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#implied violence
witchofthesouls · 23 hours
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Lately all I can think of is TFP Optimus being demon bait. Amongst every iteration that I seen with the Matrix, he feels more like a placeholder involving the relic than an actual Champion for Primus. Plus TFP is the only one who doesn't retain any knowledge about his past as Orion Pax.
Placeholders are easier to tempt than champions since they aren't fully protected or warned of the danger. The Matrix of Leadership practically rats him out to anything supernatural when you consider it acts more like a vessel unlike other relics. Optimus is gonna have a mixed time should a demon hone in on him.
I get what you're saying. All the strange and, let's face it, very sus Artifacts are painting a very wild picture.
Personally, while I do believe TFP Optimus is a legitimate Prime, he isn't a fully realized one. It gets weirder with the Canon lore in the Aligned verse that the Matrix was housed with Prima's Star Saber and that Optimus is supposed to be the reincarnation of the mysterious Thirteen. Plus, Metroplex from the games vouched his status as a Prime: "Metroplex heeds the call of the last Prime." (Fall of Cybertron game)
I wonder how come the writers didn't go with the Primal Artifacts being semi-sentient? It would really make sense with the mythos and immense powers, especially since those tools can be only wielded by a Prime. So the building blocks were there. Or, have the ghost of Prima within the Matrix that's controlling new ordained champions, and it's intefering with Thirteen's connections? The Matrix has an established history of reformatting new bearers, so is it a big surprise that they're turned into Prima's thoughts of a prefect guardian? Prima has different Aspects and Domains compared to his youngest brother.
The themes of identity and self-determination are there. I think he internally struggled with it. Is he Orion Pax of Alpha Trion? Optimus Prime of Prima? Are they one and the same mask? Does he remember the Wilds in his dreams? Did he have hopes and plans for reconstruction? At night, does he recounts all the steps that brought him to that point?
But yeah, TFP!Optimus would be a succulent prize for a supernatural entity. The Matrix is both a beacon and lighthouse. To see a mortal God-King or a divine champion drowning in uncertainty would turn the very dangerous or very desperate towards him because a contract could be established.
Weirdly enough, out of all the Autobots, I think Optimus would have the easiest time navigating any potential entities. Orion Pax lived and breathed in doublespeak as an archivist directly sponsored by Alpha Trion himself. He knows the intricate dance to steer between treacherous allies and hostile enemies and how to be very leery of certain agreements. Orion was stuck between impossible contradictions of his status.
Ratchet has had certain privileges afforded by his function and frame. He's comfortable taking over things and saying his piece, especially among the current team. He also has a poor opinion of non-Cybertronian anything. He would either be killed for insolence and disrespect or be ensnared in a dream that gives him his deepest wishes. Arcee, depending on your viewpoint, is either lucky or unlucky, especially since she survives all her partnerships. Even Jack Darby, no matter how careful, has a human lifespan, which is seafoam to a Cybertronian. Something would latch onto her anger and grief. Bulkhead can be a very considerate soul. Some being would be charmed by the mech. Bumblebee is kind, and Smokescreen can be impulsive and so very clever. Traits that are endearing to many entities in old tales.
Optimus would have his hands full should something start sniffing around the base.
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coulsart · 3 months
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SUNHINGED OUT OF CONTEXT DOODLES YOURE WELCOME
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pizzpizzapizzo · 6 months
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justifiable homicide
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pianokantzart · 7 months
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Page 1 // Page 2 // ...... // Page 36 // Page 37 // Page 38 // Page 39 //…
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rt-closetcryptic · 15 days
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✨Have a very misadventure✨
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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 2 months
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so Dust really doesn't have a head?? what happened to him??
(first the handplates, then this...)
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Past Dust: aw… missing something? Past Ink: you're gonna be missing teeth if you don't give that back Past Dust: heh… if you want me to give this back so bad, why don't you MAKE ME. Past Ink: … (meanwhile) Past Nightmare: Don't you understand? Everything you're doing is fruitless. There is no aim to your actions. What's the point in sparing me when you know I'm not really your brother anymore? I don't care for you. Past Dream: There is aim to my actions. There is a reason. I- Nightmare. Please understand when I say- Past Dust, in the distance: (SCREAMING)
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quikyu · 9 months
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I’d forgive her. She’s got a funny hat
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celtic-crossbow · 6 months
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Whumptober 2023
No. 15 “I’m fine.” | No. 17 “Leave me alone.”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (platonic, pre-relationship)
Setting: Post Prison/Pre Alexandria
Warnings: Animal bite, Injury, Illness, TWD Violence
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“Thanks,” you muttered while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You extended the bottle out to Glenn but he shook his head. 
“Try to get Daryl to drink when he gets back.” You cast him a curious look but he only smiled and shuffled forward to catch up with Maggie. 
The sun was beating down violently on your little group, no reprieve from the clutches of its heat. Just like yesterday. Just like the day before. The bushes rustled to your left, but you were too weary to be afraid. You simply rolled your head toward the sound and watched Daryl emerge from the foliage. You gave him a quick once over as he fell in stride beside you but saw no injuries and also no kill to call dinner. 
“You okay?” You offered the water bottle, but he pushed it back to you. 
“M’fine.”
“I haven’t seen you take a single sip in two days, Daryl.” You were trying to scold but your voice only sounded dry and tired. 
“You need it. Lil Asskicker needs it.” Right on cue, the baby on Carl’s back began to fuss. You glanced behind you where Sasha and Michonne were bringing up the rear. The group of walkers were still a ways back but if you stopped, it wouldn’t take them long to catch up. 
Your attention was brought back to Daryl when he stumbled, hissing through his teeth before getting his balance. You said nothing but watched him carefully. He was slightly favoring his right leg. While you could see no blood, you did notice that the red rag that usually hung from his back pocket was wrapped around his shin, just above his boot. 
“Daryl.” You called to him carefully when he looked up from his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He grunted in reply, and his gaze dropped again. “Are you hurt?” He grunted again. “That’s not an answer.”
“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” The archer looked over at you, one eye closed and the other squinted. “Ain’t a big deal.” 
Before you could press him on it, Rick called out for everyone to stop at a bridge. It was time to handle the walkers. 
It didn’t take long. Not a single person was injured and you were back on the road. Daryl was in front of you now, and you were watching him like a hawk. Other than a slight limp, he seemed okay. No better or worse than anyone else right now. 
The group had stopped to rest once the scorching sun had lowered, and Daryl had disappeared to hunt. With a nod to Carol, you ducked away past the bushes to join him. You weren’t great at tracking but he hadn’t been gone long and you had learned a thing or two from him. 
It didn’t take you long to spot him. There was a small cabin that looked like it had been abandoned since before the dead rose. Daryl was standing next to a tree close to the structure, leaning his shoulder against it. You smiled, and quickened your pace until you noticed his crossbow was on the ground at his feet. His right boot wasn’t touching the ground, and he was bent at the waist with his eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched. 
“Daryl?” You called out but he didn’t respond. He was sweating and pale, and as you neared, the smell of sick lingered in the air. “Hey, are you okay?” You placed your hand on his bicep once you were close enough. The archer reacted violently, catching your wrist and slamming your back against the tree with his hunting knife at your throat. Had he really not heard you approaching? His breaths came hard and fast. Those pretty blue eyes of his were filled with pain and anger. “It’s me, Daryl.” 
You watched recognition set in, and he released you with a huff. “The hell ya followin’ me fer?” You let your gaze follow him as he replaced his knife and reached for the crossbow. On the ground, near the weapon, was a puddle of vomit. Your eyes narrowed. 
“Daryl, what’s wrong with you?” You pushed away from the tree and jogged to cut him off. “Really.”
“Leave me ‘lone!” He made to go around you, but you moved to stay in his path. 
“You sick?” He tried the other way with the same results. “Hurt?” He growled deep in his throat, closing his eyes in what appeared to be restraint. You weren’t sure that was really the case. 
“Jus’ lay off, would ya?” He snapped harshly. You reeled, face contorting in anger, but just as you opened your mouth, Daryl’s eyes widened. He listed to the side, crashing hard onto his left knee and began to retch violently. With nothing in his stomach, he only managed to bring up a small amount of bile throughout the ordeal. 
“Daryl!” You grabbed hold of his shoulders just in time to stop him from keeling over into the mess. Falling back onto your ass, you managed to pull the man up against your stomach. He was panting with his eyes screwed shut. “Daryl, what’s going on? The truth.”
It took a moment but the archer finally managed to open one eye and seemed to study you before you felt him simply deflate in your hold. “Snake bit.” You quickly glanced at that old rag around his lower leg. 
“You moron, that’s serious! You could die!” Your hand connected roughly with the front of his shoulder but then held him fast where he was when he tried to struggle away. 
“Ain’t gon’ die. S’jus’ a copperhead.” He tried to sit up again and this time you let him. He nodded gratefully once he was shoulder to shoulder with you. “Got bit ‘fore, when I’s ‘bout 10. It won’ kill me but it’ll suck fer a day or two.”
You stared at him, not sure what you were feeling. You were angry that he had hidden this from the group, from you. You were worried that he was or would become dehydrated or the wound would be infected, both were very likely and equally as dangerous. You were sad that he would rather suffer alone than worry anyone even when he was in such a state. 
“Quit starin’ at me like tha’. Told ya, I’ll be fine.”
You nodded, looking down at your boots. You had to think of something. Daryl simply couldn’t keep going like this, disappearing ‘in search of water and food’ when he really just needed a break. You glanced at him again, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted toward the sky. His expression was riddled with pain, even though he was trying not to show it. You knew better. 
Over his shoulder, you saw the little cabin. It wasn’t the ideal solution but maybe one you could make work. “You cleared that yet?”
Daryl followed your gaze and shook his head. “Nah. Didn’ have a chance ‘fore my stomach crawled outta my throat.”
“Wait here.” 
“The hell ya doin’, Y/N?”
You pulled your knife from the sheath on your thigh and marched toward the structure. “Solving a couple of problems.”
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The cabin had been blessedly void of walkers. It was small but large enough to shelter your family from the sun for at least a day or two. It was easy enough to talk Rick into stopping the fruitless march toward nothing. At least the group could stay put while you took care of Daryl, under the guise of being out for the night to hunt. 
He had been surprisingly pliant when you dragged him away. Finding a spot to camp for the night was simple. Far enough away for members not to venture in search of you, yet close enough to run for help if things got worse. You had taken all of the water that could be spared, leaving enough for the proper care of Judith and Carl. You hated leaving so little for the adults, but Daryl would surely die without it, closer than anyone to dehydration with the excess sweating and vomiting. 
You sat next to his outstretched leg, carefully pouring the smallest amount of water over the two punctures he had finally let you take a look at. Just to the right of his shin, the wound was swollen and angry, more in thanks to the venom than to infection. If you could manage to keep it clean, you could probably avoid that. 
You taped a square of gauze over the bite, thankful that you had at least that in your own bag. Keeping it covered was best for the time being. It could get air when the venom wasn’t doing a number on the archer. 
You worried about tissue damage, but that was a bridge you’d have to cross when you came to it. For now, keeping him alive was the most important thing. 
“Drink.” You titled the canteen against his lips, holding fast to his chin with the other hand when he tried to turn away. 
“The kid—”
“Has enough. I promise. I wouldn’t have taken it if it meant she or Carl had to do without.” He seemed to accept that, parting his lips for the smallest of swallows. You wished you had more and didn’t have to be so greedy with each offering. He had taken the ibuprofen you had managed to nab out of Michonne’s bag. That should provide a bit of relief from the pain while aiding in the reduction of the inflammation. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. 
“You should get some rest.” You placed your back against the tree, shoulder to shoulder with him. He didn’t look very comfortable but it wasn’t unlike Daryl to sleep sitting up. Sometimes, you think he preferred it. Regardless, he was sick and in pain, so you tried to make him as comfortable as possible. “Why don’t you lay on my lap?”
Daryl opened one eye and rolled his head toward you, blinking away the sweat that burned and obstructed his vision. You thought he might argue or turn you down flat, but he instead shifted with a groan and pillowed his head on your thighs. A true testament to how horrible he was feeling. 
“Better?” You questioned quietly, running your fingers through his damp hair. He hummed, his eyes once again closed. You could see the way they pinched at the outer corners and wished you could do something more for the pain. He’d been bitten while trying to find food and water for your group; trying to take care of everyone else. Always putting himself last. 
There was a content sigh that brought you from your thoughts. You hadn’t realized that you had begun to scratch and knead his scalp, but the way he seemed to melt against you ensured that you continued. His shallow breaths evened out and deepened after a few more moments, an indicator that he was finally giving his body the rest it so desperately needed. 
He would be okay. You knew that now. But if you could offer him some comfort and peace for just one night, you’d massage his scalp until your fingers bled. Daryl, rough around the edges and tough as nails, would bend over backwards to ensure the safety of each one of you. Anyone in the group would do the same for him if he’d allow it. But he didn’t. He chose to suffer in silence until you stumbled across him and forced his hand. 
But he’d allowed you into his space and trusted you enough to fall into a deep, healing sleep while you watched over him. He would be safe and cared for, and you’d make sure he knew that he could depend on this— on you — and drop his walls. He could let you in and be vulnerable. 
You’d be damned if you’d take that for granted. 
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hajihiko · 2 years
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remember that old story about watermelons and human heads being the same density
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robanilla-arts · 3 months
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Badsansuary Day 3: Sharp
event by @owl-bones
this took me a while- but I'm VERY proud of it! :D look!!! hands!!!
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Somewhere, In An Alternate Spooky Month Universe . . . Something more fluffy happened within the household of Lila and skid upon Bob's escape from police custody and enevitable revenge. . .
"Bringing A Feather To a Knife Fight" (Part 1)
Lee!(?)Bob Velseb
Ler!(?)Lila
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whalesharkstho · 1 year
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pov: ur best friend and partner in crime beats u to death on top of a mountain
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popfizzles · 1 month
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Thanks for all the kind words about Hawthorne!! I'm sure he appreciates it just as much as I do :D
As for [that one specific headshot,] it was mostly to show off what his eyes looked like fully closed, and it just seemed like the kind of expression he'd make. But I do like the idea of Hawthorne adopting my real-life trait of being prone to migraines.
Maybe that's why he likes the basement so much <:)?...
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childesglove · 1 year
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Did You Cheat On Me? Revenge Taste Bitter
Summary: Childe thought you had cheated on him and he decided he was going to take revenge, even if it hurts both of you. PS: Nobody cheated so don’t worry
Part 2
Warnings: Angst with comfort, Hurt, Implied Violence, Reader has anxiety attack, not proof read, verbal abuse, a lot of screaming
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“Tell me, who is that man?” Childe yanked your arms towards him harshly making you fall towards him, “ did you cheat on me?” His face was contorted in a fiery rage, there was this coldness in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
“What are you talking about?” You shook your head, confused and offended that Childe would even ask you this. Did he think this lowly of you?
“Don’t.You.Lie.” Childe’s hands were balled into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white before he suddenly hit the wall beside you with a loud thud. You jolted as your eyes widened in shock and fear, you did not understand what was going on and you never saw Childe acting this.. violently around you.
“What the fuck? Childe what the hell was that..” you raised your voice but he cut you off, “ you unfaithful bitch, I’ll make you regret this.” With that, he slammed the door shut leaving you alone.
The next few days was pure hell.
You lost your job. When your Ex is a harbinger, there’s nothing much you can really do when he decided he’s going to ruin your life. All the years you spent studying, fighting for your dream were all like a joke now.
“Ajax, can we-“ you stepped into his office but was brought into an abrupt halt when you saw him holding another women. Your fingers trembled as you clutched the strap of your bag tightly, you stood there frozen as your eyes met his.
He was smiling.
There was a spark of satisfaction that danced like fire in his eyes, his lips twisted into a slight smirk.His smile dropped when he saw a single tear slipped out of your eye.
Your breath hitched, unsure of where to look as more tears start to escape. You felt like you can’t breath, you knew that familiar feeling.
An incoming anxiety attack. Something you have not experienced since you got together with Ajax. Because he’s always there to tell you everything is okay, hush you to sleep when you’re trembling and shaking.
The man that made you forget pain taught you what betrayal felt like today.
You felt disgusting.
Childe gaze lingered on your back as you left, he did this out of spite but there was no sense of satisfaction, the taste of revenge felt bitter and awful.
With a sudden, violent motion, he swept his arm across the table, sending his books flying in all directions. “ Get the fuck out.”
The fatui subordinate, who disguised as his new girlfriend, scrambled and quickly took her bag and left quickly.
Part 2 coming soon
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jellyvibes710 · 7 months
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I updated baby Leo's markings, he will look like #2 from now on
Also TW ⚠️BLOOD⚠️
So Little chirp is cute, right? he's got the "no brain", he's clumsy, he chirps, he's squishy, he's just a lil baby 💖
But he's still LEO, he's the faceman, he manipulates and plays people like cards, He knows how to put on an act to get the reaction he wants, he knows people better than the back of his own hand.
But just because he's now a baby don't mistake him for weak
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He is FAR from it :]
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<not cannon to AU, at least some of it>
<honestly I just wanted to draw his new marks all glowy, plus I wanted to draw him mad at something.>
Donnie has definitely influenced him
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choctalksalot · 10 months
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strifin with the homies
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casual suicide mention underneath
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endlessly funny to me the idea that god tier death-revival heals your injuries just damn i got a paper cut? well shit it's all gone fuckin pear shaped-
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