#does this count as shippy??

[arandomaquarius]

Kay so before I get into this rant I just wanna say that I’m definitely back on my bullshit again and to take this post with a grain of salt lmao it’s late and insomnia has struck once again warnings in tags

So! I want to point out something I’ve noticed in Transformers: Prime. Specifically about Knock Out and his relationship with Megatron and Starscream. Specifically about the abuse he endured on the Nemesis.

Now, it’s common knowledge that Megatron was physically abusive towards Starscream. However, I’ve seen a few fan made things saying that he was abusive towards Knock Out. Now while we have canonical proof of this in the case of Starscream, we do not have any for Knock Out. The closest thing we get is that one scene where Megatron picks Knock Out up from underneath his chassis (much like you would pick someone up by their shirt). But that happened when dark energon was coursing through his body, changing his actions and thought patterns. There was also the time that he shot at Knock Out after he retrieved the shield, but I’m not sure if that counts. Otherwise, Megatron never laid a servo on Knock Out (as far as I can remember right now.)

Of course, physical abuse isn’t just hitting someone. It’s using your body to threaten and intimidate another being or to make them feel inferior. There are many examples of Megatron doing this to all of his troops (save the Waves and Predaking). So as for that part of being physically abusive, Megatron fits the bill!

The type of abuse that Megatron uses the most is verbal abuse. The demeaning remarks, the intentional mentions of past events that have clearly left a mental mark, insults, threats, everything. He is degrading Knock Out (because this post is mostly about Knock Out not Screamer sorry Screamer enjoyers) with his comments and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose, and that’s what makes it abuse. This is a very common type of abuse, despite the media focusing on physical abuse the most. Megatron never lays a servo on KO, but his words do enough.

Starscream, however, does both. He insults and demeans Knock Out the first episode he appears in! He obviously learned this abusive behavior from Megatron after serving under him for so long, but he ramps it up. The way Starscream gets in KO’s personal space; the way he used the spark extractor to scare him more than once; the time he hurt Knock Out after he street raced; when he hit KO after the Omega Lock got destroyed; how he threatened him in Thirst; and more that I’ve probably missed.

Point is, out of the two, Megatron has treated Knock Out better. Starscream has been more manipulative and abusive towards him than Megatron was. Megatron very rarely got physical, while Starscream didn’t hesitate to get in Knock Out’s face and use his (not by a lot) superior height to intimidate and threaten him. Megatron made snide remarks and brought up painful reminders, and he was abusive in this way, but not really physically. And I say really because he was still shit, but he didn’t physically hurt KO as much as Starscream did.

This is important for their dynamics because Knock Out kept aligning himself with Starscream when it came to betraying Megatron. Despite Megatron not being as physical as Starscream. I dunno if it was ever explained why Knock Out did this, but I do know that abusive relationships are difficult to get out of and that many stay because it is familiar and they believe that they deserve it. I don’t think KO thinks he deserves all the pain he gets from Starscream: he just doesn’t strike me as that mech. However, I think Knock Out was comfortable where he was and felt he could correctly gauge whether or not he was in enough danger that he would need to leave the safety of the Decepticon ranks. The Decepticons were in control of the energon supply, therefore the winning team and where Knock Out was safest and most comfortable. He likes luxury, so it was a no brainer for him: security, a place to keep up his finish, and plenty of energon; or no security, no way to keep his finish flawless, and barely any energon?

Anyways, all this to say that Knock Out suffered abuse at the hands of Starscream and Megatron, although Megatron’s was less severe than Starscream’s. We need to talk about it more and acknowledge that Starscream, while being an abuse victim, is also an abuser. You can be both. Just because you are/were abused doesn’t excuse you if you are also abusive. Knock Out could have continued this cycle, but he didn’t. And as far as I’m concerned, post-Predacons Rising Knock Out is living his best goddamn life on Cybertron.

thanks for coming to my Ted talk! If you have any additions, feel free to add them

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Not to skk post on main but that scene from Dead Apple made me insane for I think a slightly different reason than most...

Ok so. Gonna be honest. When I first watched this, the ah... positioning... did not occur to me at all, other than thinking "that looks really uncomfy :/".

I was too focused on what Dazai's hand does here. He first pushes him. Ok so he was trying to stop him from getting up and losing contact due to the fog. Cool. That serves a practical purpose.

But then Chuuya falls unconscious and Dazai's hand loses that contact for a second before he lowers it back down to rest on his head.

The thing is, there's no need for him to do that. Chuuya is already in contact with Dazai's legs and his ability works through clothes. Moreover, it wasn't just a continuation of pushing him down - there's a slight delay before he sets his hand back on his head.

He sets his hand there just because. And, due to the delay/hesitation, it appears to be a conscious choice to do so as well. Chuuya's out. There's no one around to act for.

I watched that and went holy shit that's genuine, isn't it? It's such a simple gesture of fondness, maybe even a bit of protectiveness, but it means a lot from someone as emotionally closed off as Dazai.

It's... weirdly sweet. He appears to have done it after Chuuya lost all his friends (again...) during DHC in the manga adaptation too, which is... :(

And now, with seeing Dazai immediately start playing with Chuuya's hair in the latest Fifteen adaptation, it also doubles as really funny to me. He saw a chance to touch his hair again and took it. What is wrong with this man.

[driftward]

Shipping in Final Fantasy the Fourteenth is dangerous business. Especially since glamour is the real endgame.

[ouroboros-hideout]

UNTIL I FOUND YOU

OTP: Like Napalm 03/???

Oh, I used to say "I would never fall in love again until I found her" I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into" I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her I found you

[amethysttribble]

When the newcomer had sat down next to Maglor, he felt the shift in the air instantly.

He felt the thrum of power that was now so rare on these shores. He felt the twang of a fea so I tune with the Song that it always hummed. He felt the hatred and the loneliness and the neediness and the understanding rolling off his cloaked companion in waves.

The uninvited guest didn’t speak, though, as they watched the fireworks explode above Gondor from the edge of one of the city’s many walls. People were cheering and singing in the streets, happy and free. Tonight, they celebrated the birth of King Eldarion’s first child.

The world was at peace and their kin had fled these shores. Now, the latest of Finwe and Luthien’s united line rules a Mannish kingdom. Why were two wretches such of them here, together?

Why not? Maglor thought, closing his eyes and turning his face to the warm summer sky. Where else? Who else?

“Beautiful night,” he said.

And all Daeron needed to say to be understood was, “Yes.”

[tortoisesshells]

five sentence game: "slowly" for james/elizabeth? please and thanks!! :')

DMC, but with a pinch more gothic horror this time around:

Truthfully, she never expected to see James Norrington again, and in some ways Elizabeth is not sure she has: there is a man in a hammock who answers to that name, who has a captain’s coat, and the same sharp-tongued disdain for what irritates him – but (and here, when she has thought on it, she has struggled) either there is some familiar thing missing, or some unfamiliar thing at home. Awake, he speaks familiarly, insultingly. Traces of the old, slow, methodical coolness remain, but only in the same way that the ribs of an old wreck reach out of sandbars. Some part of her thought he was dead – dead, or (thinking of the pale-faced revenant that had deposited James Norrington's sword in her father's office and bowed to her wordlessly, those months ago) as good as. In the old stories, it was never a good thing when the dead returned.

Send me character(s)/a ship and a one word prompt, and I will write a five sentence fic about it.

[girlkomaeda]

save me horrifying nuclear waste toxic yuri

waoh... extra

[taigertea]

teef

[quaddmgd]

hey

[grollow]

Grimm put up a good fight😌for the prompt asks I would like to see him and Hollow with something from a series of "firsts". IE, first kiss, first hand hold, first time accidentally setting one of the Dirtmouth houses on fire, ect ect. Just one of those things will do, anything ya want! I like fluffy "first" prompts 💖💕

I'm not back from my mini hiatus but I wrote this in record time and I don't know if you see my Ao3 updates or not so I wanted you to see it. <3

b u r n || AO3

If there is anything that I have learned, in all of my years, throughout lifetime after lifetime after lifetime, it is that nothing ever truly stays buried.

Not truths. Not lies. 

And most certainly not a hurt so deep that I find myself impressed it hasn’t a smell. 

It is a tangible thing, the way that it clings to its every motion. It is a myriad of shadows and regret and it drips off it. I am reminded, continuously, of the great sheets of water carried by the devastating storms that blow in parts of the wastelands beyond. 

Those are places it has never seen; that few, if any, in this kingdom have. 

I would invite it to come with me, if I thought it would accept. It will not. 

Its place is here, in this dying kingdom that moulded it from the fathomless void below. An artisan, that Wyrm – I cannot deny that part of me is jealous at the sheer marvel of creation his vessels are.

I have a favourite one, though, and it is not my summoner.

It is instead the creature that my summoner rescued, when it scaled the Godseeker’s mountainous challenge in order to blot the sun from the sky.

I should be more bitter, perhaps. My Ritual remains incomplete. I do not know if it will return and that is a problem for me. The child remains dormant in the charm, left in my tents, awaiting its return – and I am distracted instead by its birth-cursed sibling, pock-marked with scars and peppered with burns that Soul should long have healed.

I do not think it can channel anymore.

This is, perhaps, the source of its predicament: it is standing in front of its old prison and assaulting my senses all over again with a depth of feeling that makes me question the merit in the Wyrm’s so-called foresight. If my eyes can see the cloak of regret that it wears, surely his could have as well if he’d but known to look.

Ah, but perhaps that is unkind of me: we are ever slaves to sentiment and it is not uncommon for someone to see what they wish to see. I am no stranger to such concepts. I see what I want to with it as well. I see a creature with potential to be so much more. I see pain that can find closure, if guided by deft hands. I see a strength unmatched by any that I have ever beheld, and I am at once enamoured and intimidated. I do not spook easily but it seared and burnt without breaking.

It is impressive.

It is also trying with abject futility to do something with sticks that I can only guess the purpose for. 

“Hello, my friend,” I greet it  softly and I stay out of its reach.

Sneaking up on someone who has hurt for so long and with no relief is not wise. Sneaking up on someone with a particular grievance with those who have an affinity for dreams is even less so. I give it the space it requires.

It turns back to me. I can make no emotion out in its mask and that is by design. Its siblings are both the same, although the spider’s tones when she speaks have plenty of inflection - more than enough to deliver intent. 

I wonder what it thinks of me. What it beholds when it looks upon another… vessel of a fashion. We are not entirely different in that regard, but the origin and motivations between our natures are worlds apart.

It watches me with an intensity that I find at once daunting and incredibly fascinating.

This is not our first meeting. The spider dragged it out of the Black Egg and to my tents. I am more qualified to help deal with injuries wrought in dream than any other and, as loathe as she was to admit it, I was the best option that she had for help. We bandaged it together and she never let her eyes leave mine. She introduced the two of us and when the deed was done, she took it away. I assume to a house in Dirtmouth. I did not ask.

I am not exactly welcome by the locals.

I saw it descend into the well when I was talking to the steeds. I will not lie: I followed out of curiosity for its purpose.

This place must bring back a lot of memories for it. It has, after all, known very little else and every other place that it spent time is long gone.

I let my gaze go up to the Temple. It is carved in the husk of a great void beast and enchanted with seals that, even in their darkened state, are impressive. There are tangled veins of withered, dead infection: brown and mottled instead of the sickly orange-gold that I know was once here. The pustules yet remain, hanging off the building as a macabre reminder of the prisoner’s previous state.

I think that it should not be here. 

My opinion, however, is not one that it has any obligation to listen to.

“What are you doing?” I ask, and I close the distance once I am sure that I have not startled it. I have practice dealing with people who have been badly traumatised. My Troupe is often alluring to individuals of that nature. It is no different in that regard. 

It holds up a stick for me to see and then looks down again. I cannot shake the feeling that the motion is one born of shame. It was supposed to not think or feel, I recall – to be truly empty, to be the perfect shell its sire needed. It is none of those things, and it is embarrassed by that. Hence the weight worn over it, a mantle to be crushed beneath.

I do not understand its meaning. Perhaps I am not meant to.

“Does your sister know that you are here?”

It does not answer. Not in a nod or a headshake, though I am fully aware it is capable of both. It stares instead at the stick in its hand. 

There are rocks beneath its hand on the ground, and they have clearly been moved there from their previous positions.

I know what I am looking at.

“Are you attempting to make a fire?” I ask, my hands lacing together under my cape. When I stand this way, I appear smaller. It is much bigger than I am, but both hunched and crouched, I practically tower over it and there is something in its demeanour that suggests it would rather itself disappear as well. 

A broken thing, the Hollow Knight. 

I am given an answer in the form of a nod and I allow myself to chuckle.

“To burn the Temple?”

Another nod. 

I hold my hand out, then; it is an invitation. 

“How big of a fire would you like?” 

It cocks its head to the side. It does not know if it can trust me. In fact, it probably thinks that it should not. After everything it has been through, I cannot fault it. It does take my hand and let me help it stand and I consider that to be a victory.

Its head inclines toward the building. I cannot see where it is looking, not really, beyond the structure, but my feeling is that it probably…

… wants quite a large one.

Or at least, I would want a very large pyre indeed, if I were confronted with a place that housed my worst memories.

“Stand back, if you please,” I request, and it is obedient: it complies by taking enough steps back that I wonder if it is running. It is not. It watches me.

What kind of performer would I be, if I did not give it a worthy show?

I held my hand above my head and offered it a very satisfying snap. The fire on the building ignited in the same moment: crackling flames, dancing freely up the sides in a scarlet that put my eyes to shame. 

I drop my hand to my side and look back over my shoulder. It creeps closer, until it is at my side, but it is spellbound. I do not need to see its eyes to know that they are trained on the dancing light consuming the shell. Burn. Burn.

“Bigger?” I ask and I smile. It nods without looking my way and I curve my wrist; I pull my fingers closer and the roar of the flames becomes louder yet still.

The shell is strong. It is not particularly vulnerable to heat and yet with enough effort –

I heard it crack. I heard the top of the shell – the de facto roof, really – cave in and embers fell into the middle chambers. From there, it was only a matter of time until the inferno took hold.

“There is catharsis in saying goodbye to the things that have caused us pain,” I tell it and it does not look at me. I move over to the side, so that I am close enough to touch, and then lean my head over to rest against its side. “I would be your friend, if you would allow me.”

It does not look at me. I did not expect it to.

I also did not expect its hand to snake down and lace its fingers with mine, but it does: it curls them into the spaces where mine are.

I smile wider. With my free hand, I coax the flames to dance ever higher for it to watch. They crackle and offer a very satisfying pop.

It will not take long to burn it to ash.

I will stay with it until then. I have ever loved having a rapt audience. 

[rvbyaoi]

doing my best to bring back the fandom for an old modded minecraft series o7

[id: traditional art of stampy cat, iballisticsquid, and superchache39 from Race To The Moon. stampy is on the top left, and is an orange and white cat posing with his paws beneath his chin and one leg tucked up slightly. he has big green eyes, curly fur, several arrows sticking out of him, and blue flowers in his fur, and is wearing a red and white striped top hat. squid is on the right, and is a squid hybrid, with pale skin and blue scales, yellow and blue tentacle hair (like splatoon) in an undercut ponytail, and blue tentacles coming out from behind him. he is wearing blue tinted goggles, a lab coat with the end burnt off, black pants, and black shoes. he looks smug, and is holding a diamond pickaxe. chache is at the bottom, and is a sheep hybrid with white fur and pale skin who is sitting down. he is wearing an orange and green propeller hat, a red and white onesie with "39" written on it, and green and orange gloves. he is waving at the camera, and has yellow sheeplike eyes partially covered by his hat, and an awkward grin/grimace, and is holding a diamond sword. in gaps on the page, there are doodles of comets, the moon, and a galaxy. end id.]

here r my 3 weed smoking girlfriends from race to the moon. if u love silly little guys ull love that minecraft series btw.

also drew them eeping :]

[id: traditional art of stampy cat, iballisticsquid, and superchache39 from Race To The Moon sleeping. squid is laying on his back, wearing a blue onesie like his regular minecraft skin with the squid mouth as the hood opening. stampy is curled up on squid’s side like a cat. chache is lying partially on top of squid on his other side, wearing the funny heart boxers. they are all lying on a mattress on the ground, with space themed pillows and a crumpled blanket off to the side. end id.]

[silima]

[kadoodles-on-ao3]

Artist: mugimugis3 Source: Twitter Archives: Original Post | First Image | Second Image

(Rough) Translation: Melia: "...Do not stare so much..." Shulk: "Your face is red!! Do you have a fever, Melia!?"

[avava2723]

girls kissing episode 0

aka known as uhhhhhhh wow this needs a title doesnt it

anyway im sure ill come up with a title eventually

its set a few months(?) after the end of Scarlet Nexus's videogame story (i have not watched the anime) Alice takes Karen's place as septentrion first class, Kasane and Tsugumi go on adventures together, and something big will happen o.o

if you havent you should probably finish up whichever of our favorite psychokinesis users stories you havent yet done, purely because i Do Not separate knowledge between either route and am liable to spout random spoilers

(also tell me where else online i can upload this. ill reinstall wattpad if pressed but im still on the ao3 waitlist i think)

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

For those new to AO3

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[mellosdrawings]

Was playing through ignihyde chapter and I cam across the part where Leona told Jamil off abojt his behavior essentially saying Jamil was useless and not needed to do stuff. Jamil most likely didn’t understand where Leona was coming from. Cause Leona isn’t as “weak” or “unaware” as Kalim. So he didn’t need the protection of Jamil.

Leona was also kinda wrong for the way he delivered it. And it was also covered around with insults

Where I’m getting at is what if Jamil still lingers on with what Leona says and kinda backs off or feels useless around Leona. Kinda being more awkward cause he realized what Leona meant

Some angst for the ship skdndfjsjsjs hope this makes sense 🌸

Ok so, you probably expected some comic/fic ideas about this, but their dynamic during the STYX hellscape had me obsessed for months and you unlocked it all with that ask. It won't be necessarily shippy but it's a long rambling analysis.

ALL THE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 6 AFTER THE CUT!

Their dynamic is so terrible (/pos), I wasn't expecting them to get along the least (honestly thought Riddle and Azul would throw hands at some point, I've also obsessed on their over-confident/under-confident dynamic but that'sfor another time), but in retrospect it makes sense.

I always find Jamil's behavior to be cringe but there are reasons for it. Really he's the one who struggles the most (not counting Idia) during this chapter.

He's the only Vice Housewarden in the group, and also a servant. When it comes to choosing the groups he doesn't give his opinion at all and just goes where there's still place (with Leona) and then rely entirely on his habits and upbringing with him. His role is to protect the fancy person that accompanies him. Usually it's Kalim, but here it's an actual prince who could rain hell on the Asim should he get wounded while under Jamil’s charge.

Jamil thinks about his duty first, that's why he so overbearing until Leona tells him off.

Because Leona isn't Kalim. He’s a lazy twat (/affectionate) but he can also be very independent and he’s probably one of the strongest mages in NRC. He doesn't need Jamil to protect him. If anything he should be the one protecting Jamil considering he is younger and less experimented. (Plus Leona has his pride despite the laziness)

While Jamil thinks of his duties, Leona uses situational logic. They're in a dangerous position where they don't have time to play master and subordinate, it'd be a hassle if Jamil gets wounded.

And it does become a hassle when he gets wounded.

Seriously their dynamic was good.

But also Leona is terrible at communicating. It's a running theme that he expects others to understand his meaning from minimal explanations. For Jamil who is used to Kalim who is rather transparent with his needs and wants, that's a difficulty to tackle.

Add to that the fact that Leona can't help but rile others with his words and you quickly have a Jamil who doubts himself and starts to put himself down.

Again.

Because he's always put down. And this time by an actual royalty.

Like, yeah, Leona was a dick to him and didn't consider the pressure of duty Jamil constantly has on his shoulders. But also... he wasn't wrong. Jamil puts himself down even without external pressure. He's all talk but the only time he actually did something was when he overblotted. During Book 5 he showed no change in behavior except to accept the spotlight when handed (and even then his first reflex was to put Kalim forward, because that's what he's always done.)

While terribly worded and mostly unaware of Jamil's actual situation, Leona was right to set Jamil straight. He could do more. He should do more.

And Leona sees himself in Jamil. That's the moment when you get a glimpse of actual N2 squad. Leona knows they're both constantly second, but where he has no exit door, he sees one for Jamil. He might not stay a servant his whole life. Especially since Kalim is very fond of Jamil. It might take time, but Jamil might still have an exit door to his freedom. (And if Jamil ends up marrying Leona the exit door becomes glaringly obvious)

I like to start the LeoJami relationship right after this book precisely because there's no way Leona’s words didn't kick the ants' nest inside Jamil’s brain, and because Leona shows genuine interest (and a smidgen of care) for Jamil.

And yes, despite Leona cheering him up in his own way by the end of the chapter, he still said a lot of harsh words. Jamil is a notorious overthinker, he would probably alternate between the "I have more potential to growth than others" and "I'm completely useless and would fail to do my job if I stay that way, which would have repercussions on me and my family".

Leona sees potential in him. That's actually huge, you know? So far the only ones who did were Azul, Vil (about dancing and singing at least), and maybe Kalim? But here you have a prince making him understand he's got potential.

Their relationship after STYX is definitely a mess that can turn angsty really fast on Jamil's end, I agree with you. But sometimes you need to break a rock to show its shiny insides. You can get from this with Leona lazily helping Jamil out of his comfort zone (because, once more, Leona sees himself in Jamil) until Jamil improves and finds his self-confidence once more. From there the angst has calmed and you can go to the lovey-dovey stuff!

Does any of this make sense?

I'm done rambling. That was a long one :')