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your-enby-antihero · 4 months

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Aelwyn Abernant Might Go Blue Dragon(born) Hunting

———————————————————————— Summary: What if The Rat Grinders got revivified and Oisin had a crush on Adaine. Well more so what if Aelwyn knew all the shit he put Adaine through and she wanted to send a message.

Also available on Ao3

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Aelwyn Abernant, a woman reformed, hadn’t thought of murder in like two weeks. Which honestly was a super big deal for her, had she done a shit ton of extorting and taken like six people’s bones to try and find the one pirate in Leviathan that dies if you pull out their bones, well maybe. But who can blame her? It's how she was raised. But now she was starting to slip back into old habits.

The whole world was saved once again by her beautiful baby sister and the rest of The Bad Kids. Aguefort had come back and fixed all the weird shit that had happened, though the school was closed for the rest of the year so everyone just had to take the Last Stand to try to pass the year. But one of the many unfortunate things that happened, in Aelwyn’s opinion, was that those stupid Rat Grinders were revived. Adaine had said something about second chances and manipulation and corrupt adults and blah blah blah whatever. Something about them failing the year and doing remedial classes monitored by the Bad Kids to make it up or you know. Aelwyn knew all about villain reformation, being a reformed villain herself, but something about the Rat Grinders set her teeth on edge. Especially that waifish nerdy-looking Dragonborn, he was giving Adaine a look that Aelwyn found disturbing. Aelwyn was well aware of Adaine’s fleeting crush on the boy, though, after the whole Porter-Ankarna debacle, she was so very sure that the crush had faded. Even when Aelwyn tried to tease her about it Adaine looked absolutely disgusted.

“Why the fuck would I fancy some old money turncoat? He literally was just using any affection I had for him to end the fucking world. I’d punch that spoiled bitch in the face again just like I did with the dragons he sent to ruin Fabian’s birthday,” she spat.

It started over that summer, Adaine and some of the Bad Kids had taken to “tutoring” the Rat Grinders on how to adventure properly. Adaine had brought Oisin over to the tower in Mordred to discuss some sort of thing to do with Adaine’s mephits, the ‘Dry Guys’ if Aelwyn recalled correctly. Before she had left for work Aelwyn had made sure to bolster the Nemesis ward in Adaine’s room before she left. She would not be having that boy mess with her baby sister, not in a millenia. Aelwyn spent the next hours of her shift at the Compass Points feeling the arcana of the ward for anything amiss. Though she felt nothing that didn’t stop her from texting Zayn to peek in on Adaine and Oisin to see if he was pulling any funny business. She received a photo back from the ghostly fellow of Adaine looking down at a piece of parchment on the floor of their shared room, quill tip set between her teeth in concentration. Next to her was Oisin, who sat cross-legged with his face leaning up against his clawed hand gazing doe-eyed at her sister. God, Aelwyn could see that look that now followed Fabian whenever he talked about Mazey. She looked at the clock and decided that the library would just close early that day because she had a pest to scare.

As she walked through the door back into Mordred she was greeted by Sandra-Lynn and Jawbone before she stormed up to the tower, rocketing past Fig and Kristen who coincidentally were also spying on Adaine. As she walked through the door she did so calmly, years of repressing any feelings other than jealousy and pettiness really did give her a good resting bitch face.

“Adaine, I see you have a guest over,” she smiled, though the glare she was giving Oisin was anything but subtle.

Adaine of course shot her a dirty look as Oisin’s scaled face blushed purple, “Aelwyn I thought you were working late tonight. I didn’t expect you to be back so early with Ayda not being there to run it today?”

“Adaine you’re so funny, dear sister. Now let me have a look at this spellcraft, you know I’ve always been so good with these things.”

Aelwyn sat down with the two, purposely placing herself in between the teens. Adaine had taken it in stride, literally nothing about the interaction changed for her. Aelwyn truly just joined in on their spell crafting, she could tell Adaine was grateful for the extra set of eyes. However, Oisin was notably more shut off. He really kind of just ignored Aelwyn, trying to lean in toward Adaine when he was asking questions about Adaine’s rune work. The night went well otherwise, she had successfully defended her sister from the boy clearly all moony eyed over her.

As Adaine sees Oisin out the door Fig and Kristen both leap at Aelwyn in the halls.

“So what happened in there Aelwyn, why did you come home early? What. Did. He. Do.”

She is bombarded with all the possible questions and observations that Fig and Kristen had made and in return dishes out all that she noticed back. She hadn’t remembered the last time someone had fancied Adaine but Kristen and Fig did. Apparently, the last person was that freak Biz Gilitterdew. Aelwyn shuttered in disgust and mentally noted to take a trip down to Hell to kill the tiny little pipsqueak basement scum for trying to put the moves in her sister even when they hated each other and she was evil at the time. She also got the download about all the history with Oisin that Adaine had conveniently left out when Aelwyn had pressed to know about the boy her sister fancied. So to say that Aelwyn was contemplating hunting Dragonborn for fun wasn’t a lie. From what she got from Fig and Kristen was that Oisin had used the cover of being a love-struck idiot (or maybe he was a love-struck idiot) to lead Adaine on so that he could plan a bunch of arcane whatever to make Seacaster Manor go airborne. Then after he had supposedly tried to cover for his friend for being assholes and then killed one of his party members he had said that she ‘must not be a very good oracle’ because she didn’t forecast that there was going to be a storm at Fabian’s birthday. Now that was something that Aelwyn could not forgive, not only was she the only one who was allowed to tease her sister about oracle things but he wasn’t allowed to say those exact words to Adaine, especially about storms and oceans. Aelwyn knew what Adaine saw in the Nightmare King’s forest and she knew that anything about the previous oracle and storms haunted her sister.

Adaine soon made her way back up to where the little cabal of the girls of Mordred Manor had been gossiping. She yelled indignantly and threw a book at Fig when she started teasing. Aelwyn could tell from the look on her sister’s face and her voice, no hot flush or any enamoured quiver in her voice, that she really had gotten over Oisin completely and that this was all just in the name of sister bonding.

“Kristen was the one who said we should try to fix the Rat Grinders, I’m just doing this so that they won’t join another teacher’s weird cult,” Adaine shouted indignantly.

â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€” â€”

It had been many weeks since Oisin had started to come over for tutoring, of course, the ever patient Adaine Abernant was gracious to the fool even while he was literally (to Aelwyn) staring at her like a lost puppy. Aelwyn made a habit of always crashing their little study sessions. Sometimes it was a text to Adaine telling her to get away so that she could gossip and other times it was Aelwyn straight up just coming home early.

Every time Oisin gave her a smile that she could tell was laced with the ‘you ruined my life’ vibes, not that he’ll ever be able to pull off that smile like Penelope Everpetal. He was always polite but always insisted that he and Adaine were fine on their own.

“I’m sure you have so much stuff to do, me and Adaine have got this one.”

“Oh I’m sure my sister has everything under control but you seem to be lacking- I mean look at your rune for conjure elementals. This linework- here let me.”

Most of their interactions were passive-aggressive at best and outright venomous at best, Aelwyn had offered to see Oisin out one night, and Adaine had to take care of business relating to Gilear and some cursed object he had found at a yard sale.

“Sorry Oisin, good work today! By next time I’m sure your party is going to be fine during the Last Stand,” Adaine shouted as Fig was literally pulling her out the door.

The room was silent, just Aelwyn perched on her bottom bunk holding Boggy in her hands. Oisin got up and started to pack his things, heading for the door. As he did, clawed hand on the doorknob to leave. With a click, Aelywn pushed the door closed with a mage hand.

“Hakinvar, you and I have something to discuss.”

Aelwyn didn’t look up, her eyes glowed as did the runes she had lovingly, carefully painted onto the floor. Oisin didn’t move, frozen in fear as he let out slow fearful breaths.

Aelwyn set Boggy down, scritching under what she assumed was the frog orb’s chin, and motioned for Oisin to move away from the door. He did. Stiff as only a body once caught by rigour mortis could. He faced Aelwyn, just slightly taller than her due to his ancestry.

“I can see you getting all ensorcelled by our dear oracle but as her older evil sister, I will have to intervene. You know the last guy who messed with her had his fingers shot off by her little rouge friend. I heard that Gorgug cleaved your ass into two. They brought you back because they are good moral people. Had it been up to me, well I’m sure you know I worked with Kalvaxus and The Nightmare King so I’m sure such a capable wizard like you could figure it out. I know what you’ve said to her, what you’ve done to her, and I’ll have you know that I can be very tricky if you cross me.”

She draws her fingers along the ground tracing the nemesis ward with a manicured hand.

“You are aware of what this ward means, yes?”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Oisin finally replied.

Aelwyn smiled, “Good then I’m sure you’ll be far more careful in future when it comes to that blabbering mouth,” she allowed the glow to cease, picking up Boggy as she rose.

Oisin practically bolted out of the room, nodding as he collected his gear. Aelwyn nuzzled the perfect familiar as she followed. Good, always good for people to know their place.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #written before e20 #adaine abernant #oisin hakinvar #aelwyn abernant

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anim-ttrpgs · 5 months

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"All our projects" so there's other ANIM projects in production? anything you're able to talk about?

Yes, we plan to have a long-running career in the TTRPG space, and have several backburnered!

I’m just gonna rapid-fire these off the top of my head. We don’t know exactly which one of these is coming after Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released, because it is actually our patreon subscribers that vote on that.

Mastadon(title pending)

Yes, this is intentionally misspelled though we might change that in the future in case it hinders search results and stuff. This is a world where dark fantasy and 90s retro-futurism collide, literally. Think of knights with machine guns, space marines with enchanted swords, high-calibre rounds leaving dents in mythril breastplates, and men-at-arms on cybernetic horses. In the distant future of 2016, a scientific experiment on a lunar research station opened a portal to another world. At the same time, in a dimension of sorcery and feudalism, a council of wizards opened a portal to another world, and explorers from each land found themselves in the same mysterious place.

Cultures and technologies have clashed and mixed in these mysterious lands since. The PCs are mercenaries, taking odd, usually violent, jobs to get by.

Gameplay-wise it’s largely a combat-focused dungeon crawler emulating retro-FPS combat in TTRPG form, with an emphasis on making every type of gun feel totally unique by tying them to entirely different dice mechanics, which in turn makes warriors using these guns strategize entirely differently.

Bone Grinder

Bone Grinder is a “dumber” game, but still with an emphasis on combat. It has a notably more punk and metal aesthetic. Imagine a rocker with a mohawk and leather jacket killing a demon with an axe guitar that is also actually an axe. One of the core mechanics is that players will “bone” the game master by “throwing the bones” at them, which means literally trying to hit them with dice. A successful hit will add a bonus to whatever dice roll comes up when the thrown die lands. When it is the monsters’ turns, the game master will throw that same die right back at them. So if you throw a D6, that’s a D6 attack coming back at your PC next turn. If you throw a D20, that’s a D20 attack coming back at your character next right, so you better make it count, better kill ‘em in one shot!

(We recommend using plastic dice for this one, no metal dice!)

Death Bed

This is another working title, and it is a very serious attempt to emulate Dark Souls and Dark Souls style combat in a turn-based TTRPG in response to the abysmal Dark Souls: The Role-Playing Game that was just a lazy D&D5e book.

This game will be a bit more OSR-y, with D20 roll-under mechanics like old-school D&D for skill checks, and very simple attack determinants. It will have an emphasis on predicting enemy movement, stamina management, and choice between blocking or dodging attacks. It will also feature a system whereby the PCs are not permanently dead after being killed, but do “hollow” after each death. There are several stages of hollowing, each with downsides and upsides. Fully alive PCs will be more nimble, alert, and powerful, but stand out more to mindless hollow enemies, drawing more aggro. More hollowed PCs will have stat debuffs, but hollows are less likely to attack other hollows, giving them less aggro priority. Of course, if a PC dies too many times without restoring their life force, they will become a mindless hollow themselves, becoming an enemy that the party must slay if they want to recover that PC’s equipment.

Untitled Mushroom Game

A working title of course. This game takes a lot of inspiration from the earlier Paper Mario games, and like Bone Grinder, it will have actual physical things you can do with the dice to gain bonuses to your characters’ attacks, which is meant to emulate the “action commands” from Paper Mario in TTRPG format. One example would be building a larger dice pool for an attack based on how many D6s you can stack into a tower before they fall down, with the tower falling down constituting the rolling of the dice.

Eureka Adventure Modules Vol. 2

(Vol. 1 is the set of adventure modules that are coming with the Kickstarter.) Eureka fully releasing won’t mean we’re done with it. We plan to support all of our games for as long a time as possible with new adventure modules and other supplements. (But expect the other supplements to be very cheap if not outright free. We don’t want to make Eureka a game where you have to buy 15 $50 books just to have the full experience.) This will be a set of 5, 10, maybe more pre-written adventure modules for use with Eureka. For a few teasers, one of our ideas features the PCs getting stranded in the Mojave desert, one of them features the PCs getting trapped in underground drainage tunnels with a mysterious creature stalking them, and more horrifying mysteries.

The Eureka Mobster Manual

Another working title, but it’s pretty catchy. This will act as a “monster manual” for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, featuring prémisse stats and GMing advice mundane NPCs like cops, mafia enforcers, hapless bystanders, etc. and also actual monsters, both human and inhuman. One of the monsters I am most excited about introducing is actual demons. Not just some red guy with horns, in fact they’re likely to be completely invisible. I know this term gets thrown around a lot by people who don’t know what it means, but in Eureka demons will be more “biblically accurate.” Think more The Exorcist and less DOOM. A demon doesn’t want to go “blahrarawa!” and kill you, a demon wants to gradually talk you into killing yourself. This also may feature additional playable monsters, such as the gorgon and dullahan(Kickstarter stretch goals for the main rulebook that I don’t think we’re going to meet unfortunately), plus others if we can come up with more.

Overdose

A working title again. This will be a large collection of “drag-and-drop” tactical combat encounters for Eureka, for when a GM needs a fleshed out and challenging final showdown between the PCs and the bad guy goons. These will feature plenty of cover, alternate routes, and “woo roll elements”(stuff that can get knocked over, exploded, destroyed, etc. by stray bullets, thereby changing the environment in exciting and unexpected ways.). All of this is so that the GM doesn’t have to come up with all the complexities of a good Eureka combat encounter on the fly.

That’s about all I can think of right now. After Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released and the dust is settled, we will hold a vote with out patreon subscribers to find out what the fans most want us to work on next.

However, all of these things that I have mentioned are in a very raw state of completion, or even just in the idea stage. If you want to see all these projects, and more, release in the coming years, then RPG-making needs to be a long-term viable career for us. I, personally, am disabled and have a very hard time finding regular, sustainable work at “real jobs,” so this is especially important for my financial future. It’s about the only (marketable) skill I’m good at, and it’s something I enjoy doing, so I’m making this push now for my future.

The best way you can make this a viable long-term career for us is to support the Eureka Kickstarter (only 24-hours left at the time of posting this), buy our games, and subscribe to our Patreon.

The more successful the Kickstarter is, not only does more art and stuff get added to the Eureka rulebook and adventure modules, but the more buzz it generates, and the more buzz it generates the more journalistic support and more financial support we get. Even if it’s just for charity purposes to help me pay future bills when I can’t hold a normal job, pledging $10 is enough to get your name in the Eureka rulebook, and if you can’t give anything, we totally understand—we’d rather you put food on your table than go broke supporting our dreams. If you can share the Kickstarter to discord servers and the like in the last 24 hours of its crowdfunding window, or just share news of the game with people after the Kickstarter closes, that is a huge huge help on its own.

We, and especially I, am thankful beyond my ability to express in words for how much support the Kickstarter has already gotten, and the patreon subscribers whose support paid for all of our advertising budget to get Eureka as well-known as it is. This is a project of extremely professional scope and calibre, and I’m proud to say that we probably shouldn’t have been able to pull it off with as small a team as we are, we’re just that talented and persistent, but no matter how talented or persistent we are, it is the fans and supporters that make it possible for us to pursue a creative career. Thank you all.

24 hours left on the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Kickstarter, crowdfunding closes at 2:00 PM CST on Friday, May 10th! That’s mid-day tomorrow! Please support it while you still can! If you’re reading this after the Kickstarter has closed, you can support us through ko-fi or patreon, and if you’re a $5 subscriber or more to our patreon, you will get regular PDFs of increasingly finished beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and its adventure modules as we continue to work on finishing it using the Kickstarter money.

You can also help us by checking out our merchandise!

If you just want to play, you don’t have to pay. You can get a beta PDF of the Eureka rulebook plus character sheets and adventure modules FOR FREE from our website or itch.io page.

Join our TTRPG Book Club We nominate, vote on, and split into groups (based on schedule compatibility) differnt indie games, then discuss, just like a book club! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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sprachgefuehle · 3 months

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So recently tumblr has been telling me that this blog is now 6 years old and that's a good moment to say that I really don't what to do with it.

When I made it back in 2018, I was studying several languages at university and tumblr had a vibrant linguistics community that I wanted to join. Lingblr is now technically dead and I haven't really studied languages in years. My academic focus has shifted significantly and my target languages have become languages that I use in my day to day life.

To be honest, I haven't even thought of myself as a student in quite some time now either. This time of my life is over and I only feel resentment and anger towards this capitalist meat grinder called academia that I used to love so much. Not because I didn't succeed in it but because I saw this institution eat up people I love and I don't wanna go down the same path.

I was ok just reblogging stuff here based on vibes though, because I care about this blog. Not because of any follower count or whatever but because of the people I met. Some are now some very, very dear friends but I also had countless other small interactions that I loved. Even if we never really talked, some people here have been following me for years and it would be weird not to see their urls anymore on the regular. Some people even told me that this blog was important to them when they were learning german and that honestly still feels crazy to me in a good way.

But this is also exactly the reason why I am making this post now. I never intended to be a "german" blog but somehow ended up in this role. And that was okay for me. But the election results for the eu parliament is just the final nail in the coffin. NSU, Hanau, Halle, police violence organised in far right networks, "remigration" plans, refugees who are dying at european borders... It's too much. I don't want to be thought of as "the German blog" anymore. I don't want to feel like I promote "germaness", even if it is not an outright right wing nationalist variant but the cutesy upper middle class erasmus cultural exchange one. And I don't care about that anymore either. I haven't for some time, to be honest.

Because Western society is still deeply racist, imperialist and colonial to its core and it's getting to my bones. Because nationalism is killing people, people like my friends. Because nationalism is putting them in danger, is putting me in danger. Not only because of who I am but because of my work as well which puts a target on my back for helping vulnerable people.

I don't know. This is me rambling. I am just just tired and angry and hurt from the daily reality. I am not deleting this blog though. To be honest, I don't know what to do actually. I am just very, very tired and needed to write down my thoughts.

#I feel like shit since sunday #but those are also thoughts that have been brewing for some time now

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capcavan · 10 months

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If Riko hadn't been killed off, but he still had his broken arm, how do you feel his recovery and road (if possible) back onto the playing field would have been? How would Tetsuji have reacted to it?

Boy this really went in a direction as I wrote it

Considering the rules of aftg universe [Kevin whose hand been through meat grinder but could use it after few months without any physical therapy and being held together by duct tape ] Riko shouldn't have any issue healing from clean spot breaking of 2 bones in arm. Add to that the fact that Riko got professional care right after the breaking and as resident of cult i mean Nest he will have access to all resources needed to make safe and successful recovery. So depending if we want to use aftg law or real life law i think his recovery is possible it's just difference of ,, will he play in 2 months or in 6 months" With good diet and listening to his doctor, recovery and coming back to health won't be issue and assuming Tetsuji would not pit him against ravens and allow him to train with a coach he wouldn't loose more than 3-4 months [during which he can still do cardio and train other muscle groups, improve his footwork as well as study exy from more technical standpoint, research read books watch old games and THINK i think he would easily went back to play with his team in second half of the next season in games and bit earlier in trainings. But being separated form them for so long to allow for his healing and injury care would put a big rift between him and his team. They would be resentful and not at all sympathetic ravens are competitive Riko is star but he is also their captain, and i assume while Riko is decommissioned someone else took that position- temporarily as Riko would hope. But what if the Second Captain turned out to be better? What if ravens decided the new guy deserves their respect more than Riko does? I think Tetsuji would not extend his protection to Riko any more, Rikos little outburst on the court was embarrassing and illegal There would be no way for Riko to play exy after attack on another player, in best case scenario Moriyamas might keep him out of prison but I don't think any of them would care, I think Riko's most likely future is being murdered in prison depending if anyone who hates the family is behind the same bars.

#riko moriyama #aftg #all for the game

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 2 months

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Just Like Magic pt 2

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader

Words: 5,492

An oddity or an omen?

Tags: Witch!reader, optimistic/cheery reader, female reader, httyd 1, unedited

Hiccup sighed, breath pressing out from dry lips, feeling generally blazing as if he himself were just as fiery as the hearth before him, all mortar and brick pasted together, covered in its own dust and pebble. It had been fed to oblivion, just as raging with the need to eat and burn as it was bright.

His thumb ached in a dull, bone-strained way, fighting against the grip of a two-looped metal handle. His fingers were nearly numb, slightly buzzing even as he worked, everything in them taut, and yet Hiccup could feel vaguely as they twitched with the thought to release.

The stretch of all of his fingers, running the flat part of his thumb against one of the callouses along his pointer finger- It was a habit which, as of late, he had taken up with unfortunate vigor- or maybe it was something old, another thing that had come to him while evading his notice.

The smithy was heady with the smell of smoke and melted, burning metal. It was the kind of air that had his head light, and yet it brought him closer to his work, filling his mind with nothing but heavy, deep focus.

It was not so much of a fog in the sense that he was visibly impaired, for there were no clearly visible grays, even with the soot so thick in his throat it could have been mistaken for water- no, to his mind, the tables and tools placed around him were ambiguous. Unreal. They didn’t exist to him- not the leather of the wrapped handle beneath his palms, uneven and worn, thin enough for the blunt ends of dry fingers to scratch against carpal, nor the working movement of his arm, pressing in a way that strained.

Nothing apart of Hiccup nor around him existed beyond what they could do for him, unimportant. Discarded.

It was a feeling that brought him to other places and yet rooted him here, like the twisting, hard legs of a tree, thick and old, his arms not his but the muscles of twice as many men as there were generations who’d lived on Berk- strong men, leathered men, mighty men and warriors. The old and crafty, the thick-skinned and head-thickened.

With his eyes focused on nothing but orange light and darkness, though he could not at all feel the latter, it was almost enough to bring his mind away from- from the dragon.

By the morning, he would have left it for a day and one cooling night.

Hiccup had only woken, scrounged up his own meal and had barely anything in his stomach by the time his father declared that he would be sent into the arena.

All of his vigor- his passion- his readiness for battle- it was all gone. He’d never been prepared. He was no man, too much of a coward to take charge of his own adulthood and to enter into the next era with force as his forebears had done.

The pounding of hot metal -which hadn’t at all registered to his ears before- was suddenly too loud.

With a sudden jerk, Hiccup stopped.

With a grimace, he maneuvered his prongs so that he could vaguely examine his work, looking with the fruitless eyes of a teen whose momentary passion for his practice was waning, his heart twinging with apprehension as his focus was replaced with the feeling of ‘giving up.’

There was always work to be done after a raid; busywork, chores, many other things. The last task was always smithing; Making new. Forging modish pieces for those who’d lost them.

Hiccup tilted his head to the side slightly as darker flakes formed over the longest stretches of his work- it was naught but one knife of two, which, when it came to the actual smithing, would usually not require anymore but a mold for metal and heavy sharpening on the grinder.

What would usually be either cut short and filed into a point by the stem, or made into a handle and a ball at the end, so leather might wrap around it securer was instead stretched and bent upwards so that the hot metal could form its own grip as if it was one half of a shear with a hold just the same as the prong Hiccup used to carry it.

He preferred it- there was less artistry in it. After forging, Hiccup would rather do carpentry over any other sort of work with either paint or finer, golder alloys, and yet this way of handle-crafting was simpler. It would certainly be most pleasant for Hiccup to get his work done as fast as possible. Gobber would scold him for his laziness later.

Gobber would whack him over the head for a lot of things and let him free to do twice as many others.

Gobber had wandered off sometime in the afternoon -rag of a smock included- so he was probably done until the morn, though the smoke in the forge, the need to chide and the threat of Hiccup’s own complaining might lure him back soon enough.

Hiccup wouldn’t give him any more fuel for worry- he kept the forge counter shutters open this time, which should keep him happy enough.

He felt one singular line of sweat run down his face, tickling down the skin of his cheek and then sweeping under the line of his jaw as he exhaled.

He was unsure when he had placed down his hammer and yet he didn’t care much at all, exhaling as a large waft of cooler night air pressed against his back.

The forge doors were usually only opened during a raid and while both Hiccup and Gobber were smithing- to keep the Cough from setting in, or some such similar thing.

Hiccup huffed and rolled his eyes. Usually there was enough space between the cracks to allow in air while being wide enough to block out most rain and hail- they had better ventilation than any place else on Berk.

He liked it better than the Chief’s hut for that very reason- though it was comfortably warm during the winter months, in the summer it was unbearable.

No smoke hole meant that they had to open all the doors whenever they roasted anything inside, and they were too far away to steal away any real smoke, so his space by the roof was smoggy in the nights, which left him unable to sleep, tossing and turning ‘till morning.

There was definitely not enough to air the feeling of misery out from the space in his loft, nor the smell of the fish he’d left rotting in his bed, which he discarded at the last moment, feeling too ill to eat anything but slightly moldy bread.

It was in a bucket now by the door, which was as hygienic as he could have bothered to be about it in the moment.

The smell had probably been trapped there for hours- it was inescapable by the time Hiccup had bothered to make off the same way the forge’s heat sometimes made the overwhelming stench of Gobber’s lost dirty socks worse- nearly as terrible as they were unfindable, no matter how hard Hiccup looked.

He was mystified as to the reason his father hadn’t brought up the smell. He would have gotten rid of it sooner, though regardless, eventually it would be just another thing for his father to scold him about and he had been feeling particularly moody.

With a tired shake of his head and the deep hunch of his shoulders, Hiccup turned, flinging the piece and the prongs across the nearly gray surface of a long bench with a sudden, tumultuous awnry.

Hiccup had to resist the urge to run a hand through his hair and throw his smock sternly to the ground, wincing as he heard metal make sharp contact with stone.

The piece would pay for his negligence later, yet he found it hard to care.

Loosening his shoulders again, opening his eyes, clenching his fists and flexing his wrists, Hiccup stilled.

He willed that the feeling pricking up and down his back went away, adjusting his sweat cooled tunic. It felt obscenely thin then, thin and blowing with the evening breeze, what was once nice making his back feel naked and exposed.

He adjusted his collar, walking past a worked anvil and grabbing hold of a very thin bucket handle, intending to cradle the bottom of the bucket as its weight shifted with the thick sound of sloshing water.

He wasn’t able to get a solid grip before hot metal met flesh.

He cursed. Immediately startled, Hiccup dropped the bucket, causing it to crash and roll over the uneven stone floor, clattering violently.

“Just my luck,” Hiccup said dryly. He always had the worst of it.

Hiccup cursed as he shook boiling water off the bottoms of his shoes, hopping ungainly from one to the other- he could already feel his soles sticking to the ground, pulling with what sounded more like a wet hiss than a pop, as day-old residue -forest sap, dragon’s blood and animal mess- melted back into a sticky paste.

He always dropped the bucket. It was just as much of a certainty as anything else was in here- stepping in it, on it, stubbing his toe or grabbing orange metal.

He huffed, quickly wiping his heated palms against his smock. It was more of a habit than anything, something he’d never been able to shake off. His hands had long since ceased to feel the heat of fire after one too many burns and the growth of thicker skin.

As he settled and the wiping of his hands slowed, eventually coming to a full stop, his wrists falling limply to his sides, he realized that some water had managed to make its way into the furnace anyhow. It hadn’t tempered the flames one bit, though it did smother a great deal of the embers floating out from its face, the space inside the kiln now more red-washed than lit by bright white fire.

A full bucket would have done nothing to put out the fire, anyways.

The rest of it he’d deal with later. He’d- he needed the light still and he still felt too petty and hurt to pick the bucket back up, one side of it still glowing slightly red.

He had enough mind to stand straight and to kick it to the side with the edge of his boot, grimacing as fur clung to sweaty ankles. The fur lining of his shoe often did him more hel than help in the forge.

His boots were too bulky- sweltering on the worst days and oppressive during the best. He’d grown up in boots like these, wide and too easy to trip over. At least that’s what Gobber said- that very last bit, anyhow.

Sometimes he wondered if he’d be less clumsy if he got rid of them.

Eager to turn his hands away from the mess and to shake off the thickness in his hands, Hiccup cracked his knuckles with a grunt, stepping forwards and placing both of his palm on the sides of the table, the one before the two open window doors, glowering down at a piece of his earlier work with another ball of budding frustration.

It was a knife that had been ready for mounting on a thick, small piece of wood. It stuck out of the table, ready to be carved into a handle. Unfortunately, by no hand but Hiccup’s own, it had been bent wickedly to the side.

It now stood horizontal to the table with the block only half on the end, crushed bark scattered everywhere.

Hiccup- well, he’d messed it up pretty bad. He should have known better -he should have known himself- and yet he still messed it up.

He’d wanted to be a Viking and he’d messed that up, too.

Everyone -Astrid especially- probably thought he was a loser and a compulsive liar, which… He was. He wasn’t exactly packing on the muscle, that wasn’t too hard to see, and he didn’t exactly do a great job of covering that up. Brushing it off? Yes, but that was all feigned bravado.

If he hadn't found the dragon he’d still have known he’d shot it down, but what did that matter? He thought he’d shot many other dragons down and yet he'd been proven wrong enough for his word not to count.

A great job of ‘proving himself’ he’d done- and he couldn’t even shake the thought of the dragon from his mind, feeling bad for it. He did this.

The heat of the fire, smothered though it was, emanated in such a way that Hiccup felt as if there was a blanket at his back, sweltering and oppressive.

Leaning even further against his arms, which were half bent, too far apart to put any real weight on, he furrowed his brows and let out another annoyed exhale.

The metal was too bent out of shape to fix, not that he would’ve been able to fix it up anyways, all lighter and looking slightly ripped in the one way metal never should. If he hammered it now, it’d probably bend in the wrong direction, and he’d have to wrestle with it to get it back.

Maybe he’d made the blade too thin- sanded it down too much, melted stuff off when he wasn’t looking. Even if he was able to hammer it back into the vertical direction, it would have been obviously twisted and lumpy at the bending point. He’d be risking damaging another part of the blade, too. He could try and reheat it, but he’d have to pull it off the log, and that… Reforging would still weaken the integrity of the blade. He could fix the outside imperfections and yet without completely redoing it, the inside would still be messed up.

A good warrior didn’t use knives for dragon fighting, though if it came down to it, and it probably would, it’d definitely fold against dragon hide.

“Great,” Hiccup stepped back, letting one arm loose and running a hand down the side of his face. “Wonderful.”

He loathed being there more than he ever had.

Hiccup resisted the urge to look back and glare at his room- the back room reserved for him with his sketches pasted and hammered onto the wall, with rods and sanded wooden panels laying all over. It seemed no matter where he looked he couldn’t help but to be reminded of all the messes he’d made.

If he just decided not to listen to his Dad, what with training and all, what were the chances of him being dragged into the arena anyways?

“Who are you?”

Hiccup’s shoulders jumped in that sudden-stiff way, looking upwards with a slightly astonished blink, wondering where in the world that voice had come from, “Me?”

Hiccup spent a short while just blinking and staring, not really looking before he even processed anything.

Slowly, he turned to his side.

You were a lot closer to the counter than he’d have been in the right mind to process, a girl around his age with dangling baubles at the ends of your sleeves, palms pressed into the wooden counter before the two of you. They were nothing he could stare at too long without being impolite, though that never stopped him.

If he was going to be honest, he’d never seen you before, either.

“Who else?” You asked, your eyes darting to the side for just a moment.

At first glance, to him, you seemed somewhat unassuming, unaware of the fact that you’d just snuck up on him, though he couldn’t have imagined that was easy to miss, so you must have been being polite. Sneaking up on him wouldn’t have been difficult, on purpose or not, especially considering how occupied he’d been.

Hiccup’s eyes darted from side to side, slightly embarrassed at having been caught in such a foul mood.

The sky above was gray and blue, though mostly gray. It was an environment suited to his agonies.

Hiccup wasn’t surprised. For some odd reason, all of his poorest days were terrible, no-good mud-in-boots sort of days, and since all of his days were poor, most of his days ended up being abhorrently rainy. There was something meaningful in that, he supposed- if by ‘meaning’ he meant ‘inescapable misery.’

Though the sea more than likely contributed to its solidity, there was a wind brushing in so chilling it could be naught but the kind that appeared just before a long rain with the both lively and sorrowful smell of burgeoning sky-water permeating the air.

There was not a single soul around besides the two of you, which was both a mercy for him, a balm to his hurt sensibilities, and quite peculiar.

The stones embedded into the clearings around and the dilapidated feel to the clan homes stationed by the font of the forge meant that the world had never felt less real, all unfeeling object.

Your liveliness gave you a certain strength- a power that deemed you one of the many things Gobber might have tried and failed to charm away with his superstitious rituals and baubles, symbols written in sheep’s blood across thresholds and along wooden doorframe.

The brushing of your clothes lit a feeling in him which whistled past the eerie hollow in his gut, a sense that told him to shrink back and close the window shutters. It screamed at him, all chilled and sharp, though it didn’t say, ‘no.’

‘Temptation,’ It screeched instead. ‘The wrong way.’

“I’m...” He spoke slowly, brows raised, wondering if he was speaking with a devil. He’d done a lot of speaking with devils recently. “You really don’t know?”

Hiccup didn’t know everyone and yet it was just his luck that everyone knew him, by face if not painfully long name.

The clan houses belonged to Berk’s most prized warriors which meant that, in times of trouble, and as a reward to those with privilege, they were the ones with the easiest access to the smithy and therefore the weapons supply. That was not to say, though, that the smithy did not receive patrons of all sorts- farmers for the sharpening of scythes and the repairing of a loose bolt in their bull’s harness, fishermen for a new casing for their compass- if they hadn’t seen him, which was rare, because Hiccup didn’t care to keep track of many people at all, he’d have at least seen them.

He hadn’t heard of anyone new coming their way- he expected no notable imports, and yet even then, on Berk, any traveler was big news. For all it was worth, it would have been made into a event.

Even if someone new did appear, his father might have ordered them shot down before their ship even reached the docks with all their battle ready warriors sent off into the fog.

There was hardly anything defensible left. Anything manageable went off to war; long travel boats were armed and fortified in less than a day. Anything that was not war-ready was repurposed for the sake of fishing. Even most of their catapults had gone with.

“Oh, I don’t spend so much time in town.” You must have read the silent question in his eyes, “But I was born here. …And raised.”

Your response seemed practiced, as if maybe you’d been asked this question a few times before, which wouldn’t have surprised Hiccup.

By some stroke of fate, you didn’t know him, which meant you’d never seen him before. Which meant- well, he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, though the disgruntled churning in his middle told him that it was probably bad, which was in and of itself spectacular.

With his eyes, he could see nothing but a girl his age asking about a bent knife, yet… In that moment, he felt reckless in that free, strung-out, apathetic way. At this point, he was willing to sell his chance at the afterlife for scraps.

“...Raids?” Hiccup asked touchily.

“Never in town for the raids. Always in the forest,” You blinked at him, “I’m not interested in warring.”

“Not interested in warring?”

…Odd.

“War is interesting,” You said amicably. “But I like other things more.”

Very odd.

“Hiccup.” Hiccup grimaced, listening to the sound of his own feet shifting against stone as he moved his weight from one foot to the other. He spoke before you could even think to ask the question, “-My name. ...I work in the forge.”

You hummed, eyes glancing to the side as you considered something. Hiccup wasn’t sure if that meant that you recognized him or not.

“Why’d you come in today?” Hiccup asked, slightly put off. He sounded, should he say it, a tad irritated, mostly at being intruded on. He had the right to be.

“Felt like it,” You smiled, before pausing for just a moment. “You seem troubled.”

Hiccup considered you suspiciously still before he grimaced and nodded, shifting his shoulders as he leaned back down at the bench again.

Any other day and he might have been glad for the attention. But now…?

“Knife,” Hiccup said curtly, furrowing his brows, examining another long scratch by one side of the blade. Definitely too thin. Maybe he’d accidentally mixed something else in with the iron. He spoke with nearly a grumble, “I thought I could fix it, but…”

“Really?”

“The bend on the nail,” Hiccup looked at you wearily, “It’s a soft point- I’ve been messing with it too much.”

“That’s too bad.”

“It’s fine- I’ll probably need to get a new one, anyways- I’ll have to melt this one down…” Hiccup shook his head slightly, frustrated, “Scrap metal. I don’t even know if it’s usable.”

“I’ve never seen anyone do this before,” You smiled, placing your palms against wood and peering over the counter slightly, staring at him intently in a way that made him slightly uneasy.

What, smack a knife with a hammer?

Hiccup leaned back a tad and then some more as you rested on your elbows.

“Could you try again so I can see?”

It was his turn to ask, “Really?” though even before you could speak again, he’d moved some, “Another feeling, then?”

He reached backwards with a hesitant hand towards the edge of a bench to his back left, all cluttered as most things in the forge were, especially then, grasping with weak and weary fingers for anything.

You nodded, beaming, “Yes.”

His fingers touched something, cool from what Hiccup knew instinctively was disuse. It was also… crusted. Was it rust or was it food residue?

One was fixable and the other… It would require a lot of work. He needed to stop eating in the forge.

“It’s just going to-...” Hiccup trailed off, staring at you for a long moment, then glancing back at his hand, pulling his boon out in front of him.

It was another set of prongs, one with a squarer end, better for clamping down on the smaller rods. It was no hammer, but it had a thick, blunt end.

It was crusted by the handle by some white-blueish-flaked something, which could have been mold, though it was otherwise unscratched, which meant that it was new, even if it was covered in soot. He hadn’t used it in a while- it might not have even been his.

Hiccup grimaced, weighing it in his hand with a bounce before deciding better of it and setting it aside with the hollow sound of metal meeting wood.

Even if it was blunt, it wouldn’t throw weight properly, which would make for a pathetic blow, and if it landed wrong, it would damage both the setting of the two prongs and the bit keeping it all together. Even a novice could tell he was hitting the blade half-heartedly- faking it, not that he cared at all for his own fakeness.

The moment he pulled his eyes away from you, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn’t keep them away for long.

“I’m sure it won’t give you trouble,” You insisted, leaning over the counter slightly, resting the weight off your full upper half on its surface in a way that looked quite childish.

Maybe you really were just a girl. A girl his age though, so maybe a bit too old to ogle at knives, but… Well, Hiccup would be a hypocrite if he decided to dish out any judgment.

He took a few steps back into the darkness of the forge, though he kept his eye on you, certain this time he knew where his hammer was, grabbing for it with the same unsure hand as before, missing and somehow conveniently managing to not step in the bucket in the process.

Though he usually had the foresight to kick the bucket aside, he really half expected to step into it as he stumbled back.

Hiccup tried not to look so uneasy as he grabbed for his hammer again- he missed it, of course, his surprise nearly causing him to fall back anyways. He made an effort to compensate by nearly jumping forward and then spent the moment after grimacing at his own failure to try to make it look as if he’d always meant to do that.

His hand slapped against the ring of stone around the kiln’s base before he was able to grab his hammer, the handle still warm from the furnace’s heat and his own hand’s accumulated warmth. He stepped forwards again with both more confidence and a face that was stiff with his efforts to keep it slack.

He was still staring at you when he did it, tapping the knife’s bent handle lightly- half-heartedly, and hoped to the Gods that that would be a good enough show for you.

Hiccup refused to look down as he did it. This would be the first time he did his best to ward off any girl’s attention. He did say he’d be fine with any girlfriend, though he didn’t think he’d try his luck with this mystery girl, preferring the idea that he might rather be left alone to his dragon and his near-paranoid frustration.

Still staring into your eyes, his focus and apprehension was so strong that he felt nearly hypnotized, though he didn’t stare at any place in particular on your face.

He was startled when his hammer came down again and met solid wood, not necessarily because he didn’t expect it, but because his arm had hardly bent, its impact landing closer to him than to where it had been bent before, causing his shoulders to jump.

Looking down and blinking slowly, his eyes met a perfectly straight extrusion from the wooden countertop, flat metal and secured wood.

Hiccup picked up the knife by the handle. He’d had to jerk against the countertop table with half his weight, the muscles in his upper and lower arms tensing briefly before it’d dislodged somewhat violently, causing him to take an uneasy step back.

Settling, he rested his still-closed fist with the handle against the countertop, ogling at the knife’s blade.

He was astonished as he noticed that the bend was gone with no soft bits or twisted, torn metal. If it bent with just a light tap, it couldn’t be sound- he was surely hitting it at the wrong angle, too.

He adjusted it in his hands so he was holding the wood piece closer to the blade, and with an unsteady but effective enough grip, tested it by pressing the flat side of it against wood, putting as much force as he could behind it, slightly weary of the fact that if the blade slipped and snapped it would surely launch and cut him in the face or on the arm, perhaps.

He felt no give at all. He heard no cracking or any creaking struggle.

There was a thump as he placed it back onto the table and turned the wood branch piece to the side, pushing it with his palm then grabbing onto the handle with fingers only just enough to touch the edge of the table on one side, curling around the wood’s thick base.

He pressed his finger to the sharp part of the blade and felt the flat of his middle finger run down it, dippling along its jagged edge, skin there too thick to be cut.

He heard nothing but the wind as he looked up, the motion slow, at where you had been standing in silence the whole time.

You then smiled at him ambiguously.

“Seems like it wanted to be righted.” You said slyly, as if you found yourself to be completely normal. Hiccup had the inkling that you weren’t just talking about the knife. “Can’t always do things with force. You need a gentler hand. Like… a crook. A sheep’s guide.”

Hiccup blinked at you deliriously, squinting suddenly as harsh light hit his eyes.

While he had been occupied, things had seemed to get lighter. Happier, yellower.

The sky no longer smelt as if it was about to rain, which Hiccup would have typically brushed off as a symptom of his smoke-slogged nostrils if not for the fact that the grass outside seemed greener where it had previously looked absent, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the sky seemed to be no longer darkening.

He squinted with the sudden forcefulness of the change, eyes darting from side to side.

Hiccup didn’t believe in magic or witches or even Gods most of the time, and yet- “What…”

As he watched you, his spare palm rested against the table, flat, feeling at tiny scratches and a long groove in its surface. He didn’t take it in so much as know they were there- Some of the scratches were ones he’d made, many he’d experienced, a mixed chronological biography of both his life and anyone else who’d been at the counter the past ten years.

Without looking, he pressed one finger deeper into the groove, knowing that he would have to repair it somehow, despite all the various, nearly-identical nicks and grooves all over the forge.

“You need to listen- the wind tells more than anyone else is kind enough to hear.” You hummed pleasantly again, “I hope whatever calls you finds you well.”

When he’d finally thought to look back at you, you’d already left, the only thing visible to him being your back and sunlight.

This was the first time he’d ever met anyone weirder than him.

“What was that?” Hiccup asked, not sure he hadn’t imagined it -and you- at all. He blinked tiredly, his astonishment lifting his brows even as his lids threatened to fall.

A witch for sure. Or…

Hiccup blinked groggily as the light of the first morning hit his eyes. Had he worked through the night? He was sure it’d just been…

He scrubbed at the backs of his ears wearily, feeling greasy hairs split between his fingers.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Gobber with his smock still on, stumbling quickly down from the direction which led to both Hiccup’s house and the Great hall. He was just visible past what he could see over your shoulder, long, muddled green grass parting before him and all at once the illusion was broken, the eerie feeling of being alone lost just as it usually was the moment anyone became truly aware of the fact that they were not alone.

Hiccup had no idea where he’d been this past night- drunk at the hall, maybe. Celebrating what could be the traveling warriors’ lasts, as always.

Hiccup sighed deeply. The knife was unbent, and yet his troubles remained. At least now he could be miserable in the sun instead- until soon, when his father would be sent off.

He’d still have to be there when that happened- should be about now, actually, while the air was still cool. Hiccup… He might miss it this time. But his father… He should be there. In case he didn’t come back whole.

There would be the night to follow after that to languish in his woes, and then… dragon training.

Even with his dread, he couldn’t miss it.

Even with his failure to kill the dragon, Hiccup felt the strain of expectation on his heart -the eyes of his father, the weight of an axe in his hand- and he heard the small part of him that was still eager. Still… Anticipatory.

After a few long, torturous moments, in which he struggled to undo the knot by his back, Hiccup really did throw his smock down this time, leaving the forge and the knife abandoned as he began to unwillingly, quickly make way down to the docks.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #hiccup x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #toothless

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hannahbarberra162 · 3 months

Text

Country Mouse, City Mouse Chapter 9

Shanks is like a cat- the more you try to keep him away, the more he wants to be with you. Mihawk should have figured that out by now.

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Red Haired Fool

You were eating lunch outside with Mihawk, Perona and Zoro, basking in the early afternoon sun. Mihawk had made some excellent paella, which you couldn’t get enough of. You were enjoying the food and company, when all of a sudden Mihawk sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s goin’ on lamb? You feelin’ OK?”

“Yes, I feel fine. The fool is approaching the island.”

“The fool?”

“Red Haired Shanks is who he means.” Perona supplied helpfully. “He comes by sometimes with his smelly ship and smelly crew,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “Though Benn is cute,” she mused with a finger on her chin.

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what the protocol was for guests who seemed to have a poor reception. Mihawk seemed annoyed, not excited. You thought Red Haired Shanks was one of the Emperors, but you never really paid attention to pirate matters. You’d roll with whatever happened.

“Benn Beckman is old enough to be your father, Perona.” Mihawk said like he was chewing a lemon.

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s cute,” Perona said with a shrug.

Zoro was acting even more reserved than usual, which was saying a lot for the swordsman. Whatever he had going on, Shanks’s arrival didn’t seem to be helping. You better keep an eye on the rubbing alcohol, you thought dryly. Well, how much trouble could a few pirates cause?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famous last words, you thought to yourself. After lunch, you returned to work. It was harvesting time, and you were gathering beans in a bushel basket. You heard the rustling of leaves, and looked up to see a rotund man reaching for a groundberry.

“Hey! What you think you’re doin’?! How rude! Just stealin’ my produce?”

“Best looking groundberries I’ve seen! I wanted to try ‘em,” said the man apologetically. He was eating a large hank of meat right off the bone.

“Well you can’t. It’s not for you. Are you Shanks?” He was wearing a bandana, so you couldn’t see the color of his hair. The man laughed.

“Ha! Never heard that before! No, I’m Lucky Roux.” He continued eating and inched his hand back towards the berries.

“You’re gonna be unlucky if you touch them berries,” you said flatly, gesturing with a trowel from your pocket.

“Yeah! Show some respect!” said another voice. Joining in the conversation was a tall man with red hair and only one arm. This was likely “the red fool,” as Mihawk called him.

“Leave the lady’s fruit alone, Lucky. She’s working hard!” The red haired man beamed at you. Another handsome pirate, you thought. Are all pirates so good looking? Or just Mihawk and all his acquaintances? You put the bushel down and dusted your hands off.

“I’m Y/N, I’m a farm hand here,” you said, extending your hand.

“I am Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, one of the four Emperors of the seas,” he said with a flourish, bringing your hand to his mouth. You pulled it back.

“That’s nice, hun. You’re steppin’ on my row of grinder beans. Either help or leave.”

Mihawk POV

You had Shanks’s crew working in a more organized fashion than he’d ever seen them. Even Beckman was reluctantly picking gourds. Shanks would occasionally wander off, trying to get out of working, but you always roped him back in. This was likely the most he’d ever worked in his life, Mihawk thought to himself. You were engaging them in conversation while overseeing their work, and they seemed to be in high spirits. He supposed he should make an appearance, though he was enjoying watching you command them about. He walked up behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. You craned your neck up to look at him.

“Oh hi, honeysuckle. I met Shanks. He’s over yonder, tryin’ to get out of workin’!” you yelled the last part towards the slacking captain, who was sitting in the chair you had made for Mihawk.

“I only have one arm! It’s hard!” the Emperor whined.

“You can drink well enough with one arm, can’t ya? So you can work too. C’mon now!” His crew laughed. Mihawk did not. He was displeased that Shanks was sitting in his chair. Shanks saw Mihawk, grinned, and waved. Why must everyone tempt him to violence?

“Mihawk! I met your lovely lady! Why have you been hiding her?”

“I have not been hiding her. She has a profession that requires daily work, which is something you may be unfamiliar with. Why are you on my island?”

“Can’t an old friend stop by to say hello?”

“No.”

“Aww, Mihawk, you wound me.”

“I shall, if you do not get out of my chair.”

Shanks looked down at the chair and pouted. “But this chair is great! It’s comfortable and spacious. It’s like it was built exactly for my height! Has a great beach vibe, too.”

“Yes, it has many redeeming qualities. The primary of which is that it is mine. Vacate it immediately.” He was using the same tone he issued challenges with.

Shanks shrugged and stood up. “Well, I think we deserve a reward after working so hard. What do you say boys? Time for a party?” The men cheered, finished up the last of what they were doing, and started to amble towards the shore. You looked confused. “It’s 3 in the afternoon,” you said with a questioning glance at Mihawk.

“The fool’s drinking is not bound by time. Come, Y/N, I will help you finish the tasks.”

Shanks gave Mihawk a pointed look but didn’t say anything as he meandered away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, you had accepted an invitation to come to Shanks’s party on the beach. Naturally, Mihawk attended as well. It was an informal affair, with the Red Haired pirates drinking alcoholic swill by a fire. You and Mihawk were enjoying an excellent full bodied wine, which he was unwilling to share with the Captain. The conversation flowed easily in the group, which did not surprise him given how friendly and fascinating you were. Shanks in particular was interested in your stories, your history, and your life. Mihawk pulled you closer to his side.

“So, what are you going to do now that the season is almost over?” Shanks asked you. You swirled the wine in your glass in thought.

“Not sure yet. I’ll see where the tide takes me,” you said lightly.

“Do you want to come aboard the Red Force? You could sail with us for a while,” Shanks said with a grin.

Mihawk was aghast and answered before you could. “The very nature of her profession excludes extended time spent sea faring. Besides, if she were to engage in piracy, I doubt it would be on your ship.” Mihawk couldn’t help his acidic tone - he could not bear the thought of you aboard the fool’s ship. Shanks laughed, and said “Relax, Hawkeyes. Didn’t know you were in love. I’ll leave your woman alone.” You blushed lightly when Shanks called you “his woman.”

Despite his irritating nature, Shanks had said a few sobering thoughts. He had mentioned the nearing end of the growing season, and the thought was disturbing. He had put off thinking about it, not wanting to conceptualize that you would be leaving, and soon. Downing the rest of his wine, Mihawk turned his thoughts inward as he watched you easily entrance his undesired guests.

#mihawk x reader #mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op x y/n #sunshine x grumpy #grumpy x sunshine #red haired shanks #farming adventures with mihawk #mentioned perona #op mihawk

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fluffypotatey · 1 year

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hey u know how mk only calls wukong by his title and never his name? and how wukong rarely if ever calls mk "mk," instead usually opting for "kid" or "bud?" and how both of those things are kind of representative of their relationship and how both of them care about each other a lot but they aren't honest with each other or with themselves about the other and how neither of them really wants to confront the fact that the other is a person with flaws and struggles? haha yeah <- normal <- lying about being normal

be glad i have been released from class now :) [narrator: she would later find herself late to her 2nd class while writing this]

so happy you have given me this excuse to talk about— i mean, yes! it is super normal to be thinking about this all the time and be comsumed by it and let me explain why:

i will start by going off on a tangent about names and labels and their narratove importance in stories because i love them and have a problem. (idk the word count here. viewer discretion is advized. i just wrote. it is long. beware)

In the Case of Names: a Sunburst Duo Essay

by Yours Truly <3

In the Case of Names in LMK: a Summary (please for the love of pete be a summary)

Ok, so, let me give y'all a quick overview (i failed. this is you're only warning. i failed, and this became a monster of an essay. run while you still have the chan—) of names in the literary sense. When studying novels and books and shit in your literature classes, you will notice that your professor might discuss the importance or ill-importance of characters' names in the story. For example: in the classic novel Fahrenheit 451, the protagonist's name is fucking Guy Montage to illustrate how he's just some fucking guy, a John Doe, a man stuck and complicit in the dystopian world.

You get me? No? Sorry, you want more examples? Fine then :3 let me introduce you to a story called Hard Times by Charles Dickens. It is an allegorical novel that criticized the utilitarian movement going on in dear old Great Britain in the 19th century thanks to the Industrial Revolution. Some fun characters were Johannes Bounderby and Thomas Gradgrind. Tell me, what images did you imagine when I gave you those names? Did you think of a bouncing ball for Bounderby? Were you imagining something square or maybe a mechanical grinder for Mr. Gradgrind?

Remarkable isn't it. The way choosing a name has on a reader/audience's perception of the character. Names are not just placeholders for a character. Names are the identity of that character. Names can establish their starting arc or their ending. Names can be visual in the sense that they invoke a strong idea of what a character might resemble or what themes they will present the audience with. Removing a character's name also removes their identity.

Remember that.

Anyway, I have talked enough about names in the general literary sense. Let us move on to LMK.

Given that this show is based off of Journey to the West (JTTW), many of the names of the antagonist are already provided, and their English translation is pretty literal (Demon Bull King, Lady Bone Demon, Red Son) with some exceptions (Jing & Yin, the Gold and Silver Demons), but their names all provide a description of what they are and how they should be viewed. Spider Queen is a spider demon and views herself as queen. Pretty solid characterization there. Lady Bone Demon, she's a bone demon and has enough rank to be considered a lady (or that could just be to ID that she is a woman but eh). Princess Iron Fan: she's a celestial princess and wields an iron fan. Got it? Good. These examples are simply here to show that a majority of the JTTW antagonists are still fulfilling their roles as antagonistic characters. What I mean is this: since "A Hero is Born," MK has been fighting against the Monkey King's old enemies from the JTTW book. It's like the moment MK inserted himself into the role of successor, the antagonist themselves were inserted to redo their old role of fighting the "Monkey King." It's almost as if nothing has changed beside the fact that their new op enemy is a "human" wielding the legendary staff.

[hmmmm, wait i actually never put this into words until now and it's fitting very well with the whole "MK's fight against Fate/the Narrative" but we'll just put a pin in that.]

However, when it comes to MK's friends (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei), they all share different names from their reincarnated/ancestral counterparts (Zhu Bajie, Tang Sangzang (they just give Tripitaka a last name lol), Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie). Their identity is separate, distinctive from who they are meant to reflect to the audience. (But look at how Tang still shares the same 1st name to the blessed monk, see how he's the one whose powers are the most similar, see how he being pulled into the direction of emulating the monk, see how much Tang fights it, see—)

Fascinating huh? But let us move on before I forget myself.

In the Case of MK's Names: a Paragraph (DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT GO OFF THE RAILS)

So, in the English version, there is a running gag about how MK's "real" name is long and complicated, and we don't actually know it. All we know is that MK switched it long before the pilot. And even before MK has that talk with Master Subodhi in s4ep7 (or 6? 8?), I would chuckle at how on the nose his name was. MK the Monkie Kid... how silly of the show writers....ahaha, what a funny little decision to make :)

Do we know why MK changed his name? Other than his original one being long, no. Do we know why MK specifically? We don't know. Maybe, in his fanboy brain for all things Monkey King, MK thought it would be cool to have a name that identified close to his idol. A name that identified with someone he wished to emulate and be as powerful as and felt so connected to. But what do I know? I am a mere local gal who feeds off of metas and theories and all things relating to my beloved sunburst duo.

Then, we have MK's many titles: Monkie Kid (IDs him as the new generations Monkey), Successor (IDs him as the one who will succeed Sun Wukong in both the title of Monkey King and power), Noodle Boy (pronounced "New-dle Boi and IDs as the boy who works in his surrogate/adopted dad's noodle shop), Delivery Boy (his actual job for the noodle shop), and last but not least, Harbinger of Chaos.

What makes a harbinger? What is chaos? What are their intentions? Are they good? Bad? Neutral?

So, I've already defined harbinger before and many others have as well, but to sum up: a harbinger is a being/person/thing that announced the coming of something be it good or bad but most of the time the focus is bad. A "Harbinger of Chaos" then, would be the one to announce the coming of Chaos™️ and the disruption of world order. Is this a bad thing? Well, the show presents it at the moment as so, but that doesn't mean it will be. Honestly, the show has shown order and fixed structures more in a bad light and promotes free will and choosing a destiny that fits you as the good thing 👀 (another thing to pin in the MK might to go war with Fate)

But now I have established MK's names and must shut up and move on before I no longer can.

In the Case of Sun Wukong's Names: some Paragraphs (STAY ON TARGET PLEASE)

I will admit that my knowledge of names in China is very low, and by low, I mean I know nothing (most of what I do know comes from asking friends and informational sites). So, let me begin this segment with an excerpt of Sun Wukong gaining his name from the book itself :) and break it down with my interpretation and how that is applied to LMK.

When the Patriarch heard this, he was secretly pleased, and said, “Well, evidently you have been created by Heaven and Earth. Get up and show me how you walk.” Snapping erect, the Monkey King scurried around a couple of times. The Patriarch laughed and said, “Though your features are not the most attractive, you do resemble a pignolia-eating monkey (husun). This gives me the idea of taking a surname for you from your appearance. I intended to call you by the name Hu. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what’s left is a compound made up of the two characters, gu and yue. Gu means aged and yue means female, but an aged female cannot reproduce. Therefore, it is better to give you the surname of Sun. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what we have left is the compound of zi and xi. Zi means a boy and xi means a baby, and that name exactly accords with the fundamental Doctrine of the Baby Boy. So your surname will be ‘Sun.’” When the Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight. “Splendid! Splendid!” he cried, kowtowing, “At last I know my surname. May the master be even more gracious! Since I have received the surname, let me be given also a personal name..." ..."You will hence be given the religious name ‘Wake-to-the-Void’ (wukong). All right?” “Splendid! Splendid!” said the Monkey King, laughing. “Henceforth I shall be called Sun Wukong.”

What a fucking cutie <3

So, what can we gather from this excerpt? Sun Wukong just gained his official name. No longer is he a monkey with descriptive titles, no longer is he a monkey without a surname to be referred to as and respected for. He now has both a surname and a personal name. And while I don't fully understand everything Master Subodi listed when naming Sun Wukong, it is important to note the importance of it and how happy Wukong is to receiving it.

Before this, the book would simply refer to Wukong as Shihou (stone monkey) or the Handsome Monkey King. Both of these are descriptive titles that just inform you what Wukong is rather than who, just like with the other demons met in JTTW. But now, we get to know him as Sun Wukong, someone more than his titles and such. There's even an explanation in the preface how Wukong's own personal name has significant meaning or relation to Buddhism, but I won't get too much into that since my knowledge is of that is 0 and I want to try and stick to LMK.

Now then, let us examine Wukong's name in the LMK sense. Literally everyone in the show call him either Monkey King or "simian" (and if he really pissed them off, Sun Wukong). The only people to refer to Wukong by his personal name is Nezha, Macaque, and Peng. It is literally just these three. And while we could argue all say it like "Wukong (derogatory)," I believe Peng's the only one who means it. Meaning, I think Macaque says Wukong because he was the closest friend of SWK, thus that's the only name Macaque would ever call him (sure, he said Monkey King and shit in s1 but that was when he was duping MK soooooooo). Nezha calls him Wukong because after the whole Havoc in Heaven and journey stuff, he is the new oldest member to befriend Wukong and not be enemies with him (yes, he will get annoyed and aggravated by him, and he will not always believe Wukong's intentions are great, but he still cares and is his 2nd closests living friend).

Peng, on the other hand, does not give a shit. I fully believe that guy never cared for Wukong. They only joined the brotherhood because of Azure (they even offered for Azure to be the brotherhood's leader). I do not think Peng cares for formalities when it comes to people they dislike. We could argue that maybe Peng cared for Wukong in the beginning, but I do, honestly, not believe it. The only reason Peng even felt betrayed was because it messed up Azure's plan. Not because the two were sworn brothers.

But yeah, very few characters actually call Sun Wukong by his name, and when they do, it establishes not just how close they are/were, but also how long they've known each other. It's the same thing with how Wukong refers to others. He barely calls Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy by their names. He will give people nicknames and shit just to place a safe distance from them because of his own very unhealthy attachment issues.

In the Case of MK and SWK's Names for Each Other: the Actual Sunburst Duo Essay (you are free now.....)

Speaking of attachment issues, let's talk about the Sunburst Duo and how much these two need to sit down and talk.

So, we have discussed how names are integral to identifying a character's purpose, thematic journey, description. We have discussed how a person's title can clue in on certain characterization, present or future, and how they demonstrate the way others view them. Now let us apply this to our beloved sunburst duo.

As mentioned in your ask, @gumy-shark, both MK and Sun Wukong barely call each other by name (MK never has as far as I am aware, and SWK has done so only a few). It's "Monkey King" from MK and "kid," "bud," "buddy" from SWK. Rarely do the two ever think to say each other's name.

In the beginning, I originally thought MK only calls Wukong "Monkey King" as a way to be respectful, and with Wukong, I assumed he called MK "kid" simply because MK was very young to him. However, as we get into s3, and especially s4, MK and Wukong have grown a lot closer. Neither of them see each other as just a mentor or student but as friends. And yet, they cannot seem to stop calling each other by their title or nickname.

Thus, the distance is still there. S3 ends with Wukong promising to do better as a mentor and be more honest with MK, and we do seem him attempt this. He gives out more praises, he's more open about his feelings and then gets sucked into the memory scroll. But here's the kicker: the two are doing a reverse in their dynamic.

When it starts out, it is Monkey King who establishes the line between the two. He will simply be MK's mentor and teach him all the kid has to know in order to succeed him. MK is ecstatic to even be near SWK. This is his idol, the guy he's had a special interest in for years probably. He now gets to train under the Monkey King. He wants to do good. He wants to kickass. He wants to be just like him.

But as the story goes on, we see SWK open up to MK more and care for him deeply and want to protect him, and we see MK uncover the skeletons in SWK's closet and feel so alone and learn that the power he used to wish for is not what he expected. And in the aftermath of s3, it is now SWK who is opening up and trying to help kindle and safely guide their friendship in a healthier path(ish). It is SWK who is placing his own protege on a pedestal because "loook at him! isn't he so great and powerful! he will help this world a lot more than i did". It is SWK who is disregarding th original rules he placed. But now ,it is MK who is keeping the distance more than SWK. It is MK is trying to force some kind of distance. He feels like he shouldn't burden SWK with his doubts and worries. He is terrified of his own powers and their capabilities and worries his actions will make the same mistake as his mentor.

With s3 and s4, SWK has called MK by name quite a few times. Especially in s4. It's not a lot, but it's definitely more than before. And yet, MK cannot call Wukong by name. Personally, I think he might still feel like he's under Wukong's shadow. As his successor, there is a legacy that he will carry when Wukong actually retires and gives his title to MK (which is what I assume Wukong will do??? It is still unclear what exactly MK's succeeding SWK of). And that legacy is quite the burden. I would not be surprised that MK is unable to place himself as being worthy of taking Wukong's place just yet (if ever).

This guy was his idol for a long time. And with that, you tend to place a high pedestal for those people. MK has given Wukong such a high pedestal, and Wukong is very aware of it. It's why the guy even keeps his distance in the first place, and why he's scared to disappoint him. But, MK has learned so much, has been told of the tales and pain his mentor inflicted on others in the past (a past SWK greatly regrets), and yet cannot find it in himself to lower that pedestal or even allow himself to think about it. Because if he does, then he will have to acknowledge his own pain and his own disappointment in someone he not only admires but has come to love like family. And it is very hard to reckon with the hurt and pain caused by someone you consider family.

So yeah, they are silly monkeys who cannot communicate to save their life and need to just sit down and talk or else this will continue to boil and explode and we'll have a SWK and MK showdown (fuck yeah! i will be crying so hard).

[end of essay]

#was late to my next class because of this #got lost in the sauce that my friend had to text me for me to remember i have CLASS #sigh #hope you enjoyed my scholarly account on names and how they pertain to the sunburst duo #also barely anyone even refers to Tripitaka by name #it's always 'the monk this' or 'the monk that' he only gets called by name if someone is being very formal about it #LITERALLY TRIPITAKA ISN'T EVEN CALLED TRIPITAKA AND IDK WHY #WHY ARE YOU HOLDING OUT LMK EXPLAIN #EXPLAIN YOURSELF #WHY IS TANG'S ANCESTOR BARELY REFERRED TO BY NAME #anyway #there you go #hope you're happy #i used all my brain energy for this #this took me 2 hours to write in total #and that was simply because i chose not to include screencaps from the show itself out of self restraint #lmk #lmk analysis #lmk sunburst duo #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #qi xiaotian #sunburst duo #asks #read more #long post

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sweetheartmotives · 11 months

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Yandere Magical Girl ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Desc and possible Cw: Yandere themes, bone breaking, Ripping off someone's head and putting it on a pole, obsession, and mentions of murder towards a date of yours.

Let me know if I missed any!

(Lucky Star Opening)

It was a normal Monday afternoon, you were on your way to class. You attend a rather fancy college, whether you're rich and got in that way or you got in for good grades.. It doesn't really matter at the end of the day. She's dotted on you and you can't do anything about it.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… became your friend by "accidentally" forgetting her pencil.

Tap tap! "Excuse me.. could I borrow a pencil?" She asks

• Yandere Magical Girl who… slowly but surely made her way into your life. Going from a simple acquaintance to a best friend.

"It's funny to think about sometimes, 2 months ago we were just two girls who sat next to each other. Now we're best friends!" Yumako chuckles. You were having lunch together, in the school courtyard.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… roots herself into your life, permanently. She's always around, and it's to the point where it feels strange whenever she's not by your side.

"Sorry! I was sick yesterday, it must've been miserable here without me!" Yumako jokes while grinning "Seriously though, let's eat together during lunch!" She smiles

• Yandere Magical Girl who… enjoys spending as much time with you as possible. Studying? Count her in! Even if it's boring, if she's by your side, she doesn't care.

"Oh? Studying? Let's do it together!" Yumako smiles

• Yandere Magical Girl who… secretly fights in the nighttime. During the daytime, she's your best friend who's always by you! During the nighttime, she's wearing a cutesy outfit you'd see in animes, specifically a magical girl anime.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… has a new purpose to fight. She doesn't fight for the purpose of saving the world anymore, she's fighting for the purpose of you and her having a world to live on so you both can get married and grow old together.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… likes to drive away your dates. She'll be touchy-feely and come with you to dates, therefore making your date uncomfortable. You're hers, she's fighting for YOU, You are her everything.

"A date??" Yumako gasps dramatically "With who? Where? When? Why? How?" She's asking so many questions "Let me come with! It'll be fun, I don't mind third-wheeling!" She smiles... it's a lie though. She hates third-wheeling. But it's okay, in the end, your date will be so uncomfortable that they'll leave and ghost you!

• Yandere Magical Girl who… would kill your dates. Oh, they tried getting you to do something you are uncomfortable with? Bone breaking time!! Skull crushing!! Meat grinder!!

"That's terrible (reader).. I'm so sorry they did that. Its okay, you'll probably never see them again!" Yumako says knowing damn well she killed your date the night before

• Yandere Magical Girl who… fights monsters and other evil entities all the time.. yet, if you were ever threatened or found out by one of her enemies, she would personally brutally murder her enemy. She will hang their head on top of a very tall pole.

"How do you know about (reader)? That's funny.. GOODNIGHT" The enemy's head is found severed from their body and stuck onto a pole.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… sounds like Mitsuri Kanroji! She's very soft spoken and sweet.

• Yandere Magical Girl who… brings you gifts all the time! Sweets, trinkets, plushes, etc.

"Here, I got this for you!" Yumako hands you a Kirby plushie "It got it since it was cute and sweet, just like you!"

• Yandere Magical Girl who… after a few weeks of thinking and planning.. decides to pull the ultimate move of all time. Even if you reject her..

• Yandere Magical Girl who… finally confesses.

"I love you (reader).. I always have. The love I hold for you is like no other! My love is pure and sweet, not lust-driven and deprived. (Reader) please accept me as your one and only, for all of time."

• Yandere Magical Girl who… in the end, would do anything for you. Destroy the world? You got it! Discover an alien species? On it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Welcome to the end credits! This is Yumako's new and improved fic! I hated how I wrote her other one and it made me so angry. I couldn't even read my own fic! It was so confusing! (𖦹ᯅ𖦹)

I hope you enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing! (>ᴗ•) !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenario #yandere scenarios #yandere magical girl #x female reader #x female y/n #fem!yan #x fem!reader #female yandere

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ceilingfan5 · 9 months

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15 "Denim jacket with bleach-painted bone motif" & 11 "If they don’t smile at me today I’m going to eat an entire drum set" and taakitz 👀

“If he doesn’t smile at me today, I’m going to eat an entire drum set,” Taako rants, throwing his apron on the counter. He didn’t intend to get on this topic, and now the words won’t stop coming out of his mouth like a busted gumball machine shooting gumballs and quarters all over the floor. Watch out for some Looney Toons ass shenanigans, word listeners, because here comes a mess. “Like what the fuck? He’s too pretty to be allowed to live. He makes me want to hop in a peanut grinder and become Taako butter and live a better life between two slices of discount sliced bread, you know?”

“With jelly, or like-?” Ren grins at him, wiping down the counters, far too thorough. Taako’s got places to be.

“Obviously with jelly, Ren, what the fuck do you take me for?” Taako grumps.

“Could be honey,” she shrugs pointedly, still looking very pleased with herself. “Maybe you two can become a sandwich together and ride off into a toaster sunset. Maybe you just need to say, hey, honey-”

“And just declare my intentions so boldly?” Taako puts a dramatic hand to his chest, scandalized as loudly as possible. “You can’t do this to me in the workplace, I’m calling HR.”

“Noooo, not again!” she giggles. “Seriously, though, Taako. If he’s cool enough to play in your band, and wear that sick jacket-”

“It’s got bleach-painted bones,” Taako moans, sliding down the counter and onto the floor. She daintly steps over him, and he briefly considers tugging on her apron strings. “And he plays the drums. And the bass guitar. And I think the cello?” Taako mimes playing a flute. “You know the one.”

“Yup,” Ren says, looking down at him as seriously as she can manage. “That one.”

“And the guys–I can’t tell them. I shouldn’t even be telling you. No offense. I’m mysterious and private and I’m, I’m going to die alone, and,” he tips his head back, misjudges the distance, and hits the cabinet doors with a too-solid thunk that makes him yearn for the good old days, before stupid fucking phylum Chordata got any wise bone ideas.

Now, wise bone ideas, he possesses a few. He snickers at his own head joke, and Ren gives him a generous half-smile. He sighs.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he slides further onto the floor. She keeps cleaning, bless her. “I worry I’m not- I mean, obviously I am cool enough, natch,”

“Natch,” she repeats, not looking at him. He wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek while she can’t see. He’s trained her so well.

“But what if we’re different flavors of cool and he isn’t into Taako butter? What if he’s, I dunno, fuckin- sriracha, or, or, or,” Taako gestures emptily. “Cubed cheese you have to get at an art exhibition.”

“You’re as cool as cubed cheese, Taako.” Ren sighs, giving up and half-laying on the counter.

“I know that,” Taako snaps, warmed in the soul or something stupid like that.

“And he’s a nerd who plays in a band and wants you to like his sick jacket. Just go, hey, sick jacket, and he’ll be like oh my god thank you for noticing, everybody thought I was too cool to come say hey sick jacket and I’ve been vibrating myself to pieces wanting to tell everybody the fine details of the bleach painting process, did you know that human bones are whack-ass shapes? Ulnas don’t look right. Ever.”

“Yeah, what is up with those guys, anyway?” Taako has to rotate his arm this way and that a couple of times, chewing her advice in his head. “I’m gonna fuck my drummer,” he decides, in perhaps not the same breath but certainly a consecutive one.

“Good, I’m glad. Can we close already? I hate to tell you this, but I do have a life outside my hero worship of you. I’m like, my own whole interesting guy.” Ren smiles, straightens up, and offers him a hand.

“That can’t be right,” Taako muses, and he lets her pull him up. “You don’t even have a last name.”

“Do you?” She cocks an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“That’s debatable,” Taako says airily, and blows her a kiss. “You’re driving dessert tomorrow, bring your A-game. Your A+ game! No, your- uh-”

“I’ll bring my super diamond special reserve game!” she shouts, bouncing excitedly. “Thanks Taako! I hope your drummer wants you!” And before he can even counter that one, she’s off to lock the doors and flip the sign.

Taako’s going home and changing before band practice. Yep.

#fan5fics #taakitz #adjacently lol #taz #tazb #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #taz balance #didja miss me.

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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We all have a memory of the perfect junkyard run. Maybe for you, it was that afternoon you went with your dad’s parole officer to get a new intake pipe for the Cavalier. For me, it was a crisp winter morning, where I pulled a series of mint body panels off a Honda Civic that had just dropped on the lot, while a team of Filipino mechanics toiled around me, stripping RAV4s to the bone and extracting every Toyota 2GR they could find. The air vibrated with excitement, all of us delighted to be bringing our impossible hauls home for smoking deals.

Not every trip to the junkyard can live up to this ideal. For many years, I would get cranky when I’d turn up unannounced on a Saturday and not be able to find what I wanted. Even when I had a big list of broken-assed cars to pick up junk for, sometimes I would simply have to go home empty handed, which was an unpleasant experience for everyone within 20 meters.

Every single one of the checkout ladies had heard enough of me grumbling about neoliberalism, the collapse of the industrial state, and the inevitable decline of my proud old junk in return for a couple of cents per share dividend to absentee shareholders. Folks out in the parking lot would cuss and throw pockets full of stolen relays at me, citing that major economists were right about the inefficient allocation of scarce resources captured by a field full of shit-box automobiles. It took a friend, and a heart-to-heart, to set me right.

Old, One-Eyed Dave (who was actually zero-eyed, due to two freak angle-grinder incidents, about five years apart, but “one-eyed” sounds much better) told me that I should appreciate every visit to the junkyard as an opportunity to discover more about our past. Archeologists don’t get hyper-mad and record a little tantrum for TikTok in their GMC 610s whenever they can’t find a dinosaur bone. They keep looking, and maybe they find an old fossilized plant or something.

Ever since then, I’ve tried to find the good in the junkyard. Make do with what you have. Appreciate every moment. For instance, there are lots of like-new cars – only about twenty years old! – and I can look at them to see if there’s any nice seats inside that I can take. It’s a bit of a struggle ratchet-strapping them onto the roof of my car for the ride home, but I must admit that it is nice to have a heated seat that isn’t being caused entirely by an exhaust fire for once.

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gmanwhore · 2 months

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I ALSO DID THE NIGHTMARES BECAUSE WOOO

Xesbet: Come Little Children/The Hanging Tree

Drugia: The Nowhere King

Barbatos: Rainbow Factory

Exael: THE MEAT GRINDER

Abducius: The Masochism Tango

Anazareth: I Wanna Tell You a Secret

Lilith: Poisoning Pigeons in the Park

Chaugnar: Zydrate Anatomy

Nyogtha: Blood and Bones

Zoth: Rasputin

Shub: Vampire

Yog: People Eater

Quachil: I Threw a Glass at my Friend's Eyes and now I'm on Probation

Yan Luo: Seventeen

Orcus: Me and Mr. Wolf

Ishtar: The Cult of Dionysus

Teutates: Wrecking Ball

Ah Puch: Evil Like Me

Izanami: Smile, Darn You, Smile

Dagda: Old Doll

Mask Ghost: The Ballad of Jane Doe

Clown: Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world

Chester: They're Coming to Take Me Away-Haha!

Nightmare Clown: Boogie Woogie Woo

#tnmn #that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #nightmare mode #tnmn nightmare mode #Spotify

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rei-caldombra · 7 months

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Demon Girl Next Door Chapter 89 Review

I’m back to talking about one of my favorite series ever, Demon Girl Next Door / Machikado Mazoku. If you didn’t see my post giving my thoughts about Demon Girl Next Door as a whole back in September of last year, please check that out! I’m keeping the promise I made there of doing a post on each chapter of going forward. I’m very happy to finally be writing about chapter 89 of Demon Girl Next Door. There will be spoilers and this post is largely written chronologically with the chapter.

This chapter gets right back into the most recent plot development, which is Shamiko wanting to dive into Anri’s memories to obtain the family recipe that was lost in the fire. I’m very happy we are getting a lot more focus on Anri and getting introduced to her family. I’ve always really liked her as a minor character. She fits in perfectly with the cast as she is an eccentric weirdo like everyone else, but in a more normal flavor. She can be silly and gung ho with the weird things in this story that you’d think a normal person wouldn’t, but has more normal reactions and information. She is the most helpful for Shamiko navigating social situations. I think she helps keep things grounded while still contributing to the silly energy of the story. But who knows, that grounded normalcy may be changing in the future based on what we learn here.

We’ve seen Shamiko’s abilities grow a lot in recent chapters. The most notable new one that is mentioned in this chapter is that Shamiko can now mend wounds, including broken bones. This is a pretty big deal, giving her a new way to be helpful to the people around her in a way only she can. Recent developments shown in this chapter are important and I'll get more into how great of a character Shamiko is later in the post.

Shamiko is such a caring girlfriend, making sure Momo eats properly while she is gone. I still love these two and they are the only couple I go full shipper with.

Some of the magical side of things is actually pretty complicated. Sion’s thing as a book demon got brought up here, which I will honestly say I do not get very well. I need to re-look at the arc that focused on her sometime and try to understand it better. I feel her purpose recently has largely been to give cryptic information that is not as helpful as it could be, when we know that she is or at least more knowledgeable about the wider story but doesn’t give us all that info. I don’t dislike her as a character, but I don’t love the way she is being used. It’s pretty much my only criticism of the series right now, and it’s hard to describe why she just doesn’t vibe with me. I think I just don’t like feeling that information is being withheld for no good reason. It’s not a problem of severe note, and maybe if I understand her better than I'll fully see a good reason.

Oh boy this is officially our 2nd foray into proper horror in this series. A meat grinder is a good choice for the family of butchers. Those shots are genuinely creepy and well done, I’m terrified but excited to get more. The horror works especially well because of how long we have had with the series being very wholesome and cutesy. The juxtaposition works very well, so we will see if it continues to work well as we get more scary content. I'm confident it will.

We’re getting some serious lore here. It looks like this story involves the Russo-Japanese war, which I assume is mirroring the real life one. We also learned that demons participated in that war. If I remember correctly Momo was found by Sakura at a Russian facility and spoke Russian when Sakura approached her. So the Russo-Japanese war may have been the event that led to Sakura finding Momo. The old picture mentions Shirosawa which gives the story an avenue to how we can hear another account about this event. A big question going forward is how this factors into the conflict between demons and the light clan + magical girls. Were there demons and magical girls fighting together on both sides of wars? Or is it more in line with each faction being on one side? Is the world at large as aware of and blasé about magical stuff as Tama City is? It looks like we will see more into how magical beings have played into politics, and likely get more into detail about the conflict between the demons and light clan. This is some heavy stuff, showing how the series is maturing into taking itself seriously and has much more to say than just being wholesome and funny. I love the more serious directions it’s taken and hope it continues to feel well balanced with the wholesomeness we all love.

In terms of what this means for Anri, it’s pretty complicated and hard to say right now. The issue in the family Sion mentioned is clearly about the darkness that came in at the end. The family must be under some kind of memory shenanigans. Right before they went into Anri’s home she says that she has a large family. But when they are eating at the table she states that they are a two child family, which totals at 4 people. That is not a large family by normal standards, that’s exactly average. Lilith’s “I see” response is likely her picking up on this. The table is also set in front of those chairs which is strange. When Shamiko goes into the dream we get to see more of the family tree, which I will admit I am not great at reading. But it’s clear that there are 3 siblings who are being blocked out from memory due to some terrible event.

The ending to the dream dive is very rough for Shamiko. Shamiko started off being incapable and incompetent whose failures are mostly played for laughs. But it becomes clear that her weakness and lack of skills gave her issues of inadequacy. I think this stems largely from her long state of being physically weak and ill, along with her time of health where she generally appears as pretty stupid and unfit. We even get reminded of this idea in this chapter through the joke of Anri’s little brother only knowing her as losing and crying a lot. We saw these feelings showcased a lot with her initial interactions with Momo. Such as her getting angry over being looked down on and pitied, and thrusting herself into situations she is not prepared for like fighting Momo in desperation to prove herself. Over the course of the story we have seen her struggle and grow into a more confident and capable person. She got many genuine wins due to her own way of thinking and capabilities, such as defeating Sakura’s minion, freeing Ugallu, and most recently fixing Anri’s broken bone. She has grown to be much more secure with herself, but deep down she still has issues of inadequacy. This coupled with her desire to help people after seeing the darkness inside Anri, makes her feel like she did not succeed here even though she still completed her mission of getting the recipe. Shamiko deeply cares about helping others, likely due to her own past weakness, so when she is presented with the opportunity to help she puts everything else aside to focus on that. And she is still harsh on herself, calling herself a failure for not being able to help in a situation she just found out about. It’s details like this that makes Shamiko feel like such a realized and endearing character.

I’m sure it won’t be long before Momo finds out about all this. She is quite perceptive, so I’m not too surprised that she would know that Anri usually sleeps early. We have seen her notice people’s minor behaviors to a surprising degree, such as when she mapped out how Shamiko’s tail portrays her emotions. It’s also nice to see that Shamiko also does not expect the deception to go on long, showing how well she knows her magical girlfriend. They’ve been close for awhile now and I believe the series does a great job of showing the growing understanding between them. They still have some conflicts but they know each other very well. This is one of the reasons why they are such a great couple. I trust that once she finds out she will help Shamiko get through this.

I’m glad the first chapter we got in awhile is a meaty one! Absolutely worth the wait! I’m very interested to see how the story develops from here. And I do want to end by saying that if you love the series as much as I do, I highly encourage buying the manga and anime DVDs. It’s the best way to support the series. I’m not trying to guilt trip anyone, I just believe it’s best to monetarily support the media you truly care about when you can in addition to talking about how awesome it is online. Most of the manga is available in English already.

Thanks for reading! I’ll be doing posts on each chapter going forward so please stick around! Hopefully the wait will not be as long for the next chapter but I'm happy to wait as long as Ito Sensei needs.

#review #manga #demon girl next door #machikado mazoku #blog #manga chapter

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