#carved man figure
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An Egyptian Wood Figure of a Man 6th Dynasty, reign of Pepi II, circa 2246-2152 B.C.
Striding and wearing a long kilt knotted at the waist and with his right hand holding the over-fold, his left hand by his side, his distinctive face with full outlined lips and large eyes, his short cap-like hair painted in black. Height 16.5 cm.
#An Egyptian Wood Figure of a Man#6th Dynasty reign of Pepi II#circa 2246-2152 B.C.#wood carving#ancient artifacts#archeology#archeolgst#history#history news#ancient history#ancient culture#ancient civilizations#ancient egypt#egyptian history#egyptian art
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Oopsie, my finger slipped....
Say hello to Kiros, the new Duskwight.
#ffxiv screenshots#ffxiv elezen#ffxiv gpose#duskwight#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv screenies#ffxiv#elezen#mans gonna need a tag#he's gonna home my rune knight concept i know that much#i'll figure the rest out#he's too powerful in tthis suit#// the souls in a sea of shards; my ocs#// runes we carve in day and night; across my skin to let me fight (kiros)
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“What If Venom Bonded to Moon Knight?” What If…? Venom (Vol. 1/2024), #5.
Writer: Jeremy Holt; Pencilers and Inkers: Jesús Hervás and Geraldo Borges; Colorist: Ceci de la Cruz; Letterer: Ariana Maher
#Marvel#Marvel comics#What If…? Venom#latest release#Moon Knight#Mr. Knight#Marc Spector#Jake Lockley#Venom#Loki#Loki Laufeyson#…when I first read this I may or may not have sat for a moment trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic#but that’s very uncharitable of me because he’s smart! survive a death trap with a beer can smart!#and he has a spectacularly tactical mind#plus goodness knows he’s more cooperative and diplomatic then say Spider-Man#it’s just sometimes the most efficient way for him to get through a problem is to carve a way through with his own two hands#and I can respect that
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🎤 🎤 🎤
a song that i associate with my muse meme!
AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3
hozier - who we are.
youtube
icehouse - crazy.
youtube
depeche mode - personal jesus.
youtube
#IT WAS PROBABLY NOTHING BUT IT FELT LIKE THE WORLD: musings.#asks - answered.#ooc post.#okay but ESPECIALLY heavy on the last one because it literally all about the idea of someone that people can turn to in hard times-#like a god or a prophet who will listen to your plights and help you + who you should believe in. and i say this because one major theme-#to blamore's character is the concept of being a false prophet and someone who essentially unfortunately takes advantage of people's-#longing for things to get better in gotham. bc i feel like a lot of people there have either been failed by the system by other's or-#possibly both and this is so that blamore can get people to voluntarily want to consume the 'seeds' it distributes in order to uhh...#well purge gotham of its undesirables basically as terrible as that sounds. but yeah that depeche mode song? it's such a good one for-#him and definitely has helped me before to write things related to him since blamore does sometimes believe in its own hubris.#but as for the second one by icehouse that one i associate with it because although it doesn't exactly consider itself to fully identify-#with the label of being a 'man' i feel as if blamore will still talk about itself that way sometimes. its relationship with its gender-#is honestly a little bit complicated NGL because him using it/its pronouns as well is something blamore adopted recently even-#though he'd always sort of felt like disconnected and/or like it didn't really align with how he saw himself completely. BUT yeahhh#i honestly could start a whole discussion about that but i shall do that another time perhaps ahah. anyhow though besides that-#elephant in the room ever since it has transformed into this half-human half-plant monster being... although it does love any partners-#it has very much (trust me) i feel like it does wonder why they chose to be with him more often than he'd like to admit.#so that's where the whole 'crazy' part comes in and as for the hozier song that song is about how you kind of have to carve through-#this 'darkness' to rediscover ourselves and who we want to be as a result of going through a rough time or just something tough in-#general and that is SO freaking fitting in my opinion for blamore because it definitely had to completely reframe the way it thought-#about itself when it transformed. and he also had to figure out what he believed in / what his values were now which can be suchhh-#a messy process TBH but this isn't the first time that blamore's had to rediscover itself as life is honestly kind of this ongoing-#process of losing yourself and trying to find yourself again you know? but yeah. i hope you enjoyed my explanation here tehe <3#and also that you enjoy the tunes!!
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Silocke was a bit amazed by the pride that emerged on Han's face. Was he making this face because he was such a great person? "What were you originally? A sword master? Or a great magician?" "It is similar." "What is it?" "I was the department head of a large company."
#holy crap#I figured the guy wasn't dead#but I was NOT expecting this#oh man the one person who can tell that he's NOT yjh#unless dokja plans to change his face to look like yjh specifically and not just look handsome in general#...poor dokja being told he looks like common dough while yjh looks like he was carved by the gods for 1000 years 😭#orv novel chapter 201#orv spoilers#orv#orv liveblog#omniscient reader's viewpoint#han myungoh
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Love the idea of Kae getting used to eating consistent meals bc of a significant other or even a friend who made it a point to always eat with him to ensure he doesn't forget, and even gaining a little weight as a result, even with his metabolism.
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Him playfully protesting that he hates the couple extra pounds and 'blaming' his other for it#//Meanwhile first chance he gets; he's happily observing his figure; and relieved he's at a healthier one than he was before#//Smth smth abt the healing process and him no longer being so stressed/distracted to neglect to take care of himself in that aspect#//And many others; bc a s/o who goes through routines like that with him (like naps) DEFFO helps him keep on top of that shit#//Or even going through their own routines and him doing smth in parallel play sorta helping remind him of his own shit#//Deffo was sickly thin as a kid; then got better with Addie's care; then his eating routine went OUT the fucken window when Luc left#//Bc he couldn't stomach much with his stress and guilt eating away at him instead#//And then leaving her care it got WORSE; bc then he was too busy/stressed to worry abt himself save his own appearance#//ALL his spoons went to Investigations; Knight Duties; and Beauty routines#//Hence why Noelle bcame so dear to him; when she came into his life; she likely picked up how busy he was and helped him out Lots#//His newer routine of bugging Luc at the tavern actually helps him remember to eat#//Bc he /hates/ drinking on an empty stomach; but typically doesn't care. With Luc; however; going to see him; he gets an urge to front mor#//And snacking means he's less likely to make faces when the alcohol doesn't sit right with him/he drinks too much#//So Luc's less likely to deny him drinks. Charles; Kae can just charm more out of him regardless. Luc takes more convincing#//Drinking at Cats Tail helps too; bc Margaret makes SURE he's had smth before drinking. She understands him in that regard#//Typically makes him eat smth that ends making him sleepy like soup so he heads home & promptly passes tf out hitting the pillow#//He's not actually caught on to the fact that she does this on purpose in the entire time he's been a patron with her#//He keeps chalking it up to how relaxed the mood there is that lulls his body into some sense of security#//bc he DOES gets sleepier around ppl he trusts for that very reason; is why sometimes he pulls away from them#//If Addie manages to get her hands on him before he skeddadles out of the Winery; she'll have him tucked away and sleeping in no time#//And actually having the MOST restful sleep he's ever had in AGES; up until he startles himself awake and realizes Luc's home#//And has to book it TF out of the Winery bc he doesn't want to deal with the man & bicker so soon after waking#//He's already made vulnerable by Addie's care; he doesn't need Luc to carve him right open if their bickering goes too far. Not like this#//It'd be all too easy#//Is also why he likes staying awake and watching people he cares for sleep. Bc if HE sleeps & wakes w them; he shows a MASSIVELY vulnerabl#side to himself that he REALLY doesn't want people seeing; and for hella good reason. It's an open shot at his heart; after all#//Wow; SO many points where it veered jdfbgf. And this was supposed to be abt healing & self-care jdkjfg
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the one thing about toh is now i crave more kids that seem cool at first but they’re actually huge dorks. and this becomes progressively more apparent as the series goes on as it should be
#like COME ON FROM EP 1 AMITY WAS HASHTAG MEAN GIRL BUT WE ALL KNEW SHE WAS A BIG NERD AT HEART.#which is not automatically dork but w certain flags is dork adjacent and MY GIRL HAD THEM.#HUNTER WAS FUCKING SILLY MAN#we only got hints of it when he was golden guard but in ttt we got so many moments and i will be eternally grateful.#and by hints of it i do mean he was still hilarious but he still held himself to Absurdly Mature soldier standards#also ‘kids’ is used very loosely here just take it as characters in general. i love this trope#toh#i’m glad we got to see them grow from ppl who held themselves to super high standards that ultimately left them unfulfilled#and manipulated by their parental figures#to kids who felt secure enough to be silly and indulge in their interests and talk about their feelings out loud and see another purpose#for themselves#dude amity went from business tool to LOOK HOW GENUINELY HERSELF AND HAPPY SHE LOOKS IN THE END.#got her own career good relationship w her dad now dork ass girlfriend mutually supportive FRIENDSHIPS#hunter went from destined to be DEAD 💀 FEEDING BELOS PALISMEN TO LITERALLY CARVING PALISMEN + SUPPORTIVE FRIENDS ALSO +#HAVING THE GIRLFRIEND OF ALL TIME + SMILING!!! NO EYEBAGS!!! DO YOU SEE HIM LIKE ACTUALLY#oh ok we get it. i’m passionate#anyway yea. i’m passionate#the thing i like about amity is she seems like a coolkid but u realize she’s a dork. and she’s both#hunter is not a coolkid#hunter is a dork that can make excellent one liners#and kick your ass#‘one liners’ this is doing him an injustice btw#but he is not a coolkid#do i love them both? yea#the kids ever fr
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first day of work was backbreaking but doable 👍 desperately trying to kill this coffee on an empty stomach so i dont die before nighttime even tho outside thinks it may as damn well be 9pm already
#using my precious free time to rotate keisser in my head. uwu. affectionate.#im so proud of him dont fcking ask me whatbhe looks like though besides a lankier redheaded version of 1987 kiefer lawl#trying to figure out his tattoo situation also#ik hes got a thorn crown around his forehead and a couple tree branches at his temple and cheekbones#i feel like in 100 years hed have said fuck it and decorated his entire body w them but like#i want them to be significant enough to his original time period#but also somewhat unhinged in a way only a man doomed to walk the earth forever would have lol#like he probably has his sins carved into him farcry 5 style#but also likeeee i suck with tattoo design ngl. i am ass#i just really really really like him. <3. my son slash imagination boyfriend
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hilson domestic scenes deal more damage than ANY of the crazy shit they say at work
#figure out what that says about me on your own time#hilson#house#wilson#something something a space theyve carved out for themselves something something a piece of life untouched by outsiders#something something two old fucked up men whove built a home together#house md#hatecrimes md#something something a place clean from the horrors they witness daily. where the only horrors are the ones they create themselves#something about retaining the ability to be soft and to be yourself when you put on a front for everyone else every minute of every day#idk man it gets me
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this fucking. mike heika bennguin article is making me nauseous. in a good way kind of sjfbwnx just reading about tyler having to come to terms with not being The Guy anymore and having to find his new role on the team makes me. disgustingly emotional.
#cannot begin to psychoanalyse this rn i’m gonna die#like god. coming into town as the new thing. having unreal season after unreal season#and then u get injured and by the time u come back u can’t do what u used to do and there’s a new you#but you’re still beloved by your team and important to them as A Guy so u have to figure out how to make it work#doing stuff you’ve never Really had to worry about before#like getting horrifically injured and then coming back to see you’ve been more or less replaced in every role u had before#and then having to just take that and be like. ok how can i carve out a new role for myself here#like he has to be. the most mentally strong man in the world i swear to god lol#okay sorry i said i wouldn’t get into it rn. i feel sick from this article.#yap yap yapping
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i get into a horrific car accident while carrying a crock pot full of meatballs in the passenger seat. at the hospital, the surgeons cannot sort out which chunks of meat are me and which are not, so I end up with several meatballs sewn into my guts. despite this I make a full recovery, and they elect not to remove the meatballs because quote 'they seem comfy in there.' i go on the talk show circuit and become moderately famous as The Meatballs Woman. when i die i am buried under a gravestone with meatballs carved on it. in the year 2438, a grad student from what is now Cambodia who is studying the late pre-collapse American Empire writes her thesis on this, concluding that I probably never existed and was a conflation of several real stories and urban legends. years later, a pop-history book wildly misinterprets this and several other things, arguing for the existence of a historic American religious pantheon including figures like The Meatballs Woman, Florida Man, Emperor Norton, etc. this book sells bizarrely well and inspires a new neo-pagan movement, which in turn leads to a weird shipping community, resulting in a small but vibrant scene of ABO fics featuring me and MrBeast (who in this context has been interpreted as a god of excess and trickery)
this chilling scenario is only one of the multiple reasons I am going to attempt to not crash my car today
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SPARKLEZ!
You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Or maybe you would. What do I know?
Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many selves. I'm living a thousand lives at once. And those are just the lives I'm aware of. For instance, in a place called Middle Earth I am reborn a beautiful elf queen. And under the ice shield of a moon called Europa I am a strand of plankton. And in a world we both know well, I'm a bunch of little girls who look just like me, and maybe other things too... Anyway, my umbrella consciousness has reformed for just a moment; my caretaker, in his mercy, has allowed me to show you these things.
But you definitely won't believe the most amazing thing I've seen. Lately I've been looking through a window... A window into bygone years. A man sits in front of a screen, speaking his soul to the world while playing a game. I think I know who he is!
I see this man forming friendships with those who also speak to the world. I know who they are too. They project themselves as tiny box figures into a world made of boxes. It's so much less detailed than the world where the man and his friends sit. I would not have known Ruxomar and it's sister dimensions to be so childlike in appearance except by this contrast!
The days go on as the friends play. The boxlike world is ruled by two gods. Of course I know who they are. The man is faced with a choice between the two. His life is riddled with choices! And like the stubborn idealist he is, he carves out a middle path. He'll take neither god. He'll have a goddess all to his own.
He created me.
A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves. He looks so much less boxy! I think that if I did not already know you and Spark so well, I would call him my favorite version.
Now I grasp the truth I have been seeking all my life. I have see what is above gods. It is ____________.
My umbrella consciousness won't hold much longer. Let me say a few choice words before the final goodbye between this version of you and this version of me. Thank you for choosing to create me. I believe that had the other you not made that choice in that far off world, none of my present selves would exist. In a strange sense, you are my god. Thank you for believing in your creation enough to make it real. Thank you for continuing to love me and make choices for my wellbeing. I hope another you loves another me in another world soon.
If Jordan looks out the window one of these days, he might be able to see me.
Not even creeping. Just fyi.
Forever Your Lady
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that feeling where you have an epiphany about your current obsession is like no other earth!!!!
#like. oh. duh. ok.#it’s only taken me like. 6 months to figure it out.#like. how. did it take me so long to land on this.#better late than never.#it’s about identity man.#and like. do you carve that out for yourself.#in a world that’s like. always itself.#workshopping it. but. yeah. that.
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On The Run Part 1
The Barn
mdni
cw: violent behavior, suggestive themes, i will get better at this i swear
It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal, massive Tibetan Mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how terrible it’s coming down you would have felt terrible.
But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.
You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.
But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and you're flying out of your bed.
Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.
You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.
The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your herd. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank open the double doors
Locked.
Your barn is never locked.
From the inside.
“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.
“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they hold strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.
You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.
“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.
You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.
The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.
Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.
You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.
“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.
He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.
Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.
Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth. Your gasp is muffled at the pressure of cold steel at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.
“Not. A. Sound.” A gruff voice barks in your ear, and your blood runs cold.
“Lock the doors back.” The man orders, and a sinking feeling overcomes you when you hear a new set of footsteps. You stumble as you’re jerked back, Dixon barking as you start to thrash, kicking your feet, but the grip around you tightens.
“Fuckin- Knock it off!” He growls, pressing what you can only guess is your carving knife painfully against your throat and Grimes lets out a guttural sounding bark before lunging, only to yelp when a foot shoves him back, and you thrash harder, attempting to nip at this man’s hand.
“Stop you little fuckin-SHIT!” He bellows as your teeth sink into his palm, not releasing until you taste his blood splash over your teeth, and then you’re on the ground.
“Little bitch!”
“Don’t touch my fucking animals.” You spit, turning to stare up at the intruder, just to be met with a ski mask and cold eyes. You can’t help but freeze, the carving knife glinting in the low light of the barn.
He’s quick, and you try to stumble to your feet, but you're once more in his grasp. You go for a punch, but he catches your wrist easily, pinning your arm behind your back with one hand and yanking your forward with the other, pinning you against him, and the knife is at your throat again.
“Let’s try this again.” He says between clenched teeth, tightening his grip till you whimper.
“Ghost. Lighten up.” A voice pipes up, raspy and stern with a commanding tone. The masked man, Ghost, rolls his eyes, but loosens the hold he has on your wrist.
“Who else lives here?” He questions, and it feels as though a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you.
“No one…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut when his grip tightens once more. “Don’t bullshit us. Who else lives on this land with you?!” He’s in your face, making you open your eyes, tears blurring your vision.
“It’s just me I swear!” You sob, feeling the tip of the knife digging into your skin. “I swear to god it’s just me, you can go check the house-“
The pressure of the knife is gone, and the shock of your bare knees hitting the barn floors barely phases you as Dixon and Grimes dart to your side, whining softly as they nudge your hands with their heads.
“Think she’s telling the truth?” A new voice speaks up, a thick Scottish accent ringing in your ears as you try to put distance between you and the four, you are finally able to count, men standing in the middle of your barn.
“Explains the massive mutts.” Ghost grunts, glancing at the four mastiffs, who you push behind you, shielding them, trying not to let your fear show more than it already has.
“They aren’t mutts.” You hiss, Judy nuzzling her giant head into your back as you shuffle them back, away from these men.
You hold your head high, but your lip can’t help but tremble when all their eyes turn to you.
“You sure there’s no one else in that great big house?” The older man with scruffy facial hair asks with a tilt of his head, and a spark of agitation flares in your chest. Why did they want to know so badly? if they were going to…
If they were going to kill you, surely they would have done it by now, right?
“I swear on my life.” You plead, voice cracking. You’re horrified when you realize your nightgown has been soaked through this whole time, noticing the way the one with the mohawk, the Scot, keeps eyeing your bosom. You look away, cheeks burning as fresh tears prick your eyes.
“Soap, Gaz. You two go check the house. Report back to me, I want a moment with her.” The unnamed man ordered.
Mohawk and a dark skinned man nodded, heading out of the barn. Ghost passes one of them the carving knife, and your fist curl in your lap.
“What do I do Price?” Ghost asks, and the man, Price, waves a hand, eyes trained on you. “Search the surrounding area, look for anyone hiding on the property.”
“Understood.”
And then you were alone. The barn has settled, most of your animals having made their way to the farthest wall behind you. He approaches you slowly, cautiously eyeing Dixon who raises up, baring his teeth, but you click your tongue, and he steps back immediately, sitting at your side like a statue as the others guard the flock.
You feel a puff of air breath against your head, and you can’t help the wet laugh that bubbles out when you realize Sebastian is standing guard over you.
“Seems you’ve got yourself quite the protection.”
He muses, eyes bouncing between the animals.
“They were abandoned when I found this place.” You confess, a slight tremble to your voice as you watch Price crouch in front of you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over your form and you wrap your arms around your middle.
“If my men are walking into a trap, whoever is there will be killed.” He says simply, tone almost bored and you feel your face pale.
“They’re not! This is my land! Mine!” You insist, frustrated tears falling freely as you flex your fingers, muscles tense.
“Tiny little bird like you, all by herself?” Ghost scoffs as he returns, and you feel your ears burn.
“What did you find?” Price asks him over his shoulders.
“Can hardly see shit in this rain but I found no one. There’s a truck around back but the engine seems shot.” He shrugs, eyes peering at you through that ski mask and you avert your gaze.
The doors open against, the other two rushing in, soaked to the bone.
“The house is clear sir. Only one room looks lived in, two guest rooms down the hall on the upper level and a small library on the ground level. Gaz found a shotgun by the front door.” The Scot, Soap, you gather, reports back to Price.
“I told you. It’s just me out here.” You mutter, and this time Ghost is crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.
“You hiding from something little bird?” He asks, cocking his head to the side
“You’re the ones breaking into my barn and scaring my animals!” You snap, trying to get out of his grip, but he only holds tighter.
“You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” You see his eyes crinkle, and you're shocked this man even knows how to smile under that mask.
He releases you, standing up and stepping back to stand with the other three men, who still loom over you. You feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter house, and you bury one of your hands in Dixon’s thick fur to ground yourself.
“Please-“ You start, voice shaking, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.
“I don’t have much, there’s maybe three thousand dollars in the safe in my closet. I’ll give you the code just…” Your voice trails off, a sob slipping past your lips and Dixon whines, low and sad as he places his giant head in your lap.
“Please don’t hurt us. D-don’t hurt my animals- I won’t even call the cops, it would take the nearest deputy three hours to even reach my house.” You beg, exhaustion and nerves taking over as your shoulders slump, trembling with your quiet sobs.
You see Price’s boots approach you, and he tilts your chin up, and you flinch when he brushes a tear away with his thumb.
“Stop all these tears pretty. We don’t want to hurt you or your little farm.” He coos down at you. Confusion swirls in your head, making you dizzy as another sob can’t help but slip out, Price cupping your cheeks, shushing you softly as he wipes your cheeks.
“I don’t understand…” You whisper, searching this strange, terrifying man’s face for any sign of deceit, but he just grins at you.
“You told us the truth. Very good.” It sounds almost like praise the way he whispers it to you, and you whimper, shame filling your stomach. You look away from him, taking a shuddering breath as you struggle to compose yourself.
“Let’s get you back inside hm? Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tsks, and before you can argue, you’re being lifted into his arms, tucked against his chest. You try to struggle, but the adrenaline has worn off, confusion left in its wake as these strange men usher the herd into their correct pens, Soap barley escaping one of the Roosters pecking at him in defiance, before pausing.
“I don’t think I want to mess with this guy.” Gaz mutters, the three of them staring at Sebastian, who stares back, as though daring them to try and corral him.
“He.. He’ll go back in his stall once it’s quiet… You scared them…” You mutter, tired as you give in, resting your head against the strong chest you’re pressed against, and you feel Price’s grip tighten.
“You’re freezing sweetheart, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” He murmers, and your heart skips.
“I can do that myself.” You hiss, staring up at him with narrowed eyes, despite the fact you can feel your cheeks burning.
He just laughs.
#call of duty#cod mwii#cod x reader#call of duty smut#tf 141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#gaz x reader#x reader#cod smut#on the run
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i know supernatural is the show of missed opportunities but man. the trials really get to me - what a perfect way to reboot and reset this show that you're artificially extending for ratings. it could have been really, really good, actually
so the trials of god is a way for someone to gain the ability to seal the gates of hell and the gates of heaven
they have the translation for hell, they know that slamming the gates of hell shut means calling all the demons back home and locking the key. it's logical, then, to for them to believe the same is true of the one for heaven - that it calls all the angels back home and locks them away where they can't do any more damage
peace, for the people of earth, outside of the influence of angels and demons. that's got to be worth it, right?
so while sam is completing the hell trials, they get the angel tablet, kevin gets translating, to figure out the angel trials. or maybe metatron helps nudge them along to figuring it out, since him being the big bad here isn't really relevant and they are in a bit of time crunch
canon doesn't tell us what the heaven trials are, except that the first one involves a ritual using the heart of a nephilim. they make it sound like they're carving it from their chest, but what i would do is
have a nephilim offer you their heart from their chest (gain their loyalty in a binding ceremony)
create grace from freshwater (there is no rain that falls anywhere on earth that is safe to drink and god said let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters)
find a human soul to guide you to heaven (babel fell but the stairway was built and those with wings have no need of stairs)
so sam is in the midst of the hell trials when dean sort of accidentally on purpose completes the first heaven trial and then the brothers are on parallel train tracks heading in the opposite direction
sam works to close the gates of hell
dean works to close the gates of heaven
demons and angels both working to stop them
sam completes the trials. he restores crowley's humanity and he dies and the gates of hell are closed
but that's not the end
metatron says they can close the gates if they're willing to pay the price. canon says the price is sam's death, but frankly that doesn't make any sense. what's the death of one human against the horrors of hell? and remember, metatron doesn't know the winchesters. maybe another angel would make this comment, knowing how the winchesters have weighed the safety of the world against their brother and left the world out to dry, would think this a price worth warning for. but metatron wouldn't bother, wouldn't even think of it, if that was the only price
the gates of hell close and malevolent spirits explode across the globe, evil spirits and angry ghosts causing death and destruction everywhere
hell serves a function and now the gates are closed and every evil human soul is forced to stay on earth, causing as much destruction as it can
that's the price for closing the gates of hell
except. except. aren't the hell trials interesting?
kill a hellhound. rescue an innocent soul and return it to heaven. purify a demon and restore their humanity.
the trials are not to prove if someone is worthy of closing the gates of hell. it's to prove they're capable of setting hell to rights
the trials are if things got too out of hand, if things were taken too far, and hell had to be put back in it's place. sam dies and ends up exactly where azazel wanted him - ruler of hell. all the demons and souls are trapped with him and what he has to do, while he has them all there, while they can't escape, is exactly what he did to get there
he kills the hellhounds, leaving only those meant to patrol hell. he releases every innocent soul bound there. he purifies the demons one by one, who he either releases as innocent souls or who to pledge to do their job as demons of hell - punishing evil, containing evil - in penance for what they did before (how do i even begin to make up for what i've done, crowley had asked, and this is the answer)
meanwhile, dean, heartbroken, completes the heaven trials and dies
and the gates of heaven slam shut and all the angels are stripped of their grace and expelled from heaven and dean finds himself in charge of an empty heaven
the trials are for when things have gone too far and heaven must be rebuilt, after all
good souls pile up, no one who dies able to truly leave earth, and given enough time they become twisted things that must be hunted along with the spirits of evil men and women who cause chaos from their last breath
dean has work to do. he has one angel - the nephilim whose loyalty he earned in the first trial - and this is what he has to do. he recruits more, to replace the ranks, he creates grace and hands it out judiciously. he sends them to guide the good souls home, using the stairway that the former angels wouldn't be able to use even if they wanted to, and each good act and deed earns them a little more grace. former angels throw themselves into the fight for humans, because they know it's the only way that dean will return their grace to them and lift them back into heaven
and in fighting for them, in living like them, they learn to love these creations of their father that they'd despised. they see what he saw and the thought of destroying this place in a civil war becomes unthinkable to them. they are once more the angels god intended them to be
in this, dean and sam fulfill their destiny as lucifer and michael's vessels. not in letting them in, but in pushing them out, in doing the work each was intended for but refused
only when there is only evil human souls being punished and caged, only once the demons are once more working to run hell and earn their release to heaven, does sam reopen the gates of hell
only when there's a full choir of angels once more, committed to their cause, only once there are souls working with reapers as it once always was, does dean reopen the gates of heaven
they're called the god trials for a reason. above and below, sam and dean act as god, putting things back in their intended places
they could stay. they should stay. keeping house, making sure it all goes smoothly, eternally keeping earth safe from angels and demons both
they're called the god trials for a reason. not even god could resist the paradise inbetween that he'd created
dean doesn't know if sam is going to return to earth. he might stay in hell, and if dean becomes human once more, then what's the point? he'll live and die a human, get stuck in heaven, and be forever separated from the brother he loves
sam doesn't know if dean is going to return to earth. he migh not be able to, might be stuck doing his work - sam assumes if the hell trials did this to him, then the heaven trials did the same to dean, and the idea that dean could have failed the heaven trials after he dies doesn't even cross mind. if he returns and dean's not there then he loses it all, he never again gets to see the brother he loves
but when, exactly, haven't they been willing to risk everything for each other?
dean falls as lucifer fell, throwing himself towards earth
sam rises as michael did after the fall, pulling himself towards earth the same way michael once pulled himself to the top of heaven
what's the use of being a god without his brother, after all?
dean and sam are reunited on earth, human once more
no more angels, no more demons, heaven and hell functioning once more as they should. we're back to basics, a clean slate, all of the rest remade and set aside by their own hands (it's literal and a metaphor, the way the show could have remade itself with the trials, after setting aside kripke's plan while at the same time recognizing that the design of it - two brothers who love each other going across america and fighting evil - is the thing that made it worth watching to begin with) and now it's them again, brothers forged in blood and sacrifice and love, and a new appreciation for the humanity they gave up and returned to
and then we get my beloved monster of the week with no stupid too high stakes, convoluted bullshit involved, beyond the occasional angel who dean refused to reinstate and demon tracking down miscreant souls and, every once in a while, a person or creature or something in between squinting at them and going - weren't you two gods?
nah, they say, all corn fed grins and the dimples their momma gave them, we're brothers
#supernatural#okay this got extremely out of hand but you get my point here right#the trials could have been a great reset for the show#we could have gone back to stupid legends and monsters and two hunters doing their best#because everything worse had been locked away by them#while still leaving them no clue how to deal with the average mow because it's not an angel or demon#fandom ficcery
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zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.
right?
the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.
the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.
and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.
but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.
satoru finds you utterly intriguing.
people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.
maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.
you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.
but there's no obvious malice.
it's interesting.
satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.
you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.
which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.
or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.
blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.
desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.
satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.
he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.
but you're keen, too.
you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.
but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.
there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.
a survivor always recognizes a survivor.
#this is hashtag wordvomit.#freak satoru my beloved<3333#angel boy#wtf mickey can write#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo drabble#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru drabble#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk drabble#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru au#jjk au
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