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#the list is long I just think it should b there
tiptapricot · 2 years
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Smoked salmon cream cheese on a bagel should b considered one of the most perfect foods in the world actually
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bthump · 8 months
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I think I have diagnosed Griffith with 2 things after reading the manga, but am curious to know what you think
1. ⁠Narcissism. His entire worldview revolves around him. He thinks he is the protagonist. When he states that he can only respect another person who has their own dream and would do anything to make that dream a reality, he is putting a tremendous amount of weight on his "respect". And when someone actually does what the fuck he claims will earn his respect, he doesn't give it, because in the end it breaks his ego. In the eclipse, it's unearthed that deep inside, all along, he believes that all of the individuals in his army exist, living or dead, to serve him. That they died purely for him, not even considering that they yearend a life that was better then what they had, and surviving the front could have granted that. He never felt for a second that he actually owed anything else to anyone else.
2. ⁠Sociopathic tendencies: Griffith lacks true empathy. He views the world, and it's moral balance as a ledger, that he can add and subtract pros and cons to equal the karmic balance in his own eyes, and as such he "Greater goods" a ton of stuff that the fandom excuse or don't even consider prior to the eclipse, like burning the queen to shreds and sending guts on an assassination mission. He sells himself off to Gennon for the "good of his army", but this is just Griffith making ends meet to continue his ambitions of conquest, all of which are for his purpose. He excuses great amounts of evil because he is a narcissist and a sociopath. Other people's genuine state of being are not within his comprehension, and their situation is meaningless to him.
I gotta be honest, I'm pretty surprised you don't already know my opinion on this, since like my whole Fandom Brand is being a Griffith stan who thinks he's a genuinely good, empathetic person as a human lol, and I feel like I discuss that all the time. If you're very new around here and haven't really read many of my posts yet, then yeah, fyi we have deeply differing takes on Griffith.
And just as a warning, around this corner of fandom you're pretty much just going to see exasperated disagreement with this opinion, because it's what the majority of (English speaking) fandom tends to think about Griffith and the people who follow my blog tend to be pretty tired of it.
If you're genuinely interested in my own thoughts though, I'll link a few posts that explore my take on Griffith's personality in some depth:
Do I think Griffith is cruel
How Guts is not a better person than Griffith
Quick take on the Eclipse sacrifice
Griffith and power/control
The meaning of the Promrose Hall speech
Why Griffith lost his shit during the second duel
How Griffith both parallels and contrasts Gambino
Griffith's feelings for Guts are positive
Griffith's entire internal conflict throughout the Golden Age examined at great length
And just as an additional note, I generally don't engage with media through a psychiatry lens. Diagnosing fictional characters with personality disorders isn't my kinda thing unless the text is heavily implying it, because I view characters as tools that exist to help construct the meaning of a story, not as real people. If the narrative isn't interested in clinical psychology, then neither am I, basically.
But needless to say if Griffith was real I don't think either of those diagnoses would fit him, based on my layman's understanding of sociopathy and narcissism, for reasons I've discussed a lot in those linked posts, among others.
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spaciebabie · 10 months
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sorry 2 the ppl who find that they're the ones mostly starting convos in our dms. i aint got shit ta talk abt.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#it is truly so wild to go from feeling miserable and hopeless all the time for... lets look at my excel sheet#the last 23 days. then to suddenly rocket up to smiling to myself all day. the world is so fucking beautiful#for no rational reason aside from what i have to assume is a chemical shift in my body#like is this what happy ppl feel like all the time? its truely so crazy. have i always been like this?#did i not notice this was a thing? like ive definitely noticed it in the last year but like ???#my suspicion is that it doesnt actually last long enough to b considered hypomania but like idk i should see a doctor probably lol#u would think being happy would make it easier to do things but i just keep forgetting to do them and just like spacing out lol bc rn i#feel chill. even tho i need to make a list of the shit i gotta do by Friday. bleh. but idk it makes being in thr lab so much nicer bc i#mean. i still dont give a fuck abt what im doing but im like fuck it this isnt gonna b my problem in like 2-3 months. even tho im sure ill#still have to write up everything. but idk. it also makes it easier to b like. ok so i kno what my problems r lets plan yo make things not#so horrible so u dont just live a miserable life and then like die having lived a life of fear. like its so crazy how much easier thst is#to do rn??? well see how long it lasts but yea v strange. wish i could control my fucking focus tho. like that would b great#its like the fucking painting of hypnose. my focus is like a lighthouse wildly swinging its light around until it sometimes blasts me in#the face. like not helpful. i need to b able to do things.#i guess the weird thing rn is thst while i feel happy. i also have this like simmering fear of irrational things. like when i used to live#in my parents basement and i was terrified of the dark rooms down there at night. like that kind of childish baseless fear#but like im in i tiny tiny apartment lol like bro what r u scared of??? silly silly silly#idk hopefully it holds out the whole rest of the week and then i can travel and see my parents like !!! yo !!! happy vibes :-D#that would b kinda unhinged lmao. i doubt itll last thst long. its already slipped from this morning so we shall see#unrelated
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purgatorychxsm-a · 1 year
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toastsnaffler · 4 months
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I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.
#ive survived all nighters before ill scrape through the day itll just be Rough. at least i dont have much in my schedule#im not gonna take the dose this morning bc i think thats a really bad idea to do on zero hours sleep#and i can't risk two consecutive all nighters. like I have done that before but not while working full time 💀 its not worth it#drafting an email to my doctor to let her know im skipping day 2 + ask advice re. whether its worth resuming again on day 3#bc she did list 'trouble sleeping' as a common symptom that often passes but i need to know a) how long it usually takes to pass and-#b) if this is unusually bad + would she rec supplementing with a sleep aid or just switching tack entirely and trialling a non stimulant#by this stage of the night i dont think its actually acting anymore bc i took it at 7am and its now 3am. it shouldnt last that long#i think its more just triggered my preexisting insomnia. my ability to sleep is very very sensitive sometimes + hates routine changes#just so fucking frustrating bc ive spent the past 2 months nailing my sleep routine + ive had a couple weeks of being able to-#go to bed like 9:30-10 and it only takes an hour to get to sleep and i get usually a good 7 hours sometimes 8 only waking once halfway#and i dont feel like utter shit like yeah im tired but from work not so much lack of sleep.... and now thats all fucked lmao#whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway#ill see. gonna try to sleep for another 2 hours but once it hits 5 im not doing this anymore ive been trying for six hours already man#i cant even remember when i last pulled a full all nighter. it might be longer than 6 months ago... i was doing so well :-(#im so mad i was so hopeful it would have SOME good effect like ik its not a miracle worker + these things take time but so many people-#seem to have an immediate positive response even if its probably a placebo. and i got fuck all except This.#i was searching on the reddit for sleep issues and other ppl only seem to report bad ones on higher doses or years in..#like damn. do i even have adhd then. ik thats a stupid thing to think bc obvs everyones body metabolises meds differently etc but still#it is ALMOST HALF 3 and i am FUCKING TIRED#UGH. alright bedtime round 189447383#.diaries#.vent
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours
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synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his
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— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)
— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!
— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys
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satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.
“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.
“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”
“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.
“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”
“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.
he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”
“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”
“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”
“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”
“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”
“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.
“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”
“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”
“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.
even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”
“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.
satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.
he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.
you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.
so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?
and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.
you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.
satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.
he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.
“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”
“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”
“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”
“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.
everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.
“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”
he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”
“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”
“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”
“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”
“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”
his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.
you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.
“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.
“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.
“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”
“got it,” you nod furiously.
“got what?”
“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”
“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”
“just what?” he raises a brow.
“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.
he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.
your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.
“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”
“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”
“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”
“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”
“say you love me,” he demands.
it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”
and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.
and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.
satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.
“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”
“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”
he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.
it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.
he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.
satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.
when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.
“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”
“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.
“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”
and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.
but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.
it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.
and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.
“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”
“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”
“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”
“how long do you plan on being mine?”
“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”
“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”
“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”
“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”
“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.
“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”
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dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this
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jadevine · 4 months
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Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that
Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/
I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.
Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask
Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember
Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my
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I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.
I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.
People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.
But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.
The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.
The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.
Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.
If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).
Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.
If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.
Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."
And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"
Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."
This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.
A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.
NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.
If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.
Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.
As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.
Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.
UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.
But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!
Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.
Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.
The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.
Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )
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tanaor · 2 months
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Want simple tips to heavily improve your skills with character voice??
(📝Note: character voice is the way you convey your character's personality though their pov or dialogue when you write. No two characters speak the same📝)
I speak from experience when I say character voice is hard to get right. Characters, like people, have lots of layers that affect the way they see the world around them and how they interact with other characters. That's why character voice is so important in stories, and why if you write it in a compelling and effective way it will hook people into your story. I hope you learn something new in this post!!
When writing character voice, there's a list of things that you should take into account:
Where are they from? Their past and what they've lived plays a huge part in character voice. Maybe your character grew by the ocean, and so they compare things from the present to the beach, the rocks or the sea itself. You will rarely read about a sailor that is an expert in pants and compares scents to flowers. They might, instead, talk about how a house smells like the wet wood of a ship.
Think about how their personality shapes their language. If they are insecure, they might end most of their sentences with "isn't it?" or "right?" and ask a lot of questions, whereas if you have a confident character, you might find them saying things like "we should do this" or "that will be fun" instead.
What their "lense" is. This is more of an ethic aspect of the character. What have they learn it's okay, and what do they find uncomfortable? Would they find it gross if their friend left laundry on the floor?
Give them special traits (both for dialogue and narration). Maybe character A quotes a lot when they narrate and uses long paragraphs, or maybe B speaks about their past a lot and uses popular sayings. Personally, one character of mine has the tendency to repeat himself when he speaks, as in "yeah, yeah, I'll do it" or "no, no, no. Never" because he is really enthusiastic, and it fits really well with his character.
Pay attention to how they would talk about themselves. Maybe your character doesn't like people to know they're sad because it makes them feel vulnerable, so they will just say they feel annoyed or don't want to talk in that moment. This also means that they will not tell the reader something they are not comfortable saying in the first place.
How is their education? Education is also very important in this context. Did they went to university and have a rich vocabulary and structured sentences, or where they rised in a little farm far from town? You can also play with both a bit: maybe your character did go to university, but maybe they also came from a low income family, and characteristic of both things merge when they talk. Example: long, structured, sentences but a simple and sight forward vocabulary.
That's all for now and happy writing!!
Other tips for writers: previous | next
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valent1neg0d · 3 months
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THINGS I WISH I KNEW WHEN I WAS GETTING STARTED WITH THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION (AS SOMEONE WHO HAS BEEN MANIFESTING FOR 5 YEARS)
1. the law of assumption is personal. considering how we have different sets of experiences, different environments, different upbringings, and even different languages, we have different assumptions.
because of this, we are affected by teachings and success stories differently. it's important to note this since a lot of manifestation coaches will teach you about the law in a way that worked for them (and the others they may have taught) but it's possible that their advice (even my own) may not be the best for you. even abdullah and neville goddard, two of the people who are known to start this discipline, may have ancient or varied belief systems and techniques. this is normal considering the world they lived in before is different from the world we live in now.
although, you should still read on abdullah and neville because they will teach you the basics and they will help you understand the foundations of the law.
as an example, you might manifest your dream career faster with simple affirmation techniques but a coach may have taught you to focus on visualization techniques.
even the idea that "dominant THOUGHTS manifest" or "what you BELIEVE in manifests" is entirely up to you.
note: notice how i said "may not be the best for you" instead of "may not work for you". any technique can, does, and will work.
how i learned this: when i was learning about the law, i mainly focused on neville's teachings because he was one of the most prominent figures in the practice. and though i liked his practical techniques (especially mental diet and inner conversations), there were some beliefs that i do not agree with e.g. divine timing, appointed hour, avoiding "does not" "is not" "will not".
when i was going through sammy ingrams' takes, she said that it's better to have concise affirmations/short list (non-verbatim) than a long list of 25+ affirmations. but going through affirmations without being specific about them doesn't personally resonate with me and that's just because i'm a detail-oriented person (also a writer).
what i can advise:
learn about different approaches
a. through scientific concepts. e.g. quantum physics, reticular activating system, cognitive reframing, cognitive behavioral therapy, the psychology of placebo effect, the psychology of affirmations, Baader-Meinhof phenomenon (a.k.a. the psychology of self-fulfilling prophecy)
b. through religious and/or spiritual concepts. e.g. passages from the Bible, passages from the Quran, deity work, spells and rituals
c. through self-development. e.g. identity-based habit
start the practice with an identity you like in the present or an identity that you resonate with (learning style, talents, interests, etc.)
examples:
-visual learner = vision boards
-loves writing = scripting
-words of affection love language = affirmations
take teachings with a grain of salt. do not limit yourself and do not allow other people to limit you. experiment with concepts, ideas, and techniques, and have fun with them.
2. techniques are only reminders. you are manifesting either by thinking, feeling, or acting out your desires. you are manifesting every second of the day either with your thoughts, emotions, or by embodying a state. you are only being intentional when you anchor techniques.
note: it is true that your dominant thoughts manifest. it is also true that what you believe in manifests, the same way that your inner knowing manifests. BUT these ideas are meant to empower you. they are meant to remind you that manifestation is as easy as thinking, feeling, acting, believing, understanding, deciding, etc. if an idea doesn't feel good to you, it doesn't have to be an ultimate truth you embrace and carry on with. this is the same with techniques.
what i can advise:
choose one technique and practice it for 7 to 21 days. it can be mental diet, affirmation tapes, sats, mind movies, etc. as long as you can persist with it. give it time. give it time. give it time. in other aspects of the world, you give change some time. when you're calcium deficient and you decide to drink calcium supplements, you realize that it's counterproductive to ask "why am i still calcium deficient?" as soon as you start your regimen because you know your body is changing with the supplement and you put your trust into it. after all, why would you choose a supplement you have no faith on? you just give it time.
note: you can still manifest changes to be instant. you can affirm "i am seeing results now", "results come immediately", "my manifestation is quick". the amount of time you're using a technique does not equate to the amount of time your results will come.
the reason why i encourage you to practice for maximum 21 days is so you can fully explore and master the technique you chose. with the abundance of topics and methods discussed in social media, switching and trying new things is tempting. now, there is nothing wrong with this. it's just that, you wouldn't be able to take a step back and reflect on what worked and what takes more effort when you change techniques every so often.
try a technique that is popularized in the media. a lot of the times, the reason why this technique gained traction is either because it's simple or because it has worked for a lot of people. now, here's the thing: if said technique wasn't for you, at least you can say "oh this is a tiktok/twitter/youtube/old/beginner technique, there are other techniques out there" and you can try another technique with less resistance. but, if it did work, then it did. congratulations.
you can invent your own. here are some techniques that i invented throughout the years.
a. "name is set and solid with the fact that..." - works amazing for sp, getting people to commit, getting people to pursue you
b. "okay! manifestation powers go brrr!" - funny but i do this when I'm spiraling; it also helps me surrender doubts and i think it's because it's so simple and unserious lmao
you can combine them. for example, you want to do sats but you cannot hold a vision for long, what you can do is montage photos or videos that is similar to the vision you want to manifest. you can also have affirmation tapes running in the background.
3. "concept" work can be such a banger. assumptions are basically the conception about the world, about yourself, about the people around you. hence, when you manifest and apply the law of assumption, you change or reinforce a conception.
these can be done through:
self-concept
what it is: your awareness about yourself; the way you perceive yourself.
how you can apply it: there are multiple ways to establish your self-concept but the best way, is to start reinforcing the universal truth: that you are inherently worthy. you deserve money and resources because you are worthy. you deserve love because you are worthy. you deserve ease because you are worthy.
other ways to grow your self-concept is celebrating the identities you have within yourself that you like e.g. that you are strong, you are disciplined, you are beautiful. be careful about strongly tying yourself into these identities though because these are not the reasons why you shall receive. again, you shall receive because you are inherently worthy.
why it works: by having a strong self-concept, you develop ease. you are less likely to rationalize or question the law or why you deserve the things you're asking for. and as you may think, rationalizing may be a form of resistance. questioning may be a form of resistance.
one of the ways i have seen this is when people receive incentives from work, instead of just receiving or saying "thank you", they say things like "what have i done to receive this?", sometimes completely rejecting this gift because of fear that they might lose something when they receive. this can be an example of a weak self-concept. consequently, the company starts questioning "did my employer really do enough to receive this?".
on the other hand, someone with a strong self-concept can take this incentive and buy the things they like because they know they deserve it. they can also take this incentive and say to themselves "oh it's because i worked hard these past few days". it's the knowing and confidence they have within themselves that everything around them has no other option but to recognize.
conception of other things (e.g. of love, of money, of a specific person)
you can work on your conception of other things the same way you work on your self-concept: choosing a narrative that is uplifting to you.
in case you have resistance to a specific object, you can also listen to people's success stories to start shifting to a more positive and desirable perception. one of the ways i do this is by going back to abdullah and neville's story. these two men lived at difficult times, through difficult eras, yet they manifested their desires. they managed to let go of the 3D.
4. practice some distance as you're starting. you were exposed to a different life before the law, it's only normal and human to have doubts or spiral once in a while. however, when you set distance on things that do not help you embody the state, you set distance on things that will feed your doubts and spiraling.
for example, if you're shifting to a state of wealth and you're affirming "i have 1,000 dollars". it's unhelpful and opposing to be constantly surrounded by someone else saying "you only have 10 dollars".
now, i do understand that not everyone can do this right away because of circumstances. but PLEASE do whatever you can to set this distance. find a voice to reinstate your truth.
a personal story, i am an asian girl living with a grandmother who was pessimistic about love because her two children (my mom and my aunt) struggled with it. because of this, she used to constantly remind me of how love is difficult. i didn't know this at the time, but this created a set of beliefs in my head. consequently, as a teenager, i only seeked and allowed love which was difficult because that was all i've ever known. that was all my assumption.
but around the pandemic, i went back to the countryside with my dad where i had a lot of time on my own. this was when i got deep into new-age spirituality and did shadow work. from here, i realized: this is not my assumption about love. before my parents broke up, my assumption was that love is easy. you only have to make the other person laugh. when i was busy in school and would spend most of the time at my friend's house, my assumption was that love is support and light. i started to get these epiphanies that a lot of my pessimistic perception was because of someone i was constantly surrounded with and that i have to build new assumptions.
but around august 2020, i have to go back to the city with my grandmom. i was afraid of the toll i might get into when i got back. however, because i already practiced distance and understood what are the assumptions that serve me, what are the assumptions that i want, i was more at peace. i listed down affirmations about myself, about love, about money, about being "deserving".
after this, every time she told me what love was, i can stop her and say no. i can tell her that it's not the universal truth, and certainly not mine. along the way, i started manifesting that she believes love is easy and supportive. i started manifesting that she believes i deserve love that is soft and tender.
then, when i got into my relationship, she was nothing but happy and supportive.
other ways i have practiced distance while manifesting:
unfollowing content creators who normalized hating men.
unfollowing content creators who were shady and negative about relationships.
unfriending highschool guy friends who do not make me feel safe about men.
unfriending relatives who make unnecessary comments about my looks, my studies, my relationship, and my earnings.
unfollowing girls who made me feel bad about also liking girls.
unfollowing manifestation gurus who romanticize struggles because "the more you struggle, the more you get blessed"
unfollowing manifestation gurus who say stuff like "if you want money, you have to take action to deserve it. not just manifesting"
now, you can totally manifest these people to change and be better, as long as it will make you feel good.
that's all i can share today (since this post is already getting long). i hope you learned a thing or two. thank you so much for reading. i love you and i appreciate you !
xo
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akawrites000 · 4 months
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casually caring for someone (2) - a prompt list
one handing the other their jacket because they're feeling cold. "are you cold? here, take my jacket."
B's jacket looks too big on A, making them look more smaller than they are. 'they're adorable', B thinks. A looks at them a little cluelessly, struggling to wear it properly. B just sighs, fond, and helps them out.
A and B introducing each other to new experiences, making each other's lives more fulfilling. "here, I got this for you"; "do you want to go there with me?"
A knows B loves sweets so gets them sweets from their hometown and B looks like Christmas came early. "are all of these for me? you're the best!!" A just smiles fondly at them, nodding happily.
A and B go out with B's friend, who walks a little too quickly. A can't really keep up, but they try, not wanting to bring it up and make the third person feel uncomfortable. B notices, walks slower to match A's pace and gently alerts their friend - "hey C, can we walk a little slower?"
one invites the other over to an activity that they know they'll like, to cheer them up, make them smile or just to spend more time with them.
giving each other compliments that go beyond the surface/looks, choosing to compliment them about their personality. "I like the way you pour your heart into everything you do"; " i don't know what it is that you're doing, but keep doing what you're doing - just keep being yourself"; "I'm able to be myself with you and it feels nice."
one staying back after their lecture to wait for the other (and sometimes pretending that they weren't waiting for a long time, to not make the other feel guilty).
A wants to host B for a change because B does that for them all the time. They're seriously amazed and in awe of B's ability to host, that they become nervous when the time comes. "hey, relax, I came here for you, so you should just be yourself."
A and B hang out at a common friend's house, and B chooses to leave earlier than A. Before they go, they make sure to tell their friend, "please make sure A gets home early and safe."
A and B go to shop for some clothes, and A waits for B right outside the dressing room while they're trying on their clothes. When B comes out, a pleasant smile pulls on their lips to see A still waiting for them. "It's your turn now," B says, placing a gentle hand on A's shoulder, "I'll wait for you right here."
A considers themselves as a soft-spoken person, they don't really raise their voice and because of that, they often feel like they're not heard, or like they have to say something more than once to be heard. it makes them really insecure and they try to be louder, but it's still hard for them to do it most of the time. B always hears them though; reacts even when A calls out for them only once and it never fails to warm A's heart.
When A and B are part of group discussions, one always makes sure that the other is heard / has a chance to give their opinions. "Hey A, what do you think about this?"; "I think B hasn't had a chance to give their opinion yet".
(y'all really seemed to like this one a lot, so here's a part 2! I hope you'll enjoy this one too <3 thank you for all the love and support 💗)
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Lip Gloss (Lucifer x Reader Drabble)
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A/N: I was inspired to write this based on this Hello Kitty apple flavored lip gloss that I saw yesterday. I was tempted to buy it lol. Also I'm just getting back into writing, so it may be a bit choppy teehee
Warnings: Slightly sexual, the use of the word apple way too many times...Lucifer may be a little ooc?
If there was one thing that Lucifer loved, it was ducks. But if there was a second thing that Lucifer absolutely adored, it would be apples. Since you have known Lucifer, he has always been obsessed with integrating apples in your daily lives. From his coat that he wears everyday down to the small engravings in the wood framing of your shared bed, apples were everywhere. All of his favorite foods consisted of some type of apple, whether it be apple fritters or apple pie. He had apple themed pajamas, apple themed silverware, apple themed pillows even. The man was completely obsessed. 
So that’s why you should not have been surprised with your current situation. Pressed up against the wall with hands pinned above your head, you were face to face with Lucifer. His pupils resembled a solar eclipse, strands of his platinum blond hair sticking up wildly. 
Both of you guys were supposed to have met with Charlie and Vaggie for a nice dinner at Ozzie’s thirty minutes ago. While getting ready you had complimented your look with a new apple flavored lip gloss that you had gotten out of amusement a few days prior. With as affectionate Lucifer was, you knew that he would like the new addition, but you were unaware of how feral it would make him. 
Just as you were heading out, Lucifer brought you in for a sweet kiss; it was something he did on autopilot, a small display of his endless love; however, once his lips tasted the crisp apple flavor, he almost melted. 
Thus, your wall predicament. 
“Your lips taste like apples…” Lucifer mumbled, his voice making the statement almost sound like a question. His gaze was focused on your now smudged lips. 
“I-I, well…I bought it f-from that new store and it was cute, and I know how much you love apples b-but I didn’t think…” Your stuttering trailed off as a smirk stretched across his porcelain skin, his tongue peaking through and wiping away the remnants of the gloss on his lips.
You tried to look away from the sinful eroticism on display, face completely flushed. “Shouldn’t we, um, go? We’re already-” 
But before you could finish your thought, Lucifer had pressed his lips to yours. The grip he had over your hands tightened as he nibbled your bottom lip, the apple flavored gloss long lost.
You were fully consumed, bodies ablaze as you leaned in impossibly close to him. While Lucifer had a long list of talents and skills, his ability to make you feel alive despite your dwindling breath, to erase the past and future and tethering you distinctly to the present, had to be one of his greatest. It was just you. It was just him. 
A small whimper escaped his throat as your hands escaped from his grasp, finding purchase in his hair. His hands shakily roamed your body, leaving a trail of electricity that caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your lower regions. 
As Lucifer pulled away - eyes dilated and jacket crinkled - he looked dazed, the same way he appeared in the early mornings. The smirk that was thickly painted on his face was replaced with a goofy smile. 
How dare this man steal your breath away and look so innocent afterwards? 
“Oh golly, we're going to be late! We needed to be there 40 minutes ago!” Lucifer exclaimed as he looked at his wrist. 
You patted yourself down, trying to smooth down your hair and fix your also wrinkled clothes. “It’s almost as if I tried telling you that 10 minutes ago” You teased. 
Lucifer laughed as he lightly reached for your hand. “Well, I mean, did you really expect me to contain myself when your lips tasted that good?” 
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seancekitsch · 22 days
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Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\
uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!
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You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.
“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.
“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.
Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.
“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”
Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.
“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.
“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”
“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.
Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.
“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”
The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.
“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.
“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”
Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.
“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”
There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.
You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.
Your art gallery. Right.
“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.
Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.
You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.
“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.
Oh shit.
Lucifer found THAT room.
You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.
He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.
“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.
Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.
“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”
It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.
“But the artist-“
“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.
“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.
Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.
“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”
You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.
“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.
“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.
“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.
You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.
You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.
You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.
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flamingpudding · 7 months
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Fictober23 Prompt: 4 - "Do you even know what this means?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: G
Warnings: -
Tim stared at his family with pure exhaustion before letting out a sigh while covering his face with his hands because of the worried looks they were sending him after his long rant.
It had all started with a stupid school project. It was just supposed to be a stupidly simple school project. Did he think of the whole thing as the greatest nonsense project his school has ever come up with? Yes. Did he still do it? Yes. He needed the extra credits, because of some stupid meetings he had missed other projects which was the entire reason he took part in this one.
Maybe he should have tried buying his grade out of it like all the other snobbish rich kids but then he would feel guilty and the moment Alfred found out, he would have to life with the disappointed™ look. Something he really didn't want to deal with. So instead he took part in this stupid ancestry project his school had organized.
But when he had allowed the school to send in his DNA he certainly did not expect the result he got back. Because when he opened the email, he noted that it was addressed to someone named Danny Fenton not Tim Drake, he didn't even read the rest really. That should have been his first warning.
His second warning was when he had hacked into the that DNA testing facility to actually get his results back and then found a note on his data file about a near 100% DNA match to one Danny Fenton which caused them to assumed that Tim was Danny and just had sent in his DNA a second time after, he peaked through his finger onto the screen, 5 years. That should have been his second warning.
But no, Tim had actively ignored all the warnings and decided to dig into who this Danny Fenton was. Because there were so many possibilities of how they could match but only so little to explain the time difference between them sending in the DNA samples. For dear good Tim hoped to all things that there wasn't someone else to have attempted to clone him before Ra, no worse even, he hoped HE wasn't the clone in this situation.
Really he didn't want to add existential crisis to all the problems and cases he already had to deal with.
So what does one do best when they learn there was someone with nearly the same DNA you have? He looked that someone up. So that was what Tim did next. He had spent nights looking up anything he could find, summarizing all the information he found, branching off when he found other concerning stuff and then stewed in some frustration of the incompetence of some people when discovering other facts.
In the end Tim compiled all the data he had found into a 30 slides long power point. That he had presented to his family and was awaiting their reaction. Bruce had grunted earlier and the demon brat had huffed out something in between slight 25 and 26 earlier. Jason had muttered something right at the beginning and Dick had stayed quiet the entire time, so did Cass. Steph hadn't said a thing either and Duke looked just puzzled.
"Do you even know what that means?" Demon brat finally broke the silence, causing Tim's eye to twitch before aggressively pointing to his last slide still on the presenter.
"Yes, I do know what this means. I have listed all possibilities right here if you haven't noticed. And i explained possibility three, four and six on slide-"
"Replacement. I don't think that's what the brat means." Jason cut in and Tim glared at him.
"Timmy, when was the last time you slept?" Dick carefully asked and Tim directed his glare at him.
"I believe Master Timothy hasn't slept for about 72 hours now." Alfred added in with that disapproving stare of him and time looked away stubbornly. How was the amount of sleep he got relevant right now? There was a possibility of him being a clone or someone having cloned maybe even years before he started to follow B around as a kid with a camera.
Bruce let out a sigh and Steph appeared to try to hide a chuckle leaning on Cass shoulder. "He must be lacking sleep if he doesn't see the most obvious possibility considering the time line he presented on slide 18."
"Oh so, I am not the only one thinking he is missing another obvious possibility?" Duke asked and once more Tims eye twitched. Getting fed up with his family, Tim huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at them all.
"And what is it that I am obviously missing?"
"The screenshot of the mail you put in slide 3 stated that it's not a 100% match but 89%. In addition it stated in the last line a suspected possibility of a familiar relation. I am disappointed, Drake. That you would miss something this obvious."
"What?" Tim whirled around going to the slide to reread the mail.
"Considering that I am pretty sure, we don't have any sort of cloning case here Tim." Dick started his voice now slightly laced with Humor and Tim narrowed his eyes at his older brother over his shoulder. "You just discovered that you had a twin, that we probably still go to rescue."
Tim's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He did not know what to say and before he could even catch up with what his brothers had said Alfred was already behind him pushing him towards the elevator.
"It is time for you to get some sleep Master Timothy. I am sure Master Bruce and the others will be perfectly able to handle the rest of the situation with the information you compiled. You can join them after you have rested."
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urdepressedslut · 10 months
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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part five❞
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?
♡ Warnings: self hate, mentions of parent death/family death, panic attack, heavy angst, fluff, literally sobbing i love them
Part 6
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au
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It was almost becoming a mantra, reminding himself daily that he needed to keep things strictly professional. He just didn’t realize how hard it would be. You were so easy to be around, it was a different change of pace with you, he felt he could actually think— slow his mind down around you.
He had tried to digest the thought many times.
I could be her friend, nothing more.
Would it be unprofessional though? He tries to think how Pierce would react to that. He feels completely and utterly confused— the devil and angel on his shoulders battling constantly.
Even then, he was already a bad friend— if that. He was keeping something from you— something extreme. He had caught himself thinking of where you could be in the house— the part of him deep down wanting to tell you. He knew he should, but he knew that’s not what Pierce wanted. If anything, Bucky didn’t want to mess anything up— or he’d never see you again. The thought shouldn’t of scared him as much as it did, but he didn’t like it.
That’s where he found himself in the bathroom of his room, staring into his own eyes through the reflection. He had showered and caught himself trying to find a nice shirt amongst his clothes— immediately he stopped. He had to take a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself how ridiculous he was being.
It had been so long since he actually cared about his appearance. But as he was scanning every line and wrinkle on his face in the mirror— he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt insecure, and for once it wasn’t about his arm. His mind was consumed with the thought if he was good enough. While he felt overwhelmed, because he had never worried about such a thing. Well, in awhile at least.
You had kept yourself busy in the library for most of the day, and while you looked to be buried into the books— your thoughts were of him. You couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that his words gave you— his want to get to know you better. Maybe, just maybe— he wanted to be your friend.
Just as you were about to get up and leave to seek out Bucky, you heard the sound of the library doors opening. A smile worked its way onto your face, excited to see him— though you had just seen him not that long ago.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the space, and soon revealed a handsome looking Bucky. Your mouth hung slightly open, his appearance looking sharper than usual. He was wearing his classic black shirt, and had the black leather jacket over— along with his jeans that hugged him just right in all the areas. He wasn’t dressed all that different, so why did he look so good.
You cleared your throat and broke your stare— yes he looked good. But you shouldn’t stare.
“You look great James, I wish I would’ve put something better on.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts— along with your different colored socks.
Bucky on the other hand, thought you looked fine. He was pretty sure you could wear pretty much anything and look good in it. He also shook off your compliment, thinking you were just being sweet like you always were.
“You look fine, (Y/n).” He assured you.
Truthfully, standing here in front of you now— Bucky wants nothing more than to go back upstairs, choosing to avoid getting to know you better. He wasn’t sure why his walls were coming down so easily, but he hated it. Oh he hated it— he hated you.
“So…” You started, walking back to your seat. Bucky followed after and took his spot from the nights before. “I know this kinda takes the fun out of this but— I had a list of questions.”
Bucky shook his head but chuckled lowly, not surprised at all.
“Of course you do.” He acknowledged, and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.
“Uh— but there are rules! I made them up of course— but there aren’t many.” You rushed out, sitting crisscrossed in your seat.
Bucky exhaled annoyed, but couldn’t really argue otherwise. This was his idea. Was it to distract you from going out? Yes. But a part of him really did want to get to know you better.
“Alright, what’s the rules?” He asked, crossing his leg over the other— leaning back in his seat.
“Okay the first one— you have to answer the question that’s asked, no matter what.” You told him, watching him raise his eyebrows.
“Easy.”
You giggled, remembering how fast the conversation ended last time because he didn’t want to answer. This would be harder than he thought— but you wouldn’t call him out on it.
“Second rule— Can’t ask dumb questions.” You told him, and he chuckled again.
“That’s the second rule?” He chuckled, and you nodded your head.
“Yup.” You confirmed, “Okay— who should go first?”
You were ready to jump right into it, while Bucky was still thinking about your rules— rethinking his decision to do this.
“Why don’t you start doll, since you apparently have a list.” He spoke sarcastically, and you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname.
He never called you that before, and you didn’t know what to think of it.
“Um… okay yeah,” You thought about your first question, deciding to go easy on him at first, “What’s something you like to do on your free time?”
Bucky squinted his eyes, expecting a more personal question from you. He also had to think for a second— what did he like to do? He used to have hobbies at one time, but he couldn’t recall any in the moment. He felt he was a pretty boring person. There was one thing.
“I like to read sometimes.” He answered, and you smiled at that.
“Really? You don’t seem to spend a lot of time in the library for someone who likes to read.” You joked— knowing he was rather busy with his job as a bodyguard.
“Well, if I had free time— I’d probably be here.” He pointed out, slowly melting into his seat, his muscles relaxing against the couch.
“Okay your turn.” You told him.
Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he as well had a list of questions for you. Things he was dying to know about you.
“What do you want to do in the future?” He asked, and you looked at him with furrowed brows.
“Huh?”
“What’s your dream job— like, what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Besides read.” He added at the end, making you giggle.
You thought about your answer for a moment, smiling to yourself when you came up with one.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever stay in one spot, there’s so much I want to do. But whatever happens, I wanna volunteer places. I want to help people— help them heal, cope. I just wanna do good.” You explained happily.
Bucky was not surprised by your answer by the slightest— of course you wanted to be helpful. It only made sense with your bubbly personality. He cleared his throat, fighting down a smile.
“Your turn again.”
You nodded and took a second to think of a question again, closing your eyes in thought. An idea popped into your head and you were hesitant about it. Last time you’d brought it up— he left.
“What’s your family like?” You asked anyway, keeping your voice soft in hopes he’d feel more comfortable.
Bucky tensed immediately and just glared at you for a second. His jaw clenched, and his eyes squinted at you. He was annoyed at you pestering him with this question— he’d answer every single one but this one. He’d play dirty if you were.
“My family… isn’t around anymore.” He answered quietly, his anger lacing his words.
His tone had you swallowing nervously, and deep down you regretted asking him. You didn’t mean any harm by the question, and you immediately felt bad. Your heart hurt for him, the way he didn’t have a family.
“I— James I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t o—”
You tried to apologize but got cut off.
“My turn.” He interrupted, sitting up in his seat now. His whole body tense again, his relaxed muscles no more. “Why does your Father hate you?”
He couldn’t stop himself from letting the words out, but as soon as they passed his lips— he was ashamed of himself. His face softened immediately at your face dropping, the way your fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the hem of your shirt.
You were shocked— at a loss for words. You probably deserved his anger, but you weren’t expecting such a harsh question. You felt your chest tighten, and suddenly you weren’t in denial anymore. Everything you’d ever thought— the nights you wondered if your Father really did hate you. You pushed away with a laugh, knowing he could never. But now as someone else witnessed it, and pointed it out. It ought to be true— and you felt sick.
“Um… He’s just having a h-hard time with the passing of my…” You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighter than usual. “Hard time with my mothers passing is all.”
You repeated from the first day meeting him. Your head pounded— your ears thumping loudly. Your fingers were numb and you felt like you couldn’t swallow.
Were you having an allergic reaction to something?
You tried to take another deep breath and felt your chest stop expanding. Your eyes widened in panic for a second.
Bucky felt so shitty— he couldn’t control himself for a simple question. The fact that you had answered it anyway broke his heart. He watched as your eyes darted around, in search of help. The way he could start to hear your breathing— the way you were beginning to wheeze.
“(Y/n), you ok—”
“Excuse m-me for a s-second.” You rushed out, stumbling out of your chair and towards the library doors.
Bucky was concerned for you, standing up immediately to go follow you. He was so ashamed of himself, angry that he let himself lose control like that. He had sensitive topics that just brought up a defensive side in him. The image of your face as soon as he had said the words was burned into his brain. You didn’t deserve that— you had been nothing be sweet since you two had met.
Making it up the stairs, he started down the hallway— body tensing in alert at the sight of you sitting up against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, kneeling down to your curled up form, scanning over you for injuries.
“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked frantic, he noticed your hand clutching the area above your heart.
You shook your head, but seemed confused— and only panicked more when you couldn’t get the words out right away.
“I c-can’t breathe!” You wheezed out, your hand not clutching your chest— reaching out to grab onto Bucky.
You held onto him like he was your lifeline.
“I-I think I’m having a-an allergic reaction.” You panted, fisting Bucky’s sleeve in panic.
Bucky didn’t know it was possible for his heart to break anymore— but he swore he heard the cracking sound. He felt it drop to his stomach, his own throat tightening with emotions. You were having a panic attack— and it was because of him. You had no idea, and yet here you were still clinging onto him when he was the cause of it all. He was disgusted with himself.
“(Y/n)— you’re not having an allergic reaction. You’re having a panic attack.” He explained to you clearly, holding onto your shoulders, trying to bring you comfort.
You nodded in understanding, feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen to the brain. Tears began to escape your eyes, you felt helpless— you felt like you were dying.
“James…” You whimpered, “I’m s-scared!”
Again, he felt his non existent heart break again— falling into his stomach. He felt sick watching this go down, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a nightmare.
He had experience with panic attacks and luckily knew what to do— he just couldn’t get over the fact that he caused it.
He grabbed your hand fisting his sleeve and put it above his heart. You lifted your flushed face, your bloodshot eyes watching your hand. You could feel the strong thump of his heartbeat, the feeling soothing against your palm.
“I want you to try and breathe with me, okay? I want you to match my heartbeat. You feel it?” He asked you softly, his voice gentle like honey.
You nodded your head, trying to focus on slowing your breathing— stop your chaotic mind from spiraling.
“In… and out— In… and out.” He started breathing, and you struggled to match him at first, but as your eyes met with his— you felt your heartbeat start to match his rhythm.
His eyes were comforting and warm. You felt safe in his hold— and you could already start to feel your everything relaxing.
“Good, just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you— you’re gonna be okay.” He assured you, rubbing your shoulders up and down soothingly.
You knew you’d be risking it, but you slowly moved forward— wrapping your arms around his bulky frame.
Bucky tensed up at first, a part of him knowing he should push you away— this wasn’t professional. But he knew he couldn’t— not after what he did. He relaxed, and wrapped his arms hesitantly around your back, hugging you tight against him. He could feel your quick heartbeat thumping competitively against his. He could feel your breath fanning his neck— as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck.
He hadn’t felt such affection in so long— he had missed how much he craved the protection— the security he felt being in someone’s arms.
Now, in Bucky’s hold— you felt at peace. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. You still trusted him with your life.
“Doll,” You smiled weakly into his neck, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t of asked you that— I’m an asshole.”
You held onto him tighter— enjoying the embrace while you had it. You were sure it would never happen again.
“It’s okay James, I’m sorry too.” You weakly replied, your body drained of energy. “Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”
He wanted to scoff. You wanted to thank him for helping you out of a mess that he caused. You had the right to scream, punch, kick him. But he knew you’d never do that— and that’s what killed him.
He didn’t know how to respond to your thanks, and stayed silent instead. Holding onto you— never intending to let go until you did first.
“I’m tired James.” You mumbled sleepily.
“I’ve got you doll.” He whispered, easily standing with you in his arms.
He slowly and carefully carried you to your room, setting you down gently onto your bed. He was having déjà vu— memories of when he first carried you to bed that one night.
He lifted the covers, tucking you in. He watched you for a second, examining your face like you were a piece of art. His eyes danced all the way from your chin— passed your lips— to your eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. You sighed and leaned into his touch, and this time— he didn’t fight the smile down. He gazed down at you warmly, genuinely smiling for the first time in awhile.
“Stay with me.” You mumbled sleepily, just as you had wanted to that one night.
Bucky took a deep breath, staring down at you with sudden tenderness. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.
“Okay.” He told you, watching you give a small smile in your sleep. Snuggling your face into the pillow.
Although both of you didn’t really get to scratch off every question of each others list— you both felt more connected after today. You just wanted someone, someone constant in your life. Bucky needed more light in his life— like you.
You both needed each other more than you realized.
🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍
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cryptotheism · 6 months
Text
Ranking Every Large Monster in Monster Hunter Rise by How Tasty I Think They Would Be:
A TIER - Delicious Tier. Monsters that are prized for their delicious meat. The tier reserved for luxury meats like foie gras, or wagyu beef. 
Tetranodon [A+]
Luxurious, fatty, versatile, and convenient. These massive omnivorous amphibians cushion their ponderous weight with layers of marbled fat. Shanks are delicious spit-roasted over an open flame, or breaded and fried in their own drippings. Neck, and breasts are cubed for stew meat and stuffed back into the shell with herbs for pit baking. Butt and sirloin are slow-cooked in clay pots to reduce in their own fat like fine carnitas. 
Jyuratodus [A]
These omnivorous filter-feeders are prized in-universe for their meat. Its bipedal stance but fishlike physiology imply a meat somewhere between salmon, catfish, and chicken. Denser thighs are cut into steaks and smoked. The more muscular sirloin is butterflied and deep-fried like catfish filets. The fatty brisket would be the finest cut, reserved for sushi. 
Lagombi [A-]
The already-delicious rabbit, evolved for long-pursuit sub-arctic grazing. Powerful hip joints cushioned by layers of cold-resistant fat. The lagombi would produce a brisket fit for the pinnacles of sephardic cuisine, basted in honey, orange juice, prunes, and apricots. Shoulder and rump should be sliced thin, basted with herbs and oil, and used for gyros. 
(Long Post Ahead)
B TIER - Ordinary Tier. Monsters that can be eaten, and eaten well. The tier of humble, everyday meats like chicken, pork, and beef. 
Great Izuchi / Great Wroggi / Great Baggi [B+]
The chicken of monster hunter ecology. When butchered and clipped of their poison sacs, claws and feet, I can imagine these beasts whole roasted like a holiday turkey, or spit roasted like rotisserie chicken. Given their tails and posture, I imagine they taste slightly oily and gamey, closer to pheasant or game hen than chicken, but still wholly within the realm of chicken. 
Kulu-Ya-Ku [B+] 
A leaner, more agile cousin of the great Izuchi. Similar to Cornish game hen, their limbs produce less meat, but their bodies are traditionally eaten stuffed with herbs, and basted with fat during baking. Flesh is similar to waterfowl, oily, slightly dense, but a sponge for flavor. Not fatty enough to fire-roast, but careful baking can produce a delicious Kulu-Ya-Ku a l'orange. 
Aknosom [B]
Would be placed higher on this list were it not for the complication of having to butcher and remove the flame sac. Specialty cuisines would be developed for cooking a butchered aknosom in its own fluids. Slightly more fat than the Kulu-Ya-Ku, but I would prefer stewing, perhaps an aknosom vindaloo. 
Anjanath [B]
A large monster, armored with dense fat rather than scales. Two caveats: Anjanath eat just about anything, so the taste of their meat would heavily depend on the anjanath's diet, and their flame sac is notably more complex than many other fire-breathing monsters. If properly grazed on offal and vegetables scrap, their meat has a texture somewhere between beef and pork. The top sirloin is especially prized, but notably difficult to acquire. 
Diabolos  [B-]
Most of the meat on these massive, armored predators is far too dense to be worth eating. However, their fatty brisket and thighs are delicious after significant, significant slow-roasting. A favorite for BBQ. 
Rathalos / Rathain [B-]
These large, agile predators are eaten more for their abundance than their taste. Rath meat is similar to horse in texture; stringy, sparse, and of variable taste depending on their hosts diet. Most chefs get around the unpleasant texture by grinding cuts into hamburger or sausage filling, and spicing heavily. 
C TIER - Uncommon Tier. Monsters who can be eaten, but are likely not one’s first choice. The tier of uncommon meats such as rabbit, crocodile, and venison. 
Royal Ludroth [C+]
The neck sacs are unpleasantly spongy, and taste of pus if butchered incorrectly. The meat itself is passable, but similar to gator, dense, fishy, chewy if improperly cooked. The choicest cuts are the tail and sirloin, ideal for gumbo. Skillful chefs can produce a wonderful griddle-cooked Ludroth-mac-n-cheese. 
Somnacanth [C+]
Surprisingly difficult to butcher. These creatures feature a complex endocrine system that constantly threatens to ruin their frankly sparse and oily meat. Skilled chefs marinate tail and belly cuts in a sweet and savory sauce, to produce a result strangely similar to pineapple marinated fish, or somnacanth al-pastor. 
Almurdron [C]
Nearly inedible, but can produce delicacies when butchered properly. Their serpentine bodies are extremely muscular, and feature a weaponized excretory tract that can make the meat foul and actively dangerous to consume if butchered improperly. When prepared correctly, most of the animal is discarded, save for the sheathe of subcutaneous fat and tissue which can be used as a sausage casing. Ground almurdron offal sausage is a common feed for domesticated carnivores, but is occasionally enjoyed by humans. The discerning chef may long-cure the meat, producing a rare and exotic cold-cut enjoyed similarly to a rattlesnake sausage. 
Basarios [C]
Tough, dense, extraordinarily difficult to butcher. The sheer amount of effort involved in butchering these creatures for consumption often outstrips their culinary benefits. When they are eaten, they are drained by the neck and packed in clay for pit baking. Even then, the meat is spongy and gamey, not unlike raw calamari or rocky mountain oysters. 
Barroth [C]
Similar to a great Izuchi, but tougher, chewier, less available, and far more difficult to butcher. Even skilled butchers and captive ranchers have been unable to remove the faint muddy taste from the meat. A tragedy, in that they are almost tasty in so many ways.  
Bishaten [C-]
Of questionable ethicality. Meat has a taste smack dab between pork and chicken, but very lean and slightly gamey. Generally does not have enough meat to be considered worth hunting for consumption, and their diet is varied enough to make the taste a gamble. Occasionally, the fruits they collect may ferment in their pouches. A bishaten persimmon wine reduction is considered a rare delicacy, but generally requires cultivation in captivity. 
Rajang [C-]
Skirting the lower end of edibility is the rajang. Meat is leathery, gamey, and chewy, like a steak that worked out before the slaughter. The organ systems that maintain their extraordinary muscle strength may even continue to hold a charge after death, and butchers must be careful to ground the beast before applying any metal tools. Requires cooking so slow that one generally has time to hunt two more beasts in the meantime. 
D TIER - Delicacy Tier. Monsters that probably should not be eaten, are only partially edible, or require special preparation. The tier of snake, fish eyes, chicken feet, and most edible insects. 
Pukei-Pukei [D+]
Proper butchery of these animals requires extreme skill. Well made Pukei-Pukei pate is treated as a rite-of-passage for aspiring master chefs. A single Pukei-Pukei will only produce 2lbs of fatty cheek, and a single mistake could flood the meat with its deadly toxins. The meat itself is delicate, fatty, and flavorful, akin to a lovechild of white fish and high-quality chicken. 
Tobi-Kadachi [D+]
A Tobi-Kadachi’s spines are actually articulated electrosensory organs, akin to insect mandibles. Each follicle is surrounded by a powerful muscle sphincter, and loops into the creature’s endocrine system. Butchery is an exhausting process of plucking and deveining, all for subcutaneous back tissue that is underwhelming and stringy. Ideal serving would be finely ground and baked into a pie. 
Goss Harag [D+]
These creatures are not hunted for their meat. Due to a unique quirk of the goss-harag’s sebaceous glands, the creature’s adipose deposits gain a unique flavor. Sufficiently mature Goss Harag lard has an herbal, almost minty, flavor. Its culinary use is divisive, a favorite to some, and reviled by others. Their meat is leathery, foul, and dense. Their livers are sweet, and excellent source of vitamin C when eaten raw, but few culinarians are so adventurous. 
Barioth [D+]
Meat is overwhelmingly dense, stringy, and run through with the creature’s jellylike blubber. Some cultures do consume the liver, heart, and testicles, as a source of essential vitamins in sub-arctic environments, but these require skillful butchery and unorthodox techniques to prepare. Offal is sometimes ground and compacted into a baloney-like loaf that is surprisingly good on sandwiches, or stir-fried with eggs.
Tigrex [D]
Tigrex meat is so dense that it cannot be butchered along traditional lines. Ordinarily fatty cuts like breasts and thighs are akin to eating grilled steel wire. However, the lungs, diaphragm, and pelvic muscles are edible after a few days of slow-cooking. Even then, they are quite dense. It is meat that demands a 24 hour pit bake, the realm of BBQ chefs with an experimental streak, or more patience than sense.
Ibushi / Narwa [D]
Bizarre biology and sheer rarity make these creatures a true challenge for the aspiring game chef. Those privileged enough to dine on Narwa meat have described it as fishy and gritty, similar to crab with notes of ozone. Efforts have been made into the production of Ibushi caviar, but none have since been successful. 
Bazelgeuse [D]
Inedible. Even attempting butchery can cost an overconfident chef their hand. However, their unfertilized eggs are delicious, a bomb of umami and natural capcasin. Ideal for Huevos Rancheros or about ten savory omelets. 
Arzuros [D-]
When raised in captivity, on a purely vegetarian diet of herbs, honey, and berries, their meat can be edible. Given that Arzuros are an omnivorous predator, the ethicality of this is contested. Even when properly farmed, arzuros meat is lumpy, unpleasantly textured, and lacking in any distinct flavor. All of the time, controversy, and resources required to produce a single Arzuros steak would be better spent on Tetranodon. 
Nargacuga [D-]
Only edible in that it can be physically consumed. Nargacuga meat is relegated to fringe cuisine, the purview of dubious half-magical medicinal stews and rumors during famine years. The meat is unpleasant, somehow bland, foul, dry, and oily at the same time. Only theoretically edible when mixed with other meats, and heavily spiced. Additionally, the creature’s adrenal secretions can be actively dangerous in more than trace amounts. Improper butchery can make the meat hazardous to consume. 
Chameleos [D-]
Most of these creatures are inedible. The biological mechanisms that facilitate their light-bending abilities are not understood by zoologists, much less chefs. Their meat is sparse and leathery, similar to ludroth, but is also to cause a dangerous allergic reaction in more than 50% of consumers. The only part of the Chameleos known to be safe is their eyes, which are candied and served with sweet rice as a dessert delicacy. 
Mizutsune [D-]
Tastes of soap. Only reached D rank because roughly 10% of the population bears a genetic quirk that makes Mizutsune meat taste like cilantro. 
F TIER - Inedible. Monsters that should not be eaten, cannot be eaten, or are actively dangerous to eat. 
Kushala Daora  [F+]
With a skin of iron-laced keratin, the Kushala Daora is more fit to be used as a grill than placed upon it. The meat is dense, overwhelmingly bloody, and riven with grits of iron oxide. Tastes like iron shavings kneaded into leather. 
Khezu [F+]
It is said in-lore that many hunters have tried, and failed, to make the Khezu palatable. These giant leeches feature a complex digestive and endocrine system more useful for medical applications than cuisine. Escargot is already unpleasant. Even stir fried like chinese periwinkle snails, Khezu meat is far too muscular to eat. Tastes like an art eraser soaked in cough syrup. 
Rakna-Kadaki [F+]
Edible only in the sense that it can be physically consumed. Where the fire-breathing organs of other organisms can be removed during butchery, insect respiration is done through spiracles in the carapace. Spider meat already tastes of pus and rot, but the rakna-kadaki features overtones of sulphur and gasoline. 
Zingore [F]
A large, muscular, agile pursuit predator with biological mechanisms for electroconductivity. Wolflike predators already taste of gristle and death, but the Zingore’s electrochemical organ system taints its meat with an overwhelming flavor of bleach and battery acid. Meat is highly toxic to humans. 
Teostra [F]
A large, muscular pursuit predator known for attacking caravans to eat gunpowder. The meat is stringy, gristly, sulfurous, and smells of rotting eggs. Impossible to cook, as applying any sort of heat will cause the meat to rapidly combust. Tastes of old rope bathed in a sulfur vent. 
Valstrax [F-]
A heavily armored, extraordinarily agile aerial pursuit predator with a secondary respiration system to facilitate jet propulsion. Meat is stringy, rubbery, chemically astringent with overwhelming notes of crude oil and smog. Biological fluids are a chemical accelerant, and risk exploding if ignited. 
Magnamalo [F-]
The only thing that could make this monster edible would be slow-roasting in the whole shell. This should never be attempted. Given its purple coloration, the Magnamalo’s secondary respiration system exhales what is likely a complex and highly volatile lithium phosphate. Meat is dense, gristly, tastes of battery acid and spoiled wine. Risks exploding if ignited, oxygenated, or introduced to an electrical charge. 
Volvidon [F-]
Indescribably foul. The volvidon’s digestive tract produces both a paralytic venom, and a predator deterrent in the form of toxic flatulence. Consumption will risk paralysis and uncontrollable vomiting, risking a horrific death by asphyxiation. 
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