#the mice are being dealt with!

[nebquerna]

i found my sketchbooks!

#they were in a box full of.... used sketchbooks #makes sense #it was just buried in mouse poop and i havent been able to deal well #the mice are being dealt with! #but the fallout from that war is lots of mental scars ... #LMAO ANYWAYS #stenographes are back ON #stenograph #charbon

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Caught In His Web

Yandere Male Drider x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, painless/gentle noncon, venom, drugging, biting, light bondage, webbing, drider, spider-hybrid, oral sex, oviposition, dead animals wrapped in webbing, stalking, underwear sniffing, general yandere behavior. Word Count: 2.7k (A drider is technically an elf-spider formed as a punishment by Lolth, but this is just a human-spider hybrid with magic. Not technically a drider. But "spidertaur" just sounds off. Hope you enjoy, this was technically the first fic I started though I only resumed and finished it today)

You were an herbalist, you took plants and herbs from the wild fields, forests, and hills surrounding your small humble cottage. You expertly prepared the ingredients that you gathered and imbued them with the tiny bit of healing magic that you possessed. Magic in humans was very rare and your abilities and magical education were somewhat limited, but your potions, salves, ointments and remedies sold well enough in the town about six miles away on the other side of the forest.

Twice a month you made the journey there and back to sell your healing supplies. You made enough to survive on, and also enough to get you through the colder months when the healing plants you used did not grow. It was a modest life, but you were happy enough. Well, except for one thing... you were being followed...

At first, starting almost a year ago, you couldn’t get past the feeling that you were being watched from the shadows of the forest, occasionally you could swear you could catch glimpses of a large shape moving out of the corner of your eye or could hear something moving through the branches. You convinced yourself it was all in your imagination, or at least just some innocent woodland creature moving in the woods. For a month or so your denial was easy enough. You live by the forest, of course the animals must simply be getting more used to your non-threatening presence and getting a bit closer than they had previously. Everything was perfectly fine.

But then, about three months ago, things started to escalate. At first it was odd, but still explainable by the functions of nature. There were bundled up small dead animals bound in webbing left around in the places you most frequently gathered herbs and flowers. Okay, that is creepy, it must be some large spiders that are attracted to the birds and mice that are attracted to the insects drawn by the plants, perfectly normal and natural. You wish it would be perfectly normal and natural a bit farther away from you, but there was clearly nothing to worry about... except the fact that there are apparently a lot of spiders big enough to kill birds and mice in close proximity to you...

You could have dealt with the creepy large webs and the implied but unseen giant spiders, but then just a few days ago the bundles started being left on your porch for you to dispose of each morning. The webbed up animals were completely un-dessicated, killed and then just… left… A spider would not drop food for later in such an odd place. And what’s more the webbing now contained flowers woven into it, the flowers you most commonly used in your trade. No longer could you maintain any notions that the glimpses you saw from the forest, the noises you heard, and the web bundles were just coincidence.

The nearest humans lived too far away to keep up such a well maintained and menacing prank/threat, so you conclude that there must be some foul creature or malicious spirit that is stalking you. The past few days you were terrified and on the verge of freaking out, but you managed to maintain your calm composure. Besides, it has not escalated since then and today was the day that you went to the closest village to peddle your medical supplies, perhaps you could purchase some wards to protect yourself from spirits and talk to the local trappers, hunters, and elders to see if they know of anything dangerous lurking in the area.

You opened the door with a broom to sweep your doorstep, where you knew the web ball would be left. You shuddered as you swept it into the bushes and out of sight. So gross. You then went about your daily chores, and put the final touches on a last minute tincture. You put all your various vials, bottles, and other containers full of your merchandise into a large backpack that you put on before setting off on your way out the door and into the long path through the woods that would lead you to the village.

You started off at a brisk pace, there was no time to enjoy what would otherwise be a pleasant and leisurely stroll on a cool breezy day. You gripped the handle of the dagger in your belt tightly, in constant fear of what could potentially lurk just out of sight. You were paranoid and hyper fixated on watching the trees and path ahead for any possible signs of danger. So fixated that you completely neglected to watch where you were going. You did not notice a large bump in the path and tripped, you tried to get up but your ankle was sprained and you ended up flopping back over on your side.

This was bad, you were probably at least two miles into the forest unable to walk. Utterly helpless, with no more than a small dagger that in your inexperienced hands was mostly just for a false sense of security. But you couldn’t just lay here, you turned back towards the direction of your home and started ever so slowly dragging yourself.

You tried to do this as quietly as possible to not draw any attention to yourself, but you heard skittering and rustling in the bushes ahead of you.

Futilely, you hoped that it was just an animal or even the wind, but it wasn’t The being that had been lurking in the shadows and stoking your fears finally came forth.

A large drider came out of the trees. Like a centaur he was a creature that was human enough from the waist up but instead of a horse below that he was a giant white spider with black markings. From far enough away, and if the spider half were not in view, he could have easily been mistaken for a striking woman. His figure was slender and his hair was long and shimmered beautifully like silver in the rays of light that penetrated through the forest canopy.

But that is where the illusion ended for he had two fangs and four red eyes. He spoke in a cautious voice, as if trying to placate an animal that he feared may lash out.

“I’m Umzerth. I won’t hurt you, I promise.

You looked at him, trembling in dread and unable to take your eyes away as you scrambled backwards.

“Please no.” You repeated desperately in a frantic whisper.

The drider looked both concerned at your predicament and hurt by your reaction at seeing him.

“Please… darling… you’re hurt… just let me help you…”

“No, j-just stay back…”

“But your leg needs tending to my sweetling, I’ve never hurt you. I have proven I can take care of you by giving you all those plants you like. And food with them!”

“I am not interested in you taking care of me! Please just leave me alone… I have healing supplies with me…” Your voice faltered and it was clear that you were terrified of him.

Umzerth looked dejected, but he wasn’t going to give up. This was the first time he had properly met you and you were in pain. Surely you would accept him as your mate. He was so powerful and could take care of you. That’s what little humans wanted in a mate surely. He just had to calm you down and prove it.

The spider took a few tentative steps closer. You pulled your dagger from your belt and pointed it towards him. Your hand shook, more evidence of the fear coursing through you. He knew you’d never hold such a weapon to him if you were in your right mind. Maybe some of his venom would soothe you.

“Please put that away and let me help you sweetheart, my home is very close by. Your healing salves won’t work as fast as my methods will.”

You backed away a bit more, still holding up the dagger.

“I’ll take my chances.”

He moved with lightning speed and plucked the dagger from your hand, tossing it far away and out of sight. He spoke more forcefully.

“It would still take days to heal that foot. I can see the bruising from here. There are wild animals everywhere and I am not going to my beloved die out here because they were too damn stubborn.”

You cry out briefly as he bit down on your neck before an unnatural calm took your mind and your body went limp before fading into a relaxed sleep. His venom wasn’t at all deadly, not to humans, spiders, or driders. For a human it would merely give them a nice sleep. Which is exactly what you needed while he attended to your injury.

As you began stirring from your sleep you heard your name whispered. You woke to find your leg completely free of any pain, wrapped in silvery webbing. You could feel the thrum of magic within it. Much stronger than anything you could manage. Well… at least that proved he really wasn’t going to kill you.

“Are you feeling better, my little wild flower? I watched to make sure you slept well… I did take a break to catch you some food.”

The room you were in was unfamiliar, it looked to be a dwelling carved into stone. Likely at the base of the hills nearby. You were in a soft hammock made of silk. There was a wooden table next to you. Hand-carved. Umzerth apparently had grown accustomed to making his own furniture. Atop it lay a dead rat covered in webbing.

You recoiled at the sight.

“What’s wrong sweetling, it’s all predigested! You just have to bite and suck it out… don’t you like it?”

You didn’t say anything, but hopped up and bolted towards the exit. The ground was rough and cold on your bare feet, but you gave it no notice. You had to get away from this freak.

Umzerth caught you before you even reached the door.

“Let me go! I want to go home! Please!” You began sobbing and begging. Even if you were in no immediate danger he still frightened you. Thrust into a strange place with a terrifying creature and expected to eat… that… It was all too much.

“You ARE home my sweet flower!”

He caressed you oh so tenderly and claimed your lips with his own before setting you down on a cushioned chair that was far too small for him. Evidently he had prepared for your arrival for quite some time. Utterly disgusted with having been kissed by the monster, you wiped your lips.

“Are you upset with the food? Do humans not like that? I can learn to prepare human foods for you…”

He paced back and forth for a while with a nervous expression on his face, he wanted to make you happy and it was clear that you weren’t. How could he please you? He’d learn how to do that cooking thing he had watched humans do, but how could he make you like him more immediately?

Other than food that was to your liking hadn’t he provided everything a mate should? Shelter. Medical treatment.

Oh of course!

Sex!

You were being a whiny little human because you probably were desperate to copulate! He knew you were single since he had never seen another person at your dwelling, you probably hadn’t had a good dick like his in you in a long time, if ever.

You’d probably be all shy and bratty about it though. Natural first time jitters. He knew what would calm you down.

He scooped you up from the chair and, despite your struggles, gave your neck a little nip. Just a fraction of a full dose. You went limp again, but didn’t fall asleep this time. Your limbs felt too heavy and you felt really relaxed. You couldn’t muster the energy or will to fight anymore.

Umzerth gently placed you on a high stone shelf so that he was eye level with your crotch.

“I know just what you need to make you happy sweetling~”

You only groaned absently in response.

The drider gently peeled off your pants and underwear, taking it to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before placing it aside. The smell had him aroused in an instant. His erect cock poked out of a slit at his waist just below where his two halves met. Big and somewhat slimy.

He rubbed your soft thighs.

“Such a soft fragile thing.” He whispered.

He kissed up your thighs, occasionally giving them a careful nip, not enough to draw blood. He attended to you with a sloppy tongue and beneath the effects of his venom all you could feel was pleasure. You grinded into his face as you weakly stroked his hair, grabbing it harder when he brought you to climax.

He licked you clean as you shuddered.

“Ah, you fed me so well for worshiping at the altar between your thighs~”

You were even more relaxed now than when he had just bitten you, and just as powerless to resist. The spider picked you up carefully and shared another dominating kiss with you. This time sliding his tongue and brushing it against yours, smearing your taste buds with your very own flavor mixed with his saliva. A string of which connected your lips for a moment as he pulled away.

Then he held you as he positioned your body in front of his cock.

“Oh sweetling, you’ll look even prettier with a bellyful of my eggs~”

His words elicited just the smallest spark of worry in your envenomated mind, though it was quickly squashed when you felt his cock smear warm pre at your entrance. While holding you with one strong hand he slipped a finger in and out of you, slowly adding more one at a time.

Drooling and unable to articulate any thoughts, you moved back against his fingers.

At that he decided you were ready. He slipped his wet cock into you easily and with no pain at all, he had been very careful to make sure he pleasured his delicate flower.

He held you by your hips, gently rocking you back and forth along his shaft. You occasionally moaned softly. It felt so nice. So perfect. Like you were made just for this. Why had you been resisting again?

Umzerth started to go just a little harder, sure that his love could take it. With each thrust you let out a little gasp of pleasure. His cock fit itself into you beautifully, hitting every inch and making you feel full and sated in a way you never had before.

The fill of your shivering body as you had another climax pulled Umzerth over the edge with you. Powerful shudders racking the both of you in unison as his cock deposited small eggs deep inside you. Soft yet firm, they attached themselves to your insides. They would fertilize as they absorbed a bit of your DNA, then they’d fall out after a few days and then hatch a few weeks later.

Having deposited so many inside of his darling, your belly looked larger. He lay you in his web with him in the corner, rubbing your belly in awe. You smiled up at him and idly played with his soft hair.

“I’ll be back soon my love, I am going to get you something to eat.”

He wrapped you up in his webbing to keep you cozy before giving you a bit more venom to send you off into a short sleep. Then he covered the entrance to his den with his strongest webbing to make sure that you were completely safe while he was away. By the time you awoke he would have a good meal fit for any human. Then you would have nothing at all to be grumpy about.

This time he’d swipe a meal from the village, of course he’d leave them a gold coin in compensation since humans seemed to like those, and after that you could teach him!

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #my ocs #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere spidertaur #spidertaur x reader #yandere drider #drider x reader #My OCs #My OC Umzerth #yandere #male yandere

[marciabrady]

it's so funny to me that the princess our culture associates fundamentally with passivity offers credos which are among the most active and powerful of any in the fairytale canon

first and foremost, cinderella communicates that we all are what we contribute.

cinderella saves the mice and fosters an environment of collaboration, harmony, and unity that's harbored by her own industrious nature. mind you, she does all of this against her stepfamily's wishes, actively defying them, and creating a counterculture in the process.

as the story team intended the animals to be a reflection of their human counterpart, notice how cinderella's kindred are uniformly hardworking, intentionally kind, and approach every situation with their best foot forward, adapting a problem-solving mindset that collectively aids them all in their shared progression toward the betterment of themselves and the world around them. take the very first scene in which we see cinderella and the culture she's created, for instance:

everyone has a hand in the first chores of the day and they're all choosing to do it with a smile on their face. key word: choosing. because this isn't an idly happy lot whose joy is an accident of their own nature or something that's easy. their happiness is something they have to be mindful of and, in many cases, fight against themselves to achieve. because, guess what? their life is terrible. they've been reduced to living in a dusty attic room of a decaying house. many of them were saved from death by cinderella, herself, and know that if they venture too far outside of the safe quarters she's provided, or if they allow themselves to be seen in some way, they'll be back at death's doorstep. the danger and stress they live under would cause anyone to snap, or anyone to never want to get out of bed, which is why we see them looking like this in one of the most relatable openings of all time:

i mean, cinderella canonically hits the snooze button:

the birds literally have to force her to wake up, initially:

and once she does wake up, she's playful and pleasant and kind, yes. but that doesn't last long- the clock immediately tries her by reminding her of the daily toil she must face in order to maintain the food and shelter that's tantamount to, not only her own survival, but that of this tiny community that she's the unofficial mayor over and continues to be responsible for. she has to sustain herself and the others she's collected around her by choosing to live life the way she does. this kindness is something she has to pay for, every day. and she physically snarls at being reminded of the hand life's dealt her:

and you know what? that's a very human quality that everyone can identify with in some regard because it's hard, even if you are someone who loves life and the people around you, to keep going in spite of the challenges you face. being positive, plainly put, is something that's difficult and you have to keep reengaging yourself to be because it isn't a natural state for most people, and especially not people that have been treated as unkindly as cinderella. let's not forget that she lost both of her parents at a young, formative age, and from that time in her youth when, like all other children, she deserved to be supported and loved and protected, she was literally "abused, humiliated" and "forced" into being a literal "servant in her own house." she had no security- both of her parents were gone, she had no money to fall back on, no education, no means with which to leave the house, and to try to get a job in that world and environment- as unlikely as it would've been to obtain in the first place (which, again is so relatable- look at the staffing shortages and people struggling to find employment today)- would've been contingent upon references of some sort, and we all know that lady tremaine definitely would've either a) ran a smear campaign against cinderella to absolve herself and the family name of any personal fault or b) prevented cinderella from ever leaving in the first place so that no one would ever know that atrocities the tremaines forced her to endure from the time she was practically an infant.

she wakes up after barely being able to sleep, probably, due to all the daily chores she must, alone, accomplish to keep an entire estate afloat. everyone is depending on her, from the stepfamily to the mice to the grounds of her family's home itself. her body's practically aching from the lack of rest, the physical work she's forced to do every day, from sleeping on such an uncomfortable bed. the only place she feels remotely safe is in this drafty attic, which smells of fraying wood and aging artifacts and is in a constate state of decay, with weeds growing in the sides of the tower. that's not even mentioning the emotional turmoil, the ptsd, the grief, the neglect, the physical abuse she's also processing at any given moment

so, yeah, cinderella snaps. and there are times she snaps later on in the film but she always reels herself in and consciously makes the choice to never succumb to her circumstances. this is what makes cinderella extraordinary. she singlehandedly- and actively- ends the cycle of abuse through the behavior and choices she partakes in every single day.

and, again, this isn't something that's easy for someone who has been in survival mode for a majority of their life. but the conscious choices, active efforts, and mindful decisions cinderella makes is what frees the household from that cycle of abuse continuing. i mentioned earlier that the animals are supposed to be a parallel to their human counterparts. remember how we meet gus? he's just been caught in a trap, doesn't have anything to wear, and is literally recoiling in fear. due to his terror and his own need to defend himself out of instinct, he attempts to make himself come off as threatening as possible and is ready to pop off the minute that jaq approaches him:

but, through cinderella's influence, she's able to give him hope once more. she treats him warmly, pairs him up with a buddy to go through life with, comes up with a name- and even a nickname- for him, gives him a community, a safe haven, and clothes him. in that short time, look at the difference she's made in his mood, his demeanor, even his approach to life:

and it isn't just the mice cinderella's this way with. in the opening slides, we see cinderella holding an adorable puppy dog. but as the film progresses, and the narrator details the despair the family estate has fallen into, that puppy dog turns into an old, starved bloodhound who's secretly sleeping on the floor of the cold kitchen to keep from freezing to death. he has to keep even his dreams to himself so as to not be heard by the stepfamily and potentially kicked out. he openly hates lucifer but cinderella encourages him to think of lucifer's good points too, even if she can't think of any herself, to be able to continue successfully cohabiting this environment with him. and when he pounces on lucifer, deserved or not, she puts an end to this:

because cinderella knows what will ever happen if bruno allows himself to give into his impulses, to treat others as life has treated him, to attempt to retaliate in an impossible environment when the odds are already against you. you'll harm yourself the most and perpetuate that cycle.

but, just as bruno is a reflection of cinderella, notice how gleeful lucifer is in falsely incriminating bruno, so that another being who's never wronged him will be unjustly punished and suffer:

this is what separates cinderella from the tremaines. this is why she is the heroine and they will never be, despite how many people you see empathizing with how unfairly life must've treated them for being the "conventionally unattractive" characters in the film, or for having a single mother which to them denotes less resources, or for being awkward, or for whatever other reason of the month they're being rewritten to be the victims.

if we are the sum of our contributions, the tremaines are nothing and that is definitely a reflection of their reality. they only feel alive when they're making fun of cinderella or humiliating her by continuing that cycle of abuse they passively adhere to and never challenge. remember how we met cinderella and her friends, gathering their spirits and putting on a smile, despite how hard it is with the troubles that face them? how they look past that to work together and try to change life for the better?

the tremaines can't be bothered to get out of bed. the truly passive, lazy characters, they grog about in dim rooms, turning around in their fine silks and ornate finery, while a being they literally enslaved is being forced to do their bidding. and they refuse to actively participate in their very charmed and privileged life. they can't even find a reason to be happy- but instead are upset when cinderella enters their room. they want to know why she's taken so long, to hurry up, to continue to wait on them, hand and foot. when she asks them how they're doing, they grumble, "as if you care." because they don't care about anyone else, so why would others care about them? and that type of apathy breeds resentment, which- in the wake of such sedentary creatures- seeks manifestation and results in destruction. the stepsisters get out of their comfortable beds only when they have the opportunity to point their finger at cinderella, to get their mother to punish her. again, they feel alive by inflicting pain on others, it's literally what gets them out of bed:

again, as the parallel, this goes for lucifer, too:

as cinderella nears lady tremaine's bed, her stepmother's eyes blaze with fury, hatred plain on her face:

lady tremaine doesn't move, her hand only lifting to stroke lucifer, who has the biggest grin on his face. meanwhile, the desperation is evident in cinderella. she isn't quite defeated, because she does stick up for herself three times in the scene. but she's tired of this. she's tired of being tormented by her only family, of having the odds stacked against her even when she's doing everything in her power to live as peacefully and productively as possible, of being forced to fight a losing battle that will never result in peace but will only further prompt hatred, and division, and anger. in her expression, there's almost a plea for lady tremaine:

it isn't until she sees cinderella's expression, she hears cinderella try to explain what happened, that she livens up. because she has the opportunity to, again, keep that cycle of abuse alive, to actively try to destroy cinderella's quality of life and to profit off the position of power she's in over cinderella. look at the difference in lady tremaine's expression in the previous cap, and in this one, when she believes she's silenced cinderella and is preparing to tear into her:

one of the best instances through which i can further illustrate this ideology (you are what you contribute) is in a later scene, where we see the stepsisters discard their fine wares, labeling it trash and flinging the luxuries life's afforded them to scorn. it's nothing to them.

yet, to the mice and cinderella, it isn't nothing. because, remember, the royal proclamation declared that every eligible maiden should attend. at first, the stepmother refuses to let cinderella go and even the stepsisters brush her aside with classist comments. when cinderella sticks up for herself by reminding them she's still a member of the family, and by trapping them in the language of the royal decree "every eligible maiden," lady tremaine has no choice but to consent- on the grounds that cinderella is able to make herself eligible through producing a suitable dress. because, remember, cinderella isn't seen as a person. she's seen as subhuman, someone who's reduced to wearing tatters and isn't seen as a person in the eyes of their society unless she has social indicators of wealth via her clothing, in this specific instance. drizella and anastasia never have to think about that, because they exist as people of value in their society due to their good fortune that they had no part in creating. they don't know what it's like to be laughed at, to not be considered eligible or even a person in the eyes of society the way that cinderella's lived experience has reflected since her father died. meanwhile, the tremaines are so deep in their own privilege, that they're literally waving it around like it's a rag and carelessly tossing it away. yet, what does cinderella do, with much less?

cinderella makes do with what little she has, always to help someone else. and because of this active kindness, it changes the mindset of those around her. since she's afforded this to so many of the mice, what do they do for her in return?

what a difference in how cinderella and the stepfamily approaches what's, essentially, the same material? and this community that cinderella has established and continually maintained and influenced comes to each other's aid, time and time again. whether it's cinderella freeing the mice from death, or giving them clothing, or allowing bruno to sleep inside unbeknownst to the stepfamily, or the mice turning into a LITERAL army and battleground in cinderella's honor:

again, this community is just as active and vital as cinderella, herself, is. because those values i mentioned earlier, of helping one another and rising above your circumstances and working together, aren't just whimsical morals cinderella sings about. they're constant behaviors she's actively taking part in and impact the household they all share, to the point where when they help each other take action when the time is right. they're constantly conferring with one another on how to best use their community and the resources this offers to get closer to victory. (meanwhile, the stepfamily is only for themselves; anastasia and drizella literally repeatedly hit each other and compete, even to the point of giving conflicting stories to the grand duke that makes their pathetic attempt seem all the more discreditable at alleging they were the princess at the ball the night before) we see it in how cinderella and her friends accomplish their chores together, in how the mice plan to get her dress remade while she's busy, even in how cinderella's quick thinking leads to calling upon bruno, who must be awoken by the birds with an interjecting call from the horse, and how this leads to all of their escape:

because, this community also knows when it to fight and support one another in times of battle and when the goal will bring about a victory that will ultimately reign peace; they know when it's worth it for a shared goal and the benefit of all parties involved. and the difference cinderella brought into that household is what gave them all glory and helped them, not only survive, but succeed. it isn't just the poor scullery maid we see ascend in the closing chapter of the film. we see the same bluebirds who attempted to wake her up in the beginning of the film holding her wedding veil:

we see those same mice that she nursed from death, and clothed, and fed, and loved; the mice that risked their lives in remaking her deceased mother's dress so that cinderella might, too, have a chance to go to the ball; they're still here, cheering her on and throwing rice in blessing at the happy couple, their own clothing being upgraded to reflect that of the royal staff:

we see that starved bloodhound and the old horse leading the royal regiment, as beautiful and shining and proud as their majestic counterparts:

and this is the world that cinderella, as a character, offers. not a world in which multiple parties are at competition with one another over who's the prettiest, or the wealthiest, or where hatred breeds continual hatred. but she presents us a world in which everyone deserves to be seen, heard and valued; where everyone can find a community they can contribute to and have purpose in and be worthy of experiencing love, whatever you determine love to be whether it's romantic or in the form of a found family.

a world in which everyone can go to the ball:

#mine #marciabrady #cinderella #cinderella 1950 #this was supposed to be 2 credos but i got carried away #maybe i'll write the other one in a future installment #but ahhh it feels so nice to be back #*ahem* if you learned anything from this or were inspired please source or credit #creative larceny isn't cool!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Momma

Momma: You had fallen into the habit of feeding some stray kittens near your house in London, soon encounter a beautiful black tom cat. What’s the worst that could happen by befriending a tom cat and his passel of kittens?

Warnings: Meowpheus, Morpheus is in Love (And A Little Stalkerish in Cat Form).

To Note: Meowpheus x Female!Reader.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Morpheus was once again walking the streets of London in cat form, heading in the direction of a family of stray kittens that had been cruelly abandoned on the side of the road by humanity. His pitch back fur blended in easily with the shadows, enabling him to wind his way through the city with little to no attention drawn. Though one glance at him, and one might question the size of such a large house cat. The little pack of kittens he had happened upon by chance once day had all been scrawny things, undernourished with patchy hair. They had been so lost without the guidance of their parents, so Morpheus has stepped in. He had guided the kittens on how to safely survive on the streets, taught them how to feed themselves on mice and other rodents, and all around provided a comforting parental figure.

Then the little ones had started to gain more weight, their scrawny figures filling out so their weight was far more healthy then it had been. Morpheus had noted that there were little trays of water set out in the alley the kittens resided in, they were regularly refilled and cleaned. It was obvious that someone other then Morpheus had taken notice of the strays.

Morpheus padded his way into the back alley, and the moment the kittens spotted him, they all came charging over to him with chirps and meows of greeting. They all had gotten into the habit of calling him father, a notion that tugged on Morpheus’s heart as thoughts of his long dead son surfaced, but he couldn’t bear to tell them to stop. Not when they looked at him with such happiness and innocence. Morpheus walked himself over to a nice spot to stretch out and plopped his body down, enjoying watching the kittens wrestle with each other. They had been dealt a bad card, but it hadn’t affected their happiness. He was in the middle of carefully observing the two youngest rolling around, fighting over a bottle cap, when all six kittens froze in place and perked up. Morpheus himself twitched an ear at the sound of incoming feet. Seconds later all six kittens were scrambling in the direction of the far side of the alley, their little voices echoing the same word, over and over. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma.

Morpheus saw feet appear, and lifting a lazy but attentive blue eye, he watch as you made your way down the alley, the kittens all running towards you with cries of happiness. You stopped short to avoid stepping on the kittens circling your legs, and as they further cried up at you with repeated ‘Momma’, you bent down, setting the box you held aside and and stroked their heads with a giggle. The youngest of the kittens rose up on his back legs and pressed his claws into your stocking covered knee. You ignored the pinpricks of pain the kitten claws gave your skin and chuckled at the kitten demanding your full attention.

“It’s lovely to see you too, little one,” You spoke softly, your voice just barely traveling across the alleyway. More kittens started pawing at your legs, ripping into your stockings. You gently started peeling the mewling kittens off your legs and reached into the cardboard box you had been carrying. Your hands pulled out a stack of metal bowls and you carefully started setting them down, one after another, right in a row. Morpheus eyed the bowls, now understanding that you were the reason that the kittens were doing so well now. You had been feeding and caring for them. The kittens were being extra loud now, boisterous even, as you started scooping kibble into each of the dishes. It was amusing to watch as the kittens devoured the foot you gave them with the gusto of a fully grown cat. You were pacing away the plastic container of kibble when you finally noticed Morpheus.

He hadn’t moved from his lounging spot, bright blue eyes watching you ever so carefully. You adjusted were your squatted, a frown appearing on your face.

“Oh, I didn’t notice you,” You quietly commented, your head tilting to the side. Your frown deepened as you looked at the container of kitten kibble. “I only have kitten kibble but you’re clearly an adult… I’m sure it makes no difference to you.” You wished to offer him food? Morpheus had no need for sustenance, and anything you offer to him was better spent on the little ones. You stayed long enough to let the kittens finish their meals and pack away their metal bowls. When you were lifting your box up, you gave Morpheus one last look. The kittens had returned to him, their bellies full, and were content to pile up for a nap around him. It was a very familial sight. “They’re lucky to have you, I’m afraid I can only do so much for them as a human.”

It was week three of you stopping by the alley after work to feed the kittens, and Morpheus had gotten to know your weekly habits well by following you around in his cat form. He had even dipped into your dreams when you slept at night to get a better picture of what your hopes and dreams were. You were an unusually kind human and the sparkle that glowed in your eyes when you visited the kittens had taken the Endless’s heart captive. His interest in you had finally led him to follow you home this night. You were oblivious to your follower, that is until Morpheus had hopped up onto the stone wall that ran in-between your cottage and the neighboring one, and you checked your postbox. You blinked in confusion as Morpheus sat on the wall and stared at you, his tail swishing around lightly.

“Well hello, handsome,” You spoke with that lovely smile of yours. In the last couple of weeks, the older cat that had been a regular in the alley had taken more interest in you and even let you pet silky black fur. You weren’t sure if he was the kitten’s father, but he sure acted like it. The cat blinked at you and sniffed the air, you looked down at your work blouse. “Do I smell bad? My coworker wore an ungodly amount of cologne today and I swear the entire floor could smell it. It’s going to take weeks for it to dissipate.” Your nose scrunched in distaste and you offered your fingers to him. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to even touch me, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.”

Morpheus could agree that the stench of cologne was quite repellent… but he could smell your own sweet scent beneath the noxious notes of the male coworker. You never smelled bad, even after a bad day. So he stretched his neck out and brushed his cheeks across your fingers, marking them with his scent in a territorial way. He could defend his actions by simply stating that he was acting as a cat should… his own territorial desires aside. You finished getting your post and dug out the key to your flat, glancing at the cat once more.

“Would you like to come in?” You offered to the obsidian feline. “You’ve proven to be quite the company, Mr.” Morpheus would gladly follow you into your home to spend just a few minutes more with you. So he nimbly jumped down from the stone wall and trotted after you as you opened your front door. Morpheus didn’t need any direction in your home, he knew the footprint of your flat quite well after watching you piddle around through the window of your kitchen. So he trotted through the front hall to your kitchen and jumped up into the spare chair at the table. You came walking in, riffling through your mail and muttering under your breath. “Be glad you are a cat, Handsome, because junk mail is the worst.” You slapped the stack on the table and went to turn the kettle on for tea.

You further rambled about your day at work to Morpheus, who had learned that you had a coworker who consistently harassed the female staff on your floor, someone who repeatedly stole lunches from the communal fridge, and the worker in the next cubical over tended to play their music a touch too loudly at the worst of times. Morpheus often wondered why you stayed at your job in the first place since it gave you much grief, not to mention overtime… you often came to the alley looking rundown and in need of a good rest. By the time you were sipping your tea at the table, you looked worse for wear. You fell asleep at the table that night, Morpheus calmly watching over you.

You had beaten Morpheus to the kittens this night, but unlike your usual routine, you were far from smiling and giggling. No, you were hunched over in place, ignoring the London rain flooding downwards from the sky. You were soaked, shivering, and very much obviously upset. Morpheus didn’t like that. Rather than approach you in cat form like he had the past five months, he shifted into his human form and slowly approached you. You were oblivious to him until a coat was draping around your trembling and wet shoulders.

You jerked in place slightly when the fabric was placed around your shoulders and looking up, you saw than inhumanely beautiful man. It was his coat around your shoulders… but you were wet, dirty! You went to remove the warm and fancy material from your shoulders. He stopped you with a voice that was hypnotizing.

“I believe you have more use for my coat that this moment.” Morpheus spoke to you as his eyes stared into your red and puffy face. You had been crying and the mascara and eyeliner had ran. You sniffed and wiped at your cheek.

“That’s kind of you, thank you,” You whispered out, your fingers curling into the jacket. It was unbelievably warm and dissipated the chill that had set within your bones since you had marched your ass out of your work— no, that wasn’t right, you had quit before you got fired for smacking the shit out of your now former coworker. One of the kittens mewed and stood up on its hind legs, balancing on your shin as it stared at you with its big and innocent little eyes. “Today has not been my day I fear.”

Morpheus blinked and tilted his head to the side. Oh today was most definitely not your day. He had never seen you so worn down your upset. A few of the kittens marched over to Morpheus and started demanding his attention. Father. Father. Father. Father. Father. Morpheus joined you in your crouch, giving the demanding attention.

“I’ve never seen you before but the kittens seem to be familiar with you,” You softly commented as the youngest started batting at your fingers, playing with them. Morpheus gazed at your with a soft smile.

“I visit periodically,” He explained simply. “Today I decided to change my schedule.” You hummed before looking around for the silky black tom cat.

“There’s usually a gorgeous black tom cat hanging around,” You commented, teasing a kitten with a twirl of your fingers. “I think he’s their father or at least guardian. It’s strange that he’s not here today.”

“I’m sure he is close by,” Morpheus reassured you, knowing that you were rather fond of his cat visits and proclivity to follow you home. “Forgive me for prying, but it appears that you are in distress.” You sniffed again and wiped your nose with the back of your hand with a strained chuckle.

“Oh, yeah, kind of.” You started, tilting your head back to look up at the stormy skies overhead. “So… I punched my coworker today because I couldn’t take his sexual harassment of my friend anymore and then subsequently quit my job so I didn’t get fired and I don’t regret anything because the hours and pay sucked and my coworkers looked at me like I was their hero but now I’m out of a job and it sucks and—“ You stopped mid word vomit. “Sorry I didn’t mean to dump that all on you.”

“I doubt it would have done you any good to keep that bottled up.” Morpheus gently told you, secretly glad you had finally quit that horrid job of yours. You deserved so much better. A few of the kittens got into a fight a few feet from you, and standing up, you quickly stepped over to break them apart.

“Oh you naughty little ones, you aren’t supposed to be fighting with each other!” You chided them as you placed them back on the ground. “Stop picking on each other.” Morpheus couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you chiding the little ones like you were exactly what they thought you were. Their momma.

“You are quite gentle with them, do you have any of your own?” Morpheus asked while rising to his feet. He knew the answer but wanting to extend the conversation for as long as he could. You shook your head and wrapped his coat further around your shivering body.

“No, I— well I suppose my job kept be so busy with work I thought it wouldn’t be fair to keep an animal at home always waiting for me, so no, I don’t have pets of my own.” You sighed softly and and looked at the mystery man. “I probably wouldn’t be a very good parent.” You thought you would be a bad parent? After everything you had done for the little ones?

“I wouldn’t say that,” Morpheus answered, looking down at you wrapped up in his coat. “You are taking care of these little ones quite well.” You flushed under his praise and looked down at the jacket you wore around your shoulders. At times you could have sworn that you saw stars glimmering on the silken underside of the jacket. Then you remembered that if you were wearing his coat to protect you from the rain, what was protecting him? You went to remove the coat once more, his hands were physically stopping you. “I have business to attend to and I should not like to leave you here in the rain unprotected.”

Why couldn’t all men be as kind and considerate as him? You sighed in resignation and nodded.

“Okay,” You agreed before glancing over your shoulder to the direction your house was in. “But I would feel bad if I leave you without your jack—“ When you turned back around he was gone. “et…” You trailed off as the kittens repeatedly meowed and pawed at your ankles. “Oh I do hope I see you again because this jacket feels like it cost a fortune.” You hummed with a sigh. Then, like a little burst of sunshine, a silky black cat emerged from the shadows of a nearby building. You darted over with a wide smile.

“You’re here!” You exclaimed, crouching down in front of the tom cat and stroking his head with your free hand. He purred and bumped his head against your palm. Handsome, as you had taken to calling him, eagerly wound around in figure eights in front of you, purring loudly and rubbing every bit of his cheeks against your cold fingers. “We had a visitor here today,” You softly explained as the kittens came scrambling over and wove themselves around you and Handsome, loud and cheerful. “He left without his jacket though,” you looked down at the dark material encompassing your shoulders.

Thinking about what the man had said, you look down at the little kittens and decided right there in the rain to change their futures. Looking at the box that had the cat food and dishes, you reached for the kittens one at a time and placed them within the box. In no time, you had all of them safely tucked away with Handsome sitting calmly next to you, blinking at you with his incredible blue eyes. You then noticed they were strikingly similar in color to the mystery man’s. It was a very beautiful blue color that shimmered with stars. How odd that they had matching eyes. Never mind that, you needed to get these kittens taken are of.

“Alright then, let’s get the little ones home, yes?” You questioned Handsome, picking up the box with the mewling kittens. As you headed home, he followed you step in step, quite pleased that you had a smile on your face once more.  The kittens had quieted by the time you were backing into your house, letting Handsome trot ahead of you. Kicking the door shut behind you, you headed straight for the bathroom. If you were going to let the little ones stay with you for now, they were going to need a bath.

“Well that was chaos,” You murmured tiredly from where you sat at your kitchen table, Handsome sitting on the tabletop next to you. He head butted your arm and purred loudly. You chuckled and scratched him under the chin. “I think the little ones have exhausted themselves, thank god for that because I don’t know if I would been able to keep up with them running around my feet.”

Morpheus agreed. The little kittens had exhausted themselves after you had bathed them clean of the street and rain. Now they slept in your bathtub on a bed of towels you had thrown into your dryer while you bathed them. They hadn’t moved since you put them there.

Your tired eyes glanced at the black jacket you had neatly folded over your spare dining chair. You hoped that you would run into the mystery man in that alley once more, you needed to return his jacket. Which you were now sure that stars glimmered in the lining. It was strange and beautiful at the same time. Sighing, you pushed back from your seat and stretched your tired limbs. It was late, you were tired, and you really needed to get some quality sleep after the day you had. So, standing up from your seat, you walked over to your front door and opened it to let the tom cat out for the night.

The black tom cat just blinked at you from where he sat on the table, not the least bit interested in leaving.

“Oh come on, Handsome,” You coaxed. “I hardly think you’ll want to spend the entire night in my house. Not after being a street cat. Come on, out you go because I am tired and need to go to bed.” He didn’t budge. You sighed again and gestured to the door. “Handsome,” you cooed softly, Morpheus started purring, your silky voice like a drug to him. “If you don’t want to spent the night here, you need to leave.”

Morpheus jumped down from your table, but rather than trot over to you and leave, he padded his way over to the door to your bedroom and sat in front of it. Then he looked back at you, his silver blue eyes twinkling. Oh were you really going to give in to the demand of a street cat? Decidedly so. You shut and locked your door before heading back to your bathroom. The kittens were still knocked out in the bathtub, and they had access the makeshift litter box you made and to the water bowl. They would be fine until morning.

“Alright, Handsome, let’s get ready for bed, shall we?” You asked as you opened your bedroom door and let the demanding cat into your room. He strut in like he owned the place and jumped up onto your nightstand. While you changed into your pajamas, Morpheus sniffed the clock on the nightstand and the picture of you with another woman. She looked like an older version of you. When you pulled your shirt over your head and undid your bra, Morpheus, at the very least, turned his head to give you privacy. You were oblivious of course, but certainly deserved his respect.

Dressed in your sleep clothes, you turned the lights off and climbed into your bed. Morpheus jumped onto your bed and then boldy sat directly on your chest, staring directly into your eyes.

“You’re not sleeping there,” You told him, reaching up and stroking his face once more. “No matter how handsome you are Handsome.” Morpheus purred and pushed his face further against your touch. In truth he had become addicted to your company and wished for more than just your touches when he was a cat. He wanted to woo you, court you, wanted to sweep you off your feet, in his human form. It was a good thing he had made sure to leave while you still had his coat. It gave him a reason to see you again.

You pulled him off your chest and rolled onto your side, tucking him against your chest so you could feel the warmth and vibrations from his body.

“When the weather clears up, I think I will go in search of my mystery man.” You murmured, your fingers running along Morpheus’s back. Morpheus was pleased by your words and snuggled himself into your side.

You had your mystery man’s jacket draped over your arm as you walked down the damp street in London. The rain had finally ceased its downpour and you were taking this chance to visit the alley once more. Turning down it, you felt that the alley wasn’t the same without the tiny yet powerful mewling of the kittens. But they were in better homes now, having been homed to families and friends you knew would take good care of them.

Looking around at the old alley, you smiled at the memories you remembered making with the little ones. They had left little scratch marks in places, soft little gorges from the stone that would forever remain in memory. Overhead you herd the call of a bird and glancing up, you saw a large raven perched on the gutter of a nearby building. You were quickly distracted by movement to your right, and to your delight it was your mystery man. His startlingly blue eyes met yours and he smiled. You glanced down at the folded coat in your hands before looking back up.

“I believe I have something of yours to return.”

Date Published: 4/27/23

Last Edit: 4/27/23

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream the endless x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream the endless #the sandman netflix #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman

[five-and-dimes]

Safe in the Palm of Your Hand

Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Dream of the Endless.

Lord Shaper.

For Dream, his body is not always a fixed thing. He would even go so far as to say that most of the time it is not a fixed thing. He is sand, so many countless pieces shifting under the lightest winds and the softest touches. His form changes based on how others see him, on how he sees himself, on how those two expectations interact, on whether one is stronger than the other or if a reasonable middle can be found.

Sometimes, though, he is sand in an hourglass (impenetrable glass, no wind, no air, no gentle touch to guide his form, motionless, frozen in his helplessness) and he doesn’t feel solid, he feels fragile. Breakable. Like the same soft touch and gentle wind will shatter him. In those moments, his expectations of himself will always outweigh anybody else’s.

And it is such today. His status as an Endless does not protect him from his own nightmares, not when they are his own memories, and on this day his body feels wrong. He does not feel like an Endless. He does not feel like a king, or a lord, or a person. Even months after escaping the Burgess Mansion, after regaining his power and repairing his realm, even now, he finds himself feeling… small. His form shudders and shivers and he feels weak, he feels like a vermin to be caught, a prey to be hunted and devoured, he feels dirty, unwanted, unloved, unsafe, small, small, small-

There is a mouse in Hob’s apartment.

He almost didn’t see it, was only alerted to something being amiss by the soft, frightened squeak when he opened his front door. Turning his head, he caught just a glimpse of a small shadow darting behind the old armchair in the corner. Closing the door behind him, Hob hums in surprise. Living above a pub, he’s never dealt with mice or other creatures in his home, most being more attracted to the kitchen and trash cans on the first floor before stumbling into the catch-and-release traps set around the property.

Sighing, he lets his bag fall from his shoulder onto the floor, resigned to his new task for the night. He can finish grading in the morning, once he’s dealt with his unexpected guest. Over the centuries he’s managed to overcome the instinctual disgust and fear at the sight of rodents, but that doesn’t mean he wants one running around his apartment. For a moment, he considers going back downstairs to get one of the traps from the kitchen, but he doesn’t want to give the small creature a chance to hide deeper in the apartment. Besides, he’s wily- he’s certain he can herd the mouse into a box and get it outside himself no problem.

There is a box next to the coffee table in the center of the room, full of papers and documents he’s been procrastinating on organizing, and he casually dumps the contents onto the floor as he approaches the armchair. He keeps his footsteps soft and slow, hoping not to spook the mouse into bolting. So far though, Hob hasn’t seen it since it darted into the corner. Kneeling carefully, he positions the box on its side in front of him, reaching out to move the chair to one side in an attempt to give the mouse only one direction to run.

The mouse doesn’t run.

Hob can’t help but furrow his brows sadly once he’s able to see it, huddled as far in the corner as it can get. For a moment he feels his heart clench in a way he doesn’t fully understand, something more than just general compassion for a small creature, and then he gasps as he realizes what he is looking at.

Two bright points of light emit from the mouse’s eyes.

“...Dream?” The name is less than a whisper on Hob’s breath.

He doesn’t receive an answer, but he doesn’t need one.

Since the stranger's delayed return, he and Hob had seen each other several times, a surprising change in their relationship that Hob welcomed with open arms. After so many years, Hob was finally given answers to some of his countless questions, including a name, and a summary of what exactly his friend is. Dream had even been generous enough to visit Hob in his dreams once, and Hob still gets flutters in his stomach when he thinks of the bright stars of Dream's eyes.

The box is quickly tossed aside and he crouches down farther. Dream had explained to him during one of their recent meetings that he was able to shapeshift (his explanation was far more detailed and complicated than that, but shapeshifting was the closest Hob's human mind could get to understanding) and his heart cracks in his chest as he takes in the sight of his friend in a form he has never seen before; has never even imagined in relation to the Endless being.

Pitch black fur contrasts the bright white of his eyes, but the fur looks matted and thin, tiny ribs peeking under the skin, and he doesn’t know if mice can cry, but the fur looks wet and clumped around the eyes. A long thin tail is sickly pale, and Hob can see him trembling even through the rapid rise and fall of the tiny chest.

Dream is always so strong and untouchable in Hob’s mind, it’s jarring to see him so small and clearly frightened. He doesn’t know what happened- why Dream is in this form, why he’s here, but Hob doesn’t think there’s a force on Earth or off it that could stop him from reaching out to comfort.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he keeps his voice soft and gentle, afraid of frightening him further. Afraid of hurting the small, fragile ears. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you, you’re alright,” slowly, so slowly, Hob cups his hands and lowers them to the ground before his friend, “you’re safe here, can you come out? I just want to help.”

Still no response, unless you count Hob’s heart breaking more each moment he watches the mouse shake and shiver in the corner. Part of him wonders if he should leave Dream alone, but it feels too cruel, and Hob has always been one to trust his instincts when it comes to matters of the heart. And so, taking a deep, steadying breath, he cautiously moves to gently scoop the mouse into his palms.

It hurts more than he expected to actually feel tiny trembling paws against his skin, but Dream doesn’t run. In fact, he turns jerkily and tucks his little face against Hob’s fingers, curling into a ball as if trying to hide. He lets out a soft shushing sound, bringing his hands to his chest, cradling the mouse against his chest and making a shelter with his hands.

Dream isn't sure how he got here either.

He had been feeling off kilter for days now, the weight that lived in his chest feeling more unbearable than usual. More and more he found his surroundings reacting to him; walls closing in and curving, clothes growing thinner and thinner, air becoming frigid and still. His lungs felt tight, desperate for breath he didn't need, and then he caught his reflection and the glass shattered in response and he heard someone yell, maybe worried, maybe angry, angry, angry, and then he was gone.

When he lands, he knows he's in a new form, but he can't focus on it, too scared in a primal way he can't identify. All he wants is to hide, it's all his mind can hold on to, so when he hears a door open he runs. If he can just stay hidden, if he just avoids capture, maybe he'll be able to pull himself together. But when he is found, his terror and sorrow are so great he freezes. He thinks he recognizes the man in front of him, even if he looks different being so much larger than him, but it doesn't matter. It doesn’t ease his fear, his grief, his hopelessness. Dirty, unwanted, unloved, unsafe.

Dream feels small. Dream is small. So small and easy to hurt. He thinks maybe he always has been.

But…

But the hands don't crush him. He is lifted slowly and then he finds himself… held. Not held down, not trapped, not caged. Even as one hand folds above him, there is no tension, and Dream feels certain he could escape if he wished too.

He does not wish to.

Hob's hands are warm, so warm, and soft, and nothing like the cold hard glass of his memories. Dream finds himself curling up as he is cradled against his chest, soft fabric covering a strong chest that doesn't scare him as much as it did a minute ago. Cupped against him like this, he feels ensconced in a gentle cave, the shadows beneath his hands a welcome peace against the thought of a hundred years of harsh light keeping him on display.

Slowly, his trembling body stills, curling up tighter and soaking in the warmth.

"There you are," Hob coos, sitting on the couch, ever careful of his precious cargo. It is a great honor, he thinks, to hold an Endless in the palm of your hands. To be tasked with protecting something so valuable. Cautiously, he lays down, smiling as he sees the mouse curl deeper into his sweater, resting right over his heart. Hob keeps one hand cradling him, and brings the other up to pillow his own head against the arm of the couch. "Sorry if I scared you earlier," he keeps his voice low, "wasn't expecting company. But I meant it when I said you're always welcome. I'm glad you came to me."

Hesitantly, he moves one thumb to carefully stroke the matted black fur of Dream's back. It almost looks like the mouse sighs, relaxing even further, and Hob grins.

Continuing his gentle petting, Hob does what he does best.

He talks.

He tells the little dream mouse about the annoying staff meeting he had, and his favorite and least favorite coworkers, and one of his friends who wanted Hob to start a karaoke night at the New Inn, and how he thinks in his next life he wants to buy a fixer-upper and do as much as he can with his own hands. He tells Dream the little mundane things that have made Hob think of him, and how he wants Dream to get a phone but he thinks his head would explode if Dream ever sent an emoji.

He talks, and the mouse relaxes more and more, no longer curled desperately tight, but burrowing comfortably into him, and Dream thinks that maybe being small isn't as scary anymore if it means he can feel Hob's heartbeat drum against his entire body.

Eventually, Hob's hand goes limp above him, draped over Dream's form like a weighted blanket, as Hob talks himself to sleep.

Dream is still small. Still fragile. But he is surrounded by Hob Gadling, by his warmth and his compassion and his love, and he realizes that all he wanted was to feel safe, and Hob managed to give him that and so much more.

When Hob awakes, it is to the sun shining through his living room window and Dream, his familiar, gangly, human-shaped Dream, laying across him with his head on his chest. Hob's hand is resting on his wild black hair, as gentle with him now as he was the night before.

"Hi," Hob's voice cracks lightly as he wakes, but his grin is wide and bright when Dream turns to look at him.

"Hello."

They'll talk about it, later, after Hob has stretched the kinks out of his neck and has used his puppy eyes to convince Dream to eat some breakfast. Later, Hob will hold his hand and let Dream tell him fragmented details of where he's been this past century, of what was done to him. He'll stroke Dream's back when he seems to shrink, stuttering and stumbling over words about how who he wants to be and who he's supposed to be and who he's been turned into all cut into who he is like broken glass. Dream will speak a lot about broken glass. Dream will speak a lot about being broken. Later, Hob will hold him and tell him that being hurt is not the same as being broken.

Later.

For now, Hob just smiles and gathers Dream in his arms, letting him rest his head back down to listen to his immortal heartbeat, happy for the heavy weight against his chest.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dreamling fic #dreamling #hob gadling #my writing #pre-dreamling #I guess lol #first Sandman fic be gentle with me #probably a silly idea but I couldn't get it out of my head #you've heard of meowpheus #not get ready for #mousepheus #yes I will be drawing sad mouse Dream being cuddled by Hob eventually

[unpretty]

hello if it's not too much trouble could we perhaps have some tubby updates?

her eye had something weird going on with it (looked like it was filming out from one corner?) but it cleared up on its own before our vet visit. the vet said her eyes look clear and healthy now so i look like a crazy person since i was the only one to notice and fret extensively about her eye. we made the mistake of trying to switch her to Literally Any Food Except Crave™ again (this time because no stores had any for a while) and she once again started peeing blood. we're getting it tested anyway to make sure nothing else is wrong, but mostly switching back to Crave and hoping that fixes it. she's got a painkiller now but for a while dealt with the discomfort by sitting on mom's towels to pee. this was, as you can imagine, not ideal. she's figured out that the best way to get attention is to infuse her meows with so much anguish it sounds like she's being murdered.

she is also, as always, a fluffy baby that loves to snuggle and kill mice

#original #i might have posted that pic already but oh well

[noxthesleepymoodyoverthinker]

Thinking of the Disney Cinderella Timeline

Here's how I think the Cinderella Disney animated movies are supposed to be viewed -- or basically, how it might have happened in linear time in the Disney Cinderella universe:

First, there's "Cinderella", of course. The one where she meets the Fairy Godmother for the first time and gets a lovely gown and glass slippers to go to a ball.

Then it's Cinderella 2's story "Aim to Please". And it makes sense, as it's clearly stated that the Prince and Cinderella have just returned to the palace after their marriage -- the marriage that happened at the end of the first movie -- before the Prince is whisked off by his father to attend to "Important Matters Of State". So of course that's what happened next.

After that, I'm guessing that "Tall Tail" happened sometime the same year Cinderella started taking over Princess Duties.

Because she says, "We sure have a lot of parties around here," indicating that the Banquet she dealt with in "Aim to Please" was likely not too far in the past. Or else, she's had a lot of parties to plan since then.

Now the next story is what is important. I think "Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time" happened next, not "An Uncommon Romance".

And then, after what happened in "A Twist in Time", with Anastasia not giving in to Lady Tremaine's scheme in the end, and the Prince and Cinderella marrying again, and them continuing to live their lives again...

After all that is likely when "An Uncommon Romance" happened.

So the actual order is: Cinderella, Aim to Please, Tall Tail, A Twist in Time, and An Uncommon Romance.

Let me justify this idea:

First of all, in Cinderella 2, the mice were bringing up random stories they remembered. Except for the first story, where it's clearly stated that it happened right after the married couple returned and Cinderella was officially a princess, the other 2 stories could have happened at any time at all. (We don't know when the mice are writing these stories, after all. How many years it's been, or how much time has passed. We only know that they're writing stuff that's already happened.)

Secondly, look at the state of Cinderella's old house in "A Twist in Time". It's awful and the stepsisters are basically given the tasks of cleaning the large house.

And this actually fits with the first movie, which mentions at the beginning that the chateau was falling into disrepair as Lady Tremaine squandered all their riches on Anastasia and Drizella.

Basically, Cinderella being a servant was all that was keeping the house together. And after she left with the Prince, the state of the house obviously got worse.

But look at how the house looks in "An Uncommon Romance".

I didn't notice this the first time I watched Cinderella 2. But I certainly noticed after watching Cinderella 3.

But, the house falling into a further bad state makes sense since the house was already not maintained by anyone other than Cinderella at the very beginning of her story.

So here's my theory:

After Cinderella was taken to the palace by the Grand Duke, she likely put her family right out of her mind. And that makes sense. She's not vindictive at all. But after being treated as she was, keeping them far away from her and never turning in their direction again makes sense. If nothing else, she lays no claim to her house even though it was rightfully hers and she has been maintaining it for years. She just leaves them be and never interacts with them again.

But after the events of "A Twist in Time", while Lady Tremaine is a world-class b**** and horror, Cinderella, with her kind heart, and perfectly aware of how awful Lady Tremaine can be, likey decided that paying for the house's upkeep and inviting her stepsisters to balls might be necessary.

For one, she likely feels sorry for Anastasia, while also understanding how much courage it must have taken her to go against her mother. She also likely figured that Drizella was in the same position as Anastasia, even if she didn't show it or realize it. Finally, after Anastasia defied her mother in such a way, keeping an eye on them in general might have been necessary to ensure that she didn't mistreat Anastasia.

So, as generous as she is, Cinderella likely put aside her step-family's awful treatment of her to help her step-sisters (and to also likely keep an eye on her step-mother too).

This is further supported by the fact that, in "An Uncommon Romance", Anastasia has a music box with a couple that looks like the Prince and Cinderella. I doubt Lady Tremaine, as vindictive, malicious, and jealous as she is, would have let her have that -- unless she was now living under Cinderella's power.

Lady Tremaine even mentions them going to Cinderella's Ball. Yet another thing I doubt she would have let her daughters go to -- unless snubbing Cinderella that way would be pointedly "not good" for her.

Yet another point was how, when Lady Tremaine finds Anastasia and the Baker together, while berating her and also manipulating her by saying that she only has her best interests at heart, she says nothing more when Anastasia declares that she is going to Cinderella's ball together with the Baker. No declarations of disowning her. No further manipulations or arguments or forbiddances. Like mentioning Cinderella's name and her ball left her with no option but to stalk away while just ordering Drizella to come with her. Like the only thing she could do now was to assert control over the one remaining daughter she still could control.

Very different from the woman in "A Twist in Time" who spelled the Prince's memories when he recognized that Anastasia was not the girl he had danced with at the ball.

Very different from the woman who sent spells right and left when Anastasia refused to marry the Prince in the end.

Rather, she held back probably because she knew she would land in hot water if she tried anything. Something was likely holding her in check: The fact that she was basically under probation and lucky to roam free now after attempting treason and murder in Cinderella 3.

Anastasia's reaction is also telling: She is cowed and sad as her mother and Drizella berate her. But the moment her mother says, in a seemingly kind way, that she only has her best interests at heart, it's like a switch flips in Anastasia. And that's when she declares she's wrong and that she IS going to go with the Baker whether she likes it or not.

It wouldn't be surprising if Anastasia heard her having "her best interests at heart" and remembered how her mother had tried to turn the wand on her when she had not married the Prince and instead said that she wanted someone to love her for herself.

And that, in fact, it was Cinderella who had stood up for her to protect her, and the Prince who had deflected the spell to protect Cinderella.

And finally, at the end of "A Twist in Time", the credits scene almost immediately shows the Baker meeting Anastasia. Which we know happens in "An Uncommon Romance". So "An Uncommon Romance" likely happens after the events of "A Twist in Time".

[ On another note, it really is more poignant when Anastasia tells Cinderella at the end of An Uncommon Romance, "Oh, thank you, thank you! I never dreamed I could be this happy!" and hugs her half-sobbing. Because, in A Twist in Time, she tells Cinderella, "I want what you had," and then, at the end, desperately tells her mother, "I want someone who loves me for me." And Anastasia gets that here. :) ]

#disney's cinderella #disnerd #disney movies #disney #cinderella #cinderella 2 #cinderella 2: dreams come true #cinderella 2 an uncommon romance #an uncommon romance #tall tail #aim to please #cinderella 2 tall tail #cinderella 2 aim to please #cinderella 3 #cinderella 3: A Twist In Time #anastasia #anastasia tremaine #anastasia and the baker #drizella tremaine #lady tremaine #the baker #the prince #timeline of Disney's Cinderella #I spent a lot of time thinking of this #disney animation #movie analysis #animation #2d animation

[hawkeyedflame]

I've seen your posts on veganism, and you being a biologist makes me feel ok to ask this! I am not vegan, but I've dealt with a lot of pressure and guilt to become one from them, and it never works for me at all. However, because I'm super passionate about conservation, especially stopping deforestation, i have had MORE pressure than usual to go vegan for the planet, under some guise that this was what would help. When reading about it, a lot said cattle farming causes a lot of deforestation, and making native species there go extinct. Obviously I'm against that, but I don't want to go vegan. I've tried. I cannot. But a lot of people say it isn't possible to be a conservationist and care for the planet and eat meat. I'm curious to hear a scientific reply to these claims and hopefully have an end put to it? Thanks.

I don't remember specifically making posts about veganism to be honest but it's a complete lie that sustainably raised livestock contribute to deforestation. I don't know where you live, but here in the US it is true that we have destructive conventional animal farms which pollute the environment, but you also aren't forced to buy your meat that way. There are tons of small-scale, regenerative farms in every state in the country. It's not hard to find good quality meat raised on farms that are acting as a net benefit to the environment. Properly-managed regenerative farms increase biodiversity, rebuild topsoil, reduce carbon emissions, and produce meat that is healthier to consume. Check out Joel Salatin, the owner of Polyface Farm. He has written several books on the subject (and is much more highly educated than myself).

Also, I find it ironic that vegans cry about deforestation when their diets consist entirely of foods such as corn, soy, wheat, rice, and other grains, all of which involve destruction of massive swathes of natural biomes to make way for thousands of acres of monocropping. Not to mention exploitation of workers in foreign countries and the MASSIVE carbon footprint left by shipping crops across the world (or even just across the US). Oh, and we can't forget that, on top of the animals wiped out during the destruction of their habitats to make way for the farmland itself, the machinery used to tend to the crops kills thousands upon thousands of small creatures such as mice, voles, frogs, etc. out in the field (which in turn affects predator populations). There is literally no such thing as a cruelty-free diet. It is simply not possible, and vegans who say they are cruelty-free are lying to themselves.

I can say with absolute certainty that the impact my own diet has on the environment is not only significantly less than that of ANY vegan, but my diet actually supports a net positive effect. I eat only beef from a local farm that raises their cattle entirely on grass, practices regenerative rotational grazing and slaughters locally. My meat travels less than 20 miles total. The topsoil on the farm is deep and lush, it doesn't smell or pollute the nearby waterways, and the animals are stress-free and healthy. (And I pay a lot less for it than grocery store meat.)

If veganism doesn't work for you, don't do it. And don't let anyone try to pressure you into eating in a way you know isn't right for you. You are not a slave to the demands of others. If you passionately want to reduce your impact on the environment, then buy local, in-season and organic wherever possible, and commit yourself to eliminating anything from your diet that does not fall into that category. This could be a massive undertaking depending on where you're starting from, and it has a learning curve to it. But if it really matters to you, you'll do it. If it doesn't really matter to you, then it's better to have that conversation with yourself sooner rather than later.

#Anonymous #long post #dunno if this helps any #sorry but i am not in the mood for writing a sourced dissertation and i never will be #don't have that kind of time to spend on the internet anymore

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Volume 9 Trailer

Hello, everyone!

There’s no real need for introductions anymore, so let me dive right in by saying it bluntly: I don’t think this is a good trailer. Not just when it comes to the story we’re getting, but also in regards to the construction of the trailer itself. It tells us incredibly little while merely looking like a complex, exciting adventure.

Let’s start, as always, with our opening shot.

We saw the whole of this Wonderland in our teaser, but this time the map is accompanied by Weiss narrating all that’s happened to them since they were separated. This tells the audience that a) the girls reuniting will not be a focal point of the Volume’s conflict and b) the journey is highlighted by its comedy rather than its hardships. We learn that Ruby has befriended a talking mouse, Weiss and Blake dealt with killer vines (and were rescued by an army of more talking mice, so presumably Ruby finds them?), and Yang had her arm stolen by a purple raccoon carrying a wagon full of trash.

Do I really need to point out how misguided the tone is here?

Let’s recap: the group just fought their oldest enemy to the ‘death’ and lost, horrifically. Ruby watched her sister fall into a void and Blake had an actual reaction to that presumed demise. Weiss knows that Penny is Really Dead, having been there when Jaune killed her, and last any of them saw Cinder was waltzing off with two of the relics. They may not know that their portals opened into the hostile desert, but the questions of, “Did we succeed? Are the people safe? Where is Salem now? Where is Jaune? Did he make it?” should be haunting them. I literally don’t care if each girl gets a mini-moment of thinking Sad Thoughts pre-reunion---insert Weiss’ wet eyes here

---because the stakes of the story are now so high they simply can’t go back to that lighthearted ‘Look at all these wacky hi-jinks🤪’ tone. These four girls know they just destroyed a kingdom, they know Salem is out there taking out more of Remnant, they know they’re lost in a strange and hostile world, one of them knows a friend was just killed by a teammate... and the best we can do is a deadpan, “Yes. That.” when they come back together? 

The problem doesn’t solely lie in the girls’ comedic attitudes, but in the writers deciding that the follow-up to Volume 8 should be comedic situations. Imagine if post-Volume 3 the girls immediately had some Wacky Adventures following their school’s destruction, Penny’s death, Yang’s lost arm. Imagine how badly that would have come across... and know that we are getting that kind of contrast six Volumes later.

All this aside, the situations themselves look far from engaging to me. Unless there’s some magic at work, you’re telling me Weiss and Blake can’t break away from some vines, even without their weapons? The girls who frequently put craters in the earth with their aura? The teammate who can create a copy of herself to get out of a (literal) bind? And no, we don’t know the whole context, but this isn’t presented as a high stakes situation... which, again, is the point. We’re supposed to laugh at these quirky problems, not grapple with the avalanche of emotions Volume 8 introduced and now seems inclined to ignore.

Don’t even get me started on Yang having her arm stolen. I’ll head off any push-back by saying that no, the problem is not in having her lose the arm, or even having someone else take it. I’ve been saying for years that RWBY should have taken a FMA approach (or, you know, followed their own in-world rules when they introduced Maria’s eyes as being in need of frequent repair) and introduced the obstacle of Yang’s arm breaking down in the middle of fights, reacting badly to the cold, in need of specific parts she can no longer get once she makes an enemy of Atlas’ general, etc. Other characters can also display ableism as a form of commentary, so having someone else take Yang’s arm---especially a non-human somebody that has presumably never seen a person before and is ignorant of their needs---could be really compelling. All that’s okay.

The problem is we’re treating this as a joke.

The takeaway is not that Yang losing her arm is a deeply uncomfortable experience for her that highlights her struggles as a disabled person and may well have put her in legitimate danger, considering she doesn’t know how to fight one-handed. The takeaway is ‘Lol her arm was taken by a raccoon! A purple raccoon! And put with the trash! Everyone laugh at the idea of someone’s assistive device getting stolen and discarded like that! You know what makes for a cool flash-back gag? Having Yang play tug-of-war with her arm. That’ll get the audience laughing after the horrors of Volume 8!’

In another show I’d be more forgiving and say only that they need to make use of sensitivity readers. But after Volume 8 turned our most physically disabled character into the villain, killed off the android after making her human without her consent, and plain forgot about the blind fighter? I’m not feeling charitable towards stolen arm jokes.

The fact that the raccoon looks like an auctioneer type with the ‘trash’ being things he’s collected to sell may add another layer to this mess.

After Weiss’ voice-over we learn that the girls are trying to reach the tree because they think it may help them get home. This is what I mean about the trailer being badly constructed because that’s all we know about the central quest. It’s staggeringly simple and the journey there is riddled with just a few scenes (and numerous side characters we’ll leave behind) getting broken up into small, re-arranged chunks to make it look like more content than it actually is. We have Blake dealing with the killer vines---trapped, reaching for her weapon, pushing through them at the start---which is something we know happens very early in the volume, likely the first half of the first episode:

Yang standing atop that bridge and perhaps coming across Neo in the mountains:

Ruby finding the pile of leaves, with the creature emerging later in the trailer:

And we see the majority of the encounter with this queen-like character. Ruby is playing fantasy chess with her teammates as the pieces, they battle, get thrown off the board, and then the queen is defeated. As I’ve done below, we can rearrange the quick shots to see the structure of many interactions, all of it spliced up to fill the trailer with a ‘variety’ of content.

Given that I just watched the show + given the obvious Alice allusions, I’m tempted to compare all this to Alice in Borderland’s trailer, a text which actually hints at a lot of the conflict while giving very little away, actively encouraging the viewer to come back after they’ve watched the show because many shots mislead you... but I don’t have time for that tonight lol. The point is: others do it better.

Moving on, we see this version of the Cheshire cat who hurts my eyes, continuing the misguided tone, is introduced to us via a butt joke. I mean seriously, imagine something like this back in Volume 3 and early Volume 4. Picture Qrow coming in to talk to Ruby about her rare silver eyes and the destruction of her school... and leading with some fart pun. It’s so juvenile and while there’s nothing wrong with juvenile on its own, following what we got in Volume 8? It simply doesn’t mesh.

This cat---who can apparently move pieces of himself independently---says,“You do not go to the tree, the tree goes to you, unless of course you’re me… you see” and an unamused shot of Blake and Yang shows that no, they don’t see and they probably don’t care. Really, I haven’t been a fan of the girls’ attitude for several Volumes now, but I’m with them on this one. I wouldn’t be in the mood for riddles after everything they’ve been through either.

Beyond the tree and a few stretched out interactions, the trailer gives us only a bit of internal struggle by having a woman (that knight?) proclaim, “You were never the hero” and asking Ruby if she wouldn’t like to shed her identity like an old coat. Now, on the surface I really like this. From the shot of Ruby facing her old self

to the implication that this Wonderland might capture people by offering them the chance to shed their previous lives---has Jaune fallen victim to this after killing Penny?---it’s a compelling setup to finally, finally give Ruby some emotional growth. And it could be great! The only reason I hesitate to applaud it early is because such setups usually herald the revelation that the protagonist is the hero. Rarely do we end on the idea that they could become a hero if they put significant effort in moving forward (again, Alice in Borderland...) and never, to my knowledge, does the story say, ‘Yeah you DO suck and that’s where we’re leaving things.’ 99.9% of the time a ‘Am I a hero?’ question is answered with an emphatic ‘YES!’ by teammates, friends, family, saved victims, the narrative itself bestowing a power or a relic or anything else that only the Chosen One can wield. Coupled with the fact that it’s likely our antagonist delivering these lines, there’s very little chance that Ruby is going to come out of this experience with the drive to radically change her behavior. Because this trope AND the show’s history is firmly on the side of proving the heroes’ doubts wrong. This Volume will likely work as a reassurance. Like Yang confronting Ren out in the snow, Volume 9 will tell us that Ruby did the right thing, actually, and don’t you feel sorry for her, doubting herself needlessly like that?

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m not invested in a story that’s going to push that perspective even harder than it has in the past, not when the heroes HAVE made horrendous mistakes and the show continually wants us to ignore that. 

What else? Much of the dialogue feels stilted to me, particularly Weiss’ “Let’s try to be more logical, shall we?” There’s no mention of Volume 8’s tragedy except for 1. them trying to get home and 2. a brief shot of Penny, again making me worry that grappling with the biggest defeat of the series is going to take a backseat to Wonderland’s silly, distracting nonsense. I question why Blake thinks they’re in a fairy tale when nothing seen here reflects the in-world stories Remnant has, so are we going to end up with another Volume that simply tells the audience how we should be interpreting things, rather than doing the work to show us? The animators have clearly put a LOT of work into the backgrounds, but I’m personally just not jiving with their look. I can’t even articulate yet why I dislike many of them... the color palettes feel off, there’s this odd mix of chaos and order like they couldn’t decide which to go with... I like the thematic implication of the girls not fitting the art style of the world anymore, but actually watching that give me a headache. My preferences aside, no one is going to be watching this Volume unless they pay Crunchyroll for the access, or wait a whole year. If that was RT’s attempt to nudge more people into paying, they’ve failed spectacularly. Anyone not already eager to get First access to RWBY (which, of course, isn’t First anymore) isn’t going to shell out another subscription when faced with such a wait time. They’re just going to pirate it, the exact thing RT is begging fans not to do. That, or they’ll drop RWBY entirely.

Honestly, I’m struggling to name things I like about this trailer--and this situation in general. I admit freely that in a show with less drama going on, I’d likely be more forgiving of the nitpicks and optimistic about the ambiguous stuff, but here everything the Volume 9 trailer has given us feels like it’s reinforcing the franchise’s problems. They don’t have a coherent story to tell. They don’t know what tone they’re going for. They’re not stable and outright admit that, pleading with fans to keep them afloat. All of this is arriving years late as more horrific stories about the employees’ treatment continues to surface. RWBY needed a stellar trailer to capture the imagination of everyone who’s not a devoted, with-you-until-the-very-end-no-matter-what-you-produce fan and, frankly, I think they failed to deliver.

The last thing I want to say about our trailer is that it perfectly highlights RT’s tendency to repeat tropes from more popular media without understanding why those writing choices worked in the first place. Alice in Wonderland is not a ridiculous, nonsensical acid trip meant to show how ~crazy~ the world is. It’s a commentary on what it’s like to be a little girl navigating an adult world. Everything Alice goes through is an exaggerated, metaphorically-laden version of real life: here’s a rule, here’s a different rule, these two rules contradict, someone’s mad at you, you don’t know why, you’re trying, it’s not good enough, here’s a new rule, it still doesn’t make sense, you want to cry, you want to scream, you want to go home to your cat, your body is so small in this massive world and then it’s suddenly it’s too big and then you’re small again and your tears will surely drown you and through it all the adults are telling you to do better and you don’t know how.

Take, for example, Alice and the Cheshire Cat:

“Please would you tell me,” said Alice, a little timidly, for she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak first, “why your cat grins like that?”

“It’s a Cheshire cat,” said the Duchess, “and that’s why. Pig!”

She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice quite jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on again:—

“I didn’t know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I didn’t know that cats could grin.”

“They all can,” said the Duchess; “and most of ’em do.”

“I don’t know of any that do,” Alice said very politely, feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation.

“You don’t know much,” said the Duchess; “and that’s a fact.”

Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it would be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation.

Alice is timid because she’s speaking to an Important Adult and she knows how easy it is to mess that up. Is she even allowed to speak first? She has a good, genuine question, but is dismissed with an indifferent “they all can” and the non-explanation of “and that’s why.” She’s startled by the sudden violence, scared, and then relieved when it’s not directed at her, though it easily could have been. Through it all Alice stays polite and is thrilled that she’s managing a real conversation... until suddenly a cold tone and an insult tears her down and she tries again to navigate an ever-changing, confusing, intimidating world. Alice in Wonderland is not nonsense for the sake of nonsense. It’s a commentary on how we treat our children.

What is RWBY commenting on?

#rwde #rwby #rwby spoilers #mymetas

[himbogiants]

Oneshot requests #1: Innocence of the Damned

A/N: Hi! Welcome! Incase you haven’t seen, to get back into the flow of writing I am taking requests! This here is a request featuring my favourite- parental g/t! It is a little dark as those tropes are my preferred genre but I will list all warnings beforehand. Thank you so much @gt-jar for request! I look forward to writing the others now that college is closed up before my exams, next request should be out tomorrow :)

Content warning!: violence, gore, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse.

(Also side note this story feature humans with some animalistic features, ears, fangs and tails- but they are humans)

—————————————————————

It was safe to say Jasper was getting real tired of the cards he was being dealt in slime ridden dump folks called a city. As crook himself he was no angel, considering the fact he played what one would deem a rather vital role for one of the many gangs, The Black Cats. His job? Rather simple. To hunt down those in debt to the Black Cats club and gambling den, simple on paper, though as per usual reality was not so doting.

Hunting down the sorry souls was easy enough. Most characterised by their idiocy, as one who willingly shook the hand of any money lending devil would be. As a hunter of such men, his reputation lingered about the leery alleys, lived on in the bated breaths of wary whispers, haunted with frightful glances. In short his reputation was enough to draw most out quick enough. If they were smart, with cash in hand and no more than a seething glare burning into the brickwork below, it was the preferred option. Those who lacked brain cells were a different story. And it never had a happy ending.

He didn’t feel pity, he couldn’t- not in his line of work. They dug their grave, wether they left bloodied and broken or not- with the rumours of corruption in the stock market, there was no doubt these pathetic sods would now and forevermore be paying back the scraps they earned for the rest of their days in this miserable shithole.

They’d done this out of their own stupidity, selling their lives for the brief comfort of a coin in hand; a hint of wealth and good fortune- only to waste it away at the tables, feel the warmth of alcohol in their rotten veins and a endure fist fulls of powder.

Loan sharking was a gluttonous business alright, the greed of men its life blood. But business was business. Money was money. And a job was a job. Jasper was not one to neglect such facts.

Tonight’s job was no different, or it so it had seemed.

The rain was that irritable indecisive state, a vexing inbetween- not quite what you’d label a downpour, but not a clear night by any means. More synonymous with mist or fog than anything. A typical scene of an ominous night in a classic picture show.

He was glad he’d worn the cowboy boots tonight, it would save his trench coat the dignity of sopping amongst the pavement. Aside from the rain not a soul was in sight, the city was a ghost town.

Muffled music from one of the many bars nearby was the only sign that there was indeed life to be found. Rain always pulled in the desperate folk. His boss would be pleased with that much. More so when this job was complete.

With a flick of his hat he gave himself an internal debrief. A mouse. A stingy pesky conman who had played one to many games in avoiding debts. Pulling strings, jumping loopholes; his boss wasn’t a patient man, and his patience was wearing thin. He’d been big in his part of city, though mice and rodents alike were seen as nothing more than rotten pests, they’d never garner much respect- though respect wasn’t something one could achieve easily in these whereabouts. He’d seen a few killed off in horrific ways he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy- though rethinking that statement maybe he would. Crushed, snapped, thorn, swallowed. Form of punishment like that would certainly send a message.

Overall, this specific mouse had some nerve considering his position on the social ladder. Though it made it easier for him, hunting down mice was practically in his blood- given his heritage. He couldn’t give a damn how it was handled, once the job got done.

He’d been spotted last in the outskirts, the entire city was more or less a slum but this specific spot entailed the poorest of poor- both in health and coin. It seemed his mouse was attempting to blend in amongst the addicts and beggars, he’d seen this all before.

What he hadn’t expected were three suited men packed into an alleyway. Not just any men. Hound Dogs. The Black Cats rival competitor, and lifelong enemy. Brilliant.

What was particularly interesting however was how they respectively took turns between puffing their cigars and dangling a much smaller, stout man. The mouse. His target.

Innards seeped from his stomach, one ear had been torn, his tail was gone. His breaths laboured, choking on his own blood and horrid cacophony that barely managed to travel, he cried pitifully brief snippets of words that turned into gargles.

Jasper flexed his claws in frustration. The man was no taller than four inches, with injuries like that he wouldn’t survive the night. The debt wouldn’t be paid- those dogs knew what they were doing. An insult to The Black Cats.

But there was three of them and one of him. Fighting over a dead man wouldn’t pay the debt, loosing his own life wouldn’t either, though this was clear hit from the Hound Dogs- and it wouldn’t be taken lightly. Revenge, would come in full. Enough damage had been done tonight, and pay back had to be planned proper and precise.

Adjusting his cuffs, the middle man spat out his wilting cigar letting it hiss to a dim in the soft rain before stomping it to into the ground.

“I believe we are done here.” He spoke rather gruffly.

Jasper eased his claws, though the urge to slit into a throat was raging at the thought of his boss hearing the news.

“Finish him off then. This rain is pissing me off and Brutus will want an update.”

Despite his vocal chords blocked with blood the target attempted a cry of mercy before he was dropped on the pavement, a foot was raised and Jasper only grimaced and averted his gaze as a sickening crunch followed, spatters of blood trickled down the freshly painted red wall.

There was snarl in regards to the red dots freshly adjourning the trios suede shoes and with that the three took off down the alleyway.

Jasper sighed aggressively as he pushed off the wall. That was that then. Or it would’ve been, had he not picked up on a brief scattering sound.

He paused midstep looking back in disbelief.

Unbelievable..there wasn’t a chance of survival after that. The mouse was as sure as dead by now. The smells of a fresh body couldn’t be denied, Jasper was all too familiar with the scent.

Yet there it was again! This time followed by a brief sniff. Jaspers ear twitched with intrigued, with narrow eyes he turned the corner, his outline ominously blocking the street lamps.

The corpse lay where it most likely would for some time, completely caved in on itself. Nobody ever cared when a rat or mouse passed. They were only labelled as vermin.

But that was besides the point.

What had made that noise?

More importantly, was there hope for this debt after all?

Holding his breath, he prevailed silently step by step. Sneak attacks were a specialty of his, but with smaller folk one had to be that of a phantom. Another sniff- this one undeniable. But where?

A whimper.

His eyes fell down in a flash.

The crates.

Suddenly a newfound determination his kicked them aside ferociously, it seemed his mouse had brought a little friend and a dangerous light cascaded over his face, only for it to dwindle.

His breath hitched.

Down below sat a boy.. nothing more than a..child. An extremely tiny child at that.

Jasper faltered and lowered his arms as if a spell had been broken.

The file had said nothing about family.

Nothing about a child.

If anything it was a known fact for local residents and tourists that most gambling men in the area were nothing more than single slobs whom society had given up on entirely.

Yet here sat this boy no more than three inches in height and ten years of age, ears pinned back hidden beneath a mess of dusty hair, tail wrapped around a battered leg. Reddened eyes pinned in a horrified gaze.

His diminutive form couldn’t press further into the wall if he tried and it was more than obvious from his stance the boy was going to dart in the opposite direction- right by his father’s body.

The sight was gruelling to behold for himself, and he’d grown used to this scenarios- it would surely scar the boy for life.

Something tugged deep inside him.

In his position pity wasn’t an option. He’d had this drilled within himself since he’d chosen this life.

But those eyes..that pure raw fear. The innocence in a city drowning in its own greed.

In the harrowing silence time stood still as the pair looked one another down.

Jasper could only think of his upbringing. His family. His little sister, his baby brother. His widowed mother- each one of their lives snuffed out in an instant. How it left him stranded at only thirteen.

How that agonising pain and anger had coerced his feeble mind into the darkness, jaws of those with silver tongues.

Jasper was aware of his sins. All too aware of the blood on his hands, his damned soul.. aware that at this point, there was no changing that. It was too late for him.

But it wasn’t too late for this boy.

As if time had snapped back, he broke the barrier, daring to step an inch closer. God he was small.

“Easy there son.” He attempted, raising his hands in defence, carefully grasping his hat, withdrawing his claws. He did his best to hide his fangs. His attempt lay in vain.

The rise and fall of the little chest hastened. He needed to act quick.

Biting his cheek at how his shadow swallowed the tiny child, bringing him to a position to get down on his knees as he continued, the words careful ringing in his mind.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, just..just keep your eyes on me alright.”

He had only successfully gotten one knee planted on the wet brick work- though it would seem to be far enough as in an instant the boy dashed to the right, the thought of freedom plaguing his being.

“Whoa there!”

Swiping for the tiny figure too sloppy for his liking, allowing a dodge and a dart, Jasper snapped after the boy.

Though regaining his posture slammed his hand down resulting in a collision. The boy smacked into him crumbling to the ground, Jasper winced.

“Alright now. Hold it son.”

The boy, seemingly understanding his. escape was off limits tucked his head into his oversized jacket.

It was a poor attempt, but Jasper credited the fact the boy wasn’t currently begging for mercy. He hated that spiel- though guilt subdued him, reminding himself given the situation begging for mercy wouldn’t be unwarranted.

Feeling the feeble boy against his rough hands Jaspers heart swelled. He’d never wanted a kid. Hell, he’d barely been one himself. This city wasn’t exactly the place for children.

Aside from that, settling down in this life wasn’t an option- too dangerous. Too many risks. The biggest one being leverage one could use against you.

Those with families kept them hidden, not even he knew where the boss secured his, and that man had practically raised him, albeit perhaps raised wasn’t the right word. Jaspers lifelong service to The Black Cats was his own form of payment. He unfortunately owed the boss his life, bastard that he was, and he’d spend the rest of his days fulfilling every command, completing his wretched errands.

Point was, children were never an option in this life. But yet, there was a feeling deep inside. There was an urge- undeniable need to protect this boy he couldn’t quite fathom- or ignore, no matter now hard he tried.

Although the boy wasn’t moving, asides from trembling that is, he didn’t want to risk anymore surprises. With that he cautiously wrapped his fingers surrounding the boy, cocooning his small quivering form, which in turned earned a whimper.

“Breathe, breathe” Despite it being out of fright, his commands were followed. He gently rubbed his thumb along the child’s spine as he whispered

“you’re alright- it’s alright. That’s it. Calm yourself. You hurt none?”

The boy was firm not to reply, Jasper expected as much but if he was going to help this child that answer wouldn’t do.

He attempted to glance over in his father’s direction but gasped as Jasper tightened his grip in the softest manner he could muster, regaining the child’s focus.

“Hey now, eyes on me kid. I don’t want you seeing that. Eyes on me, yeah?”

He stuck his thumb out under the boys chin and tilted it up to face him, a few more bruises making themselves apparent. His eyes puffy from crying opened once more, that harsh redness was amplified by two velvet pupils which met Jaspers own golden glare.

“There you are..” He whispered down to the boy, busy blinking out remaining tears.

“Now..you hurt?”

The boy didn’t respond. Jasper huffed, though he wouldn’t loose his patience. Scaring the boy felt wrong in ways he couldn’t process.

He tensed as he felt the minuscule tail wrap around his finger, a hug? A sign of comfort? Or a reply? Jasper couldn’t tell, but awe melted within him.

“That mean no?”

He waited for a signal but to no avail,

only after a few beats of bated breath the boy gave a hesitant nod. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. That much he could work with.

“Ah so you can understand me then.”

He doubted the boys father had even bothered teaching him the common tongue, Jasper remembered him well enough from the gambling hall to know he neglected this child with his presence in preference of poker chips- if that wasn’t obvious enough from the fragile state of his body, or the fact he barely had his own clothes. That wasn’t important right now though, that man was long gone now. He needed to get this kid talking.

“You got a name then?”

The boy nodded a second time, opened his mouth like a gaping fish then halted closing it, looking away with a look of shame. Confusion nagged at Jasper before an obvious realisation struck.

Oh..

“You can’t speak can you?”

No reply, of course. No wonder the little thing hadn’t begged for mercy- he couldn’t.

And there it was.

There was no doubting it this time.

Pity.

The rain began to grow heavier, reminding him that it was in fact drizzling and his clothes had begun to sop and dampen.

The boy was soaked to the bone, though Jasper figured the shivers were more out of fear than anything. It wasn’t a cold night, with the city adjacent to the swamplands humidity was at an all time high.

They couldn’t stay here much longer, with how thick the air had grown a storm was inevitable.

He silently watched the boy in contemplation.

Pity wasn’t allowed

Distractions weren’t allowed.

He’d just about killed countless. Beaten those bloody til they were but a footfall from six feet under. He didn’t take pleasure in this but he never felt remorse. Pity

But even his shallow heart couldn’t find it in itself to abandon this child.

He begrudgingly glanced over at the corpse polluting the alley with its odorous fumes, then back down at the boy, whose eyes watched him with an unmistakable glimmer of hope.

Disbelief, that someone was showing kindness..mercy.

The little tyke was beat, broken and looked a minute away from collapsing. Jasper didn’t imagine he’d eaten recently- or slept for that matter. He pondered how long his deadbeat father had dragged him about the city, different hideouts, different escape routes.

Yet, deadbeat or not, the kid was alone now. Hurt. Scared. Sad.

All of it would spur into a concoction of rage he’d seen before.

In himself.

No.

No.

He refused to let this kid go down the same path he had. Let this kid make stupid choices, fall into that hands that would take and take and take until there was nothing left to give.

It was decided

“Right then..” he opened up his pocket, with an encouraging nod carefully dropped the boy in, feeling him instantly scurry around out of shock, he looked down with softened eyes.

“Ease up there kid. You’re safe. I swear it- and that don’t come easy with me. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you.”

He looked sincerely as if swearing the next part to himself, telling the child what he wished someone had told him all those years ago.

“Never again”

With that, he placed his hat back upon his head, leaving the alley for good just as the first rumble of thunder rumbled far above.

#gianttiny #giant #tiny #g/t #giant and tiny #gt story #gt oneshot #found family #request

[symphonic-scream]

Yes, 100%

:D

Everyone has a pet that has the name of their persona (cause I'm sentimental) like. Morgana is just Akira's emotional support cat but he also has a little red bird names Arsene. Goro has two mice named Robin Hood and Loki, and Futaba has a ferret named Necronomicon

In the quad apartment there's Carmen the cat, Goemon the turtle, and Captain Kidd the snake

As for Makoto and Haru, there's M'Lady the large rabbit and Johanna the doberman. Hifumi doesn't have a pet yet, but maybe one day

The Okumura-Niijima apartment is right above the bakery and cafe, but they made sure to add an entrance at the back so they don't have to work through the shop front to get home (Makoto sometimes has an overwhelming day at her placements. Sometimes Haru's relapsing into her caged mindset. They wanted a safe route in and out without crowds)

M'Lady sometimes spends Haru's time working the cafe with her. They made a little throne for her at the far side of the counter. Regular customers like to bring her little veggies to snack on

Makoto is training Johanna to work as an EMA. She wants to give her future patients as much comfort as possible, like being able to offer sessions with her and her dog. It's a work in progress, she got the idea when she met Joker (and Morgana) for the first time

I have stories for everyone meeting Joker too so. Let me know if you want those

Hifumi is at first dumbfounded when she discovers Makoto is trans. Akira had told her one of the wives were and based on how they present themselves, she assumed it was Haru. She and Makoto have many long talks about how they define femininity and such. For Makoto, it's in her spirit of rebellion. Being a woman to her is refusing to conform, not to accept the hand she's dealt but to stand up and push for what she wants

And for Haru, it's more like a comfort. She's always felt, protected by her own inner view of the world. She sees her own femininity as like, frills and fluff and treating herself. Inner love. They balance each other well

Makoto: I notice you hunch a lot. Is your height something that makes you feel a little dysphoric?

Hifumi: ah, I suppose so. I'm taller than both you and Haru, and Akira too...

Makoto: I have a solution for that. Want to feel short? You should visit our other friends' place. They're all tall there

Haru: she's right! Ann and Yusuke are both, very tall!

There's lots of conversations about gender and sexuality between Hifumi and all the thieves, about how they found themselves and tips they have for being queer. Some are, awkwardly personal

Hifumi: did you. Have your surgeries yet?

Makoto: ...it's 9 am I'm- I'm not talking about this that early I'm sorry

Haru: just a tip, you don't have to have any to be trans! You can have one, or the other, both or none! Gender and sex are personal to you, don't let anyone else dictate your experience

Makoto is red in the face and sipping at iced water trying to ignore the Convo (it's the one topic she's nervous about. Only because she doesn't like hospitals.)

Hifumi: why do you guys have two spare rooms anyways? For family?

Makoto: oh, no

Haru: can you keep a secret? Don't tell Akira or the others, but... We're thinking of having a baby

Hifumi: ...am I your test run for parenthood?

Makoto: no, don't be silly. That was when we took care of Futaba when they were fighting with the boys

Haru's father isn't a fan of her relationship with Makoto, but he accepted he has no say in whether they're together or not and stays out of their hair. He's, working on being supportive. It's taking him time to learn

Sae on the other hand has been Makoto's number one advocate for years. She helped her sister find herself back when Makoto was just in middle school, and even set her up at a vastly different highschool to start fresh

Goro is horribly awkward around anyone but Akira or Futaba. He's. Like a stick. It freaks Hifumi out at first

Just. Hifumi experiences all sorts of love too. Seeing her friends who found their forever people, platonic love, the sort of familial love she forms with Makoto and Haru-

I have many many thoughts please keep talking to me about this I'm,

Also. Help me find a name for this au so I can make a tag for it! Send me suggestions

#persona 5 au #hifumi togo #joker persona 5 #akeshu #goro akechi #makoto niijima #haru okumura #okujima #the phantom queers

[chin-chilla01]

Foxtown, Chapter One

Tanjiro ventures out into the woods and gets caught in a blizzard

Word count: 3800

A tanuki let out an irritated grunt as he pulled a small metal cage out from under a heavy blanket of snow.

The trap was cold to the touch and empty, save for what little bait was still left inside.

"This isn't good…" Tanjiro sighed as he inspected the cage briefly before putting it off to the side with the five other different traps he'd collected on his route.

With winter hitting its full swing in just a couple of days the whole village has been scrambling around to make sure their fully prepared; not just for the animals that would be hibernating but for others who had a very high chance of just getting trapped inside because of the heavy snow falls that came around in there area. That meant harvesting the final crops, collecting whatever supplies, and storing up on everything you think you'd need, because the odds of being able to go out and find it would be slim to none.

The Kamado family was no exception to this mad dash for food storage before they needed to hibernate. Their mother Kie had been working extra hard all autumn to make sure their vegetable harvest would be plentiful, and Nezuko and himself were the ones to gather any protein (Nezuko taking to fishing while Tanjiro dealt with the more gruesome hunting)

Technically as Tanuki, and members of this specific village, the family usually refrained from eating any meat because they didn't need it to survive most of the time. Many of their neighbor's were smaller animals like birds, mice and rabbits. It just felt wrong to be eating another animal knowing a very kind squirrel lived just up the road. As Omnivores, the Kamado family usually ate more fish and vegetables than anything, but they switched it up during the winter because of the youngest members.

The Tanuki family were among those who went to sleep from November to April, waking up only to clean up or eat something before going right back into their instinctual slumber. They were a family of seven, with three of them still being far from old enough to go out on their own, so Tanjiro's mother likes to make sure they still got extra food whenever they did wake up, keeping them strong and healthy so they would grow up properly. A habit she had picked up on when their, now deceased, father was around. He always had to have a little extra fat and protein during the winter because of his natural frailty.

So this prep work was something Tanjiro has long since been used to. Ever since he had properly learned transformation and was able to move around outside their burrow on his own he had immediately taken up to the chores, and took them more seriously every year as their family grew larger.

The issue at hand was that winter came earlier than anyone thought it would, or at least the snow did. Many villagers' crops got frozen over, the rivers too, and all the smaller animals people would hunt all vanished into their own homes. So the food storage the family had was strikingly low right now. It made Tanjiro feel worried for them, he didn't mind giving up some of his portions for the winter but he dared not let Nezuko or Takeo do the same, no matter how much they insisted.

'This section is completely empty too.' Tanjiro had done some walking around, scenting the air this way and that in an attempt to find anything at this point. Unfortunately any scent he did catch was stale, empty burrows and old migration trails. He was getting desperate, so much so that he had even started to turn towards the mountain, an area completely off limits for the residents that made the base of it their home…

"Tanjiro!"

Tanuki ears flicked up and over at the call of his name, making the Hanafuda earrings pierced into them flutter about.

"Taaaanjiiiroooo!!"

He turned just in time to feel the yellow blur slam into his midsection, knocking the air out of him and falling back into the snow. In an unfortunate chain of events he landed right on his tail, crying out at the sudden pain that shot up his back side and that caused snow on the branches above him to drop their gefty snow pile right on the pair of them.

"Aahhhh!! Cold cold cold!" The blurr, Zenitsu, quickly leapt up into the air and started flailing wildly in a circle, shaking away the frozen water before it melted into his dry clothing.

"Zenitsu that hurt!" Tanjiro scolded the older mouse. "You can't just tackle people like that, it's rude, you could have just grabbed my arm."

"But you didn't hear me the first few times!"

Zenitsu was a resident of the village, a mouse specifically. Tanjiro remembers the unfortunate years when his ears were too big for his head. He had once been told that the Blonde boy had been found half starved right outside the village and the old man up the road had taken him and another boy in. Now they were their own little nest. It was him and some other human child living out in the woods that Tanjiro would call his best friends.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Tanjiro asked after dusting snow off his own body. They were really far from town honestly, no one dared move out this far because of multiple reasons. Mostly that it was dangerous; predators lived farther out here, and no one could reach you if you called for help.

"Kaigaku and I are out collecting food." Zenitsu turned to point to a large woven basket nearby. From here Tanjiro couldn't see inside it, but he assumed it was things like mushrooms and nuts.

There likely wasn't very much either…

"Trying a few more times before winter?" Tanjiro asked.

For a moment Zenitsu looked surprised. "Last attempt for the season." When Tanjiro only tilted his head in confusion, that surprise turned to panic. "Tanjiro, there's a huge blizzard coming!"

"What?" Now it was the Tanuki's turn to look surprised. He even looked up and around, not a cloud in the sky and there wasn't even any wind. "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure I can hear it!"

Most of the village would call Zenitsu a quack for saying stuff like that, but Tanjiro really wasn't one to judge him. He'd seen first hand how Zenitsu ears picked up on things others couldn't (plus he had his nose). At first he thought it was just a mouse thing but turns out it was a Zenitsu thing, he remembered sitting out in a field with the blonde and he would tell him all the things he heard: approaching animals, an oncoming breeze, sometimes he could even predict what people were going to say in a conversation because he could hear what they were feeling.

It was a shame Zenitsu was such a scaredy cat and wouldn't go hunting, he'd be a valuable asset.

"If it's you saying it I'll believe it." Tanjiro said nervously as his maroon eyes once again looked to the sky, the harmless blue sky. One he noticed had started to get darker, was it that late already?

"Once it arrives no ones going to be doing any more foraging. There's a lot of people out right now doing the same- ah wait why are you out here?"

"We don't have enough protein in the store burrow." Tanjiro appreciated the fact Zentisu didn't cringe or grimace at the word. Most others would shy away. It was an unspoken thing around the village to not talk about those kinds of things, as most of the residents were prey animals. But Zentisu had been Tanjiros friend for so long he didn't mind anymore, he knew the Tanuki wouldn't dare try anything. Plus he had a huge crush on his sister and was willing to bend over backwards for her, so that helped too.

"So your way out here?" Brown eyes nervously glanced around the forest; it was deathly quiet (to tanjiro anyway) with all the snow everywhere and for some that could be eerie. Tanjiro liked it though.

"I checked all my traps already and nothing was there. So I've been hoping to find something but no luck. I'm thinking I might try my luck up the mountain."

"Up the mountain?!" Zenitsu looked like he was struck by lightning with how his hair suddenly puffed up in alarm. "You can't do that -I know you're kind of a carnivore- but wolves and stuff live up the mountain! Plus that's where FoxTown is!"

FoxTown was exactly that: a village made up entirely of foxes. At least according to the older villagers. Tanjiro had never been, and as far as he knew not many others have either. It was because of the stories the older people would pass down to the younger generations that kept them away, they told them about how vicious and bloodthirsty foxes were. They could be meaner than wolves and were tricksters by nature. Taking joy in playing with their prey before eating it, almost like torture for entertainment. They were also powerful, with transformations similar to the Tanuki. The stories were also exaggerated saying things about how the more tails a fox had the more they ate and that meant they always were snatching up others to eat. That their appetite was never ending and they could make you see things if you weren't careful.

Tanjiro remembered being told by old man Jigoro that if you see lights in the woods while on the mountain to always move in the opposite direction of them, as that was likely a Fox Fire. A tactic used by them to trick you into thinking you were seeing village lights, and thus drawing you farther in away from safety so they could catch you…

The idea of being tricked like that scared Tanjiro a little. Foxes really were scary… he was certain most of the stories weren't true, but his mother often told him that no matter how wild the story, the truth was in there somewhere… The story had to start somewhere.

"Fox town or not…" the Tanuki pulled himself from his thoughts with a shake of his head. "I need to bring back something! Especially if this really is the last day."

"If they see you they're gonna eat you!" Zenitsu protested more, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and shaking him.

"Not if I look like one of them!" Tanjiro was certain they weren't cannibals.

"Eh?" Zenitsu looked stupefied. "Look like them-? Hey wait, have you been practicing your transformation!?"

Tanjiro couldn't help but smile widely. He was quite proud of how far he'd come! It wasn't very hard for him to change into a Racoon dog, other things were naturally much harder. But he'd been practicing for situations just like this! He wanted to appear like another animal so he could travel more, hunt more when they needed it!

Zenitsu still didn't look sure so Tanjiro would just have to show him. The change was swift and unfortunately left his clothing behind, but the blonde Mouse would be staring wide eyed at a Cross Fox, with a single tail of course. He was small for a fox but Tanjiro couldn't help that yet.

"Woah, your coat is black and red!"

"I'm still practicing." Tanjiro shook himself free of the checkered Haori on the ground.

"So my colors are just the same as my hair I guess. I don't know how to make it look orange."

"This is already really impressive though, Tanjiro! You don't fully sound like a fox though…"

"I don't know much about their sounds." The fluffy tail behind him drooped slightly. "I've never met a fox before after all!"

"I hope you never will, gramps met one once!"

"Oh?" The ears on Tanjiro's ears perked up. Another thing he couldn't change was the fact his earrings would be visible.

"Yeah it's how he got that scar on his cheek! He said he fought mad to get away. It's the only time he'd ever used the phrase 'trapped like a rat'." Taniro learned the hard way that mice did not like being called rats. He was also well aware that prey animals could be just as vicious as predators when their life was on the line.

"What happened?" Tanjiro asked, fox eyes wide.

Zentisu puffed his chest, proud to tell such a cool story about his grandpa. "It tried to eat him! He said its mouth was huge and it had super sharp teeth! Its fur looked rough, like he hadn't bathed in days and he was feral!"

"And mister Jigoro got away!?"

"He did! He even said he kicked a few of that nasty foxes' teeth out!"

Some of the elders were so cool. Tanjiro looked starry eyed, he was eager to get home and tell his younger siblings the same story. He could already see Rokutos wide eyes and Hanako cheering on the old mouse up the road.

Speaking of his family…

Tanjiro lookee up again before jumping to his paws. "I get going Zenitsu!"

"Wait, you're still going up the mountain!?" The boy reached out to the fox even as he watched it stuff his clothing under some roots in the snow to hide them.

"I have to! I can't go back empty handed-"

"But the blizzard!"

"Exactly!" The fox turned to his friend, puffed up and stubborn. "I'll be okay! I know my limits and will come back as quickly as I can!"

"But Tanjiro-"

"Actually Zenitsu-" the boy froze. "Nezuko is probably still out trying to fish! She should be at the river right next to town, can you go tell her what's going on? About me and more importantly the weather?" They really had to make sure everything was ready this evening.

Zenitsu jumped and saluted the fox, face becoming dead serious. "I will! I will go find Nezuko right now!!" And with what sounded like a small clap of thunder the mouse was gone, basket and all.

"I knew that would get him off my back." Tanjiro chuckled, it sounded weird coming from a fox but he'd have to get used to it quickly. He could be stuck like this for several hours after all.

After making sure his things were properly stuffed into hiding, he took a moment to pause and look back the way he'd come before heading deeper into the forest.

Tanjiro had never gone this far before, the forest got denser, the elevation more intense and more rocks and cliffs to bar his path. He knew it wouldn't be easy but with more difficulty came opportunity, more cracks and hiding places for smaller mammals and luck was apparently on his side. He caught the scent of rabbits.

He had hunted before in his Racoon Dog form, and truthfully it wasn't that different as a fox. Except for his legs being a little longer and coat less thick- he couldn't mimic a winter coat as he hadn't ever seen one on a fox before. Regardless, catching them was easy. He followed the small critters all the way back to their burrow and used his skinny paws and nose to dig them back out. Two satisfied meals for the road.

It was just in time too because as he quickly made his way back down the mountain the wind was starting to pick up speed and drop in temperature, he also couldn't ignore the rather heavy scent of something following him.

Whatever it was had been lurking around him for a while now, it had first appeared when he had really gotten into the thick part of the woods, and if it weren't for his sensitive nose he might not have noticed it at all. It was clearly good at hunting because no matter how Tanjiro tried to locate it, it remained hidden. It made the fur stand on end along his back. Was it a fox or probably worse a wolf? Was an owl or a hawk hunting him from the air?

Several times he would stop and turn around to look at the brush and trees, but see nothing but the quiet forest and snow, which just elevated his panic. His instincts were telling him he had to get out of there, he was being hunted.

Snow had now started to mix in with the howling wind. It was coming down faster and heavier than Tanjiro had ever felt before, almost blocking his vision completely. He began to feel fear when he realized that the fresh powder was starting to cover up the scent trail he was following to get back home.

'No, no, no-!' He thought, teeth clenching into the rabbits in his mouth as he began to pick up the pace. He cared less about getting away from the thing behind him and more for getting out of the unknown territory. If he could just get to some kind of landmark he recognized he'd be okay! The more rational part of his brain was telling him he should find shelter, a tree root he could quickly burrow into or some crevice between the boulders and to wait the storm out till it ended.

Unfortunately the more stubborn side of him wouldn't let his legs stop moving. He had to get back home, not just because of the food but because he knew his family would be worried sick about him being stuck outside in a blizzard. They would be safe inside the burrow, warmed by a fire, and that eased Tanjiro's mind just a little bit. Even as a heavy wind nearly knocked him over.

Tanjiro let out a surprised yip as he stumbled, one paw collided with something hard under the snow and it sent pain all the way up that leg. One of the rabbits slipped from his mouth as he cried out in pain and he watched in horror as it started to roll away from him-

Tanjiro scrambled awkwardly after it, trying to catch it but being so unused to the fox-like body that he couldn't focus, he flailed out in the snow, trying to stop his precious kill from getting away. He lunged forward, his paws landing right on it and for a moment he felt the sweet elation of victory and relief.

Before the ground under him suddenly lurched forward with his weight and he felt himself briefly floating out into the air. He looked down with wide eyes to see craggy rock and snow several feet below him. All the white in his vision and panic had completely tunnel visioned him to the point he couldn't tell he had been running right for a cliff.

Everything slowed down. His red eyes dilating with adrenaline, mouth falling open so his other rabbit fell out as a panicked yowl ripped itself from his throat. He flipped in the air and flailed around madly, trying to grab hold of anything to stop his fall but he had slipped too far away.

In an instant it all sped up again, his violent mid air thrashing and the oncoming ground below.

He felt pain shoot through his head and then everything went dark.

Tanjiro liked autumn the most; the red and yellow leaves were such a beautiful sight to him, he could watch his siblings prance about and jump into the piles had made for them. The temperature was the perfect level of cool so that it didn't bite at his skin, but cooled him under his thick coat or clothing.

The crisp air always smelled clean and natural, the scent of the dirt under his paws as he went on a small stroll with his sister was relaxing, the sound of a river before it would freeze over added to the atmosphere. Being able to lounge pleasantly on a rock as the breeze shook the leaves around him like music as he watched the sky was one of his favorite things to do when he had a free moment. It would be even better when his younger siblings would come to join him and they would make a game out of cloud watching.

His family always brought out the warmest and most tender feelings in him. The feeling of them pressed against him with all the younger kids huddled in the nest for warmth and their mothers bushy tail laying across them like the softest blanket in the world. He wanted that so badly right now.

Right now though he felt his paws crunching under brittle leaves as padded quickly through the woods. His little Raccoon Dog nose would occasionally tilt upwards to catch a whiff of something, smoke and ash, before he quickly started on his journey again.

He wasn't sure where he was going, and he wasn't sure if he was just walking in circles. Everything in this forest looked exactly the same, the same shades of red, yellow and orange. The same sounds. The only thing that seemed to change was that scent, it would get stronger and stronger as his little paws carried him forwards. He was getting so eager to find its source that he had started a quick trott and was ready to break into a full run.

But then suddenly it was in front of him.

Maple leaves, neatly raked up into a large pile, just waiting to be jumped into. But oddly enough small tendrils of smoke were curling their way out of the open spaces of the pile, like it was a hot day and the dry leaves were just starting to catch fire.

That's what it smelled like anyway.

Fire was something to be feared but respected, his father had taught him that early on. Because, while a blaze could destroy entire forests, they still used fire to warm themselves in their burrow and used it to light dark rooms to feel safe. They used it to cook their food too.

Fire could be friend or foe.

But this felt alive. As Tanjiro sniffed at the air, paws slowly inching him closer to the pile, the scent of husky maple and smoke wrapped him up and made him feel warm. It was like a comfortable warm blanket was wrapped around him and the scent was just elevating the relaxed sensation that was slowly spreading throughout his body.

He wanted more of it, wanted this smell to completely take him over.

Tanjiro stuck his nose right into the pile of leaves and felt something wet. He felt a force push back against him and slowly, but never breaking the contact, pulled his head back. He watched an orange muzzle slowly creep out from below the leaves, its wet nose pressed against his own and he dared not pull away.

Suddenly the leaves exploded, falling around him in a beautiful rain of warm colors. For a brief moment, through the falling leaves, Tanjiro saw it: warm golden fur, dark paws and golden eyes.

A fox.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was beautiful.

And then he woke up.

#rentan #kyotan #fox rengoku #rengoku x tanjiro #tanuki tanjiro #demon slayer fanfic

[invested-in-your-future]

The show is truly great with messaging and themes.

Volume 4 - "Dealing with your traumatic experiences and loss is important step in finding the path you personally want to walk...so stop moping and go do the thing I want you to do because trauma is just like how he was scared of mice that one time. And also your sister does not get to deal with her trauma at all because LOL."

Volume 5 - "Uhhh... trusting each other to work on something together is important I guess? As in we trust you to fill in the blanks of everything that happened offscreen by yourselves. And people are better when working together as sum of all parts than alone. But also racism is not real and any issues are magically solved by being nice to the bigots that want you extinct. Doing ANYTHING together against bigotry is slippery slope toward terrorism."

Volume 6 - "Rising above past mistakes and grievances is important part of moving forward... unless you hid the fact that you are terrified and have no idea what you are doing in the face of undefeatable evil (if so you are literally worse than worst villains). And also we aren't actually going to show our characters actually HEALING or dealing with their past mistakes, grievances and trauma."

Volume 7/8 - "Authoritarianism and Classism is inherently destined to fail as it eats itself (that is unless we are talking about systematic racism because that totally does not exist). And by that we mean it will fail because of like 20 different evil entities and a giant JRPG airship of doom and Very Magical Creationist McGuffins and not because of inherent toxic and self-destructive nature of authoritarians themselves, because also those authoritarians are harmless comedic idiots that are easily dealt with"

Volume 9 - "Being yourself is okay...unless you are depressed...or a faunus(or really any marginalized community)...or have self worth issues...If you are any of these things and thus have been changed by your experiences just try not being that LOL we hate you. Also our very well written show absolutely makes sense and saying otherwise or expecting character progression is bad don't do that because themes are for eighth-grade book reports ."

#rwde #rwby #seriously though #why do these writers make a mess of such VERY SIMPLE themes #HOW HARD is it to write a narrative that agrees that racism is bad??? #how hard is it to write a narrative that stresses the importance of inclusivity and acceptance??? #how hard is it to have THEMES IN A WORK WHERE EVERYONE IS A WALKING STORY

[tetsunabouquet]

Can't Help Falling In Love With You Chapter 8

Masterpost Midorima had spent the next few days just getting to know you better. How you had sleeping problems because all your mother could afford was a small studio apartment in a building invested with mice. Your creepy neighbor that had snorted his way into a psychosis and who had threatened your mother's life with a crossbow the other day. How your underage drinking had started at the tender age of 5. That you were still this smart despite for drinking for so long made Midorima honestly impressed with your intelligence. In turn he told you about how outside of Takao he didn't really had any friends at Shutoku, and how the closest thing he previously had to a best friend had lost his mind and given into an alternate personality. You had been willing to listen to him ramble about the whole Akashi mess, telling him it was only fair as he was helping you through a friendship breakup of our own. You were a wise person who gave some surprisingly good advice. Midorima was thankful for receiving your gracious words and he wondered if living a tough life like yours had aged you beyond your years. He felt guilty for being so grateful for it. His parents were too oblivious to notice something was going on, but Shinju seemed to notice how often her brother was distracted with his phone. She kept side-eyeing him whenever he was on his phone, and he knew someday sooner or later she was going to confront him and tease him about his crush like many a pest would- and if younger siblings were anything, they were pests. Even sweet little Shinju had her moments, no matter how rare they were. At school, you generally drifted by him. You didn't pounce on him and allowed him to warm up to you, generally sticking to Ichijo during breaks. Though you did greet him every time he passed by now, Ichijo often waving him by as acknowledgement. This was quite acceptable to him. He didn't really knew how he felt about being associated with not just you, but also the mess that was Ichijo who had landed himself in the infirmary again for being too lucid on school grounds. According to Takao earlier that day, the boy had been tripping balls. He wondered how the story between the two of you went. He decided to ask you now school was over and the two of you could go back to conversing without any noisy student being interested. He sat on his bed as he texted,

'Ichijo was a mess again today, nandayo. If I may ask, what's his story?'

A while later, his phone buzzed and he received his answer.

'Ichijo is a bit of a long story. His parents are missionaires who live at the edge of our 'ghetto', they claim they are here to save our souls. If you ask Ichijo, its just them ego jerking and wanting to be perceived as 'selfless heroes'. Ichijo used to run away a lot as a kid and would just sleep at whatever safe dumpster he could find. I began to notice and would carry around a spare bento. It's how we became friends.'

Midorima was quite surprised at the revelation Ichijo was being raised religiously but he heard about too strict parents with an holier then thou attitude before. As well as how their kids would often grow up to rebel against their parents and the church. He couldn't help but wonder indeed, what kind of actual good parents would endanger their kid by purposefully chosing a dangerous neighborhood? But Midorima could see how you, caring as you were, would look out for the needy and would be so generous to carry around food for them. His respect for you grew every day too, not just his love. You had been dealt a tough life but you carried through it with a graceful strength, one that left Midorima speechless. You were more then a girl, and Midorima admired you for it from the bottom of his heart.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #midorima #midorima shintaro #midorima x reader #friendship dramas #warming up to each other #kuroko no basket

[triple-pupil]

Headcanon dump, exclusive to the Game universe:

Werner Werman is an unstable, violence fanatic mouse who tried get in the military in an ongoing war between rodents and felines, but his attempt was rejected as he didn't meet the requirements. Maybe he went to the Inkwell Isles trying to find an easier way to get into any conflict at all.

He needed to go to war because it was the only way he could satisfy his hunger to kill and commit violence without being punished for it, he actually was confident that he would turn into a war hero and that the military was missing out. However, because of his upbringing, he used the excuse of patriotism to rodents as motivation, it even got to the point of believing this was his true reason.

As a last resort to participate in the war, he built a giant cat robot to wreack havoc around mice populations. In his mind, this was a twisted way of actually helping his kin, they would need to enlist more rodents to battle, and that's when he, the war hero and untapped potential, would manage to get in. (Maybe he even took the chance to apply his own justice, assaulting prisons or places he deemed corrupted, using the robotic cat to kill all rodents he saw as criminal or evil while also enjoying the chaos he caused)

I'm still not sure when he would reach out to the Devil, but he would go to the casino to speak to him after hearing rumours (He never went to the casino before, as all his addictions were somewhere else). I don't know if he goes to learn to make the robotic cat (Maybe to learn to build machinery in general) or to turn into a war hero quicker, but... I got two options for the results of this.

1) Thanks to selling his soul (and maybe also his plan with the cat) he finally is among the troups, although soldiers greatly doubt the mouse's and the recruiter's sanity when seeing Werman being a freaking lunatic, building crazy machines and just charging into battle with way too much confidence, as well as treating the rest as inferior.

Or.

2) The Devil just gives him the illusion of being a war hero by taking advantage of Werner's poor and vague wording (That has nothing to do with his accent, btw, I see Devil as capable of understanding almost any language so he and Werman can perfectly speak to each other in German). To do that, he gives the mouse medals and stuff like that through other mediators so that Werman doesn't realise about the scam, and the mouse just happily goes home, feeding more on his delusions. He even recieves fake letters from supossed military authorities, requesting his inventions and some services made to make him go around, destroy things and kill more to bring more souls to hell. Now he was part of the Devil's machine without realising.

Why is he now a debtor? Maybe he realised about the scam and got angry at the Devil, stealing the soul contract through violent ways. And if he got into the military, he could have been finally kicked out after everyone realised that having him there was a bad idea, he gets angry at the Devil because the big guy couldn't keep him in (Because of course this wasn't Werman's fault- pfff) and steals the contract through violent ways.

Now he doesn't come out of the hole in the wall he calls home, although saying he isn't scared of the Devil and that he would beat him up any day (He wouldn't).

Or maybe-

Headcanon 2: The dude is just an actual war vet who dealt with the Devil to make a mechanical cat that worked as a guard to the house because he doesn't like to have other mice around in his retirement. Tho idk why he'd turn into a debtor but this option is funny. (Thanks random YouTube comment by Shiru Otakuno for the idea of the cat as a guard dog)

:)

#Choose your headcanon #Long ansgty edgy lunatic with a lot of backround and motivation #Or tired vet who just wants to be left alone and chill #I love both #werner werman #cuphead #cuphead headcanons #headcanon #my shit #And I know the second headcanon contradicts actual canon #But I just found it funny

[duskforged]

Worldbuilding Ahvan: The Magic System

(disclaimer: this may be subject to change as the world grows and develops. this iteration is to be regarded as a hard magic system.)

table of contents

table of contents

introduction

the inner source

natural magic

synthetic magic

spirits

users of magic

limits and exceptions

consquences

disorders

introduction

In Ahvan, every single living thing is part of a magical ecosystem, from the plants and the animals to the very essences of a place. Until the creation of the four sentient species, this remained in a natural ebb and flow. But now, with magic manipulated in the same way as scientific elements, new power has been unleashed into the world, for good, or ill.

the inner source

The inner source is, in short, what creates the magical energy that flows throughout every living being, plant or animal. An inner source is relatively proportional to the size of the being it inhabits. The magical energy flows through the bloodstream (sometimes poetically called the ephemeral network), and is often channeled through the limbs or a tool such as a wand, staff, pen, etc.

Plants do not strictly have a natural inner source, instead creating magical energy through photosynthesis and other natural processes - some plants are better producers of magical energy than others, but it is not yet known how or why.

All animals, from the greatest true wyverns to the smallest mice, have a natural inner source. The inner source itself is sourced from a small organ near the animal's liver. This is also true for the sentient species. Animals are able to suffer from inner source disorders, but it is very rare in the wild and almost exclusively presents itself in species which use magic in some form, such as wyverns. The creatures who are able to manipulate their inner source generally may only limit it to one ability defined by their biology, such as the wyvern's ability to breathe cold, white fire.

The four sentient species are the humans, the enath, the elves, and the hlayä. Humans have a roughly average ability with magic. Enath and hlayä have a higher chance to produce greater magic overall, with the former focused primarily on natural elemental magic and the latter on clairsenses and divination-related magic. The elves tend to have two groups: one who is excellent at magic and the other who has little to no magical ability. Both the enath and the elves increase their lifespans the more they use magic.

natural magic

Natural magic is magic that uses one's own natural inner source to influence that which already exists. This may range from raw, unadulterated magic to spirit conjuration, from elementalism to healing.

synthetic magic

Synthetic magic is magic that uses one's own inner source to create something that does not exist. This may range from enchanting to protective wards, from necromancy to transportation. This is most commonly done by virtue of creating a synthetic inner source and placing it into an object, with or without additional runes or sigils to program its use.

spirits

There are two types of spirits: sentient spirits, normally one of the dead (see: the Ánasezan ancestral spirits), and spirits of place. Spirits of the dead can range from ancestral spirits to hostile hauntings, and are dealt with normally by a conjurer if needed. A sentient spirit may start to gain power if they are exceptionally old, but the longer they remain adrift from a bonded item or place, the more likely they are to become lost and therefore hostile.

A spirit of place is one that forms over time, with many different imprints over those who have passed through it - a spirit of place tends to develop only in inhabited settlements. An example may include a pilgrimage shrine, an ancient family's garden, or a theatre. These spirits rarely manifest in a normal way that sentient spirits do, but are merely guardians for the place where they were born. This is often where the idea of the fair folk/fairies, evil river spirits, etc come from.

Traditional offerings for spirits vary from culture to culture and religion to religion, but a popular offering that almost always remains is honey and bread.

users of magic

Across nearly every single culture, users of magic are called a magus (plural: magi). In most cultures, they are generally regarded as part of society, often that which helps it run - though there have been ironic and hypocritical takes in the past in regards to their value to science and innovation. In some places, the term 'witch' may be used for those who are self-learned.

limits and exceptions

For now, there are only three major limits and one major exception to using magic in Ahvan. One: a magus cannot raise the sapient undead, nor resurrect the dead. Two: a person cannot contain more magical energy than their bloodstream can carry; else they may quite literally explode. Three: transmutation (i.e. transformation of one object into another) is impossible.

The exception: anything is possible for a god to do, should They choose.

consequences

There are two main consequences from using magic in Ahvan: source drain, and source strain.

Inner source drain varies from spell to spell, from user to user, but often causes physical and mental symptoms when drained too much. Fatigue, nausea, headaches, migraines, sensitivity to light and noise, and insomnia are often symptoms of mild inner source drain. Severe source drain symptoms may include fevers, chills, sweating, vomiting, hallucinations, and even death.

Inner source strain comes from repeated and excessive inner source drain, and is generally considered a chronic disorder. It causes pain and numbness when attempting to reach the inner source or manipulate the energy within the body. It also often causes fatigue, hot and cold flashes, and joint pain. Inner source strain is relatively rare, and is almost exclusively found amongst those who regularly drain their power levels far beyond their limit.

disorders

Much like one's mental, emotional, and physical health, one's inner source may become regulated improperly. Some individuals may be born with disorders, others may gain it from excessive inner source drain or strain, or aging.

Maladaptive Source Disorder (MSD) is categorized as a trained magic user attempting to manipulate their inner source and it failing to respond. This is most commonly brought on by way of a birth defect, considered a chronic disorder. Often, it causes a numbness or pain in the source when attempting to use it, and may occasionally cause soreness and fatigue. It is treated with pain medication, source therapy, and rest.

Inner Source Leak Syndrome (ISLS) is a disorder most commonly caused by a birth defect, but may arise from repeated inner source strain. It is categorized as erratic spell results, with magical energy leaking from the individual regardless if they are a magic user or otherwise, leading them to influence their environment heavily. ISLS is often diagnosed when the individual is an infant or toddler, as their leaking energy can lash out from emotional distress.

Individuals with ISLS still have the potential to use their inner source, but it must be regulated with treatment, such as medical enchantments.

Symptoms of ISLS may include fatigue, stunted physical growth in children, brain fog, and a weak immune system.

Hypersource is characterized by a person’s inner source creating far too much magical energy. This can result in severe headaches and migraines, body aches, nausea, and fevers. The energy can be siphoned into specially enchanted objects, which can act as a relief for those who have it.

Hyposource is characterized by a person’s inner source creating far too little magical energy. This can result in dizziness, fatigue, body aches, chills, and loss of appetite. Energy can be transferred into their body by way of magically enchanted objects, which can sometimes be donated by people with hypersource, or else can be found made by alchemists or enchanters.

#worldbuilding #writeblr #writers on tumblr #fantasy worldbuilding #magic system #fantasy world #dusk worldbuilds #ahvan #ahvan magic system