guess at least they didn't try to solve it this time by having Bruce pick a lady love over Harvey or cutting the holding hands thing

Because I saw that scrapbook! I know Harvey has been Bruce's sugar baby since he was ten years old! But we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him the love of his life because ok technically that's Gotham but also because gay. And we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him his best friend because they're not ten anymore and somehow that seems gay also. So brothers it is, I guess. Even if I think my brothers would bite my finger if I ever tried to pay for everything for them on that scale, guess it's different at billionaire levels