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soy-sauce-and-mothra · 7 months

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Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!

Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!

Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.

You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.

"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)

Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.

As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)

A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.

Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.

If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.

#yes some of this was directed at steven universe #the only thing su got right was bismuth crying when her anvil broke #cus those things are goddamn expensive and hard to transport #blacksmith #blacksmithing #writing #writing prompts #writing advice #writeblr #writer #writer problems #writerblr #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writers

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

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Wait, so you said that you can learn to trust others by building friendships, but how does one go about doing that? Wouldn't someone I don't know be creeped out or annoyed if I suddenly walked up and started talking to them?

Friendships are built of repeated low-stakes interactions and returned bids for attention with slowly increasing intimacy over time.

It takes a long time to make friends as an adult. People will probably think you're weird if you just walk up and start talking to them as though you are already their friend (people think it's weird when I do this, I try not to do this) but people won't think it's weird if you're someone they've seen a few times who says "hey" and then gradually has more conversations (consisting of more words) with them.

I cheat at forming adult friendships by joining groups where people meet regularly. If you're part of a radio club that meets once a week and you just join up to talk about radios, eventually those will be your radio friends.

If there's a hiking meetup near you and you go regularly, you will eventually have hiking friends.

Deeper friendships are formed with people from those kinds of groups when you do things with them outside of the context of the original interaction; if you go camping with your radio friend, that person is probably more friend than acquaintance. If you go to the movies with a hiking friend who likes the same horror movies as you do, that is deepening the friendship.

In, like 2011 Large Bastard decided he wanted more friends to do stuff with so he started a local radio meetup. These people started as strangers who shared an interest. Now they are people who give each other rides after surgery and help each other move and have started businesses together and have gone on many radio-based camping trips and have worked on each other's cars.

Finding a meetup or starting a meetup is genuinely the cheat-code for making friends.

This is also how making friendships at schools works - you're around a group of people very regularly and eventually you get to know them better and you start figuring out who you get along with and you start spending more time with those people.

If you want to do this in the most fast and dramatic way possible, join a band.

In 2020 I wrote something of a primer on how to turn low-stakes interactions with neighbors and acquaintances into more meaningful relationships; check the notes of this post over the next couple days, I'll dig up the link and share it in a reblog.

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shadowtraveled · 1 month

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"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #dungeon meshi #this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme #half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is #someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality #his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though #he says he tried to see the worst in them.#hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on #wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore.#but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once #snakes #long post #severe problems #meshy

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ghostfacd · 4 months

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SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO

pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)

summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you

installment of this au | read for context!

Time 1: Tom Blyth

“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”

That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.

“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.

“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.

“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.

“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”

“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”

Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung

It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.

“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.

“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.

“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”

“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”

“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”

“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”

“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”

And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.

Time 3: Timothee Chalamet

“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.

“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.

“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”

“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.

“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”

“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”

“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.

bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her

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user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness

user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭

user3 shows that yn is rly a good person

timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR

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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK

user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn

user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..

user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔

#Coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #the hunger games x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet

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shiroforest · 27 days

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In Shigaraki's psyche, Izuku saw a memory that's neither his nor Shigaraki's, and that memory is actually AFO's.

It's from 1st person point of view, in there, AFO seems to be acquainted with Shigaraki's Father, and AFO apparently worked in construction in Koga city (idk what 甲賀建設 Exactly means, but 建設 means construction or establishment, and 甲賀 is a city in Shiga Prefecture, and it's pretty close to Shizuoka Prefecture, where Izuku&his mom live)

Then AFO invited Shigaraki's Father over a drink, and asked about Shigaraki's quirk, to which his father said it still hasn't appeared/identified yet

You know what this means???

AFO must've LIVED A NORMAL LIVE sometimes to get acquainted with Shigaraki's Father while also monitor him!! Due to his connection with Nana.

And AFO asking about Shigaraki's quirk can either means he's monitoring if "Decay" has developed OR if Shigaraki can be GIVEN "Decay" later on.

This might also indicate that AFO also acquainted with Shimura household as a normal person, and if this shadowed figure with suits whom looked like AFO is indeed AFO, then it must've been like a family friend escorting the son back home

Anyway, AFO finally came out of Shigaraki's suppression, now we can see some Izuku and AFO interaction and maybe a confirmation about the validity of DFO theory!!!!

*it's also suspicious Izuku still DIDN'T GET TO SEE AFO's full face even from AFO's memory

**out of context, but AFO in his memory asked if Shigaraki's father had a lower back pain, and offered to introduce him to a good doctor, and i can't help but think "lol, it's just gonna be dr. Garaki isn't it? And he probably gonna order Garaki to do something to the only son of Nana" and the fact that AFO spoke to Shigaraki's Father SO POLITELY/using keigo (敬語) is weirdly nice, I'd like to see him speaks normally FULL FACE

***the irony of the villain who wrecked havoc in the country, might also once worked in construction of all places. Though it can be reasoned with "in order to destroy thoroughly, one must know how to built"

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moonastro · 2 months

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your fs's cute habits

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2,3

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑how to choose an image? take a deep breath, close your eyes, RELAX, and let your intuition do the rest.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑remember, you can be drawn to more than one picture!!

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).

° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

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pile one

they might have a smirk to their smile, or have this instinctive smile that they do that is unique to them. i don't know, it feels very cute though. like i see them doing it whenever they get shy or get suddenly happy. Also, along with that will be their laugh. they may have a distinctive laugh that they do. they may hit (in a friendly way) when laughing or they may get weak and pretend fall, and so on. i do see them being dramatic with it though😅. your person may randomly say what's on their mind without any context. like it will become so normal to you guys that you will either go with it or just ignore it. by random i mean like continuing a conversation you guys had 30 minutes ago and they add to it, or they purely just bring up the time when they were a kid and such. in public, i feel like they will be quite shy, they may unintentionally hide behind you especially if you are talking with someone or walk slightly behind. they may be a slow walker too, its not because they are slow but they get distracted easily. by the nature, the birds, the cars, the buildings etc etc. very much new soul vibes, taking in everything around them. they can be a collector and have a collection of little figures and items. it is their possessions and they will protect their collection with all their heart and take time to correct their positions and such when accidently moved.

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pile two

awk, this is too cute, so your partner may blush quite often. it may be from embarrassment, anger, stress, or getting put in the spotlight. you may find it cute because it can make you love them even more and it may make you feel like they are like more genuine?? anyway, they may space out quite often, probably just blanking out and staring into abyss. this may be a habit and they may have a nickname given from spacing out so much 😅. like for example, you may ask them a question and they reply with mumbles and when you say 'did you even hear what i said' they come back and go 'huh' or 'no, sorry'. you may laugh at it because you find the way they look doing it cute. you may find it cute when they get mad. they may have a face that they do or do a gesture that you notice each time. its giving me every time when they're angry you cant take them seriously and then they get even more mad. the way they eat/chew may be significant, so they may pout/ make a cute face when eating.

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pile three

okay, so pile 3, your person is giving very much clueless energy. i feel like most of the time they may not know what you may be talking about but they still contribute to the conversation so you wont feel upset about it. but i feel like you will always ask them if they know what you mean and then they'll admit that they don't! but i do see you laughing it off and telling them that they can admit if they don't get it. oh, they are really into structure and have really organised drawers, closets, shoe racks and so forth. you may find it cute how they keep it VERY organised and are serious about it too. you may find their concentrated face cute lol. they do portray this youthful energy so they might express those characteristics through their actions. they definitely don't like to argue and will let you win every single time which may feel frustrating sometimes but they just avoid it at all cost and feel there is no need for it. it can make you feel guilty about it though and make you want to take care of them. at the end of they day you laugh it off and find it cute. they may have trouble with their vision and may squint a lot- you can tend to make fun of them cutely for it. like, every minute of they day you see they squinting at EVERYTHING and that can catch you off guard and make you laugh by their cuteness. this is a very fun/ laughter couple so there is a lot of laughing and giggling involved.

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thank you dear soul for reading this!! it is greatly appreciated, and i hope you all are doing well and enjoyed this post🤍.

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grimm-writings · 28 days

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Hi there!

I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?

“stop licking the damn thing!”

…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks

…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794

…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy!

Laios

“Ooh, can I have a lick?”

His ass does NOT give a fuck.

You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.

Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.

He may not fully take in all the information you give him. This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.

Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it. Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.

Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”

Overall, Laios simply does not judge! He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!

(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)

Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand. Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you. You still for a second. Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you. You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour. He hums and tilts his head to you. “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position. “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…

Marcille

Sorry she is so judgemental.

You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.

Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.

She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.

Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”

She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes.

Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more. It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.

She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it. There’s a science behind it, after all…

Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself. Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?” She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too. You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be. You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger. “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it. You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that. “For… me?” She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks. As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact. “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine! I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm. Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.” You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.

Chilchuck

Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…

…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.

He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments. You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!

Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”

Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth. Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.

Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…

If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.

Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…

He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.

Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you. It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here. What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick. The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste. Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?” You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice. On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed. “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes. You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point. “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion. “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint. Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,” Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again. “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears. How embarrassing…

Senshi

Also winning the dgaf war I fear.

He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.

It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.

You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.

(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)

One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished! Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.

Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!

You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.

Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!

“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones. “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic. The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans. Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions! I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face. He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him. Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well… If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!

Izutsumi

“Why are you eating rocks? Looks gross.”

Make way for the #1 hater…

Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.

You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.

She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.

“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”

…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.

Jail for reader. Jail for 1000 years.

She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t… It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.

“Come on, Izu, just give it a try! I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!” She shoots back. You pause. “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be. Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice. You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste. She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water. She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you. What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you…

504 notes · View notes

krypticcafe · 9 months

Note

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

3K notes · View notes

project-sonadow · 4 months

Text

My [15M] rival [15/50M] has been weirdly aggressive towards me ever since he lost his memories for the second(?) time. Should I be worried about him trying to kill me again?

Summary

A post on r/relationship_advice by u/Chili_Dog1991

EDIT 1: Stop saying I'm Sonic I'm not.

EDIT 2: Okay I am Sonic. I don't see how that matters.

EDIT 3: Stop trying to figure out which of my rivals this is.

EDIT 4: Stop telling me to contact the police about his attempts to murder me or his age. It's complicated in regards to his age but he's essentially 15 and I can already defend myself way better than the police can in regards to his murder attempts. Also the police would probably try to arrest me too because they're either useless or make things actively worse.

EDIT 5: Stop DMing me to ask how murder attempts can be fun. I shouldn't have to explain this.

EDIT 6: Stop implying I'm a masochist.

EDIT 7: Stop implying I'm an adrenaline junkie. If I just wanted adrenaline I've got tons of other people who could give me that.

EDIT 8: To everyone who actually responded with advice, thank you. I attempted to talk to him about it, we fought again, and it turns out he's been acting aggressive because he doesn't know how to show affection so he just defaults to violence. We ended up holding hands after we physically couldn't fight anymore. It was a great night and I think we're together now.

EDIT 9: Which of you motherfuckers sent this to Tails.

ORIGINAL POST

Hi everyone, using a throwaway account to make this post because my little brother knows my main and the embarrassment would kill me if he ever saw this.

So for context, I've known this guy for a while now, at least in the context of my life. I've got a pretty hectic life and I'm a traveler, so I've met a lot of people and he's one of the few that's been able to keep up with me. Our first meeting was during a bit of a stressful time because he kind of inadvertently framed me for thievery (we look kinda alike and the police are stupid, it's not his fault but I was pretty pissed at the time) and got me arrested, so we ended up fighting about it in the middle of the street. I'm used to fighting and pretty good at it, so it was a surprise when he turned out to be basically my equal at it, which is pretty rare even among my other rivals. He got the upper hand on me for long enough that the police were able to arrest me again. I was pretty mad but also impressed. Our second meeting was even more stressful because I had just got out of jail after being arrested for the second time, and I was still angry about it so we fought again. I was about to win but then it turned out we were both in danger along with some friends of mine so we both left as fast as we could. Both of these times I could tell he was taking the fight seriously, but I could also tell he wasn't trying to KILL ME kill me. Y'know?

Anyway, in our next meeting he was definitely trying to kill me. Outright said it to my face. I won that fight thankfully, and I'm not even angry about it because a lot of people have tried to kill me over the years and also he has some kind of goal I was getting in the way of, and he didn't even succeed. He ended up changing his mind about that goal though, and when we next saw each other we were on the same side trying to deal with a mutual threat.

And it was at that point I kind of realized I was in love. I've never really wanted a relationship because I thought it would get in the way of my lifestyle, but with this guy specifically it wouldn't be a problem. I would have told him about it, but then I thought he died and I didn't see him for a while. I wasn't too broken up about it because we only knew each other for a couple days, but I was still sadder than I thought I would have been.

He ended up coming back to life though, and he had lost his memories for the second time in his life (long story I'm not gonna get into) and he didn't really remember me anymore. I know from a mutual friend of ours that he remembered me well enough to be annoyed by my name, which made me irrationally happy, and I think he did end up getting his memories back, but when we first saw each other he definitely didn't know who I was. We fought again, it was a tie, and then we ended up teaming up to take down a mutual enemy again.

Things have been a bit less chaotic since then. We've fought a couple more times but nothing serious, he's saved my life, I've saved his, you know how it goes. We haven't really talked about anything that happened, but that's fine because neither of us have ever been much for verbal communication and we understand each other just fine. I've tried getting over my crush on him, but that's never really worked because we see each other a lot due to our lifestyles and we have some mutual friends in common, and I like spending time with him anyways, even if we're just beating each other up most of the time.

Personality wise, he's basically my polar opposite, but we get on pretty well despite that. I think aside from my general attraction to danger and his ability to match me in a fight and a race that might be the main thing that draws me to him. I've got a lot of friends, but never one so different from me and yet so similar. He's just always been special to me.

But the main reason I'm making this post is because despite all we've been through, he still acts like we're enemies at worst and temporary allies at best. We fight almost every time we meet unless something less serious is going on, and he's pretty grumpy and mean to me all the time. I like this about him, but it does make me question if he even sees me as anything more than a rival, and I don't know how to ask him because we don't talk about weird emotional stuff. I also think that asking him directly could maybe lead to another murder attempt, which would be fun, but it's not what I'm looking for anymore. I don't mind all the fighting, but just once I'd like to kiss him on the mouth instead of punching his teeth in, y'know?

#sonadow #fanfiction #sth #sonic the hedgehog #project writes #long post

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

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Between Rivals - Kimi Räikkoönen

Request: hi I was hoping you could write something with kimi maybe? Fluff/slow burn whatever you choose. Like how they start dating. He makes the first move. Reader is also a driver with ferrari. They are similar behavior but maybe reader is little bit more open then he is.

Slight edit in request: Yeah that's fine but then maybe keep the reader in rb maybe? Cuz I want kimi and her to have more competition in terms of racing too. Also when u post the final fiction can u keep me anonymous?

Thanks!!

Obviously going to have to alter Red Bull's performance in 2007 since they weren't competitive. But I think I can manage it. Also to anyone that doesn't know Kimi is my favourite ever driver, like I'd pull him back kicking and screaming if I could. The Iceman literally has my heart.

Just for context I'm not giving a specific age, but an age range in mind for writing this, driver is out of her rookie year so we're going like 23-25 years old (Kimi is 27). You choose within that space (or don't up to you tbh). We're also going to feature the iconic Alonso-Hamilton teamwork.

When Red Bull announced they were bumping up the Toro Rosso rookie and only female driver on the grid to a Red Bull seat for 2007. People were pretty shocked to say the least.

She'd performed well in 2006 and got a couple good point finishes. But nobody expected to see the rookie be immediately pushed up into the more competitive team.

People have rioted about her quick promotion and progress into a seat they apparently feel other driver's are more deserving of.

Mark Webber hasn't been the warmest towards her either, because apparently he is a believer in the idea that she simply hasn't proven herself enough. And now she's got the like of rookie Lewis Hamilton who is in an amazing performing McLaren.

To avoid saying something that might reflect badly on her, she keeps quiet when the press conferences happen and often she's not even listening. Which is how she found herself being poked by a surprising person but the only one who seemed to be in reach to pull her back from her thoughts.

"They are asking you." Kimi states quietly seeming amused at the fact she'd ignored the journalist and then not even noticed when they repeated the question.

"Oh-OH, oh sorry. Could you say that again?" Y/n asks leaning into her mic while noticing Kimi laughing a little.

Y/n answers the boring question that honestly is just another attempt at tearing down her character, her abilities as a driver and if she believes she is capable of getting a podium. Since they have yet to see her stand up there, though she has made the top 5 a couple times and gathered decent points in accordance to Christian.

As the press conference is called to an end, the first group leave and y/n finds herself walking side by side with Kimi.

"I saw you laughing at me. Do I take that as a compliment or as an insult?" Y/n asks figuring that while it's unlikely a friendship with one of the most notoriously quiet and probably the hardest to befriend if he hasn't already decided he wants to befriend someone.

"Bwoah, they shouldn't ask questions they know we don't want to answer." Kimi shrugs while she sighs softly. "They always ask stupid questions."

Y/n nods then managing a very weak smile which seems to earn some sympathy.

"Don't let them get to you. You are the one driving on the track. Not them." Kimi states before Y/n's name is called making her smile weakly.

"Thank you." Y/n sighs earning a short nod before he watches her jog off to the Red Bull media team who called on her.

Y/n sighs cracking her knuckles as she sits in the car, getting buckled in as they all ready themselves for the race.

By some miracle and a badly timed rain storm in qualifying. Y/n has managed to get P2, only behind Kimi in P1.

"Radio check." Her race engineer states into her ear.

"Loud and clear." She confirms before shifting ever so slightly. Not that there's a lot of give now she's all seat belted in.

Y/n gets a pretty amazing start. But what she does expect is for the McLaren's to have an even better start then decide to sandwich in on her and close the door. Not only knocking her out but both of themselves too.

However it's her car that flips when it digs in the gravel, though thankfully being airborne it flips back the right way up.

"Ah fuck. Ah." Y/n pants undoing her seatbelt and tossing her steering wheel in a moment of rage, her radio unclipped before they can ask if she's ok and get an answer. Instead she's already out pulling off her helmet and balaclava to try and ease the ache of her lungs in having been winded.

It's only then she realises how far away she ended up from the other two cars.

The safety car is out as she is aided by the medical car that was immediately on the scene since it was only the first half of the first lap.

"I'm ok. I'm fine." She dismisses but they insist on checking her over in the medical car and driving her to the medical centre.

All three drivers find themselves in the medical centre, and both McLaren drivers find themselves turned away by her trainer when they attempt to apologise. Though she notes they both come to her separately with their apologies since it turns out she's got bruised ribs and a mild concussion from the impact.

Eventually she finds herself in the media pen and the journalists are practically jumping on each other to get to her.

"Y/n! How are you feeling? We've already spoken to Fernando and Lewis. They've admitted they were at fault and have regrets over the injury they caused to you."

"Y/n, you had a few drivers worried. Kimi Raikkonen asked about you a few times before they called for the red flag and then his trainer was spotted at the Red Bull wall talking to Christian."

Now that was news. And surprisingly news at that.

"All I can say is that right now I'm not in a place to accept apologies from either of the other drivers involved and I need to rewatch the incident from different angles to learn and figure out how to not get tangled in other teams pretty pathetic feuds." Y/n states without apology. "Thank you."

And like that she's gone. Her mind not exactly in the right place to be redirecting itself onto the Finnish Ferrari driver. But it drifts that way anyway.

"Was Kimi asking about me?" Y/n asks as she walks with her trainer who laughs a little handing her a water bottle.

"Yes. He was. A few times to my knowledge."

"Ok."

Y/n ends up in the debrief room with her half of the team reviewing things with her and talking her through how it was entirely beyond her control and if this were to happen again, she still could not avoid it.

"Hey, golden star. How are you feeling?" Christian asks making her sigh softly a little.

"Bruised ribs, mild concussion. But I'm fine." She states earning a frown. "I could've had this podium with the strategy."

"Don't dwell on it."

Easier said than done and Christian knows it.

Y/n didn't mean to make it her mission to track Kimi down before he left but she did manage to catch him and smile brightly as she walks alongside him.

"Oh no." Kimi murmurs while she grins at him.

"I heard you were quite worried about me."

"I saw you on the screen. It was a bad crash and they were idiots." Kimi states making her hum before she nods a little.

"That's true." Y/n smiles then sighing as she walks. "It was actually nice to hear that someone was concerned. I know drivers aren't really meant to be all that caring towards each other, but for you to send your trainer to the pit wall and ask. It's not very Kimi of you."

"Maybe you don't know me enough to say that." Kimi shrugs making her feel like she may have just completely insulted the Ferrari driver. "Would you like a ride to the hotel?"

Y/n blinks in shock almost retracting pure out of being caught off guard.

"That'd be great, yeah." Y/n nods, though she has her own car there. Really she probably shouldn't be driving with a concussion so getting a lift is definitely wise. "You know, I haven't eaten either. I could do with some company getting something to eat."

"Food sounds good."

And just like that, suddenly the two were arranging an unofficial date.

What y/n didn't expect was for the date to continue to her room and while they didn't have sex, Kimi ended up dancing his fingertips around the purple hued bruises.

Y/n felt a type of peace and comfort that was the last thing she expected as a form of ending her day.

Between races y/n and Kimi spent quite a bit of time together and had fell into a quick dynamic with each other in that by the next race weekend after a two weekend gap. Y/n is more than happy walking in with her hand linked to Kimi's.

It's pretty safe to say the rumours that were circulating after her race crash, have suddenly been confirmed. Despite not actually being true when the initial crash and pushing to know if y/n was ok occurred.

There's some messiness in at the free practices, and Q2 is cut short when Mark crashed on his flying lap. Making for a red flag.

But eventually she finds herself in P5 for the race start. Kimi is P3 in front of her.

She already had a chat with Christian, talks about the risk and what could happen as a result of her dating Kimi. But he has told her that if she wants to date him, technically he can't stop her. She was warned to not let her feelings effect her race pace or her moves on Kimi.

It's already something her and Kimi have agreed to never hold what happens on the track against each other. Though the exception would surely be if they were involved in something like in the last race.

After a radio check, it's just a waiting game to get on with the formation lap and the race. So when they've all refound their starting positions after the formation lap,

The strategy is right, and y/n manages to get herself in a podium position within the last 5 laps. She just has to fight off Mark behind her and possibly shoot for P2. But that means fighting Kimi.

And actually the battle between the three almost comes at a cost, but Mark gets team orders to stop fighting her in the last two laps to give her a chance at focusing on fighting Kimi since they have faith her in not caving in.

It's half way around the last lap she dive bombs him and finally takes the P2 and after that she's trying to rocket past him, foot to the floor and throttle down.

Crossing the line she's actually screaming, though no one can hear her since her radio isn't on and she's just completely beyond excited about it.

By the time she gets to parc ferme, the Red Bull team are cheering and hollering before she even gets to them but she's lifted off her feet by the mechanics chucking her around and yelling in victory. It's not a win, but it's the second best thing to a win and that's all they need.

"You are our golden star, y/n." Christian shouts making her beam before she pulls back and sees Kimi with Ferrari who are cheering and congratulating him before she moves over to him and despite his hatred of such public affection he does manage to scoop her up in a hug and hold her tightly.

"I thought I had you, you caught me off guard." Kimi states once their helmets are off and they're moving into he cool down room. Something that is a new experience for her.

"This is so cool." Y/n states making Felipe look at his teammate since the young woman is clearly too easily impressed by the cool down room.

Y/n smiles as she lifts her helmet to block the view of the camera and kisses Kimi before dropping it again and moving when they are called to get out on the podium while Kimi flushes slightly over the young woman's actions.

They get out with Kimi going first in his usual calm demeanour, then y/n comes bounding out waving he hands encouraging the Red Bull cheers before she stands up on the podium in a more behaved manner. Though the camera does capture a moment of Kimi smiling and admiring the young woman in her celebration.

After the anthem both Felipe and Kimi make the first podium for y/n special and completely soak her nearly using both their entire bottles as they leave her quite literally dripping in champagne and sort of blinded by the fizzy drink as she tries to wipe at her eyes.

They manage to guide her to take a mouthful of her own champagne before Kimi takes her hand and helps her move from the podium. Another moment the cameras are happy to capture.

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ennas-aesthetic · 6 months

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What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #this was such an insane meta post to make but i had to do it #putting my religious trauma to good use iktr #enna rambles

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