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rotisseries · 8 months

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skyward sword was such a crazy insane game to make like ok what if there was a story about a great evil and a goddess. and that goddess locked away that great evil, but she knew it would come back, and it would need to be defeated again. and what if that goddess knew that for this impossible task, she would need a loyal soldier. so she reincarnates. she reincarnates into a human girl, because the best way, the most reliable way, to get a loyal soldier, is love. and a goddess is respected, and idolized, and revered, but a goddess isn't loved. not like a human girl is. so she reincarnates. and she is loved genuinely and wholeheartedly, by her family, by her peers, and most importantly, by her best friend.

and what if there was a story about a boy and a girl. this one boy loves her so much, that when she falls from the sky, crashing to the earth, and into her immortal destiny, he follows her. and she runs, because she has a destiny, because she's finding out she is part of a divine plot, she and the boy are pawns in a goddess' war plans. did she ever love him did he ever love her or were they just being manipulated by the goddess. SHE'S the goddess. was SHE just manipulating him this whole time? "I'm still your zelda" but is she really? does she know it for sure? she doubts it and doubts it and runs and runs and he keeps chasing her. and she locks herself in time to defeat this great evil and he watches her do it. and he fights because he loves her and he defeats the evil and he gets her back and they're happy.

but what if there was a story about a goddess and a great evil. the evil cursed them for the rest of time. their descendants will never be safe there will always be evil to fight and she'll always be running and sacrificing and he'll always be chasing and fighting.

what if there was a story about a goddess and a great evil. what if there was a story about a girl and a boy. what if it was about the innate mortality and humanity of love and the act of loving. ok. at the walls of nintendo hq

#GIRLS WHEN SKYWARD SWORD #the way nintendo released sksw and then botw AND THEN TOTK. BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER HEARTBREAKING BANGERRR #WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL #girls when “I'm still your zelda”#guys I'm thinking about sksw idk if you can tell #the control scheme is literally hellish but sksw is such a game and I'd replay it right now if the control scheme wasn't literally hellish #loz #sksw #loz sksw #loz ss #skyward sword #zelink #no but it's crazy like love isn't divine in skyward sword it's the opposite it's an innately mortal thing #it's not holy but it's better than that it's something the goddess needs more than all her divine power

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vixeneptune · 8 months

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I just love how I always eventually end up manifesting my desires like it's guaranteed for me, I don't even care how long it takes bc I know I always end up getting what I want, like it's just a matter of time but I don't stress about timing, I just KNOW it'll come one way or another.

This makes manifesting so chill and natural for me like everything just falls into place at its own pace and comes to me at the right time

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ladybugsimblr · 3 months

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A funny thing happened at the doctor visit to check their fertility... Bailey and Quinton went in thinking they were planning ahead and getting prepared for the future. But the future popped up and knocked on their door just a little bit early. Ooops

#WE were fully prepared for another long journey #hence releasing the birth control early #butterfly springs we have a problem #🤐#consider reading this post an NDA #bklegacy #bklgen2 #bailey kay #quinton #lyric #legend #rebi #baby n4

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hamsternamedmarinette · 1 year

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Dude this show has ruined me, I'm remembering the time someone was ranting to me that they just watched the latest episode of a show they were watching, and it left off on a cliffhanger so they couldn't wait to see the next episode, and I was like "omg no! Do you at least know when it's coming out?" And they were like "yeah? Next week?" tfw you remember that most shows do, in fact, have normal airing schedules

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #мой пост #someone reblogged this with the tag [glares at astruc]#so this is where i inform you that astruc literally has nothing to do with the release of this show #he's the writer/director he only controls what goes on IN the show not when and how it's released #i'm not saying this pettily and i'm not saying you have to like the guy but you shouldnt blame someone for something they have #zero control over

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erisenyo · 1 month

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I'd say we can blame the Zukka server for this one except it's been kicking around for a while all on it's own

NSFW ahead - Zutara, bloodbending, humiliation kink, D/s vibess, conensual but not sane or safe, I think we can see where this is going

The first time she has him on his knees it’s an accident—almost.

Katara grunts as Appa takes off, instinctively shifting her weight to counterbalance the heave of take-off, the rush of bloodbending still in her ears. It’s a sharp, jagged thing, sticky in the way it clings to her bending, tugging her awareness away from the rolling ocean and toward the smallest rush instead, looking to grab and hold and crush the water to her will and she knows it’s not water but it’s close enough and she’s just doing what she has to do, what Zuko came with her to do, so for him to turn away like he’s horrified by her, like she’s the monster when he—

“What was that?” Katara snarls, the words bursting out of her, her bending thrumming like she can feel the pulse of every venule in her fingertips.

“What?” Zuko says after a pause, delayed and not looking at her, acting like there’s anything at all to see except ocean over the side of Appa’s saddle, when the only thing around to look at is—

“Back there,” Katara snaps, bending throbbing along with the words and her pulse, high and wild and looking for something to grab onto and that’s the hardest part of bloodbending, the way it wants to be used once it’s been called, a rising flood pressing against the dam of her control. “On that ship, when you—”

“My information was out of date,” Zuko has the gall to shrug, even stiffer than usual about it and nearly entirely turned away, like she’s too disgusting to even look, at the edge of the saddle like he’d be leaping out of it if he had anywhere to go. “But it’s fine, we got his location, we just have to go to—”

“I’m not talking about information,” Katara spits, “I’m talking about you.”

A jerk, his voice coming high and thin. “I—me?”

“You think you’re better than me?” Katara hisses, wishing she could revel in that fear except all she wants his for him to snap and snarl back so that she’d have the excuse to— “Like you’ve never done what you had to do? I don’t need your judgment, Prince Zuko.”

“What?” he says, almost turning toward her before he catches himself. “No, I—” Like he has any ground to try to deflect when he’s acting like she’s something too shameful to even acknowledge. “You just—”

“Shut! Up!” The bending lashes out with the force of it, whipping and rolling right at the object of her rage and freezing his jaw if not his throat.

So when he moans in the sudden silence, they both hear it, clear and lingering even in the rush of wind and waves.

“What—” Katara pulls back, her shock quickly twisting into ready anger as he gasps and whirls fully away like she’s— “Are you mocking me? You think this is a joke?” she snarls as he just shakes his head, mute.

“No, no,” he says, the words tripping out of him, “I don’t, I don’t, I—"

“This isn’t some trick—”

“—I know, I know, you’re—"

“—that you can just laugh at,” she shouts, the bending lashing out of her mid-word, snapping his jaw shut and wrapping into his veins and arteries and forcing him to turn and face her.

It’s a rush of adrenaline-fueled rage and she’s braced to counterbalance his resistance, so she overspins when he goes limp into it instead. She stumbles, instinctively yanking him down as she finds her balance and the way he folds right to his knees, not even fighting.

Katara only half-releases him in surprise this time, but it’s enough for his whimper to go from strangled to loud and clear halfway through, the sound loud and clear, fear and—and making fun of her, when they’re—when this whole thing was his—when they wouldn’t even be here if not for—

“Stop mocking me,” Katara screams, her hands clawing the air as she purposefully reaches out this time, gripping him tight and making him feel her, making sure he feels her bending everywhere.

“I’m—not—a—joke,” she snarls, setting her feet and shoving away the part of her that wonders what Aang would think of her using all their time practicing bending in the air for this and focusing on the wild feeling of exactly what she could do to him instead.

She lifts Zuko bodily into the air until he’s barely supporting his own weight, back arched and arms splayed wide and knees just graving the saddle, making sure he feels her power down to his fucking toes. She strangles any more sounds as she flattens his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his head kicking back, and she can feel the way his pulses pounds, feel the flush of fear in him, the blood rushing to his cheeks and extremities and his—

Zuko lets out a sound that any other time would be protest as she releases him so abruptly he collapses down onto the saddle. But she knows its just gasping for breath and the shock of regaining control of himself after—after straining, ice replacing the rolling fury in her veins as she stares at Zuko fumbling up onto his knees and back, scooting away, his knees drawn up like—like protection. Like he needs protection from her. His chest heaving and mouth wide and face turn away so she can only see his scar and just a sliver of skin, usually pale but still flushed red with—

Katara whirls away, fists clenched at her side as she tries to will away the voice too like Aang’s in the back of her head murmuring ‘two-headed rat viper,’ sadly and quietly and understandingly, like there’s anything here to—

“Get us to Yon Rha,” Katara grits out, the words rough in her throat like she was the one fighting to scream, and Zuko just gasps behind her, breaths harsh, and Katara decides that that is answer enough.

The second time she has him on his knees, it’s on purpose. Mostly.

Because the problem is she can’t stop thinking about it, that—that sound. About that sound, and about the way he’d looked at her.

So in snatches and glances and sidelong looks, through the rest of the night and into the morning she watches him. Through the trek across the nondescript, nothing island to the nondescript, nothing village to the nondescript, nothing man who killed her mother, she keeps him in the corner of her eye.

And she knows that he can tell she’s watching, she can see it in the way he holds himself and the angle of his head and in the mortified redness that never truly leaves his face. In the stiffness of his body when she makes the rain fall like daggers around them. And in the look in his eye when he snatches furtive looks back, too, even though she doesn’t know how she knows it, something in his gaze she can’t place except that it makes her think again of that sound, and what it felt like to have him helpless in her hold, and he way he’d curled his legs up in front of himself after…

“Why didn’t you fight me,” Katara demands later as they pause by a stream, Zuko crouching down to wipe the sweat from his face and neck, his hands, cupping water into his mouth and the power of the moon is still lingering in her chi and for a while moment she imagines she could cup that water in her bending, too, cup it and follow it past his lip and—

“You didn’t even try,” she snaps when he just avoids her gaze, temper scraped raw by the idea of being denied this on top of being denied the struggle, on top of all the righteous fury crested inside her with nowhere to go. “You always—you fight why wouldn’t you—”

She breaks off, clenching her hands into fists against the jagged surge in the midst of the rolling ocean of her bending, Zuko hunching forward even more and still not answering, hunching over himself just like before, which means this is the same, which means—

Which means not what she thinks its means. Which means she was wrong then, and she’s wrong now, and he’s just mocking her again, mocking her like—

“It’s like you want to be on your knees,” she accuses, remembering the way he—blurting the words before she even fully thinks them, bravado over uncertainty and then when he just looks away, doesn’t even have the nerve to make a sound, “Or like you want me to put you there.”

Zuko just swallows hard, a flush crawling up his face, and Katara feels like her own face is flushing, barely-banked adrenaline surging back to life and her bending along with it.

“Toph told me how to spot a liar, you know,” she says, watching his lips part as he gasps and she has no idea where the threats are coming from. “I can feel hearts beating and pulses pounding just as well as her.” The quick flash of his tongue, like his lips are suddenly dry. “Would you be lying now if I checked you?”

Katara doesn’t know why she holds her breath, jagged anticipation in her throat, but it’s the only reason she hears the whimper that slips past his bitten lip over the sound of the stream, the noise that’s fear but also—it’s also—

“Should I check?” she says, the words coming out taunting, challenging, her bending shivering with readiness, her awareness sharpening from the heavy rush of the stream to the tight-quick-fast pulse on front of her as Zuko pants a moment, still half-folded forward.

Then, unsteady and low, gold eyes suddenly peaking through his lashes and the fall of his hair, “If it would make you feel better.”

Katara bloodbends him. Not like before, not with that sharp urge to wrench, but shoving into every bit of him hard enough to make him gasp, to make his whole body jerk with it and then go still, caught as she holds, flexing against every bit of him and—

“You like this,” she accuses as she quickly releases him, like that does anything to erase the bright feel of the pathways and pools of his blood from her mind.

And Zuko shakes his head, chest heaving and gasping and that’s familiar to her, too familiar, but the flutter of his lashes along with it—

“Are you lying?” she challenges, and she wonders if he can feel the potential of her bending pulling at his blood as he pants, open-mouthed a moment, body going tight.

Then, “You could check,” he rasps, and it’s such an open invitation that even half-expecting it, Katara still stares a moment before grabbing hold again, pushing to the liquid core of him but leaving his throat free because the way he keens, like he wants it, like she doesn’t even need to check his throbbing pulses to know—

Zuko is still folded half over himself, so she makes him straighten to sit back on his heels, first. Then she makes him drag up his head to look at her, makes him keep his eyes open until they bead and water and she’d do something about that except for the way the strain against her grip is like he’s trying to tilt back into it. And then she forces his knees to spread, wide enough to draw out a panting whimper and further than she expected and more than enough to see the bulge in his pants.

“You like it,” Katara says, her mouth suddenly dry—adrenal response, a voice like Yugoda’s says in the back of her head—as she stares at the dark fabric straining against the length of him, the way she can see his shape so clearly, see him press flat by the fabric against his own leg and it can’t be comfortable and—

Katara gives him enough play to talk, to argue, to say its stress or adrenaline or just the natural responses of a teenage male body experiencing hormonal surges. But he just groans, letting out a low, pleading sound of denial and she can feel the way he strains to close his thighs but she still has him in her hold and she’s attuned to his blood, she can feel the way he’s reacting, she has felt it, and even if she couldn’t she can see.

“You like it,” she says again, more to herself except she can see the way he bites his lip against it even as she can feel the rush of his blood, can feel exactly where it’s pooling and even if he doesn’t like it, his body undeniably does.

Except Katara thinks he might like that, too. Because his invitation is still hanging in the air and she can’t fight the urge to figure this out, figure him out, arching his back—he likes that—and flexing his fingers—he’s indifferent, or what baselines as indifference for him in the current situation—and closing his lips—oh, he really like that, that gives her a new baseline. And she can see the hardness between his legs, the one she isn’t causing, at least not with bending—at least not directly with bending. And she can see the way he gasps and pants as much as she’ll allow it, hear the half-pleading groans that don’t entirely muffle against his sealed lips.

And the way she can feel the strain of his body, what he fights and what he tries to sink into, the shivers and tremors and Tui and La the jerks of his hips that she presses instinctively to stillness, and then again because the way it makes him moan—she shoves with her bending, gripping and pushes and finally following the flow of blood as much as controlling it, making her presence known beneath his skin, deliberately pressing it through him inch by inch and feeling heady with the precision of it, with that she can make his body do, what she can make it feel.

There’s the increased blood pressure throbbing against her pending, the quickened pulse, the blood rushing away from the heart, so like fear except for the way the blood is also flushing up his abdomen and Katara is fascinated by the way she can feel the steady spread of it before she ever sees the wash of red reach his neck and face.

There’s the blood stiffening his nipples, erectile tissue going hard just like his already-full penis, Yugoda’s voice again brisk and papery in the back of Katara’s mind, talking about arteriolar dilation and increased blood flow, about supraspinal centers and spinal reflex mechanisms and Katara wonders wildly which one is, wonders when exactly he got hard, and why, and how and—

Zuko’s blood throbs against her bending like it’s in her own veins and Yugoda’s clinical vice in memory talks through the stages of male arousal, Katara noting each one, wondering what this would feel like with her healer’s sense instead of the jagged sharpness of bloodbending but it’s impossible to do both with Zuko gasping and straining and throbbing this way, with the way she can feel his flush rising even hotter, blood rushing even lower, feel he way he swells even further, so much it has to hurt and the sound he makes says maybe it does but that he doesn’t mind, his muscles straining against her hold, a textbook case of male arousal and on a woman she’d feel—

Katara yank her bending so hard back to herself that Zuko cries out with it, his entire body arching against the hold that’s no longer there. His hips jerk against nothing, a wordless protest breaking past his lips, then another as he falls forward to catch himself on hands and knees, head bowed and body visibly clenching still, gasping almost like sobs with every breath, fingers digging into the dirt.

“You like it,” Katara finally says, low, watching the flex of his fingers into the dirt, the humiliated hunch of his shoulders and flex of his hips. “You like not liking it,” she realizes, staring another moment and feeling the echo of his throbbing blood before suddenly whirling to stomp back to the path and the beach and Appa, trying not to listen for how long it takes Zuko to follow and forcibly shoving away the awareness of her own pulsing blood.

#fic writing #my writing #Zutara #bloodbending #This...might become a full fic #This *wants* to become a full fic. full of kinky smut and characterization via smut and exploring kink by making all the mistakes first #Something something Katara having a lot of rage and power and lashing out and learning to wield it wisely and thoughtfully and responsibly #But not to be afraid of it #And Zuko riding the thrill and fear of adrenaline of offering himself ot her and the release of being the one to decide how he is controlle #And learning to sset boundaries and enjoy the pleasure his body can give him and not just punish himsself #Anyway. Much to think about...

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bixels · 3 months

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Gunsmith cats being on your favourites makes sense.. Your art style feels like it. Do you take inspiration from it?

That's funny. I haven't taken particular stylistic inspiration from it. I like the action, I like the cars, I like the short story format. It definitely captures what I love about 90s OVAs, where budget and energy is spent primarily on simple but flashy/stylish scenes with fantastic depth and character animation.

#ask me #anon #the politics of this ova are interesting too #at first glance it seems like a very anti-gun control story but it's really about american politicians hiding behind seemingly #progressive policies to enact unprogressive agendas like “cleaning up illegal immigrants”#also the atf aren't even the bad guys in this story. they're actually pretty chill which surprised me because the atf was EXTREMELY #unpopular when this anime was made/released. 2 years after the waco siege

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wildernessuntothemselves · 6 months

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“I’m just stressed out. Which you would know if you had bothered being a friend and asked.”

“It’s hard to ask when you’re so busy getting your face sucked off by her.”

“Aw, are you jealous, baby?” He goads, getting all up in your face. “You miss kissing me?”

“Jealous?” You laugh forcefully, the jealousy indeed burning through you and firing you up. “yeah right, I can have you begging for me any time I want to.”

“Oh, please." He scoffs, his denial irritating you. "It's not like I haven't done it before. All I have to do is give your cock a couple of pumps and you'd be whining like a bitch."

"I was just humoring you. It didn’t even feel that good."

Oh, hell no. The only thing you managed to have with Beomgyu is getting him to need your touch the same way you need his love, and you'll be damned if you let anyone take that from you, even Beomgyu.

You curse him out under your breath as you charge forward and push him against the wall, crashing your lips together.

And for someone who just basically claimed to not want you, he sure as hell is eager to reciprocate… damn it, this was bait, wasn't it? That whore.

#the new chapter was just uploaded yesterday and I already wanna release the next chapter lmao #control yourself mort #jealousy jealousy #mort talks

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battleslippers · 2 days

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most insane thing I’ve done as of recent!

literally just ocs atp but we chill. the aforementioned texts (you know the ones) are 100% ooc but it’s okay because it was funny @mister-mickey

Dallas cuts his hair for lore reasons and it looks like SHITTT at first

obviously derived from tolkien elves but they’re also kind of glorified plants. We also locked up Dallas’ magic to burn him from the inside out because honestly who DOESNT wanna see that (severely shortened lifespan)

Will be making full body designs unfortunately + maybe some of the other gang

#we talked in depth about this au for like 3 hours or something #elves usually just release it passively and control it to make shit grow but like #Dallas’ is locked up so the plants go to HIM. queue havoc on the infrastructure #Tim is some wizard guy he’s like good at magic I guess lol #we have a document of just lore #the outsiders #dallas winston #tim shepard #fantasy au #art #slipper art #when Dallas walks in grass it sticks to him I think that’s quite funny #will happily lore dump #I forgot to add Tim’s skintone oohhh just pretend he has melanin ohhhh

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hajihiko · 1 year

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I interpret Kaz's relationship with his dad a little differently from that one convo. He says something like 'he knew better than anyone that we didn't have the money' and I took that as his dad wanted him to go and have fun like a normal kid and not worry about the money. Of course, I don't justify physical discipline and it is abuse, even if the parent is well intentioned. I think that Kaz does love his dad and they're relationship might be more complicated. But you know that's just one of the many things he needs to work out in therapy.

(Again this is just my interpretation and I'm not saying yours is wrong. I do love the art.)

Just gonna use this as a little jumping point to talk about this bc why not, warnings for obviously sensitive topics

I dont think you're wrong, I actually probably agree, but one thing;

It's not uncommon for public perception to weigh more than actual actions or intent. In the example given, I see it like so; yeah, Souda sr. wanted his son to go on a field trip that they couldn't really afford. Yeah, Kaz wanted to help the household by not going on the trip and saving the money. Both have good intent here. It's not about that, though, because in Souda sr.'s eyes, refusing to go on the trip is like admitting that they're poor, which is like saying the father can't provide for his family, which is like public humiliation- in his eyes. In a fit of rage (and insecurity, if it's something that's already weighing on his mind, as these things often go) the assumption isnt that his son was trying to help, just that he did something that makes the father look bad. Which is a bigger trigger than most things, often, for patriarchal authority figures.

And it not an excuse for physical harm, no, nothing is. Probably, Souda sr. knows that, and didn't mean to snap- doesnt think he committed an act of child abuse- but he's been under a lot of stress, and his son was talking back, and, well.

I think they do usually get along alright, and Souda sr. does his best to provide for himself and his son and keep their relationship good, and Kazuichi is genuinely grateful for everything his dad's done for him? But in the end, it's another person Kazuichi trusted teaching him the lesson that people will let him down and hurt him, in some way at some point. If your parent whom you trust has made you genuinely afraid of them, it's hard to come back from it, and someone as anxious and emotionally sensitive as Kazuichi will hold onto that forever, probably, even as he might internalized some of it as his own fault.

It's a lot more complicated than just "bad father, sad son" (but again, not excusable, you don't hit your kids period). It's father and son who love each other and might be the only family they both have, but they clash horribly on occasion, make up (or don't talk about it at all), things die down, stay good for a while, then there's another clash- so it goes, even if the bad times are only occasional. The biggest Thing about these kind of relationships, to me, is that it's so easy to fall into a routine and let things stagnate, and before you know it, it's just How Things Are and it's easier to just deal than start rocking the boat.

#Not an art #Talky talky #Dysfunctional relationships and toxic family is always something I have Thoughts on #cw child abuse #This is also just me blabbing with little evidence so dont come for my throat ok I'm just pondering #I could talk about the kuzuryu family too I think there's a lot more context stuff there #But that's a diff post #I also hc that Kaz started thinking about the death machines before Junko #Not in a serious manner but as a malcontent kid who felt bitter and insecure and wanted to let it out somehow #Who hasnt fantasised about pushing someone down the stairs or sth right? That's where it started for him #Blah blah the 'anyone is capable of evil' theme #But also the 'that entire class was full of kids at risk and no one noticed or helped them and that sure didnt stop them from seeking-#-release and control and company from bad people who in turn affected them'

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