#primitive fascination with fire

[johnschneiderblog]

Up in smoke

Burning brush (my chief occupation in recent days) reminds me of my son-in-law's explanation for why he enjoys splitting my firewood:

The problem is the intact log; the solution is a splitting maul and muscle. The maul comes down, the log surrenders with a satisfying crack!. Problem solved. So simple - unlike most other of life's challenges.

Burning brush is satisfying in that same way, with the added bonus of appealing to our primitive fascination with fire.

But there's more to it than lighting the first twig, then watching the pile burn. A proper brush fire must be coaxed, encouraged and managed in order to reach its destiny - a puff of smoke and a layer of ashes.

It's practically magic.

[shitpostingkats]

Zack Fair has a really fascinating relationship with killing where a lot of the rest of the cast doesn't. He fights people as well as monsters and gradually stops being able to differentiate the two. He helps clear out beasties and ghoulies but he also intros the game with a massive attack on a foreign nation just to shore up corporate interests and for a good chunk of the game places those two activities in the same spot in his mind. One of his side projects at work is quashing the last remnants of rebellion in said occupied country and rooting out the spies in their resistance, at which point he hands them over to his bosses to be interrogated and presumably tortured. But if he comes face to face with the same people in a combat scenario, he won't kill them, because he views their desire to see themselves free as an honorable trait. Then he turns around and attacks hordes of people who defected Shinra. He uses the blunt side of his sword, not to spare lives, but because he doesn't want to damage the sharp edge.

Wutai forces and Genesis clones have a different categorization to him, something he can mentally label as "other". But after Nibelhiem, your primary enemy type becomes other Shinra soldiers. Just after Zack has had his realizations that the monsters he was wiping out share a haunting amount of basic building blocks with his coworkers. And with himself.

Actually, let's pause. Zack is the only character we see have any sort of acceptance of being Jenova-ed. Every other character is unwilling and usually not even a conscious being yet, but Zack A) knows what is being done to him, and B) openly states he wants those monstrous traits for himself. "Those wings / I want them too." Up to this point, every other character has equated being Jenova-ed to being baser, to being subhuman, but Zack at the very beginning tried to convince Angeal that it meant freedom. Power to do what you want.

Zack Fair willingly and with open arms embraced being made less than human because he thought it would give him the strength to break out of captivity.

So he busts out, and the first thing he's greeted with it a horde of enemies that he knows are human, has worked and talked with, and are in fact the same shape and type of person as Cloud. Just a couple cutscenes ago, these were his coworkers.

The easiest way to get through them is to set them on fire and blow up the munitions they're carrying on their person.

(It's such a beautiful demystifying of the elemental system. I love it.)

Oh also, you're on a time limit, so you gotta kill all these guys fast, because they're trying to go for the weak spot, Cloud, who can't fight and is getting dragged away.

After that, the next thing Zack does is find a gun and start taking long ranged killshots.

There's a tangible feeling of a lesson being learned.

Zack is (I think?) the only SOLDIER we ever see use a gun. It's worth noting that even the most fallen of SOLDIERs stick to their flashy blades and their weird swordfights. Other characters even comment how bizarre it is, but ffvii also runs on that fantasy world logic where if you just Get Good enough, swords are just as good as guns if not better. Guns are the lower, more primitive weapon, fit for grunts and hitmen but not elite fighters.

(I could also go into detail on how some of the SOLDIERS weapon are sold as bespoke merch in world, and basically another tool in the toolbox of how to sell these flesh and blood men as mythologized products. But we don't have time to unpack all of that.)

For Zack, we know that his sword is even a symbol of honorable combat and a legacy of trying to do the right thing. Zack picking up a gun is basically debasing himself to being just another man in the field. And it's a sniper rifle. The weapon guaranteed to get him as little contact with his opponent as possible and does not even give them a chance to fight back. But it's whatever gets the job done.

Zack starts the game as someone who kills people, but it's hand-waved aside the same way it is for most everyone else, only for him to bite that awareness apple like five minutes before it becomes absolutely vital he survive at all costs. Zack becomes aware that he's on a slippery slope and due to circumstances has to start sprinting. Over the course of the game, we watch as Zack Fair goes from being someone who kills people to a killer.

[muletia]

✧˖° 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

inspired by 'if not for you' by george harrison

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: after winning the war, optimus found his safe haven. with you.

cw: fluff, pinch of angst, obsessive thoughts, i may have romanticized his obsession a bit... self-indulgence, canon divergence - optimus gets his happy ending :))

word count: 1200

this fic can be treated as the yang to my previous piece about his dream and as the good ending to the whole obsessed!optimus arc

Once, a fire burned within his body. It consumed every conduit, reached every metallic tissue. The blaze wrought devastation, destroying and leaving behind necrosis until it consumed him entirely, mercilessly incinerating the remnants of optimism, the hope that he might live to see a better tomorrow.

Optimus burned out; the flame hollowed him from within and left behind only a shell. Deep within his spark, however, an ember still flickered — a reminder that he could not surrender, that he must endure to the end and serve his own, for that was the role he had chosen those ages ago. He could not capitulate. He would not.

And then, you appeared. A tiny spark that reignited the fire.

This one was fiercer and more painful, but within it lay the beauty of caring for someone, loving their flaws and imperfections, lending strength when it was most needed. You gave him enough of it to end the conflict once and for all. Optimus had long lost hope for a better tomorrow for himself. But for yours, he was willing to do absolutely anything. To ensure your well-being, reshape the future so you would no longer have to live in fear for your home. He did not factor himself into it; knew the sacrifice required to bring an end to a war that had escalated to an interplanetary scale. He could only dream, nourishing his imagination with visions he would never behold.

At least, that was what he once believed.

The wind gently brushes against his armor, and the spring sun envelops him with warmth. Far from civilization, no sounds of haste or petty conflicts reach him. It is only him and your garden, the flora that continously surprises him with something new. Colors, shapes of flowers, bloom schedules. Simple organisms, mundane and primitive, yet he saw beauty in them. Their simplicity fascinated him, as it was the complete opposite of Cybertron and its inhabitants.

But what captivated him most was their will to live, their resilience, the extent of suffering they could endure before yielding, before giving up. He drew inspiration from them, saw himself in them, for he, too, wished to live.

Now, yes. For you.

He knows you will return soon; your weekly schedule is deeply etched into his processor. But until then, he does not know what to do with himself. He always spends his time waiting for you, for the moment your vehicle rolls into the garage, for it is only then that he begins to truly live. In your company, surrounded by conversation, your kindness, and an affection impossible to replicate.

Everything he does in your absence is merely to kill time, to hasten your return, to occupy his processor and stave off madness without you. Sometimes, he manages, especially when a former teammate visits. But there are days when all he can do is meditate beneath the tree closest to the driveway, waiting for you. Thinking about what you will do together when you return, what news from work you will share with him, and how he might bring you joy today.

Without you, he is lost. The self-sufficiency built over so many years suddenly crumbles, revealing an uncertain, astray being entirely dependent on his conjunx.

Today is no exception to the routine. No one has visited. Optimus remains alone with his thoughts, which, for several years now, have been recalibrated to revolve solely around you. Once, they fed the fire he had to vigilantly tend, for he easily lost control over it, and it burned him alive. Now, it envelops him in a pleasant warmth, more soothing than the sun’s radiance. More comforting and tender. It brings him solace and peace, though it still fuels an unhealthy devotion. No longer destructive, but still imbued with a fiery passion, more powerful than Primus himself.

Sometimes, he misses Cybertron. Guilt over abandoning the search for a way home gnaws at him when he is not entirely focused on you. He knows the others still strive to find a solution. Occasionally, they invite him on missions, living fossils of his former life, but Optimus ceased aiding them for his own interest long ago. He does not wish to return, could not bear to leave you, to forsake the life you have painstakingly woven together. He might as well perish if it meant never seeing you again.

A sound pulls him back to reality, the scratch of tires on a gravel road. You are still distant; he will see you in precisely four minutes and twenty-six seconds, but a subtle smile already creeps onto his faceplate. This is the exact moment he has awaited half the day, yet even now, his composure cracks, revealing his excitement. He wishes to greet you. Now. Immediately.

He mass-shifts, preparing for your return. Would prefer to drive you himself, but you insisted on not taking advantage of him, a decision he never fully understood. Had he not made it abundantly clear that he would do anything for you? That he was at your every beck and call, ready to please and serve? Yet, to his misfortune, it was a harmless decision, one you had every right to make, and he was never the confrontational type.

He watches as you park and step out of the car, holding shopping bags, which he immediately takes from you.

"Greetings, my dearest," he says.

"Hello, love!" you reply. You want to add something else, perhaps to start recounting your day, but he must interrupt you.

His servo cradles your face, fitting its contours perfectly, as if you truly were made for one another. He lowers his helm to your face and kisses you. First the edge of your lips, then your cheek and jaw, steadily trailing down to your neck.

Once, he feared touch, terrified of its power, of how quickly and completely it consumed him. How much he craved, and how little he possessed. Each time, he waited for your permission, for you to dictate what he could and could not do, lest he accidentally hurt you. Destroy the relationship that sustained his wretched life, shattering the trust you had placed in him. And though similar moments remain a near-daily occurrence in your relationship, they have migrated to other spaces, to intimate places. In other circumstances, he has relaxed the self-imposed rigor, dictating for himself when he could, when he should, and when he wanted.

“Not wasting any time today, are you?” you laugh.

"Opti, not here," you chide.

Even he is unsure of what overcame him, you closeness addictive and consuming. He usually waits until you both calmly return home to prove how much he has missed you. Today, he cannot wait. The sight of you breaks him, making him acutely aware of his yearning, which he must somehow release before it consumes him entirely.

He stops immediately, though the taste of your skin lingers on his glossa, teasing him to continue his advances. It unsettles his processor as it invigorates his frame.

"I missed you," he says, syncing his stride with yours.

“I missed you too,” you reply, smiling in a way that infects him with the same expression.

He needed this. Simplicity, a place he could call home. You. For without you, there would be no new day, no spring, and the universe would become empty. Soulless and cold.

[dreamscapesofimagination]

I'll Crawl Home To Her

AN: Have a super sweet Lucifer confession. I'm so proud of her. I listened to Work Song by Hozier and this happened.

TW: Fluffy, so fluffy. Very in love Lucifer, cute sleepy Luci, I cannot overstate how much he loves you.

------------------------------------

It had almost stumbled from his lips so many times. Three little words he almost said at times far better than this.

Ballroom dances in which you had been more radiant than the Celestial Palace, glowing with an air of ethereal beauty. Your hand in his, warm eyes fixed only upon him. He had imagine the words flowing smoothly from his lips, the way you would smile as you overjoyed at his confession.

The words had gotten stuck, Lucifer suddenly wondering why you would want him.

He, who had hurt you several times. Who had always treated you as less than him.

The second time had been over a glass of Demonus (wine for you) in his study. You had come to study in there, seeking its quiet solace so you could focus away from the demands of his brothers.

You had asked him a question about the subject, voice shyly apologizing for interrupting him, but you really didn't understand this sigil and its significance in the Devildom.

Some sort of superstitious inheritance to the more primitive past of demons, he had explained succinctly, watching in awe as curiosity dawned on your soft face.

He could sense them, the questions that burned in your throat. It was not the first time he had seen this curiosity, but to see it so raw, so real- he needed to hear more of your questions, if only to see how your wide-eyed gaze regarded him as if he were the most fascinating being to exist.

Questions had turned into conversation, which had led to now, you two sharing a drink while your giggles subside from a wry remark he had made ("If they had seen my father look for his shoes, they'd worship him less").

That sound. That sound was the finest he had ever heard. He could listen to it forever, his chest swelling with the knowledge that he could make you laugh.

It had almost fallen from his lips, and then he choked, wanting the moment to be just right. He wanted it to be grand- flowers, dinner, a kiss.

The third time Lucifer almost blurted out those three little words was when you stood up to him.

The week had been a particularly taxing one- dealing with missives from various members of the royalty, credit card statements from Mammon's latest gambling spree, Asmo's "much needed" shopping spree, Satan's newest bookshop binge- not to mention Levi's online orders and Beel's restaurant trip. They were wealthy, as members of Diavolo's inner court, but organizing the payments was a headache as he deducted from each demon's account. He had also heard a couple of whispered threats towards you. The culprits would never act on it (not after what Lucifer had threatened, relishing in the taste of fear as their faces went white), but now he had to organize appropriate safety measures for you. The problem? He couldn't shake the feeling that you would only be completely safe with him.

And then, Mammon had started a fire in the kitchen.

The second oldest couldn't leave you alone for five minutes while you cooked. He had bumbled in your way, causing oil to spill on the lit burner.

Sure, you had stifled it very quickly, and neither of you had been hurt, and Mammon was stammering out apologies to you, ears bright red.

Still- how could he be so careless? What if you had gotten hurt? Can't he just back off of you for a second?

After the final sentence you had stepped between him and a blustering Mammon, glaring up at him, hand on your plush hip.

The way your eyes narrowed has his brain resetting, and when you berated him for how he was speaking to Mammon, and how it was an accident.

He had nearly breathed out the words, entranced by your fierceness, your desire to protect his brother.

How a human like you was protecting a demon, and not for the first time.

Yeah, he needed to organize his confession.

And now? How he actually says it?

Just a few days after the incident in the kitchen, he found himself leaning back in his chair, groaning in exhaustion.

A peak at his D.D.D revealed the time to be one forty-three in the morning.

He had long since loosened his tie, top few buttons undone, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his arms. His hair was a mess from how many times his fingers had worried through it, glasses sagging low on his nose.

His eyes burned, swimming with mind-numbing words.

He shoved his chair back, deciding that he would work through one more cup of coffee and then he would call it a night.

He padded through the house on sock-clad feet, shoes long since kicked off somewhere into his study.

He froze at the sound of clinking around the corner, the soft sound of humming in the kitchen.

The sweet, siren song within.

He krept around the corner, hesitating in the door way when he saw you.

You puttered around in the kitchen, preparing the coffee maker and placing a mug underneath the spout. You were the picture of domesticity, old pajama pants, worn from use, oversized knit cardigan obscuring the shirt you wore. You hummed some song from the human world as you worked, placing a cookie on a plate from the batch you had made with Levi earlier (you had been insisting that since you make an effort for his interests, he make an effort to participate in yours, a fair trade in Lucifer's opinion).

He cleared his throat and you squeaked at the sound, whirling around.

If he could, he would bottle the sound of your surprise, keep it hidden away to listen too when he needed a pick-me-up.

And then you choked out an explanation (you were going to surprise him, figured he was up late and might need the coffee, and definitely a snack).

The sweet innocence of your voice as he approached, looking up at him with such a genuine, warm expression-

"I- I love you." he stammered out the words, voice low and sleepy, too tired to hold back the phrase he had almost said so many times before.

Your eyes flew wide at his statement, his hands grabbing your waist, pulling you into him.

His fingers sank into the plush of your love-handles, gripping you as if he was afraid you'd vanish, like an mirage in the desert that was his life.

Your hands landed gently on his chest, looking so cute with the flustered look on your face.

And then the most epochal smile spread across your plump lips.

And you said it back.

"I love you too," falling so sweetly from your mouth.

So many times he had nearly said it, and by all there was he had wanted the moment to be grand, to give you the universe with his confession.

Yet now, while he leaned down, lips pressing carefully into yours, he knew that there would have never been a more perfect moment than this one here.

For the first time in a millennia, he found himself unsure what would happen next.

All he knew is that as long as he had you, it would be worth it.

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

♡ [TFA] GRIMLOCK HCs!

i wrote this eons ago on ao3 and is one of my first few HCs for this fandom so yay! also where my tfa grimlock fans at???

scenario: you're a nerd stuck with your insufferable excuse of a Space-Bridge Repair Crew on an organic planet and you're the only one happy about it.

— You were a part of Optimus Prime’s space bridge repair crew and ended up being the defenders of the planet called “Earth”, fighting off the Decepticons. Megatron and his goons were causing quite some havoc on this primitive organic planet that you’ve grown attached to.

— Most of the others liked Earth as well. You especially. You were fascinated by its rich history and its numerous organic creatures. It was far more diverse than Cybertron, you hadn’t seen a single planet with so many unique varieties of creatures. More specifically, you grew really fond of Earth’s prehistoric creatures.

— Which is the main reason as to why you felt so enthralled when you first met Grimlock. A cybertronian(?) that was a Tyrannosaurus, you’d read quite a bit on the mighty creature. It was like a dream come true for you in a way given you were about 66 million years too late to see them. it was a nightmare for Optimus who kept getting his skid plate handed to him.

“Me, Grimlock, will crush puny autobots!” His roar shook everything around him. Honestly, you didn’t want to hurt him, he was WAY too cool to get terminated and it's not like you could really do anything against him in the first place. Thankfully, despite how ruthless the T. Rex seemed, you thought that maybe you could reason with him. The fighting against the Dinobots is causing some collateral damage and that human named Fanzone might pop one of his 'blood vessels'.

“But why would you want to do that, Grimlock!?” You shout out to him. Something deep down in your spark told you that maybe, just maybe, Grimlock could be reasoned with. He was a sentient being after all and he did possess some kind of intelligence.

Grimlock turned his snout and walked towards you. The whiplash from his erratic change of movement causes his tail to swing and it swats Optimus back into the stratosphere for the fourth time this solar cycle. He lands with a loud crash, thumping onto the floor backside first and his back shooting up from the pain. Ouch. But currently, you cant bring yourself to focus on Optimus as the gears in your helm turn to somehow get this Bot to calm down.

“Because, puny Autobot...” Grimlock paused, he almost looked confused. “Because, Me, Grimlock… Uhm… Uhhhh…” Grimlock stopped moving and pondered for a second. It was evident he was not very smart and you couldn’t help but frown slightly out of a strange sdndd of concern. This Grimlock character didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. Was he running on instinct? Or... was someone controlling him? If so who? Grimlock certainly didn't look like a criminal mastermind and he most definitely didn't just spawn out of Earth's soil.

Within the time you and the Dinobot took to think, Prowl lunged forward onto Grimlock. “Thanks for distracting him!” This wasn’t what you intended. Prowl tried to throw an attack onto Grimlock only for him to...

— HOLY SCRAP HE CAN BREATHE FIRE. Can this bot get any cooler? Honestly, you were way more mesmerised by him than you should be at this point at this point. He's dangerous but you can't help but marvel at his abilities.

— After your little skirmish with the Dinobots, Commissioner Fanzone presented the idea of melting down the Dinobot for extra parts and that made your spark drop. That was too harsh! For all you know, they were programmed yesterday! Of course they wouldn't understand collateral damage yet. Thankfully, you weren’t the only one who thought Fanzone’s decision was too harsh. Prowl felt bad for them too. Even if Prowl got a few burns here and there...

— So, you, Prowl and Bulkhead secretly team up to save the Dinobots. It was against Optimus’s orders but you didn't care, Optimus could go ahead and suck your shiny metallic-

“Why puny Autobots saving me, Grimlock and Dinobots?” He inquired, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lack of confidence. Honestly, Grimlock was surprised that you guys were willing to save him and his friends. The King is confused even. Why would you do such a thing even after all the damage he's caused? Even after he nearly sent you and your friends to a long trip to Ratchet's?

You thought for a second, careful about your words.

“Well, cause we care about you! And I personally think that you’re really cool, Grimlock. Besides, I don't think you’re just some mindless brute. ” You replied, whispering out the last part to make sure that Prowl and Bulkhead couldn’t hear you. He might’ve not been bipedal (or so you thought) but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a mecha like you. The thought of being cared for, the thought of being seen as cool was all unfamiliar to the Dinobot— He didn't exactly spend a lot of time on his emotions after being made by the funny looking helm but...

You thought he was cool? And you cared?

Grimlock was speechless, he didn't know what to say or have any idea on what would even be appropriate to say in such a situation. He felt something in his power core, something… that he could only describe as nice. Your words kept ringing in his head but in a pleasant manner. Like a song he didn't want to turn down. Meanwhile you look over to Prowl and Bulkhead, the coast was clear and you lean closer to Grimlock.

“Hey, is it alright if I visit you guys more often?” You ask in secret with a hushed tone, Prowl and Bulkhead seemed to be engaged in some conversation. You didn’t want either of them hearing this knowing they'd reprove.

Grimlock tilted his head slightly and thought about it for a second, contemplating your words and considering it heavily.

“Of course, puny Autobots can visit Grimlock and Dinobots anytime.” He replied in a low, almost soft tone, as if he was somewhat uncertain but willing to give it a try. You couldn’t really make it out as his helm was that of a T-Rex but you swore you saw a smile.

— You had been visiting Grimlock and the gang regularly after missions. None of the other crew was aware of your friendship with Grimlock, Swoop and Sludge. You just told Optimus that you were ‘exploring’, thankfully, the Prime bought it since he's known you to be the curious type but never the reckless kind.

— But Prowl didn’t. Prowl knew damn well what you were doing. He just didn’t want to interfere. It wasn’t hurting anyone so he really didn’t see any reason for interference. However, Prowl was growing concerned about the extensive amount of time you spent on Dinobot Island. And he did often privately vocalise his concerns.

— You were the first to see Grimlock’s bipedal form! This confirmed your previous theory that they might be of Cybertronian descent. However, their biologies remained a mystery considering their frames weren’t built with the usual minerals and metals Cybertronians were made out of. Maybe they were the result of Sari’s Allspark key? Either way, it narrowed the possibilities. You have a datapad dedicated to figuring out the origins of the Dinobots.

— You taught Grimlock, Swoop and Sludge about Cybertron and how you were from there. You told them stories that they greatly enjoyed. Grimlock loves your stories and hearing about your life. You told him what a spark was, some of the things you told him did confuse him but he would just nod and pretend to understand while the other two look at you blankly.

— After two or three days, Grimlock will eventually reach the grimm conclusion [ba-dum tiss] that he wants to be with you after you told him what romance is and what love was. He'd always felt it but never knew how to label it. But his pride makes him feel embarrassed that a puny, tiny Autobot wiggled their way into his spark.

— Grimlock prefers to hang out with you in his T. Rex as it allows him to carry you on his back as he roams around the island and talk. Scaring the local wildlife and laughing at the way they run away while you glare at him for a moment. He doesn’t get why you don't find it funny!

— Now, Grimlock isn’t the best conversationalist out there but he is a good listener. He will listen and give his own commentary. Sometimes you rant about Bumblebee being stupid or how you fucked up. He honestly doesn’t have much to say as he’s confined to Dinobot island, nothing’s really going on in his life.

— Grimlock can be a real asshole. He will tease and joke about you, this happens mostly because he doesn’t get how to express love. Grimlock gained sentience like three days ago, give him a break. He really isn’t ready for such complex emotions, he’s brutally blunt and doesn’t usually care how blunt he is. So he will end up coming off as insensitive. He's new to this relationship stuff!

— He will try to find some other way to annoy you if you tell him that his teasing is annoying or if you don’t like it. Grimlock is smug.

— The second he sees your drooping expression in response to his words of mockery, he will freeze. Grimlock was just being playful! He didn’t mean to make you sad! He doesn't understand the weight of his words and he's still new to empathy.

— Grimlock will laugh at your fuck ups. He will laugh at anyone and everyone’s fuck ups. You’re no exception unfortunately. Grimlock would fearlessly laugh in the face of Primus without any hesitation. He’s just that kind of bot. He does not give a fuck. He doesn’t know how to hold back a laugh either

— It should be noted that his sense of humor can be bubbled down to Tom and Jerry or Oggy And The Cockroaches. He's immature. People accidentally hurting themselves, childish irony and bad puns make him laugh out loud. He would watch children's cartoons and laugh at them but then immediately smolder and stop laughing when Sari tells him that they're for children. Now he doesn't want to watch them. He cannot fathom higher forms of comedy like sarcasm, he will try to get it but it just doesn't tickle his funny bone..

— He’s a tsundere. Big fucking tsundere. But instead of blushing like an anime girl, Grim just grunts and his voice goes in a slightly higher pitch. He does get all nervous like an anime girl though. You can see him blush slightly if you look really closely onto his faceplates when he’s in his bipedal form, what really gives it away is his click of his cooling fans and the not so subtle steam from his vents.

— Despite his tsundere nature, Grimlock will do whatever you want him to. Grimlock is a simp (we saw that in the Blackarachnia ep), no questions asked. He will not hesitate to do whatever you want him to. Especially if he’s fallen for you hard.

— If you tease him back, he will pout and protest. Won’t admit it but he likes being commanded around by you. Grimlock can be really adorable without ever realizing it. Wait. Did you call him… adorable? Are you falling for a fragging metal dinosaur? Tch. Tch. Tch. What would the others think?

— The first sign that shows that Grimlock is deeply in love with you, is that he stops referring to you as ‘puny Autobot’ or by your alt. mode with robot as a suffix but rather by your name. 'Car robot', 'truck robot', 'jet robot'... depends on your alternate mode but he will stop calling you that.

— Grimlock, unlike Predaking, has no restraint when it comes to jealousy. He will openly fling himself onto Swoop or Sludge if they are taking too much of your time and attention away from Grimlock. You’re unaware that the conflict is because of you, you just think that Grimlock has some weird spontaneous battle instinct. You look clueless and confused, trying your best to diffuse the situation if it's getting out of hand. You wouldn’t be surprised, Grimlock and the others do have play-fights with each other. And when they do, you always cheer for Grim

— He hates that you can’t spend all the time you have with Grimlock here on Dinobot island. Grimlock desperately wants to spend more time with you. he kinda wishes that you were also a Dinobot, he hates knowing that you spend more time with the others.

— Sludge and Swoop are completely aware of Grim’s huge crush on you but they shut up about it knowing that Grimlock would throw them into the sea if they ever revealed it. But they do tease him. A lot. It would go like "Hey, [name] ! Did you know that Grim has a-" *ding* *ding*, Grimlock has KOed the opponent!. Flying punch to their faceplates in his bipedal.

— You were also quite attached to Grimlock which is why, when you ventured to the island and saw Meltdown, you quickly informed Prowl all panicked.

— Grimlock seethes with jealousy knowing that you’re under the command of Optimus and not him. He constantly tries to put up displays of strength by lifting up stuff like boulders or heavy weighing items or heck, you to show you how much cooler he is than Optimus. Honestly, he just hates Optimus. Optimus does not understand why Grimlock dislikes him so much when the two meet up once again because of Meltdown. Once Meltdown was defeated, an terribly embarrassing exchange of words took place.

“Listen, Grimlock, I don't understand why you don’t like me. If it's about-” Grimlock rudely cuts off a stern and angry Optimus. “No! Me, Grimlock don’t like you not because you put Grimlock and friends into cement!” He snarled, irritated. Grimlock was easily annoyed and the way Prime was so persistent on an answer bothered him. You, Prowl, Sentinel and the rest of the Dinobots went silent as all of you watched this exchange.

The tension withered away as awkwardness crept into the empty space left for words as the T. Rex figured out what to say next, a hint of vulnerability as he looked down, trying to articulate what was on his processor. Grimlock switched to his bipedal form, facing away from you and Optimus. Optimus looked confused, very confused. He was almost certain that was the reason.

“Well, then… Why do you hate me?”

Grimlock grumbles something, incomprehensible to Optimus which makes Optimus' temper flare, he's in a bad mood and the Prime only just wants to resolve this mystery dispute he has with Grimlock and he doesn't even have the slightest clue over what Grimlock is being so aggressive over. “Come on, Grimlock! I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!” He exclaimed with a hint of exasperation, the Prime was extremely frustrated. Optimus wanted to right whatever wrongs he did to Grimlock, he’s certain that Grimlock could prove to be a powerful and useful ally, given how he helped out with tackling Metldown. Only if he weren’t such a difficult mech!

“You have what Grimlock wants.” He speaks, hesitant. His tone was low and uncharacteristically soft, almost as if he was embarrassed.

”Well, what do you want?” Optimus asks, completely dumbfounded now. He questioned if Grimlock even had the capacity to have interests other than wrecking things and fighting. What could he possibly have that Grimlock would want? Was it oil? Energon?

“Grimlock wants… Grimlock likes…” He’s simply too embarrassed to say it out loud, his optics fixated on the ground as if he was some overgrown sparkling. He sighs and lifts a single digit, pointing at you. Helm to the floor as his faceplates are practically on fire, steam puffing from his vents as his dermas are pursed into a thin line.

“...”

“Pfft- reall- OW.” Prowl bonked Sentinel’s head.

— After the whole extremely awkward confession, Optimus agreed to let you hang out more often on Dinobot Island but now the aura between you and Grimlock is also extremely awkward. Bumblebee is teasing you. Sentinel on the other hand thinks its pathetic, he isn’t even a proper Cybertronian for Primus’ sake. Prowl isn't sure how to feel and Bulkhead is sort of supportive? He thinks it's sweet.

You and Grimlock were sitting on the floor, Grimlock was in his bipedal form with his legs crossed, you sat in a similar posture next to him, both of your optics averted from one another as you stare into the grassy ground below you.

“…” Grimlock began as he leaned close towards you. “Me, Grimlock, am sorry for…”

You cut him off as you hesitantly turn towards him. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything, Grim.”

You cupped his helm between your servos and he's frozen, you've never really touched him so tenderly but he immediately loves it. “I… kinda like you too.” You muttered out with embarrassment, your own faceplates on fire as you look away for a moment.

Grimlock felt like the happiest mech alive at that moment, his faceplates flushed and his jaw slightly parted as his optics went wide, of course you wouldn’t notice his optics due to his visor. You know what, maybe truck robot isn’t so bad after all.

— Grimlock lets you hold his flame sword but he’s extremely cautious about the whole thing to make sure that his sword doesn’t even bring the slightest harm to you. Grimlock doesn't want you hurt. He cares deeply about you.

— Grimlock is the type of guy to try and fight the sun if you start complaining about how hot it is. He might not look like it but he’s willing to go across the universe for you.

— One time, you caressed his helm when he was in bipedal form and his head literally caught on fire. You were extremely concerned after that. Grimlock had to convince you that it was a natural response to affectionate touch.

— The thing Grimlock likes the most about you is the way that you treat him. Everyone else treats him like an idiot, even his fellow Dinobots sometimes but you don’t see him as a brainless brute. You treat him with patience and respect and that makes him swoon.

— He will give you rides on his back in T. Rex mode.

— Grimlock is a huge cuddle bug. He craves your physical touch and affection and attention constantly. Grimlock can be real childish some(most)times.

— If you won’t give him the attention he so desperately craves for, he will just loom over you and follow you around in his alt. mode until you do. He’s like a puppy but a really stubborn one. He demands your attention. He will even swoop you up into his servos at one point with pleading optics.

— If you threw something, Grimlock will fetch it for you out of pure impulse. Running after it in his T Rex alternate and walking back to you in bipedal with the item in his servos. As I mentioned before, he’s like an over-grown puppy that can breathe fire.

—When it comes to romance, Grimlock is probably one of the most coy mechs out there. Grimlock tries to be stoic but it doesn’t work, he falls apart fast. Simplest words of affection like “I love you.” or “I missed you.” is enough for him to go from confident to shy in an instant. Interfacing would probably kill him from embarrassment.

— But once he gets used to your words (which he will at some point), he will just be incredibly smug about it. Like you missed him? Hah! Of course you would! He's the Grimlock. There's a lot to miss about him.

— Grimlock adores rubs, neck scratches and just being caressed in any way. He hates getting tickled though. Grimlock is really ticklish and you have used that to your advantage on multiple occasions.

— Grimlock loves it when you fawn over how cool he is and he will get jealous of whoever else you find really cool, the poor bots that are on your ‘cool people’ list are the sworn enemies of Grimlock. They are his tackling practice dummies.

— P r a i s e t h e m i g h t y G r i m l o c k. Feed his ego and tell him how amazing he is. He will be cocky afterwards so brace yourself for the consequences. The other dinobots will damn you for that because now they have to put up with an even more ego inflated Grimlock.

— He might not say it outright but he’s actually sort of embarrassed at his way of speech. Grimlock just doesn’t know how to speak outside of in third person and he won’t show it but he’s sort of insecure about it. He’s insecure about lots of things and he needs your constant reassurance. Grimlock is well aware that everyone thinks that he’s just a big dumb brute and he doesn’t want you of all people to think so about him. He usually doesn’t care about what other’s think but what you think means the world to him.

— He’s a sucker for headpats.

— Since he can breathe fire, sometimes he takes the liberty of being a walking talking heater. You rest on his chassis, face against his chest as he warms himself up and the two of you drift off into recharge.

— He will get all flustered over the smallest bits of affection. Yes, even hand-holding. Holding each other’s servos is probably his favourite thing to do with you. Yours are very nice to hold onto and he likes how it feels to have your digits intertwined. He loves you servos in general because you use them to touch him.

— One time, you smothered Grimlock’s faceplates in kisses while you sat on his lap and his whole frame went rigid. He swore that he almost passed out from overheating. The confident leader of the Dinobots turned into a stuttering mess. Just don’t do it in front of the others... please.

— Grimlock pretends to hate pet names but he actually kind of likes them. Its a love-hate relationship.

— Grimlock loves it when you bring back things for him from your missions. He revels knowing the fact that he’s always on your mind. His favourite things you bring back for him are probably the weird dinosaur keychains. Grimlock is flattered that the humans make merchandising of him and it sort of makes him more chill around humans.

— Now, the love of his life is an Autobot who’s here on Earth to take care of the Decepticon pest so naturally you have to engage in the field and he won’t say it but he’s worried. You’re so puny and small... the Decepticons are so much more deadly! He knew that especially since Megatron basically made him. Speaking of which, you came to learn you were dating the enemy’s technical ‘son’. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

— Speaking of Decepticons, he will without hesitation tackle down a Decepticon if they are a treat to your life in any way whatsoever with Swoop and Snarl joining in. They will literally jump the Decepticon which ends up giving the rest of you time to prepare yourselves.

— Grimlock will gladly accompany you on a mission if you ask him to tag along. Him falling for you has made him far more complacent with the Autobots as a whole so Optimus is a bit more approving of your relationship. You're like Cybertron's ambassador to Dinobot island.

— You had to introduce him and the rest of the Dinobots to hygiene. Like, none of them cleaned themselves until you came along.

— He really really really loves you, he’s your number one simp and fanboy. If anyone insults or makes jokes about you when he’s around, he will start a fight. Only Grimlock is allowed to tease you. Bumblebee once joked about how shitty your aim was when Grimlock was present and Grimlock began rambling on in grammatically broken sentences that would’ve made any English teacher’s head explode about how amazing you are then and there. Anime fans can’t compare to the way he defends you from such horrendous accusations.

— You’re probably the only person who’s able to make Grimlock form a sentence without using less than fifteen words.

— Grimlock love love love loves when you come to him for protection from something. He loves knowing that you rely on him and yes, he will be smug about it. He’s just like that.

— In private, he will be slightly bolder and give you soft chaste kisses on your faceplates.

— Rest of the crew teases the fuck out of the two of you, except Ratchet. Sentinel is on your case 24/7 and Optimus… doesn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, your relationship is cute and helps repair his and Grimlock’s weird enemy-friendship but on the other hand… It's Grimlock. He’s like the most arrogant mech the Prime has ever met. Bumblebee calls you a ‘Xenophile’ as a joke while Sari teases you, asking you where your dinosaur boyfriend is (you had to do research to understand what a boyfriend was). Prowl is like 'i know what kind of bot you are' with a knowing smile and Bulkhead is lowkey very chill about it, he's given you his thumbs-up.

— This mech is willing to give you his life. He really loves and cherishes you. Grimlock is a good boyfriend. For a ruthless fighting machine. Golden retriever but really possessive.

also, if it does interest anyone, a friend of mine decided to use these HCs to make a fanfic series on ao3! please check it out, it's titled Dino Lover!

[soisaidfine]

'dying young', by Bruce Springsteen / Ethel Cain: I think I’m going to die soon

@mothercain: "I think I’m going to die soon"

It was so painful to listen to Ethel Cain today on NTS Live. I thought of this text by Bruce Springsteen from his memoir.

"so assumption number one is you are going to keep breathing. In my business, the above case studies prove, no matter who you are, that's not as easy as it sounds."

Bruce Springsteen: “The heart of rock will always remain a primal world of action. The music revives itself over and over again in that form, primitive rockabilly, punk, hard soul and early rap. Integrating the world of thought and reflection with the world of primitive action is not a necessary skill for making great rock 'n' roll. Many of the music's most glorious moments feel as though they were birthed in an explosion of raw talent and creative instinct (some of them even were!). But … if you want to burn bright, hard and long, you will need to depend on more than your initial instincts. You will need to develop some craft and a creative intelligence that will lead you farther when things get dicey. That's what'll help you make crucial sense and powerful music as time passes, giving you the skills that may also keep you alive, creatively and physically. The failure of so many of rock's artists to outlive their expiration date of a few years, make more than a few great albums and avoid treading water, or worse, I felt was due to the misfit nature of those drawn to the profession. These were strong, addictive personalities, fired by compulsion, narcissism, license, passion and an inbred entitlement, all slammed over a world of fear, hunger and insecurity. That's a Molotov cocktail of confusion that can leave you unable to make, or resistant to making, the lead of consciousness a life in the field demands. After first contact knocks you on your ass, you'd better have a plan, for some preparedness and personal development will be required if you expect to hang around any longer than your fifteen minutes.

Now, some guys' five minutes are worth other guys' fifty years, and while burning out in one brilliant supernova will send record sales through the roof, leave you living fast, dying young, leaving a beautiful corpse, there is something to be said for living. Personally, I like my gods old, grizzled and here. I'll take Dylan; the pirate raiding party of the Stones; the hope-I-get-very-old-before-I-die, present live power of the Who; a fat, still-mesmerizing-until-his-death Brando—they all suit me over the alternative. I would've liked to have seen that last Michael Jackson show, a seventy-year-old Elvis reinventing and relishing in his talents, where Jimi Hendrix might've next taken the electric guitar, Keith Moon, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain and all the others whose untimely deaths and lost talents stole something from the music I love, living on, enjoying the blessings of their gifts and their audience's regard. Aging is scary but fascinating, and great talent morphs in strange and often enlightening ways. Plus, to those you've received so much from, so much joy, knowledge and inspiration, you wish life, happiness and peace. These aren't easy to come by.

Youth and death have always been an intoxicating combination for the myth makers left amongst the living. And dangerous, even violent, self-loathing has long been an essential ingredient in the fires of transformation. When the "new self" burns to life, the twins of great control and recklessness are immutably linked. It's what makes life interesting. The high tension between those two forces often makes a performer fascinating and fun to watch, but also a white-cross highway marker. Here, many who've come this way have burned out hard or died. The rock death cult is well loved and chronicled in literature and music, but in practice, there ain't much in it for the singer and his song, except a good life unlived, lovers and children left behind, and a six-foot-deep hole in the ground. The exit in a blaze of glory is bullshit.

Now, if you're not one of the handful of music revolutionaries—and I was not—you naturally set your sights on something different. In a transient field, I was suited for the long haul. I had years of study behind me; I was physically built to endure and by disposition was not an edge dweller. I was interested in what I might accomplish over a lifetime of music making, so assumption number one is you are going to keep breathing. In my business, the above case studies prove, no matter who you are, that's not as easy as it sounds."

― Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run

[lieutenant-amuel]

I’m (Not) Okay

Fandom: Lilo & Stitch

Characters: Wendy Pleakley, Lilo Pelekai, Nani Pelekai, Cobra Bubbles, Jumba Jookiba, Stitch

Word count: 780

Summary: Pleakley is getting used to living on Earth.

A/N: It takes place shortly after the end of the first movie. I read someone’s post on Tumblr where the author said it would be interesting if the series delved into what Jumba and Pleakley thought about living on Earth so this is what inspired me to write it. Nothing breathtaking, just a quick ficlet.

—————————————————————��——

“Yes, yes. I’m staying on Earth, Mom.” Pleakley circled around his room in the Pelekai’s house and turned his head away from the screen of his phone in hope his mother wouldn’t notice how he was biting his fingers. “I’m living under the same roof with that criminal and the monster who chewed on my head I told you about. I’ll be fine!”

Pleakley chuckled and stopped, turning his head back only to see his mother’s confused face and that her eye was about to pop out of her orbit as she was listening to him.

“Hehe… I mean… There’s a terrible connection here on Earth! I’ll call you later. Bye! Just know I’m okay!”

Pleakley slammed the phone face down on the table and put his hands on his head, letting out a shriek.

He was not… okay!

Fired from the Galactic Federation and forever stuck on this primitive planet where everything was trying to kill him! On top of being roommates with the criminal who got him into this in the first place!

The aftermath was so different from what he imagined his travel to Earth would bring him. After all, it was the planet that had been fascinating him for many years.

He thought he would capture 626 - or Stitch, the way they all called this destructive little monster now - and come back to the Galactic Federation as a hero. Gaining the Councilwoman’s trust who would grant him more opportunities to continue studying Earth and Earthlings.

He would come back to his home planet as a hero. Making his family proud and proving to them that he didn’t waste his life by becoming an Earth expert.

He could have achieved so much! He could have been respected!

But his lot was to vegetate here, tolerating Jumba’s snoring when he was trying to fall asleep and surviving Stitch’s destructive outbursts.

Pleakley took a deep breath, and his hand slowly reached for the drawer. He opened it and smiled a bit. It was the drawer where he kept his wigs that he wore as part of his human disguise on Earth. Pleakley gently ran his fingers through the red curls of the wig and put it on his head. He looked at the mirror that was standing on the drawer and fixed the wig, winding the hair strand around his finger.

He admired his reflection for a while and flinched when he heard a voice coming from the doorway.

“Pleakley?” Lilo opened the door a crack, and Pleakley quickly took off his wig, hiding it behind his back. “Cobra Bubbles is here for dinner. Are you coming?”

Pleakley lowered his head, glancing at the wig, and smiled broadly, waving his arms in excitement.

“Yes, yes! I’m coming! I’ll join you in a moment!”

Pleakley opened the chest where he kept his clothes and sorted through different dresses to see which one would look best on him tonight. He chose the dress he wore on his first day on Earth, quickly applied makeup, and as he was standing in front of the mirror, he was about to put on a hat but the time was running out, he didn’t want to make their guest wait.

Pleakley ran into the kitchen, helping Nani set the table, and took his seat, exchanging pleasantries with Cobra Bubbles as if he forgot the social worker had already known that he was an alien.

Their dinner had officially begun, and Lilo was showing Stitch different types of cutlery to teach him table manners. Jumba quickly devoured his meal, asking for more, and Pleakley twisted his face upon looking at him. He shifted his gaze from Jumba to Cobra Bubbles and saw how he was leaning close to Nani’s ear.

“I’m glad everything is working out, Nani.”

Nani looked at everyone at the table. First at Pleakley who immediately lowered his head and started cutting the turkey when he caught Nani’s eyes on him. Then at Jumba who was getting into Pleakley’s plate, asking him to share his meal with him.

“This is not how I imagined our life to go.” Nani’s eyes fell on Lilo who was laughing at how Stitch was trying to hold the fork in his paw, and she smiled, turning her head to Cobra Bubbles. “But I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

Cobra Bubbles nodded and finally got to eating his meal. Pleakley took a napkin, wiping his hands, and watched everyone at the table. They laughed, chatted, joked, looked at each other lovingly, and Pleakley couldn’t help but smile upon looking at them as he was thinking about what Nani said.

Maybe he already had everything he ever wanted too.

[mercutiothedestroyer]

Hii, I think I have another very random question for you (I don't know if it's "fun," though, haha) xD If you could spend a day with one of the Scouts in our world, who would you pick? Where would you take them and why? What do you think they'd be interested in seeing or doing? 😁

Hello again @storiesofaot, thank you so much for another wonderful ask,

I will say if I could pick a scout to show our world, I definitely think Hange and I would get on like a house on fire. Sure they might be handful springing from place to place to see all they can but I think the two of us would have a blast together especially if I were to show them to some science museums. They’d wanna see all the exhibits especially if they were interactive with things like screens or things you could build with.

I imagine they’d would be fascinated by the technology of our world, especially when you consider how they reacted to primitive versions of things like rockets and automobiles. Anything scientific would have them bouncing off the walls with excitement.

I also think they’d have a blast at an arcade all the flashing lights and exciting noises they’d probably loose their mind with excitement, not that they had a lot of sanity already lol

[barn-anon]

He is confused, he has been lost for days. Where is he? He doesn't remember leaving the ship or any attack. He's been walking through the wilderness for days, god his armour has seen better days. He hopes this planet is inhabited, even if it's some primitive backwards world.. he can figure some way to leave the planet and rejoin his legion, his brothers, return to his Primarch.

He doesn't quite recognize the stars at night, the landscape is rather scenic though. Once he gets back to his legion, he will try to paint the sunsets he has seen here so far. Sketch the fascinating wildlife and colorful flowers he has seen so far. For now though, it feels like he's the only person on the planet. There isn't a hint of civilization and he's been walking for almost a week.

Wait.. smoke! There's smoke on the horizon! That might mean a campfire. People, maybe a settlement or a campsite. He starts making his way towards it, power spear in hand, ready for a fight in case the people proved to be hostile. Instead when he reaches the source of the fire, he just finds a young woman in the middle of setting up her tent.

She doesn't look malnourished or anything, simply startled by his sudden appearance. She's not screaming or trying to run from him though, so that must mean she's seen Space Marines before right? That they're at least friendly enough with the humans on this planet. He steps into the campsite and eyes her curiously, she seems okay with him being here, even handing him what looks like a food bar. Doesn't speak gothic though and her clothes... not medieval but it looks like one suited to cooler temperatures. Odd, the evenings haven't been particularly cold to him but he chalks that to his superhuman nature.

He awkwardly takes a seat on a boulder nearby, taking his helmet off to eat it. The wrapper has words on it, he doesn't recognize the sigils on it. Is this maybe a planet still untouched by the Great Crusade? Well, at least this world isn't exactly some backwards feudal world, judging by the clothes of the woman and her belongings. Hm, he'll make sure to mention it once he gets back, the Imperium could always use more planets like this.

He watches the young woman, is she here alone? Nothing in the area hints at the presence of another person. That's not safe, doesn't she know it's dangerous? Is she maybe lost? He can make sure nothing happens to her-

He frowns, since when did he care that much for a human he had just met? She seems perfectly capable on her own, so why...? He looks at the food bar in his hands, she's currently packing some of her belongings and taking out some other items. Well it's not as if he has anywhere he knows to go, he hasn't seen any other sentient beings... it wouldn't hurt if he stuck around right?

Tagged: @kit-williams • @egrets-not-regrets • @bleedingichorhearts

[dr-octavio-kalev]

TW: Violence/gore

"(ง •̀_•́)ง"

ANM #: ANM-237 - "Captain Franz Ferdinand"

Danger Level: Snit 🟡 | Uncontained ❌️

Lead Researcher: Dr. Öctavio Kalev

Anomaly Type: Rural, ogre-like, military, hunter

Containment: ANM-237 is currently uncontained and remains in its natural habitat, a remote swamp in Eastern Europe near the German border. Mobile Task Force ("Gardeners") has been assigned to monitor the location and activities of ANM-237, maintaining a perimeter around the swamp to prevent unauthorized access. Any civilian attempting to enter the area should be detained and amnesticized.

Efforts to communicate with ANM-237 must be conducted from a safe distance using illustrated boards. Personnel are advised not to enter ANM-237’s territory without explicit authorization and appropriate protective equipment due to the highly infectious nature of the bacteria on the arrows shot by ANM-237.

Description: ANM-237 is a humanoid entity resembling an ogre from medieval culture, standing approximately 4.20 meters (13 feet, 9 inches) tall. It has a bulky and muscular physique, covered in thick, dark hair, with very thick, bronze-toned skin. Its mouth and hands are often stained with dried blood. ANM-237's facial features include a broad, flat face, a prominent underbite, and thick, yellowed teeth, which it appears to never brush. Its eyes are large and yellowish-white, indicative of chronic sleep deprivation, giving it a wild, lupine appearance.

ANM-237's hair is disheveled and straight, with a rough, uneven cut, likely made using a primitive tool, such as a sharp flint. It maintains a beard along its sideburns, creating a rudimentary style. ANM-237 wears old, tattered medieval leather armor, scavenged from abandoned ruins and held together by leather straps and frayed ropes.

ANM-237 exhibits a unique form of non-verbal communication through crude yet coherent drawings. Despite its unrecognizable native language and illiteracy, ANM-237 quickly grasps basic ideas conveyed through illustrations. Its own drawings often depict historical figures, particularly military leaders, showing a deep fascination with history and war.

The entity refers to itself as "Captain Franz Ferdinand," drawing a parallel with the historical Austro-Hungarian archduke whose assassination triggered World War I. ANM-237 demonstrates a nuanced understanding of complex historical events and military strategies, often identifying key figures and their roles in various conflicts through its sketches.

ANM-237's diet primarily consists of human remains, which it obtains through hunting or scavenging. Its preference is for heads, which it consumes and uses to mark its territory around the swamp by impaling them on stumps or tying them to branches. ANM-237 has shown rudimentary cooking skills, preparing its meals using an improvised stone hearth in its dwelling.

ANM-237 is heavily armed with a bow and an improvised wooden sword, as well as a quiver made from human skin and other materials, and a machete made from human bones. Its arrows are contaminated with a potent mixture of bacteria capable of causing severe infections in humans. Its swamp is filled with primitive traps, and it is often observed singing guttural chants while dancing around its fire. It is important to note that due to its exaggerated size, its weapons are made to be used more nimbly by its large hands; thus, its knife is the size of a machete, and its arrows are equivalent to ballista bolts.

ANM-237's movements are clumsy but deliberate, reflecting its immense size and strength. It walks on two sturdy legs, each ending in a large, calloused foot with five thick toes and gnarled nails. Despite its imposing stature, ANM-237 exhibits a surprising level of dexterity when engaged in tasks requiring fine motor skills, such as drawing or cooking.

Incident Report: Initial Attempt to Interact with ANM-237

Date: 11/03/20██

Location: [REDACTED] Swamp, Eastern Europe

Assigned Personnel:

Dr. Emil Krauss (Lead Researcher)

Agent R. DeWitt (Field Operator)

Agent S. Oleski (Field Operator)

MTF "Gardeners"

Preface:

After initial sightings of ANM-237, a containment team was dispatched to establish contact and assess the viability of containment. Due to the entity’s apparent illiteracy and unrecognized native language, researchers prepared a series of drawings to communicate basic ideas and intentions.

[...]

[BEGIN LOG]

10:02 AM:

The team sets up a temporary observation post 200 meters from ANM-237's known location. Dr. Krauss, using binoculars, observes ANM-237 near a campfire, apparently cooking the carcass of a recently hunted human. The initial approach strategy is discussed.

10:15 AM:

Agents DeWitt and Oleski approach the edge of ANM-237's territory, equipped with protective gear and a stack of pre-drawn sketches. They begin by placing some sketches on the ground and retreating 50 meters, maintaining communication at a distance.

10:20 AM:

ANM-237 notices the stack of papers and cautiously approaches. It inspects the sketches, which depict a group of humans gathering peacefully, offering food in exchange for conversation. ANM-237 appears intrigued but confused.

10:25 AM:

ANM-237 responds by drawing on the board with charcoal from its campfire. It crudely sketches an imposing figure surrounded by smaller humans, arrows drawn from the smaller figures to the larger one, implying leadership. ANM-237 labels itself as “Captain” (misspelled) and points to its own chest.

10:30 AM:

Dr. Krauss instructs the team to present additional sketches. They draw a simplified map of the area with a small building labeled "Home" (representing a containment cell). They depict ANM-237 inside, engaging in activities such as drawing, eating, and interacting with researchers.

10:35 AM:

ANM-237 examines the map and draws a large “X” over the “Home,” then sketches itself holding a club and standing over several stick-figure humans. It appears agitated and begins circling the team's position.

10:40 AM:

Agent DeWitt attempts to calm the situation by drawing a figure offering a gift (food) to ANM-237, accompanied by an arrow pointing to ANM-237’s mouth, symbolizing friendship and sharing. ANM-237 pauses, observing the drawing carefully.

10:45 AM:

ANM-237 responds with a surprisingly detailed sketch of a battlefield, labeling one side as "Friends" and the other as "Enemies." It places itself leading the “Friends” against the “Enemies,” who are depicted with human faces contorted in fear or agony.

10:50 AM:

Dr. Krauss and the team recognize ANM-237's fixation on conflict and its self-identification as a leader. A new sketch is prepared, depicting ANM-237 in a similar “leader” role but among researchers, suggesting cooperation instead of conflict.

10:55 AM:

ANM-237 seems to consider this for several minutes, then draws a simple sketch of a human head being eaten, adding several lines to indicate its territory. It then circles the head in its sketch with a thick line, pointing to it and then to itself.

11:00 AM:

ANM-237 becomes visibly agitated, possibly interpreting the containment proposal as a challenge to its authority or autonomy. It smashes a rock with its fists, shattering it, and emits a guttural roar.

11:05 AM:

MTF is placed on high alert as ANM-237 begins patrolling the perimeter of its territory, watching the team. Any further attempts at communication are suspended, and the team withdraws to a safer distance to avoid escalation.

[END LOG]

Post-Incident Analysis:

The use of drawings proved effective in eliciting responses from ANM-237 but highlighted its resistance to perceived control or containment. Its self-proclaimed role as a "leader" complicates efforts to communicate containment intentions without provoking aggression.

Future attempts should focus on establishing communication through symbolic representations of mutual respect and autonomy, rather than direct containment proposals. ANM-237's fixation on leadership roles may be leveraged to guide its behavior into less hostile patterns.

Final Notes:

ANM-237's behavior suggests a combination of primitive savagery and childlike curiosity, particularly in its fascination with the world beyond its swampy domain. Its self-proclaimed role as a “captain” and its focus on historical military figures indicate a possible desire for recognition or an attempt to imitate human social hierarchies.

Efforts to study ANM-237’s historical knowledge are ongoing, with the potential to uncover the source of its anomalous understanding of human history. Researchers are advised to proceed with caution, as ANM-237’s unpredictable nature and deadly capabilities pose a significant risk to personnel.g

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Little snipped, might make this into a oneshot

Izuku gave a small sigh as he looked around the jungle like forest. He held his little sibling close against his chest, one hand to support them and the other to hold a knife. Not only to defend them from any monsters but also to fend their way deeper into the jungle.

He was convinced that he had found an ideal spot for an old temple of the Hadean civilization. He had dedicated his life to translating their scrolls and stone slates. His efforts bore fruits as he had found put the most of their society, found the most temples out of all his piers. This time he was convinced he was close to their main temple.

They worshipped animal like gods like a lot of civilizations during that time. They had a God for gambling, plays and jokes that was half human half hawk, always depicted with a playful grin and a a few primitive dice. He was known to play tricks if he wasn't satisfied with offerings.

They had various different gods but the most important ones were the elemental beings and the serpent of war, blood and pain as well as fertility, harvest and wealth. Depicted as half human and half rattle snake. The legends say that this brutal God took care of the first humans there, he fought wars with other elemental Gods and where his blood soaked the battle field fruitful land was later. The Haedians worshipped him by human sacrifices like their hearts. He seemed to be fascinated by the human hearts and loved them. He was always depicted in heavy battles scars, long hair and a necklace made out of teeth.

From all the depictions, it seemed that the humans brought dead to his temple first to get them blessed before burying them. The blessing was the cruel part. All possible blood was extracted, and then the fields were watered with it. But sometimes he was depicted with an elemtal serpent, the serpent of fire, quite fitting if one would ask him. Since the serpent not only depicted protective and healing fire but also chaos and destruction. Depicted as half human and half blue coral snake with burns on his body and a fire crown.

I do not remember what species they were exactly.

OMG COOKIE JAR!

I demand you turn this into a one shot, I fucking love this so damn much.

Yall, pay respects!

[allieda]

ok since im done transformers generation 1 seasons 1-3 i said (at some point) earlier that i was gonna list some favorite episodes from transformers g1. this is my TOP TEN in NO SPECIFIC ORDER with some SHORT REASONS AND PERSONAL THOUGHTS!

fire in the sky - this was the episode that actually made me start to pay serious attention to the show during season 1 as it is strangely compelling. the skyfire and starscream unrepairable estranged friendship dynamic is a classic what else is there to say?

autobot spike - slightly unsettling episode where the token human companion gets his mind put in a machine. very fun concept and the execution is also rather effective. some very good megatron moments where he manipulates spike. is also the season 2 opener episode.

the master builder - grapple experiences an intense case of artistic hubris as he teams up with the constructicons to build a metaphorical 'tower of babil'. i worded this rather seriously. its not even that serious? its good though. i like grapple's personality a lot.

auto-berserk - red alert has an intense paranoid breakdown and teams up with starscream out of genuine terror for his own life. really fun plot with some delightful character moments.

a decepticon raider in king arthur's court - just as funny as it sounds. some autobots and decepticons get transported into medieval times. its really hysterical. the ending is also incredibly funny.

surprise party - super cute episode. daniel and wheelie (the youngster characters) want to find out ultra magnus' birth date so they can plan an eventual birthday party for him. hijicks ensue. they get kidnapped by the decepticons. its just really funny and cute.

webworld - galvatron is shipped off to a 'therapy planet' due to his volatile madness and some sort of bizarre analysis and parody of psychiatric fields takes place. absolutely fascinating episode for analysis. cyclonus is really good in this one.

nightmare planet - i dont have elaborate reasoning for this one i just think this is a really good episode in the case that it shows rodimus' kindness and genuinity. hes a sweetheart in this one. also i like the dream stuff. it's good fun!

five faces of darkness part 1-5 - season 3's huge 5-parter intro. fun establishment of the season 3's core main cast (who are extremely fun characters) with some really fun moments and lines.

prime target - optimus prime gets challenged by a hunter and he accepts the challenge. extremely hysterical episode. if you want to optimus get very pissed off and annoyed this is the one you should see

SPECIAL MENTIONS: starscream's ghost (all time classic. i love octane.), call of the primitives (has a really striking art style change and animation moments), the burden hardest to bear (all time classic rodimus episode), microbots (theres a scene when the decepticons get drunk as fuckkkk), the god gambit (astrotrain plays god to a bunch of aliens, which i personally really found fun), desertion of the dinobots two-parter (i am a huge fan of when the humans get to run around and do stuff).

[aestheticcore]

For the Love of Adventurecore

My love for Adventurecore runs deep, capturing the very essence of my soul’s longing for untamed wilderness and the thrill of exploration. I am captivated by the rustic-ness that permeates every aspect of it—the rough textures of leather and wool, the earthy tones of clothing and gear, and the raw, natural beauty of the landscapes that beckon me to wander. The clothing I imagine is functional yet rugged, ideal for braving the elements, while the tools I envision are simple yet essential—knives, compasses, perhaps a handmade satchel—all crafted with care, embodying a connection to tradition and craft. Each piece feels like a portal to a different time, a different world where I could truly immerse myself in the wild, feeling alive in every fiber of my being. It’s a lifestyle that celebrates self-sufficiency, adventure, and a harmonious relationship with nature, and I find myself endlessly fascinated by the arts that support it—be it woodworking, leatherworking, or crafting primitive gear that would serve me well on a trek through the untamed.

The idea of wandering an unspoiled world excites me—the sense of freedom that comes with leaving behind the familiar and venturing into the unknown. I daydream about camping beneath a blanket of stars, the crackling of a campfire mixing with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. I imagine exploring remote villages, discovering their stories and secrets, and stopping at lively taverns where the air is thick with hearty foods, laughter, and tales of heroism. To hunt game ethically, to forage for wild herbs, to cook over an open flame—these are the experiences that make my heart race and my spirit soar. The act of traveling with companions, sharing stories around a fire, and feeling the wind in my cloak as I navigate through forests and mountains fills me with a profound sense of connection to something greater than myself.

There’s an unmatched thrill in holding a sword or quiver, feeling the weight and balance in my hand, as if I’m part of a storybook fantasy come alive. The tactile sensation of leather straps against my skin, the coolness of metal, and the rhythmic swish of a cloak in the wind all combine to create a visceral experience that fuels my imagination. I love the earthy smells—the damp soil after rain, the scent of pine and cedar, the scent of worn leather and wool that has been weathered by time and adventure. These sensory details are what make Adventurecore so vivid in my mind; they transport me to a place where I can almost feel the sun on my face and the chill of mountain air in my lungs.

I derive immense satisfaction from crafting my gear and clothing—making things by hand, choosing materials, and designing items that would stand up to the rigors of exploration. It’s a form of expression and a way to connect with the core ideals of self-reliance and craftsmanship that define Adventurecore. I could fill an encyclopedia with descriptions of the different types of gear, the techniques used to create them, and the stories behind each piece. This creative process feeds my soul, giving me a sense of purpose and fulfillment, knowing that I am actively participating in the lifestyle I love, even if only in my mind.

Unfortunately, I am unable to explore this world physically anymore due to health issues, and this has left a shadow of sadness in my heart. The core of Adventurecore is not just about the physical act of wandering; it’s about the feeling it evokes—the sense of freedom, discovery, and connection. Not being able to feed that part of myself makes me depressed because it’s a vital part of who I am. I miss the sensation of wind in my cloak, the weight of my gear, and the thrill of the unknown. Yet, despite this longing, I hold onto the dreams and memories, knowing that someday I might once again embrace the untamed, wild spirit of Adventurecore, even if just through my imagination and the stories I cherish.

[wordspinning]

Ep 3 Analysis

Sorry this is like 1500 words, I am lawless and unhinged

Opening scenes hit heavy and hard, gutwrenching in large part due to their brevity and sparse dialogue. This is what the show does so well; the adaptation of the source material is made rich and given immensely greater emotional depth by leaning on what cannot be achieved in the original medium; these openers are a testament to the craft and Gabe and Bella’s mastery of it (also, visually stunning from a cinematography standpoint, especially Tommy’s scene - we very much get the sense that the fires are still raging, both within him and within the walls of Jackson)

Narratively, I understand the value of the time skip, but I’m having a hard time buying that Ellie was hospitalized for three whole months for (presumably) a punctured/collapsed lung, and Tommy and Maria didn’t at some point bring her home and care for her there. That seems like an unreasonably long recovery time, and even if her injuries were that extensive, it feels improbable that Jackson has the 24/7 nursing resources for that kind of inpatient care structure/would choose to allocate them in that way, especially if a pt had family. ANYWAY I DIGRESS, we’ve got more important ground to cover

From beginning to end, this episode was so visually stunning that it actually overloaded some brain cells and I was fighting for my life not to start six paintings simultaneously as soon as I finished watching it through the first time. I still can’t get over the masterful lighting of the house as Ellie walks through - her room full of light, Joel’s in deep shadow, except for the sunlight spilling in from the high window, coming over Ellie’s shoulder as she touches his sleeve - the visual allegories are so beautifully designed.

The cookie scene was precious. Dina and Ellie’s dynamic is so winsome, and the renegotiation and re-establishment of loyalty and trust as Dina admits the truth is honestly a pretty impressive display of acceptance on Ellie’s part. To me, the scene establishes a degree of maturity in Ellie which we didn’t see prior to this interaction.

The Uncle Tommy scene <3 I’ve got A LOT of thoughts about this one.

We see a very different Tommy here than in game, and honestly, I deeply admire and appreciate the change in writing of this character. I find it impossible to reconcile Tommy’s role as a leader of Jackson with the degree of volatility he displays in the game plot. Tommy and Maria both would have to be the best of us to keep this community on its feet; a hodge-podge group of traumatized survivors of extreme violence is going to be a powder keg in the absence of morally grounded, steady, and dependable leadership. If they had written his departure as it happens in the game, his actions would have been only intensified by the fact that he’s leaving his five-year-old child behind, and I am very glad that that is not how this is going down. I could write an essay about the absence of male role models on screens today, and the value of depicting men who are loyal to their family and community even when it’s hard, but I won’t. Suffice it to say, I think Gabe’s Tommy is a gift and a welcome adaptation of the source.

The scene with the Seraphites really opened up a whole new dimension of the world for me. I feel like to date, we haven’t really leaned into how Strange the response of society to collapse and threat of this scale would be, but the Seraphite customs begin to explore this. Humans are not going to exclusively create societies that look like the one they lost. The use of primitive weapons, the worship of a dead prophet, the (presumably) nomadic structure, all leant realism and immersion.

The council scene was one of my favorites in this episode, primarily because I remain absolutely fascinated by the concept of a community of this scale, and how to keep it from falling apart at the seams under duress. The size of the voting council surprised me (11 is a lot of people to try to reach consensus on anything, but it speaks to the character of Jackson, Maria, and Tommy that they would allow so many voting members). Robert John Burke’s performance was outstanding. I loved Ellie’s appeal directly to Maria for justice; again we see a level of maturity from Ellie that we haven’t seen before in the way she crafts her argument. I think this is important to establish before we get into the bulk of Pt2, not only because it further reinforces the impact Joel’s death has had, but also because when we see her ability to be calculated and cunning, it prepares us to believe the choices she’s going to make in upcoming episodes.

The scene with Gail and Tommy was painful, but I appreciated the layers to this conversation and the exposition it achieved. “I don’t want her to go down the same path as Joel did, coming up with justifications and such. All he was really doing was lashing out.” Ellie carrying Joel’s legacy forward, both the good and the bad, is an important theme of Pt2, and I’m glad that Tommy was the one to deliver this line and set it up for us. We have some understanding of Joel’s proclivity for violence from Pt1, but we only really saw him kill in defense of Ellie, and that’s very different moral footing than what is being implied here. Ultimately, Tommy is the one who is most intimately acquainted with Joel’s response to Sarah’s death, and there’s a very real sense of fear that he carries into this scene. To see it further reinforced by Gail with such patently unjustified certainty was devastating, and we are now enemies for life (love u Catherine <3).

Appreciated Dina judgement of the utility of Joel’s handgun lol. Wouldn’t catch me dead with a revolver as a 5’ 2” girl with no wrist strength whose hands shake when she gets nervous. At least we have a speed loader now. Flashback to screaming over the TV during the reload in the museum in Pt1 as the clicker peers over Joel’s shoulder. Loved seeing how Ellie and Dina’s strengths complement each other in this scene, as well as Dina’s unwavering loyalty. Be good to her, Ellie T_T <3

Cry count by the time we get to Joel’s grave: at least four incidents. This is the scene where my art brain officially transcended this mortal plane. The limited palette, the muted warm tones, the sun flare and the slanted, hazy light. The coffee beans, THE SMILE, and the resolve we see on Ellie’s face as she looks up at his gravestone a second time. Kill me dead. Bella, you’re incredible.

I’m super interested in Dina’s comment in the tent about Jesse. It’s unclear to me why she would attribute his pain to their relationship, considering he’s presumably lost people and feels the weight of responsibility for Jackson’s community settling increasingly on his shoulders as a council member. To me, it seemed to reveal a new layer to Dina’s character, a distrust in herself and her ability to form functional relationships, which is really incongruous with the personality she carries outwardly, and I’m really curious to see how the show uses this in the narrative moving forward.

We get two very long shots of Ellie’s reaction to the dead Seraphite girl, and her horror is apparent, then reinforced by her conversation with Dina afterward. In a very significant sense, this encounter justifies Ellie and Dina’s cause. This is no longer only about vengeance for Joel’s death, but elimination of a morally bankrupt threat to all remaining civilization, including children. I suspect that the assumption that Dina and Ellie make here forms a basis for many of their later decisions.

And then immediately followed by a revelation of the sheer firepower and resources of the WLF - deeply chilling, and this scene was crafted so well to gradually intensify the audience’s fear as the scale becomes increasingly apparent with each subsequent shot.

[thatanthagirl]

I found this post in Carl Jung and depth psychology | Facebook. I love Carl Jung & Eminem & it fascinated me to see someone relate them to each other.

Jung's work is highly criticized for not being "scientific" & is difficult to understand because he's very "complex" & "abstract". I post his work a lot, but this time, I added some definitions from Google for terms that I wasn't familiar with. I also removed some sentences of the original post that confused me, or I thought weren't relevant to the post.

---------------------------------------------

"That's who I am as well, thanks to Marshall [Mathers]'s, aka Eminem's, high art. High art is easily recognizable because it speaks to everyone in particular in a language one needs to hear. Dark art heals Dark moods. Nothing worse than, when depressed, everyone scorns you for grieving or whatever. [...]

High art is a term used to describe art forms that are considered to be of a higher quality, while dark art is a term used to describe art that explores difficult emotions.  High art: often associated with painting, sculpture, music, and architecture; often considered to be art that is created for aesthetic expression and has a deeper meaning.  Dark art: can be a way for artists to process and heal from difficult emotions; can also refer to a mysterious or secret skill or method. -- A.I. Overview -- Google 

This quote [...] should be memorized by all who have a loved one with mental illness. Or is the one himself.

DIVINE GIFT OF CREATIVE FIRE

« Back to search results for “paying dearly”

A person must pay dearly for the divine gift of creative fire. It is as though each of us was born with a limited store of energy:

( A ) In the artist, the strongest force in his make-up, that is, his creativeness, will seize & all but monopolize this energy, leaving so little over that nothing of value can come of it. The creative impulse can drain him of his humanity to such a degree that the personal ego can exist only on a primitive or inferior level & is driven to develop all sorts of defects: ruthlessness, selfishness (“autoeroticism”), vanity, & other infantile traits. These inferiorities are the only means by which it can maintain its vitality & prevent itself from being wholly depleted. (CW15 ¶ 158)

Autoeroticism is the act of experiencing sexual pleasure through internal stimuli, such as one's own body & imagination. It can also be defined as sexual feelings that arise without any known external stimulation. Autoeroticism can involve using one's imagination to become sexually aroused, such as imagining oneself in a different form. -- A.I. Overview -- Google 

AUTOEROTICISM IN CERTAIN ARTISTS IS LIKE THAT OF NEGLECTED CHILDREN

( B ) The autoeroticism of certain artists is like that of illegitimate or neglected children who, from their earliest years, develop bad qualities to protect themselves from the destructive influence of a loveless environment. Such children easily become ruthless & selfish, & later display an invincible egoism by remaining all their lives infantile & helpless or by actively offending against morality & the law. (CW15 ¶ 158)

IT IS HIS ART THAT EXPLAINS THE ARTIST

( C ) How can we doubt that it is his art that explains the artist, & not the insufficiencies & conflicts of his personal life? These are nothing but the regrettable results of his being an artist, a man upon whom a heavier burden is laid than upon ordinary mortals. A special ability demands a greater expenditure of energy, which must necessarily leave a deficit on some other side of life. (CW15 ¶ 158)

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-- Written by: Michelle Anderson

-- reposted by: Sveta Alenina

-- Artist: Unknown

[futurebird]

A world without vertebrates: Myrmecos, the planet of the ants!

So, I've been looking for a solution to the question: Why did vertebrates fail to flourish on Myrmecos?

I think I have the answer: No Armored Fishes. If there were no armored fish then the Eurypterids would have continued to be apex predators longer. Some might have filled the hunting niche of early tetrapods. Arthropods were already on land, but you get a second wave.

The land gets built up with arthropods and fish are trapped in the seas!

And in this universe earth is the exception. Not only is earth far away from all of the other living planets it's one of the few with land vertebrates. The armored fish driving tetrapods on to land was a kind of ripple in the intended pattern. It threw everything off!

And just looking at The Dunk-- it is kind of unnatural, don't you think?

This also means that the ants will keep describing humans as "intelligent life from the sea" -- even as we keep explaining that everything came from the sea and it was a long time ago...

To them having a backbone means you are adapted to living in the water.

(I'm adding "Evolution of Ant" to my list of things to draw.)

It would be like one of those old-school natural history museum murals. Starting with single-celled life in the tidal pools of early Myrmecos, then the first multicellular life, then the first sea arthropods, then a momentous moment when a little crab creature first steps on land! Then the early insects, primitive solitary wasps with the glimmers of consciousness, eusocial insects discovering fire ... and at last ants! -----

Hmm it occurs to me reading about the history of human aviation and all of those people longing "to fly" might make ants very uncomfortable.

The ants have never had much fascination with flight. (Space is another matter.) Any queen or drone can fly. It's considered a sign of maturity to pull one's wings off and get on with life.

Flying has primitive, and also vaguely sexual connotations so all the documentaries about people like the Wright Brothers just make Humans sound hopelessly horny.