*Drumroll~~~* This is my Valentine’s Art Trade for the AMAZING @nayeonniekim!!! I drew Yoosung in his LOLOL armour (slightly modified) and Nay’s character who is a bloodthirsty assassin. HOPE YA LIKE IT, NAY <3
Story time: Nay is the first friend I made on here :) despite having this account for a year (how do you friend on Tumblr >.>) We instantly clicked on our mutual love of husbando Yoosung and since then our friendship has been growing strong~ She’s a wonderful person and ya’ll should follow her HER ART IS LIT <3
hello! I really enjoy your blog & your writing & ur different opinions about things! I was wondering, if it's not that much of a bother if you could write a platonic!shadamy u know them being rlly close pals with a bit of sonamy on the side! Have a great day 💖
Aww, thank you so much! I love discussions and just sharing in our love for the same things~ Anytime my friend! :Db
Now precious anon, for your viewing pleasure, I give to you..
“Ow! Err… twigs!” Amy tried to make her way through the brush, trying to keep up with tracking down Sonic and the team before she spotted a familiar looking silhouette in the distance.
She gasped, excited as ever as her quills went slightly up in her moment of stressful release. “I did it! Oh, finally! Son-!”
She took off after the image before finally seeing the figure move into the light.
She blinked her eyes, studying the black and red before it clicked in her mind.
“…dow?” she stepped back, unsure at first if she should make her presence known. She withdrew her arms back to herself and put them together up by the collar of her dress, turning slightly as if to leave the setting should he spot her presence there.
“But…” she re-positioned herself towards him, lowering an arm down to peek out and spy on him a moment. “What would he be doing way out here?”
After seeing something flash in the sky, a few fumes of flaming jetpack engines landing next to Shadow, she realized he may be working with Eggman; she noticed the robot’s familiar appearance too.
“Metal!” she placed her hands over her mouth, listening…
After misinterpreting the one-way conversation, Amy jumped out, determined to accuse Shadow of foul play, before Metal used her distraction to attack him.
Seeing Shadow not able to put up much of a struggle, different to how she usually viewed him, she suddenly realized something was horrible wrong with Shadow, and immediately jumped into the fray.
“Hyah!” She slammed her hammer against his metallic skull as Metal was about to pierce a powerful claw down on Shadow.
He stumbled up to his knee, having been knocked down on his back, eye squinted shut and arm limp as he held it to it’s side.
“Why… are you helping me?”
Amy stood, protectively, in front of Shadow as Metal Sonic shook his head, looking like he meant business and even ticked that she interfered.
“Because. Something’s wrong. You were getting beaten up out there.” Amy stated her observations, but didn’t look back at him.
Metal, in his rage, shook his metallic fingers around in front of him, threatening her to make a move as she held her hammer back, as if a baseball player ready for the ball…
“I was wrong about you, Shadow. And this is me admitting my faults and trying to make up for it!”
Metal came bursting out towards her.
That’s when she saw it.
Her eyes widened as she noticed Metal Sonic having a strange yellow glowing aura she hadn’t seen before, something so faint, you had to be close up to see.
As she lowered her hammer a moment, she saw his engine carrying Shadow’s limiters.
She deduced then that some sort of theft must have happened, and Metal Sonic was being powered by the limiters, meaning that Shadow must have used up all his ‘ultimate power’ and couldn’t recharge at his usual fast rate of recovery without storing some of his power back first.
She lowered her head down with a quick glare.
“That’s not fair!” She cried out, and dodged the claw strike, as she raised her hammer again.
“No one likes playing dirty!”
She slammed her hammer into his back, then continued to wham Metal Sonic down as he flinched on the ground, his body being impaled into the rocks below him, before they shattered under the raw power of her slamming Piko Piko Hammer.
Shadow rose up, as Amy suddenly snapped out of her ‘destroy the annoyingly stupid robot that vaguely reminded her of Sonic and past traumas’ before looking up curiously at Shadow.
He walked over, kneeling down, he threw his hand back.
“Wait… you’re not gonna-” Amy held out a hand, before screeching as she saw his hand dive into the spiraling engine of Metal Sonic.
Metal Sonic whirled in a frenzy of sounds and noises, while Shadow’s eyebrows twitched vigorously at the pain of his hand being shredded before grabbing his limiters, and yanking it out.
His teeth were so gritted together that he felt a hardness in his jaw ache at just moving them apart to breathe aloud.
He put the limiters on, his chest moving up and down at the amount of effort and pain endured, before looking down at Metal Sonic.
“I appreciate the concern…” he then turned to Amy, seeing she really did a number on Metal Sonic for him.
“But I have business elsewhere.” he turned away from her, walking off…
Before he collapsed, a slight and fainted cry of exhaustion catching upon the wind that made Amy race towards him.
As he went down, he heard her voice in the background, before feeling a strong but almost … gentle pair of arms hoist him up.
He opened his eyes into a squint, looking over and seeing Amy having wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and her other arm carried him by the waist.
“What… do you think… erk… you’re doing?” Shadow spoke through the pain and exhaustion.
“I’m helping a friend, don’t you have one of those?” she squinted an eye down, realizing he wasn’t as light as she hoped for, and continued to move on, smiling. “Heh, if Sonic was here, he would do the same!”
Shadow wondered about that, examining her expression and realizing it was the same as that annoying blue hedgehogs.
He turned away, dipping his head down and trying his best to alleviate some of the weight.
When Shadow awoke, he smelled a delicious odor of sorts that had stirred him alive.
With his limiters now prohibiting some of his power from being exposed, it was able to be converted and used for healing instead of mass destruction.
He felt his hand, and noticed as he brought it up in surprise that it had been bandaged, and was nicely and neatly taken care of.
He looked over to see that he was lying on a bed of leaves, and to his left- Amy was cooking over a fire she had constructed.
She heard something rustling and turned, smiling kindly to Shadow.
“Oh, good! You’re up and alive!”
He groaned, leaning up before reaching to his stomach.
Another moment of surprise that made him blink twice.
He looked down at his stomach, “I.. Feel little to no pain…”
He saw that his stomach was full of smashed up, gooey substance covered with leaves… and squished a little between his fingers, looking at it closely.
“Hand-made ointment. I’m pretty good with mixing things together.” she winked, “Good cooks make good nurses too!” she chimed, before bringing him over something in a bowl. “Here. It’s good for survival after a fierce pummeling like that… ah! I mean-! Y-you totally could have taken him under the right circumstances!” She took one hand and waved it rapidly, trying to erase from the very air around her the moment of her slip up, not wanting to offend him.
He simply reached over and grabbed the bowl from her, ignoring her words and taking a sip of the soup.
“Ah.” he moved away, his tongue being slightly burnt.
“Careful!” Amy moved forward, crawling a bit to be at eye-level before happily blowing on the bowl.
He watched her enact the kind gesture with a sense of gentle elegance before opening her eyes and smiling back at him. “You don’t eat a lot of hot foods, do you Shadow?”
He frowned deeply, before testing the smell over his nose, feeling the steam had died down a bit and then took another sip.
Just the right temperature.
“What are you doing all the way out here, anyway?” Amy leaned back, but smiled as she saw him taking his time to slurp the nutritious meal.
He pulled the bowl away and looked down, “Metal Sonic had stolen my limiters… I was simply retrieving what was mine.” He then side-glanced to her, still keeping a rather cold demeanor, but to Amy, he seemed to be showing a much more softer side.
“And you? What would Sonic be doing here. Looking for Eggman, I presume?”
“Emhmm! Guess you got me there! I’m tracking Sonic and the others down. But I’ve…” she looked around where they were, before looking a bit embarrassed as she returned to addressing Shadow. “I may have lost a step or two…”
She sweat dropped, closing her eyes and smiling sheepishly.
He ‘hmph’d, as if expecting half as much from her, making her pout as he closed his eyes and continued this meal.
“I never asked for your conveniences.”
“You never ask for anything.” Amy pouted, before smiling warmly to him again. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t help out a friend in need.”
He looked up at her as she rose to her feet. “Friend?”
She reached down and took his bowl with both hands, before turning to him with a beautiful smile of mercy, “Everyone deserves one.” she winked, and then took the bowl, walking off.
He watched her go, suddenly dipping his head and giving a concealed closed-eyed smile, before returning to a neutral frown as he arose.
Amy turned then, “Where are you going now?”
“Your blue hero is probably worried about you.” he folded his arms, giving her a look before closing his eyes again, avoiding her gaze by dipping his head and then looking behind him.
“I suppose it’s only fair to return such kindnesses with one of my own.”
“Shadow? Being kind?” Amy sarcastically put a finger to her cheek, looking up at the sky as if she spoke that in complete innocent.
He twitched with an anger mark.
“I could leave you to struggle with the night-life horrors of this foreign land.” he glared up at her, almost threatening her to stop making fun of him.
“Woah, woah, hey now! Take a joke with a sense of humor, why don’t ya…” she patted the air to try and calm him down, but he noticed too much of Sonic in her, and resented it.
At least she was more tolerable… however…
He held up a hand to his bandaged one, looking down at it’s orderly fashion, done with much care and diligence.
“I’ll happily take your offer, Shadow.”
He looked up then, almost as if being pleasantly surprised she would.
But why wouldn’t she? It was logical to take the advantage of his request.
She put out the fire, dancing a moment as the flame caught to her boot she was using to stomp it out. After watching her flail a moment and then scratch the back of her head, being clumsy, he immediately wondered how she could make it on her own.
‘Now I see…’ Shadow thought, stretching his mouth to the side of his muzzle to frown, observing her as she came closer. ‘This is why Sonic continues to keep her close by… easier to protect that way. She seems to need a lot of care at times… though,-’
He offered her his arms, and she positioned herself so he could lift her up, bridal style.
‘I suppose it makes up for itself… when she returns such kindnesses.’
He looked forward, and skated off like a jet!
(No real ‘direct sonamy’ but I hope it was enough to keep you smiling how Shadow can have a soft spot for a kind gesture xD)
*’No wonder Sonic keeps you close by.’ He relaxed his eyes, seeming annoyed as he kept his arms folded. ‘You’re high maintenance.’ XDDDD LOLOLOLOL
“Once upon a time a boy went to a revival meeting. He had grown up in a Christian home and in the church, but he heard something that night he had never heard before.
The preacher held up a dirty glass. ‘See this glass? That’s you. Filthy, stained with sin, inside and outside.’
He picked up a hammer. ‘This hammer is the righteousness of God. It is the instrument of God’s wrath against sinners. God’s justice can be satisfied only by punishing and destroying people whose lives are filled with vileness and corruption.’
The preacher put the glass on the pulpit and slowly, deliberately drew back the hammer, took deadly aim, and with all his might let the blow fall.
But a miracle happened! At the last moment he covered the glass with a pan. The hammer struck with a crash that echoed through the hushed church. He held up the untouched glass with one hand and the mangled pan with the other.
‘Jesus Christ died for your sins. He took the punishment that ought to have fallen on you. He satisfied the righteousness of God so that you might go free if you believe in him.’
When the boy went to bed that night, he could not sleep. Meditating on what he had seen and heard, he decided that he was terribly afraid of God. But could he love such a God? He could love Jesus, who had sacrificed himself for him. But how could he love a God who wanted to ‘get’ everyone and was only kept from doing it because Jesus got in the way? The thought crossed the boy’s mind that he could only hate such a hammer-swinging God who had to be bough off at such a terrible price. But he quickly dismissed that thought. That very God might read his mind and punish him.
…Finally, he wondered what good it had all done in the end. The glass had escaped being smashed to bits, but nothing had really changed. After the drama was over, it was still just as dirty as it was before. Even if Jesus did save him from God, how did Jesus’ sacrifice help him to be a better person?
Most of us suspect that there is something wrong with the theology illustrated by the preacher’s object lesson. But what?
Jesus came to express, not to change, God’s mind. …Reconciliation is the work of God, not that it is purchased from God. What Jesus does is not done over or against God; his work is God’s work, for he himself is God-with-us.
Jesus does take the deserved punishment for sin upon himself, but not to satisfy the justice of a Judge who is against us. Jesus is himself the Judge (2 Cor. 5:10; Acts 10:42). If he is judged and condemned for us, then that means that the Judge gives himself to be judged for us, in our place. …
The biblical doctrine of the atonement teaches that it is God who initiates and fulfills the reconciliation between sinful humanity and God. God is the subject, not the object, of what happened on Good Friday. God’s desire is not to crush us ‘dirty glasses’ with the hammer of God’s wrath so that we have to turn to Jesus to keep God from doing what God would like to do to us. Jesus is himself the coming of ‘God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved’ (1 Tim. 2:3-4). The death of Jesus for us is God’s own action to fulfill that desire. ‘All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ’ (2 Cor. 5:18). The doctrine of the atonement should awaken in us first of all not terror of God’s wrath but joyful thanksgiving for God’s love.
If the object lesson [with the glass] were to be similar in any way to what really happened, the preacher would have to put his own hand over the dirty glass to receive the blow of the hammer. He would have hurt himself, of course, but that is just how God executes God’s wrathful judgment.”
VEIN (veinband.bandcamp.com - i remembered that one)
The Bonus Army
Word For Word
LOOK THESE BANDS UP, especially Hammer Bros.
If I find the time I’ll be making another post WITH links.
They’re who I came up listening to, they’re why I am who I am today.
MVHC is much more than a scene that people talk shit about from time to time, it’s where I grew up and where I found my place in the world. I was doing shitty microsoft paint flyers(I’ll dig one up) for shows at Anchors Up in 2009. If I never did that I would have never combined my passion with drawing into hardcore. So shout out to hardcore, for putting me up with the most solid group of friends and the most solid direction in life.
Hardcore for life, go flyer your mall and get somebody else into this shit.
Cur saepe sicci parva rura Nomenti
Laremque villae sordidum petam, quaeris?
Nec cogitandi, Sparse, nec quiescendi
In urbe locus est pauperi. Negant vitam
Ludi magistri mane, nocte pistores,
Aerariorum marculi die toto;
Hinc otiosus sordidam quatit mensam
Neroniana nummularius massa,
Illinc balucis malleator Hispanae
Tritum nitenti fuste verberat saxum;
Nec turba cessat entheata Bellonae,
Nec fasciato naufragus loquax trunco,
A matre doctus nec rogare Iudaeus,
Nec sulphuratae lippus institor mercis.
Numerare pigri damna quis potest somni?
Dicet quot aera verberent manus urbis,
Cum secta Colcho Luna vapulat rhombo.
Tu, Sparse, nescis ista, nec potes scire,
Petilianis delicatus in regnis,
Cui plana summos despicit domus montes,
Et rus in urbe est vinitorque Romanus
Nec in Falerno colle maior autumnus,
Intraque limen latus essedo cursus,
Et in profundo somnus et quies nullis
Offensa linguis, nec dies nisi admissus.
Nos transeuntis nisus excitat turbae,
Et ad cubile Roma. Taedio fessis
Dormire quotiens libuit, imus ad villam.
“You ask why I often seek my little farm of dry Nomentum and the humble home of my estate? There is not a place in the city, Sparsus, for a poor man to think or find quiet. They deny life: the school teachers in the morning, the bakers at night, the hammers of the metal workers throughout the entire day; here the idle money changer strikes Neronian metal against a dirty table; there a hammerer of Spanish gold strikes a worn out rock with a shining cudgel; and the divinely inspired throng of the goddess Bellona does not cease, nor does the chatty shipwrecked sailor with his body covered in bandages, nor does the Jewish boy taught by his mother to beg, nor the blear-eyed peddler of sulphur goods. Who is able to account for the loss of truly sluggish sleep!? The poor man will relate how many hands in the city may strike the bronze when the Moon, having been eclipsed, reverberates with a Colchian reveling. You, Sparsus, are ignorant of these things; and you are not able to know of them: living in luxury in your Petilian realm, whose level villa overlooks the highest mountains; it is the country in the city; and a Roman vine-dresser––a yield not to be found greater on a Falernian hill––and within your dwelling an extensive track for two-wheeled chariots; and in a deep sleep and quiet having been disturbed by no tongues; and no daylight unless admitted. The pushing of the passing crowd wakes me, and all of Rome is at my bedside! Whenever, with worn out weariness, it is pleasing to sleep, I go to my estate.“